#what are the tags for this ?????? idk but I’ve been working like hell and back working on refs you can tell which ones are old and new

[lexiesdoodles]

Art fight 2024 !!!

[ratskinsuit]

Could u do a pegging lucifer fic? And the (dom gn) reader is being extra mean to him and just degrading the shit outa him, and he’s just kinda crying begging for praise

Fucked Dumb

A/N: feels like forever since I wrote a smut fic lol. Times flying byyyy, sorry i haven’t been good with request recently I’ve just been working on my Ocs (plz I have so many I need to stop) and school blah blah blah. Hope you enjoyed!

Tags: Also consent is not states here but it was stated before you two do have a system, Aftercare is slightly mentioned, smut, pegging, nsfw, begging, brain fuck, sub Lucifer x reader, lil bit of blood play? (I think- idk reader licks up some blood from his chin)

MDNI

——————————————————————— P-lease agh- ha ah.. ngh darling PLE-ase…” Lucifer sobs, tears streaming down his face as you slam into him. His breath heavy.

You have him on the edge of the bed, legs spread as your strap pounds in and out of him at a fast pace.

All day he was begging for you to touch him, knowing you were busy with some important work. He kept persisting, sitting in your lap, “hugging” you from behind as he sits against you. Walking around in stupidly tight clothes.

You breaking point however was at the end of the day, when he was testing you all through a work call you had. Running his fingers up and down your thighs, holding your hand, slowly inching it towards his hard on.

So as soon as the call ended you slammed him against the mattress, his face going red with surprise, having not expected it.

You tied his hands together and left him there to go get your strap. A couple minutes later your fucking his brains out while he’s sobs on hour dick. Bringing you to now.

“Oh no no no. You w-anted to be a little fucker all day, practically humping me every time you got close enough. So now take it bitch.” You hiss, a particularly hard thrust earning a wail from the ruined man under you.

Lucifer’s hands are tied together above his head with a pretty red ribbon. It’s tight enough to keep him from wiggling but not enough to cut his circulation.

His hair is sweaty, sticking to his forehead and jutting out everywhere. Sweat drips down his face. His eyes are rolled back, twitching and blown out. His eyebrows are scrunched together in concentration, going from relaxed to tense every other second.

His mouth is wide open, your almost convinced a fly will go into it. Drool is running down his chin, flying everywhere as moans and begging tumble out. What he’s begging for; I don’t think even he knows.

“Pl- darlin- agh hng…AH hA! Fu-uck Hng…” Lucifer lets out a wail as you hit a particular spot inside of him, causing the sheets he’s gripping to rip.

He’s sobbing, as you continue to mash up his insides. He shudders, letting out an in-human sound as he orgasms for the 5th time this night.

“That’s five fu-cking times this night whore… hah… fuck, god that’s just sad. I’ve only come once? Needy bitch.” You tease as he writhes and shakes the bed, his orgasm washing over him.

He’s already came so much tonight, but still has more, coating the two of you.

He sputters, begging for a break as he can’t make out sentences. You watch as the king of hell moans and cries beneath you.

The sheets are ripped up under his hands, eyes completely rolled back. You see a trail of blood leaking from his mouth, and lean forward, licking it up with a swipe of your tongue.

You lean to him, forcing him into a hot kiss, that he tries to reciprocate but all he does is tangle his tongue with yours and drool all over himself.

You let out a laugh as you speed up, Lucifer choking on his own spit under you. “Fu-ck your so dumb-fucked you can’t even kiss you properly.

As quick as it had ended he tenses and cums again on his own chest.

“Dar- AH fu-hng… ple- I can- n’t hm.. m’be… been s’ch a goo-agh- good boy… plea-SE” He pleads at you, desperate for some relief.

You decide to take pity on him, and finish yourself off. You know he can take degradation but sometimes when he’s so far into subspace he gets really upset if you do it go much.

“Du-ont worry honey, your doing amazing, give me one m-more okay darling? M-..I wanna c-cum to, is that okay pr..etty boy?” You coo at him, and he nods frantically as you speed up,

“can- m’ make.. you cu- OH.. plea- you c-cu..m”he tries speaking but fails and you just shush him, untying his hands quickly. As soon as the are free he grabs your hand with one and squeezes tightly, the other going to your waist.

He’s babbling by this point, words and curses stringing together in noncence sentences, while you praise and coo at him. “Doing g-great my love, handsome boy. Go-nana make me come so hard…since your doing so-o amazingly..” he whimpers, reaching for your face and you lean and kiss him.

Him, having just cum, and you having been edging up to it. The two of you reach your orgasm quickly. You are locked in a kiss right as it hits you both like a freight trains.

Lucifer falls back, twitching and shuddering violently with his mouth wide open in a silent scream. You shake with your and collapse on top of him as you relish in the aftershocks.

After a couple of seconds, you sit up and pull out of him, him whincing a bit.

You throw the strap off to the side and go to the edge of the bed by Lucifer head. You push his hair out of his face and soothe his burning skin.

“You did so great my love, are you okay?” You ask, Lucifer gives a little nod. “Mhm’ I… agh fuck, can’t hng… feel my legs…” you giggle and crawl in next to him.

Even though the two of you were very sweaty, you held him as he closed his eyes, the two of you embraced together. “M…love you..” he murmurs, and you give him a kiss.

———————————————————————

A/N: As said in my other post I will be busy for a while after this, not going on hiatus just slow updates. I just wanted to get this out because I had it halfway done. Hope you enjoyed!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

[libingan]

i just graduated yesterday!!! and ive been having back pains since the morning before the graduation. even now, im still in pain dsajkds so i thought why not make a fic abt kyle giving reader a real nice massage😉😉😉!!! except, let’s make it male reader because why not????

um, idk how to do warnings and shit…

does this count as dubcon??? idk, theres a part where reader tries to stop him, but its very brief??? so im not sure????

just to be safe, ill tag it as dubcon bc i literally do not know SHDJWJSJW pls tell me if it is or isnt!!!

after a long, grueling day, you return to your barracks, each step sending a sharp twinge of pain through your lower back. a low grumble escapes you, cursing about how the weight of your gear feels like it’s compressing your spine and you can barely find the energy to unbuckle the heavy straps.

once you finally enter your room, you quickly drop the gear onto the floor, a loud sigh of relief escaping you, despite the lingering ache. you stretch lightly, trying to ease the tension in your muscles, but it only causes you to wince in pain.

you trudged towards your bed, carelessly flopping onto the soft mattress. you didn’t even bother stripping off your clothes, too eager to finally get the rest you’ve been craving the whole day.

the silence in your barracks gives you time to think about the relentless duties your line of work brings. you love it, no doubt about that, but sometimes you can’t help but wonder why you love what you do when shit like this happens.

a heavy exhale leaves your lips, and just as you were about to finally get some sleep, a knock on your door disrupts your plans.

you groan loudly into your pillow, forcing yourself off the bed as you slowly made your way to the door, face scrunched up in discomfort as you rubbed your lower back.

once you reach the door, you twist the doorknob and pull it open, revealing your superior, sergeant kyle garrick. you blink at him in surprise. what the hell is he doing here?

“sergeant,” you greet him with a nod, “what brings you here?”

kyle nods back at you, walking into your barracks without a single word. he closes the door behind him before addressing you. “how’s your back?”

you’re caught off guard, not expecting him to notice. you straighten up at his question, the persistent ache in your back making itself known, but you’re determined not to show it.

“it’s… manageable,” you reply.

kyle hums, eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion at your response. “manageable, you say?” he muses, “i’ve seen that wince. go get on the bed, lay on your stomach.”

“…what?”

the man standing in front of you sighs, ushering you towards the bed. “gotta make sure i keep the team in shape, yeah?”

surprisingly, you find yourself unable to resist the way kyle smiles so charmingly at you. with a sigh, you make sit by the edge of your bed. “do i keep my shirt on or—“

“take it off.” kyle immediately replies. he clears his throat right after, still smiling at you. “you can take it off, if you want. it’d make this easier for me if you did.”

you shrug, pulling off your shirt and hanging it by a nearby chair. kyle’s gaze flicker down your body, his eyes gleaming with… something. you can’t tell what, but it’s there. “good. lie down.”

you wordlessly comply, moving to lie on your stomach, just as kyle had instructed. he shuffles to straddle your hips, perching himself on your butt.

kyle places his hands on your back, working on the tight knots with practiced skills. his fingers are firm, yet gentle, kneading your sore muscles with rhythmic motion.

after a few moments, he pauses, “where do you want my hands?” he asks.

“low… a little lower, please… near the spine—fuuuuck, just like that…” you suck in a breath, eyes fluttering shut as kyle applies the perfect amount of pressure on that one spot.

“right here?” he moves his hands in slow, circular motions, pressing into the indicated spot.

“yesss… yes, right there,” you respond, a sigh of relief escaping your lips. as he continues to work his magical hands on the sore area, you can’t help but let out a few (a lot) of appreciative moans and groans. “feels so much better, holy shit,” you murmur, a soft hum leaving you.

kyle’s breathing hitches, and he tries to maintain his composure, but how can he? you sound so pretty, moaning from his simple touch. he can’t help it if he finds himself responding to the sound of your relief. the gentle sounds you make as he presses into the knots bring out an unwelcome reaction, stirring his arousal.

fuck, he can feel himself getting hard. kyle knows he should stop. he stills his hands, ready to pull away, but when he hears you whine out his name so softly…

he can’t help it when his hands travel lower, toying with the waistband of your jeans, wanting nothing more than to pull them off.

“…sergeant?” you call out, looking over you shoulder to catch his heated gaze. kyle gently shushes you, pressing his crotch against your clothed ass. “it’s okay. im gonna take care of you, i swear. just let me, okay?” he whispers, lifting up your hips enough to unbutton your jeans.

you try to push yourself up, but kyle tuts in disapproval, gently pushing you back down. “no. just stay down. be good for me, okay?”

“sergeant, we shouldn’t—“

“it’s kyle.” he quickly cuts you off, unzipping your jeans, slowly pulling them down. “remember that, yeah? wanna hear you moaning that name in a bit.”

his words send a rush of heat flowing through your veins, heading straight down to your cock. you mutter a few curses under your breath before lifting your hips up a little to give him more space to pull your jeans and boxers off.

“there we go…” kyle throws the clothes off the bed, his hands immediately kneading the soft flesh of your ass. “where have you been hiding this thing, man?” he teases, lightly slapping your cheek, watching it jiggle from the force.

you don’t even bother responding, only rolling your eyes at his comment. kyle chuckles at this, shaking his head in amusement.

“got nothing to say?” he gently parts your cheeks apart, licking his lips at the sight of your puckered hole. “fuckin’ hell…” he groans, feeling himself throb in his pants. “can i?”

you bury your head into your arms, nodding. you doubt kyle would take no for answer anyway.

without another word, kyle lowers his head, tongue darting out to lick a fat stripe across your hole, groaning at the taste.

you shiver from the sensation, a shaky sigh leaving you as you glance over your shoulder to see kyle, eyes shut and brows knitted together, half of his face disappearing in between your ass cheeks as the tip of his tongue breaches your hole, circling the muscle before slowly prodding inside.

“kyle, wait, this is really dirty—fuck!” you moan again, burying your face into the pillows.

“s’not dirty, love, just let me make you feel good…” kyle mutters, pulling away to spit on your hole, watching the glob of saliva roll down to your balls. “lift your hips up f’me.”

you nod, raising your hips with the help of kyle’s hands. he gently pats your bum in approval before moving closer behind you, reaching in front of you to position two fingers to your lips. “suck.”

you eagerly take his long, slender fingers into your mouth, slobbering your spit all over the digits, drool slowly dripping down his palm. you swirled your tongue around his fingers, moaning when he catches the wet muscle with ease, pressing them down before pulling his hand away, causing you to whine from the loss.

“patience, boy,” he chuckles, planting kisses down your spine before spreading your ass cheeks once more with one hand. “relax, okay?”

you nod your head, trying to ease your mind as kyle’s fingers trace around the rim of your hole. “im going to push it in. take a deep breath for me, love.” he says, and you do as you’re told.

he smiles at your obedience, finger slowly sinking into your tight hole. kyle can’t see your face, so he relies on the sounds you make to know if you’re still enjoying this.

“how’s it feel?” he asks, pausing his movements momentarily. you swallow the lump in your throat, voice coming out shaky as you reply, “…w-weird, but you can… you can keep going.”

“good boy,” he praises, resuming the movement of his finger. once he finally sunk in the entirety of his finger, kyle stills himself, waiting for some sort of negative reaction.

all kyle gets in return is a needy whine for more leaving your lips.

he grins at that, sliding in the second finger into your crack. “how does it feel?”

“i feel like i’m about to take a fucking shit,” you grit your teeth, clenching around kyle’s

fingers.

“you aren’t, don’t worry.” kyle reassures you. “im gonna move, is that okay?”

when you finally give him the green light, he lets out a low chuckle, circling his fingers inside of you.

you shudder at the feeling, your aching back completely forgotten as kyle fucks you on his fingers.

“tell me how this feels,” kyle whispers, lightly pressing the pad of his fingers against a certain one spot that has you seeing fucking stars.

“oh, fuck—“ you gasp, eyes rolling into the back of your head, your neglected cock leaking pre onto the sheets. “again. again. please.”

kyle smirks at that. you can’t see it, but you can already imagine the smug look on his face. “like this?” he asks, fingers curling against your prostate intently, determined to bring you over to the edge.

“yes! yes—oh my god-!” you mewl, hands going up to each side of your head to grab and twist at the pillow beneath you, knuckles turning white from your grip.

you bury your face into the pillow, muffling your moans, which have increased in volume with each curl of kyle’s fingers. the sergeant lets out a breathy laugh at the sight of you, lowering his head down to your ass before licking at the rim of your hole, his free hand moving to wrap around your cock, stroking it in time with his fingers.

“haah—fuck! fuck, kyle! please—i-i’m so—“ you try to speak.

“mmhm, just let go…” he mumbles, doubling his efforts.

you groan, muscles trembling as you try to keep your hips upright, head lolling down in between your arms. you can’t help but fuck yourself against him, biting the pillow in an attempt to stifle your moans.

“i-i’m almost—“ a broken moan leaves you, the coil in your stomach tightening, the pleasure running up your spine, and you know you can’t hold back any longer.

it’s then that kyle applies more pressure to your prostate, fisting your cock with renewed vigor. that’s all it takes for you to cum all over the sheets, your orgasm crashing down on you like a tidal wave.

your vision whitens temporarily as kyle continues curling his fingers, milking you for all your worth.

“kyle—i can’t, no,” you whimper, feeling a mixture of pain and pleasure as he crosses the side of too much.

slowly and carefully, kyle pulls his head away, along with his fingers. he gently lets go of your softening cock, watching as you slump on the bed, exhausted.

he wipes his fingers off on his pants. it’s a little gross, but kyle doesn’t care too much about it.

“you okay?” kyle asks, using his clean hand — the one that wasn’t in your ass — to rub soft circles into your back.

“never been better,” you answer, panting heavily as you move your head to the side, looking over your soldier to see kyle’s concerned, but also slightly amused expression. “my back’s still aching.”

kyle lets out a hearty laugh at that, rolling his eyes playfully. “i’ll get to that later,” he says, pressing his clothed cock between your asscheeks. “i got something aching here too, love, and you owe me one.”

yeah, your back pain didn’t get any better after that.

[minkdelovely]

homebodies

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Alastor x GN!Reader

tags: domestic!alastor, fluff, established relationship, alcohol consumption, not “explicit” but as a general rule MDNI 18+

word count: 1.2k

author’s note: more self-indulgence. just a little something that’s been on my mind since i watched ‘casablanca’ over the weekend. i tried my best not to get too ooc, but idk - i feel like under the right circumstance, alastor has great potential for coziness. here’s looking at you, kid.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Tonight was the night. The decision was made a week ago and there was no way you would be backing down.

You didn’t know why you had gotten the urge one day, but once it was there you were determined on getting an antique TV. It had taken visiting several antique shoppes throughout Cannibal Town, but you had managed to find one: a 1949 Packard Bell television (or possibly Hell’s greatest dupe) that was in beautiful shape.

It had been so exciting rearranging your furniture to make room for it, and you set it up to play some of the movies you had also found. The perfect cozy piece that had been missing from the lounge area in your suite. You loved how it looked with the rest of your things, fitting in seamlessly with some of your other antique finds; the morning glory gramophone being one of yours and Alastor’s favorites.

Thinking of him, you began to feel a little nervous about your impulse buy. You knew how he felt about modern technology but… would a TV from 1949 really count? If the concern was Vox, surely the Vees wouldn’t be interested in bugging this old thing?

Uncertainty won out, and you decided to conceal it with a scalloped, ivory tablecloth, placing a vase of flowers on top to complete the transformation. Just until you could work up the courage to show it to him.

You had given yourself a week, and it was finally time. It had been all planned out, from what you’d be having for dinner to the movie you would ask him to watch. The two of you had a long-standing routine of staying in on Friday nights, with activities ranging from you each settling down with a book to dancing in the lounge all while the radio played. Needless to say, it had been a long time since you had felt so nervous about him coming over. What if he really hated it? Or worse… thought it was silly?

A distinct rapping at the door interrupted your spiral, Alastor peaking his head in before fully entering your suite. Despite the number of times you had told him he didn’t need to, the knocking was a habit he refused to give up. Tonight you were grateful, as it gave you the slightest bit of warning to pull yourself together before you hurried to greet him.

He was already removing his coat by the time you reached him, and he kissed your hand in greeting when you tried to take it. A gesture that still left you with butterflies.

“Evening, dearest. Tonight couldn’t have come soon enough, I’ve been looking forward to it for days,” he sighed, finally allowing you to take his coat as he loosened his bow tie with a tug of his fingers.

You would never get used to seeing him be so relaxed around you. He was always so composed and properly dressed that the moments in which he was casual were precious to you, like a secret.

“I know, you’ve been busy this week,” you commiserated, already reconsidering your plan of action as you put the coat away. It was rare that he was tired like this. “What would you like to drink? I’ll get it for you.”

Maybe this isn’t be the best time to try and spring something new on him, you thought as he took a seat at the small table in your makeshift dining area.

“Surprise me,” he said, resting his head in his hand. His eyes trailed you as you made your way to the bar cart, the lazy smile on his face making your heart jump.

Husker had recently taught you how to make a few cocktails, the Negroni turning out to be a surprise favorite. You made two and set his glass down in front of him, exchanging a silent cheers before taking a sip.

Dinner went off without a hitch, and you took turns catching each other up with superfluous details of the week now that you finally had the time. It was during all of this that you worked up your courage to stick to the plan. Maybe a movie might be a nice distraction?

“I bought something last week that I’ve been meaning to show you,” you said, fiddling with your glass.

He raised a brow and hummed. “And why the wait?”

“I was nervous at first, how you’d react to it — it’s nothing bad!” you added quickly, seeing the look on his face. His imagination could be the worst sometimes. “Just… unexpected? I bought a TV from 1949. It’s been hiding in the lounge.”

Alastor turned to look and you got up to remove its disguise. Seeing it for the first time since covering it, you fell in love all over again. It really did fit your space so perfectly.

“It’s not… terrible,” he conceded, standing over it with a suspicious air. “It doesn’t stick out, at least. And you intend to watch it, I presume?”

Here goes nothing.

“I do,” you said, not as confidently as you’d have liked. “I, um… I was actually wondering if you wanted to watch a movie with me? It’s from 1942.”

“You don’t have to keep telling me which years they’re from, dearest,” he sighed, taking a seat on the couch. “But first, I’d like another drink.”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

“I’d like to think that you killed a man. It’s the romantic in me,” Louis said from the television, and to your surprise Alastor chuckled. Was he… enjoying this? You couldn’t help but dare take a peak, and the relaxed smile you found nearly killed you.

He was actually watching it! This was a victory you’d soon not forget.

You started to covertly look over at him as the movie moved along, curious to see which parts of it he reacted to. He was so absorbed that you were able to get away with it for nearly half the movie.

Alastor nearly caught you when the Paris flashback was over, giving you an unmistakable ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ look. You couldn’t help but laugh, and he soon joined in.

You picked up on moments here and there throughout the rest of it, mostly when involving Rick and Louis. And he really enjoyed when Victor began to sing La Marseillaise, singing along with just as much passion. Laughing when Ilsa pulled a gun on Rick, disappointed when she didn’t follow through.

Before you knew it, Rick and Louis were walking off into the proverbial sunset and the movie was over.

“I wouldn’t mind if you ever wanted to watch that again,” he said, looking down at you. You had been inching closer and closer to him throughout the movie, until he tucked you under his arm.

“Really? I’m so glad you liked it!” You couldn’t fight the smile on your face. This had gone so much better than expected, and you were just so happy. “Can I kiss you?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

“Goodness, so well-mannered tonight,” he teased with a laugh, voice low and eyes heavy. “I suppose, since you asked so nicely.”

The kiss had started chaste enough, before he said he wanted ‘payback’.

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tag list: @fairyv-ice, @wat4r, @midorichoco

[rosemariiaa]

~Lines We Drew~

part: 1

pairing- Paige x Azzi

oookay hi guys! idk how many requests i’ve gotten in my inbox for this kind of fic for pazzi but I finally tried to work up something last night! (don’t tell me you don’t like it , i will be upset)

warning: language

Enjoy!!!

Paige Bueckers had heard the news weeks before the official announcement: Azzi Fudd was coming to UConn. The so-called “golden girl” of high school basketball, the first pick in her class and NPOY, the one everyone couldn’t stop talking about. And Paige couldn’t have been less thrilled.

“Come on, Paige. She’s not even here yet, and you’re already acting all grumpy,” Nika ribbed as they lounged in their dorm room, prepping for the new season. “Besides, she is real pretty. You should be excited. Maybe you’ll finally find someone who can keep up with you.”

Paige scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I don’t need someone to keep up with me, Nika. And I’m not grumpy. I just don’t get what the big deal is.”

KK, lying on her bed with her feet propped up on the wall, chimed in, “The big deal is she’s gonna be a star. You know that, right? The two of you together on the court—UConn’s gonna be unstoppable and on the road to the national chip, yes ma’am.” Kk exclaimed, pumping her fist in the air.

“Yeah, if we can stand to be on the same court without killing each other,” Paige muttered, more to herself than anyone else. But of course, Nika heard her and threw a pillow at her head.

“Stop being such a brat. You barely even know her. Maybe you’ll actually like her once you get to know her.” “Doubt it,” Paige grumbled, tossing the pillow back at Nika.

“Why don’t you like her anyway?” Ayanna asked from her corner of the room, where she was scrolling through her phone. “You guys don’t even know each other like that.”

Paige shrugged, knowing she didn’t have a good answer to tell her friends, she knows if she tells them something else, all hell will break loose. “We just… don’t click, okay? I dunno. She’s just not my type of person.”

KK rolled her eyes. “Girl boo save the excuses .” Paige didn’t respond, sinking deeper into her thoughts. She wasn’t going to be a bitch—she just wasn’t going to go out of her way to be friendly either.

The day Azzi arrived at UConn, it felt like the entire campus was buzzing. Paige’s friends were all smiles, eager to meet the new star recruit. Paige tagged along reluctantly as they headed over to the dorms where Azzi would be living.

When they got there, Azzi was already surrounded by some of the team, all of them helping her move in. Paige hung back, crossing her arms and watching as Caroline and Aubrey joked with Azzi as they were old friends.

“Ice, you gotta help me lift this,” Caroline called, motioning to a heavy-looking box. Ice, who was taller and definitely stronger, easily lifted the box and carried it into the dorm.

“Thanks, Carol,” Azzi said, smiling. “I think that’s the last of it.” “No problem,” Caroline replied, wiping her hands on her shorts. “We’re all in this together now.”

Paige tried to keep her expression neutral as Azzi glanced over at her. Their eyes met for a split second, and Paige felt a jolt of something she couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t exactly anger, but it wasn’t friendly either. She quickly looked away, pretending to be interested in something on her phone.

“Oh, hey Paige,” Azzi said, her voice polite but not overly friendly. “Didn’t see you there.” Paige nodded stiffly. “Yeah, I’m just here with the girls.”

Azzi nodded back, the silence between them awkward. Caroline, ever the peacemaker, jumped in. “Paige, why don’t you help Azzi get her room set up? She’s rooming with me, Aubrey, and Ice.”

Paige wanted to say no, but everyone was looking at her expectantly, so she forced a smile. “Sure. I can help.”

She followed Azzi and the others into the dorm, feeling like she was walking into enemy territory. Aubrey was already inside, arranging some of her things, and when she saw Paige, she grinned.

“Hey, Paige! Look at you, helping out. Maybe there’s hope for you yet,” Aubrey teased.

Paige rolled her eyes but smiled a little. Aubrey had a way of making her feel at ease, even when she didn’t want to be. “Yeah, yeah. Just trying to be a team player.” As they unpacked, the conversation flowed easily among the group, but Paige stayed mostly quiet, only speaking when directly addressed. Azzi seemed content to ignore her as well, which suited Paige just fine.

After they finished, Ice stretched her arms over her head and sighed. “Man, moving is exhausting. I’m starving.”

“Let’s grab something to eat,” Caroline suggested. “We can all go together. You in, Paige?”

Paige hesitated, glancing at Azzi, who was wiping sweat from her brow. She really didn’t want to spend any more time around her than necessary, but she knew saying no would make her look petty. So she nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

They all headed to a nearby café, where they pushed a bunch of tables together to accommodate the group. Paige ended up sitting across from Azzi, who was chatting with Aubrey and Caroline. Paige focused on her menu, trying to ignore the way Azzi’s laugh seemed to fill the whole space.

“Azzi, you’ve gotta try the chicken wrap here. It’s the best,” Caroline said, pointing to the menu.

Azzi smiled. “Ouuu that sounds good actually, thanks for the recommendation. I’ll take your word for it.”

Paige couldn’t help herself. “You don’t have to take her word for it, you know. You’re capable of making your own decisions.”

Azzi looked up at her, a spark of defiance in her eyes. “I’m aware, Paige. But sometimes it’s nice to get suggestions from friends.”

“Friends,” Paige echoed, her tone flat. “Right.”

Azzi’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Are you always this charming, or is it just me?” Paige blinked, momentarily taken aback. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Azzi shrugged. “Just making an observation.”

Paige opened her mouth to retort, but the words caught in her throat. She wasn’t used to being challenged, and Azzi’s calm yet sharp response threw her off balance. Instead, she just looked away, focusing on her food.

The table fell silent for a moment, the tension palpable. Aubrey cleared her throat, clearly trying to change the subject. “So, Azzi, what do you think of the campus so far?”

Azzi’s expression softened, and she started talking about how much she liked the facilities and how excited she was to start training. Paige tuned out most of the conversation, focusing on her food instead.

But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t ignore the way Azzi’s voice seemed to weave into her thoughts, making it impossible to completely block her out. And the more she tried, the more frustrated she became.

By the time they finished eating, Paige was more than ready to leave. As they walked back to the dorms, KK and Nika fell into step beside her, nudging her playfully.

“Why do you gotta be so mean to her?” KK asked, not really expecting an answer. “She’s actually super cool.”

Paige sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I’m not being mean. I told you we just… don’t click. It’s not that serious guys.”

Nika raised an eyebrow. “Not that deep? You barely said two words to her, and when you did, it was kinda snarky.”

Paige shrugged, not wanting to get into it. “It is what it is.” KK rolled her eyes and nudged Paige’s shoulder . “You’re so annoying. Just give the poor girl a chance, stop being mean to the pretty lady.”

Paige didn’t respond, but the words echoed in her mind long after she was back in her own dorm, lying on her bed and staring at the ceiling. She knew her friends were right, or were they? Azzi hadn’t done anything to deserve her hostility. So she thought , but deep down there was just something she couldn’t get herself to really spit out. There was something about the way Azzi seemed to effortlessly fit in, the way she smiled and laughed with everyone, that just irked Paige. It made her feel… what? Jealous? Insecure? She wasn’t sure, but whatever it was, it was strong enough to keep her on edge whenever Azzi was around.

As the days went on, Azzi became more integrated into the team, quickly earning the admiration and friendship of everyone except Paige. And though Paige continued to keep her distance, she couldn’t deny that the tension between them was growing more complex with each passing day.

For now, the animosity remained unresolved, but something told Paige that this was only the beginning. The next few months promised to be full of surprises, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready for what was coming.

[twost3ps]

This boy has been in the drafts for like a month

I'm feeling like I want an Adam sandwich with two slices of Morningstar brothers so you guys are going to hear me out on my LucifurxAdamxMicheal au (and I mean it in a they both share Adam in the end :3 ) In general I'm calling the ship ✨️GuitarStars✨️ boooyaaa I feel like there might be a better name for it but idk

(Also I’ve noticed there is complaint for guitarhero in the adamsapple tag. I'm tagging this post as adamsapple this once of it but post related to this with both brothers will be counted as #guitarstars.

I also completely agree with the complaints. There is a problem with the tagging so this is a very quick reminder to please tag properly!!! Ik it's not meant to be harmful bcz most guitarhero shippers are also adamsapple as well. But i will admit there has been a lot of unecessary tagging (i am guilty of this im so sorry qwq) so please be mindful!!!! Ik this post might go agaisnt that but its just this post i swear sorrryyyy)

ANYWAYS The actual au:

For now I'm calling the au- Angels on My Shoulder (I can't think of a good title rn grrr)

quick sketchs so you get the idea

General prompt:

Adam respawns as a human with all his memories. He lives a normal happy life until he turns 21 when two angels (Micheal and Lucifer) appear on his shoulders with a mission: try convince him into making certain decisions so that he ensures a spot in heaven or hell.

That doesn’t work out very well because adam hates how theyre forcing their ideals onto him one way or another. He doesnt really want to think about heaven or hell anytime soon. Heaven or hell seems like complete torture to him. The fact that he didn't like either of them before he respawned doesn't help.

A revelation happens and both brothers realize it's not gonna work on their terms so they're gonna have to earn his favor first before trying anything. One of the ways is talking it out beacuse adam had expressed several times over that, while at first it was funny, their bickering needs to die because it's getting annoying.

They talk it out. They make up. It takes a whole but they become close again. They try to earn adams favor in the meantime and between time. Everything is at peace. As time goes on though, the wooing is no longer for just adams favor, its now romantic. Both develop feelings for Adam. And since now they made up both made up they are very willing to share him.

The og goal is completely lost. Gone with the dirt and dust. And now what was once a competition to get Adam into heaven or hell has spiraled into heaven and hell trying to get into Adam. If you catch my drift.

Do they get in there?

God bless they do

(Ps they start off as small little mascots but then later grow into their normal form and an added human form. Adam Prefers the small mascots though)

My in-depth of the au that is very subject to change I just wanted to rant is under the cut o3o

So when Adam had died, he respawned onto earth. Born into a normal family and all that jazz. He lives life as normal and has comes to terms with it. He actually loves his life. He doesn’t have to walk on eggshells anymore and lives as normal. He’s not insanely good or insanely bad, he’s just a guy.

A guy who is very happy with himself. After graduating he becomes a national park ranger.

Heaven and hell both know of adams soul, but contant cant be initiated till he turns 21 (It was recognized because I wanna say 21 would be the age Adam technically was in his creation during Eden, and thats when he can process divinity without his body tweaking as if he were any other mortal. Souls grow along with age and all that drama, adams soul in eden was strong enough to stand the sheer power of a seraphims presence) both sides made it their immediate duty to guide him to their path.

Sera wanted Adam in heaven to clear her mind- to have heaven back to perfection with the original perfection creation (also to have her son back, but she's not ready to unpack that for herself.)

Lucifur wanted adam as he could punish him directly for hurting Charlie and her friends. A little tiny part of him also really wants Adam all for himself grrryrvgrvsgrs

So both heaven and hell spawn a representative guide for Adam to follow once his soul is ready to guide. Lucifur nominated himself and Sera nominated Micheal who agreed.

For some reason (probably amix of earth and god or sumn), Adam's presence nulls the powers of both angels and devils. So the first time they appear, Micheal and lucifur appear as small tiny mascots on Adam’s shoulder.

(Adam has flicked both of them away several times and they can't really do anything about it other than fly back and try again)

Both sides had the same idea and Adam connects the dots very fast on why they are here without them telling him. And he's pissed.

His normal life is now ruined.

Adam actually really hates both Lucifur and Micheal. Lucifur for obvious reasons and Micheal because he's just so nitpickey. Micheal had trained Adam in the past and that guy was brutal. Adam understood part of it was with Lucifurs falling and their brother thing and whatever but god daymn bro needed to chill. If Sera was on him like a hawk Micheal had been on him like a spy camera from space monitored by the secret service. In a way, both devalued adams emotions to some capacity so Adam hated both of them equally. Nothing Adam could do about it though because he was human.

In the beginning, both micheal and lucifur kept it really formal between them. Its strained but neither brother imposes on what the other one advises. That doesn’t stay for too long. The formalities between Lucifur and Micheal die pretty quickly. Under 2 months tops. While both are very old and very much adults, they are, first and foremost, SIBLINGS.

Both begin talking over eachother, butting in, shoving eachother. It's like pre eden all over again between the two on who is better. Most of the time they argue about the most random topics forgetting their og purpose.

After one year of enduring both of their bs, Adam feels like he has a dog and a cat rather than two otherworldly gaurdians monitoring his every move.

He doesn't complain though. After a while he's learned to tune them out. He also finds it incredibly entertaining watching the literal devil fight with the a high angel while being incredibly small. And with no powers it resorts to petty slapping. He's gotten pretty used to it....

Except when it comes to them making him choose what actions he takes.

They're always on him about everything. It sucks so much ass. Everything Adam tries to do something good, Lucifur tells him that it's stupid, that he should be more selfish and blocks Adam. He keeps on telling him that deep down adam really isnt all that, and why should he try and do good when everyone knows that hes not really that. Micheal does the same thing in reverse. When Adam does something considered bad, Micheal raves on how he'll go to hell. That Adam was made in perfection and must reach that perfection. That heaven is waiting for him and is available only if he keeps on doing good.

It makes Adam so mad when they remember what they're trying to do.

Adam doesn’t listen to either angel because after living part of his life as just a normal person, he’s come to realize he doesn’t want to think about living life wondering if he’s going to heaven or hell. Adam does not want to face eternal punishment or be in hell. He still really hates sinners, and while the blood hungry killer part of him died with his second life, he still thinks that the majority of those sinners are disgusting to say the least. But he doesn’t want to walk eggshells to be virtuous enough to enter heaven. Heaven, for all its greatness got tiring after 1000s of years. He's grown tired- already hated hell and grew to hate heaven. He doesn’t want to think about either, he doesn’t want those ideas to deter him from choosing what he wants to do. He wants to make both good and bad decisions without an angel watching over him. He wants to be able to make both good and bad decisions. He makes this very clear after a breakdown.

It becomes less of a competition over making Adam choose and more of getting into Adam’s favor after that because their first tactic is clearly not working.

So both agree that they will have to earn adams favor before making him do anything.

But in order to get adams favor both have to learn to get along because it had become one of Adam's biggest gripes. Funny at first, but the bickering and arguments got tiring after the course of a few years.

So they do attempt to make up. Genuinely. It's hard and its tough. Theres a lot there to unpack. But both jnkw that if they don't do this Adam is not going to listen to either of them because getting along has go go both ways.

And they do make up.

By the time Adam is in his early 30s, the close proximity and a lot of Adam yelling to sort it out, allowed for some slow but needed time to talk it out. They would do it infront of Adam who was the mediator, but they mostly would talk when Adam falls asleep as both watch over his dreams (creepos imo). They begin talking about their decision and their lives. Both brothers do acknowledge that they miss each other and that they have committed several wrongs with each other. And soon the fighting turns to light banter and life is good. They still try to earn adams favor but it's a lot more calmer. Everything's more calm.

Atleast that's what adam thought at first.

While bonding and stuff, they both come to the mutual agreement that they could share Adam. So they both freak it and try to woo Adam together.

And then now it's a matter of Adam freaking out because while before, both his little shoulder angels used to argue, they their bickering distracted them enough that Adam could chill and leave.

Now they're both bothering him and helping eachother try to get in adams pants. They're tag teaming him now.

It doesn't take long for their combined forces to make Adam cave.

The og goal is kinda gone. They still put their input but adams become more open it because they're less demanding and he feels like their goals are more aligned to his wants than theirs. Lucifur and Micheal also come to kinda realize that where Adam ends is where Adam ends. They're going to have to just suck it up when the time comes but they'll enjoy sharing while it lasts.

It gets pretty domestic and slice of life here. So the years following is a mix of sibling bonding and having ✨️the rizz✨️ on Adam.

Lucifur talks about hell and Charlie. Micheal talks about heaven and lucifur and his siblings. (Both Micheal and Lucifur arent permannt shoulder angels, they can actually pop away if they wanted to) Adam talks about his life and stuff.

When Adam eventually dies, his soul is neither here or there (because getting absolutely boned by twin morningstars does not make you virtuous or sinful it just makes you a bad bitch) his soul spawns in limbo. He’s deprived from salvation but doesn’t endure the horrors of hell. It’s basically a decent sided garden with a basic house in the middle where the garden ends is white space. On opposite ends of the garden are two doors, one goes to hell and the other to heaven. Turns out, the doors are connected to Micheal and Lucifer’s homes, but only appeared in them once Adam died. He’s allowed outside limbo into heaven or hell of his choosing for a limited amount of time and visites Micheal and Lucifer when he can. On the flip side Micheal and Lucifer can freely walk in and out of the place. I don’t want Adam to be lonely once he enters limbo so Cain and Abel are there because they died before heaven was ready and when he’ll just started.

So that’s pretty much it :3 kinda

incomplete but doesn't have everything I wanna say

Also

I will reiterate what I said at the beginning. I love you my guitarhero ppl but they are right in the tagging. It comes from a place of love so just be mindful!! Also, this is from me, sometimes the adamsapple vs guitarhero thing gets repetitive. It's a very common post ive seen. And I mean in general not just leaking into the adamsapple tag. That might just be me, but I do see it pretty often. Love it but that with the tagging does get a bit old. Really, the problem is a mix of incorrect tagging and the same trope. There's a lot more to the ship, especially with Micheal being free reign rn, so there is a lot of opportunity to show their relationship besides comparing it to Adamsapple.

I feel like somone who ships guitarhero also had to say something so yeyeye

Again, no offense to anyone guitarhero isbmy love but just please be mindful guys o3o

If you read all that thank you lol

[seokgyuu]

Coming back home for the summer hasn’t been fun in ages. Thankfully, that is just about to change when you lay eyes on Matthew who, according to Taerae, isn’t into older girls. Never backing down from a challenge you decide to approach him anyways - making yourself younger than you actually are and calling Matthew “oppa” more times than probably necessary.

Pairing: Seok Matthew x Fem!Reader

Genre: Comedy, Smut

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: Reader is actively lying to Matthew to get into his pants, loads and loads of usage of the word “oppa”, alcohol drinking (idk in what country this universe is, they call each other with honorifics but they kind of are in the states because i made the drinking age 21…. just don’t pay it any mind ok, it’s porn disguised as a funny story) , this work contains adult content! MDNI! Smut warnings under the cut!

Playlist: Hot in Herre - Nelly (you’ll get it), Yeah - Usher, Murder on the Dancefloor - Sophie Ellis-Bextor, Break Your Heart - Taio Cruz, Durch den Monsun - Tokio Hotel

A/N: thank you sm @xscoupsx for the perfect header & divider!!! absolute masterpiece i am still staring at it. finally got this worm out of my brain!!! take this with a grain of salt, it's all fun and giggles. Tags: @cheolism, @the-boy-meets-evil

When you get home that day it’s his number on your phone (that he saved as ‘matthew oppa’ of course) that pops up asking if you made it home safely. It’s Taerae’s number that pops up to let you know he’s blocking you. Giggling, you fall down onto your bed, your slippers hanging off your feet threatening to fall off any second, but instead of caring, you open up instagram. You find him quick and easy, Seok Matthew followed by Gyuvin and Taerae and Hanbin and basically everyone you know in this small town. How come you’ve never seen him before? 

Smut warnings: oppa kink, sexting, masturbation (f&m), unprotected sex (booo!), blowjob, cumming in mouth, lmk if i missed anything!

“Forget it. He’s not into older girls.”

Taerae is sipping on his milkshake watching you watch his former classmate and friend Matthew. You’re in the mall in Taerae’s hometown which also happens to be your hometown. You’ve left for college around a year and a half ago and coming back here never truly excites you anymore. Or at least it didn’t use to. Now, looking at the young man outside of Mikey’s Milkshakes handing out flyers with sweat dripping down his temples, you think that just about changed. 

“He doesn’t know that I’m older,” you shoot back, sucking on your own straw and enjoying the taste of peanut butter on your tongue.

“You look older, noona.”

A napkin hits Taerae’s forehead. It was you. You threw the napkin. He just chuckles and shakes his head

“No, you don’t get it. Matthew is… weird. Like he has this whole thing where he hates when people call him cute. He gets all upset and tells them he isn’t cute, he’s Woohyun oppa.”

While you do cringe, you also find it quite interesting. You’ve heard of this before - younger guys who didn’t like to be younger. He was Taerae’s age, so freshly 21 and attending the local college with Tae, which meant if anything he would have to go for girls 18 or 19 and, come on, they surely couldn’t please him like you! 

“How convenient,” you smile in a way that makes Taerae shiver in something close to fear, “I’ve always wanted to try calling a younger guy oppa.”

“You’re horrible,” Tae comments, shoving his milkshake away from him, “horrible and crazy. He is never going to fall for you being younger.”

“Really? Want to make this interesting then?” The evil grin on your face certainly means nothing but trouble. But it’s summer and this town is boring as hell with nothing ever happening. So, why not? Taerae shakes your hand, betting against you that you, in fact, will not succeed to bed Matthew. It’s not just pride that’s on the line but also free milkshakes for the rest of the summer. 

You somehow convince your friend Gyuvin to act like you’re his same age cousin from a different town. As it turns out he also knows Matthew. How does everyone know this guy but you? And why has no one ever mentioned to you how they have an extremely attractive friend who just so happens to have an oppa kink? 

It’s honestly a mystery to you how Taerae didn’t think you’d be able to pull off being a 04’ liner. You can pretend to be way younger than you are! You don’t look like you’re twenty-three! Matthew is eating out of your hand by lunch. He listens to you attentively and everytime you call him “oppa” he seems to melt into his chair. 

When you get home that day it’s his number on your phone (that he saved as ‘matthew oppa’ of course) that pops up asking if you made it home safely. It’s Taerae’s number that pops up to let you know he’s blocking you. Giggling, you fall down onto your bed, your slippers hanging off your feet threatening to fall off any second, but instead of caring, you open up instagram. You find him quick and easy, Seok Matthew followed by Gyuvin and Taerae and Hanbin and basically everyone you know in this small town. How come you’ve never seen him before? 

His profile isn’t private which means you didn’t have to follow him to stalk his 103 posts, but you still do. It saddens you that you can’t comment things like “you look so good, oppa” or “woah, that color looks so perfect on you, oppa”, but you digress. Sucking on a popsicle from the freezer, you scroll through his feed, seeing that he definitely hasn’t been this hot for a long time. There is a ringing in your ear and you try to lose it by scratching it. What the hell? Back to Matthew, please! Just last year he looked like a teenager freshly hitting puberty and now? He’s buff and handsome and just thinking about what might be under that shirt makes your thighs press together. Perhaps you have a serious problem because when you spot the highlight saying “gym” with the flexing arm emoji, you are already halfway down with your hand to touch yourself. 

His gym pics are a goldmine for your dirty fantasies and thoughts about the man you’re planning to seduce. There is one where he flexes his arm and grinning while winking into the mirror he’s taking the pic in. Then there is the one where he is sitting on the bench press, leaned forward with a half smirk, his tight tank top leaving nothing to the imagination. The shorts he’s wearing make you feel dizzy and as you imagine what his cock would look like and what he would feel like inside of you, you begin to circle your clit with your thumb, throwing your head back as you continue your fantasy. Matthew and you on that bench press, his strong arms holding you down as he fucks into you mercilessly. 

A ‘ping’ disrupts your session and you open your eyes, looking down to see he had texted you again. It’s almost comical - you thinking about him fucking you and touching yourself to that thought and him texting you a “it was so nice to meet you” message as if you weren’t thinking about him fucking your brains out. 

Sighing, you pull your hand out of your panties, wiping them off on your shorts and decide to text him back. 

matthew oppa: it was so nice to meet you

you: you too, oppa <3

matthew oppa: hehe

matthew oppa: so, what are your plans this week? 

you: hmm, not much… why?

matthew oppa: oh well, i was wondering if maybe you’d wanna go to a drive in with me?

you: ohh, like watching a movie in a car?

matthew oppa: yeah, exactly!

Now, this is where your current horniness decides to take over. Licking over your lips you sink deeper into your pillows, your slippers completely fallen off now, your legs spreading slightly as you stare at the screen, thinking about how you can make this guy jerk off to you right now without sounding too experienced. 

you: well… i would love to see you again, oppa, but…

matthew oppa: but…?

you: my friends… they told me some things about drive ins you know

matthew oppa: huh? what things?

you: uhm… like that when you go to a drive in with a boy… well you know 🙈

matthew oppa: oh

matthew oppa: y/n you don’t have to worry

matthew oppa: i won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with, oppa promises 

you: that’s nice of you to say, oppa💕

you: but… what if i want something you’re not comfortable with? 

matthew oppa: what do you mean?

you: it’s embarrassing 🥺

matthew oppa: you don’t have to be embarrassed with oppa, yn 

you: ok if you say so…

you: it’s just that i know we only met today but

you: i just can’t stop thinking about you

matthew oppa: that’s cute 

matthew oppa: oppa can’t stop thinking about you too, if that makes you feel better baby

Baby. You bite down on your lip. As much as it makes you cringe it makes your pussy wet, the way he speaks and reacts, how he addresses himself as ‘oppa’. You wonder if maybe your need to get laid is taking over the intelligence you usually inhabit. 

you: really? 🥺

matthew oppa: yeah

you: are you also… thinking naughty thoughts, oppa?

matthew oppa: oh

matthew oppa: are you thinking naughty thoughts, baby?

you: idk… 🥺

matthew oppa: you can be honest with oppa, baby, i would never judge you

you: i am thinking naughty thoughts

matthew oppa: like what?

you: saw oppa’s instagram… your gym highlight

matthew oppa: you liked it?

you: a lot 🙈

matthew oppa: how much did you like it, baby?

you: so much that i got all wet… down there

You want to die and at the same time you don’t think you’ve been this wet (down there) in ages. Not the dude from the semester end party who had fucked you in the smallest bathroom known to mankind and most certainly not Jiwoong last summer. You wonder if anyone has ever made you this wet without even physically being present.

matthew oppa: fuck

matthew oppa: you got wet just from my pictures? you like oppa that much?

you: i do… it’s so embarrassing

you: stared at you the whole day today… now i want you to do bad things to me, oppa

matthew oppa: yeah? what do you want me to do?

you: wanna get on my knees for you and have oppa fuck my mouth 🙈

matthew oppa: shit… got my cock so hard from just reading that, baby. 

you: does oppa wanna fuck my mouth?

matthew oppa: fuck yeah. your mouth and your wet pussy baby

you: i’m so wet oppa, so wet for you 🥺

matthew oppa: can i call you?

He ends up calling you before you can respond his raspy voice on the other side of the line already telling you he’s getting off. What follows is just the two of you simultaneously masturbating while telling the other dirty things you wanna do to each other. He tells you how he wants to fuck you (his main fantasy seems to be you on all fours and him behind you drilling into you like a sledgehammer) and how you need him to fill you inexperienced pussy.

Obviously you don’t say that, you just hint at it. Matthew wants to be an oppa, he wants someone younger who looks up to him - especially in a sexual way. So, of course you’re gonna lie to him and tell him you’ve only had sex like twice and both times had been five minutes tops and you also had never had a guy make you cum or cum inside of you. All of these are lies. Your body count has gotten to a point of you not even remembering anymore and the amount of plan bs you had taken should probably be illegal. You’re not responsible when it comes to fucking and you are well aware. Matthew, though, doesn’t need to know this. 

When he cums with your name on his lips and you cum begging for him to fill you up, you call it a night. 

The drive in idea doesn’t come up again. You worry for a day that he might have lost interest. Then, you hear from Gyuvin that the drive in had to close because there was a fire and Matthew has just been swamped with work. You deem that as a good enough reason for him to leave you on read for approximately two seconds before it starts to piss you off. Thankfully, summers in your hometown promise extreme ragers every weekend to which you are sure Matthew will come too. At least you hope he does.

Out of all people, Jiwoong is the one to throw the first big rager of the summer and even knowing that Jiwoong could very easily blow your cover, you decide to go. With your sluttiest little dress and some skimpy underwear on, Taerae only sighs when you get into his car.

“You will give the man a damn heart attack,” he comments as he turns out of your parents driveway. You chuckle.

“Let’s hope that happens after I win that bet against you, Taetae.” 

“You truly are a horrible person. Lying to get into someone’s pants? Shouldn’t that be below you?” 

“Dramaqueen.” You roll your eyes and pull down the visor to open the small mirror and check your make-up. 

“I’m just saying,” Taerae continues as he stops at a traffic light, “watch out. If he finds out you’re lying chances are he’s gonna be mad.”

“Come on. I’ve lived in this town my whole fucking life. If anything it’s kind of his fault for not knowing me.”

It is odd. How he has apparently been in Taerae’s class all this time and neither of you knew each other. But then again, how were you supposed to know everyone? You don’t see Taerae looking at you with the biggest side eye. And even if you had, you probably wouldn’t have cared. 

Jiwoongs house is huge. His parents are both lawyers or whatever and you remember vividly how one of Jiwoong’s friends wanted to hit on you, some small unremarkable guy you had already forgotten the name of, and how Jiwoong saved you from him, getting your pussy as a thank you. In his parent’s room. You wonder if they ever found out.

There is already loud music playing when you get to the house, Tae parking his car in the last available spot on the street. Getting out, you try your best not to flash the people walking past you and Tae chuckles when you land on your heels a little shaky. You decide to ignore him and just start walking towards the door, him right behind you. Right at the entrance you already spot Gyuvin with Ricky and Gunwook and you raise your brows when you spot a red cup on the latter’s hand.

“It’s coke, noona, I swear!” He says the second you reach him, showing off the contents of his cup by tilting it slightly. Clicking your tongue you nod in approval, moving on to the other two. 

“Technically,” Gyuvin says, his own cup suspiciously close to his chest and far away from your glaring eyes, “you are the same age as us tonight, so…,” he seriously tries to talk him out of this. You put your hands on your hips and look at him, Ricky, his cup, Ricky’s cup. The two share a gaze before sighing and finally handing the cups to you. You smile triumphantly.

“Very good. Thank you, boys.” 

“Aaaand these are for me, thank you very much,” a voice startles you, taking the two cups from your hands. Your look to your right and see Taerae grinning widely.

“What? If they are underage, so are you, bestie.” 

Waving with his occupied hands, Tae goes inside humming along to the music. You groan and roll your eyes, knowing full well you did this to yourself but also hating Taerae because this was obviously all his fault.

“Now, now. We can all have a wonderful time without alcohol!” Gunwook smiles widely and if he wasn’t so adorable you might have punched him in the stomach. Instead, you just sigh once more and walk into the house, leaving the three boys behind.

Inside, there is a big crowd of people gathered in the spacey living room and your eyes are already scanning your surroundings for Matthew. While you really want him to fuck you (like so much you literally thought about not wearing any panties just for him. Then you put on your dress and realized there was no way in hell), you also need to stay in character. You are innocent, shy, a young girl who needs her oppa to show her the ropes. Perhaps, you are even a little insecure because he left you on read for two days, who knows?

It doesn’t take long to spot him. And when you do, you are suddenly thankful Tae took the cups away from you because you for sure would have dropped them. It’s almost comical that Nelly’s “Hot in Herre”starts playing right this second. 

Matthew has his hair styled up, a few strands falling into his forehead, his face so perfectly on display you want to place kisses all over it. And as if that wasn’t enough, there is a white sleeveless shirt on his muscular body that lets everyone know he is buff and proud of it. 

Fuck. You need him. Like, right now. 

No one has ever looked that fucking delicious, you decide. He is the yummiest person on this planet and you’re gonna have him. 

For a few moments, you only watch him. Watch how he talks to someone you don’t know, how he nips at his cup, how he laughs at a joke. It’s a miracle you haven’t started drooling. People keep on walking around you and only when one nearly runs you over, you decide to move closer to Matthew. So far, he hasn’t seen you. 

Biting down on your lip, you wonder how you could best catch his attention without going right over to him. The solution presents itself in the form of Hanbin standing leaned against the wall with a cup in one and his phone in the other hand. 

Showtime. You grin to yourself. Then, you get into character. 

“Hanbin oppa!” You squeal, loud enough for Matthew and the girl he is talking to hear. And when Matthew sees you, sees the way you beam at Hanbin, he feels a sting in his pride. His eyes burn into you, making you feel hot all over. 

Hanbin, on the other hand, is more than confused. Mainly because you’re older than him and just called him oppa. 

“Uh, what?” 

“Play along, or you’re dead,” you say with the same enthusiastic beam as before, your voice lowered for only Hanbin to hear. He clears his throat and nods. He knows not to mess with you and your antics.

“S-sure, uhm, whats up?” 

“Trying to make Matthew think I wanna fuck you instead of him,” you laugh loudly, as if he had said something funny, your left hand slightly hitting his shoulder, while the other twirls a strand of hair around your finger. Hanbin’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Right, Tae mentioned you were doing that.” He shoves his phone into the back pocket of his jeans and watches you with his brows still raised. 

“Don’t judge me, Sung Hanbin. I remember very well how you tried to get with Katie last summer and literally told her your dad invented fucking Microsoft.”

“Is it my fault she didn’t know Bill Gates?” Hanbin defends himself right away and you chuckle. 

“No. Is it my fault Matthew’s into younger girls?”

Hanbin stays silent for a beat, the song now changing to Usher’s “Yeah” and you wonder what decade you’re in.

“Fair point. But then again I’m just confused becau-,”

“Y/N!”

An arm is wrapped around your waist the next second, an arm you’ve been fantasizing over for days now. 

“Oppa, hi,” your eyes are basically hearts staring up at him. Hanbin thinks he’s very likely stuck in a simulation.

“Hyung,” Matthew smiles at Hanbin, but even someone blind could have figured out it wasn’t an actual smile, “I think Hao hyung is looking for you. Better go check on him, yeah?” 

Hao hyung  definitely isn’t looking for him. Hao hyung is upstairs with a cute boy and a cute girl and Hanbin is well aware. Taking this as his leave, he nods at both of you and leaves you to your idiotic game. 

“Hey,” Matthew now looks at you, eyes softening only slightly. 

“Hi,” you repeat yourself, biting down on your lip.

“I was hoping to see you here.” 

He moves closer to you, your back hitting the wall and his other hand tugging a loose hair behind your ear. 

“Did you? I thought maybe you weren’t interested anymore after we, you know….” You truly deserve an Oscar for the performance you’re giving. Matthew licks over his lips.

“After you came so good for me on the phone, you mean?” His eyes bore into yours and your panties are seemingly swimming away. 

“I- I, yes, after that.”

“Of course oppa is still interested, baby. Oppa just had a lot of work, oppa is sorry.”

He leans closer to you, both hands now on your waist and you can feel the growing tension.

“Oppa..,” you whimper when he is right there, so close to kiss you. 

“Oppa has been thinking about you and your tight pussy all week, will you let Oppa fuck her?”

You moan when his hands creep around and squeeze your ass. 

“W-We didn’t even r-really talk!” You cry after, but Matthew just chuckles, his lips hovering over your own. 

“We can still talk after, doll. Now I desperately need to sink my cock into you, ‘am already so fucking hard.” 

And then he kisses you. Kisses you hard and so full of lust and desperation your knees give in. He pulls you closer against him and you can feel he didn’t lie. He is hard. You decide not to give it too much thought as of why. 

Instead, you part from him, breathlessly and grab his hand to take him to the one room you know for sure won’t be occupied. 

Matthew’s hands are all over you. Groping your boobs one second, then they are back on your ass, all while Murder On the Dancefloor blasts through the house. Desperation radiates off of him and you bathe in it. Bathe in the way he drags your dress up and touches every second of skin he frees. His lips chase yours in haste and you wrap your arms around his neck, letting him push you towards the large bed in the center of the room. 

“Shit, you’re so hot,” he whispers against your lips and you suck his tongue into your mouth as a response. You know he’s already hard. Can feel it when you press your hand against his crotch. He moans and kisses you harder, tongue continuously slapping against yours like he needs to prove a point. 

Your back hits the bed seconds later, his thigh pressed between yours against your clothed cunt that’s already throbbing with want. 

“Want you so bad, oppa,” you cry out, hands fumbling with that god forsaken muscle shirt that has got your pussy wet the second you spotted him in it. He rips off his body the next second and you sigh in absolute bliss. Immediately, you move to touch his toned torso, his defined abs, his perfect shoulders. Fuck, he is incredibly hot. 

“Yeah? Want oppa to fuck you, hm?” His voice is deep and raspy against your ear and you nod rapidly, moving your hips against his thigh. Matthew chuckles, hands back to squeeze your tits, causing you to arch your back against him. His touch feels intoxicating, already got you addicted. It’s the way he is still oh so desperate for you. His kisses are sloppy and his cock is hard against you, his hips moving for any kind of friction. A part of you wants to take your sweet time with him, put him in your mouth, have him come undone on your tongue. Work him so long until he can fuck you for real. But there is a party downstairs and people will eventually notice you’re gone. 

“Put it in me, oppa, please, please, please.” 

He groans at your begging, his head nodding as if in trance, quickly ridding you of your panties and himself of his pants. You watch with a heaving chest how he doesn’t even fully shove his jeans and briefs down his legs, how they pool there at his ankles as he gets on his knees and flips you over. You gasp in surprise, another enormous wave of lust overcoming you when he pulls you up, your ass in the air, the perfect position for him to fuck you like he wanted to. 

Matthew is surprised he isn’t foaming at the mouth with you in front of him like this. His eyes are glued to your glistening pussy, his cock hard against his stomach. Grabbing his cock, he jerks himself off a few times before guiding himself to your entrance - only to stop just before he breaches you.

“Shit, I don’t have a condom,” he curses. You look back at him.

“Just pull out, Matthew, please.” 

In your impatience you forgot to call him “oppa”. For a second you’re worried but he is too distracted by you wanting him to fuck you raw he doesn’t even notice the missing honorific. 

Without any more hesitation, he finally sinks into you, his thick head stretching you out just the way you hoped it would. Your fingers grab the bedsheets, eyes falling shut as you get used to the way he feels, inch by inch. And, shit, does he feel good. 

Matthew is scared he’ll come right away when he bottoms out. His cock has never felt more comfortable inside anyone before. Almost as if he was made to fuck you and only you. Thankfully, he doesn’t immediately shoot his load and instead begins to move. And really, he tried to start slow and steady, he really did. But he’s just a horny dude, in the end. His thrusts are rapid and hard and you feel like you’re high. Your thoughts are empty, there is only him and the way he fucks you like an animal. All you feel is your rising orgasm, your pussy squeezing him over and over, your moans getting louder and louder. Matthew isn’t quiet either - both of you seem like you’re harmonising as he fucks you from behind with gluttal moans escaping him every few seconds. His eyes are rolled back and his hands are around your waist, holding you so hard you’re sure there will be marks later on. You are more than ready to welcome them. 

“You- You take oppa’s cock so fucking well, fuck,” Matthew is so close to finishing, you can feel it. 

“Oppa fucks me so good! Don’t stop!” You push your hips against him and he gifts you another one of his melodic moans that have you gushing over his cock. He curses under his breath. 

“Yeah, I can feel how much you like oppa fucking you, such a naughty girl, aren’t you?” His nails dig into your skin and you cry out, his dirty words doing exactly what they are supposed to: bring you close to the edge.

“Ngh- Oppa! Gonna c-cum!” Your mouth hangs open, drool landing on Jiwoong’s parent’s bed. Matthew’s head is spinning and he does his best to keep fucking you exactly like this. He wants you to cum before he does, wants you to cum on his cock, wants to feel you squeeze and clench around him. Wants your release to be the finishing touches for his. 

And when he leans slightly forward, his arm creeping around you to press his thumb to your clit, you can feel the knot tighten and finally explode. 

You’re cumming hard around his cock, vibrating around him with nothing but utter pleasure. You keep calling for him, tell him to keep going, to fuck you through your orgasm and he manages to pull out of you just when you deem yourself satisfied. Quickly, he jerks himself off, ready to finish on your ass, when suddenly you are right there, your mouth around his tip, catching his spurts of cum that shoot out the second he feels your lips around him.

“O-oh, f-fuck! Yeah, t-take all of oppas cum! Fuuuuck!” He pushes you further down his cock, nose in his neatly trimmed pubic hair, more and more strings of his cum gushing down your throat. You swallow every last bit, even lick him clean when he pulls you back, his eyes meeting yours. 

“That was insane,” he says, helping you sit up fully. You grin and pull him down into a kiss he is more than happy to return. 

With your clothes back where they belong, the two of you walk out of Jiwoong’s parents room only to run into… Jiwoong. A mad Jiwoong. Who has a girl with him. A girl who looks more spooked than she should considering she came up here with Jiwoong for probably the same reason as you and Matthew did.

“Oh, hey!” You chirp and Jiwoong looks from you to Matthew and back. 

“”Oh, hey”? Are you fucking with me?” 

“Pretty sure I was just fucking with him, oppa,” you counter, thumb pointing over your shoulder and at Matthew who awkwardly lifts his hand in a wave. Jiwoong groans. 

“Would you give us a second?” He says to the girl and the girl rolls her eyes but finally nods, making her way down the hallway and back downstairs, where Taio Cruz’s Break You Heart is most definitely making the people lose their shit on the dancefloor.

“Yo, hyung, sorry, I know this is your parents room and all, but-,”

Jiwoong raises his hand and Matthew stops speaking. 

“Frankly, I don’t give a fuck, thank you very much. I am more interested in what the fuck this is.” 

He points between you and Matthew and the two of you share a look.

“What- what do you mean?” You ask, continuing to play innocent. 

Jiwoong blinks.

“Are you- are you for real?” 

With being so focused on not understanding what the fuck Jiwoong is on about, you fail to see Matthew using his hands to gesture to Jiwoong to stop talking!

“Jiwoong oppa, what is your problem?” You ask, crossing your arms. 

“My- what my problem is? Jesus, Y/N, just last summer you turned Matty down and instead went to fuck me and now this?”

“What are you talking about, what Matty, wha-,” 

Matty. Matt…y… Matt….hew. Oh.

You remember. Remember the friend that had hit on you, the small unremarkable guy that you couldn’t even remember the name of when you tried. You hadn’t been mean to him, just politely said no and while he did take it as an answer, he still tried to make conversation. Matty. 

Slowly, you turn to Matthew, your mouth hanging slightly open. He is red as a beet and one of his hands is rubbing his neck awkwardly. 

“You- you are Matty?” You ask. After another beat of silence (not really silence considering there was still a party going on) he nods.

“Yes, that would be me.”

You are dumbfounded. Flabbergasted. In shock. Your arm flies to Jiwoong’s shoulder to hold yourself steady.

“But you are- you are so-,”

“You told me you saw the gym pics, didn’t you?”

Oh yeah, you did. 

“You know I am not younger than you?”

“Younger than him, wha-,” Jiwoong chimes in, but neither you nor Matthew pay him any mind.

“Yup.” He pops the “p” at the end and you feel like you’re about to faint.

“So… everyone knows…. you know?” 

“Yup,” he repeats.

They are playing fucking Tokio Hotel downstairs now. 

“Right. Right, sure. That- uh, my bad.” You stand up straight again, letting your hands run over your dress. 

“Noona-,” Matthew starts, but you hold up your hand. 

“Let’s not. I need to let this sink in.”

You walk down the stairs and of course Taerae is leaning against the frame of the big arch, grinning from ear to ear. There is no way of knowing how he even fucking knows what just happened, but he does. When you finally get your hands on your first drink of the night, you are sure the bet was all part of the plan you were so kindly left out of. 

Later, when you spot Matthew with Hanbin and Gyuvin and your eyes meet, you tip your cup at him. Well played.

“If it makes you feel better, he probably would have had you call him oppa during sex anyways,” Ricky says from next to you and you close your eyes. 

This is going to be a long summer. 

[lunaviee]

can i request where reader cant go to their match and they got angry which makes them say the word "i shouldve invite *ex's name*, she wouldve come." and reader reaction can be up to you! with rin and maybe chigiri? thank you so much and please stay hydrate! sending loves <33

OHHH MYYY GODDD ANONNN……..

the way i gasped so loud when i saw this OMGOMG

okay so, idk if you’re wanting PURE ANGST for this but like i’ll add fluff at the end anyway bc the more the merrier😇😁😁

OKAY SO UMM..i’m a procrastinator, it’s no secret. so uhh chigiris will be posted when i remember to work on it, sorry😭

“are you serious?” “you’re..kidding, right?”

chigiri hyoma and rin itoshi x reader (seperate) click here for chigiri’s

tags/warnings: angst to comfort, swearing, arguing, NOT PROOFREAD…

synopsis: if he’s so insistent on you being there to support him, why doesn’t he do the same?

a/n: i am SO SORRY this took so long </3 i got busy but this request is soo..chefs kiss i hope i did it justice😓

RIN ITOSHI—

the faint mumbles from the tv filled rin’s apartment as you made a quick snack to eat, knowing your boyfriend should be home any minute. you sat down on the couch to eat, turning the tv volume up as background noise while you looked out the window. it faced a gorgeous view of your city, along with a nice view of the sunset.

after some time, you were back in the kitchen to clean up a bit.

*click*

the jingling of keys indicated rin was home, a tad later that usual but you payed no mind to it.

“hey,” you smiled, “welcome home, how was practice?” arms wrapping around his neck as he set his bag down, taking his shoes off. his arm snaked around your waist to pull you closer to him, planting a kiss on your temple.

“eh, same as always. those lukewarm lunatics don’t know what they’re doing”

you hummed in response, rin pulling away from you to look you in the eye. he spoke again. “we have a game in a few days. you’re going, right?” it sounded more like a demand than a question.

“oh uh about that” you broke eye contact, a twinge of nervousness tainted your face. “i was given an extra shift at work so i’ll be swamped, i don’t think i’ll be able to make it, sorry”

his before softened gaze now pierced right through you, full of annoyance. “really? i thought you’d want to come to my games.” his arms left your torso and flopped to his side, lower back resting on the counter.

“i do! i always do..rin you know this, i go to your games when i can but lately i’ve just been more busy an-” you rambled.

he cut you off, “quit the excuses.”

“excuse me?” you replied, shocked at how his silver tongue was so quick to interrupt you.

“i get it. you’re busy. you don’t have to make up these half-baked excuses and try to make me feel better.” he moved from the counter, straightening his back and showing his full height, looking down on you as if you were less than him at that moment.

“excuses? rin, what the hell are you talking about? i’m being serious.” confusion swirled in your mind, what was up with him??

“you know, i never had these problems with *ex’s name*. she was always happy to come to my games. no excuses, no lies. every game, she was there. why can’t you be like that?” rin’s venom stained words singed into your brain, glints of annoyance pooled in his eyes. a twinge of guilt settled in his gut the minute those words spilled out of his mouth, but he payed no mind to it.

“what?” your eyes widened in disbelief, “are you fucking serious?”

how could he say that? sure, rin was petty and used bitter language when he was upset, but comparing you to his ex? that was a new low, even for him. after all of the crap you two talked about when mentioning both of your exes in the past, you’d assume he’d want absolutely nothing to do with her. right?

“why wouldn’t i be?” not once did his gaze leave your figure, was he serious? “she actually took my career seriously.”

you were beyond shocked, eyes narrowing as your brows knitted together. “invite her then.” you retorted. “maybe i will, maybe then i’ll have someone who actually supports me there.” he scoffed.

his words made your blood boil, eye twitching before you spoke again, “get out.” you gritted through your teeth, fingers fiddling with the hem of your (his) sweater as to not lose your cool.

“what?” he scoffed, not expecting such a response (he really should have, what was he thinking??)

“did i fucking stutter? or is your skull too thick to hear what i have to say. get. out.”

the strikers face further scrunched, yet not moving an inch. “this is my apartment. if you’re upset, then leave.” he brushed past you without a single regret as to what he had said, not entirely believing you’d actually leave, where else did you have to go?

“fine then.” you slipped your shoes on while dialing a number on your phone before slamming the door, leaving the rin to sit with his thoughts. you had much, much more to say, but the thought of having to stay in the same vicinity as you made your stomach churn.

who did you call? why, your best friend of course, who else would you trust with this information. sure, rin’s teammates weren’t bad people to open up to, but you needed someone who could understand your feelings through angry sobs and incoherent mumbles.

it was only a matter of time before you were sat on yours friends bed, angry tears burning your cheeks as you rambled on about how dumb your boyfriend was.

“break up with him” your friend mumbled, only half joking. “me personally, i wouldn’t stay with a man, nah, a BOY who brings up his ex when he’s mad..”

you lifted your head from the tear stained pillow to meet your friend’s gaze. “yeah but……ugh i hate when you’re right” your sentence ending with a laugh

“i’m kidding..kind of” she sneered “either way, screw him, ghost his ass until he comes crying at your doorstep”

“what??” you shot up from your position, now almost on top of your friend. she was faced you, a more serious expression painting her face

“seriously though, you shouldn’t have to deal with that shit [n/n], he has the be the one to apologize.” you nodded in response, good thing your friend had a bit more common sense than you did in that moment.

“yeah, you’re right, thanks”

“any time, now do you wanna stay here or are you good to go home?”

“i’ll stay here and bug you more”

“okay then” she laughed out, the two of you now laying on the bed on your backs, staring at the ceiling

• { time skip - two days later } •

the radio silence that came from rin was like torture, did he not care? not a single text or phone call, not even a message given from one of his teammates. it was hard to stay positive.

sure, he deserved the silent treatment, but he was your boyfriend. his company single-handedly made your days better. being separated because of a fight that he didn’t want to resolve was stupid.

your friend tried taking you out today to get your mind off of the situation. it was going well, up until you walked into your favorite cafe.

you were met with a face you were too familiar with. rin’s. his eyes widened in disbelief and he twitched, almost as if he was about to run after you. and so you and your friend took one good look at him and immediately left. if the argument was going to be resolved, it wasn’t going to be in a public cafe.

your friend pushed you by the shoulders as you both shuffled out of the doors, you pulling out your phone to find another place to go to at the same time.

“shit.” was the only thing that rin had managed to mutter out as he saw the two of you running away from the cafe. it’s not that he wanted to avoid you. it’s that he was ashamed. he was scared that nothing he would say would amount to enough of an apology for what he said.

rin was scared that this was the end of you two. his worst fears of losing the one person he knew loved and understood him were coming true and is was his fault. the past few days were filled with doubt and regret, his teammates even noticing his practices were depleting.

the rest of the day came and went, your friend dropped you off back at your apartment where you collapsed on the couch, left with your thoughts once again. you were about to just pass out on your couch and ditch work the next morning, like you have been for the past few days.

that was until you heard a frantic knock on your door, jolting you awake. your worried expression dropped to one of annoyance and bitterness; it was rin. but, he looked different. his usually blank expression was now one of exhaustion and hurt.

he’d been..crying?

your eyes widened in confusion, you opened your mouth to tell him to leave before he cut you off.

“i’m sorry” he blurted out

he was looking down to you, except it was much different than before. rin looked desperate, his eye contact only further confirmed it.

he reached his hand out to place it on your shoulder, hesitating. you opened the door to let him in, sitting on the edge of your couch next to each other.

“i’m so sorry [name].”

“i know.”

“it was stupid, you mean so much to me and i..i ruined it.”

“i know.”

“please, you don’t need to forgive me now i just…”

he paused. rin’s head moved to look at the ground.

“i just need to know you won’t leave me. you can ignore me for as long as you’d like and i’d understand. but just…please i need you back” he begged, small tears brimming at his eyes, what a rare sight to see.

silence fell between the two of you, but it wasn’t like the comfortable silences you’ve shared before. it was tense and awkward.

“okay” your voice was barely above a whisper, “i won’t leave you, i think we both know that” you say with a smile.

rin looked back up at you, eyes wide, full of hope and relief.

“but listen i…” the moonlight only further highlighted just how much the two of you had been crying

“it’s gonna take some time. that was really fucked up, you know that?”

“yeah..yeah i know. i’m sorry. you’re nothing like her i-”

“i know.”

the two of you were now looking at each other, faces flushed from crying and relief. the silence was comfortable again.

“let’s just..go to sleep, yeah? we can talk about it in the morning, i think we both could discuss better afterwards” you offered, leaning closer to the armrest of your couch as you were too tired to go to your bed

rin hummed back in response, laying on your chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. your hands found their way to his hair, heartbeats practically synchronizing.

“you know..i’m still not going to your game” you whispered, peeking one eye open to watch your boyfriend. he smiled, “i know” a laugh spilled out of his mouth before you both fell asleep.

[scoobydoodean]

WAIT WAIT WAIT pleaseeee expand on sam separating his soul himself??? i’ve literally never heard this before (i really wanna agree cause i just can’t work out how cas just did not realize he’d forgotten sam’s soul)

This is just a pet theory I have. I first suggested it here when talking to Shal about Bobby not clocking Sam as soulless. The TL;DR is that Sam has a tendency to create emotional distance to protect himself from grief and other painful emotions. Shal's careful examinations of scripts reveal that it's even in the script direction when Mary dies that "Sam disassociates". In 8.08, Sam is paralleled with Fred, who disassociated to deal with grief (I talk about Sam distancing himself from his emotions in season 8 more largely here). I've been slowly collecting (when I remember) little bits and pieces around this idea that Sam tries to distance himself from his emotions in the tag #i just stopped—named that because of 11.11 when—after being confronted by Lucifer—Sam apologizes for leaving Dean in Purgatory, saying—seeming perplexed by his own actions:

I should've looked for you. When you were in Purgatory, I... I should've turned over every stone. But I didn't. I stopped. And I've never forgiven myself for it.

So this pet theory I have is that in The Cage, to cope with the torture being inflicted on him, Sam simply separated his soul from his body. It was the most extreme possible case of dissociating from his own suffering possible.

6.22 strengthens my belief in this theory because Sam splitting into three pieces is treated as a defense mechanism. It's kind of like an Id/Ego/Superego situation, except that the pieces are soulless Sam, Sam the hunter and family man, and the Sam who remembers hell.

SOULLESS!SAM: Well, your BFF Cas brought the Hell-wall tumbling down and you, pathetic infant that you are, shattered into pieces. (he points at Sam) Piece. (he points at himself) Piece.

SAM: I - I have no idea what you're talking about. SOULLESS!SAM: Why would you? You're jello, pal. Unlike me. SAM: What are you? SOULLESS!SAM: I'm not handicapped. I'm not saddled with a soul. In fact, I used to skipper this meatboat for a while. It was smooth sailing. I was sharp, strong. That is, 'til they crammed your soul back in. Now look at you. Same misty-eyed milksop you always were. That's because souls are weak. They're a liability. Now, nothing personal, but run the numbers. Someone's got to take charge around here, before it's too late. 

Sam and soulless Sam have a power struggle inside Sam's head over who gets control. Soulless Sam is really an enforcer, trying to protect Sam from his worst memories. As we see after Sam kills him:

You think I'm bad? Wait 'til you meet the other one.

Then when Sam finds the other part of himself:

SAM: I have to know what you know. What happened in the cage? TORTURED!SAM: Trust me, you don't wanna know it. SAM: You're right. But I still have to. TORTURED!SAM: Sam, you can't imagine. Stay here, go back, find that bartender, go find Jess, but don't do this. I know you. You're not strong enough. SAM: (exhales) We'll just have to see.

Of course, one could argue that Sam's subconscious creates this scenario with soulless Sam and the Sam who remembers hell because Death told them Sam would crumble and Soulless Sam was scared of the fallout of having his soul reinstalled. But idk. I feel like it goes deeper than that, and tortured Sam and soulless Sam's attempts to protect Sam from the truth feed into that to me.

[koolades-world]

Hello is hug deprived anon again (this might be becoming my name oh no) and I’ve had an idea

I’m sure we can all agree that mammon deserves all the love, especially because his brothers are too mean to him, they pretend they don’t love him too constantly

So, what if Mammon is away for a week, doing photoshoots or dealing with witches or something, and MC is moping because they miss him,, like, they keep turning to their side to whisper to him and then like deflating when they see no Mammon,, and like, reaching out on that side to hold his hand and then being confused when there’s nothing there, and then they realize :( maybe they stole his blanket from his room because it smells like him, so it’s the best substitute for Mammon hugs while he’s away

Maybe Beel (idk if any of the other bros would be nice enough to tell him) is texting him like “your human is too sad come back soon” and sending him pictures of MC doing this stuff

When Mammon returns MC jumps on him for hugs like “you’re home!!!!!”

Idk I think he’d cry

I think he would feel very loved and probably also cry abt it

What you think? What do you think he’d do?

(If you choose not to write anything about this no worries obviously) (but I eventually might lol I think it’d be very cute and make him very happy to have someone who really misses him when he’s away)

HI!! haha if you want and plan to request more, feel free to pick an anon name! or I could just call you something like hug LOL

wayyy back when I first got into obey me in like 2021, there was this one specific fic I read kind of similar to his idea where mammon was upset at be mistreated and mc stood up for him and it was this cute bonding moment, and this request kinda reminded me of that!! gonna try to channel it a little bit

this idea is literally so cute and I'd be happy to write it! it makes my brain like a cat who has the zoomies hehe enjoy :D

How Ironic

You watched agonizingly as the clock ticked by even slower than usual. You'd been trying to do some sort of work, or anything other than stare at the damned clock forever now, but you just couldn't focus.

It had been exactly four days, six hours, and fifteen minutes and counting since Mammon had left for a week long promotional photoshoot in another ring of hell. You had your sad, but sweet send off and you promise yourself that time apart might be good for you. After all, it always felt like you could never get anything done with Mammon around. Yet, here you were, staring blankly at a clock with a blank piece of paper and pen in front of you.

Finally deciding to throw in the towel for now, you got up from your desk in your room. A walk to a local convivence store was in order. Snacks and fresh air wasn't a combo you could pass up. On your way out, you passed the door to his room which was slightly ajar. You briefly had the thought to poke your head in and ask him if he wanted to come, before remembering that he wouldn't be in there. You continued your walk to the front door, where you put on your shoes and grabbed a bag that had a few necessities in it for the short journey.

Thankfully, you hadn't passed any of his brothers on the way there, meaning you didn't have to explain yourself or have them ask to tag along. While you enjoyed their company, they weren't Mammon. If you needed help, you could always summon one of them thanks to the pacts, but you needed this short walk to clear your head.

The air was unfortunately stifling and overly humid outside, making you glad you were dressed light. It was basically just your pajamas but when you went out with Mammon, the two of you did this every time. As you autopiloted to your favorite corner store, your thoughts wandered back to Mammon again. You wondered how he was doing and if he missed being at home. You couldn't blame him if he didn't and hoped he was enjoying his time away from home as much as you wished he was by your side.

Once you got to the store, you wandered around for a bit, debating what to get. After grabbing a small basket, you began to pile in various things that sounded good. Once the basket was full, you came to the realization that all the snacks were Mammon's favorites; hell sauce flavored instant noodles, Chaos Devil Cider and ginger ale to mix, Devilbee honey popcorn, and a variety pack of Devildom gummies. This is what he introduced you to the first time you did a snack run together. You decided, in light of this discovery, to buy extras for him for when he got back. You figured he would enjoy it and it was the least you could do to thank him for introducing you to so many tasty things you would've not tried otherwise. Once you checked out, you returned back to the House of Lamentation with a new skip in your step.

You made your way back up to your room, and passed the ajar door of Mammon's room again. Memories of the two of you together flooded back again, and you couldn't help but step in. Just being in his room was like he was really right next to you again. You couldn't help but sit on his sofa and think about how much you missed him even though it hadn't even been a full week. His absence made you realize how much you missed his presence. After a moment, you decide to leave the snacks you bought for him on his bedside table so his brothers were less likely to wander in and find them before him.

As you were setting down everything you'd gotten for him, you something caught your eye just about to fall off the end of his bed. After you picked it off the edge of his bed, you realized it was the hoodie he always wore around the house. It was faded from lots of usage and the strings were fraying. You knew it smelt like his cologne and his shampoo from all of the tight embraces he'd given you while wearing it. You for sure thought he would've taken it with him, but it looked as if he had thrown it off last minute and thrown it on his bed without looking back.

Looking around as if someone might be watching (which could very well be the case since Lucifer was notoriously quiet), you pulled it to your chest and deeply inhaled. Of course, there was the chance that it was dirty, but you couldn't care less. It wasn't anything you hadn't seen of him before. Since there really wasn't anything stopping you, you took it back to your room with you. You weren't even really that cold, in all honesty. It was more of the idea that he was right next to you since it smelt just like him.

You continued your night like you had before you left, just with his hoodie on. You were magically much more productive wearing it and you managed to get several things done. Usually, you would be chatting with Mammon on the phone at about this time to talk about how your days were, but he was unfortunately busy with something work related. Instead, you decided to send him a sweet goodnight text and send a picture of your set up with the food and the show you've been watching one episode at a time. Not expecting a response before you called it a night, you turn your phone off and focused on eating and watching tv.

Beel wasn't sure what woke him up first: his stomach or Mammon blowing up his phone. Sitting up in his bed, he peered at his screen, squinting at it. He had at least twenty texts from his brother asking him to check on Mc for him after they hadn't responded to his texts. He wasn't sure if Mammon knew they were probably asleep or if he was just worrying for no reason. Either way, he decided to check on them for him anways. After his kitchen run, of course.

After letting Mammon know, he got out of bed and left his room. On his way to the kitchen, however, he ended up following the smell of cup noodles to Mc's room. There, he was able to complete both of his missions. He snapped a picture of Mc fast asleep with a couple half finished snacks, then took the snacks. Mission complete.

Mammon was only halfway through the only kind of dumb business dinner when he spammed Beel about Mc. He was more worried than he would admit to himself about them. He knew it was probably nothing and that they had fallen asleep, but Beel was usually awake at this time eating anyways. The food was nice and he was the star of the show, but the dinner was much too stifling for his taste. Most importantly, it was cutting into his precious time with Mc, something he looked forward to at the end of every day. He loved getting to hear their voice after being away from them for so long. He missed getting to see them in person, but getting to hear them was next best.

As he was poking at his food, he finally got the response he was waiting hand and foot on. Beel had responded with just an image at first, so he scrambled to open it. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was a picture of his beloved Mc fast asleep in their bed. You looked so peaceful but your face was barely visible because of the hood pulled up over your eyes. After squinting, he realized the hoodie you were wearing looked oddly familiar. He realized that that was his hoodie, the one he'd left on his bed when he was late the morning he left.

He could barely contain his excitement and it must had been evident on his face since those around him glanced at him, and then between each other a few times. He saved the photo to his phone, and texted Beel back a thanks. As everyone talked around him, he debating asking to leave the shoot early right then and there. If he left right now, he would be able to make it home before you woke up. While he entertained this thought for a while, eventually he decided to stick it out since there were only a few days left. As soon as he was allowed to leave, however, he would buy you something with the paycheck he'd be given. Something nice, maybe a gold bracelet that would remind you of him when you see it. He spent the rest of the night thinking, then dreaming about you. He could only hope you were doing the same. (you were <3)

After those final two and a half agonizing days and many texts later, it was finally time for Mammon to return home. For now, he decided to leave his car parked just outside the house, since he may or may not have been planning to take you out to dinner later that day. As soon as he walked in the door, one of his suitcases in tow, something, or rather someone, attacked him with a flying hug. At first, he was processing the situation as Mc began to squeal and squeeze him as tight as they could into a hug. He wasn't really sure where they had come from, but he knew who it was as soon as their arms were around him.

"MAMMON!" Mc swung the both of them around, buzzing with excitement. "Diavolo, I missed you so much. I don't want to let go of you. If you don't take me with you next time, I might die of sadness and loneliness!" Their arms were around his neck, and their face in his chest. He finally let go of his suitcase and hugged them back. He held them close, shutting his eyes for a moment to take it all in.

"I missed ya too. 's good to be back." He, again, couldn't stop the smile from growing on his face. His brothers never expressed themselves the way Mc was to him in that moment, so he wasn't quite sure how to feel. They never seemed excited to see him, so it was so refreshing to see Mc visibly excited and made him feel truly loved. All their time apart was worth moments like these.

As MC was squealing, a few of his brothers began to gather around the foyer around them. Perhaps they heard them, or maybe they knew he'd be back today at around this time. Either way, he waved at them, still keeping an arm around Mc.

"Guys! Mammon is back." Mc nuzzled his neck, still holding onto him.

"We can see that." Belphie remarked, sounding unamused. Mammon's smile faded a little. So, they didn't care that he was back, did they? He should've expected that from them. Actually, they probably wished he'd been gone for longer with the way they treated him sometimes.

"I talked to you guys about this. I don't expect you to do what I'm doing, but you need to show him you're happy he's back. You can't lie, he's irreplaceable! I don't know what I'd do without him, and I missed him so much." Just like that, Mc's words lifted him back up. Suddenly, he was no longer upset that his brothers didn't care. He had the attention and care from the person he thought about the entire time he was gone. "Shame on you all. Don't expect me to talk to you for the next few days. Let's get your things from the car, and go upstairs. We have so much to catch up on!" Mc only let go of his neck to grab his hand instead. They dragged him back out of the house, shutting the door with their foot behind the two of them.

"Mc, ya didn't have to do all that fer me..." Mammon glanced back at the shut door. His brothers didn't open it, or try to follow them.

"But I did! You're my first man, after all. I really can't express how much I missed you and just saying it doesn't feel like enough." They reached into the trunk of his car to begin taking out his suitcases. Mammon moved them aside gently, not wanting them to do even more for him that he felt as if he didn't deserve.

Mammon was silent for a moment, then decided to go digging through his backpack for the bracelet he'd bought for you. He hoped it would make it easier to tell you how he felt. "Here, this is fer you." He presented the small, black box to them. Looking caught off guard, they accepted it and opened it carefully. Your mouth dropped open as you saw the golden piece of jewelry he bought for you on the drive back.

"Mammon! This is beautiful. Thank you so much! But, I don't understand why. What's the occasion?" You removed it from the box and held it up to the light to study it. Several small charms hung off of it.

"That's the thing. There isn't one." He took a deep breath and looked down at his feet before continuing. "I just... yer so good to me. Ya texted me daily, called me daily, thought about me while I was gone, and even waited fer me like that so ya could surprise me when I got back. Ya care, and I know I'm not the best with showin' I care and it makes me feel shitty. Thank you, fer everythin'. I really missed ya." He couldn't see how Mc reacted, but was essentially tackled into another hug again by them.

"Mams, you show me you care in little ways. Just because you don't say it, doesn't mean that you don't. You just being back here with me is more than enough." He immediately thought about how ironic the entire situation was. He never actually told them how he felt and treated them like garbage sometimes, and he thought it might've been pushing the person he cared for most away, but really, he never had to worry about that. he'd never considered that they could see past his inability to admit his feelings. He hugged them back, savoring the moment since this time they were alone.

"Thank you Mc." He held back happy tears.

"No, thank you! Thank you for always being by my side. Now, instead of actually unpacking, let's just lock the car and sneak back inside. Maybe they'll eventually feel sorry and come looking for us, but we'll actually be hiding right under their noses. It'll be like a spy mission." Mc giggled leaning back to see his face. Mammon let them look him in the eyes, glistening tears and all.

"Yeah, let's do that. We can watch that movie ya wanted to watch and just share headphones." He found himself joining in with the quiet laughing along to something he wasn't sure either of them really understood. Something he did understand however, was that he knew he was loved back by the one he loved the most, and couldn't ask for more.

[hippolotamus]

Way More Than Seven Sentence Sunday

Tagged by the lovely and talented @kitteneddiediaz @tizniz @diazsdimples @spotsandsocks @inell @wikiangela Be sure to check their works!

IDK this has been rolling around in my brain since I first heard Casual. Sooo… 🦴 🍎 🦷

“C’mon, Luce,” Nat teases from the driver’s seat, poking Lucy’s thigh. “I play personal taxi and can’t even get a tour? Guess I need to up my game.”

Lucy rolls her eyes. Hopefully it’s more annoyed than fond. Honestly, Natalia could ask for a million things and Lucy would readily give them. At least, she wants to. She wants to want to. But that involves levels of vulnerability Lucy plans to keep locked up tighter than Diaz’s Catholic guilt.

“Your game’s fine, Dollenmeyer. I’ll show you around.” Lucy grabs her work bag and exits the car before Nat can gloat and kiss her about it.

Kinard and Thompson are chatting over coffee in the hangar, while Lee checks over the equipment in one of the birds.

“Well, if it isn’t my little ray of sunshine,” Kinard chirps, flashing his stupid, dazzling lovesick smile. God, Buckley’s got him so whipped. She’s happy for them but Jesus Christ. “And who do we have here?”

Tommy, ever the gentleman and charmer, takes Nat’s offered hand. “Tommy Kinard. One of Lucy’s favorite teammates,” he says with a wink.

“Oh, yeah, I’ve heard about you!”

“This is Nat. Natalia,” Lucy interjects. “We were hanging out and she very nicely agreed to drop me off since my car’s in the shop.”

Beside her, Nat stiffens. Tommy raises an eyebrow, shooting a knowing look at Lucy.

This. This is why she tried to resist Nat’s offer and insisted an Uber would be fine. Because Lucy knows she’s fucked up. Knew she would before it happened. What’s worse is Tommy knows — or highly suspects — she fucked up. He was in the closet too long, and with too many shitty partners, to not see right through her. He’s going to give her hell about this.

“Uh, yeah,” Nat agrees, barely hiding the way her voice is trembling. She drops Tommy’s hand and clutches her purse tighter. “So, uh, gonna take a raincheck on that tour. Maybe another time. Nice to meet you.”

Nat doesn’t run back to the car but she may as well. She doesn’t look at Lucy once. Not with anger or sadness or disappointment. Not at all. Lucy bites the inside of her cheek and watches her go despite the desperate clawing thing in her chest that wants Nat to stay. Now. Forever maybe.

She hikes her bag up on her shoulder, turning to walk toward the locker room, only to be met with Tommy still there. His arms are crossed and he doesn’t look at her with any judgement. It would be better than the almost pitying, understanding expression he’s wearing.

“What, Kinard?” She bites out, staring past him. “I have to change for my shift. Just- say it already.”

He watches her a moment longer, rolling his lips in, assessing. “Do I even have to?”

“I have to change for my shift,” she says again, biting her bottom lip, hard. Because she’s not going to get upset about this now. Just like she’s not going to think about waking up this morning, for the very first time, to Nat sleeping beside her, hair sprawled across the pillow while sunlight painted her bare back. How it made Lucy ache.

Tommy sidesteps, making a sweeping gesture to let her know she’s free to go anytime. She nods tightly, unable to meet his gaze as she passes.

“Y’know, I kinda wanted to hate her,” Tommy starts. Because he’s a bastard that way. She hates him. Hates him so fucking much for it that she loves him for being so goddamn forgiving and thought provoking. She swears he went to the Bobby Nash School of Life Advice and Mentoring.

She stops, but doesn’t turn around.

“Evan said nice things about her. Decent things anyway. Admittedly, I wasn’t crazy about why she was into him. But he didn’t have anything terrible. Being his first- I felt a little nervous and wanted to find something. Anything about the people in his past. You know how it can be with exes. Gets messy sometimes.” He pauses, probably sipping his lukewarm coffee. “And then they just- I don’t know, surprise the hell out of you in an unexpected way.” Another pause. “Don’t worry. I won’t hold you up anymore.”

His footsteps echo across the hangar, growing quieter. Lucy tightens her death grip on her bag and marches to the locker room. When she gets there, if she turns on the showers so she can cry in peace, that’s between her and the ancient tile and god.

np tagging @actuallyitsellie @diazheartsbuckley @weewootruck @saybiwithme @bidisasterevankinard @dangerpronebuddie @theotherbuckley @stereopticons @daffi-990 @your-catfish-friend @thekristen999 @filet-o-feelings @underwaterninja13 @rainbow-nerdss @steadfastsaturnsrings @honestlydarkprincess @exhuastedpigeon @jesuisici33 @dr-shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @dorkydiaz @bi-buckrights @elvensorceress @bucksbiawakening @giddyupbuck @beyourownanchor6 @lemonzestywrites @monsterrae1 @statueinthestone @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @the-likesofus @thewolvesof1998 @watchyourbuck @shipperqueen6 and anyone else who wants to 😘

[plush-rabbit]

Word Count: 3.5K A/N: No name again!! Part Three this time. Woo! Um, I just miss writing. I have some request that I wanna do, and like honestly, i need to make time. And I'm slowly making time! So, one day. I wanna write an Adam chapter, but like idk. Like I could. I'm the writer, but like also, I wanna do this other one, and like i thought it was gonna be super quick, but ya know me. I like words and sounding deep. So who knows. It gets like updated whenever its slow at work, so one day.

-

You pace around the room that you occupy. It doesn’t feel like home. You’re afraid nothing will ever feel like home again. You look at yourself in the mirror, and trace your tongue over your sharpened teeth, and you can’t recall the change to them- whether they grew into fangs during your fall, or when you were in your unconscious state. 

“‘S probably why my jaw hurt so much,” you mumble to yourself.

Despite not showing much interest in most things, Lucifer has brought it upon himself to make your room as comfortable as possible. He’s brought candles, and pillows to add color. He’s brought you different types of creams and perfumes for you to try, telling you to let him know what scent you like best. The shower adjacent to your room is kept clean, and stocked full of sweet smelling soaps. Your closet is full of clothes, so soft that you played with the fabric between your fingers until you feared you’d ruin them with your nails.

While your back no longer aches like it once did, you still avoid looking at it. The morbid curiosity to touch it grows every second, but you can only let your fingers ghost against the edges of the scars, feeling the pulled skin against yours, chills making your body rise. You feel bile in your throat when you touch a scar that runs thin and farther down your back- skin that stayed stuck and only released when it was far too thin and weak to hold on any longer. 

It’s sensitive, and almost ticklish. The tags of shirts make you uncomfortable, and you gently pat yourself dry after showers. You stare at the fogged mirror after every shower, and you have yet to wipe it clean and turn around to see what you’ve lost.

Lucifer has assured you that it’s not nearly as rough as it once was. Perhaps he’s right about that. Yet, you hate that he knows what you’re going through. You hate that you can’t be angry at him, that you can’t throw a fit and tell him that he doesn’t understand. But he does. He’s one of the few that will understand what you’re feeling, and you can’t bring yourself to talk to him.

There’s a knock on your door, and you look away from the mirror. “Come in,” you say out loud, already knowing who is on the other side- speak of the devil, and he shall appear. You give a small smile as Lucifer walks in with a tray of food, taking careful steps to not let the drinks topple over. 

“I brought dinner,” he says with a smile. 

You sit on the bed, legs crossed and watch as he places the tray over your lap. “Thank you, Lucifer,” you say. There are two plates, two sets of cutlery, and two drinks. Once again, he’ll be having dinner with you in the confines of your room. 

Lucifer takes his place in the chair beside you, and with a wave holds the plate in his hand, carefully balancing it as he holds the silvered fork in the other hand. Your fingers wrap over the silver, as you poke and prod at the food. 

“I hope you like it,” he says. “It’s been a while since I cooked anything, so I’m hoping it’s good for you.”

You pierce the food with the prongs of the fork. “I didn’t know you cooked,” you mumble, before taking a bite of your meal. The taste is savory, melting on your tongue, and you cut another piece before even swallowing the first one.

“It’s been a while.” Silver clinks against porcelain in a melody, behind his words. “It’s been ages since I’ve had proper meals.” You catch his eye, and he clears his throat. “Running Hell is a bit of a task. Hardly ever lets me enjoy my peace,” he says quietly, nudging his food with the sharpened point of the fork. 

“I can’t imagine the type of work it takes to run it all,” you reply, wrapping your lips around another forkful of food. 

Lucifer hums in response, and you take a sip of your drink. He hardly ever talks about Hell in detail. He’ll focus the conversation on you, trying to pry out your interests and likes. At times, he’ll talk about his daughter, Charlie. He tells you how she’s off somewhere in the Pride Ring, about how she was when she was young, how he would have her sit on his lap and watch as he’d tinker in his office. The stories are always in past tense, and you never like hearing the sorrow that are entangled in his words. Not only that, there’s a lack of mention of his wife, despite the ring that he still wears. 

The conversation comes to a still, and you frown. 

Dinners in Heaven were hardly ever quiet. There’d always be some type of noise, some gentle hum of a song, laughter, talk about slaughter that made you queasy. You’d eat with Adam most nights. Some nights you were accompanied by Lute and you always welcomed those shared meals, where she’d sit beside you, her wings folded neatly behind her, compared to Adam’s prodigious wings which graced the floor. She’d remove her mask when dining, and would grace you with a gentle smile. 

Home was the only place you’d ever see Adam without his mask. The horns curved and the bright lights a warning against others, looking down on others with heavenly light. He’d wear his mask in public, it was loud and showed who he was. Newer souls always looked at him with awe, and he hungered for the way that they would trip over themselves to speak to him. They may not have known his title, but they knew he was important, they felt the power that he held, the authority that he carried. He was someone to be admired. He was someone that you wanted to be around with. 

Even though you were just an angel, you didn’t hold power that others didn’t already have. But Adam still chose you, and you chose him. 

You should have chosen to run away when you had the chance.

The food tastes bitter, and you drop the fork, the clinking making your flinch and turn your head. Your name is whispered, and a hand places itself over your arm. Your eyes are shut tight, and you feel like a fool. “Are you all right?” Lucifer asks in a soft voice.

You suck in your lip, teasing it between your teeth. “No, I’m sorry, Lucifer.” You shake your head and blink back the tears that threaten to spill over. Turning to him, you wipe at your eyes with the back of your hand. “I’m fine, I’m sorry. I was-” your voice wavers, and you cover your eyes with your hand- “remembering Heaven. I remembered how my meals-” tears drip down, and you wave your hand. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to cry.”

With a wave of his hand, the tray of food, and his own plate disappears from your sight. It’s quiet for a moment, and he pushes his seat closer to your bed before breaking the silence. “Do you think of Heaven often?” Shamefully, you nod. “What do you miss?” 

Adam. You peek at him between your fingers, and when he hands you a tissue, you take it wordlessly. “The view,” you answer. The tissue dabs at your eyes, and you let your hands fall beside you. Fingertips nudge against your hand, a silent encouragement to continue to speak. Your fingers jump, and there’s a sudden urge to take his hand in comfort. Rather, you let your nails scrap against the bedsheets.

“When I was still-” Lucifer’s voice pauses to take a breath- “I would sneak off to this forest. I’d watch all of his creations frolic among the fields. I’d have a few of my own creations rest against me. It was serene.”

You stretch your legs, and pull the blanket over your lower half. “I was a lower rank angel,” you start. “No one hardly needed me unless they wanted me to fetch something. But there was-” you bit your bottom lip and flicker your eyes towards Lucifer who listens with his attention on you- “an angel who would take me to see the stars.” You smile softly, and rub the corner of the tissue between your index and thumb. “It was a vast space, where the sky was lit by the radiance of the stars. It was the first time anyone thought of doing something for me,” you say out loud. 

“You were an angel, were you not?” Lucifer asks, his body leaning towards you, a hand wrapping around your wrist, and you let him take your wrist.

“Just an angel, nothing more. I don’t even know why he was so nice to me.” You smile at him, but you look away, smiling at the end of the bed. “I still don’t get it.” He was praised for so much, given everything and perhaps that’s what made his ego bigger than what it needed to be. “But he was kind to me.”

“Another angel?” He sounds surprised. You wonder what angels were like back in his days.

“A higher ranking than I,” you shrug with your answer. There’s a reason why he was able to get away with so much.

“For all that Heaven was, the views were ethereal.” You hum in response. It’s silent, and his shoes tap against the floor. “I’m sorry that Hell doesn’t have views like those.” His thumb arches over your wrist, and you dig your nails into your palm.

You stay silent beside him. Heaven’s land and warmth, nothing but a memory for you to return to. The room smells of rosemary and wine, and your blankets are thick in the stench of it. You turn to him. “Lucifer, why don’t we eat at the table?”

He stiffens at your voice, his mouth opening and closing without an answer. “I didn’t know you wanted to,” he replies.

“I’m stuck in this room all day, I want-” more is what you want, more than the four walls of your bedroom- “I want to see the other rooms. I’m not like I was before. I can move now.”

His eyes scan over your body, and with a nod, he clears his throat. “Okay,” he nods once more. “Breakfast will be in the dining room. I’ll be here to walk you at the usual time that I arrive.”

“Thank you, Lucifer,” you say kindly, a smile ghosting over your lips.

“You’re welcome,” he says your name softly, twisting meaning into the syllables and letting it fill the air.

-

Your room is shrouded in darkness, vast and consuming. Perhaps it’s because you’ve spent so much time awake in the night, that you can recognize what’s beside you, or maybe it’s your vision, heavenly eyes now able to see in the night, almost as if it were day. You aren’t sure which option brings you more comfort- that you’ve spent so long in a place that you should call home, or that parts of your angelic nature have contorted into something else.

Sleep has yet to take you into its arms. You lay awake, unable to do much else, hoping that if you’re still long enough then maybe you rest. However, you do nothing all day but read and draw in a book Lucifer had given you. The television remains in an opened box, pressed against a wall. He had attempted to attach it to the wall, but grew frustrated when he could not figure out the wiring. When you offered that he call someone who could, he just placed everything back in the box grumbling under his breath.

His pride is the reason you still rely on books and his company for entertainment. 

The scars on your back are no longer tender as they once were. They’re soft, and ticklish. You squirm against the cotton of the bed and feel a chill pass when you think of them for too long. Your arms coil themselves around you, fingertips tracing over the scarring lines. You wipe your hands on the comforter, filth still etched into you.

Your legs kick the bed, and you find yourself unable to sleep. If it were Heaven, you’d have Adam beside you. It would be hours until he finally rested, staying up until dawn peeked through the blinds in gold. He’d keep you company. Even if he was tired, he’d grumble and whine, but would continue to hold a conversation with you until he could no longer. 

Truth be told, it was rare for you to struggle to fall asleep. You had no trouble resting your weary head, but when you did, you at least had Adam with you. 

As much as other angels complained about not being given bigger tasks, you hardly minded them. You had no real power over anyone, no real responsibilities. The only real duty that you were given, was to calm Adam when he became crass- at least more so than usual. Heaven was blissful, the only worry being whether Adam would call you a crass nickname in public.

He hardly listened to anyone. He might have quieted down when a Seraphim or even Lute would give him a look, but when it came to you, he would mumble under his breath, still simmering, but at least he'd hold your hand. A chill runs through your body. In quiet moments, you can feel the weight of his wings over you, the heaviness, the softness of his feathers, how they would cover you like a blanket. 

Moments with him were plenty, never did you ever have to miss him unless he was called out. The few times you both were separated, he was bitter- snapping and complaining to anyone who was unfortunate to speak to him. and you felt pride at being the one that he wanted, being the one who could calm him. All these weeks- conscious and unconscious- is the first you’ve ever spent without him- without knowing that you would see him again. You wonder what he’s doing. The thought hurts, a sharp pain in your chest that makes it difficult to breathe. 

You wonder if he’s upset with Lute. A part of you wants him to be, to know that he did care for you, enough to be upset at another for hurting you. And the other part, hopes that he isn’t. You hope that he understood that it was a task given to her, that he doesn’t hold it against her. You hope that she doesn’t hold it against herself. You close your eyes, and your hands scratch against the comforter. 

You need to think of something else.

There has to be something else that you can think of. Something that doesn’t have to do with him. Anything at all would work. 

Mornings. 

How the sunlight would cast gold in the room, peeking between the blinds and making his wings shimmer. The warmth of the light would only encourage you to dig deeper into bed, pulling yourself closer to him. Your wings would brush under his, and they were never as grand as his were. Where yours were iridescent, and fit to your body perfectly, his shined in gold, carved by Father and molded to be fitting of the first soul to ascend to Heaven. 

You cry, and a sob escapes, whimpering past your lips. You need another distraction. 

Your wings. 

Think of how your wings were ripped from you. How Lute was the one to perform the severance and how Adam was adamant to watch. How he wanted to be there for you. You think of how you’ll never have your wings again. You’ll never fly again. There will  always be a scar to serve as a reminder of what was taken. And despite not having them, you can still feel them. You feel their weight, and in the mornings, you can feel a ghost of an ache, as if you’d slept on them wrong.

You sob, crying like a child and you press yourself against a pillow, trying to dull the cries. You can’t recall ever being so teary-eyed, so sad and lonely. Even after your creation, you were greeted with love and open arms, and past the time when you were simply an angel, you at least had Adam and Lute to keep you company.

Crying seems like a foreign concept. You never cried much in Heaven. Not out of sadness, at least. You hadn’t realized how exhausting it was to cry. You heave, whimpering and clawing at the bed sheets. Your chest is tight, bones constricting themselves around everything delicate, gold burning inside of you. When you laid in bed with Adam and spoke of your fate, and even when your wings were removed, you hadn’t cried like this. You shed tears, and you begged for forgiveness under your breath, but you accepted it until you cast out. Some nights, you wake up and you think it’s all been some horrid dream, only to be reminded when you wake to a ceiling that is not yours. 

Your door swings open, the back of it smacking against the wall.

“What’s wrong?” Lucifer asks, his voice tense. His presence serves as a reminder of where you are, and where you can never return to. “Are you okay?” He’s inside your room, and the door closes with a smack the further he goes. 

You are unable to answer him through your cries, mumbling incoherently. A hand places itself over your arm, and flutters away when you flinch. He sighs your name, and the side of your bed dips under his weight. “Do you want to be alone?”

You hiccup, and after a pause, you shake your head.

“Is it okay to touch you?

You nod, and turn over. Your hands grasp and pull at his clothes, you make a note that he hasn't changed out of his daytime attire, and that his eyes sag with exhaustion. Despite it all, you need him here. You want him here. His hand cups overs, and he lets his thumb arch over the back of your hand. Lucifer shifts under your touch, unable to be comfortable in your bed. Your nails scratch against the fabric of his clothes, fisting the shirt in your hand, and you need him to stay. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, another one of his hands cupping over the corner of your head, gently stroking you. “Just cry it out,” he whispers.

You cry beside him, the touch of his clothes barely enough to keep you satisfied. Your face is barely hidden between the pillow and the mattress. You weep, unable to catch a breath, unable to think of anything more than just missing home. 

“I hate crying,” you mumble, hiccupping and hiding your face.

“Yeah,” he breathes out, tracing shapes over your forearm, “you get used to it.” Your body still shakes, whimpers and other pathetic sounds filling the room. “I- Um, I remember that angels were rather touchy- always together in flocks, and never really alone, so I-” he clears his throat, and you peek up at him through teary eyes. “I hope I’m not overstepping, but do you want a-” His face deepens in color, and he squeezes your arm, unable to manage the word out loud. “Or I can get you a pillow or something?”

Your hands let go of him, and the push against the mattress. “Lucifer?” You say softly, picking yourself up. He hums in response, his eyes wide and focused on you. “Can you hold me?” You gasp, your chest tight. 

“Yes- Yeah,” he croaks. “Of course. Whatever you need- Oh!” He gasps, when you cling to him, your arms snaking around him, pulling at the fabric of his clothes. You hide yourself in the crook soft curve where his neck and shoulder meet, your dewy face kissing his exposed skin. “It’s-” you can feel his hands pat nervously at your back- “okay.” You pull him closer to you, desperate to not have him leave you. “You’re-” at the sound of another of your cries, his arms tightening around your shaking figure, hands pressed into the soft of your skin- “You’re okay. I got you, you’re safe,” he coos. 

He’s warm, and he holds you close to him, his head knocking gently against yours. Your cries soften into whimpers, gasping breaths tickling over his skin. In a room where the glow of red peeks into the room, letting glass and skin flame under a dim hue, you find yourself reminded of home. You find comfort in someone holding you, you find yourself held together by sin, stitched and handled with care. Hands are gentle against your back, the pressure against the scars enough to make you crave for more, to have him touch more of you. You let your eyes close, and you tell yourself that you’ll ask him to leave, but you need a few minutes where you can feel safe, where you can feel wanted.

[gotham--fc]

Sleeping With the Enemy - A Marie-Philip Poulin Imagine

Requested by @simp4panos (sorry idk why the tag isn't working): R is Hilary's younger sister and dating MPP and Hilary isn't happy when she finds out and tries to fight MPP on the ice but MPP won't because she knows it's R's sister

This is neither of the fics I’ve been working on because I’m physically incapable of finishing what I started so I decided to start and finish something completely new so sorry to those waiting on another Hilary fic I’m fighting a war against my own brain rn

I don't speak french so I googled translated stuff so I hope it's not too bad, I also tried to look up like specific Quebecois phrases and things so hopefully the quebecois who see this don't hate me for it

When Hilary enters her little sister’s apartment, she expected a lot of things. She expected to be tackled with a hug. She expected to have silly string sprayed in her face. Hell, she half expected her sister to be sleeping, having forgotten Hilary was coming.

She didn’t expect to see her sister wearing a BU sweater with Poulin stitched across the back. Or Marie-Philp Poulin in her sister’s kitchen. Or Marie-Philip Poulin kissing her sister.

“What the hell?!”

“Hil!” Y/N snaps around.

“Hilary, que faites-vous ici?”

When Hilary signed with Boston, she knew it wasn’t a guarantee that Y/N would get drafted by them too. She thought there was a good chance. After all, who didn’t want both Knight sisters on their team? They were an unbelievable pair, their chemistry on the ice coming naturally after growing up playing hockey together. They went to Wisconsin together, albeit, different years, but they’ve been on teams together both national and not for their whole lives.

It didn’t pan out, and it was disappointing, but not the end of the world. Y/N ended up in Montreal, and Hilary was kind of exciting to play out the Boston-Montreal rivalry with her sister.

Hilary came up to Montreal to help Y/N unpack and get settled. They got to explore Montreal a bit together before Hilary had to head back to Boston. Before Hilary left, Y/N gave her a key to her place, for whenever she was in the city. That was the way things were with them, they had keys to each other places and an open invitation to come over and stay whenever. Hilary is staying at the team hotel technically, but everyone knows she’s going to spend most of her time that she’s not with her team with Y/N.

Which is why she’s here. She dropped her stuff off at the hotel and grabbed an overnight bag to come stay at Y/N’s. They play later tonight, so Hilary is going to drop her bag off and spend some time with Y/N before they’re both required at the rink and then head back with Y/N after the game. And now she’s face to face with Marie fucking Philip Poulin.

“What the fuck is this? What the fuck is going on?”

“Hil, I thought… I thought you weren’t getting in until later,” Y/N says.

Hilary looks between Y/N and Poulin. Y/N looks shocked, nervous almost. Poulin looks fucking guilty.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing with my sister?” Hilary says. She focuses all her energy on Poulin. “What the fuck are you doing here? Get the fuck out, stay away from my sister.”

“Hilary,” Y/N says, a hint of desperation in her voice, “I wanted to tell you, I swear I was going to, I just… Let’s talk about this.”

“Je devrais partir,” Poulin says quietly, “Tu devrais parler à ta sœur seule.”

“What?” Y/N turns to Poulin and touches her arm. It takes everything in Hilary not to storm over there and put herself in between Poulin and her sister. “No. It’s alright, it’s alright, you don’t have to go.”

Hilary didn’t even know her sister knew French.

“J'aggrave les choses,” Poulin says, “Je te verrai ce soir. À bientôt, ma petite blonde.”

Poulin leaves without a word to Hilary. Hilary’s stare follows her out the door, then stays staring at the closed door Poulin just left out of.

“Please don’t be mad,” Y/N says, “I was going to tell you, I just… I didn’t want to tell you over the phone.”

“What are you doing?” Hilary turns to face Y/N. “Are you crazy? You could date anyone and you pick her?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“God, Y/N,” Hilary rubs her temples, her frustration growing steadily since she walked in the room, “Captain Canada. Unbelievable,” Hilary scoffs, “Is this why you’re in Montreal? Did your girlfriend pull some strings and get you drafted here? You’d rather play here with her than in Boston right? It’s not enough for you to play for my rival team you have to sleep with them too?”

“Hilary!” Y/N cries, “It’s not like that!”

“Whatever,” Hilary shoulders her bag and heads for the door, “I’m not doing this.”

Hilary leaves, ignoring Y/N’s yells after her. Hilary heads back to the hotel, to the dismay of her roommate, Hannah Brandt, who thought she had the room to herself for the night. Hilary throws her bag on the ground and throws herself onto the closest bed.

“You good?” Brandt asks. Hilary huffs in response. “You get in a fight with her or something? I thought I wasn’t going to see you until game time.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Hilary snaps. A beat. And then: “I walked in on her and Poulin. I can’t fucking believe it! Why couldn’t she pick anyone else? Why does it have to be fucking Poulin? It’s bad enough she’s fucking here when she should be in Boston, but now I find out she’s bedding the Canadian team behind my back! And who does Poulin think she is? She thinks she can just… just… date my sister? She’s Canada’s fucking captain, she fucking embarrasses us at every tournament, isn’t that enough for her?”

“I thought we weren’t talking about it,” Brandt says, “But seriously Knight, what’s wrong with Poulin? Sure she’s Canadian, but she’s not evil. And don’t you want your sister to be happy?”

“Not with her!”

“I don’t know what to say Hil,” Brandt says, “You can skulk about it all you want but you better be ready to play tonight.”

***

During warmups, Hilary can sense Y/N’s eyes on her. Y/N has been trying to get her attention ever since Hilary got to the rink and Hilary won’t give it to her. Hilary’s pissed. She’s not going to let it go that easy. Everyone can tell she’s in a mood. She’s whipping shots at Frankel, jabbing her stick at teammates in 2-on-1s. They give her a wide berth in the locker room and Hilary knows it’s not how she should act as a captain, but she doesn’t care and honestly, if she has a fire game because she’s pissed then that’s all that matters.

The game starts and Hilary zones in on Poulin. She doesn’t give her an inch of space or time. Every time Poulin is on the ice, Hilary is too. She watches Poulin jump on the ice and she screams at her teammates to change so she can get on. She presses Poulin up against the boards, she bodies her out of the faceoff circle, even though Poulin wins most of the draws. It all comes to a head when Poulin goes in for a shot and Frankel stops it and Poulin jabs at her to try and knock the puck loose.

Hilary doesn’t think. She has no idea what she’s going to do until she’s on Poulin and she’s grabbing her by the neck and pulling her back. Poulin wrests herself loose and Hilary keeps going. She charges at Poulin, shoves her, gets up in her face, and if the refs weren’t there to pull her back, Hilary thinks she might’ve actually thrown a punch. Poulin skates towards her as the refs pull her back and Hilary tries to reach over the refs to get her, until she realizes Poulin isn’t going for her. Poulin is pushing her own teammates back, putting herself in between them and Hilary.

She’s protecting Hilary.

“Arrêt, arrêt,” Hilary can hear Poulin saying. Hilary knows enough French to know what that means. The refs pull her away and towards the penalty box. Hilary pulls her eyes away from Poulin and catches the heartbroken look on her sister’s face.

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you,” Y/N says, “You always do this.”

“Wait, Y/N,” Hilary tries to follow her, but the refs stop her.

“Let’s go Knight, any more of this and we’ll give you a game misconduct.”

Hilary watches from the penalty box as her sister and Poulin talk on the ice. She watches her teammates watch her. She watches two minutes of play go by before she’s let back on the ice. For the rest of the game, Hilary tries to behave. She stops going after Poulin. She wants to, but she knows her sister will never forgive her. She can’t get the way Y/N looked out of her head. The last thing Hilary wants to do is hurt her sister.

After the game, the players shake hands and normally Hilary and Y/N would hug, but Y/N just pats Hilary on the shoulder and keeps skating. Hilary skates off the ice and goes into the locker room. Boston won in OT and Hilary should be happy. She should be celebrating with her team, but she’s not feeling it. She changes out of her gear and leaves the locker room without showering. She’ll go back and shower but she needs a minute away from everyone’s cheers.

“Knight.”

Hilary wants to groan. Fucking Poulin.

“Your sister is very mad at you right now,” Poulin says.

“Gee thanks,” Hilary says, “Didn’t pick up on that.”

“She is mad because you fought me on the ice. She’s not very happy with me right now either.”

“You didn’t do anything,” Hilary mutters, “It was all me.”

“Oui, she knows this too. She wants us to get along and we’re not and it’s making her upset.”

“Why can’t you just be a bitch?” Hilary asks, “It’s a lot easier to hate you when you’re not being so nice to me.”

“Why do you want to hate me? Because I am dating your sister?”

“She didn’t even tell me!” Hilary snaps, “I thought we were closer than that. I thought she trusted me. I thought if anything was going on with her that she would tell me. I don’t even know what I did. I told her right away when things got serious with Britt. I tell her everything and I thought she did too. I don’t… Why didn’t she tell me?”

“You’re hurt that she kept it from you, non?”

“Yeah, whatever. How long has this been going on? Did you get her drafted here?”

“That was a, uh, how do you say, happy accident. We… We’ve been seeing each other since Worlds, but nothing very serious. She was in Minnesota and I was in Montreal and long distance is very hard. Things got a little more serious over the summer. Then the league was announced and things started moving and she did not want to start anything when we didn’t know where we would be playing or living. I did not ask for her to be drafted here, but she was and then we knew we were going to be in the same place and things got more serious. We’ve been officially dating since November. She wanted to tell you but she did not want to say it over the phone and she said it felt too soon to say anything over Christmas and to be honest you don’t handle news well.”

“Okay well how am I supposed to act when my little sister tells me she’s dating my enemy?”

Poulin laughs.

“We are not really enemies, you know that. I apologize for how you found out, and I hope you can forgive me for that. I love her, you understand, and I have not told her that, but you should know. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Do you really mean that?” Hilary asks, “You really love her?”

“I do.”

“Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?”

“Oui. Not a doubt in my mind. She loves you very much.”

“I think we should start this over again,” Hilary says. Poulin looks confused until Hilary holds out her hand. “Hi, I’m Hilary Knight, Y/N’s older, cooler, sister.” Poulin’s face lights up as she takes Hilary’s hand.

“Marie-Philip Poulin, Y/N’s girlfriend.”

“Can you tell her not to leave without me?” Hilary asks, “And maybe all three of us can grab dinner tonight? I… I want to get to know you, as my sister’s girlfriend, and not as someone I try to kill on the ice.”

“I would be very happy to.”

Hilary goes back into the locker room, showers, congratulates her team on the game and takes on the ‘Captain’ role she’s supposed to. She manages to convince Keller to bring her stuff to the hotel and take it up to her room. She waits outside the locker rooms for Y/N and Poulin. She hopes Y/N isn’t too mad. She hopes Y/N agrees to dinner and she hopes it won’t be awkward and stilted. Hilary watches Y/N approach.

When Y/N gets close enough she gives Hilary a good shove in the chest that makes Hilary stumble back a few steps.

“You’re a real ass, you know that?” Y/N says. Hilary doesn’t argue. “You’re buying,” Y/N says as she pokes her finger at Hilary’s chest where she just shoved.

“Seems fair to me,” Hilary says.

They head to a restaurant Hilary’s never heard of, but Y/N swears by, and the whole menu is in French and Hilary feels embarrassed to ask for an English one, so she tries to discreetly google translate the dishes. The waiter comes and Poulin speaks in rapid French to him and he returns with a bottle of wine. He pours them each a glass and Hilary takes a sip and realizes this dinner might cost her more than she bargained for. There’s no way this bottle is cheap.

He speaks in French again and Hilary has no idea what he says, and then Poulin says something and hands him her menu, then Y/N does the same, and he’s asking for her order, and Hilary has no idea what the menu says. When she hesitates, Poulin speaks to him again and then he takes her menu and leaves.

“Tell me she didn’t order me snails or something,” Hilary says to Y/N.

“You’re not in France Hilary,” Poulin says, “This is Montreal.”

“That doesn’t help,” Hilary turns back to Y/N, “You’re being mean, you know I can’t speak French.”

“She didn’t order snails,” Y/N says.

Hilary takes another sip of wine. Poulin says something to Y/N in French and if Hilary hasn’t been making an ass of herself all night she might’ve said something about it. Instead she stays quiet and hopes this isn’t how the rest of the night will go.

“Hil,” Y/N says. Hilary looks up and realizes Poulin isn’t at the table anymore. “Marie told me you guys talked, after the game. What the hell was that?”

“I…” Hilary feels herself flush with shame. “I shouldn’t have acted like that. I guess I just felt like… if you weren’t telling me about your life in Montreal, then maybe you didn’t need me to be your big sister anymore. And I convinced myself it was her fault so I took it out on her. It’s my fault. If I’ve done anything to drive you away–”

“I’ll always need my big sister,” Y/N says, “Yes, you can be annoying and overbearing and overprotective, but I love you. I didn’t tell you because when I first made the national team with you, you warned me not to get mixed up with the Canadians. And then I wasn’t going to tell you over the phone. And at Christmas, you were with Britt and I wasn’t ready to be open about it yet.”

“I thought you realized I was joking about the Canadian thing, given how many of us were shacking up with Canadians at that point.”

“I’m really happy here,” Y/N says, “I know you want me in Boston and I get that, but I’m really happy here. I love Montreal and the team and being with Marie is just… I can’t describe it.”

Y/N has a look on her face when she talks about Montreal. It’s the same one Hilary has when she talks about Boston. And the look Y/N has when she talks about Poulin, it’s the same one Hilary has when she talks about Britt.

“I’m happy for you,” Hilary says earnestly, “I’m really glad you found your place and your people.”

Poulin comes back and when Y/N catches her eye, she beams, and Hilary hides her smile behind her wine glass.

Hilary wanted to hate Poulin (–“You can call me Marie.” “I like Poulin better.” “Hilary!”–). She wanted to believe the Canadian could never be good enough for her sister. However, watching the two of them together, seeing how happy Y/N is, how happy Marie makes her, Hilary could never be mad at that.

***

French translations:

que faites-vous ici: What are you doing here

Je devrais partir: I should leave

Tu devrais parler à ta sœur seule: You should talk to your sister alone

J'aggrave les choses: I make things worse

Je te verrai ce soir: I’ll see you tonight

À bientôt, ma petite blonde: see you soon, my little girlfriend

Arrêt: stop

[anlian-aishang]

For the practice drabble thingie, Sweat/Scent kink? 👁️ 👁️

I just. k n o w. I have this headcanon that Levi always uses baby/scented powder to avoid sweating so much on expeditions/missions, but maybe one day he just runs out of it or rushes out of his room, so Levi gets flustered or self-conscious for the rest of the day or smth, idk I don’t think he would smell **that much**, but… still, he smells pretty masculine, yknow?👁️👁️

Tags: levi x reader [mutual pining], sfw [but fetish-based material], sweat & scent stuff, canonverse, gn!reader Word count: 2700 A/N: Holy hell, thank you, this is exactly what I wanted. nsfw sequel is in the works <3

It was his fucking day off. 

Levi was the most cautious when it came to anticipation. Sights no one should have to see had scarred him to the point of learning: if you never got your hopes up, nothing could let you down. That thought rained on most of his parades, but he supposed there was little letdown to be had when it came to the likewise little things. On returns from expeditions, he allowed himself to look forward to the removal of his heavy gear and tight belts. When the smell of fresh-baked bread wafted through the barracks, he let his tongue salivate and his stomach sing. Today would have been his first day off in - he couldn’t even remember - god knows how long. Last night, his stagnant stoicism seemed to float away, head in clouded daydream of how to make this day perfect.

But some days weren’t meant to be perfect.

Instead of birds chirping and the first rays of sunlight that Levi anticipated, it was a series of harsh knocks at the hour of indigo sky that woke him up. Levi startled out of sleep, snapping up with a breathless gasp.  

In hindsight, maybe he should’ve said nothing, maybe then they would’ve left him alone. However, being woken suddenly, though a common occurrence, almost always meant disaster in the Scouts. His voice cracked a barely audible “W’What?” No response. Levi coughed and cleared his throat, the return of his scathing tone, “What?”

The knob swiveled. His door creaked. In the shadows of dawn stood a domineering, a commanding, six-foot figure. The leisurely pace with which he entered the room conveyed that there was no life-or-death emergency, and thus no good reason, for having barged in here on his day off. Levi rolled his eyes and scowled, “I didn’t say ‘come in.’”

Erwin ignored his remark and instead cut to the chase. “Supply transports were raided in Trost.”

His mind already set in vacation mode, it was remarkable how quickly his knowledge of the restock had left him, “What?”

“Tug-of-war with the Garrisons and MPs, scouring over the leftover scraps of the materials that were supposed to be.”

“The hell do the MPs need anything for?”

“I’m headed to the capital to find out.”

Too tired to think - let alone attempt - to disguise his confusion. Levi’s brows arced, lips parted as he tried to piece together what the hell this had to do with him. When it dawned, his trademark pout revived. 

“...No.”

“So you’ll take my stand, running morning drills in -” Erwin checked his pocket watch - “twenty minutes.”

“I’m off today.” Levi refuted. “Get Miche or Hange to do it.”

“They’re coming with me.” Erwin’s eyes were dead set, nearly offended, don’t you know I’ve thought of this already? “Unless, of course, you want to make the trip.”

To yak with the higher-ups? He would sooner crawl through mud.

Though he was given a choice, he took pity at his situation: “Bullshit…” Levi cursed beneath his breath, his version of whining.

Impatient, Erwin tapped his foot, “Are you going to get up or would you like to sit here and talk about our feelings?” The commander’s voice was starkly monotone, despite the sarcasm dripping in his statement.

Levi could play that card, too. “Are you going to leave or are you just here to watch my bare ass roll out of bed?”

Right. Erwin turned on his heel, door slammed in his wake. 

His impulse was to throw his head back on his pillow and an arm over his face, but twenty minutes - he didn’t even have the time for that. Levi bunched his sheets in his hands, so angry that his fists trembled, and swiveled his legs over the edge of his bed. A pang of nausea and a sharp headache, his body was pissed at him for the violent disruption of his sleep cycle. Levi held his forehead in hand and shook, blame eyebrows, not me. 

Levi’s limbs felt heavy, like he had just come indoors from a rainstorm. Clouds of colorful swears and harsh grunts propelled him through his morning routine. A three-minute shower, trimming his bangs, toothpaste and mouthwash followed by tea. One of many identical uniforms was laid out on his dresser, but before that…

From head to toe - undercut nape, under the arms, the shelf of his pecs, between his thighs, and finally his feet - Levi always applied a handful of drying agent. At this time of year, headquarters could seriously reek, and Levi refused to contribute to that filth. Pressing his lips together and stifling a yawn, he turned the container upside down. Lips parted, though, when nothing fell out. 

Shake. Shake shake.

A blockage, a clump, maybe? But there was no sound. The slightest of twitches in his fingers as Levi delicately, anxiously, twisted off the cap and peered inside. 

That’s right. He had made a mental note yesterday, that part of his day off would be dedicated to visiting the market, buying tea leaves, some new briefs, and his astringent powder - all items he was too mortified to order through the Corps. Given the thieving that had just happened, it was not like those supplies would’ve arrived anyway, but now, he would not have the freedom to go out and get them. 

With the jar completely open, he considered a few shakes in vain, but the bottle was so empty that he could see the reflection of his dark-circled eyes in the bottom of it. Levi allowed himself a heavy, exasperated sigh as he set the empty vessel back on his bathroom countertop just to loudly smack it into the trash can. Fucking shit. 

At least he had showered, but peering out the window and onto the training grounds, he could already see waves of heat radiating off the pavement. Come noon, it would be far worse. Clock ticking, for now, his only solution was to cut down on layers. It was then that he realized how little leniency the uniform lent. Gritting his teeth, Levi reluctantly left his top drawer shut, forgoing his undershirt and underwear. Walking past his mirror, his reflection caught his own eyes: his ivory skin barely yet noticeably peeking through the buttons of his grey shirt. Goddammit, he ripped the brown, canvas coat off its hanger and crossed it tight across his chest. To the harmony of his soles on wooden floor, his inner voice melodized: Could an outfit be both breathable and modest?

Levi could not bring himself to abandon his cravat, so instead of tying it beneath his collar, he let it sling out his back pocket, at the ready to grasp for when he needed to wipe his sweat away. That moment was inevitable, but he preferred not to think about it. He ran his fingers through his hair, base of his hand lingered on his widow’s peak, grinding pressure away like a mortar and pestle. Whatever, he tried to assure himself, as long as no one was around… 

At first, he thought he might manage. If they got close enough, they would surely notice the glimmer shining upon his skin. However, by terse orders and points of his fingers, he had maintained a perpetual distance from the hoard of trainees. He was more of a hands-on kind of teacher, opting to join them as they ran laps or learned to grapple through trees. Today, though, he was standing in the shade several yards from the action. If anyone gave him shit for lazying aside, he had an excuse in that he wasn’t even supposed to be on-call today anyways. However, perhaps because he looked particularly irritable and scary, no one dared question his bystanding.

Then came you.

“Levi?”

It was the first time you had ever seen startle on the captain. A simultaneous, steep flinch in each of his shoulders. Hairs stood on end, he whipped his gaze around, “What? What’re you doing here?”

The sight of panic on someone so fearless, it caused you to fret by proxy. “I - I uh…” You had never second-guessed him before, you had never had to. “I’m covering for -”

“Erwin?” 

You knit your hands behind your back, a sheepish grin, “He said you’d need help. You know, given the heat…”

Levi crossed his arms and bit the inside of his cheek. How shitty could that oaf be? The truth was that this heat was getting to everyone, yet in his fluster, Levi was sure that not only Erwin knew about his secret susceptibility, but that he had spilled it to the last person Levi wanted to know. No words seemed adequate for response, so instead, he kicked his foot against the barrack wall, leaned back, and deferred to silence.  

Something was off, your eyes darted in search for it. His cheeks had been tainted a light red. Luckily, you chalked it up to the temperature, though Levi knew that was not the sole factor. His hair was slicker than its usual light-and-airy allure, you figured he had just gotten out of the shower. That was true, but this damp was sweat, not soap. Your gaze started to descend down his body, and on the way, you noticed it: no cravat. 

A dog without a collar. A missing puzzle piece. Mildly irksome yet disproportionately intriguing. It was like he had read your mind, the mocking timing with which he reached back into his pocket and lifted the cloth to his forehead, sighing and swiping. After a couple wringing flicks of his wrist, he folded it and shoved it inside the lining of his tan jacket. His left hand tucked it away, hidden, while his right hand lifted the coat away from his chest, granting him the space to do so. Again, his own state snagged his attention - the dark, drenched patch of fabric at his underarm jumped out like a bug on a wall. Fiercely, he snatched his jacket shut again, praying to whatever was out there that you had not seen. 

And though you had not seen the soak of his shirt, his odd behavior was garnering more and more of your attention. Cruelly, that made him sweat even more: not only the sun’s rays, but the blaze of your stare burning onto his skin. He cursed the thickness of his leather boots, the ODM gear that strapped his clothing tight to his skin, the turn of events that had brought you to this moment, his stupid genetics, and his even stupider feelings for you. Thoughts spiraling, humidity could mess with him in ways that titans could not.

If you thought hard about it, you may have realized that his humidity induced the same haze in you. Bangs glued to his forehead. Chest rose high and fell deep - combined with his light panting - made your brain boggle. Now and then, a clear bead of sweat would fall from his temple, down his jawline and neck, before disappearing down his collar - where you noticed that his top button was uncharacteristically undone. 

The loud pop! as he uncorked his canteen broke both of your thirsts. Head tilted far back, Adam’s apple deliciously bobbed as he gulped down his water. Lips absentmindedly fallen, your eyes drank as he did. 

Levi recognized, pretending that he hadn’t noticed your stare had thus far failed to shake it. He scoffed internally: someone could use some self-awareness, he was literally dripping with it. With a straight-on side-eye, he maintained eye contact as he gradually lowered the canteen from his lips, only to thrash it and splash it upwards into his own face. Still, you gaped like an idiot. Finally, Levi decided: if you were going to be this indulgent, he would be, too. Maybe then, you’d realize. Levi thumbed a leaking drop from the corner of his mouth. After briefly sucking the digit dry, his tongue snuck between his lips to slowly lick them clean. 

Stone-cold steel eyes and his soft pink tongue - that was what it took to break your concentration. Immediately, you snapped your gaze down to your toes and silently mouthed sorry. 

Despite the heat, shivers somehow managed to seize his figure. With your gaze averted, you thankfully missed them. However, when you no longer had your sight to rely on, other senses instinctively took over. Particularly, scent: aged sandalwood, burnt charcoal, bitter tea. On the training grounds, these smells did not come naturally. And if it were anyone else, you may have cringed at the combination of scents, but upon realization of the one and only source of this musk, you felt your middle warm with inexplicable satisfaction. 

Meanwhile, he was squirming: fuck, how badly he wanted to hit the showers. If Erwin had left this assignment to him, he had every right to leave it to the next person. The thing was, that next person was you, the blinking, doe-eyed, fresh promotion who hardly knew their blades from their gas. If you were anyone else, he could see himself saying: take this cash, head to the square and stop at this stand, buy the tallest bottle they have and bring it back to me. Say a word, you’re dead. 

But you were the entire reason he strove to keep this secret under wraps. To give you such orders would essentially be a confession, erasing the whole point. Between a rock and a hard place, Levi stood frozen in fever. 

The air was thick with moisture and silence. With each breath, the memory of that canteen escapade and his intensifying aura seemed to suffocate you. Internally, he was simmering over how to shoo you away from his disgusting sorry state. On the other hand, you were parsing over how to excuse yourself without being rude. 

The 10:00 bell rang, you used it to craft a feigned excuse, “If you’ve got things under control -”

“I do.” In some ways, he did. In others, absolutely not. 

“- I’m supposed to help mess out with lunch.”

Levi knit his brows, seemed unlikely, but he would not object. With a slight flick of his head, his gesture released you from post and encouraged you inside.

At the door frame and with his back turned, you could not help but take one last look. At his last end and assuming you had departed already, he finally shouldered that Scouts jacket off, revealing his light-grey button up having turned dark with his sweat. His fist clutched his collar and fanned ferociously, allowing his skin to breathe. Inaudible to the other, you both simultaneously reprieved, “Fuck me…”

At 11 on the dot, Levi and the platoon of morning athletes were in the cafeteria line. So what if it meant they called it quits prematurely? Inside, no one was complaining. Levi was relieved that he did not find you there, hopeful that you were in your room avoiding heat stroke, and oddly satisfied to have correctly suspected your “cafeteria-duties” bluff earlier. 

Levi looked like he had been rained on then dunk-tanked. At least, that was how his squad put it, jeering and elbowing, “What happened to you out there?”

They didn’t want to know. He didn’t want them to know. Most of all, he would rather forget this day ever happened. He took his steel tray and made for his room to eat in private - but more importantly, to shower again.  

The venture back to his quarters seemed to drag - maybe it was because the dampness of his clothes had weighed him down, or maybe it was because the empty, lone quiet of the halls allowed his consciousness to echo loud and clear: humiliating, huh? 

He could not deny that it was fucking humiliating, but for as scathing as the memory of that embarrassment was, the recollection of your rose-colored stare was just as impactful. All along, he had feared that if you witnessed his weakness to heat - more so the sweat and stench that came with it, it would have sent you running the other direction. Self-doubt suggested: they did end up running, though. That mess-hall excuse, them being them, they were probably trying not to offend you as they took cover from your reek. Self-confidence objected, but remember the way they looked at you? Don’t play dumb. You know that look anywhere. They like you - and hell - maybe they liked it.

On his doormat, a tall white bottle and a handwritten note confirmed the latter.

Seemed like you were missing something… …not that I think you need it. - (Y/N)

// masterlist //

[meitantei-shitpost]

Detco m27 spoilers under the cut!!! ⚠️

So. I figured I would rant a little about the big reveal that’s been going around as I’ve already been spoiled. I’m not a huge kaishin shipper although I did do a big bang event a while back. But to anyone who does ship kaishin, I’m begging you, please don’t delete your works.

Please don’t delete your fics, art, or blogs!!! They are precious works of art that you’ve worked so hard on. I don’t want to see any of it lost.

Detective Conan canon is ridiculous! If we cared about canon we wouldn’t be making all of this stuff in the first place. It’s been over 20 years and we’re suddenly supposed to accept this reveal? Hell nah. Make an AU where that shit did not happen and keep shipping it. It doesn’t matter and I imagine the fandom will already have some sort of AU tag ready that excludes movie 27 from canon (if movie 27 even ends up becoming canon).

Also, don’t bully anyone for still shipping kaishin! It doesn’t make you morally superior and it’s okay if people ship something you don’t like. Akemi and Akai dated and were cousins in canon so tbh it’s kinda par for the course in the franchise. Also in hannin no hanzawa hanzawa has a huge crush on his cousin. Idk what’s going on in this series anymore 💀

I’ve been on dcmk tumblr for about 7 years now and the fandom is honestly such a small, wholesome group. This is the first time we’ve had any real “drama” and I don’t want it to tear us apart. I hope that kaishin shippers keep doing what they’re doing regardless of whatever Gosho is cooking up.

(I also just think the whole situation is super funny. This truly is the fandom’s 9/11 I have been cackling at the absurdity. He really dropped that bomb after decades 😭😭)

[stealingyourbones]

Ask the writer ask game! Tagged by @gremlin-bot

1.) how many works do you have on ao3?

8!

2.) what’s your total ao3 word count?

50k!

3.) what fandoms do you write for?

Primarily DPxDC but I enjoy writing DC and I greatly enjoy writing D&D campaigns!

4.) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Falling in Love (In the Most Literal Sense)

Short DPxDC Prompts

I've Grown a Mouth So Sharp and Cruel (It's All That I Can Give To You)

What the Hell?! (UP FOR ADOPTION)

Dream of a Peaceful Slumber

5.) Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

I’m simply too busy with my tumblr to respond to people on ao3. If I try to focus on more than one website at a time I’ll lose my mind 😅. I promise I Look at each and every one!

6.) what’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending

There’s a sander sides fic i wrote like 8 years ago that had all of the sides get slowly and very brutally murdered one by one in hella graphic detail. I was trying to experiment with descriptors and visuals at that time. Definitely that one. I don’t think it’s on ao3 but it’s somewhere on my old Wattpad account

7.) what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Definitely Falling In Love (In The Most Literal Sense) or an unpublished eldritch smut horror DeadOnMain fic that’s forever staying in WIP hell. Falling In Love first and foremost has an ending, secondly they get along and it’s cute :)

8.) do you get hate on fics?

Not really. I occasionally get questions or criticism on my tumblr but that’s either advice or someone wanting answers and that isn’t hate.

9.) Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I have tried my hand at smut before. Mostly smutty scenes with kinda sorta fade to black, solely because I’m terrible at painting a mental picture for the reader so it always flows terribly. I’ve written that eldritch DeadOnMain thing as I said previously, and some of Jason’s matches Malone persona OF ideas.

10.) do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one?

Somewhere in my WIPs there is a homestuck AU DPxDC fic where DP kids are the humans and DC folks (primarily the teen titans) are the trolls. Definitely that one.

11.) have you ever had a fic stolen?

No fics but I’ve been sent asks that are word for word one of my prompts. I just delete those and go on with my day. Idk I don’t have a tiktok and someone’s probably imitating me on there with my prompts so possibly????

12.) have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope!

13.) have you ever co-written a fic?

Yes!! I’ve Grown A Mouth So Sharp And Cruel (It’s All That I Can Give To You My Dear) (eventually I’ll get around to working on it I have so much stuff going on like preparing to move and finals creeping up aUGH)

14.) what’s your all time fav ship?

Ooooo It’s a solid tie between Kon/Tim and Dave/Karkat. One is my current favorite and the other is one that’s been my favorite ship for the longest time.

15.) what’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

I have a WIP in my files that’s a DPxDC Dash/Danny fic where Dash is a bomb disposal tech and Danny just moved into Gotham. I have the entire outline written and almost a solid chapter done but I heavily doubt I’ll have the motivation to touch it again.

16.) what are your writing strengths?

I don’t think I have any, (I haven’t written a full length fic in so long I can’t really tell 😅) but I’m very good at setting tone. Idk what do y’all think?

17.) writing weaknesses?

Dialogue. 100% dialogue. It always feels clunky and unconversational whenever I read it back. I swear the second I start writing talking I forget how conversations work.

18.) thoughts on writing dialogue in another language?

I’d probably throw a simple word here in there of the other language if I’m writing a bilingual speaker or ask a pal to help me with translations because I only know English and I know damn well that friends are better translators than google.

19.) first fandom you wrote for?

Sander Sides! I wrote a solid 500ish prompts for that fandom and like 70k worth of fics. It was what got me into writing and for that I’m so very glad.

20.) Fav fic you’ve ever written?

Definitely my Batman mermaid au. I love it to bits and I’m so proud of the designs and I’m always kinda sad that I’m the only one as enthused about this work as I am. None the less I reread it at least every 3 months and it always makes me smile doing so.

Ooo who to tag… @chromatographic @halfagone @susiron