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zesty4zenin · 8 months ago

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“𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬, 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞?”

YANDERE!DOUMA X MALE!READER

SYPNOSIS: Douma’s cult offered him a pretty little thing. And for the first time in awhile, he doesn’t want to eat it. He instead wants to keep it with him! Forever.

WARNINGS: gore, cannibalism, implied forced marriage, and that’s it!

A/N: I’m trying a different style for my works..… you guys like it or should I go back to my regular style? :3

IT WAS just another day for Douma.

He greeted his followers with a casual hello, letting them shower him with worship and adoration. Among the rituals of his day, he indulged in the elaborate fake food he meticulously prepared, relished the real delicacies that satisfied his demonic cravings, and of course, savored the taste of women who fell under his spell.

Then, as the day waned, he retired to his quarters, pretending to sleep. It was a routine he followed diligently, day after day, without fail. Occasionally, a follower would discover his true nature as a demon, but Douma disposed of them swiftly, consuming their flesh without a hint of remorse.

And through it all, he felt nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

His life was a repetitive cycle, void of any genuine emotion or thrill.

The monotony was occasionally broken by the desperate pleas of those who realized the horror of what he truly was, but their fear only provided a fleeting amusement.

As the sun set, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, Douma lounged on his throne, surrounded by his devoted followers. He observed them with a detached curiosity, wondering what it would be like to feel as they did. They looked up to him with such reverence, unaware of the fate that could befall them at any moment.

One follower, a young woman, approached him with a gift, her hands trembling. "Lord Douma, I brought this for you," she said, her voice quivering with a mix of fear and adoration. Douma accepted the gift with a smile, masking the indifference behind his eyes.

"Thank you," he replied smoothly, his voice dripping with charm. "Your dedication is always appreciated."

The woman blushed, stepping back into the crowd. Douma's smile lingered as he watched her, already planning her demise for when her usefulness had ended.

As the night deepened, Douma continued his charade, maintaining his facade of benevolence and divinity. Yet inside, he was as empty as ever, each day blending into the next, the endless cycle of his existence.

But something in the air tonight felt different, as if a change was approaching.

Yeah, right.

Nothing has changed since all these years he’s been a cult leader, so why would it change now?

He shrugged his shoulders and closed his eyes, pretending to go to sleep, something he was no longer able to do.

THE NEXT DAY..

Douma 'awoke' with a yawn, stretching his sinewy limbs beneath the dim, crescent moon that cast a faint glow through his chambers. His eyes, devoid of human warmth, flickered with the remnants of a dream he couldn't quite recall.

He sighed softly, the memory of sunlight teasing at the edges of his consciousness, a distant echo of a time when such mundane sensations held meaning. But those days were long gone, replaced by the hunger and power that came with being a demon.

As he began to rise from his makeshift slumber, a soft knock interrupted his thoughts, followed by a timid voice outside his chamber door.

"Come in!" he chimed, his voice carrying an almost playful cadence as he settled onto his ornate throne, unfurling a delicate fan with practiced grace.

As the door swung open, revealing two of his devoted women worshippers, their smiles widened as they beheld Douma lounging regally on his throne. Their eyes sparkled with adoration as they stepped forward, barely containing their excitement.

"We have someone new to introduce to you, Lord Douma," one of them gushed, her voice tinged with reverence.

The other nodded eagerly, stepping aside to reveal you standing in the doorway, bathed in the faint moonlight that filtered through the chamber. Your presence seemed to stir something within Douma—something he hadn't felt in centuries.

His eyes, usually cold and indifferent, widened imperceptibly as he took you in. For the first time in his existence, a strange sensation gripped his heart—a version of what humans called love.

It was possessive, consuming, and entirely his own.

"You've caught my interest," he murmured, his voice a low, mesmerizing purr as he studied you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

Douma didn't usually take much interest in his male worshippers. They were typically predictable and lacked the intriguing nuances that made him want them, for entertainment or pleasure. Their devotion was unwavering but bland, their actions all too similar to one another.

But you? You were different. There was something about you that drew his attention, something that set you apart from the rest. Your demeanor, your presence—it stirred a curiosity within him that he hadn't felt before.

Douma leaned forward, his fan brushing lightly against his chin as he observed you with a growing curiosity. "What is your name?" he asked, his voice dripping with a sweet, almost mocking charm.

You hesitated for a moment before answering, "[Name]."

Douma's lips curled into a slow, almost predatory smile. "[Name]… Welcome," he said softly. "I sense there's something special about you."

The two women glanced at each other, surprised by Douma's unusual interest. They had never seen him react this way to a new follower, especially not a male.

"Come closer," Douma beckoned, his gaze unwavering. As you stepped forward, you felt an inexplicable pull toward him, as if his very presence demanded your attention and obedience.

He waited for you to come closer, his eyes darkening with a possessive glint. "You’re very pretty for a boy," he cooed, his voice a silky whisper that promised both danger and allure.

The women by his side beamed, pleased with their lord's approval. Douma, however, couldn't tear his eyes away from you. For once, he felt a genuine interest, a twisted form of fascination that threatened to consume him entirely.

The women exchanged glances, their smiles widening even more as they saw the intense focus Douma had on you. One of them couldn't contain her curiosity any longer.

"Lord Douma, do you like him?" she asked, her voice filled with a mix of excitement and awe.

Douma's gaze never wavered from you as a slow, almost predatory smile curled his lips. "Yes," he replied softly, his eyes gleaming with a strange light. "I do."

The women, thrilled by his response, bowed deeply before making their way out of the chamber. "We shall leave you two alone then," one of them said, her voice tinged with satisfaction.

As the door closed behind them, the room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the soft rustle of Douma's fan as he flicked it shut. His eyes, now entirely focused on you, bore into yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

"Come closer," he commanded, his voice low and hypnotic. "I want to get a better look at you."

You took a hesitant step forward, feeling the weight of his gaze as if it were a physical touch. The air seemed to grow thicker, charged with an electric tension that was both thrilling and terrifying.

Douma's smile widened as you approached, a twisted satisfaction playing across his features. "Tell me, [Name]," he purred, his eyes locking onto yours with a possessive hunger. "What is it that you desire most?"

You took a deep breath, feeling the intensity of Douma's gaze pierce through you. "I desire love and companionship," you confessed, your voice steady but filled with an underlying sorrow. "My fiancée abused me, and my family despises me. I've been searching for a place where I can belong."

Douma's expression shifted subtly, a flicker of something darker passing through his eyes. He rose from his throne and stepped closer, his movements smooth and almost predatory. The air around him seemed to grow colder as he approached.

"Love and companionship," he repeated, his voice a whisper that seemed to echo in the chamber. "Such simple desires, yet so elusive for many." He reached out, gently lifting your chin with a finger, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Tell me, [Name], do you believe you can find that here, with Eternal Paradise?"

His touch sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and a strange sense of comfort. "I… I don't know," you admitted, your eyes searching his for any hint of genuine emotion.

Douma's smile widened, a twisted blend of compassion and malice. "You will find what you seek here," he murmured, his voice a seductive promise. "I will ensure it. You will be loved, cherished, and protected under my watchful eye."

His words, though meant to be comforting, carried an underlying threat. There was no escape from his grasp, no turning back once you stepped into his world. Yet, in that moment, you couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope, however twisted it might be.

"Stay by my side, [Name]," Douma continued, his hand sliding from your chin to gently cup your cheek. "And I will give you everything you desire."

"You'll never be alone again," Douma continued, his eyes burning with a fervent intensity. "I will give you everything you desire, and more. All you have to do is trust me."

His hand dropped from your cheek, but his eyes never left yours. The room seemed to close in around you, the air thick with a tension that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

"Do you trust me, [Name]?" Douma asked, his voice a soft, seductive purr that promised both danger and salvation.

"Yes," you replied, the word slipping out a bit too eagerly as relief washed over you. Douma's laughter rang through the chamber, a low, amused sound that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Good," he said, his smile widening into something almost predatory. "I’m glad you trust me. Because I trust you too."

With a dismissive wave of his hand, he gestured for you to join the other worshippers who were still lingering outside. "Mingle with the others for now," he instructed, his voice tinged with a hint of excitement. "There’s something that I have to do right now."

As you reluctantly turned to leave, you couldn't shake the feeling of Douma's eyes following you, his presence lingering like a shadow in your mind. The other worshippers greeted you warmly, their admiration for Douma evident in their every word and gesture.

Meanwhile, Douma remained seated on his throne, his mind spinning with possibilities. You had stirred something within him—something he hadn't felt even when he was human. It wasn't just desire or possession; it was a twisted fascination that threatened to consume him.

As he watched you mingle with the others, a dangerous smile played across his lips. "Yes, [Name]," he whispered to himself, his eyes glinting with dark intent. "I think I’ll keep you until you turn bitter and old."

With that thought, Douma leaned back in his throne, his mind already plotting the next steps.

—

It was later that night, the temple quiet as everyone else had drifted into peaceful slumber. But you were restless, feeling the need to speak with Douma before you finally lay down to sleep. Dressed in your nemaki, you made your way through the darkened halls to his personal chambers, a sense of devotion and eagerness driving you forward.

"Lord Douma?" you called out happily as you opened the door to his chambers, but the room seemed empty, silent. Strange. Douma was usually there, a constant presence. Undeterred, you stepped inside, the soft rustle of your nemaki the only sound breaking the stillness.

As you ventured further into his chambers, a faint, metallic scent reached your nose, causing you to pause. Your heart began to race, a sense of foreboding settling over you. Pushing forward, you followed the scent until you heard the unmistakable sound of squelching and chewing.

Frozen in place, your eyes widened in horror as you came upon the gruesome scene. There, on the floor, lay your fiancée, her body ripped apart, bathed in a pool of her own blood. Douma was crouched over her, his mouth stained with crimson as he devoured her remains with a chillingly serene expression.

Time seemed to slow as you stood there, your mind struggling to process the sight before you. The warmth of the room felt like ice against your skin, the reality of the situation hitting you like a physical blow.

Douma looked up, meeting your eyes with a detached calmness that sent a shiver down your spine. "Ah, [Name]," he said, his voice disturbingly casual as he wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. "I didn't expect you to be up so late."

His eyes gleamed with a dark satisfaction, the earlier hatred now replaced with a twisted sense of possessiveness. "It seems I've taken care of a little… inconvenience," he continued, his tone devoid of remorse.

Your heart pounded in your chest, a mix of fear, shock, and betrayal swirling within you. "Why?" you managed to choke out, your voice trembling.

Douma's smile remained disturbingly serene as he stood, stepping over the remains of your fiancée with casual indifference. "She was getting in the way," he explained, his tone almost gentle. "She's in a better place now."

Tears welled up in your eyes, the horror of the scene overwhelming you. You turned to run, desperate to escape the nightmare, but before you could take more than a few steps, Douma's hand shot out with inhuman speed, gripping your arm and pulling you back to him. Panic surged through you as his iron grip held you in place, his eyes locking onto yours with an unsettling intensity.

"There's no need to be afraid," he murmured, his voice deceptively soothing. "I did this for us, [Name]. I learned what love is just for you. You should be grateful."

You struggled against him, your tears flowing freely now, but his hold was unyielding. "Let me go," you pleaded, your voice breaking.

Douma's expression darkened, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. "No, [Name]," he said firmly. "You need to understand. I did this out of love. Say thank you."

His words were a command, not a request. You felt his grip tighten, the pressure making your heart race even faster. "Say it," he insisted, his voice playful but strained.

Trembling, you forced the words out, your voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you."

Douma's smile returned, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Good," he said softly, releasing his grip slightly but not letting you go. "See? That wasn't so hard."

He pulled you closer, his other hand gently brushing away your tears. "Now, remember, [Name]," he whispered, his voice dripping with possessiveness. "You belong to me, and I will always take care of you. No one will ever come between us again."

Douma's eyes softened as he gently brushed a tear from your cheek. "Now, go back to sleep, [Name]," he instructed, his voice taking on a calming, almost hypnotic quality. Leaning in, he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, the metallic taste of your fiancée's blood smearing against your mouth, making you shudder.

With a shaky breath, you nodded and slowly walked out of his chambers, your legs feeling like they might give out at any moment. Each step felt heavy, your mind struggling to process the horrors you'd witnessed. When you finally reached your room, you collapsed onto your futon, curling up in a ball as silent tears continued to stream down your face.

Meanwhile, back in his chambers, Douma returned to the remains of your fiancée. He crouched down beside her, his eyes gleaming with a twisted satisfaction. With deliberate, almost reverent movements, he resumed his feast, tearing into her flesh with a disturbing ease.

The room filled with the sickening sounds of squelching and tearing as Douma devoured her piece by piece. His hands were slick with blood, his lips stained crimson as he chewed methodically, savoring every bite. He stripped the flesh from her bones, consuming it with a fervent hunger that bordered on ritualistic.

Douma's eyes flickered with satisfaction as he continued, his sharp teeth effortlessly ripping through muscle and sinew. He relished the metallic tang of her blood, the warmth of her flesh, the way her body yielded beneath his grasp. For him, this was more than sustenance—it was a declaration of the lengths he would go to ensure you remained his.

As he finished, Douma sat back on his heels, surveying the remnants of his meal with a satisfied smile. He wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, his thoughts already returning to you and the twisted love that bound you to him.

"Sleep well, [Name]," he whispered to the empty room, his voice carrying a promise of both protection and possession. "Tomorrow is a new day for us."

—

A year had passed since that horrifying night when you discovered Douma's true nature. The memory of him devouring your fiancée haunted your dreams, but you had long since stopped trying to escape. Each attempt was met with swift retribution, either from Douma himself or one of his loyal followers. In the end, you surrendered to your fate, resigning yourself to the life Douma had crafted for you.

Now, you sat on the throne beside him, a symbol of your reluctant acceptance. Douma lounged comfortably, sitting cross-legged with an air of regal nonchalance, while you knelt next to him, holding onto his arm and leaning into his side. The weight of his presence was both a comfort and a chain, binding you to him in a way that was inescapable.

"Look at our paradise, [Name]," Douma said softly, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he gestured to the room filled with worshippers. "Isn't it beautiful?"

You nodded, your eyes distant as you gazed out at the devoted followers. "Yes, my lord," you replied, your voice subdued. The title of "lord" felt foreign on your tongue, a constant reminder of the twisted love that had ensnared you.

Douma smiled, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your arm. "You see, this is what true love is," he murmured, leaning closer to you. "A bond that cannot be broken, a connection that transcends all else."

You forced a smile, your heart heavy with the weight of your circumstances. "Yes, Douma," you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He tilted your chin up, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. "You belong to me, [Name]," he reminded you, his voice a playful purr. "And I will protect what is mine."

The worshippers around you continued their adoration, oblivious to the dark undercurrents that flowed between you and Douma. To them, you were their new lord, the perfect partner for their divine leader. They couldn't see the fear and resignation that lurked beneath your surface, the silent cries for freedom that had long since faded into acceptance.

As you leaned into Douma's side, you felt the cold metal of his fan against your skin, a constant reminder of his power and control. You were bound to him, forever trapped in the eternal paradise he had created, a paradise that was nothing more than a gilded cage.

ahh, that was my first time writing for demon slayer !! Was it good ? Did I write Douma decently ? 😭 also, I am writing chap 2 for yan!fem!Toji story :3

requests are open. . . — made by zesty4zenin on tumblr only!!

#anime and manga #zesty4zenin #yandere x reader #demon slayer #kny x reader #demon slayer douma #douma x reader #yandere kimetsu no yaiba #yandere douma x reader #yandere douma #male reader #douma X male reader

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gayhorrorsans · 3 months ago

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THIS WAS MADE ABOUT 5 MONTHS AGO, MY WRITNG IS BETTER NOW. I HAVE NOT PROOF-READ OR EDITED THIS. IT WILL BE CRINGEY. SORRY

Initially requested by @dustcrumbs

tw for implied suicide, injury, unrequited love, homophobia and potentially more. Reader discretion is advised

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Love would never work. That's what Phantom Papyrus always told Dust. 'What's the point in trying when no one will love you.' At first it was whatever, Dust coped fine. However the relentless bashing, the constant mentioning that you weren't even worthy of as much as 'Hello' or 'How are you?' hurt. Like being beat across the head with a baseball bat. And this didn't stop, it never did. Even after Dust met Nightmare. It got worse. Any positive emotion Dust felt to anyone, something as little as respect, his brother would berate him for. That's why Dust never talked. He was always having someone in his ear constantly. Calling him every profanity under the sun. Nothing could help. No medication in the world would keep him productive whilst eliminating his brother. He refused to get rid of the scarf, as much as it hurt him it was the only thing that helped him hang on.

With the addition of Killer the group felt more like a group instead of just a sort of hitman for hire. He, Killer and Nightmare. Killer was the opposite of Dust in some ways. He was talkative, sometimes too talkative. Dust never cared, he'd just let Killer go on. Sometimes he would flirt for the sake of it. An emotionless being had no clue how much his words would impact someone like Dust. From this point Papyrus had only been calling him mean names, and making fun of him, lecturing him as to how no one to ever exist would ever love him. Dust hadn't said a word to Papyrus since a year after the human stopped RESETing. After Dust read upon schizophrenia during his endless time alone he learnt not to antagonize the hallucinations. Whatever, Dust dealt with it in any way possible. If listening to Killer babble on about whatever made him happy he'd do it. It gave him something to focus on besides the red scarf screaming the same things at him.

With Nightmare and Killer it never really mattered, he had no attraction to them. After Cross joined, Dust had a lot more of Papyrus screaming at him. Nearly 24 hours a day he was moments from tears. Not because the insults upset him. Not because the fact it was Papyrus. But because it was annoying. Imagine trying to sleep, not being able to because all you hear is constant speaking, screaming in your ear all the time. It would never stop. Twenty-Four hours a day. Seven days a week. It got no better when Error became a sort-of member. Papyrus only got worse. The more time he spent around men, the more Papyrus acted up. Whenever he went out alone, or was around some kind of genderbent AU, Papyrus never spoke. It annoyed Dust, what was so different about them? He had a suspicion Papyrus didn't like homosexuality in any way for a while, but had no explicit proof, nor did he have any proof at all still. He had no evidence to back it up. Plus, he still refused to burn the scarf.

The final member joined. Horror. Dust wasn't there when Horror entered for the first time. Nor was he there the day after. But the third day in he was eating breakfast. Papyrus was being quiet. His soul was calm. It was very early after all, before Nightmare would even leave his room. Then he looked up, seeing a larger skeleton, at least a foot taller than him, maybe two, who easily weighed 5 times Dust's size, was making a coffee. His back turned to Dust. Dust's soul skipped a beat. He was enamoured, no, he was. He was. In love. Horror was, physically sculpted. Strong, built, and looked like he could knock Dust out in a second. With every strength comes a weakness of course, Dust was aware that Horror had quite weak magic, barely being able to use bone attacks, with most of his magic going to teleportation and keeping his body alive.

Horror hadn't noticed Dust's stare. He was still waiting for the kettle to boil. Dust immediately pulled the tassels of his hoodie, hiding his face from Horror and anyone who may walk in. He was, silently hyperventilating. His face bright with purple, a deep mauve. Speckled with little bits of dark purple glitter. Like freckles. Each monsters pattern was unique, Dust's wasn't anything special, but still pretty. As he tried to manage the speed of his soul, Papyrus caught on to what was happening. Safe to say he wasn't pleased. But Dust managed to zone him out as Horror turned around with his coffee and sat down. Dust managed to calm down enough to where the purple had faded to a very light dusting, it could be tossed up to him being embarrassed about meeting someone new.

Horror spoke first, stirring his coffee before leaning back and placing the stirrer back on the coffee set. "So, Dust? Murder?... given couple names... f'er you." He spoke slowly and in small bits, easier to process. Dust didn't ask why, nor bothered thinking about it much. He just loved the way that Horror spoke, mesmerising. Everything from his accent, a deep rustic sounding. Not like Dust used to sound. The two clearly had different surroundings after their timeline. He spoke far deeper than Dust, and Dust had a deep voice. Horror was similar to Nightmare in how he spoke, without the distortion of Nightmares voice. Horror was far less formal, colloquialised terms or contractions were stuff that he seemed to used often. "Either. M-mostly address myself as Dust. Murder's more a... formal name." Dust stuttered, he silently cursed himself. How could he just embarrass himself in front of the hottest hunk he has ever met. He hoped the other wouldn't notice. Horror was just staring at his coffee before Dust spoke, but stared at his eyes, morning eyes. Horror had just woken up not too long ago. He was still tired, but the look he gave Dust made him almost squeal like he fanboying over this man. He controlled himself just barely, pressing his legs together to try use some of his energy without Horror seeing. "Mm. Murder... Nice ring to it." He smiled, taking a small sip of his drink again, looking back at Dust. "Dust... use that then.... f'er now." He chuckled a bit, causing Dust to have to press his fists together under the table, desperately trying to distract himself and not make some embarrassing sound or giggle that would make him sound creepy. Oh God, what if Horror thought he was creepy? Or weird? What would he do? He tried to not focus on that, instead attempting to smile at Horror, failing miserably, his face was still covered in that shadow. "Mm? Early... you go bed?" Horror gave him a reason to excuse himself, Dust nodded, apologising and walked to his room, running when he was out of earshot of the kitchen. He sat down in his room, locking the door and panting as he sat down on his bed. "Pathetic. You've fallen for someone that easily." His brother started to speak. Papyrus clearly didn't approve of the idea. "It's... he's different. Just stay out of it." Dust actually replied to his Papyrus, for the first time in years. He shouldn't have really. That let Papyrus know that this got to Dust. "A fucking man no less. You know you're a man too? Or did you forget that too." Papyrus laughed at himself, Dust didn't entertain it. "I like him. Shut your fat fucking mouth and stay out of it." Even 2 weeks ago Dust would have never dreamed of insulting any, never mind his own, Papyrus.

"Oh I see how it is. You prefer him over me? Let me guess you won't kill him will you. Well remember why you joined here. To get EXP." "No. That's not why I joined." Dust held his head, his breathing getting faster, he was wishing he never responded to Papyrus. He grabbed the scarf and threw it on the floor, rubbing it into the ground under his shoe.

"I try to help you and you ignore me. They will betray you Sans. You're just some low level, nothing faggot." Dust froze. "What." Phantom repeated himself. "I said. I try to help you and you ignore me. They will betray you Sans. You're just some low level, nothing faggot."

Dust stood up and grabbed the scarf. He marched out, unlocking the door and leaving the castle. He walked past Horror who was still drinking his coffee and outside where the group gathered for a fire every now and again. He poured some gasoline onto the scarf, and lit a piece of string which led to it. In a few seconds. The scarf went bursting up in flames. Causing Dust to squint slightly. He walked back a bit as he heard Papyrus scream, slowly. Very slowly, the screams faded. Then silence. He turned around and nearly fell backwards. Stepping back as he had just walked into Horror. How the fuck did he get there without Dust realising? "O-oh- s-sorry!" He apologised. Horror shook his head and held out a single buttercup to Dust. It was tiny in the giants hand. Dust took a moment to understand what was going on, the world began to shake as he heard a laugh.

"You really thought you could get rid of me that easily? Your own brother Sans." Phantom floated behind Horror, the giant not knowing because it was a hallucination. Dust immediately bolted past Horror, running away. Horror looked back to see him gone. The brute frowned. His first attempt at showing affection ruined in a mere instant. He teleported back to his own room and gently placed the buttercup in some powder, then some water to grow some roots. At least the plant could live on.

Dust immediately went back to his room. "Why. Won't you. Leave me. Alone." Phantom laughed at that. "I won't let my brother die due to his own poor choices."

Dust tossed a knife in the direction of Papyrus, the knife sticking itself in the wall. He ignored him. Tried to ignore him. He napped, something he rarely did these days. Papyrus screaming at him to stop being lazy and go get EXP. Dust managed to zone it out. Until he couldn't. Nightmare told Horror to go get Dust for dinner, and Horror turned up outside his door. Knocking.

Knocking.

A set of knocks later Horror groaned, he wasn't so gentle this time, practically punching the door, sending a vibration all through Dust's room (and a very loud noise too). That woke Dust up. Just as Dust was about to complain he realised who it was. He got up and exited the room. "Sorry... was asleep." Horror nodded, letting Dust walk in front of him. It was a long walk from where Dust was to the kitchen. Horror paused Dust, holding his jacket with a finger. He could tell Dust was on edge. He crouched down slightly and held his arms out to him. Just a hug, nothing more.

Dust didn't respond nicely. Papyrus' words from earlier really got to him. He, although very pathetically, pushed Horror. Horror didn't move an inch, but Dust ran after he pushed Horror, teleporting to the kitchen as soon as he could. Horror shrugged, walking to the kitchen at his own pace. He did question why though. Why was Dust acting like that? He seemed nice this morning, why was he all angry and moody. Had he done something? Maybe it was the buttercup he had given him. Had it offended him? He wanted to apologise, not over dinner though. The frail skeleton looked like he could faint any minute when Horror saw him. It didn't matter now. Horror approached the kitchen and leaned into the room, Dust was shaking on his stool. The others weren't looking at the moment. Horror went up to him. "'m sorry." He mumbled, crouching near him, pretending to pick something up off the floor.

Dust barely responded, simply shuffling a bit. No verbal confirmation of forgiveness came from him. Horror didn't need to apologise, and he didn't even tell him that. Dust was being warped and shifted by Papyrus without even realising. Horror shrugged. "Don't getcha." He stated, grabbing his food and walking away. He didn't lose anything he felt for Dust. But the tiny skeleton was being annoying to him. So he just left.

Dust was shaking. He had just upset Horror. He didn't know how to feel. The world was so busy, colours. Bright colours. The kitchen red and blue. Indigo, violet. Night time sky. Bright. Happy. Joy. Yeah. That's right. Joy. Levelling up. Dust was now faceplanted on the table, giggling to himself, to anyone else he looked creepy, but he was seeing everything. Experiences had become sort of 3rd person. He felt like he wasn't in his own body, seeing someone play out his life. Watching them make choices. He watched as he faded in and out of consciousness, barely able to breathe as he made choking noises. The extremely loud noises drew the attention of the others, who managed to shake him back to reality. Not without difficulty. It was like he had overdosed on something, had withdrawals. He hadn't taken anything. What was it. Was he just that fucked up mentally?

He thanked the others for their kindness, apologising as he stood up and went to his room. The world was dull to him now, even the others, their normal brightly coloured eyes, or in the case of killer, his red knives he carried, were dull. Not as in the sharpness of the knives, the colour. They seemed more pale or more dark. It was truly hard to describe, but Dust wasn't sure what it was anyway. He tried to not focus on how bad he was getting by climbing back into bed. Heading back to sleep at a more reasonable time.

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Horror hadn't slept. Not because he couldn't, but because he normally doesn't sleep for very long, and the night prior he had slept for about 3 times as long as he normally does. He had gone out in the night to an AU he quite liked visiting. Farmtale. He was good friends with the Sans from their. He had paid him in advance for a special bouquet of purple iris flowers, verbana and asters. It was expensive, and beautiful. Horror gave Farm a hug, before leaving. Tipping him an extra bit before he did. He returned back to the castle and placed them in some water with some auxins to propagate root growth. Then he returned to his own room to grab the buttercup, which due to the magical nature of the auxins - mixed with some magic of course- had already grown roots.

Nightmare had a garden near the castle. A little greenhouse in it too. He had given Horror permission to grow any flowers he wanted, so long as they were dull or dark colours. Purples and reds were fine, but the yellow buttercup would have broken the rules. So he used a small amount of plant-safe food dye, and splashed red onto it, making it appear to be a blood splattered plant. He would of course inform Nightmare as soon as he awoke to ask if it was fine, but at the moment, the little buttercup sat in the soil and it was pretty.

Horror had also prepared a new gift, that would arrive in the early morning, around 9-10am. He was unsure as to why, he felt this way towards Dust. Someone who clearly wasn't interested, nor even like Horror. Every time they spoke after the first interaction was barely anything. Not to mention they hadn't met a long time ago, it was only the second day. Horror was, somehow, determined to try and win Dust. Although deep down he knew, it wouldn't work.

He sat in the kitchen, the bouquet of flowers in front of him. He waited for Dust. He presumed the skeleton would expect him to be up at a similar time as the day before. So Horror believed Dust would try come an hour before to get his breakfast. And so Horror waited. And he was right. He was sat there with his coffee as Dust walked in. "Morn' Murder."

Dust froze up. Despite him allowing Horror to use the name, it still shocked him. Not to mention how he didn't think Horror would even be up. He tried to ignore him, giving in further to his Papyrus. He grabbed some bread and toasted it. He buttered it and sat down at the opposite corner of the table from Horror. Not even looking at him. He knew Horror could snap his neck if he wanted to. He should be thanking him, but again, didn't.

Horror slid the flowers to Dust, smiling as he drank his coffee, finishing it. He watched as the other looked at the flowers, examining them. Then finishing his toast. Horror had placed the flowers in a beautiful vase. It looked as if it came from royalty. It wouldn't be surprising to hear it to be one of Nightmare's old antiques. Dust grabbed it. And threw it back at Horror. Hitting him square in the forehead with it, the glass shattered. Horror didn't move for a moment. Dust froze as well. Horror moved his eyes to face Dust. And Dust was gone. Teleported away immediately. Horror twitched his skull a bit, groaning as he reached his hand deep into his skull through his eye, grabbing a few glass shards that had landed in there. He felt his eye go a bit fuzzy. The glass must have hit and cut it. He stood up and started to clean up the mess. He grabbed a sweeping brush and collected all the glass into a pile, then shovelled it into the bin, taking the bin outside and placing into the larger outdoor bin they had. They would then take that to whatever AU to dump it there or recycle it. But not now. Horror walked back inside and finished cleaning. He looked at the bouquet and sighed. Whatever. He grabbed it and went back to Farmtale.

He walked into Farm's barn, despite it being 3am in that AU. He went to Farm's room, knocked and entered. Farm slept very little through the night anyway. He silently gave Farm the bouquet, handing him another small amount of money to apologise for wasting his time. He then left after immediately, not allowing Farm to say anything. He finished wiping down and drying any water that was on the floor or counter and it looked like nothing had happened. Horror then walked towards the garden again. He sat down, catching a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the greenhouse. He looked and, didn't react much verbally, but he was seething. Dust had shattered a bit more of his skull, which wasn't the main thing that annoyed him. It was now, the crack has expanded so much, it was now connected to his eye socket. That's probably why Dust ran away so fast.

He kept his cool, not expressing his anger in any way. He watched the plants move about in the wind a bit and smiled. When he was angry back in Horrortale, he often went to Farm. He did work, but when Farm screamed at him to stop working - or else he would be drastically overworked - he would sit down outside, often with the flowers. Red spider lilies. Farm told him how they signified death to some people, Chrysanthemums too. Horror remembered always questioning him, they were all such pretty flowers. How could someone assign such horrible attributes to a flower? It didn't make sense to Horror, but they fit with Nightmares garden. And they were more than beautiful. They fit so well. Horror looked more out of place than they did. He stayed there for a few hours before he heard someone shout his name. He got up and packed away the chair, folding it up and sliding it into the greenhouse. He slowly followed the sound to the kitchen.

Dust and the others were sat down, everyone besides Dust were eating breakfast. As Horror walked in, everyone was caught staring at him, besides Dust. Horror looked badass, but that doesn't make a difference when he should have died about 10 times by now with how large his crack had grown. He was flooded with multiple questions, he shushed everyone, saying he would explain to Nightmare shortly, and to everyone else when he saw fit. He turned to Dust after everyone had calmed down slightly, seeing him have a look of sheer horror on his face. Horror shrugged, turning back to the front door as he checked the time, the delivery was due, he waited outside for the delivery. Mail Sans, a nice sans, quite generous and laid back. One of the only people who wasn't scared to deliver things to places like Dreamtale or even Dusttale. Horror tipped him, not a custom to do with delivery services but Horror felt like it. And with how this next thing would go, he wanted to at least have someone happy.

He walked inside and waited for everyone to leave besides Dust. He sat down at the table. He handed the parcel over to him.

Dust was confused, why was he still trying. He didn't like this fool... he didn't... he did. No. He didn't of course he didn't. He wasn't gay. He wasn't... no. Horror wasn't good enough for him. He knew that now. Horror was pathetic, cheap EXP even someone like Dust could feel bad for. Despite that, he felt like... he didn't know. But every time Dust came close to feeling sympathy for Horror, or even love. Papyrus would speak, quickly changing Dust's mind. Like a puppet. He opened the box, finding a knife set. It was, beautiful. Some of the most expensive, high quality knives he had ever laid his eyes upon. There was 5 sets of knives. One was for Dust, it even had a little personalised note on top. A cute little illustration of him and Horror. Each of them had one, but his was dead centre and looked to prettiest. Dust looked at it and opened the knife set for himself. Inside were 8 knives. From small knives, to a decent sized knife Dust would most likely use, to a bread knife and a carving knife. Expensive. Each knife looked pristine, easily worth £150 each. Dust examined the knife. And in an almost robotic motion, felt the handle, grabbed it, and threw it in the direction of Horror.

Horror would have taken it but dodged to prove a point. He snatched them back off Dust, then grabbed him by his shirt, lifting him up to eye level. He stared at him. His eyes not tired, lazy, nor attractive anymore. They were aggression. Pure aggression. Horror dropped him, turning away and letting Dust do whatever. He grabbed the knife sets and put them back in the box. "never asked.... for love... you could have.... said no." He walked away, directly to Nightmares room. He was uninterested in Dust now. He had tried. Little things like hugs. He had even gone into Dust's room when he wasn't there for the first few days to try introduce himself. Each time with a small box of chocolates. Dust was never there. Horror had tried these past few days. Each attempt was met with refusal. Even non-romantic things. A hug. Dust ran away from a hug. Whatever.

Horror approached Nightmares room and knocked, once he was granted entry, he handed Nightmare a knife set. The same one Dust got, a similar illustration too. It was to thank him for allowing him to come here. He assured Nightmare this wasn't some kind of last minute thing before he quit. However, he sat down and spoke. He wasn't good at speaking, so he signed by pointing at certain things to get most of his words out. He pointed at his crack, specifically the part where Dust had injured it. He then pointed at a vase with some flowers in, then signalled that he gave Dust the vase, by pretending to give Nightmare one, then stood up, in place of Dust, and threw the pretend vase directly where he was just sitting. "m... just wanted... to at least... be friends.." Nightmare nodded in response, thinking. He stood up and thanked Horror for the knife set. He apologised for Dust, insisting he would not only keep a close eye, but were he to personally witness anything, he would do the exact same thing Dust did to him, but 10 times, and with 5 times as much force each time. Infighting in his group was something Nightmare despised. For his own selfish reasons of course, but you can't run a group with constant fighting. Horror accepted the response and bowed his head towards Nightmare to signify respect, then left.

He walked quite a while to get to his next destination. Nightmares room was very out of the way from everyone else's. He eventually found his way to Cross' room. He knocked on the door, and entered. He smiled as he greeted Cross, handing him a knife set, with the same little illustration of Horror and whoever was handing it to. He sat down on the floor for a quick second, reorganising the box as he had placed all the loose knives in the box, so he didn't want to stab himself, so he placed them all at one side. He also did the same thing he did with Nightmare. Although, didn't mention name, or hinted at who it could be. He repeated this with Error and Killer. Error would have less use for a knife set compared to someone like Killer, but Error could use them for cooking.

After doing this with everyone, he went back to the kitchen, packed up his knives and went to his room. He tossed the box on the bed and immediately went to Dust's room. He knocked on the door. Nothing. That was all he needed to know. Dust didn't feel anything, no remorse, no sadness, nothing. As much as it hurt Horror (and it did), his attraction to Dust, was just that, an attraction. Dust's attraction to him, was an obsession. Horror didn't even know Dust liked him, he had a slight suspicion at the start from the others faint purple blush but whatever. It didn't matter now. It won't ever again. It won't ever be the same. Horror grabbed the knife set, and teleported out. He went to Farm. It was the only AU where he felt comfort. He walked into Farm's kitchen, knowing he would be there. It was nice.

"Hey big guy, how are y'all a-doin'?" Farm chimed, walking up to Horror, who handed him the box, with the knives left stray. Horror got down on his knees and hugged Farm.

"'m sorry...." He mumbled into the others shoulder. Big ol' softie he was. He could be anyway. He apologised for the knives not being in a proper box and just the crooked old cardboard from the delivery. He apologised for there only being 7, not 8. The 8th was ruined when Dust threw it into the wall. "Hey hey, you're fine. Ay promise ya." He gently patted Horror's back, this wasn't what he expected today, nor was it last night. He gently looked at Horror, leaning back to do so. He smiled softly, rubbing his face, "y'er eye?" Horror nodded, he tried to mumble what happened, but couldn't do it coherently, as he kept getting overwhelmed emotionally each time he did so. He mumbled, crying a little, then stopping himself. Farm thought for a second. "Ya tell anyone else?" Horror nodded. "Bring em 'ere, or we go to them!" Horror thought for a second. The only person he had said the name to was Nightmare. Whilst Nightmare didn't exactly dislike Farm, they had no positive feelings with each other.

Horror grabbed Farm's hand and teleported to Cross, who was able to more coherently say what happened than Horror was, after they left, Horror was able to mumble who did it. Whilst the answer wasn't surprising, it still was slightly shocking. Dust had appeared to be getting better. With his very few interactions with any of the Bad Sanses he knew that Dust was more sane and safer to be around. Clearly not. They returned back to Farmtale and Farm let Horror know that he could stay here any time he wanted, which Horror immediately took the offer on.

Throughout the week he had numerous missions to complete, none with Dust. Nightmare didn't put them on the same one. But that week showed how strong Horror was. Not only was he just terrifying, which inflicted negative emotions on their own. He could work his magic in multiple ways. Being able to haunt people at night in their AU's by hiding in a crack between their mostly closed curtains, making them paranoid someone was watching them. He could hide under some peoples beds, breathing at times they weren't to make them uncomfortable, which would eventually grow into absolute fear. Eventually Horror finished his first full week. Nightmare was very impressed.

One person who wasn't. Dust. Dust had slowly started to realise that Papyrus was acting that way out of selfishness. Dust was fine and could perform well with a relationship. He, was prepared to apologise to Horror, but because he almost never slept their during the week after what he did, he was unable to.

------

A few weeks had passed. Dust had seen Horror a few times, but the larger skeleton never even looked at him. It slowly started to dawn on Dust that, he had lost Horror. The person who he was literally head over heels for. He had lost him. All because. He listened. To a hallucination. Dust had lost the man who would have been his lover, if he had common sense. If he accepted Horror's advances. He laughed at himself. No this couldn't be true. It was a dream surely. It was all just a dream. He pinched himself, poked himself, hit himself. It wasn't a dream.

It wasn't a dream

It was real.

He had lost Horror.

No. No, Horror wasn't with anyone. So, over time they could build a bond back up. Right? He grabbed onto his jacket and tried to control his breathing, barely being able to at this point. He tried to bring himself to a more sane position. Papyrus had gone. Once he did his damage, he went. And Dust certainly believed he would never come back. He didn't know why he thought this, he just did.

He paused. He was in the kitchen. Horror had just walked in. He was about to get up. Go apologise. He had finally built up the courage. He was finally going to do it. He didn't expect forgiveness, but he wanted to try. He approached Horror an-. Horror wasn't alone. He was with someone. With another AU. Farm. Of course. I mean, why would Horror wait for Dust to apologise. There were always better options for him. Dust was one of possible hundreds. He was easily in the bottom third of the pile while Farm was easily top 5. And now, he had lost his chance.

He loved Horror. No, he needed him. He had never felt like that with someone ever. Not one other person gave him the same feeling that Horror did. No one could ever make him as happy as Horror. No one could bring him to his knees quite like Horror. No one could intimidate him like Horror. Horror was the best in everything to Dust. And, someone else gets that now. He's happy for Farm, sure. But, were it not for him still loving Horror. He would plunge a knife down his throat in seconds. He doesn't want to hurt Horror though. He wanted Horror in every way. And Papyrus prevented that. Dust went to the garden, pulled a flower out. And went back to the kitchen.

"H-Horror..." He spoke, attracting his attention. Dust held the flower behind his back as he spoke. "I've been... horrible. That puts it extremely lightly. I don't expect anything. But." He pulled out the buttercup that Horror had tried to give him at the start of this entire experience. The suspense was killing him. It felt like he was waiting hours for Horror to respond. Horror did wait a bit, but 5 seconds felt like 2 hours to Dust. Horror reached, and gently grabbed the buttercup. He looked at it, smiling. It was as beautiful as he remembered. The red splatters on it had faded slightly but it was still pretty.

Dust had his eyes closed, not ready for the response. He opened them slowly, met by Horror crouching down slightly. He held his arms out to Dust. To which Dust collapsed into them. He wasn't expecting forgiveness. In a way it hurt more. The love of his life forgave him for something. He wasn't the perfect partner he wanted to be. He wasn't going to end up with him. Bittersweet. He had forgiveness. That was good enough. To want more would be greedy right?. And so, Dust hung on for as long as he could, before Horror gently let him down. He rubbed the little guys head and thanked him, going to sit down with Farm. Dust nodded, and walked outside. He sat down on the steps. He had nothing to say anymore. He found his purpose. And lost it. No matter how hard he tried to convince himself that 'everything would be okay'. It wouldn't be. He was happy, for Horror. He loved him. But, a friendship isn't what Dust wanted. He went to his room, grabbed a pen and paper.

He wrote a note to each individual member of the group. Then he wrote to Horror.

'To My Love.

I, am sorry. I can't explain to you in words, on text or pages what you mean to me. I feel like until I met you, I lived in a world where I was blind, cold and deaf. When I met you, I could see, hear and feel warmth. Obviously not literally, but that's what it felt like.

You are, the most important thing to me. But being friends isn't going to help me. Do not feel guilty. I am a horrible person for what I put you through. I can't even bring myself to say your name. Hence why this letter is not addressed to you. I'm sorry. I can't say it enough really. I ruined my only chance of happiness in life. I won't have a chance to redeem it. I'm happy for you and Farm. I really am. But, to say I am jealous is to tell a blind person they need glasses. It's nowhere near the truth. I'm sorry for dumping all this on you at once. I let my hallucinations control me.

You, are the best thing that has happened to me. The few moments we had together in happiness were maybe just moments to you, but to me it was a new beginning. I would sit here now and tell you I would do anything for you. Be yours. Be a toy for you. I wouldn't be lying either. However I don't want to disrespect your relationship.

All My Love, Murder.'

He sent that letter to Farm's house, a red splatter on the back to signify it was for Horror. He did similar things with the rest. He walked out the front door. And kept walking. He walked until walking became too slow. Then he ran, until that became too slow. Then he teleported. He got as far away as he could from Nightmare's castle. He returned to Dusttale, and wrote 2 words on a piece of paper.

'Thank You.'

He left. He didn't know where he went. He just kept going until he was in a place where no one was. No one, not even Error had probably been this far. He stayed. He really did mean those words.

Thank You.

#cross sans #gayhorrorsans #sans au #horror sans #sans #dust sans #nightmare sans #farmer sans #writing #injury #unrequited love

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our-neighbours-cat-is-a-menace · 3 years ago

Text

Demon brothers reacting to MC snapping at them

Pairings:Lucifer x reader /Mammon x reader / Leviathan x reader /Satan x reader / Asmodeus x reader /Beelzebub x reader /Belphegor x reader

Warnings: angsty

Lucifer

Lucifer has been super busy and it's been a week

Always holed up in his room and you're starting to worry about your demon lover

Keeping it to a bare minimum, you go to his office bring him something to eat and drink and usher him to take a small break

Repeating this routine for three days now and you were really on edge seeing those dark circles under his eyes

Sleep deprived and a mess

Not wanting to see him like this anymore you went to Lord Diavolo and asked him to let your lover rest for a bit

The prince gladly agreed and proceeded to tell lucifer he can rest

You went home thinking you can finally have him rest, maybe you should give him some milk to help him sleep better and maybe cuddle since it's been so long

Skipping towards the house of lamentation and upon arriving you are met with an angry awvatar of pride instead

"Who do you think you are to interfere with my work?" he spit, venom laced in his words

You were taken aback with his sudden outburst

"Look here MC, i don't need you to do anything, just sit still and do nothing, it's not like a human like you can help eith anything big anyway" he stated seething at you, he's talking to you as if you're his subordinate not his lover

Deeply offended and hurt by his words, you snapped

You slapped him HARD

"NO! YOU'RE THE ONE WHO SHOULD LOOK HERE YOU PIECE OF SHIT, I KNOW FOR A FACT THAT YOU'RE WORKING FOR A CAUSE AND I AM ALSO AWARE THAT I CAN'T HELP MUCH,, THAT'S THE FREAKIN REASON WHY I'M DOING THIS FOR YOU, I'M TRYING TO MAKE SURE YOU DON'T BREAK DOWN, HAVE YOU LOOKED AT YOURSELF IN THE MIRROR ASSHOLE. IF YOU'RE GONNA ACT LIKE A TOTAL DOUCHEBAG, GO DIE IN A DITCH SOMEWHERE AND SEE IF I CARE" you shouted at the top of your lungs and immediately bolted out of the house and trudging towards the purgatory hall

Mammon

"F*ck, where is it" you slightly cursed as you were desperately looking for the necklace your grandma gave to you while you were still in the human world

That was your grandma's last memento before she died

It's been 4 hours of endless searching with no necklace in sight

You felt like crying now

Feeling hopeless you wanted to ask your boyfriend for help

Not finding him in his room, you trudged towards the living room

Successfully seeing your boyfriend with Asmo and Satan lounging in the couch

You were about to speak to your boi when he suddenly said

"damn, i didn't know sapphires cost so much" mammon boasted to his brothers feeling proud

"Hey mammon" you called not wanting to jump quickly to conclusions "What sapphire? Was it a necklace Adorned with silver on the rim?" you inquired

"Yeah, how'd you know MC" he chirped

You saw red

you quickly grabbed the nearby vase and threw it on his direction

Him being a demon easily dodged it, but he's now face to face with a fuming you

"IS THERE A LIMIT TO HOW MUCH OF A SCUM YOU CAN BE, JERK THAT NECKLACE YOU JUST SOLD WAS SOMETHING PRECIOUS TO ME THAT NO AMOUNT OF MONEY COULD BUY" you were furious and mammon was quick to realized he fucked up big time

With how much you were cursing mammon, you didn't realize the tears steadily flowing out of your eyes

Mammon quickly walked towsrds you trying to calm you down, he reached out to grab your hand

"DON'T FUCKIN TOUCH ME!" you slapped your hand away and stomped back to your room, locking the door

Leviathan

You didn't mean for it to happen

It was an accident

You crouched down cause of sudden period cramps but when you stood up, using your hand to steady yourself by putting it on the shelf beside you but since you weren't looking you accidentally tipped one of levi's ruri chan figurine

You weren't fast enough to catch it, thus the figurine broke, right in front of you

Levi went to get some hot compress to help with your cramps and it didn't take long for him to return

Upon his arrival, he comes face to face with you hunching in front of the broken figurine

He quickly dashed to the broken figurine

"I'm sorry Levi, i was-"

"MC, DO YOU KNOW HOW RARE THIS FIGURINE AND HOW EXPENSIVE IT WAS" Levi cut you off and his basically screaming in your face

"That's why I'm sorry, i didn't mean to-"

"IT'S NOT ABOUT YOU MEANT FOR IT TO HAPPEN, THE POINT IS, IT'S BROKEN, AND YOU BROKE IT, FUCK!" he cursed glaring at you

You snapped

"THAT'S WHY I'VE BEEN TRYING TO EXPLAIN TO YOU MY SIDE OF THE STORY, BUT YOUR JERK OF AN ASS ALWAYS INTERRUPTS ME, YOU MAY HAVE FORGOTTEN BUT YOU'RE THE ONE WHO DRAGGED ME TO YOUR ROOM, I TOLD YOU I'M ON MY PERIOD AND I JUST WANTED TO LIE DOWN ON MY BED, BUT NO! YOU DRAGGED ME HERE EVENTHOUGH YOU KNEW I WASN'T FEELING WELL "

Snatching the hot compress from his hand, you quickly threw it in a random direction

"I SAID I WAS SORRY, I REALLY DIDN'T MEAN FOR IT TO BREAK, I'LL GET A REPLACEMENT FOR THAT AND YOU BETTER START FINDING A REPLACEMENT FOR A GIRLFRIEND" you said leaving and slamming the door HARD

Satan

You were both out on a date

It was fun not until a demon child was clinging to your leg

You immediately asked the child where his parents were but to no avail, the kid also doesn't know

Now satan wasn't a fan of the kid, he was always trying to scare the kid trying to find the kids parents in the process

The child would cower and hid behind you, this continued for hours and you were getting irritated with satan since because of him the kid is very jumpy

You're already exhausted from the date and you're wearing heels, your patience was growing thin

As if on cue, your last thread of patience snapped when you hear the kid bawling his eyes out

You were currently out in the open and those stares from onlookers waa just adding fuel to the fire

"SATAN! COULD YOU FRICKIN STOP IT" you screeched at your boyfriend and now all stares was on you

"Huh, why are you shouting at me, you're the one who decided to help tge kid find it's parents" he simply stated

"I KNOW IT WAS ME BUT IS IT SO HARD FOR YOU TO NOT SCARE THE KID, YOU'RE NOT EVEN TRYING IN FINDING THE PARENTS, I'M THE ONE DOING THE WORK, THE LEAST YOU COULD DO WAS BEHAVE" you said growing more angry by the minute

"THAT'S YOU'RE PROBLEM, YOU'RE THE ONE WHO WANTED TO PLAY HERO" he mocked

you were quick to grab his collar and glare at him

Satan felt like you were underestimating him to much and that made him fuming as well

By this point you're standing face to face with a Satan in demon form

The kid was crying and onlookers were sure you are bound to die today

Not until the parents came running towards you, taking a hold of their kid, slightly bowing while saying thank you, and immediately dashed out of the scene not wanting to be caught in your argument

The ordeal made you slightly calm down but not enough to actually make peace and wait for your boyfriend

You left him saying that your off to play hero again

This earned a growl and a curse from the demon

Asmodeus

This mf

He invited you to a convention that his attending as well

Take note You weren't a fashionista, you preferred comfortable clothes

You're boyfriend Asmo begged you to come with him

Using his ever so gorgeous puppy dog eyes, you agreed

Now, you knew it was a convention, but you didn't know was that it was a fashion convention

Asmo usually drags you to shopping sales events, so you assumed it's the same place you're going to

You went with a white v neck shirt and a pair of tattered jumpers and, a pair of white shoes to finish off the look

You looked neat and pleasant to the eye and most of all it was comfortable

However as you arrived at the convention, people were wearing flashy, out of the world clothes

Asmo was supposed to be meeting you at the convention since he's one of the organizers and his busy

And when he did see you, you were sure you saw disappointment in his eyes

He sighed

He was wearing an outfit that could rival any clothes in that convention but the expression his wearing was a total mismatch

"MC, what are you wearing?"

"It's clothes Asmo" you replied feeling rebellious since he is to blame for this

He sighed again, he was about to say something when someone came and greeted him

After they exchange greetings, the man was quick to eye you up and down, also clearly not impressed by your outfit

"whos this?" the main inquired, the question directed to asmo

"she's here on an errand for me" Asmo lied without batting an eye

Xcuse me what!

"I see, since your an errand girl could you get me some coffee" the man ordered

Completely feeling humiliated, you snapped

Who cares if people will stare

Let them

"ASMODEUS, I KNOW HOW MUCH YOU LOVE BEING ALL FASHIONABLE AND ALL, BUT DID YOU JUST DENY ME BECAUSE I'M WEARING THIS!" you bursted while pointing to what you wear

A lot of eyes were on you, seeing as how Asmo was starting to go frantic trying to calm you down and get you to shut up

"JUST TO REMIND YOU ASSHOLE, YOU BEGGED ME TO BE HERE, YOUR ALSO THE ONE WHO DIDN'T SPECIFY WHAT KIND OF EVENT THIS IS, IF I KNEE YOU WERE GONNA BE A BITCH ABOUT WHAT I WEAR, I WOULD NEVER HAVE AGREED TO DATE YOU"

Not waiting to hear his response, you quickly turned around ready to leave but Asmo was quick to get a hold of your wrist

"Wait MC I'm sorry, i-"

"Let me go sir, my errand here is done" you said completely leaving him to his thoughts

Beelzebub

Nope

Nuh uh

I won't do mah baby like that

Who could snap at this cinnamon roll

I know i wouldn't

Belphegor

He misunderstood that you were having another guy behind his back

He confronted you about it rather harshly

"Yn, are you cheating on me?" he said in a rather cold tone

And you didn't like that

"what makes you think i am?" you questioned

He explained how you're always smiling at your phone and that you rarely even cuddle up to him

You of course found his reason unbelievably stupid, this caused you to snort

Well he didn't like that either

Asking you what's so funny and starting to grip your wrist real hard

You protest saying it hurts but his not listening at all

"The heck, let go"

"no"

"i said let go, it hurts"

"you've hurt me too, your cheating"

You explained how you were not doing anything behind his back though he wasn't really convinced

"yah Belphegor, i said let go" you said getting really mad with how he assume things and opt to get violent

"DON'T YOU DARE USE THAT TONE ON ME MC"

Well now he looks ready to pounce on you

"THE HECK'S YOUR PROBLEM, ARE YOU ON PUBERTY OR SOMETHING, YOU'RE THE ONE WHO ACCUSED ME FOR SOMETHING I DIDN'T DO AND WHEN I EXPLAINED YOU DIDN'T BELIEVE IT AND NOW YOUR RESORTING TO VIOLENCE, WHAT? YOU'RE GONNA KILL ME AGAIN IS THAT IT?" you snapped rationality completely thrown out of the window

With your booming voice and words he was quick to revert to his demon form

You feel like belphie was really gonna kill you

Good thing beel came rushing in and came in between you two

"You should try dying sometimes, it's thrilling, trust me, i know from experience" you said wanting to be the one who close the curtain of the argument

Here is the part 2 of this

A/N:Hey guys that was quite a long one wasn't it haha well i hope you like it, damn that's a lot of screaming on MC's part huh

Also all credits for the pictures goes to the rightful owners, i just saw them and thought they looked really nice

Masterlist🌻

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heresathreebee · 2 years ago

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Walter "Keys" McKeys | Free Guys (2021) || Group Sex // Overstimulation

Established Relationship (coworkers); 2.3k words; NO BETA/ SELF- EDITED; Swearing, Work-Related Stress, Public Bathroom Sex, Anal Plugs, Overstimulation, Creampie

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Crunch time at Soonami Games was killer on its programmers but especially Keys. He's the type of workaholic who already puts in double the hours of an average person and still proves time and time again that that is only a fraction of his power. He forgets he’s still human and is therefore required to provide maintenance on his body like shower, sleep, eat etc in order to function.

He is getting better at it– for your sake. As long as he clocks off on time and showers before bed every night, he is allowed to wake up as early as he wants to get back to work. You also work at Soonami modeling characters and have started talking shop in your sleep to your boyfriend’s concern (and partial amusement).

“...the rig is fucked, he’s walking like a horse…”

Half asleep, Keys turns his head to find you drooling on your pillow. “...what?”

“...if I catch you again, I'm going to throw you down the job hole…”

Keys snorta as he rubs sleep sand out of his eyes. Ah yes, the job hole. You’ve told him in a few of your work dreams, getting fired involves people either getting ‘sacked’ (hit in the face with a bag of hay) or ‘canned’ (thrown down an endless hole in the middle of the bullpit office). It was funny, but it also meant you were stressing out to the point that work was never off your mind.

Plus, you weren’t wearing your bonnet to bed and he knew how pissed off you got when you had to detangle your hair.

“Babe,” Keys said hoarsely and gently shook your shoulder. “Hey, get up.”

You swat his arm away and roll over but it’s too late– you’re awake now and unlikely to get back to sleep. The best way Keys knows how to get you to relax is sex or a spa day, but neither of you have time for that with a dozen looming deadlines over your heads. He changes into day clothes while you use the bathroom and digs through your shared closet looking for a good belt to use. Instead, he stumbles upon your toy chest which neither of you have gotten to play with in an age. Maybe there’s something in here you two can use to relax.

…

You exit the bathroom with a sigh and start to pull on a new shirt.

“Wait,” Keys slides your shirt back off and hands you a different outfit. “Can you wear this today?”

You glare between him and the floral romper. It’s short on you, with a plunge neckline, flouncy sleeves, and zippable pockets. “Why? Need some eye candy for when you’re slacking off?”

“I never slack off,” he pretends to scold you. Then he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close, a move you can never resist. “I was thinking we could… play a game today?”

“Does this game involve locking Antwon in a closet and taking over the company?,” you ask as you brush your lips against his chin.

“Even better,” he says and dips his head to give you a real, passionate kiss that, realistically, neither of you have time for. “Now put it on. I have one other thing I want you to wear.”

…

Never in a million years would you have expected your mild mannered, code obsessed boyfriend to suggest wearing remote control vibrating buttplugs to work (yes, he has one too. It wasn’t a part of his original plan, but you felt it was only fair). The controller feels heavy in your pocket and you keep adjusting it suspiciously, like a boner you’re trying to hide. Your phone text tone chirps and you look to see a new message.

Keys: Stop touching your hip you look like youre hiding a weapon lol

Annoyed, you turn around to where you know Keys' desk is only to find it empty. A sharp tingle shocks your spine as the plug you’re wearing comes to life and just as quickly disappears again. The girl at the coffee pot next to you stares.

“Sorry,” you chuckle nervously, “ghost walked over my grave.”

Her eyebrows wave and she scrambles away, and you finally find the culprit you were looking for hiding behind a load bearing pillar and muffling his laughter with his hand.

Dickhead, you use text-to-speech and send a message back.

“What did you call me?”

You whip around to find your fucking boss. “I didn’t call you anything, Antwon. I didn’t even know you were there. Do you need something?”

You squeeze your thighs together as Keys turns the plug back on and sets it to a whispering buzz that only you can hear. This fucking toy has some range on it, at least 20-30 feet, you’ll give the creators credit for that. Antwon yammers on about production and deadlines and you respond with the same boring employee drivel about making good progress.

“I want those rigs fixed,” he says and pokes your chest dramatically. It annoys the hell out of you and you have to bite your lip to stop from punching him in the jaw. Especially because the plug has your arousal rising– making your thin underwear sticky and your nipples hard. “Have them turned into me by tonight, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you reply through gritted teeth.

As you are walking back to your desk, you feel the vibe pulse– short short short short, pause, short long, pause, short short short short, pause, short long– then turn completely off. You pull up a wiki page for morse code and try to ignore the needy pulse of your sex and the pleasant pressure of the plug moving once you sit down.

The wiki informs you that your boyfriend says “H A H A”

You glare at him over your screen and watch his self-satisfied smile drop.

…

Keys forgot how competitive you got during simple games. He goes to take a drink of his coffee and yelps as the plug that he’s wearing comes to life on the highest setting possible, loud and strong and borderline painful, forcing him to spill his drink all down his shirt (which thankfully grew cold while it sat on his desk for two hours). Mouser laughs at Keys from the other side of the desk and slaps his knee.

“Man, what the hell is wrong with you, dude?”

“UH, I saw a SPIDER,” Keys face flushes beet red and his cock hardens just before the vibe gradually turns down and off with somehow only the victim as the wiser. “Thought I saw… thought I saw a spider. It’s uh gone now… or it wasn’t uh really there.”

“I’m gonna go get cleaned up,” he sighs and heads off to the bathroom.

Keys tries to catch your eye at your desk, but you pretend to be engrossed in the work on your monitor and he leaves to try and wipe the coffee stains out of his good button up. The vibe resumes, this time at a pleasant bump, bump, bump that is tolerable but would make him walk funny if he moved too fast.

It’s not long before the bathroom door swings open and you appear in the mirror, smug as you caress your greedy hands around the clean parts of his shirt.

“That was uncalled for,” he complains, “I liked this shirt!”

You kiss up and down his neck, paying extra attention to his sweet spots and none to his words. Your hand gives the outline of his cock a gentle squeeze before it slips into his pocket and withdrawals the secondary remote. Keys finishes undoing the buttons on his shirt and takes it off, giving up on getting his khakis cleaned but grateful he wore a black shirt underneath.

“I know you tested these the day we got them,” you hum thoughtfully. “Which setting do you think would be my favorite?” Keys hits the button like he’s already thought about it– always known– and a thrumming sensation which ebbs and flows like a tide fills you. You hum in approval and meld your body to his back, “when you’re right, you’re right.”

Playing this game at work was turning out to be a real production killer. It wouldn’t be long before Antwon’s little yes man comes crashing down on Keys head asking why his typing was at half speed the average. You both need to get your heads in the game, and maybe you’ll just make time for a couple quickies in the shower.

Keys tangles his fingers into yours and leans back to whisper in your ear, “I need to be inside you, right now.”

You fight the urge to moan and pull him into the nearest stall. Once the door is locked, he’s pressing up against you and the wall and kissing you feverishly. Getting Keys riled up before sex always leads to the most satisfying fucks of your life and you cream a little more knowing neither of you are going to last long.

“Fuck. Turn around.” Keys hand coaxes you to face the wall and you both reach down to fix your clothes out of the way. You hold the crotch of your flowy romper and drenched panties aside while he grips himself by the base of his cock and slides in. Your left hands meet at the lip of the divider wall and tangle over one another, you groan simultaneously as he bottoms out in your pussy. His voice in your ear alone almost sends you over the edge. “Fuck, always so ready for me, and still so tight… I’m not gonna be able to pull out, ok?”

You’re already walking around with uncomfortably tacky shorts, what’s one more fluid mixed into the mess? “Ok, ok. Now fuck me, baby…”

Keys pounds into you as much as he can while trying to be quiet. The vibrating plugs pick up the slack and drive you both closer and closer to climax together. It’s just as his right hand is covering your mouth to muffle your pitchy moans that the bathroom door gets kicked open.

“- CAN’T BELIEVE THIS, JERR BEAR, I REALLY CAN’T”

Both of you freeze as you hear Antwon’s voice booming off the walls. The last thing you wanted to be was caught getting dicked down by your boyfriend, who also happens to be Antwon’s favorite programmer, in the middle of the busiest time of the year.

You hear the sink turn on and peek through the gap in the door to see Antwon’s back to you and a bluetooth wireless earbud in his ear. He’s on the phone, not coming to fire you (yet).

“YOU TELL JAMIE LEE CURTIS THAT SHE AND HER DOG ARE UNINVITED TO MY BIRTHDAY PARTY. YES I’M SERIOUS–”

Keys hisses through his teeth and rests his chin on your shoulder. It’s a struggle to stay still, but he’s worried pulling out would be worse. He bites back a groan when he feels your pussy clench on him and your free hand frantically tapping his thigh. He crushes you into the wall to try and convey that he needs you to stay still, but you ignore him and turn your face and whisper shout,

“You left the remote on the counter, you idiot!”

Keys doesn’t even have time to panic as he feels you clench in his arms– this time he can feel the end of your plug, which is pressed into his pelvic bone, as the vibration doubles in intensity and forces you to come instantly.

His hand clamps over your mouth and nose to keep your scream silent, your boss hasn’t left yet. He’s actually gotten closer, as in he has entered the stall next to you. There are not enough expletives in the English language to convey how absolutely fucked the two of you are.

“I’m just saying, Jerr, that if Madonna and Katy Perry can rock cone-shaped brassiers, than so can I…”

Keys releases your face to let you breathe, and due to the endless pulsing of your pussy, he has to bite your shoulder as he comes too, pumping his seed in your warmth that splatters against the floor as he accidentally slips out. His eyes roll back in relief and embarrassment as all it would take to notice the mess is for Antwon to accidentally look down.

“Hey,” the dread voicecame again.

You were laying your head back on Keys’ shoulder, exhausted, but opened your eyes wide when you heard somebody address you from above. Antwon looks down at you from over the wall, his hand inches from where yours and Keys was tangled. Keys looks up too and freezes.

“... While I admire the enthusiasm you two have for kinky office sex–” he points an accusatory finger at you, “save it for after crunch time!”

You both nod stupidly but can’t really move, still in disbelief.

“That means get back to work!”

…

You don’t talk about it until you’re getting out of the car in front of your shared apartment. “I cannot believe we weren’t fired today!”

Keys laughed with you. “I know!”

You got in the apartment and kicked off your shoes, shuffling to the bedroom and flopping down face first.

“Did you ever get the remote back,” Keys asked as he shucked off his clothes.

“Nope,” you said into the comforter, “I tossed the plug into the garbage at lunch. That’s $40 down the drain…”

“At least you could have had some mercy for me,” he said, and peeled his boxers off of his crotch where a few of his loads were drying. “I came so many times I had nothing left to give! It was a ghost load!”

You rolled over like a lazy cat and stretched with an evil laugh. “Good. I loved watching you get up to get another coffee. Legs shaking like a newborn deer.”

“Fuck, you.” He leans over you on his hands and kisses you deeply. “So what do you say? Bath, takeout, bed?”

“We’re calling in sick tomorrow,” you say.

“No way,” he reprimands you, “we’re going to fuck all night after work and then we’ll call out sick on Friday. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Previous | Masterlist | Next: Prince Paul Bath/ Shower Sex & Intercrural Sex

Antwon "I can look past kinky sex on my public property but I can NOT excuse fucking during work hours" LastNameHere

#three bees writing #kinktober 2022 challenge #walter mckeys smut #walter mckeys x female reader #tppkinktober2022 #joe keery character fiction #black reader insert

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writers-blogck · 2 years ago

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A Favor Called ( Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x Reader )

Warning(s): This will go into religion and the ideas of Christianity. Some information may be incorrect as I myself am not a practicing Christian. This should be expected when it comes to the Sandman, or really most Niel Gaiman pieces. Disrespect is not meant but here is a warning for those who may be sensitive to that topic. This will also use the information given in the comics. No big spoilers save for including all of the Endless. There will also be original characters, including the Lower Seven Endless. They will show up later in the story. Reader is Female. Song: Enter Sandman by Metallica

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Title: A Favor Called Description: A century goes by but Morpheus gets out. What is waiting for him on the outside? Pairing: Dream of the Endless [ Morpheus ] x Reader Fandom: The Sandman ( Comics and Netflix Series ) Word Count: 5,358

Previous Chapter: None. Next Chapter: The Pouch Opened Story Index

Dream was locked in a glass orb, laid out like a marble statue. His eyes were narrowed as his arm laid to cover the lower half of his face. To the guards, the man didn't breathe or blink. He didn't eat, he didn't need to do anything. Roderick said he wasn't Death but then...What was he? A devil? Demon? He kept the truth from the basic guards, they needn't know. They instead were left to wonder.

"He's right scary, he is." The rat-like guard spoke, long and thin nose wrinkling up as if he smelled something rotten. Dream never remembered their names. He just identified them based on their appearance. They never stood out. All the same deep in their core. Terrible. Rotten.

"How does he stay so fit when he's trapped in there all the time?" This one was tubbier and more stout in appearance. His nose was upturned and had fat covering his cheeks; he looked like a pig. Dream could only imagine what he would do to the two guards if he got loose. Those thoughts were a comfort on the harder days. Even though he was an immortal being, it didn't make it any easier to deal with the passing days.

"How does he survive without needing to eat? Or needing to use the loo? This man isn't normal, mate. He's a right demon, fuckin' monster. Sleep Paralysis Demon or somethin'. It's why we gotta drink the bean juice and take the pills. So he doesn't possess one of us when we go to sleep." The Rat swirled the black coffee in his mug before taking a swig.

"I think he's a Dracula. He's pale enough to be one. Ain't never tried to put him in sunlight before."

Dream pushed the duo's words out of his mind as he retreated into his thoughts. He knew he had been in here for over twenty years, at the very least. Keeping track of time when you were stuck in the same place day after day was nearly impossible. Rumors of a Second Great War filled the air and for a moment, he thought he might be able to use that to his advantage. But, no, Roderick still took every precaution when dealing with Dream.

Even though Dream wondered if his siblings would come for him, deep within him he knew that he would be ashamed if they did. He never needed their help. He was solitary. He was alone. He didn't need anyone. Yet, here he was, trapped. He just had to remind himself that he could play the long game. Humans die. He would not. If he just waited...

All he had to do was get through these years, which was easier said than done. His mind always would run back to his kingdom and his faithful servants. He would think of the Virtue of Hope who spent more time in his realm than her own. What was happening to them, to his kingdom? He had never been parted from his duties for this long since he was created. He just had to remind himself that he left it in good hands. Lucienne knew what she was doing and Hope was there to help. She had observed his duties so much, she would know what to do.

His thoughts often drifted back to the Virtue of Hope...When all you can do is think, it is hard not to regret past decisions, especially when you were Dream. She would come to his realm to hide and he always pushed her away. She never did anything but be kind to him and Dream would return said kindness with his usual bitterness.

The real question was, where did Hope hide now?

London, 2020

John Constantine owed the Devil a favor. That really was just as bad as it sounded. He had no idea what Lucifer would call him to do but he had been in such a desperate situation to save his sister that he had no other choice than to accept the fallen angel's help. Why did he always get himself in those situations? The ends that always were the last resort? It felt as though that was all he got recently. Nothing liked to go his way and it was quite tiring, to say the least.

Lucifer had gained some honor recently and that had John hoping that whatever the task was, it wouldn't go against his morals too severely. No murdering babies or robbing the elderly. Eh, Lucifer didn't do that type of thing anyway. That was just the Christians creating a monster to scare children. No, the real Devil was much more clever and even had his own rules he would abide by. Demons on the other hand...They had no qualms about hurting children. John tried to push the screaming girl from his mind but no matter what he did, he could never quiet her. A constant reminder of his failures.

He didn't have a clue about what he may be called to do, but he definitely wasn't expecting to see the charismatic man standing there with a young girl, who had to be no older than her early twenties, when he was eventually called. There was a look in her eyes, one of distance and foggy visions. Was she being controlled? His hands clenched in his pockets, mind racing at what he may have gotten himself into. Could he refuse Lucifer and walk out of here alive? He doubted that. Even still, he had boundaries that he didn't like to cross. He hoped that whatever the favor was, it had nothing to do with harming the girl.

The girl wasn't wearing a lot of clothing. Only a silk dress, which John assumed to be a slip, graced her form. Other than that small piece of fabric, her soft skin was on full display. Now John Constantine liked to think of himself as a gentleman in many aspects but even he couldn't help but take in the beauty of the woman standing before him. This was no natural beauty. He had been around enough nonhumans to sense when something was off.

"Hello, Constanteene."

"Constantine."

"Whatever, Constanteene, Constantine, Potato, Potaato- Just listen up, Conman. I need to call upon that favor I'm owed and this is a very important task. It would be to your benefit to do everything correctly from here on out. If you mess this up, I will not hesitate to create a personal hell for you that your worst nightmares couldn't possibly begin to dream up. Do you understand?"

"I have a feeling you'll create my own personal Hell no matter what I do when I end up kickin' that bucket."

"Jonathan, do you understand?"

"Right, I've just got here, mate. I've no bloody idea what's going on." Flicking open his lighter, he placed one of his cigarettes between his lips. He had a feeling that he was going to need one. He turned out to be right.

"What's going on, is that I require your services in becoming a sort of protector, guard, whatever you would like to call it. Either way, I'm calling in my favor, now."

"Guard her? And she is? Don't tell me she's gonna be a future sacrifice or somethin'."

"Listen well. She has many names, but from what I hear, she goes by (Y/N) as the primary title during this current time period. Some have called her Elpis. Others have called her Guan-Yin. Some even like to call her Pandora, though that isn't correct. She may have dealt with the woman but they are not one and the same." Lucifer slowly walked a circle around the still woman. If it wasn't for the slight rise and fall of her chest, John might have believed she was a very realistic statue. It was amazing and terrifying at the same time.

"Excuse me? Mate, that didn't clear a thing up."

"If you would let me finish," The taller man's eyes flashed red before they softened back to their dusty blue as he looked at the girl, "She is a citizen of the Silver City. She is a Virtue, which is the opposite of a Sin. She is Hope."

Hope? Now John had heard a lot of strange things in his life but this was nearing the top. As he blew out a ring of smoke, he did admit to himself that she did seem like a holy being. He had met angels before. Some gave off a sense of fierce loyalty while others had the gracefulness of a swan, but all had an unparalleled beauty. This woman fit into that category just like the rest. Yet, John couldn't feel the same aura that came with Heavenly beings.

"So, an angel?"

"No, well yes, in a way, but high in the ranking. Angels are a rank of Celestial, the same as Archangels or Virtues. You, humans, like to call everything an Angel. Virtues are the highest in power as they can not be replaced. There are only seven in existence and each is just as unique as the other. Father didn't like making creations like that. He always allowed the opportunity for replacement but with the very nature of Virtues, due to them being created from their element, they can not be replaced."

"Right..."

The Devil shook his head, pushing his annoyance to the side. He was just being reminded of why he didn't work with John Constantine that much. He preferred John's twin sister, Johanna, but even he would admit that John was a better choice for this. Not only did he have a favor owed but the man was kinder than his elder sibling. He likes to play it up that he was doom and gloom all the time but Lucifer could easily see past that. Most could if they spent any time with him.

"Think of it like this. All holy beings aren't under the classification angels, though you humans seemed to use the term as a catch-all. Instead, angels are their own type. I, myself, was not an angel but an Archangel before I fell." He grimaced like there was a sour taste in his mouth, "Cherubs, Seraphim, the Powers. All different types of Celestial Beings. But yes, she is an angel if you have to consider it like that."

"Like a square is a rectangle but a rectangle isn't a square."

"What?"

"Nevermind. So, I just have to watch over her? She in danger or somethin'? I don't know how I could do anything more than she could."

"She has lost her powers. They were taken from her."

"Why did-"

"Demons, those that are loyal to me in any way, will offer her no danger. I've informed them that she is off-limits. But there are many things that would love to rid the world of a Virtue, especially Hope. With her loss of power, they may be successful in their attempts. I can not keep her safe without trapping her in my realm which I do not wish to do." Lucifer ran a gentle hand down the side of the girl's face, a look of soft care gracing his features, "She would not do well in Hell, even though I miss her dearly."

"Is she a past bird, then?"

"Oh, no. Nothing like that. No, Hope, she is my baby sister. I was her guardian, after all, Raphael could never truly replace me. Our bond is as strong as before, though I may not remember my time as Samael; what I do remember is the feelings I had for her, the sense of protection. I will not allow our family to ruin her as they did me. She does not deserve that."

"Wait, wait- You said she lost her powers? That means she's human?"

"Not human. Not fully anyway." Lucifer sighed, shaking his head. Constantine tried to ask another question but was interrupted by the other man before he could.

"Do you know this is the first time her feet have ever touched the ground?" This time, the Devil snapped his fingers, and a trench coat, golden in color, that was a near match to Constantine's, appeared in his arms. He draped it gently over his sister's shoulders with a sigh. Every move was filled with a gentleness that John had never seen from Lucifer before.

"Really?" Did that matter?

"Holy beings and the beliefs of purity. You know how it is...But, it is clear to me that she will not do well on Earth by herself. Not only from unnatural forces but from humans as well. I don't know how she will adapt. She will need your protection."

"And can I ask why she's going to Earth?"

"The same reason we all end up on Earth, punishment."

Lucifer stared at the girl with a look of pity in his eyes. It was easy to see that he truly cared for her. Had he gone soft? He hadn't been in her life for so long, why did he have to feel this way? The bond should have split as he fell, just as his wings burned away. It would have been much easier but then, who would you have in your corner when it came to family? It worried him, the times he saw just how alike the two of your situations were. Did your Father set you up just for failure? You didn't have the ego that Lucifer did, no armor against the world.

"So, I have to watch her for, what, a week? Three?"

"Until I say otherwise."

"Shite, how long until that then, mate?"

"Unknown. But what I do know is that this will not be easy. For you or for her."

Lucifer stood in front of the girl and buttoned up the jacket in both an attempt to keep the warmth in and the skin hidden. This was how a brother was supposed to treat his little sister, not what Michael had done. He wanted to rage against Heaven, knowing how they have turned their backs on her. She always did her job! Even the other Virtues allowed this to happen? He was beginning to wonder if he didn't have the entire story. He was picking up everything from second-hand sources.

Pushing the sleeve up on her right arm, Lucifer ran his hand over his sister's wrist. On the pulse point on the inner wrist, he began to burn a symbol. A feather with Angelic script underneath reading Redemption. It seemed like a tattoo but actually, upon closer inspection, was a scar. John winced in sympathy but if the girl felt the pain, she didn't show it.

"Neither of you will remember this encounter. When you awake, you will be traveling partners and no questions will be asked. It will be as if you have been with one another for months. When the time comes, as it surely will, when she will start her penance, this symbol will be vital. It will hold a memory, a strong one that will trigger her acceptance. Just like a bite from the forbidden fruit."

"Wait, wot?! What if I have some questions now about everything-"

"There is no time for that. All that matters is this: Do not disappoint me, John Constantine."

The Dreaming, 415 BCE

"Come on, Morpheus, you can't be serious with this." You lay on your back, staring at the strange creation in front of you. You had seen quite a lot of things in your time of existence but you would never get used to the dreams and nightmares that Morpheus would create. He had a big imagination, that's for sure. Even looking at it from your upside-down point of view, you could see Dream's touch. Anything your Father came up with never could compare.

"You can't keep making your nightmares handsome, okay? You're gonna give people a complex. Like that man Desire cursed, Oedipus?"

"He has teeth instead of eyes. How is he handsome?" His eyes narrowed as he looked at the blonde creation. Sometimes he could be so dense, "And Oedipus had sexual relations with his own mother. I don't see how that's relevant to what we're dealing with in the present moment."

Using your wings to push yourself off the rock you claimed as a chair, you ended up doing a strange backflip before getting back to your feet. The fog dispersed around you as you landed with ease, revealing the dark gray rock that made up this strange area of the Dreaming. You called it Dream's Workshop, though he insisted it had a proper name. Morpheus let you watch him at work while you worked on your own duties, knowing how you preferred to be with someone rather than alone. It took a lot of effort for you to carve a place in his dark heart but you had time. If you had anything, it was time.

Each step you took seemed to only glance over the ground as if you were floating above the rocks naturally; you looked weightless. With a simple wave of your hand over the creature's "eyes", a dark piece of cloth covered the one obvious indicator that the creature was a nightmare. Now he looked like a normal human would, though admittedly more attractive. His face still was all sharp edges and harsh curves, his smile with teeth like a military graveyard. Was Morpheus so blind that he couldn't see when he made something attractive?

"See? Might as well just call him Adonis."

"It doesn't matter what he looks like," Morpheus clasped his hands behind his back, stopping to look at the nightmare's new profile. He didn't want to admit it but he did enjoy the look of the blindfold. It hid what was frightening and would allow it to be a surprise for whoever this nightmare would haunt. Some nightmares were more monster based while others were closer to humanoid shapes. The younger children were mostly scared of monsters under their beds, but their nightmares became more abstract as they grew older. Failure, loneliness- Dream had to be more creative with his creations when the humans got older. With this nightmare, he intended to use it for adults who have fears of not having control as well as the unknown. So many couldn't handle the feeling of being helpless...Perhaps he should send this nightmare to those that made others helpless, allowing them to feel what they wrought for a change. He did like karmic revenge.

"I don't know. You don't want your dreamer to be scared and attracted at the same moment." You teased, crossing your arms over your chest, "That will be very confusing~. But, he looks good. Teeth for eyes, he could bite you in three different places at the same time! I guess they all would be near each other since, obviously, they still are just on the face. I bet his nightmare would be the ones where you lose your teeth."

"Hmph."

"What will you call him?"

"The Corinthian."

"After the town?"

"Yes, the one where crime runs rampant."

"Hm...It fits," Moving forward, you tossed your arms over Morpheus' shoulders to drape yourself lazily against him. You knew that his face would scrunch up, pretending he didn't like your touch. It had taken centuries for you to even get him to accept any touch and still, he would happily deny it to this day. Even still, you swore that you felt him lean into your touch a few times...He couldn't hate it all the time. But, you kept your mouth shut, knowing he would only lash out if you brought it up. He would give you the silent treatment for decades. You had already experienced that after you played around with his raven, Lucienne. Boy had he been upset when he found you. Though you hadn't done anything wrong, he was just a spoiled sport! Lucienne hadn't even minded...

"Do Nightmares ever dislike what they have to do?"

"I don't care enough to ask." With a hum, Morpheus fixed the blindfold that covered the Corinthian's eyes. He couldn't have his nightmare blindfolded with a cloth tied off with a bow. It didn't scream frightening. A basic knot would do, "They are necessary for humans to work through issues while still being able to wake up, safely. The nightmares have work to do, which, by the by, shouldn't you be working on your own duties instead of bothering me while I complete mine?"

With a small whine, you stretched out your wings and flew up a few feet forward to face Morpheus. With a flick of your wrist, you gestured to the collection of fireflies that was flying next to where you had been laying, "I am working, just so you know. Do you not see my own creations? These are the hopes of children if you must know. At least, some of them anyway."

While Dream could make whatever he wanted, you had to follow a few more rules. Working for the Big Man himself, your Father, he liked everything to be exactly how he wanted. Part of that was everyone doing their jobs and if you weren't, someone might take your place. Luckily, you were in one of the irreplaceable ones, being part of the Seven Virtues. You and your siblings weren't angels, per se, you were Virtues. You were your own type of being. You were all Celestials. It was true that Angels were the most populous and visited the humans the most, but that didn't mean you were all Angels

The seven of you, the Virtues, had your individual jobs and tasks assigned to you. One of your main personal jobs was creating the essence of Hope and finding different ways of spreading it throughout Earth. Sometimes you put it in animals, sometimes you put it in plants, and sometimes it was just a certain smell. Depending on the human, hope could be found in many different things. Some could pull essence simply from the air while others needed a bit more help.

Fireflies were your favorite. They had been your own creation, the one being on this Earth that you made. Your Father allowed all seven of the Virtues to make one animal when they were old enough and you ended up creating the firefly. You based it on one of your good memories of being a young fledgling. Samael would stand over your crib and entertain you by making lights with his fingers. That was a long time ago and Samael...He wasn't Samael anymore. He fell. But, you made the fireflies in honor of that memory. You think your Father knew that and gave the little bugs a short lifespan because of it. He had been your Father's favorite and when he left, your Father took it hard. You heard Samael went by a different name now but didn't know it...You didn't know if you would ever see him again. You had a feeling that no one told you his name in fear that you would try to find him.

Being a Virtue could be difficult. They were looked at highly by the other Celestials and were expected to do the best. The only group that had any sort of authority over the Virtues were the Seven Archangels as well as Metatron. All seven of you were created just before humans, being a strange unique creation of your Father. Only seven of you existed...You weren't part of the hierarchy of Angels or the main grouping. You weren't Angels after all. The Virtues were special, just like the Endless. The biggest difference was that you lived in The Silver City and your domain itself was past the gates. Truth be told, it could be suffocating when you knew your Father had someone watching you at all times. Seven Virtues, Seven Archangels. One was always spectating.

Perhaps that was one of the reasons you spent so much time in the Dreaming. You knew your Father couldn't send anyone into their realms, a deal he had originally made with Night and Time but had apparently been passed down to their children. The first time you ever ended up in the Dreaming, you had snuck in. Well, was it sneaking in if it was an accident? Either way, that was a chaotic story for another time. For now, with a lot of hard work and determination, you had convinced Morpheus to allow you to spend time in his realm as long as you promised not to mess with anything he was doing. The tale of how you met to where you had gotten to now was a very interesting one, you had to admit that. A Virtue and an Endless being friends? Unheard of. Well, Morpheus would say it still was unheard of but you insisted the two of you were friends. You had even grown close to his sister, Death.

"Bugs?"

"You know that they are so much more than that!" You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest in defiance at Morpheus' words, "I have done a good amount of work today."

"I have a feeling your siblings would care to argue otherwise."

"Well, then they can come and tell me that themselves but for now, I think that I deserve a good break."

"I swear John, if you ate all the chocolate flapjacks again!"

"I did not-!"

"John!"

"I swear, love!"

John knew what it was like to have an older sister. He would bet this was what it was like to have a younger one. Annoying, never listening to you, always bugging you for this or that. Yup, that seemed about right. He didn't get how you could already have this much energy this early in the morning. This was why he was so against you drinking coffee at any point during the day. You already were filled with enough energy for both of you. Adding any caffeine to that just made it ten times worse. He didn't need to learn that lesson more than once.

"You know I prefer a brew for breakfast." He walked into the kitchen to see you standing there, all legs and way too much optimism for the world. John could admit that you were an attractive lady and perhaps in other situations, a one-nighter might have been in the cards. But, with you under his protection and the bond forming between you two, it all changed. To be honest, Constantine couldn't remember what exactly he was protecting you from or why but knew you were in danger. You were his little buddy and he had to keep you safe. You were special to the mage, after all.

"That's a problem we'll talk about on another day." You hummed as you placed the frozen breakfast food in the toaster. He didn't understand why you liked sweets so much. He was more of a savory guy himself.

John lazily moved from where he was leaning to taking a seat at the small two-person table. Most mornings would start like this. He would drink his morning pint while you had whatever sweet treat you decided to ruin your body with that day. He would grumble whenever you tried to talk to him, spitting out some excuse of it being too early or how he had a hangover. You never listened.

"Whatever you say, darlin'."

Piling the flapjacks onto your plate once done, you made a stack of four of the sweet treats. Adding probably too much syrup than was good for you, you plopped yourself down in the seat across from John. The two of you were in a small flat in London, one that was provided to John by someone. Someone you didn't know. There was a question of whether John really knew who was paying the rent or not. At least, you were questioning it.

"Can you teach me some more today?"

"Teach you what? How to get a job and stop leeching off of me so you can go live on your own? That sounds like-"

"No! Magic, you Muppet!" Constantine couldn't help but chuckle at your pronunciation of the word. Most of the time, you sounded American, but for certain words you learned from him, well, you kept the British twang on those. It made an interesting accent and never failed to amuse John.

"Why should I? Hm?"

"Because...A demon might show up when you're asleep and I might need to defend myself." For some reason that John Constantine couldn't remember, that seemed more likely a threat than how you were saying it. It made a shiver run down his spine. It had been a nice morning until you reminded him of the danger you were in. He hated having the knowledge that for some reason, you were being hunted but by what and for what reason were still a mystery. He hated that unknowing. It made everything just that more dangerous.

"I don't know, mate. Is that a good enough reason to ruin my afternoon? I could be out at the pub, you know. Maybe finding a bird to bring back to the flat? Have a nice night with a nice lady."

"You wish!" Shoveling flapjacks in your mouth, you kicked the man under the table lightly in annoyance. A groan slipped past his lips and he set his beer on the table to keep from spilling it. He was such a drama queen at times!

"Whatever, we have to meet up with Johanna anyway." You continued, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk's, "So I bet I can just ask her to teach me a few more things. She'd be happy to."

"She'd be happy to have 'ye in her bed as well! I've told ya, you need to be careful around her! Bless my sister's heart but that woman can be like a dog with two dicks. She'll teach 'ye magic alright if she thinks it might getcha in her bed at the end of the day."

Since Johanna didn't spend as much time with you, she didn't develop the same type of feelings that John did. To her, you would never be like a sibling. You always would be open for some fun. Sometimes John thought she messed with you just to get to him. He couldn't help that he was protective of you...

"You do this just to annoy me, right?" You pointed an accusatory fork in his direction, "Johanna isn't that bad. We get along great."

"I didn't say you two didn't. What I am sayin' is that she likes to play a dangerous game and trust me when I say you have enough of that in your life already."

"But, 'yer right," He continued, "Jo will be expecting us."

"What does she need help with this time?"

"An exorcism. Must be a pretty bad one too if she needs two hands on the wheel to get the bugger out. Either way, you listen to me this time, alright? No makin' more problems when we are there to fix 'em. Don't need you being cheeky on me. Got it?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I hear ya. No fun for me. Stay back and just watch, keep out of the way."

"Right on the money, love."

"...Wait, are we gonna be paid for this?!"

"Bloody Hell..."

"Can I bring my sand with us?!"

#the thing with feathers #the sandman #the sandman x reader #sandman x reader #dream x reader #dream of the endless x reader #Morpheus x You #lord morpheus x reader #dream of the endless #destiny of the endless #death of the endless #destruction of the endless #desire of the endless #despair of the endless #delirium of the endless #delight of the endless #john constantine #johanna constantine #the corinthian

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noteguk · 4 years ago

Text

be quiet | jjk | m | drabble

[ ! ] this is a drabble for bad influence. It can be read as a stand-alone.

— summary; in which jungkook is the best at picking the worst possible place for a quickie.

— contents and warnings; smut, pwp, the endless adventures of badboy!jk x goodgirl!reader, enemies with benefits, public sex (library), doing the nasty in the theology section, dirty talk, unprotected sex, mid-sex arguments, jk is a mean lil shit (nothing new), kind of dom!jk, creampie, oral (female receiving), cum eating, cum play

— words; 3.1k

— author’s note; this was requested by anon and I thought it would be a nice thing to drop before the angsty parts begin 😌 also, for time context, this happens a bit after “bad behavior”

You were pretty sure that Jungkook had chosen that section on purpose. Because he hated you, that’s why.

Never once in your life had you wondered so far into the university’s library, past the known biology and chemistry shelves, and into the dusty alleyways of the humanities courses. And that was the shameful reason why you didn’t even know that there was a religious section in the first place.

The realization was obvious if you actually stopped to think about it: there were so many classes related to theology in your university that it would be ridiculous not to have books on that. And yet, you couldn’t help but feel like the old, hardcover bible was staring at you in endless disappointment as Jungkook turned you around and threw the hem of your dress over your hips.

“Shhhh, baby, keep it quiet,” he shushed you after a small whimper had escaped your lips, his palms spreading over your ass cheeks. “Someone’s gonna hear you.”

Because Jungkook hated you (as previously established), he instantly contradicted himself with a loud slap against your ass.

“You’re such a fucking idiot,” you hissed, fumbling closer to him as he tugged your underwear to the side. The cold air hit your wet folds instantly, spreading goosebumps through your skin. Jungkook was an expert at noticing the most timid, basic ways that your body reacted to his touches, so the clear asymmetry between your rough speech and the shivers running through your body was enough to make him snicker. “Keep it down. This isn’t funny.”

Jungkook chuckled behind you, the sharp noise of his zipper opening sounding like a gunshot inside that quiet building. “No. It’s hilarious, actually.”

You sighed, praying to all the books around you that no one would stumble across that erotic spectacle. You had no idea if there was another living soul wandering around the library so late — in fact, the place was like thirty minutes away from closing and you were positive that the librarian was already dozing off on the front counter when you arrived, so she was probably balls deep in REM sleep by that point. There was no one cramming for midterms, no night owls to interrupt the two of you and, just to top it all off, it was a fucking Friday. The library was so empty that you didn’t even know why you went to that place.

Okay, that was a lie. You went there because Jungkook had booty called you — yeah, yeah, boo-hoo, shame and disgrace — but, in your defense, you honestly thought he was just in desperate need for some extra help with his project (which was what he had initially told you). Turns out, “extra help” in Jungkook Dictionary didn’t mean the academic one. It meant that he was pathetically hard and he wanted somewhere to stick his dick in (instead of doing it like a normal person and using his hand).

Regardless, your position was equally embarrassing. You could’ve just walked away when you realized his true intentions, and not followed him into the theology section of the library, for fuck’s sake. You really needed to start exercising some self love and put some limits in that chaotic situationship before you got yourself in serious trouble.

Still, all those mental promises turned into silence when you felt his fingers playing with your folds, teasing their way between them. “So fucking wet,” Jungkook’s horniness dripped from his voice like honey, so soft and deep that got your knees buckling, back arching so he could reach your heat better. “Such a needy girl. Always begging for cock.”

“I didn’t beg for anything,” you weren’t in the mood to deal with his bullshit; looking over your shoulder just so you could stare him down. Somewhere along your messy make-out session and the Bible-induced guilt, Jungkook had already moved his pants and underwear halfway down his thighs, his cock standing erect and proud. His timing was fantastic when he was actually interested in something. “You’re the one that can’t keep it in your pants.”

He scoffed. “Don’t ruin the mood.” Jungkook punctuated his sentence with the plunging of two of his fingers inside your pussy, making a surprised whimper fall from your mouth — which you suppressed a second too late. “And of course I can’t, not when you’re dressed like this.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the pleasure that started to build up at the pumping of his fingers in and out of you. “My knee-level dress is neither sexy nor an open invitation, you troglodyte.” You had chosen to wear that dress because it was a deliciously warm afternoon, not because you wanted to get railed while staring at religious texts. Jungkook, however, seemed to stare at your choice of clothing like he was looking at an “all you can eat” bouffet. You groaned. “But if you’re gonna do it, can you rush? I don’t wanna get caught.”

It was Jungkook’s turn to roll his eyes, a sigh escaping his lips as his digits left your heat. You knew he’d tease you endlessly if you didn’t say that, and you two were on a tight schedule. “You never do,” he mumbled.

“Duh,” you said, watching as his hand curled around his cock, pumping it a few times. You placed your own hands on the shelves and refused to look at the books any longer. “I have a future, you know. Don’t wanna get expelled halfway through the—”

“Shut up,” he interrupted you, holding onto your hips. Jungkook aligned himself with your entrance, coating his crown with your wetness and grunting at the sensation. “Fuck. Don’t wanna talk about your stupid high marks right now.”

Jungkook made his point clear with a swift roll of his hips, his thick length gradually entering your pussy. You bit down on your lip, closing your eyes as you marveled at the aphrodisiac sensation of his cock opening you up. “Shit,” you moaned — a whispered, breathy moan that wiped all your fierceness away. “You’re so — fuck — so annoying.”

“I said shut up,” Jungkook hissed, his cock hitting deep inside you with a strong hit of his hips against yours. You could feel him everywhere, mercilessly pushing his way inside your tight walls and stretching them wide for him.

Your eyes instantly fell shut, eyebrows raising as he started to set a rhythm, moving in and out of your soaked heat. The sounds of your bodies meeting was dirty and, worst of all, it was super perceptible to any one passing by — however, in typical Jungkook magic, you quickly forgot about most of your worries. “Oh my… Jungkook,” you gasped, feeling his grasp on your skin grow tighter at the uttering of his name. “Someone’s… someone’s gonna hear us.”

But you had successfully managed to piss Jungkook off, which was a terrible sign in that specific (public) situation. “Shit, you’re always like this,” he groaned, raising the force of his thrusts. A desperate moan died on your throat at the feeling of his cock drilling in and out of you, your breath shallow. That couldn’t be good. “Can’t stop fucking talking.”

Thinking was starting to get difficult, and speaking was even worse. “That’s not what I—”

Another whimper broke your sentence, your trail of thought long forgotten, and he used that opening to his advantage. One of Jungkook’s hands slithered from your hip to the front of your body, moving between your breasts before, at last, settling on your neck. There was no strength on his actions when he pulled you backwards, making your back press against his chest. “Why can’t you understand when I tell you to be fucking quiet, uh?” His voice was a rough growl close to your ear, filled with so much hunger that you almost lost your balance. Before you did, however, the tap of two of his fingers on your lips made your focus shift. “Do both of us a fucking favor and put your mouth to good use.”

For the first time that night, you were obedient. Without hesitation, you parted your lips so his fingers could move inside your mouth, a deep exhale leaving his chest once you started sucking on them; muffling your whimpers.

“That’s it, fuck,” he praised, his momentaneous anger slipping away from his grasp. You could feel Jungkook throbbing inside you every time you swirled your tongue around his digits, his length splitting you open like no one else could. “You’re so fucking tight. The only reason why I don’t stuff your mouth full of my cock right now is because this pussy is too good.”

You clenched around him, tried to say something that sounded like gibberish with his fingers still in your mouth. Amazingly so, Jungkook understood what it was.

“Are you gonna cum, baby?” He asked, breathless. You could only nod, your body bouncing up and down with the force of his precise thrusts. “Yeah?” He chuckled. “You know, I should just leave you like this, see if you learn to shut up for once.”

“Pfflease, no,” you struggled to get out.

“No? Now you listen to what I have to say?” Jungkook kept teasing you, watching as your initial petulant attitude was washed away. Doing that to you seemed to be a habit that he couldn’t let go, no matter how hard he tried. There was something about the way you fumbled and whimpered under his grasp that inflated his ego more than anything. “You only listen when I have you like this. Don’t you think that’s funny?”

Jungkook pulled his fingers out of your mouth, using that hand to press your body closer to his; tattooed arm wrapped in an iron grip around your waist. “Sorry,” you didn’t even know why you were apologizing at that point; you were just trying to grasp at anything that could bring you some sort of salvation. Maybe if you tried to appease his pestering spirit, he wouldn’t be so cruel when it came to your release. “Jungkook, please.”

“Please what?” He asked, his breath ragged against your ear; sounding like he was almost getting lost in your pussy.

“Please let me cum, please,” you begged. You didn’t know how he managed to do it: to make your entire personality crumble down into a desperate, needy mess with little to no effort. He knew just the right buttons to push; just the right way to fuck you. It was a dangerous game that you were playing and the score clearly wasn’t in your favor.

“I’ll think about it.” He groaned, a particularly loud moan ripping itself from his throat at another hash buckle of his hips. He was fucking your so well that you couldn’t even remember where you were for a second, all inihibitions pushed aside as your mind turned into a hazed, disconnected mess. “First, be a good girl and let me fill you up.”

You nodded desperately, not trusting yourself to say anything else. The heat in your stomach was building up at a worrisome speed, threatening to spill over at any given second, and yet you didn’t think it would happen quick enough.

Just as you expected, Jungkook was cumming a few thrusts later, spilling himself inside your pussy as he groaned against your shoulder. “Fuck, baby,” he was fighting for air, trying to keep his moans as quiet as he could manage them. And yet, when his mouth right next to your ear, you could hear with divine clarity the beautiful, airy sighs he gifted you as he continued to fuck you through his high. “Take it, come on. Fuck.”

You were almost pleading for your own body to hush and allow you to cum before Jungkook pulled away but, once again, you weren’t that lucky. You were left with shaky legs as he removed himself from your heat; feeling awfully empty as he swirled you around before crashing his mouth against yours in a messy kiss.

Yes, Jungkook fucked you like no one else could, but kissing him managed to be even more heavenly sometimes. Time and time again, he would surprise you with kisses that left you seeking for air; the slow drag of his tongue against yours matching perfectly with the way his hand cupped your cheek, thumb delicately caressing the skin. It was the eye of a hurricane, the tranquil skies before the storm hit, and you could get lost in it with such ease that it scared you sometimes.

But then he pulled away, and the magic left you just as quickly as it had arrived. “J-Jungkook, I didn’t—“

“Shh, baby, I know.” Another tender kiss against your lips, and his mouth moved to your jaw, nibbling on the skin. “Gonna clean you up, princess. Don’t worry.”

Brain too overwhelmed to react, you were left speechless as Jungkook trailed a path of sloppy kisses down your neck, sending shivers down your spine before, at last, getting down on his knees before you. A question got trapped in your throat, rapidly forgotten, when he raised one of your thighs and placed it over his shoulder. “Hold this up for me.” He signed at the hem of your dress, and you did as he requested, pulling the fabric to the level of your breasts. “That’s my girl.”

A shivering sigh danced on your tongue as you waited for him to move, his eyes eagerly taking in the way his release dripped between your folds, mingling with your own wetness. Jungkook loved to watch his work. “So pretty,” Jungkook mumbled, as he always did; sounding like he was trapped in a daydream. Like you weren’t actually supposed to hear that. “Always so pretty for me.”

You got lost in his praise for exactly two seconds before he was leaning in and pressing his mouth against your heat. Your hips buckled forward, barely held in place by his strong arms around your thighs. “Jungkook,” you called his name, making his dark eyes snap towards yours. His tongue prodded against your opening once, twice, teasing your pussy a few times before he licked his path up your slit, lips wrapping around your clit. “God, so good.”

Jungkook hummed against your heat, lapping between your folds like he was a starved animal, not caring about the fact that his own cum was mixed with your arousal. You were starting to consider that maybe he had a bit of an oral fixation, because you never saw him so focused as when he had his face buried between your thighs; his tongue playing with your sensitive spots so eagerly that you couldn’t help but whine out his name.

“Oh— Fuck,” you whimpered, feeling as that familiar pressure started to build on the base of your spine. Your hands were sweaty, clenching onto the fabric of your flowery dress as Jungkook continued to moan and lick his way around your pussy. “Fuck, I’m so close.”

Jungkook was looking up at you through the thick curtain of his messy hair, his devilish eyes sparking up in a silent dare for you to make a mess on his tongue. At the same time that he told you to keep quiet, you knew that he got off when you were loud — especially in a place like that, where the two of you could get caught. He was a fucking demon when he wanted to be, and he seriously didn’t have any trouble dragging you to hell along with him.

The worst part was that you liked it. You liked it since the very first time he had you, liked the way he took your precious control away from you. You liked when he had you like that: a shivering, desperate mess hanging by a thread; dwelling in the fantastic sensation of his wet muscle prodding your entrance, fucking it open as he stared up at you like he could eat you whole.

It was always the sight of Jungkook like that — between your thighs, eating you out like you were his favorite sweet — that pushed you over the edge. You pressed the back of your hand against your mouth, muffling your needy cries as you finally reached your high, his tongue still playing with your clit as you came down. Jungkook groaned as a small wave of your arousal dripped on him, his mouth expertly cleaning it up, just like he had promised.

“S-Stop,” you whimpered, a violent shiver overtaking your muscles as you started to feel the effects of your sensitivity. “Too much.”

After a final stroke of his tongue against your slick, Jungkook tugged your panties back in place and removed your thigh from his shoulder before, finally, he moved back to his feet. Your hand, weak, let go of the fabric and allowed your dress to collapse back into place, covering the mess between your legs.

He smirked at your overwhelmed, fucked-out state as he tugged himself back inside his pants. The sound of his zipper was once again a noisy interruption, which brought along a new wave of panic as you remembered your location.

You grabbed Jungkook’s wrist, twisting it around so you could look at his watch. “We have five minutes until closing time.” You sighed heavily, looking up at him with your typical irritated stare. His magic didn’t last for long, after all. “Why are you always like this?”

“Like what?” Jungkook raised one eyebrow, unable to hide the entertainment in his voice as he watched your expression. He ran one hand through his dark hair, pushing it back. “Incredibly handsome? Charismatic? Good at everything? Including eati—”

“I was going to ask why do you have the inherent need to defile religious places, but whatever helps you sleep at night,” you interrupted. “By the way, this,” you pointed between you two, “is not happening again. So I hope you had a good last time.”

Jungkook chuckled, holding your chin with his fingers. “This is like the third time you’re saying that, baby.” He pulled you in for a quick kiss, barely a tender press of his lips against yours. “But whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Check out the rest of the bad influence collection!

Taglist: @youurkryptonite @taehyungieskith @fan-ati--c @btstrasht @crazy4myself @sashimi-mochi @ft-multi @kooafraid @dianaaviny @ggukkieland @cryinginmypromdress @kissestothesky @imluckybitches @gyukult @jinsalpaca @0901-1230

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constellarations · 4 years ago

Text

when you come home with a stray animal

pairings: xiao, diluc, venti, childe (separate) x gn!reader

warnings: not proofread, childe's real name

notes: first writing post on this blog ? ? ?. also the dog in diluc's has no gender

XIAO ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

stares at you blankly when you appear with a cat cuddled up in your arms

mortals these days...

he's very. neutral. no opinion, blank face mr. adeptus as always!!

that is, until you oh-so coincidentally have to leave for a commission, leaving xiao alone with that. thing. (cat)

he stares at it, daring it to make a move.

obviously it doesn't. xiao's gaze is very scary, even to animals

"tch, i don't get why [name] likes you so much." xiao says as he crouches down to get a closer look at the feline, unfazed as its pink nose brushed up against his own

to adepti, the term 'cute' was highly unheard of. and to xiao? the closest thing to cute was you

he'd never tell you that, though. nope! absolutely not! the thought makes him writhe in cringe!

Gazing uninterestedly at the cat you had brought home after adventuring in Mondstadt, it was safe to say that Xiao was not amused.

Not only did both you and him have very busy schedules, what were cats even supposed to eat?! Fish? Meat? Grass?

The Yaksha grumbled under his breath, cursing the heavens for leaving him alone with this cat as he'd much rather it be you in its stead.

"Meow," It spoke.

"No," Was all Xiao replied with. He had no time for this, whether it be cat or human interaction, the Adeptus had duties to fulfill! Demons to slay!

"Meooow?"

". . ."

this cat was just. existing. yet somehow, it really got on his nerves

"what do you want?" xiao queried, paying no mind that he was. in fact. speaking to a cat

"meow."

"what?"

"mew."

"???"

xiao just stays there, eyes knit in confusion as the purple rhombus on his head wrinkles in deep thought. deciphering the meaning of this cat's wise words, you come home from your commission to the sight of xiao trying to communicate with a cat

"eh? xiao? are you talking to the cat?"

"what? no. of course not, you mortals think so lowly of us adepti," xiao clicks his tongue and crosses his arms, looking away with an embarrassed expression as the cat sitting besides him clearly says otherwise

"is that so?"

"are you doubting the words of an adeptus?"

"nope!"

you were in fact doubting the words of an adeptus.

DILUC ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

doesn't really pay much attention to the dog you brought home

of course, diluc's house is huuge! it's no wonder he wouldn't notice a dog wandering around. obviously, he's aware it's a stray, but he doesn't really... care? i mean, he cares because you like it. but otherwise, this dog is of no substance to him

do not. i repeat, do not leave it up to him to name the dog. he'll name it something like "bob" because that's all he could think of

now, diluc starts to notice the dog when you begin bringing it along with you on your dates with him. is that weird? to have a dog thirdwheel his date with you? uh, yeah, it is. diluc doesn't know how to feel about a dog taking up his lover's attention more than him.

"diluc! isn't koko so cute?" you exclaimed, ruffling the dog's head cheerfully as the dog barked in response to its name. koko, koko was a weird name, diluc must admit, but it did sound cute

"yes," what was he supposed to say? '[name], i feel like you're dating koko instead of me now]'???

noticing your lover's hesitant reply, you were quick to acknowledge how stiff diluc was around koko. and it was because of this that you came up with the elaborate, master plan!

"Diluc, are you free?" You peeked in the doorway, observing the typhoon's mounds of paperwork and endless array of business deals, all that were either rejected or accepted were sorted neatly into piles.

"It depends," Diluc responded absentmindedly, "what do you need, [Name]?"

"Can you walk Koko today?"

The pen stopped moving, vermilion eyes trailing up to gaze at you in disbelief.

"Me?"

"Yep!"

"Why not the maids?" Diluc wasn't opposed, per se, he was just shocked that you would leave such a job to him. Maybe you didn't enjoy walking Koko as much as he assumed.

"Because I want you to do it!"

the male sighs, conflicted over how your words sway him so easily. of course, he agrees, not knowing what else to say

after he finishes his paperwork and before his nightly duties diluc grabs a leash and takes koko out for a little walk around the winery

(not mondstadt because he has an image to uphold)

honestly? he enjoys it a little. going out for fresh air that doesn't involve battling is in fact, very, very relaxing.

now. after his very first peaceful walk with koko, diluc will begin to appreciate the dog more; bringing home dog toys and different treats, the dawn winery head has now become very soft for an animal

OH!! and diluc sometimes sleeps with koko on his chest!!! so cute

whenever you're out for too long diluc definitely hugs koko in your stead... koko is very fluffy and warm and you love koko so diluc loves them too!!

VENTI ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

let's just say you brought home a cat.

actually, if you brought home a cat, there would be no home anymore. venti would sneeze the literal roof off your house

so put the cat back, bb. it's okay, you don't need it... not anymore... not when you need a house...

"[Name] is that a... a... cat?!" Venti gasped, standing on top of a kitchen counter as he acted as if the cat had contracted one of the deadliest diseases.

"Get it out!" He yelped, waving his hands around as his nose got redder and redder, sneezes leaving his lips as you sighed.

CHILDE ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

i saw this hc that childe was terrible around animals and i 100% agree

the moment you bring home a dog, it starts barking at the sight of childe. and no, not like you childe simps barking, its yapping, wanting to get out of the harbinger's presence right away

"[name]? who's this little puppy?" slurring his words like a baby, childe smiled cheerily before crouching down to pet the dog, only for it to bite his hand

". . . uh, i found it."

exchanging a staring contest with each other, childe's bright smile dimmed ever so slightly, a close-eyed expression indicating that "if [name] hadn't brought you home, i'd kill you."

with this dog's existence, it doesn't let childe anywhere near you. and because of that, he hates it. when they think you're not looking, childe and the dog have a piercing staring contest as if to say "what are you going to do? huh?"

of course. they come to a peaceful resolution when a treasure hoarder decides to invade your personal space bubble. obviously, childe could make waste of the good-for-nothing punk, but stepping back with a grin, he let the dog do its work!

cheering in the background, the harbinger was very impressed with the dog's display of [name] protection!

and this. this is the birth of a new friendship.

"Ajax?" You blinked, confused at the way the Harbinger held himself proudly, hands on his hips as the dog sat beside him, wagging its tail.

"That's me!"

"What are you doing?"

"Protecting you!"

"What protecting are you doing?"

The ginger pointed at himself and then at the dog.

Oh.

He trained the dog to become a guard dog.

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beels-burger-babe · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! I saw that requests are open, if it's not a problem could i request Satan reacting to MC coming to him with new books every time they hang out because they want him to read them out loud since they have a short attention span? Like, Satan would be reading said book while MC is drawing or doing something else.

I have adhd and reading books that are not digital is a nightmare for me, so him reading out loud would be pretty relaxing.

Btw it's up to you if you wanna do headcanons or a oneshot!

ABSOLUTELY!!! So this is actually my first request and I'm super excited because as someone who also has ADHD I can totally relate! I hope you like it!

Too Still, Too Quiet

GN!MC with ADHD Summary: Satan notices that MC seems to have a hard time hanging out with him; he's determined to get to the bottom of the issue and find a solution.

After living in the House of Lamentation for nearly a year, you've grown accustomed to the many quirks that came with living with the seven Lords of the Devildom. You had gotten close to the brothers, and as they picked up on your symptoms for your ADHD, they each found their own ways of being helpful. Lucifer had always known, as it was written on your file, and made a point of sending you subtle reminders throughout the day to keep you organized and on task. He brushed it off saying that it merely prevented him from having to go after you later on if you forgot or did something incorrectly. Mammon was no stranger to having a hard time prioritizing and staying focused and took pride in lending you some of the different tools he used to fidget with. After all, his human deserved the best, and you couldn’t get any better than using something that belonged to the great Mammon. Leviathan’s room provided a relaxing atmosphere with just enough stimulation to keep your brain satisfied enough to focus on your school work and tasks. The sounds of the aquarium provided a fantastic back ground noise, and Levi always took caution in wearing his headphones when he gamed if you were working in his room to not add to the distractions around you. Asmodeus had a good eye for when you were growing too frustrated by the regular chaos that tended to fill the House of Lamentation and would pull you aside to his room for some self-care to help calm you down. There was nothing like a head message and face mask from Asmo as he happily gossiped about the latest drama in The Fall to help ground you. Beelzebub, on the other hand, was great at noticing when you were starting to grow restless. In those moments, he’d not-so-subtly state that he was heading to the gym and it’d sure be nice if he had someone to join in before very obviously making eye contact with you. At first you had a hard time figuring out a good balance between a work out that satisfied Beel while also not killing you. But now the two of you easily worked with each other until you were both sweating, smiling, and happy. He also made sure to remind you to eat through out the day whenever you went to a round of hyper-fixation on something. Belphegore wasn’t particularly helpful when it came to your forgetful spells or disorganization as, being the Avatar of Sloth, he would normally encourage such behavior. Instead, he did what he did best, and helped put your wandering mind to ease whenever you were trying to sleep. The only person, and not for a lack of trying, that you just couldn’t seem to find a flow with was Satan.

He was too quiet and organized for you to be able to stand being around him for long periods of time. You had tried hanging out with him a couple of times, but after a few minutes of him silently reading or him explaining whichever text he was currently studying, you would grow restless and distracted. Which brought you to your current situation. Satan had invited you to come relax in his room with him, as the rest of his brothers were dealing with the aftermath of their most recent dilemma. It wasn’t so bad at first, some light conversation here, some banter there, but soon your mind started to wander off to the spines of the endless books around you as you pondered on what might be inside them. “MC?” Your attention snapped back onto Satan, who stood frowning at you. You blushed and scratched the back of your neck. “Oh, I’m sorry. I got a little distracted. What were you saying?” Satan sighed as his frown deepened. “I’ve noticed that tends to happen a lot with you. Not that there’s anything wrong with that!” He quickly amended raising his hands in defense. “But it seems particularly bad when you’re with me. You get quite jittery and I don’t think you’ve ever stayed in my room longer than ten minutes,” for a second his eyes almost looked sad as he looked over at you, “Is it something I’m doing? Do I make you uncomfortable?” “No! Satan, no, it’s not you I promise!” You quickly reassured moving closer to him. “It’s just well I have a hard time staying still and focusing on things and when it gets too quiet it bothers me because then my brain is like hyper fixating on the smallest noises in the room, even though I’m supposed to be focusing on what you’re saying or my work, and it’s like, is that a page a turning or a something scratching at the door and then I start wondering about what kind of things could be in here and-” “MC.” Satan cut off, though he didn’t seem annoyed. In fact, his eyes now gleamed with a sense of understanding. “Do you happen to have ADHD?” “Yeah, I thought you all knew? Lucifer told all of you when I arrived right? That’s why everyone is so-” you moved your hand in a vague gesture that even you weren’t entirely sure what it was meant to symbolize. Satan huffed and shook his head. “Lucifer did no such thing. I imagine he would’ve told us if it came to be a big enough problem. But you know him. He takes pride in being the only one to know certain things. “ You frowned and tilted your head in confusion. “But then what about the others? They’ve all been helping me out for months now.” Satan placed a hand under his chin in thought, “They most likely took note of individual symptoms and decided to help. Belphegore, and possibly even Leviathan and Asmodeus may have put two and two together, but the rest probably think you’re just forgetful or that you’re restless,” he smiled reassuringly at you, “but that’s besides the point. Now that I know, I can help make you feel more at ease when you’re with me. What’s the main issue that you-” “It’s too quiet!” You quickly cut off, causing Satan to raise an eyebrow. “When we’re in here relaxing and you’re just reading and I’m supposed to be reading too, it’s too quiet. I try to focus on the book, but my mind keeps jumping around to other things. And I want to read all those books you’ve recommended to me, I really do, but I start feeling bored after a little while and next thing I know I jumping sentences without noticing and then I’ve gone an entire chapter with no recollection of what I’ve just read because I wasn’t really paying attention to the words at all I was just flipping pages without realizing it, so I have to go back and re-read the whole thing all over again!” You throw your hands in the air in frustration. “Is exhausting and makes me feel dumb, so I get up and do something else instead.” Satan nodded, taking in every word carefully. “Well first of all,” you yelped as he flicked your forehead. “Ouch! What was that for?!” The demon smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. “For calling yourself dumb. Just because you have more difficulty with literature than others, does not mean you’re dumb. You simply require a different reading strategy than what most consider “usual”, and I believe I have a solution that would suit both of us,” you perked up at his words. “I recommended those books to you because I greatly enjoyed them myself. How about, when you’re here, you can choose a book you want to read, and I will read it out loud for you? That should help, yes?” A light airy warmth filled your chest at just how accommodating Satan was willing to be. “But what about the books that you were reading?” The demon shrugged, “I can always read them in my spare time.” He moved closer to take your hands into his, silently demanding your full attention. “I want to spend more time with you and get to know you better. I want you to be comfortable and be able to be yourself when you’re around me without feeling stressed. This is honestly the least I could do for you, MC.” Blushed rushed to your cheeks as you felt your heart flutter in your chest. You awkwardly cleared your throat and took your hands back, rubbing them on your legs as you noted how clammy they were. “I think I-I would like that a lot” The grin on Satan’s face widened as he took one of your hands and lead you deeper into the bookshelves of his room. “Splendid! Then why don’t we get try right away? Take you pick, MC, I will be your narrator for the evening and for as long as you wish.” ***** I hope this was something along the lines of what you were looking for! It is a little short, but I hope you like it. Thank you so much for the request, I loved it! Requests are OPEN and I would definitely love to complete some more if anyone has any ideas or prompts that they’d like me to complete. Just send in an ask and, if I feel comfortable with it, I’ll do my best to make a fic for it!

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amor-immortalem · 4 years ago

Text

An Alternate Path

Genre: Angst

A/N: Originally this was supposed to be a two-part mini fic but people asked about a part three. I wasn’t sure where else to exactly go from there since the end of the second part felt so final for me. But then, inspired by a comment on the 2nd part, I began to think about how it would have gone if Arella hadn’t been revived with Mammon’s blood. Think of this as the bad end to the AU. This is the final part.

obviously spoilers for the lesson 16 incident and for lesson 50 (i think… correct me if Im wrong)

Replaced part 1

The Good/True End

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He sits in his room starting at the dried blood on his hands, heart aching from the loss of his mate. It had only been mere hours since Barbatos had taken her body to prepare for funeral rites but to the Avatar of Greed, it had felt like centuries. Why? He’s asked himself this question over and over. Why didn’t you check on her sooner? Why didn’t you call or text? Why didn’t you notice? Why didn’t you feel something was wrong through your pact?

As much as he wants to, Mammon has no more tears left to cry. His human is gone, never to return and it was the fault of him and his brother. He should have been there sooner. Should have reminded her how much he cared. Should have done a lot of things. He had every opportunity to, but he squandered all of it.

He rakes his hands through his hair as they whys replay in his head. The demon doesn’t have an answer for them- none that would satisfy them, at least. He lets out a yell as grief turns to rage and nothing of value is spared from his violence. Items and trinkets knock from their shelves, furniture overturned, by time the second-born was done, his room looked like a war zone.

It’s only then that Mammon collapses to his knees and lets out a broken wail as he can hear the restless cawing of his crows outside.

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Levi is alone in his room, having shut himself away hours ago. Laying in his bathtub bed, the Avatar of Envy loses himself to his thoughts and the view of the water above him. He can’t help but think about what would have happened if he had put his foot down when Asmo approached him to recruit him in helping his little matchmaking plan for Melissa and Satan.

And then his thoughts focus in on the other human. If she had never come, if they had never welcomed her into their lives through the exchange programme... Arella would still be alive. She’d still be sitting here, playing video games and helping him decide which anime he should choose to watch when there was a conflict of time slots. They’d still be talking about their Husbandos and Waifus just as they always had. But she’s not here. She never will be anymore. All because he didn’t have the spine to act like the older brother and tell Asmo no. Because he allowed his younger brother to monopolize his time.

His best friend is gone and he was part of the problem that led up to that. Levi has never felt so much self-hatred before and, just like with Lilith, he doesn’t know how to come to terms with the loss of another person so dear to him. For now, he’ll just lay here and waste away like the filthy, yucky otaku he is, wishing there was a way he could go back and undo it all or hoping that this was all just some horrible nightmare that his brain has conjured up.

“She’ll be back in the morning... right? She’s just sleeping over at the castle, right?!”

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Beel just eats. He eats and eats and eats to make the pain go away but just like his endless hunger, the pain never stops. He feels so empty inside that the only other option is to gorge himself until he physically can’t hold it anymore and vomits before he goes back for more until the cycle repeats and he runs out of food. The loss of their favorite human is killing him now- the grief of it squeezing his heart like an anaconda.

If he would have just gone to invite her to that new café she had wanted to visit with him only an hour sooner, this could have been stopped. But he didn’t. He didn’t and that’s what cuts deepest. He should have noticed when she stopped coming to dinner, or skipping breakfast, or not joining the student council for lunch day after day. He should have realized something was wrong then. But he chose to ignore it, thinking it was just one of those ‘moods’ Arella had told him about human women experiencing at certain times of the month. He thought he was helping by giving her space these last few weeks but Beel knows now that he was dead wrong.

Who would be his food buddy now? Who would let him drag them all over town in order to try out restaurant after restaurant, café and café? Sure, he had Belphie to take with him but his younger twin never really showed the same excitement when it came to trying out all the different food and drink options on the menu. The demon doesn’t realize he’s crying until the tear drops hit his hands. She only needed one of them to take a moment to see her and none of them could be bothered do just that.

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Belphegor only wants to sleep. He wants to sleep and never wake up again. In his dreams is where Arella is, happy, smiling, laughing. That laugh will haunt his waking moments forever as he realizes that for the second time, the Avatar of Sloth has caused her death. Belphie was only one of two brothers who rejected Asmo when they asked him to help with that damn plan of his. It had been too long since he and Arella had napped together after school or plotted something with Satan as part of the Anti-Lucifer league. How he missed those days.

He can feel the tears pool in his eyes as he curls up into a ball on the bed in the attic. He wonders if he had just stayed up here forever instead of trying to trick Arella into setting him free, would this hole in his chest disappear? As he buries his face into the body pillow Arella had gifted him for his birthday this year, he cries himself to sleep- indulges himself in all the good memories they had made together after she had forgiven him for everything he had done to her.

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Asmodeus is lost. They stare and stare at their skincare products trying to will themself to start their nightly skincare routine. How could they have been so foolish? The passage of time is so different to humans than it is to demons. They had only meant to take a month to match Satan and Melissa up so how had it turned to eleven already?! The Avatar of Lust wants to scream. Both at themself and no one at all. Hot tears still sting their eyes as they shapeshift. They change and they change and they change forms- any number of features forming and then shifting away as they try to find a look that they won’t recognize themself in but it doesn’t work. Asmo’s not able to look themself in the mirror for the rest of the night as they just crash down on their bed. They want to mark up their beautiful body into some hideous to match the feelings crushing their heart. Asmo wants to do something- anything- to themself to experience even a fraction of the pain Arella must have felt but all the demon feels now is just hollowness.

Their phone is vibrating on the bed next to them- a call from Solomon. No doubt he could feel Asmo’s distress through the pact they share but the Avatar of Lust is too tired from hours of ugly crying and most certainly not in the mood to speak to anyone- pact master or otherwise. The phone goes unanswered.

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Satan has his head buried in the books. He’s been at this for hours- there must be a way to bring her back to them! Melissa is with him, bringing whatever books he asks for in his search as she too is eager to bring the lost human back to this plane of existence. There was so much they wanted to do with her. From watching cheesy mystery dramas together to forming a small book club consisting of just the three of them, none of that would come to pass now.

As book after book turns up dead ends, the demon just buries his head in his hands. It feels pointless now. Who was he to play God with life and death? The thought of never seeing his friend alive once more is enough to break the Avatar of Wrath as his shoulders shake with violent sobs. He wants to go on a rampage- destroy the whole city but what would that fix? It certainly wouldn’t bring her back.

As the demon continues to cry, Melissa only wraps her arms around him and he returns the gesture. She runs her fingers through his blonde hair in an effort to calm him and it seems to work, if only for a little while. She pulls a chair up to sit next to him as she holds his hand in hers.

“Tell me about your favorite memories with her,” They girl begins, “We can’t undo what was done, but we can keep her memory alive by sharing the good times.”

And so, they talk late into the night, Satan smiling at all the memories of Arella that he holds close to his heart.

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“Hi this is Arella! I’m sorry I can’t get to the phone right now but leave a message after the beep.... Beeeeeeeeeep”

The sound of his brother’s laughter followed by Mammon calling Arella a dork in the background can be heard at the end of the greeting on her D.D.D.’s voicemail. The Avatar of Pride can only smile with tear-stained cheeks. He was beyond intoxicated, having just finished his fourth bottle of demonus for the night. He can feel the anguish his brothers have been going through all night and it only makes his sorrow deeper.

When Arella first arrived, all Lucifer cared about was keeping her alive long enough to make it through the year. She was unimportant to him outside of the viability of the exchange programme. Back then, he would have laughed at himself for the state he was in currently. She was just a human. Why did it matter if she lived or died if it didn’t affect the exchange programme?

But she wasn’t just a human. She was their human. She was special to him. And now she was gone. There was no second chance. There would be no merging of timelines to keep her alive. Fate was cruel, but sometimes Diavolo could be crueler.

Lucifer knew his longtime friend had a reason for this. He was teaching the brothers a lesson with her death. As much as it hurt now to lose another part of this family, things would get easier as the years went on regardless of how horribly they all would miss her. This was a lesson he and his brothers would not soon forget.

Cracking open his fifth bottle of demonus, the first-born scrolls through devilgram, saving pictures on her profile to be used in the memorial service. One of Arella with each of his brothers and himself and multiple pictures she’d taken with all eight of them from their adventures throughout the years that they’d all been together.

He lets his mind wander back over the last eleven months. All the red flags he had missed with his rose-colored glasses. They all made sense to him now. All the time she spent isolating herself from them, skipping meals, leaving either incredibly early for school or incredibly late for school. She was trying to get them to notice her over Melissa. He regrets their last interaction from a few months back. The way there had clearly been something wrong, yet he chose to lecture her about attending RAD on time as to not disgrace Diavolo. How he wishes he could take it back.

As the only brother save for Belphegor not conscripted to help Asmo in his ridiculous plan, Lucifer should have been the first to reach out to her. He may have been buried under paperwork, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t just sit and talk while he worked. He regrets not calling or checking up on her.

A video plays on her devilgram. It was from one of the nights they had spent up in the human world last summer.

“Awww, come one, Lucifer. It won’t be that bad. We’ll have those flowers from the fairy rings and make it back in one piece. I promise to keep Mammon under control so we won’t cause any trouble.”

The Avatar of Pride clicks out of the app as he feels more tears gather in his eyes. He can’t do this right now. Not tonight.

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Her service was beautiful- Or at least that’s what Lucifer tells Mammon as he and the rest of their brothers return home. Mammon wanted to go, he really did, but with it only being a few days removed from her death, the second-born couldn’t bring himself to go. It wasn’t because he didn’t love her or didn’t want to celebrate his mate’s life but it was still far too painful for him.

Part of him was still in denial over it too. Somehow, he’d managed to convince himself that she wasn’t gone. She was just stuck up in the human world and had forgotten her D.D.D here so he couldn’t call her. The logical side of him knew it wasn’t the case and every time he was reminded of it, it threw the Avatar of Greed into a deeper pit of despair. He’d spent some nights since she’d passed alone, crying himself to sleep begging for his human to come back to him others he would just lie awake, tracing over where her mark from their pact had been etched into his chest, set right over his heart.

Suddenly years have gone by now. His brothers have made peace with her passing but Mammon cannot. Visiting her grave never helps to ease the pain either, but still he goes. If Arella’s spirit still lingers, no doubt she would be upset if he didn’t go. It would only serve to prove her dying thoughts true when they couldn’t have been further from the truth.

“Hey, Treasure... Miss me?” There’s no one here but Mammon and a tombstone. “I miss you... everyday... So much changes every year... Both Asmo, Levi, ‘n Satan got kids now... little girls for them and Levi has a boy...” He pauses to take a shuddering breath as the cold wind blows. “Can ya believe it? The first kids born ta this family and their both girls and then we got a boy... sweet little things too- alla ‘em. I wish ya coulda been there ta meet them... Actually, looking at my brothers with their kids, it makes me wonder what ours woulda been like, ya know? And I wish none of this woulda happened... you deserved so much better than me ‘n I knew that. We all knew that. But ya chose me anyway and look where it got ya... Six feet under... If I could go back and do it all over again I would. I woulda told ya what was goin’ on. I woulda spent more time with ya. I woulda... woulda proposed... made sure you knew how much I loved ya everyday... I know ya probably can’t hear me, but I’m so sorry... for everything! I love you so much that I can’t move on and I won’t. If I die single then that’s fine by me.”

As he cries, thinking he’s alone, Arella watches from her seat on her tombstone. None of the brothers knew it but she’d been watching all this time. It wasn’t until she passed that she realized how deep their feelings ran and part of her wishes she would have waited just a bit longer before leaving for the human world that night.

She tries her best to let them know she’s there- that she loves them and is watching over them with Lilith, but she’s not strong enough to do more than move small objects around. She hopes that they’d notice but they never do.

As she hops off of her tombstone, Arella crouches down next to her mate. The best she can do for him is conjure a warm breeze as her spirit leans over to press a kiss that he’ll never feel to his cheek. Upon the breeze, he can hear a soft whisper of a reply.

“I love you too.”

And it's that reply that reassures him she’s there and she always will be. He hopes maybe in another life they’ll meet again and get to have the happy ending they never got to have in this one.

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taglist: @gayassfuckinghomosexual @joyvlee

find more on my masterlist

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tu-sugar-mami · 4 years ago

Text

Tales of the side of the road: Day #1)

You're an overworked, sleep deprived, tired barista at a pretty strange coffee shop. You don't really complain, since the payment is good and you have a lot of free time, with the shop being pretty much empty and customers walking in only once in a while. The place is big, well equipped, somehow there's wifi, and you love doing what you do even if sometimes you wish you could go home. You could say the building is placed in the middle of nowhere, in a road connecting two barely populated and pretty hidden towns. The only other building anywhere in a few miles is the convenience store, an old and beaten up OxxO across the street, the cashier doesn't speak much though.

The owner is a bit... how to say it? Cryptic, to put it slightly, but that doesn't bother you at all, you barely see them, and now that you think of it perhaps the only time you spoke to them is when you were hired.

You've seen your fair share of weird stuff in three years of working here, and you even made friends with the local cult, although with a rocky start when they tried to sacrifice you to their deity. It turned out for the best, since you gained regulars that always came in with the freshest gossip. And yes, you may have gotten a small curse because of the first encounter, but hey, being occasionally possessed by a dark goddess do come handy when one of the diverse side effects is super strength and you have to lift heavy boxes of ingredients for the drinks. Because, let me tell you, the drinks you make are not regular stuff.

You specialize in a very complex form of beverages, with basic color code names, but with a flawless, delicious, magnificent taste. At least to those who are meant for.

You see, customers here are very unique, and many have tried to eat you several times before you made it clear that you were not on the menu. They learned to not underestimate your skills manouvering a broom.

Anyway, today is a specially slow day. Not even Gary —a cultist of the highest ranks, who loves his double shot 'blue' coffee— has passed by yet and you can't help but wonder what or who held him back. Though your inquiry doesn't last long, when you hear voices outside and the approach of hurried steps.

It's almost nightfall and it starts to get chilly when you get ready for yet another endless night shift. You find it odd that other people aside from Gary would swing by the shop at this hour, but well, it is your job to serve them after all, and so you tighten your apron and ready your notepad.

Like i've said before you've seen a lot of not so ordinary stuff, and when an uncommonly tall —and absolutely gorgeous— lady along with three younger, shorter women wearing at least 10 layers of cozy clothes walk in you're absolutely unfazed and instead welcome them with the brightest smile you can muster.

"Hi! Welcome to Itsy Bitchy Spider, home of the best coffee in all 24 miles around. What can i get for you today?" You say, bringing the women's attention to you.

The tall lady seems a little thrown off by your warm welcoming. Or by the weird name of the franchise, or perhaps because she wasn't expecting a fragile-looking human to be behind the counter, who knows, but she usher one of the younger girls —a brunette one, who wears a creepy but charming smile peeking from under a thick scarf— towards the counter and clears her throat. "Hello, yes, my daughter got into a little bit of a situation earlier and she has to clean herself up. We're on our way to a very important meeting and she has to be presentable."

It's only now when you notice that said daughter has bloodied clothes, and when she lifts her head you can see that there's blood dripping from her chin too. But again, not the weirdest.

"Sure ma'am," You say with a smile, wich has her giving you a curious look. "the bathroom is on that black door over there." You point and the girl goes on her way, almost skipping. Kind of adorable, you think, like a small child would be, except much older and dangerous. "So, is the cult holding a meeting? That'd explain why Gary hasn't come by." You say casually. The woman is about to answer when another uh, you suppose is a daughter too, suddenly points at the pastries countertop.

"What's that?" A redhead girl asks. She looks excited and genuinely curious about a colorful piece of a cake. You don't make them, and honestly you don't want to know what's in them, but you know they're suitable for any kind of customer that walks in, so you pull out a piece and arrange it on a plate, decorating it with red syrup, the red syrup.

"Try it, it's on the house." You wink at her while sliding the plate towards her and she looks at you like you just handed her a priceless jewel.

"Really?" She says, but is more a formality since she's already pulling the plate closer. "Look Bela! Look what i got!"

"No, Daniela you shouldn't eat that. Your tummy will hurt, you know this." The tall lady says as she grabs the plate and pull it out of Daniela's grasp, which is easy given her height. "We're sorry, but we can't take this. We have a very strict diet." She hands the plate back to you.

You smile and gently take the plate away, aware of the sad puppy eyes the redhead is giving you. You discreetly, almost as if it wasn't your intention, you put the plate within her reach and keep talking. You pretend not to notice when the girl sneakily grabs the plate and runs back to her sister to share her prize.

"Ma'am, i assure you it is perfectly safe. You're not from around here, are you? Well, let me get you acquainted with the place." Not wasting any time you quickly prepare a concoction of 'red' coffee and top it with regular whipped cream while the lady's gaze is fixed on every move. "Here, try this."

"Try what?" The dark haired girl has returned from the bathroom all freshened up and looks curiously to the tall glass you slide on the counter. "Oooh, that looks nice!"

"It is nice. It's one of the house's specials. We call it 'red coffee' though it's up to you discover if you like it."

"Cassandra, i don't think we should..." The lady seems hesitant, but when you rise the glass as close as you can to her face and she takes a whiff you can clearly see her pupils dilate. "What... is that?" She asks, breathless, as if she's just found something she craved for so long and didn't even know it.

You smirk, knowing that you guessed correctly about what would work on her. "Why don't you take a sip and find out?"

"Mother, i think you should give it a try." The blonde girl, the one who hadn't said a word since she first entered says. You notice that there's some cake frosting right on the corner of her smiling lips.

"Perhaps i should listen to you, Bela. Let's see, shall we?" The mother takes the glass from your hand, tiny in comparasion to hers, and she guides the brim of the cup to her red lips. She cautiously takes a sip and as soon as the liquid touches her tongue and she tastes, the drink is downed in seconds.

"So, what's the veredict? You like it?" You say as you put the lid on the last of another three cups of the same drink that you finished making while the cup on the lady's hand was being emptied, ready to hand over to the girls.

"It's exquisite..." She says, and you can see the awe on her face. "How?"

"Well, that's a secret, isn't it? You can come by whenever you like, we're open all day, every day." You look behind the four women and spot a grumpy looking man wearing sunglasses and a hat just outside in the parking lot. Odd when there's no sunlight to protect his eyes from, but you don't judge. "Looks like someone is looking for you." You point past them to the guy.

And sure enough:

"Alcina! Where the fuck are you? Miranda is waiting for us, we're late!"

The annoyed expression on the lady's —Alcina, now you know— face almost make you laugh, but you don't want to be disrespectful and instead you just cough a little. "Looks like we have to part ways." She says, putting the glass on the counter delicately. Her eyes are glued to your own and you can see fire in them. "For now."

The lady turns around and walks away with determination and elegance in her stride and behind her the daughters follow with the grace of young gazelles. One of them, the blonde girl turns her head enough to see you over her shoulder and waves goodbye. You wave back.

"Have a safe trip!" You say. Much, much later you'll call this 'day one', when Alcina first entered your life, but for now:

Alcina... The name feels sweet like honey in your mouth and you smile. You can't wait to see her again.

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@thejennystuttle here it is the first one i finished. I got carried away, srry. Hope u like it?

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If you love my work, buy me a coffee?

#alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu #re8 #re8 village #my fic #lady d #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #alcina x reader

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sanguinescorpios · 4 years ago

Text

Still Alive

dream x f!reader

PART ONE

summary | Just under 20 years ago, the world slipped from humanity’s grasp and fell into the lap of mutant creatures. While most humans hid from the variants, some, like reader, grew restless in the bases they grew up in and needed out. What will happen when reader realizes that she doesn’t stand a chance in the wild on her own, and can something deeper blossom from a survival-based alliance?

warnings | none!

word count | 1.7k

I had never seen a flower before. At least, not that I could remember. Things like that didn’t exist within the confines of the city walls, the beautiful, living things. The things that reminded you you were alive. My gaze fixated on the object before I even knew what I was looking at. Its petals swirled with pinks and purples, hues I had only seen in worn-out wool and peeling paint. Deep emerald leaves adorned a similarly colored stem, all woven together intricately and standing out amidst the field of brown. I marveled at the plant, bending down to hold it delicately between two fingers. It was incredible, even better than in photographs.

I spent months looking through the old textbooks Zoe had found, simply admiring the anatomy of different flowers and plants from the Old World. She was so excited to show me. I can still picture her jumping up and down as she entered my room in her tattered sports jersey and two-sizes-too-big jeans, a huge stack of books cradled like a child in her arms. Her tight curls were always pulled up into two buns, perfectly placed on the top of her head and bouncing with her childlike movements. I had quirked up an eyebrow at her as she wordlessly dropped her findings on my cot with a thump.

“Books,” she had said, looking at me with a newfound glimmer in her eye, “textbooks. We can learn!”

There was plenty of other information in those textbooks, but the flowers fascinated me. They caught my attention not just for their beauty, but for their mechanics, too. As I read, I began to appreciate how their roots anchored them to the earth, how their stems acted as passageways for water and nutrients, how they came in so many shapes, shades, and sizes. I wanted to know everything I could about them. I had always been that way, I guess.

A nearly foreign feeling emerged in me as a smile curled its way onto my face. The muscles were rusty from a long hibernation and they weren’t sure how to react to the sudden use. Dust found its way into my eyes as my cheeks rose with the grin, so I brushed it away quickly. That, I was used to.

“A cosmos,” I said to no one but myself. Of course, it was a cosmos.

The world before me was barren, a bleak expanse of land that seemed to never end. How the fuck was I supposed to survive out here? Despite my extensive studying, I wasn’t necessarily well-versed in survival. I had no protection out here, no roof over my head, and no soldiers with weapons on watch for intruders, or worse, for variants. A shiver ran down my spine at the thought. Variants were the one thing I knew almost nothing about, despite how hard I tried to get information from the watchmen and neighboring families. In all honesty, we didn’t know much about them, just that they didn’t seem to like us too much. One week the world was our terrain and the next it was theirs. I had never met one and I wasn’t planning on doing so, but I no longer had control over that. I chose to leave and there was no turning back.

That didn’t make it any less terrifying.

Adjusting my pack on my back, I grabbed my flask and poured a bit of water over the stubborn flower.

“Hope we make it, little guy.”

One last look at the distant confines I used to call home, then I was walking again, this time never turning back.

. . .

As it turns out, walking across one huge expanse of dust and dirt isn’t very fun! In fact, it’s fucking brutal. I had no idea where I was going, that much was clear not even ten minutes into the journey. Leave the city, that was my only plan. A shit plan, in hindsight. I reached into one of the many pockets of my pack and pulled out my water bottle. Last sip, that’s not good. If I could just go a little longer and reach the forest, I’d be okay. Much of the landscape had been torn apart over the years, but there were still occasional patches of green, at least that’s what I had been told. Just a little farther, surely I would reach it soon.

The hours dragged on, all melding together into one blurry week of sleeping in a ripped tent in the middle of nowhere and barely eating or drinking. When my eyes focused on a small dot of green in the distance, I nearly brought my hands up to rub the mirage from them, but I knew better than to do anything like that before washing. Especially after the week I’ve had, too much dust and not enough water.

I had been preparing for my lunch break when I spotted it, excited to get my hands on my tenth granola bar of the week. All desire for a break left my body, replaced by the desperate need to get to that forest before nightfall. There could be water in there, shelter, food, the possibilities were endless. I picked up my pace, feet moving with fervor despite my obvious exhaustion. My pack threatened to slip off my back, but I ignored it.

I reached the edge of the forest by nightfall, a shudder running through me at the thought of spending the night alone in the dense environment. Anyone or anything could be living here, and they could be hungry. The ground didn’t feel safe, too open and vulnerable of a place to sleep, but the sliver of moonlight shining down on me wasn’t enough to find anywhere else. This would have to do.

A few restless hours passed before I had finally fallen into a deep sleep, my back pressed uncomfortably against a tree and my pack serving as a makeshift pillow. I didn’t bother to set up camp, figuring I’d pick up and move in the morning anyways. I expected to get a few good hours of sleep at least, but that wasn’t the case. Instead, I was shaken awake by unfamiliar hands and a gruff voice.

“Get the fuck up,” the voice barked as my eyes adjusted to the morning light, peering up at the shaded figure looming over me.

“Wha-what?”

“Get. The fuck. Up.” The figure grabbed my pack from underneath my head and I groaned at the rude awakening. In my early morning haziness, I barely questioned the individual’s orders. My body moved before my brain told it to, pulling itself out of the fetal position and standing up, unsteady but sturdy enough.

As I rose to my feet, I took a good look at the person for the first time. He stood tall, towering over my frame with long legs and broad shoulders. Underneath his hood, a mask shielded most of his face from me; it looked to be made of some sort of wood and with the jagged smile that was carved into it, it was borderline terrifying. Dark blond hair toppled out and around the thing, curling messily at the ends. He sported muted green cargo pants and a thick belt bearing a multitude of knives and other weapons I didn’t even want to imagine. A black T-Shirt spread across his torso, strong arms emerging from the sleeves and gloved hands gripping a satchel against his hip. If this went south, I was outmatched.

“What made you think sleeping on the ground was a good idea?” he hissed out a few minutes later as he led me through the trees, taking angry steps at least two yards ahead of me.

“I didn’t have many other options,” I responded simply, not sure what he wanted from me and still groggy with sleep.

“Well, you picked the stupidest option.”

I rolled my eyes, who did this guy think he was? Sure, the ground wasn’t the smartest choice, but it was all I had! I huffed, kicking at a rock as he stopped to check...something — who knows what he was doing.

“You got a name, mask boy?”

He shushed me, holding up his index finger as he looked around at our surroundings.

“It was just a question-”

“Dream,” he cut me off, “now shush.”

He said it simply, like it wasn’t the most absurd name anyone had ever heard, and went right back to surveying the space around us. I poked my head around at him, trying and failing to get this mystery man’s attention.

“Is that your real name?” I inquired, making awkward eye contact with the mesh-covered eyeholes of his mask and wishing I could see his face when he answered. Maybe then I’d know if he was bluffing or not. Or if he planned on killing me.

“It’s what you’ll call me.”

There was a finality in the way he said it, a sternness in his voice that I wasn’t about to argue with. A beat passed in utter silence, me waiting for him to continue the conversation and him already three steps ahead of me on the path. Dream isn’t a chatty guy, noted.

I jogged to catch up to him, slowing as I reached his side. He didn’t seem like he was going to kill me as soon as night fell on the already dark forest, but keeping him in my sight was the safest bet.

“You’re not gonna ask my name?” He turned to face me, raising an eyebrow and bobbing his head as if to say ‘go on’. I gave him my name and he grunted in response — men.

He persevered through the forest, cutting away branches and leaving a green mess in our wake. I had no idea where we were going or why I was following his lead so easily, but he seemed confident and I trusted his confidence more than my own.

“So…” I dragged on, twiddling my thumbs and shooting him a look, “do we have a plan here or are we just gonna wander for the next five hours of daylight?”

He rolled his eyes, letting out an “ugh” as he pushed through another set of leaves. I wasn’t wrong; the sun would be setting soon, and based on how he reacted this morning, he wasn’t a night owl.

“Our camp is set up a few miles north. We should get there before nightfall.”

Did he say our?

#dreanwastaken #dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken fanfic #mcyt writing

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moonlight-escapade · 3 years ago

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Lovers in the Dark (Adam One-Shot)

Hellooo! So I don’t know how this turned out but I want to start writing some more Adam “Only Lovers Left Alive” fics and am using this one to test the waters. Let me know what you think!

Synopsis: You’ve been dating Adam for a good while now, and while everything has been great, your internal clock has not made life easy for you. You’ve been worrying he might find out that your attempts to live on vampire hours are exhausting you.

CW: Umm... fluff?

It was harder and harder every day to keep up with the impossible routine that had become your new norm since dating Adam. It wasn’t easy to live on vampire hours as a human. But you didn’t want Adam to think you couldn’t handle it.

Tonight though, your sleep deprivation was catching up to you. Adam had been working on some new music and you absolutely loved watching him create it. He was also happy to have someone whose opinion he could trust. It was one of the things he loved about you… your honesty. Heh.

He had been going at an arrangement of chords for a few hours now, so you’d busied yourself looking through his endless record collection, reading... when you then had the idea to surprise Adam with some homemade bakes. Even though he didn’t need or usually eat human food, it was something to do. And... something you wanted to do for him. But half way through making a batch of blood orange cupcakes, the exhaustion was bearing its weight on you. As you began zesting the skin of an orange, you felt the sharp jolt of pain at your skin catching on the grater, and looked to find the bloody image of your palm all scuffed and cut up underneath it. The pain was certainly enough to wake you up for a moment, and you sucked in a sharp breath, hurriedly looking for a non-dirty dish towel to press against the bleeding.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whispered to yourself, looking for a rag.

“(Y/N)? What happened?” Adams voice sounded clearly behind you. You jumped into the air, spooked by the sudden sound and nearly slipping on the tile floor before Adam caught you with one strong arm. His eyes searched your face then quickly glanced down at your palm. You scrambled to stand back up, covering the scrape with your other hand.

“(Y/N), I’m not some blood crazed heathen,” he says, taking your palm in his hand. His tongue slowly licked across your skin, sending goosebumps all over your body. “But I am somewhat aroused by your scent,” he says, looking you in the eye as your palm lingers by his mouth. But instead of going further, his brows furrow.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, holding you steady in one arm as the other reaches up, his fingers brushing lightly under your eyes.

“What? Nothing,” you say with a huff, showing him you can stand just fine. “I was just trying to make some cupcakes and I cut myself carelessly,” you say, trying to wave the issue off. “I’m sorry the smell interrupted you… the blood I mean…” you say, turning to the sink to let water rush down your palm. Duh, you say to yourself.

“That’s not like you,” he says behind you. You shrug, looking over your shoulder, “accidents happen.” It seems to satisfy him enough. You can feel your stomach flutter with nerves, hoping this doesn’t cause some sort of bigger issue. You quickly clean up your hand and turn to him with a soft smile, “I don’t suppose you have any bandaids, do you?”

You can’t help but notice his expression hasn’t changed; he's entirely unconvinced by your act. He tears the bottom of his shirt off then wraps the fabric around your palm. “Oh… sorry, I didn’t mean your shirt—“

“Why haven’t you told me how tired you are?” he asks bluntly, interrupting you. You look at him, unsure how to answer.

“It’s not that bad really,” you try to assure him, but his expression seems to scold you. It’s uncomfortable and makes you nervous so you cross in front of him and take back to your baking, “I haven’t finished this yet so I’ll—“

“No you won’t,” he says, quickly picking you up in his arms with lightning speed. It makes you lightheaded for a moment, but when the stars clear away you see he’s already walking you up the stairs, moving past the music room to his bedroom. He sets you down on his lush four poster bed and begins taking off your shoes.

“Adam, I’m really okay,” you say. Serves you right, trying to lie to a thousand year old vampire, you mock yourself internally.

“No, you’re not. You need to sleep,” he says. You let him take your socks off and watch his hands delicately graze your ankles before he moves to unbutton your pants. Anxiously, you stop him, feeling tears well in your eyes. He looks up at you through his messy black hair. “Please, I can do this… I don’t want to lose you,” you say.

His his eyes soften greatly. You stare back at him with your heart on your sleeve and he crawls up onto the bed to sit behind you, then cuddles you into his arms.

“(Y/N)…” he says softly into your hair. You turn to press your face into his chest, grabbing onto his shoulder.

“I don’t want to loose you because I can’t fucking stay awake,” you say, holding back your tears. “That would literally kill me how stupid that’d be,” you say. You feel him chuckle above you. But you don’t find it funny. You look up at him with furrowed brows.

“Do you really think for one moment that your sleep schedule would stop me from wanting to be with you?” he asks, his fingers smoothing your brows.

“Yes, Adam, I do,” you answer honestly. His expression falls into a more serious one, and you straighten up to say just what you’d been fearing you might one day.

“Because if I can’t, how am I supposed to be with you? I’m already probably not going to get to be with you for long—“

He tilts your face up and presses a long, hard kiss on your lips. You can feel your breath slowly slip away, but the feel of his tongue against yours is enough to make you forget anything else. After a moment, he pulls away, leaving you gasping for air with your face tilted up to his. His hands graze your jaw as his eyes stare down at you with an intensity usually reserved for… other moments.

“Darling, you won’t be getting rid of me anytime soon, and I certainly don’t plan on loosing you then either,” he says. You look back and forth between his dark eyes, feeling a tear fall down your cheek. Adam wipes it away then leans back onto the headboard with you curled up in his arms.

“But, how long can you live with me like this?” you exhort him. He lets his thumb graze your cheek lazily. “As long as you need,” he says. You raise your brow, waiting for him to elaborate.

“There are so many things you have left to see in the daylight,” he says. You shift yourself around to face him, “I could give a crap about daylight.” Adam’s eyes light up as his lips lift up at the corners, painting a humored smile on his face.

“You have the rest of your life… if you want it, to live in the darkness with me,” he says. You lean into him, placing your hands on either side of his face, “I do want it. But that won’t stop me from exhausting myself to be with you… and that’s a warning,” you tell him sternly. He leans in to kiss you, placing his hand on the back of your neck. His eyes stare deep into yours, and his words come out in the lowest of sounds.

“Well then… I may have a cure for that."

#only lovers left alive #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston imagine #imagine tom hiddleston

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 4 years ago

Note

For each member of the Cullens, what do you think it would take for them to realize the extent of how unhinged Edward is and what do you think they would do about it, if anything?

Well, we’re going dark places today, aren’t we?

Alice

Alice is already fully aware of what Edward is, she simply doesn’t care.

There are visions that Alice misses, Edward thinks Alice misses the vast majority of Biology due to being hyper focused on Jasper (and likely missed the school massacre that Edward was seriously planning) but there is a lot she doesn’t miss.

Every time Edward thinks about how great it’d be to smash Mike Newton’s head like a watermelon, every time he considers devouring Bella, every time he enters her room unannounced to stare at her while she sleeps unawares, the time Edward considers genocide of the Quileute Tribe because of Jake’s telling Bella a story he doesn’t even believe, Alice knows.

It changes nothing for her.

She roots for Edward and Bella’s relationship, not because she knows for a certainty it will work out, but because it might. And that slim might, where Bella Swan might survive and become Edward’s lover as well as her own Barbie is worth everything they put Bella through to get there.

Also damningly, Alice cares very little for how good Edward is for Bella just as she cares very little for Bella period. Bella is Alice’s excuse to party and a dress up toy, but Alice will cut contact with her to a) please Edward b) prove a point to Edward.

Worse, Alice will take Bella to Italy, a city where she knows Bella will be killed with a 90% chance upon entry, on the slim chance that they might prevent Edward’s suicide. Yes, she vaguely explains the risk Bella’s taking, but she doesn’t say it in clear terms nor does she waste much time arguing.

Edward is far more important to Alice than Bella.

What I’m getting at is, thanks to her gift, Alice is intimately aware of just what Edward is capable of. She doesn’t care. And yes, there’s something to be said that Edward, more often than not, does not act upon these futures and he shouldn’t be condemned for choices he does not make. However, he does make some of them, and Alice knows.

There’s nothing I think Edward could do to either inform her that she was gravely wrong in how she perceived him or drive her away. Alice would be disappointed he’s thrown the family into such disarray but most likely would try to steer him away from whatever choice would cause such a rift.

She would aid, abet, and enable him because that is what will keep the Cullens together. Which is something Alice very much wants.

Carlisle

Carlisle lives in a river in Egypt, the water is made of double think. There are strong hints that Carlisle’s family is not quite as gung ho or altruistic about the diet as he is. Instead of being appalled, Carlisle quietly lowers his standards, and gives enthusiastic applause when Edward does things like choose not to brutally murder the serial rapist who nearly raped Bella. This is big growth for Edward! He also takes measures like sending family members who have accidents to their victims funeral, in the hopes that something, maybe, might make them see humans as people worthy of life.

If you asked him though, he’d talk about how amazing his family and the Denali are for the diet, and how he’s so proud to be a part of this community that values human life. LOOK HOW MUCH THEY VALUE IT.

When it comes to Edward, I think Edward holds a special place in Carlisle’s heart. He was not only the first person he turned, but Edward left and came back, to Carlisle this signaled that he’d found meaning and purpose in preserving human life. More, Edward... is very good at hiding what he is and is desperate that Carlisle above all others never see it.

Rather than have a conscience, most of the time, what stops Edward from “you name horrific action” of the day is the thought of “What would Carlisle say?”

My point being, from the outside, especially to Carlisle, Edward truly does look like a noble soul. There are... flags, but they’re easily ignored or written off as issues with Edward’s emotional maturity.

Where Carlisle starts getting concerned is with Bella. Edward leaves for Alaska, great, Carlisle’s proud he was able to make that decision and know his limits. ThEn EdWArd CoMeS BaCK.

Edward comes back, in a week, nothing has changed, and he refuses to leave. Carlisle talks to him, Edward’s thinking he’s better than Hamburger and he can’t let her win, what he actually says to Carlisle is something along the lines of “I can’t run from my fears” Carlisle does an upside down smiley face then says, “Yes, you can, please do” And Edward doesn’t.

Things with Edward and this girl get progressively weird, but Carlisle is very proud that Edward sees the value of human life and not murdering a girl for being nearly hit by a van (this is how low Carlisle’s standards have become), and then Alice goes, “Oh, by the way, Edward is in love with this girl!”

Carlisle just sits there, “Alright then” and quietly puts aside his dreams of moving to a town where Edward doesn’t eat Bella Swan.

But I’m getting off track, this isn’t about canon where Carlisle can explain Edward’s actions away as noble but extreme, emotionally immature, and misguided.

Eating Bella’s not enough. Carlisle will see this as a tragic accident, something he foresaw, but something he assumes will haunt Edward for eternity. And, as it will haunt Edward for eternity (though not for the reasons Carlisle assumes) there will be nothing to make Carlisle question Edward’s character. He was young and foolish to think his limits were endless, but this was a tragic accident.

And it’s something, that in canon, Carlisle is hoping won’t happen but expects with helplessness.

I think there are a number of things that could do it. Had Edward eaten Biology, had he decided to defy Volturi law by eating Saint Marcus’ Square, but staying closer to the realm of possibility...

Had Edward forcibly aborted Bella, murdering her and her child in the process, or else if Renesmee didn’t have her gift, and Edward murdered her after her birth (assuming Jake didn’t get to it first).

Those actions cannot be excused away nor cannot be seen as tragic accidents. They are premeditated and evil, and yes evil is a strong word, yet here we are. This is Carlisle staring in the face of madness.

And that’s what it will take.

If Edward cheats on Bella, then while Carlisle is sad and disappointed, affairs happen and passion fades. More, Edward and Bella married awfully young and barely knew each other, this perhaps isn’t surprising.

If Edward eats a human Bella on the day she’s supposed to be turned, in very suspicious circumstances right at the last minute. Carlisle will know, deep down, but never allow himself to believe it. He’ll think Edward is utterly devestated and had let his guard down on that last day in anticipation of Bella’s turning.

This though, there’s no denying this.

I don’t believe Carlisle can kill Edward. Murder is not in his nature, and more, Edward is so dear to him. And now that this has happened, Carlisle would blame himself in part because surely, the human Edward Masen would never have become this.

He’d likely reach out to Aro. Eclipse has happened, but not Breaking Dawn, and more everything is in question. He has to know the truth from a man who has seen Edward’s very soul. He goes in person, likely tells Edward his plans, and Edward rages but that doesn’t stop Carlisle.

Rosalie (more on her below) would never forgive Edward, ever, she is done. She and Emmett likely go with Carlisle to Volterra to hear the truth of what Edward is. Esme stays behind with Edward, torn in half, but unable to leave his side in this time of crisis. With that, her and Carlisle’s marriage completely dissolves on the spot. Alice stays with Edward as well, which means Jasper does to, though this likely starts the gears in head and he begins to contemplate leaving his wife. Though I imagine he won’t act for some time.

By the time Emmett, Rosalie, and Carlisle reach Volterra the coven is broken.

If Bella survived, if Edward murdered Renesmee while she was out of commission for three days, then I imagine she too goes to Volterra. Not for truth, but so that Aro can murder her, because there’s no point in living anymore.

Emmett

It would have to be beyond the pale extreme because Emmett gets more hints than most of the family (i.e. Carlisle and Rosalie).

Edward doesn’t really confide in Emmett, per se, but he does say some pretty damning things on their hunting trip in New Moon and give off varying vibes of crazy. Rather than realize that Edward, perhaps, is dangerous, Emmett only gets the feeling that Edward might not be alright in the head. Mostly, Emmett doesn’t want to think about it.

So he gets to listen to Edward raving about how Bella could be crushed by a meteor, wondering why Edward even cares when two days ago he didn’t give a flying fuck about this rando tasty human.

To Emmett, Edward has been laughing madly to himself for days, is now a paranoid wreck, and is starting to creep him out but... Maybe if he ignores it, Edward will go back to normal?

Not helping is that Emmett doesn’t care about human life. He’s constantly telling Edward to treat himself and eat Bella, in a manner that suggests he vicariously wants to live through the delicious experience (as well as get Edward to calm down).

If Edward eats Bella, Emmett will slap him on the back and say “Good job, bro!” If Edward eats Bella after the whole “love” thing, well, that’s weird, but, uh, “Sorry, bro?” If Edward murders all of Biology...

Then Emmet might do a double take and think, you know, maybe something’s not right with Edward.

I think he’d suggest he and Rose take a very long vacation and wait for things to calm down. Hoping that, if he ignores this, it will go away and Edward will return to a... saneish person.

What Rose thinks is a different story.

Esme

There is nothing on this planet that could tear Esme away from Edward. Esme’s purpose in life, the thing that gives her joy each morning and each night, is her family which you can condense down to Edward: the best and brightest of all of us.

We see it in canon.

The day after Edward decides he’s in love he acts like a lunatic. The car smells like Bella, as he kidnapped her for a ride home (Bella did not realize she had, in fact, been abducted. Edward does for two seconds then says to himself, “No, no, this is--completely necessary. I’M A MONSTER”

Jasper, Alice, Rosalie, and Emmett get to ride home in this Bella smelling car. Edward keeps laughing, like he’s in an opium den, it’s fucking weird. Edward offers no explanation, the car always smells like Bella, what are you talking about?

Edward then skips to the piano, giggling to himself, and sits down to compose. An action he hasn’t done in years. He’s still grinning and giggling to himself, by the way. Alice joins him at the piano, being equally cryptic and weird as usual. For some reason, Rosalie leaves the room in complete humiliation and shame. This is never explained to anyone watching.

Esme is sitting in the room, taking this all in, and thinks nothing. Instead she smiles, at beautiful Edward, and asks him to play the song he composed for her. She’s so glad to see him filled with joy again. She tells him that he is the best and brightest of all of them.

Esme later gives Edward her pretty much express permission to eat Bella if the girl is causing him such pain and misery. Luckily for Bella, Edward’s in love. So he passes on that and assures Esme the most wonderful thing has happened, he is in love.

My point being, Edward could drop the corpses of the students he murdered in Biology so he could more efficiently eat Bella at Esme’s feet and she wouldn’t blink. It wouldn’t even process for her. Esme would continue carrying on as Esme, nothing changing, while the rest of the family stares agog at the city Edward just murdered.

There is nothing Edward could do or say that would ever change Esme’s mind and she will always treat him as her favorite child.

Jasper

With his gift, I imagine Jasper suspects. Edward loathes Rosalie, despises him, and his feelings for others are... strange. He holds indifference and contempt for mankind and when it comes to Bella. Woof, what a cocktail.

He has no proof though, but I imagine if the smallest thing comes into his lap, that suspicion would become a certainty.

As for what he’d do, it’s hard to say.

I think, in most scenarios, he’d look the other way. Yes, Edward is a monater, but Jasper to is a monster if for different reasons, he has no room to judge. More, Edward is in many respects the heart of the Cullens, far more than Japser himself is. If Jasper goes causing strife, making accusations the others may or may not believe, then the coven could collapse.

This place, these people, are what Jasper thinks he’s been searching for all his life. For the first time, he knows peace, and is trying to live a life where he doesn’t persist in agony every time he succumbs to eating. Jasper is not going to risk that falling apart, even if he finds Edward unpleasant.

And if Edward keeps it to himself, or if the occasional human is the victim, then that’s a price Jasper is willing to pay.

Jasper might actually get concerned when it comes to Bella. For all Bella’s not very close with him, he holds her in very high regard. He nearly devoured Bella, and she forgave him, she forgave him his monstrously brutal past and has never flinched from him. She is a reminder of what humanity can be and why it’s important.

If he realized the threat Edward is to Bella, not just in eating her, but on a level much darker than that, then he might start to act and would probably try to get Bella to leave while she could. However, he also likely knows Bella would never listen, because she doesn’t see what Edward is and nothing would convince her otherwise. Not to mention, as soon as Jasper knows, Edward will plot against him so that no one in the family will ever listen to a word he says.

Not to mention that Alice, of course, must know and doesn’t care. That will be quite the blow to Jasper taking any action.

Barring extreme circumstances, Jasper does nothing, he just watches and waits to see what the others do.

Rosalie

For all that Edward doesn’t bother to be nice to Rosalie, and is ready to lay into her at a moment’s notice, he’s very dear to her. He is, in all regards, her brother and she cares for him deeply as she does the family as a whole.

Rosalie has no idea what he truly is and it would take a lot for her to accept it. More, unlike Carlisle, although she prizes human values and tries to hold herself to human standards her morals have slipped enough that she genuinely advocates murdering Bella Swan in her sleep so that Rosalie won’t have to move.

Murdering Bella won’t be enough, Rosalie will see it as the accident that could have been avoided if Edward hadn’t insisted on being a fool.

I think, for Rosalie, the best way to drive it home would be a sexual crime. Had Edward forced Bella’s abortion in Breaking Dawn, that would have done it. First, it’d be such a messy, bloody, affair at that point and would look like a horror show (which means Edward’s more than likely to eat Bella in the process). Second, this would be Edward taking the child that Bella wanted, tearing it from her and murdering it, and performing the most vile action that Rosalie can likely even contemplate.

I don’t know what she’d do, I don’t think Rosalie’s capable of killing Edward, she cares for him too much, even after something like this. However, I think she would make an ultimatum to Carlisle “either he goes or I go” and then would never speak of Edward again, he’s dead to her.

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amyscascadingtabs · 4 years ago

Text

give you my wild, give you a child

"stupid numbers, think they’re so great. i'd love to see numbers give you a baby."

inspired by that one line in 8x08 renewal, because he really did give her a baby.

read on ao3

It's been three days and Amy can't stop crying.

Sometimes she thinks it's stopped, that she'll finally have a stable moment to talk to her husband or eat a meal in peace or facetime some of the twenty or so relatives on her list, but it feels like it’s never more than minutes before her emotions swim to surface again and something new brings out the vibrating sobs that have seemed to characterize this day. As it turns out, even newly pregnant Amy has got nothing on three days postpartum Amy.

That she cries about the big, life-changing things doesn’t surprise her. When she wakes up after a night of minimal sleep and sees Mac in the bedside crib next to her, she cries because she’s so grateful; that everything went well, that their baby is finally here and that he's perfect beyond words. Then she cries because she thinks about what could have happened if it hadn't gone well, because she gave birth in a makeshift birthing suite in a police precinct, and so many things could have gone wrong it’s a miracle nothing did. When she gets out of the shower, she cries seeing herself in the bathroom mirror, because she's proud of her body in a way she's never experienced before. Then she cries because she also barely recognizes the person staring back at her, still looking six months pregnant except with hospital underwear and nursing pads in her bra. When she has breakfast after feeding Mac and tries to read the newspaper, she cries because so many terrible things are happening in the world all the time, and she doesn’t know how she’s going to protect this child from a world that sometimes seems to be getting more and more cruel by the day. Then she cries out of guilt for feeling that way, because she’s supposed to be enjoying this baby bubble, and what kind of mother even is she for daring to think about anything but her baby right now?

As the day goes on, however, her reasons for crying begin to feel increasingly ridiculous. She cries because she’s so relieved to be drinking regular coffee again, then because it doesn’t taste the same as decaf and she’s gotten so used to it that the caffeine tastes weird now. She cries because the coffee goes cold anyway when Mac begins to whimper and suck on his fingers in the way he seems to do whenever he’s hungry and she has to drop everything to feed him another time. She cries when Jake turns on the television and a commercial for diapers comes on, because she can’t believe they get to buy them now. Then she cries when Mac has finished eating because the red flannel she borrowed slash stole from Jake won’t button properly, and she realizes one of the buttons has gone in the wrong hole and she has to redo the whole thing. When Jake offers to help her with it, that makes her cry too, because the way he’s not laughing at her right now but patiently trying to solve her problems is making her feel so loved she doesn't know how to thank him.

The thing that makes her cry most of all, though, is watching Jake and Mac together. She always knew that sight would drive her crazy, and it’s part of the reason she wanted to have kids with him so much in the first place, but not even in her most indulgent fantasies about their future could she have pictured this. As grateful as she is over the fact that she gets to be a mom, getting to see Jake be a dad is a close second. He loves their son so much, and Mac so clearly loves him too, and Amy has to remind herself of the nine months she's spent carrying this child by herself in order not to feel jealous when Mac stops fussing the moment Jake picks him up. He looks so tiny when Jake holds him, the back of his head fitting perfectly in Jake's palm, and the care with which he’s handling him keeps making her emotional. He's always talking to him, sometimes whispers she can't hear and sometimes praise for her which she can, and that makes her cry too. He even chats to him when he changes his diapers, which Amy hides behind the door frame just so she can hear, failing to stifle a giggle when he asks in a fake interrogation voice what Mac has to say to his defense for making such a mess. He wakes up with her in the middle of the night when she has to breastfeed to get her endless glasses of water and granola bars when it makes her feel starving, and then he lets Mac burp him in the face and spit up on the back of his shirt before he falls back asleep curled up on his chest. He leans his chin on the top of Mac’s head to smell that perfect baby scent, running his finger over those cute neck rolls, and the smile on his face when he looks back at Amy makes her completely lose it, because this is what she dreamed of all along.

This is what she imagined when they visited her brother Christian’s new baby shortly before they got married and Jake spent the better part of an hour making funny faces to the child in his arms. This is what she panicked over when he said he wasn't sure if he wanted kids, because she had always thought. This is what she thought of those nights after another timed round of unenthusiastic sex, trying to keep the hope alight until that single line would once more tell them not this time. She had felt it in his teary smile when she showed him that first positive test, in how hard he'd squeezed her hand at their first ultrasound when their baby’s heartbeat had filled the room, in the absolute joy on his face the first time he’d managed to put his hand on her stomach just in time to feel their son kick, and now it's right in front of her and almost too much for her heart to take.

She's so tired, and she's sore and overwhelmed and worried about a billion different things, but she's never felt so grateful.

That's what makes her cry floods at three a.m. when Mac seems to have finished eating and she comes back from the bathroom to find Jake still sitting up with him in bed, holding him with a hypnotised look on his face. He doesn’t even seem tired, even though he must be, is just looking at his son like he’s holding the entire world in his arms and doesn’t ever want to let go. She always knew seeing him with a baby would be incredible, those surprisingly toned biceps curling around a fragile little human and those heart eyes focused on one thing only, but maybe she hadn’t expected not being able to watch it without breaking into tears.

“Jeez, Ames,” he says when he looks up, the expression on his face changing to one of concern. “Are you okay? Honestly?”

“Yeah,” she sniffles and dries her eyes again as she sits down on the bed. The skin on her cheeks is stinging at this point. “I just can’t believe this is my life.”

“Why not?” Mac’s pacifier glides out of his mouth, and Jake puts it back with two fingers before he can notice anything. “We’re right here, babe. We’re very much real.”

“Sometimes I thought it was never going to happen.” She hiccups. “All the times we’ve been apart. The months we fought to have him. How freaking long and exhausting being pregnant was. And now I have him, and you, and I’m just so grateful I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“That’s why you’re crying?”

“I think I don’t even know why I’m crying anymore. I’m so sleep-deprived.”

“Yeah.” Jake smirks. “But I get it. I’m really, really grateful too.”

Mac makes a short gurgling sound that Amy takes to mean he agrees. She reaches out so his hand can wrap around her ring finger, feeling him squeezing it tight in the cutest grip. The grey striped pajamas has little mittens on it to keep him from scratching herself, but Mac gets upset whenever they pull them down, so Amy figures they'll just have to keep filing his nails instead. Their son is already both opinionated and stubborn, and she loves it about him, because she loves everything about who he is. He's perfect, and he's hers, and she still can't quite believe it even though he's right there in Jake's arms. It's all her dreams coming true, and it's making all the hard things feel so worth it.

“Jake?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for giving me a baby,” she whispers. She’s too tired, barely even knows what she's saying anymore, but looking at the two of them, all she can think about is how incredibly lucky and thankful she feels.

Jake blinks in disbelief, grinning at her. “Wait, I gotta make sure I heard this right. Did you just thank me for giving you a baby?”

“Uh-huh?”

“And you're serious about this?”

“Well… yeah.”

“So you mean after nine months,” he says, still wide-eyed, “of you telling me, minimum a couple times a week but pretty much daily toward the end, that I could never understand what you're going through, and then you shouting some lovely descriptions at me whilst you were literally pushing him out, and also earlier this evening when you cried because I can't breastfeed him for you – you’re thanking me?”

“Some of it was a team effort,” she insists. “You helped.”

“Oh yeah, my nards sure are loving the credit.”

“Don't be gross.”

“Sorry.” He smiles, a little bashfully, stroking his fingers back and forth over Mac’s forehead instead of looking at her. “But Ames, c’mon. It was a pretty limited effort compared to what you did.”

“Maybe they’re not the same thing.” She leans her head on his shoulder. Mac is still holding on to her finger, but his grip is getting looser now. “But you were part of it too, babe.”

“Really?” He’s blushing. “What did I do that was so special?”

“Let's see. You didn’t laugh at me when I kept crying at everything the first weeks. Rosa made fun of me on a daily basis, but you just hugged me and told me everything was going to be okay. You let me sleep in when I had days off, even though I pretended I wanted you to wake me up. You fixed food for me without telling me what it was, and put it in front of me before I could feel sick thinking about it.” She shakes her head at the memory of those, few but complicated, weeks, and how hard they’d had to work around it. “You kept telling me I looked great even when my body kept changing and it all felt weird, and helped me pick out maternity wear when I didn’t want to do it on my own. I don’t know that I would have taken barely any bump pictures if you hadn't made me. You listened to all my research about the best strollers and pacifiers and cribs, and you did those courses and read all those books with me, and you came to almost every scan and held my hand so tight every time. You came home with onesies and hats because you thought they were too cute not to buy, and you gave me massages whenever I wanted them, and you even slept on the couch a couple nights at the end when I got angry at you for snoring. You barely even complained about it.”

“I complained a little,” Jake mumbles. “When you couldn’t hear me.”

“Fine. And lastly, you rode a horse through the city to get to me while I was in labor, and you didn’t even act like seeing him be born was gross.”

“I mean, it was a little bit gross.” Jake lifts Mac so he can kiss his forehead when he whimpers. “No offense, bud. I mean you looked perfect, I didn’t think you looked like a slimy alien even for a second, didn’t cross my mind, et cetera.”

“Whatever.” She rolls her eyes. “Point is, babe, you were there. You're here now. I know I did the actual work, but you were the one who made sure I could. I don’t know how I would have made it through without you. So… thank you.”

He doesn't give her any witty comebacks for that, only a shy smile.

“I love you,” Amy all but whispers through the tears that fight their way through her determination to keep them in. “Both of you. So much.”

“Love you, Ames.”

She kisses him, putting her hands on each side of his thighs so she can reach over Mac. Kissing is a lot more complicated than usual when both his hands are busy and none of them wants to risk crushing their son, but it's still nice, feeling his soft lips on hers and squeezing his lower lip between both of hers for just a moment before pulling apart.

“It's hard to kiss you while you're holding a baby,” she says, and Jake grimaces. “That might be the only bad thing about it.”

“My bad. I’m just going to put him down so we can make out all night.”

“Don't you dare. He currently doesn't have a boob in his mouth and he's still not crying, you're not doing anything to risk that now.” Amy pulls the comforter up to her chin. “Wake me up when he needs to eat again and not a second earlier.”

Jake chuckles at her as she turns out the light and snuggles up close to him, but he makes no move to put Mac down or even protest, and she didn't think it was possible to love him even more. Her heart has definitely grown with becoming a mom, much like everyone told her about, but most seem to have forgotten to prepare her for how much it would also grow when it came to her partner.

“I still think I’m the one who should say thank you,” Jake whispers just as she closes her eyes, and Amy can't help but smile. “If we're talking about who gave who a baby.”

“Jake, just accept the praise.”

“Oh, yeah.” She doesn't need to see his face to know that he's grinning. “I’ve locked it in a little box in my brain and I’m gonna keep it as gloat material forever, bringing it up when you least expect it.”

“That's great, babe.”

“Mm-hmm. We both know the truth, though.” Jake's left hand strokes over the top of her head, and Amy has to look up to see that Mac is still resting safely on his right arm and doesn't seem to have noticed a thing. Another tear fight its way down her cheek at the thought of how safe he must feel with him. This time, she doesn’t even bother to wipe it away.

#my writing #b99 #brooklyn nine-nine #peraltiago #jake x amy #b99 fic #b99 fanfiction #no eps this week but i finally finished this haha!#pls enjoy <3 #also thank u niamh and ajit for helps with all the reasons amy would be crying!!!#oh also the three people who voted on the title thank you

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