#He's using a mirror to look at himself because I can't draw a hand holding a phone

[screwpinecaprice]

Distracting myself by drawing someone being distracted.

[cordeliawhohung]

ghost smut drabble. explicit, no major warnings, minors dni <3

hardly proofread just horny and practicing

Simon wants to see your face when you fuck.

He can't help the way he craves it. How your brows draw together and teeth sink into your lip when the tip of his cock presses against you. The sound of your moans is like a sirens call, and he wants to pull more of that song from you lips all while watching the fucked-out glossiness that covers your eyes.

Needless to say, because of this, he's not exactly a fan of taking you from behind. Sure, any guy would kill to bend you over and watch the plump flesh of your ass shake with each mind numbing thrust into your cunt, and Simon's no exception. It's just... different not being able to see your face. He prefers it if he can.

However

Things change when you buy that new big mirror to hang up on the wall in the bedroom. It's tall and nearly as wide as the bed is long. He questioned you why you even needed something like that, to which you scoff and offer that it's better than those simple, scrawny mirrors that dollar stores sell.

He didn't get the appeal of it until he had you on your hands and knees, palms digging into the plush duvet as you bent forward in front of him, ass flush to the thick skin of his thighs. He always reaches deeper in that position, and your whines are only slightly muffled as your bite your lip.

And then he looks in the mirror. Not of himself, but of you. How your face shines in the dim lighting of the bedroom, how your body is so perfectly on display for him. He can't pretend that he doesn't like being able to really see how he fits behind you, how he can see himself fucking you. It gives him a power trip he never knew he craved.

His hips rock with some newfound urgency that you had never felt in him before. It's fast and needy, but his eyes are only on your face even as your hands slip on the blanket and your torso lowers because of it. It's good and intense and you feel your mind quickly becoming slush as you slip even further.

Your instincts tell you to slip further, to just lay with your breasts pushed against the mattress and ass up in the air and let him continue, to let him bring you to that high that you come closer to with every moan that leaves your lips. But your cheek hardly brushes against the duvet before you feel Simon reach around you. His fingers find your jaw and he grabs you and gently lifts your head up.

"Nuh uh," he grunts as the lewd sounds of skin on skin continue in a frenzy behind you.

Once more you use your hands to hold you up as Simon guides you to face the mirror. You whine and feel your body protest, but with your mind so dazed you can't help but follow his lead. Your eyes find his, and you can see how dark they are as he drinks you in through the silvery sheen of the mirror. You'd never seen what your face looked like when you were like that, fucked out and nothing but a moaning, trembling mess as he pounded into you, but fuck you could get used to the view of him behind you like that.

"Eyes here, yeah?" he tells you as his thumb slides from along the side of your jaw over to your lips. He presses the thick digit against your lower lip, and you instinctively part them slightly before his hand returns back to your hips. "Wanna see every expression on that pretty face of yours."

trying to get my smut muscles working again (they were never working in the first place but take this as i work up the courage for what i'm about to write for the next part of soft spot.....)

[freyaphoria]

hi hi hope you have a good day! can you do ateez’s reaction when you dug your nail too deep, leaving marks all over their back? i feel like some of them would tease and take it as challenge 😆

Hi! You mentioned their backs, but I didn't want to make every member the same. I hope you don't mind. Have a good day to you too♡

Ateez Reactions: When You Dug Your Nail Too Deep (Hyung Line)

maknae line

tw: SMUT!! scars, blood, oral, choking, cockwarming, kinda public (idk is it considered as public??), overstimulation, slapping, ahem yeo is harddom so he calls you ✨️bitch✨️

Hongjoong

Sex with Hongjoong was always so deep and intense. Slapping, spitting, bondage, choking... Hongjoong always made love at the extreme.

"Huh? I couldn't hear what you said." Your nose touched his pelvis as he pushed his cock further down your throat. Of course you can't hear it. Every part of my mouth is filled with you you thought.

You began to gag as Hongjoong twitched in your mouth, grabbing your hair and starting to use your mouth. "Bad girl. Stop gagging like a newbie. I taught you better." He grabbed your throat and started squeezing it, and you couldn't take it anymore and dug your nails into his thigh. Your eyes were watering and you didn't know how deep dug, but when Hongjoong cummed in your mouth, you knew you dug deep enough.

Seonghwa

"Hwa slow down you will tear me apart." His fast and powerful thrust forced you to hold on to something. So you put one hand on his shoulder and the other hand holding on to his hair. "You are so beautiful and I am so close. I can't stop, doll." His movements started to become sloppy and you were close to coming. You wanted to hold back and cum when he came, but he was hitting all your sweet spots so well that you scratched his shoulder to try not to come. Seonghwa groaned, "Is my beautiful doll trying not to come? You are so cute, wait let me help you." On the contrary, he increased his speed and went deeper. "Hwa! I will-" Your legs began to tremble, white dots appearing in your vision, and you came as your hand on his shoulder dug deeper into him, drawing a line towards his chest. He came a little after you and looked at the new red scratch wound on his chest. "Wow, that was hot."

The next day, when he came out of the shower and looked at himself in the mirror, he realized how much he liked his new scars. He would definitely ask you to do this more often.

Yunho

While Yunho was playing Valorant, you were cockwarming him. It was something you always did. What was different was that Yunho wasn't paying any attention to you and was focusing all his attention on the game, and you were digging your nails into his scalp to attract his attention. "Stop being a brat and stand still until my game is over." He spoke without taking his eyes off the monitor and turned his microphone back on. It was very difficult to stand still because of Yunho's size, so you tugged on his hair again with all your strength. You were trying so hard not to make a sound that your lip started bleeding from biting it.

To warn you, Yunho took his hand away from the mouse and brought it to your thigh and pinched you, but this only made you squirm more. To stay more still, you hugged him with your whole body and put your hands through his shirt and onto his back. Your insides were tightening so much that if you didn't move any more, your walls would start to burn. That's why you didn't listen to Yunho and started to move slightly.

Yunho wanted to warn you again, so this time he suddenly pushed his dick inside you with all his strength, you were left breathless and dug his back with your nail very deeply. “Yunh- Yunho!” as you moaned, Yunho groaned as pain shot through his back. "This is what happens if you don't listen to me." You felt some fluid running down his back and when you looked at your hand you saw that it was bleeding a little. "If you're going to do this if I don't listen to you, then I'll never listen to you again." Yunho grinned at you and was about to turn on his microphone to tell the people in the game that he had work to do and will come to the game later, but when he saw that the microphone was already on and he forgot to turn it off, his eyes widened.

Yeosang

"Is that all you can give me? Come on bitch, you can do better." Yeosang was pushing you to your 4th orgasm but you had no more strength left. Every muscle ached and there was no part of your body that wasn't spanked. "I- I can't- Agh!!!" You were interrupted by Yeosang hitting your tits. You were so sensitive that even the slightest touch left flames in your body.

Yeosang changed position, laid you on your side and started fucking you from behind. You made a small sound of pain as your legs came together. You wanted to hold on to something so you wouldn't lose yourself as he thrust inside you again and again, so you threw your arm back and grabbed Yeosang's bicep. "How close are you?" You had forgotten how to talk so you were just moaning his name. "I asked you how close you are. I didn't ask who fucks you so well." When he spank your exposed thigh hard, you dug your nail into his arm and made it bleed. "Fuck, are you going to leave a mark on me? So everyone else will know I'm yours?" Your heart pounded at the word yours and your orgasm began to build. "Then everyone else should see that you are mine too." He buried his head in your neck and started biting and sucking hard. Absolutely everyone will see it.

a/n: It's hard not being able to write smut in my own language. Please read it considering that English is not my first language because I wrote it very badly :(

[sunnebeam]

"i was hoping i wouldn't have to resort to this."

A 'PERKS OF BEING A HOUSEHUSBAND' DRABBLE.

pairing: min yoongi x reader

plot: the (mis)adventures of retired gangster min yoongi as he leaves behind the life of the mafia and navigates the way of the househusband.

warnings: the way of the househusband au, marriage au, crack, domesticity, yoongi unintentionally scares people

masterlist + disclaimers.

note: go on tell me d-day!yoongi isn't tatsu I DARE YOU 😤 btw u don't need to watch the way of the househusband before reading this, but i swear u won't regret it if u do lol it's so funny (and it gives great visuals for this fic!). anyways, enjoy!! i'd love to hear ur thoughts so drop by my askbox and let's chat :)

Water drips down his neck as he washes his face. Droplets fall down his tattooed back, tracing the meticulous lines and bold colors that contrast his pale skin.

After rinsing and drying off, he dons on his outfit for the day – a fitted, white, short-sleeved shirt that shows off the intricate tattoos on both his arms and some black sweatpants – and puts on his signature apron – a beige, cotton apron with a drawing of his brown poodle on the front. Said poodle is staring at him from the bathroom door as he takes one last look at the mirror.

An old, bumpy scar runs down his right eye.

"Perfect," he says to himself before heading to the kitchen with his dog following right behind.

Min Yoongi never used to wake up this early. But these days, he wakes up bright and early at six o'clock because he has an important assignment.

"What do you think, Holly? Too big?"

The poodle barks in response, and taking its opinion into consideration, Yoongi adjusts his gimbap slices accordingly, making them a tad bit smaller and just the perfect size for your lunchbox.

"Shit!"

The door to your shared bedroom opens and you run out, already dressed in your corporate attire. You run to the kitchen where your husband is and get a huge glass of water.

"I'm late!" you screech, all while gulping down the whole glass.

"But you still have a few hours," he points out in confusion.

"I forgot I have an early meeting!" you explain in a hurry, putting on your heels before giving your husband a big smooch on the lips and blowing Holly a kiss. "Sorry, Yoonie! I'll see you later!"

And you're out the door.

Yoongi blinks for a few moments before shaking his head. He's chuckling in amusement at your mishap, but if any outsider hears his laughter, it just sounds a bit manic.

"Well, looks like it's just you and me, Holly."

Holly barks.

"Huh? What was that?"

Holly barks.

Yoongi stares at the poodle, then at your Hello Kitty lunchbox he meticulously prepared, then back at the poodle.

"She forgot her lunchbox?"

Holly barks.

"Fuck."

Yoongi snaps into action, securing the lunchbox and putting it inside a Hello Kitty cloth bag before running out the door with his cute apron still on. He mounts his bicycle and speeds towards your office – which, if he was driving a car, would have broken numerous traffic regulations but luckily he isn't a stranger to breaking a law or two.

He's almost to your office. He's halfway there.

But unfortunately, there's a bit of a situation.

"What's your occupation, sir?"

The two police officers stare at him hesitantly after flagging him down for pedalling too fast with his bicycle. They're debating on giving him a ticket but then Yoongi answers.

"Househusband."

They stare at him.

"What?"

Yoongi sighs. At this rate, he won't be able to catch you before you clock in.

"Wait a second," one of the officers says, eyeing the tattoos peeking out from Yoongi's shirt and the big scar on his eye. "Are you..."

They stare at the name on the ticket. Min Yoongi.

"...Agust D?"

No way, the other officer thinks. There's a rumor about an infamous gangster called Agust D who used to slaughter his enemies with his own two hands. This guy can't be him. Right? Right?!

They hold a breath when Yoongi reaches into his pocket.

"I was hoping I wouldn't have to resort to this," he murmurs.

"Wait, sir. There's no need for violence—"

"Here," Yoongi shuts them up by thrusting one of his most precious possessions.

A gift card for discounts at the local grocery store.

The police officers stare at the gift card, bewildered.

"As much as it pains me to let go of this," Yoongi continues, "take it. Now, I have to go."

And he pedals away, leaving behind one gift card and two very confused cops.

COPYRIGHT 2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[6okuto]

MATSUKAWA RELATIONSHIP HCS

gn!reader, timeskip mentions | 4 whoevah asked! 🫵👍

waits until you're distracted/busy before suddenly saying shit like "first one to get to the lineup gets to pick extra snacks" at the grocery store

eats your leftover food if you can't finish

works hard to take you to a fancy restaurant on one of your first dates... doesn't know which ones are actually good so he's on reddit researching, texting the seijoh 4 gc, etc etc. he dresses up too... he wants to make sure you're happy and treated well 🙁

issei isn't super into or against pda,, he's happy if you're happy. most of the time it'll be an arm draped around your shoulder while you're sitting together or casual hand holding. he isn't opposed to a quick kiss either! :3

if you show him one of those videos that are like,, "if you know your partner, which one would they choose?" and he gets it wrong issei's like "?? tf are u sure" as if it isn't Your choice

he isn't used to getting gifts. if you give him a gift his first thought (fear) is that he's forgotten some kind of anniversary. but you tell him it's just because you thought of him and he gets all flustered and can't keep eye contact 🙁 you catch him glancing at/playing with the gift for the rest of the day

^ him with a lot of stuff actually LOL he tries to hide how Not Chill he is it's so cute 😭 you ask him to hold something but your hand is empty and you just interlock fingers? he's like wow okay if you wanted me you could've just said so As if his ears aren't red hshsdbshs

denies crying over a sad movie as he takes the tissue box from you (refuses to look at you until he's wiped his tears) (looks at you with red eyes and sniffles and says It's not even that sad)

says he'll take a photo of you then takes a selfie LOL

^ you'll have to show him how to take good photos... or learn together... he promises he's a quick learner + he thinks you look good in all of them

takes your compliments/comments to heart. you say his hair looks nice grown out and he takes a few extra seconds messing with it in the mirror, pushing off a haircut for a little longer. you say his new jacket looks great and he's like yeah of course it does,, then reaches for it more often than planned at its original purchase.

i think timeskip mattsun would worry about sharing certain stories from work ;; like... would it upset you (more than him)? did you have a rough day and would he make it worse? he keeps it pretty vague until you ask him to share because you can tell it's been big on his mind

mattsun's not one to care about what side of the bed he sleeps on (it's just the one is closest to a charging port) until you're together. like if you pick a side yourself, it becomes a habit for him to slide into the other even times you aren't sharing a bed. it just doesn't feel right anymore bdhsjdbsj

you know those trends where you ask the other person/people to draw flowers or stars for your lockscreen. he just sends a shitty dick drawing LOL. but he ends up spending super long on decent flowers after i promise. scrunching his eyebrows, moving his finger really slow, picking good colours and everything... even pulls up references. yeagh

sees you online listening to sad music and texts "you up?" in hopes of distracting you. he gets away with coincidental timing the first couple of times, but you figure it out. not that this changes anything (other than maybe his text to "you wanna talk?") — mattsun continues as an offer / reassurance he's there if you'd like him to be

so supportive. SO SUPPORTIVE. you have a big project you're working on? he's checking on you and complimenting you with every day of work, even if he isn't knowledgeable on it himself. you get a promotion or offer you've always wanted? you have to celebrate—you deserve it!! you have a big game coming up? he's in the stands with your jersey on and he's brought his friends to cheer too

^ he isn't really one to Jump for Joy, but he'll be grinning so big, and always matches your energy. (you like hugs and kisses? you got them! you'd rather a solid high-five or verbal praise? that's good with him too! he just wants you to know he's happy and proud of you)

^ actually he might jump for joy. a little. not in a YAHOO! YIPPEE!! way but in a LET'S GOOOOOO way.

you ask to meet the seijoh team and he's like. begging the universe no one's gonna embarrass him. everyone's like No way someone wants to date our mattsun?! Are you sure?! and he's 😐

^ tries to act cool in front of you. gets called out like "lmfao what are you doing" "so obvious" "okay mr. tough guy?" "blocked a ball and thinks he's hot" WBDJSNSSJ

^ brightens when you tell him he Is very cool and you like watching him. shoots his team a look and says something about how they're all single LOL

doesn't post you a lot, but he doesn't really post in general so the ratio of you on his profile is still great tbh. maybe for anniversaries or if he took a really good photo—keeps it minimal and won't write long paragraphs. adds a couple blurry or 0.5x pictures if you're okay with it

accidentally kicks you while he's napping and apologizes even though you swore he was deep asleep shdbsbns

lets you have the window seat. he doesn't actually care that much (since it's you) but he makes a scene of giving it up for you /silly /he's smiling

issei always does his first karaoke song with you if you're there. the first time it happens he doesn't even ask he just hands you the second mic and you're like wait what ??? LOL

gets scared if you say his full name. skips right over confusion and freezes like a deer in headlights even if he hasn't done anything

middle guy for autographs.. LMFAO 😭😭 like what do you mean you know oikawa tooru and iwaizumi hajime who then knows msby etc etc. you show up and say his name like :)) isseii?? :)) and he's like 🙄 Who's asking now. you know you know them too right. /lh

bro does not decorate. imagine unpacking for your new shared apartment and you're like ?? is that really all your stuff. and he's like ....Yeah??.. a lot of the things on his desk/around the house were bought together or by you

i write hcs and im like wowww what a respectable post length and then i realize how long the points are and im like FAWK??!?! ur telling me i DONT actually have that many ?!?!?! so i keep adding more and thats why i take so long. then i stare at myself like GIRL GET IT TOGETHER!! EVERY TIME!!! 🙁🙁🙁

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt. 69)

(Sneek Peek)(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: The pack meet with moonbyul to discuss terms.

Tags: Violence, Angst with the happy ending on the horizon, fluff if you squint, Yoongi gets really really angry and kinda triggers the, allusions to past abuse, Blood, manipulative behavior, trans! tae, Transphobia,

W/c: 11.0k

A/n: woooooo we're finally here!! can you belive it???? this chapter may feel like an ending in a sense because it is an end of all the mafia parts. truly- after this chapter we won't see any more violence or blood or anything close to the last 6. it's all happy endings from here <3 Thank you for sticking with it!

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

Sneek Peek:

Yoongi waits for everyone to buckle their seat belt but you don’t, frozen watching him in the window, the rearview mirror when he gets into the front seat. Yoongi doesn’t even get around to starting the car, sliding the key home but the beep goes once, twice, and then a third time because you don't have your seatbelt buckled. The others wait in silence. 

“Yoongi-“

“Fuck!” The curse is loud and perfunctory. He kicks open his door again with a stream of spat explicative. Slamming it shut this time. The others don't say anything, completely silent in the face of his anger.

Yoongi doesn't get angry. You've never seen him like this before. 

He wrenches your door open and for a horrible moment, you think he's going to yank you out of it and tell you to get lost. 

Yoongi's murmuring things to himself, so low that you almost can't make out what he's saying as he pushes himself into the back seat. The backseat of the Lambo isn’t that large. Hardly big enough to fit two people let alone four. Jungkook lets out a belated “Hey!” but Hoseok just reaches around him and unlocks the door for him to get out. Jimin is already out of the passenger seat and heading in the direction of the driver's side as Yoongi scrambles with your seat belt, jerking it over your shoulder and slamming it home.

"-Fucking asshole- of all the stupid omegas in the world I had to be mated to the fucking- dumbest- little- fucking-" The belt digs into your shoulder extra tight and Jimin starts the car wordlessly. 

You're closed in on both sides by him and Hobi on the other. 

They switch and shuffle. Jimin pulls away from the train station, gentler this time but still faster and with more finesse than you'd do it. Yoongi is still looking at you, glaring, tears in his eyes with wet cheeks, his voice low and uncompromising. 

“Give me your phone.” 

“My what?”

“Your. Phone. You used it to call her didn’t you?” You nod after a second, slowly pulling it from your sweatshirt pocket and handing it over. 

Yoongi takes your phone and breaks it over his thigh.

It’s a bit impressive really- the show of strength. He brings it down once and the screen breaks, winking out like a shooting star. Another and it bends just a little, a third time- and it’s practically at a right angle. It breaks so easily in the face of adrenaline and anger and fear. 

You make a small noise, not a whimper but a descending sound. Yoongi raises his eyebrows at you, wild. Like he’ll break even further if you complain. Hoseok’s not sure he’s ever seen Yoongi this broken. Never.

"Just- There were pictures of Noodle and Tae on there.”

Fear and anger are an intoxicating mix to anyone- let alone someone who almost lost their person. He goes at your phone until its jagged edge bites into his hand drawing blood. Then he tosses both pieces of your phone onto the floor of the car like they're paperweights. 

One of the pieces hits your shoe with a small metal clink, and even hobi looks down in surprise at the sound. 

Yoongi laughs and then bends over. yanking the gun out of your boot. Small, shoved there. Hoseok didn’t notice. He's not sure why it surprises him- that you'd be armed. You're not an idiot, you know the risks, and you were armed the last time that you tried to run away.  

He holds it out to you, long fingers wrapped around the barrel pointed at his chest. The handle facing you, the barrel of the gun level with his heart.

“You want to do the honors sweetheart?”

Coming Saturday April 27th At 5pm EST (Time Zone Adjustments Below)

[deafsignifcantother]

the baby

♥ summary: almost loosely based off of this by @ukor02. This is really just a small little writing thing I did at 4am. ♥ relationship: no direct romance really, just some cute stuff between Lucifer and reader. ♥ word count: 1.6k ♥ notes: no childbirth mentioning and this is written like just as summaries of the situation tbh, almost like a bullet point format without the bullet points, the entire cast are characters, hospital scene, I made Alastor a main character and her main bestie because of course I did, reader is happy to be a mother

You wanted to give your baby a chance to get into Heaven, even if it meant they'd leave without you. Hell is no place for a child. Both you and Charlie knew that.

.

"What a pleasant surprise," you sign to Alastor when you see that damn smiling demon right outside your hotel room.

He laughs; aw, you're describing his arrival as pleasant. Did he make a good impression on you when you saw him last when he introduced himself in person in Pride Sign Language? You never seemed to have paid any mind to him, giving one motion signs as responses whenever he tried starting a conversation. But even when you interacted with him like that, he couldn't help but wonder why you always looked at him with your sweet, shy gaze. It's not on purpose, which is the worst part.

Pleasant, you called it a pleasant surprise.

"It's good to see you too, my dear!" He signs, bowing a bit and pushing past you into your room. "What have you been up to?"

What an obnoxious question.

You close the door, squeezing the doorknob tightly. This is going to be a long evening. When you turn back to Alastor, he's in your living room examining the decor, your random art pieces taped to the walls and organized together, though not concisely.

He waves his hands. "I love what you've done with the place."

"I've been bored." You sign with a slight nod to yourself. It's awfully isolating, which is obvious. Still, it has never hit you as hard as it does now as you watch another person walk through your chambers.

"I'm glad I can be in your company then." His smile widens, and the static he emits gets heavier. His ear twitched a bit, which you noticed but tried not to directly look at. Was it a good or bad thing?

"But it's often relieving to be alone," you start and look him up and down.

"You're quite used to being alone, aren't you?"

Your lips tighten, your hands stiff, and you are unable to finish your sentence. Absentmindedly, you rest them on your plump, pregnant belly. Alastor does his best not to let his eyes draw down to analyze it. Still, his head tilts, even just a little. He hates looking at your hands when you touch your stomach. Did his mother hold her belly like that when he was inside of hers?

"Don't you have others to talk to?"

"They're out on their little journeys, you know them."

"Of course."

Alas, he lets his eyes trail down to your stomach. It's not quite full, but it's obvious enough to gain attention from others. Charlie will put her hands on it every day, waiting for the baby to show its presence. She can feel the heartbeat, and so can you and Vaggie, though everybody else can't feel a thing. Alastor refuses to put a hand on your stomach. Life is precious and loud, and the few who were never human understand that differently than the others.

"I wanted to check in on the baby."

A twitch of your eyebrow makes his smile widen.

"Why?"

.

The day before, Lucifer arrived.

You try on your best clothes, laying them flat against your front, looking at your belly in the mirror. For the king, should you try to hide it or show it proudly? He has a daughter, but does that affect his thoughts about Hellborn pregnancies? Gosh, what do you have to worry about? So stupid.

With the other people, your new friends, you stood with your head proud.

He swirled with the dragons and hugged his daughter as if he hadn't seen her for years. What a kind man, unusually kind. His eyes... Those soft, precious eyes. And when they landed on you, your heart almost stopped. He looked at you as if you were an angel. When his lips started to move, the smile you didn't even know you wore faded.

Charlie put her hand on his shoulder and whispered something to him. And there came Alastor, saving the day.

"The idiotic king was just telling you how happy he is for you." With the signs came the grinding of his teeth.

Lucifer approached, his cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment. He addressed Alastor with aggressive hesitance. 'Tell her...' he said.

Charlie smiled excitedly, Nifty kept nodding, and Sir Pentious's eyes started tearing up.

Alastor grimaced. "He's asking if he could feel your stomach."

As always, you've put a thorn in the flow of interactions.

Still, you put on a smile. "Of course."

And there you stood, the King of Hell's hands gently holding you. You could feel the cold of his touch even through the fabric of your shirt. The heartbeat vibrated through both your body and his. The baby was alive and well; you could tell through the pure glee that spread across his face. Beyond your tiny ounce of worry, you knew he'd find hope within your baby.

Alastor watched with a terribly strained smile.

.

"Why?" You ask again when he doesn't answer. "What's with the sudden worry?"

"Worry? No, no." Alastor waves you off. "More like..."

You watch with interest as he trails off, a vulnerability you love.

He squints his eyes and clenches his fists, but only for a moment. His lack of vocabulary kills him. "...Intrigue."

You crack a smirk. "Are you finally gonna feel my stomach?"

Another pause. Alastor considers it, but all he can imagine is his claws accidentally drawing blood.

"No."

"That's okay." Again, your hands rest on your stomach.

.

Alastor has been watching it grow, but so has Lucifer. Charlie's father scarcely visits, and you've convinced yourself it's to see you. Every time he enters the hotel, he asks how you are. He tries to lift his hands to sign but finds no words forming. A language was created in his world, and he has yet to learn how to learn it.

Whenever he presses his hands against your belly, he can feel the liveliness of the soul forming inside you, and he can feel your appreciation at his care.

Begrudgingly, he always has to ask Alastor for advice on communicating with you. Alastor always has a cocky smirk when he teaches.

Charlie has to ask Alastor for help, too, but more willingly. Alastor raises his chin and squares shoulders when people ask him for help. Charlie went to him for help on a conversation you knew she was going to start with you:

"You're not going to stay here for the battle."

"I know." There was no argument on your behalf. Charlie's cheeks still went pink.

"But I have to figure out where it's safest for you. Alastor told me Cannibal Town, but uhh... Maybe not."

"They'll all be here anyway. Maybe they'll distract the angels from going over there."

Her bright eyes widen a bit. "Do you think so?"

"I can stay over there, even if they try to eat me." They won't, and even if they try, they know Alastor would end their lives, don't they?

She fiddles with her fingers before lifting them up again. "I suppose..."

She's so quickly convinced it's cute. You're right, though, of course. Cannibal Town might be the safest place, specifically under the hands of Rosie, who Alastor had previously told you would be more than willing to help you. You can imagine her smile at seeing your belly, twice the size as when Alastor first told you about her. Unbeknownst to Charlie, he's been planning this for a while.

Your stress for their safety irks you more than you expected.

You place a hand on Charlie's, lifting your other one. "I'll be okay."

Before you left for Cannibal Town, you met Lucifer once again, a more loving side of him. He cradled your head and held the back of your neck as he did. His cold body felt like warmth to you. He whispered things to you; you could only tell from how his breath constantly brushed against your ear in sing-songy waves. Was he singing to you? A lullaby? He pulled away and finally signed to you. "You're going to be a great mom."

A moment before, Alastor finally put his hands on your belly. His hands were warm. Like Lucifer, he was whispering to himself, holding silent words from you. In another life, you'd imagine they were prayers. At that moment, only an instinct, you put your hands on his, and he allowed it.

The stress of their safety worsened when they were left alone in Cannibal Town without a word of winning or losing.

The winning of Hell was all you wanted to focus on when you noticed the contractions getting worse, spaced out in purposeful ways. Oh goodness, you found yourself thinking, oh my God.

What if Lucifer dies on the same day your child is born?

But after the battle, he was right there to cradle the baby in his arms, his heavenly grasp relaxing the tiny baby. The rest of the group sat in your room, Sir Pentious absent, tears in their eyes at both the birth and the death.

Beyond Lucifer's cradling, Husk was the only one who touched your child that day. He placed his furry paw against the baby, feeling the body heat that they admitted. Life could be beautiful, he decided.

Vaggie's sense of revenge deepened. She sacrificed Heaven to save a child, and now she's even more than willing to kill her sisters to save yours.

While Charlie stares at your baby with tears, Alastor smiles warmly at you. He knew you could do it: birth something beautiful and worth protecting.

Your eyes are locked on Lucifer. He's an amazing, supportive dad to Charlie, and your heart begins to swell. Your heartbeat increases, and a blush weakly forms on your already flushed face. His rough hands hold a forgiving softness. He's beautiful.

[youredreamingofroo]

On Repeat

// Click for HQ

Whew,,, I finally finished these! Thank you @elderwisp / @elksun / @living-undead / @dejasenti99 AND @yukikocloud FOR THE TAGS!!!! Holy wow :0

Tagging :

@circusjuney / @butteredfrogs / @mmonetsims / @flovoid

@birdietrait / @venriliz / @retrotrait / @mattodore

plus anyone else who wants to do this! Also feel free to ignore esp if you've alr done this, idk who has and hasn't im sorry 😭😭

// Extras under the cut - below is very long, so open w/ caution if you don't wanna scroll a lot 😭

This has taken the piss outta me (albeit fun), so i'm kinda just gonna explain how I think the featured line in particular is akin to the OC/Ship and not the entire song... as much as I'd love to 😭 Also it's just SUPER hard (for me) to find songs that I relate to my OCs, lyrics as well so skdjhnsjk

Roo's Song Oil & Water by Origami Button "When did I become like the ones I never thought I'd welcome in my home"

The above line in particular is quite literally Roo in the current story/character arc- He's looking at himself from a third person view and going "Oh. I am what I hate." He's looking at his old self, in college, and how he treated Leo, to now, looking at his present self and seeing the way he creeps on Leo, how he clings to him despite being several states over. Roo looks at the progression of his stalker-ish behavior, his obsession, how it went from just general clinginess that Leo could bear, to something completely unbearable after 7 years of no contact, it saddens him. So taking it quite literally, if he was at his own door and he knew how awful he was, he would slam the door on himself. A painful self reflection for him :')

Leo's Song Truth or Dare by Ricky Montgomery "Hiding in the closet, trying not to vomit, didn't even want it"

The entire first verse for this song can be applicable to Leo. As a teenager (15-16), Leo went HEAVY on drugs as a form of escapism from his parents, of course they'd always find him and get on his ass HARD for doing that shit. After a while of being sober, Leo started going to house parties, great idea- Flash forward to his third house party, and he finally cut his year long sober streak for drugs. as many as he could fit in his body. He had terrible influences around him so they encouraged him to do this shit, it didn't take long for his body to feel the god awful effects of taking so many drugs, so he ended up in the bathroom for a while- He tried to hold back the vomit because he was,,, partially enjoying his high, but he couldn't hold it back for long and ended up passing out, but not before nearly gutting himself from vomiting so much. Cut forward in time, and people got worried, bashed open the bathroom door and found Leo's unconscious body slumped over the toilet 🙃 Obv he came out fine, but it's a major moment in his life, because looking back on it, he realizes that wasn't what he wanted, he just wanted attention, he wanted to be cool, he wanted to be rebellious, but he didn't want to (nearly) kill himself. The render isn't one-to-one with the situation, but the lyrics are accurate so :3

Onia's Song Bloodstream by Soccer Mommy Scene used in render "Now a river runs red from my knuckles into the sink and there's a pale girl staring through the mirror at me"

Overall, the song talks about how the artist (Soccer Mommy) has lost her childhood innocence and how she wants to go back to her childhood and putting Onia's Sheep in Wolf's clothing motif aside, Onia misses being a child, and misses not knowing the pain and burden of being the complete opposite of what her parents wanted, so she spirals over this a lot, and like the lyrics say, "a river runs red from my knuckles into the sink," She tends to lean towards harming herself, in this case, her hands, and her knuckles- I can't draw or simulate blood in either blender or GIMP, so the red light is supposed to simulate the blood-sodden sink that she's standing over, and of course, "pale girl," is Onia, she's staring at herself, but additionally I like to think she's staring past the mirror, or staring through it (wink wink), she's spacing out and thinking about who she should've been, or who she could've been.

Hero's Song Following Eyes by Soccer Mommy "An awful feeling started creeping over me and what I saw was like no horror I had seen"

I'm keeping this short and sweet. It's not easy to find a song (that I like) that's about being haunted or cursed so. I had to re-use her song from her intro post, which isn't bad, but I did hope to find a new song kdsjhnsjk Anyways. Hero's cursed, pretty much anywhere she goes, she is forced to perceive ~the horrors~, sometimes she's forced into a blank space, a void (SOMETIMES,,, not a lot,,, rarely moreso), where she'll be tormented for who even knows how long, this moment in particular, she was walking along this catwalk in the dark, she eventually felt something that felt similar to someone dragging their fingers up your spine, in a moment of fear, she turned around and just. saw. She looked onto this,,, being, what she saw was "like no horror I had seen,,," Although to be fair, the creature isn't all that horrifying (which in my defense.. I'm a blender novice so </333)

The Hiraeth Song Nomu by Good Kid "Four eyes entwined draw four separate lines and none of them point to you"

I think this song overall is a perfect example of Roo and Leo's relationship both after Leo's confession and after Roo tried to reconnect with Leo. After Leo confessed, he tried to keep their relationship going, but it didn't work out, so he gave up (Roo didn't realize Leo was pulling such a weight and he just let their friendship fall out) After Roo tried to reconnect (aka the CURRENT storyline), Roo has been trying to keep things together and has been trying to make things work, but Leo has long-since given up on their friendship as a whole. Now in terms of the lyric above; Post-Confession, every conversation they had together would not be the same, they couldn't look each other in the eyes, their eyes would connect momentarily and separate almost immediately; Nowadays, if they WERE to be living together or near each other, they just would NOT be able to talk to each other, because Leo would be fed up with Roo and trying to avoid as much eye contact and general verbal+physical contact as possible with him. Roo, on the other hand, is just terrible with eye contact so he would have a terrible time trying to engage in eye contact with Leo.

The Ithanel / It's All Wrong Song From Eden by Hozier "Babe there's something broken about this but I might be hoping about this oh what a sin"

Ithuriel and Nanel's entire relationship is inherently toxic, they are not toxic to each other, but the underlying (or moreso, the OVERWHELMING OVERLYING) dangers of this relationship makes it toxic, broken in a way. Nanel risks her life going to see Ithuriel outside of work-related interactions and Ithuriel risks her life by just. seeing, talking to and loving Nanel. Whether they know (they do) or care (they dont) about these dangers, they still want this relationship, they live on, literal, prayers that they are not caught and that they can continue to love each other in peace, but overall, their relationship, in the eyes of the heavenly council (ehhh W.I.P term for IAW lore stuff), is a sin, and nothing but a sin.

Ithuriel's Song What You Mean by Rome Hero Foxes "Cause every little god damn thing you do makes me wanna get close to you"

The lyrics speak for themselves... Ithuriel is very dedicated to Nanel, and literally every waking moment of seeing and knowing Nanel drives Ithuriel up the walls because she loves her so much.

Nanel's Song Future Me Hates Me by The Beths "It's getting dangerous, I could get hurt, I know, I've counted up the cons, they far outweight the pros."

This is semi-foreshadowing, but Nanel knows that her and Ithuriel's relationship is forbidden, wrong (not cuz its gay necessarily,, 😭), and the way Ithuriel's heavenly role works means that their relationship status and every interaction outside of a required interaction is a risky game of one or both of them being punished and sentenced to death. But ! Nanel loves Ithuriel wayyyy too much to let how insanely dangerous their relationship is to get in the way of them loving and being with e/o.

Nirvana's Song 1999 by Beabadoobee "And I'm not wasting time again, closure instead of s^x, and I'm not wasting time again" Idk if I need to censor s^x but i am justttt in case...

Oof, Nirvana... Nirvana has always been sxually active, she's always had one-night-stands with other men, she's tried to continue things after that ONS, but it never works, she's tried to have relationships with women, but they just use her for s^x. She's tired of wasting time with people who just want her for her body, she's tired of s^x, she just wants, well, closure, she wants someone who will love her for her, she wants a relationship without s^x, or at least isn't s^x-focused, she just wants to know someone will love her past her body. Although aforementioned is all just a habit so she will unfortunately end up right back where she started and continue this uncomfortable and sad spiral.

[theladywholivesonthemoon]

New follower, but I love your writing so far! I’m not sure if you take a request but would you consider writing something short about drawing astarion or giving him a painting of himself please?

WHAT DO YOU SEE

pairing: astarion × fem!reader

warning: none, just fluff!

a/n: my first ask! thank you, I hope this does your vision justice!

The crackling of the fire burning and nature itself is all Astarion could hear. He stared at the mirror in hand, but as usual nothing is shown. He twisted the mirror, turning his face from side to side, grunting at the nothing that is shown, until she walked behind him. She placed a hand on his shoulder, slowly as to not alarm him. He turned to her, a scowl glaring on his face in his surprise.

"Hello, my love. What is it?". Astarion tried to smile, that grin he used when he wished to hide something from her, usually a fear of his. But it never worked, not on her.

"I should be asking you that". She caressed his cheek, him nuzzling into her palm. "Is it because of the mirror?"

"Well, yes" He said, his voice small and faint. "I... I wonder what this face looks like, sometimes. It is petty vanity, but still. I have never seen this face, after I was turned, I can't even remember the color of my eyes. I want to know what people see- what you see, when you look at this face". Astarion takes her hand, bringing them closer together, his eyes never leaving hers. Wonder swam around in his red eyes as his gaze locked on hers, curiosity and fear of rejection brim on his look until she spoke once more.

"I see you. A piercing gaze that strikes anyone that it touches. Your curls that swirl around when wind brushes against them. The laugh lines across you face that make your smile shine brighter than any star. Astarion, you are the most beautiful person I have ever seen, and I have lived a long time". She placed a hand against his chest, rubbing softly as he almost purrs at the action.

"Well, my love. I'm glad you like me, but truly, who wouldn't fall for this charming visage?" He said and they both giggled, covering their mouths as to not wake the others at camp. The conversation seemed to have been put to an end as the vampire took her hand as he lead them to their shared tent, but she tugged against his hand, her lips curling into a welcoming smile. She pulled away, leaving a confused Astarion to sit in one of the fluffy cushion placed beside his tent as she pattered to her bag, taking out a notebook overflowing with cutouts and notes scribbled onto misplaced papers. She walked towards him, sitting beside him in one of the cushions. Astarion stared in confusion as she summoned a brush and opened the notebook in an empty page and started tugging the brush up and down the paper as he watched.

"My love, I had no idea of your talent to the arts. May I ask, what is it that you draw so fiercely?" Astarion gazed as her brush passed through the ink on the carefully opened jug beside her bag and back again toward the page.

Slowly but surely the image of a man starts to form, pointy elven ears and all. A dashing fellow, complete with a well embroidered cravat, jewels strung like necklaces draped over his shoulders and to complete the look a big smile on his face seemingly brightening up the entire page. Soft hair curls around the elf's ears, perfectly arranged on top of his head, smile lines framing his sweet smile, soft dots pitter around the face. The woman keeps swirling her bush without so much as a response to Astarion, making the vampire even more confused until she smiles softly at the picture on the page and puts the bush down. She wordlessly hands over the notebook to Astarion who stills gazes at it confused.

"Oh, this one is quite a handsome fella isn't he? Ha ha". The vampires laughs nervously, but as the silence it seems to finally click in his mind who this is. "Is this-". His hold on the notebook turns shaky as the woman nods, slowly moving one hand to his to steady his slight shaking.

"This is who I see when I look at you. A man, one who has been hurt many times, but still finds hope within himself, so much life. I see you in your love for embroidery, turning that old cravat we found while looting that castle into a piece of art. I also see you in the patches in my clothes, which I didn't even ask for, but you stitched them anyway. I see your beautiful smile which turns any dark night into a bright sunny day while you focus so hard when enjoying a book, I love it so much when I see that smile directed at me. I see the lines on your face, telling so much history while you stand right here in front of me- living. As much as an undead can live, though". Her laugh turned into a snort, her hand moving to cover her mouth. Astarion laughed with her, wiping stray tears that escape through the side of his eyes. “Astarion, you are so beautiful, I can’t even express them in words. Beautiful inside and out, my dashing vampire”.

"I am quite wonderful, aren't I?". Once again they laugh together as he tugged her into his lap, hugging each other tightly while enjoying the fire sizzling in the middle of camp, welcoming them both into a night full of stars.

"Oh love look! A shooting star! Make a wish". She pointed her arm toward the rapidly passing star and Astarion hummed in thought, encasing his hand on hers, bringing them closer to his body.

"I doubt anything I'd wish could beat this". He smiled, his eyes downcast as they gazed at her lovingly. With relaxed shoulders and feeling a calm he hadn't felt in oh so long, he pulled her closer, his lips finding hers in a slow, languid kiss. They kiss softly, not in a rush, as the silence of the camp welcomed them both, leaving their love undisturbed, until the sun shines in the sky again and their travel to Baldur's Gate continues.

[thanotaphobia]

There is a lot Tubbo does not think about these days.

His brain is constantly going a hundred kilometers an hour; thoughts and emotions and plans running wild, ideas crowding each other to the point of entity cramming. Machine blueprints and scheming plans. Nothing illegal. He would never.

(A lie. He does not think about the blueprints scribbled under tables and hidden behind book shelves, carved into his own skin with his teeth ideas for drills a thousand, a million chunks wide.)

He tinkers at night and sleeps in the day, waking in fits and starts. Tubbo is never warm enough- he shivers underneath three thick woolen blankets Philza lended him and sits beside lava, holding his hands out to warm it. The machinery is warm. Machinery is alive, breathing and producing heat beneath his hands.

Tubbo doesn't think about ice, and he doesn't think about the things he doesn't remember. He knows Phil. He knows Fit. He knows, strangely, Etoiles and the others. Not well. Faint, indiscriminate nostalgia. He writes it all down in the margins of an architectural plan and brick and mortars the roll of paper into the wall of the building.

Snow crunches beneath his feet and he flinches so hard he drops his pickaxe. His insides itch. Guilt eats his heart from the inside out. If he were to look into a mirror, he's not sure he would recognize his own face.

Phil tells him it's normal. Phil tells him he'll get used to it. Tubbo says he doesn't know what Phil is talking about, because he knows Phil and doesn't know how and is not thinking about that undeniable fact.

Something about Phil soothes his nerves like a balm, same with Niki. Like kin, they know each other. Phil recognizes him even when Tubbo can't. There are holes in his memory like melting ice, the edges sharp as knives. Everything in unapproachable. He doesn't let it stop him.

"I think I've died before," Tubbo tells Phil late one night, both of them sitting up by lantern light and squinting at their notebooks in silence.

"Yeah," Phil says, charcoal staining his hands. It stains his face where he's touched his own skin absently, smearing inky void across his cheeks like war paint. "Like everyone else."

"I think I froze to death," Tubbo says. He's got a black cloak around his shoulders, but it smells like grass and dirt, not soot and ash. It belongs to Missa. He wiggles his hand out from beneath the fabric, staring at his right pinky and ring finger. They are made of metal. Using the mechanism is as natural as breathing. Tubbo knows his own handiwork; he just doesn't remember building it. Or losing the fingers. He doesn't remember how he got most of his scars. "Maybe I exploded. I think it's gonna happen again."

"Don't get your hopes up," Phil says, voice lagging as he only pays half-attention. Tubbo doesn't care.

"I'll just cheat death," Tubbo proclaims. He looks down at his scribbled drawings, and his chest swells with an indescribable emotion.

Across the room, Phil snorts, as though he's just thought of an inside joke. Tubbo is not in on it. He doesn't think about how he almost laughs himself anyway. He just tucks himself back inside of Missa's cloak and does not think of ice.

[sevi007]

@fortythealien

Oh that one was fantastic. Let me put that under read more because of spoilers AND it got long:

I mean, the "reveal" of the illusion really hit me like a slap to the face. This was both extremely beautiful as well as cruel, and it hits you all at once that this might ACTUALLY work on one, or both, of them.

Because, I very much doubt that it was Grausam who thought out the details of this particular illusion. As we learned very indepth by now, demons cannot understand human emotions. I don't see how Grausam could look into Himmel and / or Frieren and understand that this - a wedding - could be a good way to trick them.

So, imo, Grausam's ability rather reaches into the subconsciousness of the victim and draws out what the victim itself secretly wishes for, and then paints that world for them. For this, Grausam does not have to understand emotions or relationships - he lets the victims create their own illusions.

Meaning, this is something Himmel or Frieren or both wanted, deep down.

There was actually a moment where I was worried they would fall for it and maybe Heiter will have to wake them but of course I underestimated them:

Like, how. How are you HUMAN Himmel. Grausam himself stated that there is no way to tell the illusion from reality, but Himmel just goes and does it anyway. I feel like Heiter when his friend keeps going above and beyone here.

But still, look at his face before he stops Frieren. There is this hint of sadness again - we have seen that one before,for example in the flashback with the mirror lotus ring. I think it's the face he makes when he really briefly gets close to having this with Frieren - a life, love, relationship, whatever you want to call it - before he catches himself again because he knows it's not quite possible. He lets this illusion play out for just one beat longer before going back to the matter at hand.

Also, how gently he stops her nearly made me cry. No grabbing her, no holding her at arm's length, and he does not even ask if she realizes this is not real. His trust in her is implicit! He knows she knows, and will get them out somehow.

Also also, Frieren was into this too, you can't tell me otherwise. This was a trap for both of them, and it WORKED on both of them for a beat.

And to really put emphasis on how impossible it should be for Himmel to see through this all, Frieren confirms this once again:

(But in a way, maybe this shouldn't surprise us. It is a great callback to the illusion the beast "Einsam" created early on in the story, where Himmel appears in front of Frieren. Frieren recalls that before meeting Himmel, Flamme had appeared to her instead, and THAT apparation had begged for mercy / help. Himmel's apparation, though? Told her to "shoot me, Frieren". Not even an illusion OF Himmel was going to hurt Frieren, Himmel INSIDE an illusion obviously can break free.)

And when I said before that Himmel's trust in Frieren is implicit, I would like to point out that this goes both ways:

I mean, look at this stuff. Not only does Frieren not even TRY to break out of Grausam's spell (she knows she can't) but she instead trusts Himmel to fight despite it. She is entirely helpless in this situation, but instead of fighting or panicking (which, fair, is not her usual behavior) she instead asks exactly one question, and then quite literally puts her life in his hands. She gives no orders, no pointers, she just says "you can move right? Then move (like you always do)".

This trust, man. This (literally, hah) blind trust just gets me.

Also. When I say I forget that Himmel and party are terrifying, THIS is what I mean:

Himmel never woke up. He is still inside the illusion, eyes closed, and fighting a Great Demon (one and a half, since Solitär is giving half-assed support) blindly right then and there. Not only that, but he is putting Grausam on the backfoot even.

Now, of course, Grausam's illusion magic is probably what he relies on the most, so you could argue that he is not much of a fighter otherwise. But I don't think one becomes a Great Demon without some serious skills beyond one spell, especially considering that such an illusion which relies on the victim being intrigued by it probably does not work well on demons without feelings. To be acknowledged by his kin, he has to have SOME fighting skills beyond that of a normal demon. So this is still a seriously cool (and terrifying) feat right there!

(Also, even eyes closed, Himmel is protecting his friends - look how he destroys Solitär's sword as it goes for Frieren!)

See, now you made me teary-eyed again guys. Himmel even acknowledges - in front of Frieren! - that this was an "euphoric dream" for him. He wants / wanted this, with her. He never pushed for it, maybe because he knew it was not what Frieren wanted, or because of their differing lifespans, or whatever, but he wanted this so badly, it even pops up in Grausam's illusion. He should have fallen for this. That he did not is a testament to his skill, iron will, and his trust in and how well he knows Frieren.

Also, Frieren is really just imprinting this moment into her memory before going.

And:

The one thing Solitär - who is a master at manipulation with words, as Frieren has acknowledged - has to threaten Himmel is not "I will kill you", but instead "I will destroy Frieren's future". That's far more likely to get Himmel to let them go than anything else.

All in alll, after hitting you with such an outburst: I think this is the very best take of "protags get put under an illusion spell" I have ever seen. Once again, this manga does very well in subverting the classical tropes, because here, there is only a minimal moment of doubt, the protagnosits don't fall for it nor do they despair over being trapped, and they don't need a push from inside or outside the illusion to break free. They know basically from the start what is going on, and I quite like that they don't really break out before the fight can resume, but really just keep fighting while still being under the spell. It was a fantastic way of showing several things at once in a short span of time like:

* once more affirming Himmel's feeling for Frieren, and vice versa

* The utter trust they have in each other in this party but especially these two have in each other * How competent and strong Himmel and Co actually are

Easy to say, I was an emotional wreck after this because it was beautiful but also so painful to know they never really had this. Where's that Sein pic going "when will they get together already?!" because I need it.

Bonus in case you also need to cry a little:

Fifty years have changed absolutely NOTHING about their trust and love for each other. Okay Peace out.

[small-sinclair]

The Color Red

A gift for @jokesonyouimfruity and @goreyskeleton

Inspired by this drawing and inspired by this song.

A House of Wax fanfic.

Tw: angst, character death, murder, blood, just some sad shit, not proofread.

Happy 1,000 Followers Post!

*********************

I love you.

Those are the words Lester wanted to say when he looked up into Bo's ocean blue eyes. He wanted to tell him how much he loved him and his brother, Vincent. He wanted them to know that he never not loved them and always looked up to them. Though he felt his lungs collapsing and caving in like a mud slide, Lester still wanted to let them know.

The hot wax under his body was melting into his skin, claiming him as part of the wreckage. The tipsy words and thoughtless slurs was all he could manage to say. He grunts in pain as his body tenses up, causing him to arch his back. Lester's face was numb and on fire all at once. His chest hurts from an arrow and emptiness he was leaving behind. His ears rung as Bo's voice went unheard. He could feel Vincent's warm tears in the palm of his hand and the scarred face instead of the smooth Wax that's he's used to.

He never liked that Vincent wore a mask around him. He liked his face the way it was. He was is older brother; he never cared! But it's whatever made him comfortable. Their parents made it out that he looked like a monster without his mask, but it's obvious that they never looked in the mirror for a damn minute. Bo is a charmer, Vincent is an artist, and Lester is forgotten. Maybe it's better this way for him to dead and gone. They deserve a better brothers, one that's just as strong and talented as they were.

Bo cradled his head while resting on his lap. He's seen his brother cry before at funerals, love lost, unwanted death, and when he was drunk. It's funny; Lester's the one that always holds Bo when he's a mess. His hand tried to stop the bleed on his face, trying to slow the wound over his chest. His lips were moving, begging, praying, but he couldn't hear his brother.

He shivers as he felt death slowly taking him. His mind was clouding and his taking him away, but he had to tell them. He had to say he loved them and they'll be alright without him. They made it this far without him being around in Ambrose, so how is this any different? How is his death going to stop them for reach their mother's goal? It was messed up and Lester didn't want to kill or take part of it, but he might as well had killed those people in wax because he led them to the slaughter. When he goes, he'll be welcomed by the devil himself with a handshake and a smile.

He didn't want to go to hell.

He wanted to go where his grandma was.

Eyes lingered to the blonde and her brother and frowned slightly. He didn't hate them though she sent him to his grave. If it's meant to happen, it'll happen anyways--

"Lester, Lester, please!" He could finally hear Bo's voice, but it was all chocked up. "Les, please! Please don't go. Don't go where we can't follow." Lester thought by that age, his broken heart had seen it's worse. Maybe you're not too old to have your heart broken again. "Stay with me... with us! Please... fuckin' please..."

He sees Vincent and feels his lips against his knuckles, whispering a prayer, a plead, but it won't work; it never does. If did work then his brothers and he would be somewhere in Alaska fly fishing and selling Vincent's art. Bo wanted to be a teacher; he was always good with children. He thought it would be a good thing for his brothers to forget Louisiana and the swamps that strangled them mercilessly. The space between space and stars, between oceans and ice, is unmeasured by distance and heartbeats.

He manages a smile as he looks up at Bo once more. His voice was struggling and his words falling short, but he had to let them know. There are so many words he wanted to say as time slowed around them. So much he wanted to tell his brothers but no more time. He swallows hard then said, "I love you."

His words were too painful to hear by everyone in the room, both dead and alive.

"Shut up," Bo said, his words on the edge of screaming, yelling for something to save him from this fate. "Don't talk, Les! Don't--"

"I wish I was better," he said as wax dripped from the ceiling next to them. "I wish I was stronger."

"You are!" Vincent argues, his voice hoarse and strain from the lack of speech. "You're the strongest--!"

"I thought," his eyes were starting to roll. He couldn't stay any longer. "I...I thought..."

Bo held his head closer as if he was shielding him from Death himself. Why did he just watch? Why didn't he get up to save his brother? Bo's the stars, Vincent the Moon, and Lester the sun, but even the sun goes out with the world. His world. Still, he held on to what he had left of his brother close to his chest. He wanted Lester to go listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

When he looked down, he was taken back to the time he held him when he was just a day old, dark eyes filled with wonder and light. Now, the flames flicker in the swaying gleam of his irises. "Lester, I don't wanna hear another word," he's lying; Bo knows he's lying. "You're-you're just tired. Yeah," he swallowed a rock too big in his throat, "yeah, just tired." He leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Rest, Lester. Sleep... please. Please, rest. It's okay. It's okay."

Fear suddenly took over Lester as he felt the end coming. He was scared to go, scared to be alone. He wants to stay! He wants his brothers!

Vincent's lone eye looks at him as a sad but trying smile formed. "I'll be here," he promised as the smell of honey wax filled the air and sent him a sweet but bitter goodbye. "I'm right here. I won't leave. I promise... I promise." He let out a chocked sob, saying, "You must be so tired."

"We'll be right here," Bo reassures, tears streaming down his cheek. "We'll be right here when you wake up." His vision was blurring between the flames and destroyed art. You're never too old to hurt even when you're dying in the arms of your safe keepers. "Bo's gotcha, lil' Les. Bo's gotcha. Vinny and I are stayin'. Ain't nothing gonna happen t'ya."

Bo failed as a brother.

Bo and Vincent failed.

Lester gasps as a tear rolls down his cheek. He shakes slightly as he felt cold within the inferno but safe. He could hear Bo humming a song that he used to sing, he could feel Vicnent's hand still holding his, and he felt loved. The type of sibling love that he knew too late. His brothers were there with him. He gently slipped away in his brother's arms, his shiny brown and green eyes rolling back, his head lulling to the side. He lets a relaxed sigh escape from his parted lips.

As soon as Lester went lip in his arms, Bo stayed silent as he heard his final breath. His arms never felt so heavy before and so empty. He hears Vincent’s shattered and broke cry of pain, of lost, of anger and despair. The world almost stood too still for him, too slow for his own voice to reach his throat. He wanted to scream out in pain, but rage escaped instead. Anger, hatred, murder, rage.

But for a moment, just a moment, he saw Lester as a baby once more. He was a day old when he held him and he swore to himself, he promised that he’ll keep his little safe from the everything! But look at where it got him.

Lester shoved in and saved him.

He should’ve been hit. He should be dead! Not him!

Bo held his brother close to his chest and closed Lester’s lifeless brown eyes from the flames. He didn’t want his brother to see him like this, to see the monster their mother raised Bo to be. He kisses his forehead and hair, tasting his brother’s bitter blood on his tongue.

The warm wax called him back and his eyes snapped up to see his reflection in the burning mirror. He sees his brothers, and he sees those brats. They did this to his family! They took everything from him!

“Vincent, take him outta here,” he said, his voice darkening. His hand takes the knife from Vincent’s hand.

“Bo—?”

“I said get him outta here!” He shouts, rising to his face. “I gotta scare t’settle.” He looks at Vincent and his melted face next to his leg. “Get out!”

Without another word, Bo turns and started towards the two. His steps were heavy and sunk into the wax floor but it didn't stop him. The heat against his skin and the hot wax dripping on his shoulder didn't bother him at all. Nothing in this world seemed to matter until these two were died. He was the one that cut the fan belt. He was the one that started this thing even though Lester told him not to. He should've listen but his pride got in the way. Vincent only needed six more bodies, six more! And they were supposed to fit. They were going to fit, but he let his guard and greed down.

Torn between killing and not killing. Torn between hatred and pride. The lines in the dirt were washed away by rain, blood, and wax.

He doesn't remember what happened next.

Bo doesn't remember what happened when he threw the knife down into the man's neck. He didn't remember their screams or the sound the girl made as she bleed from her throat. Both could've looked like freshly slaughtered pigs but he couldn't remember it at all. His vision was still blurred from hot tears and pain. He was blinded by memories of Lester going up, fishing, playing, resting, hunting, smiling, breathing, alive! All he could think about was Lester begging him to just go to Alaska and starting over, but Bo couldn't. Vincent couldn't leave without finishing his promise to their mother. His art became alive and Bo's anger was let out on unsuspected victims.

Lester...

Lester was forgotten all over again.

By the time he was outside, the house behind him was melting at his heels. The bright fire lit up the hallowed world around him until he saw two people at the bottom of the hill by the crying woman statue. Every step seemed heavier and heavier as he came closer to the two, and the sound of Vincent's heartbreaking cries will haunt him to the end of his days.

Vincent hung over Lester's limp body as he held him close, rocking back and forth. He reminded him of a painting he once saw in the church as a child. His raven black hair was pushed to the side as he cried in Lester's neck. Lester's blood was staining on his cheek and over his eye, cherry red never looked so sick right now. After this, he'll hate the color red.

He felt too his knees next on the other side of Lester and laid his head down to rest on his stomach. He grasped his limp, lukewarm hand and held it tightly. With every scream that left Vincent's mouth, every cry and sob, broke Bo's heart even more.

Red may mean anger, revenge, hatred, and war, but it stands for something else now. It stands for lose, pain, and heartbreak.

Bo finally let's himself go as he yells into Lester's shirt.

His brother was going home but not with them.

[slashhinginghasher]

No Such Thing As A Free Ride

Ghost x Soap Hitcher AU

Part 1 Part 2

tw: light blood/gore

Oh, he needs this fucker out of his car. He needed him out at least 20 miles ago. Johnny's hands are clammy on the wheel, cold sweat pricking along his hairline. Ghost's eyes are boring into him, measuring his reaction. It doesn't feel like the anticipation of a person who's just told a really shitty joke and is waiting for you to groan or laugh or get angry. It feels like a cat waiting for the mouse to twitch so it can pounce.

Ghost never did put his seatbelt on after getting in the car.

Johnny's got a knife in his pocket, a stupid little thing with a star-spangled handle and a decal of an eagle wearing a cowboy hat, which he picked up at a roadside shop because it was so hilariously ugly. He's not even sure it'll make it past airport security when he goes home. But right now, it feels like providence.

The road is dark, no headlights or taillights when he glances at the mirrors. No oncoming traffic to run into if the car spins out. He nudges the accelerator, urging the car just a little faster. He'll have to be fast and, more importantly, lucky, because he'll only get one shot.

"What do you call a guy missing a part of his skull?" Ghost asks, flicking the butt of his cigarette out the window.

"I dunno," Johnny says, surreptitiously bracing himself. He's proud of how steady his voice is. "What?"

"Open minded."

Speaking of shitty jokes.

Jesus fuckin' Christ.

Johnny slams on the brakes.

The wheels shudder and Ghost bounces off the dashboard, head and hands. The seatbelt cuts into Johnny's chest and shoulder harder than he expected, but he can't cater to the shock of pain just yet. He whips the knife out and grabs a fistful of damp jacket with the other hand, holds the blade to Ghost's throat.

God, he hopes this cheap piece of shit is actually sharp enough to cut.

"What the fuck-" Ghost groans, voice muffled by the hand over his face, but Johnny cuts him off by the pressing the metal edge a little harder against the exposed skin of the other man's neck.

"Ride's over, pal," he snarls. "Get the fuck out." He grits his teeth and scowls, trying to look intimidating instead of pants-shittingly terrified. Ghost looks at him from the corner of his eyes.

"What're you doing?" He sounds a little nasal now. Johnny hopes he's busted the fucker's nose. His pulse, though, is infuriatingly slow and steady under Johnny's hand.

"The fuck does it look like I'm doin'? I'm sendin' you on your merry fuckin' way."

Should he shake him a little? It seems like it might be the correct thing to do, but Johnny is terrified of losing his grip.

It's so quiet. Drip of the rain and the tick-tick-tick of the cooling engine. The sound of Johnny trying to wrangle his breaths into silence. He swears he can hear Ghost blink.

"You ever stab anyone before, Johnny?"

No, no he fucking hasn't. He's never used a knife in self defense before, just for dumb tricks to impress people at parties. Ghost's skin is burning hot against Johnny's knuckles. He has no idea if he's close to drawing blood.

"It's awfully messy," Ghost continues. "Be such a shame to have clean all that up, 'specially since it's not your car."

There's a purr in Ghost's voice that's almost sexual, and it kind of makes Johnny want to die. Something warm trickles over his fingers, and he realizes in a sick rush that he's broken the skin.

"I'll say this one more time," he grits out, drawing on every cold-blooded action hero he's ever seen to keep his composure. "Open the door. And get. Out."

For an awful moment, he thinks Ghost isn't going to listen, and he's not sure if he's actually prepared to use real violence against the bigger man. It's a relief when he slowly pops open the door and, with an unwavering gaze, slides even more slowly out of the passenger seat.

Johnny thinks he's in the clear, but then Ghost's hand lashes out. He grabs Johnny by the wrist (his fingers almost touch, they almost fucking touch) and he licks his goddamn blood off of Johnny's fingers.

Johnny recoils so hard he hits the driver side door, and floors it. His arm bends painfully before Ghost stumbles and relinquishes his grip and he's able to pull it inside, dragging the door shut with it. Miraculously, he doesn't drop the knife, but he does almost cut himself with it several times as he wipes his hand off on the seat so fervently he gives himself rugburn. The other hand is gripping the wheel so tightly it hurts, barely keeping the car from careening off the road.

Ghost's silhouette fades, swallowed by distance and rain.

***

He almost cries with relief when he sees the sign for the rest stop. He's been driving for hours, checking the rearview mirror every five minutes just in case Ghost somehow materializes in the backseat, and figures he's put enough distance between them that the hitcher won't catch up to him on foot, even if he sprints. There's no one else in the lot, which is unsurprising but does make him feel conspicuous. He parks under a tree, the thick trunk providing an extra barrier between him and the road.

He swears he can still feel Ghost's spit on his skin, even though he's rubbed his hand almost raw.

The thought of falling asleep and leaving himself vulnerable makes him sick with fear, but the adrenaline crash is hitting him hard. He triple-checks the locks on all the doors and reclines the driver's seat as far back as it will go.

Eventually, he dozes off, clutching the glorious, idiotic cowboy knife to his chest.

***

The terror of the previous night is starting to feel like a fever dream in the bright morning sunlight. Johnny wakes with a crick in his neck, a bruise on his collarbone, and a sore elbow, but the parking lot is still empty and so is the road, which he can see for miles in either direction under a clear blue sky.

The bathrooms are locked, so he takes a piss in the bushes before inspecting the big map posted on the wall behind a sheet of scratched plexiglass. There's a truck stop about 45 miles away with a gas station and a diner. Johnny's stomach growls at the thought of a big, greasy American breakfast, and the knot in his chest loosens further at the thought of seeing some regular, sane people.

Stretching his back with a loud groan, he saunters back to the car. Honestly, he's starting to second guess himself a little. Nobody would straight up admit to murder to a stranger, right? That would astronomically stupid. Ghost (clearly a fake name) was probably one of those weird cunts who read autopsy reports for fun and got off on making people scared. Johnny doesn't regret kicking him out of the car though, even if the knife was overkill. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes, or whatever; don't act like a demented freak around the bloke giving you a ride if you don't want to be dumped on the side of the road.

The passenger seat is barely damp when he touches it. By the time he reaches the truck stop, it'll be like last night never even happened. He spots the cigarette lighter still rolling about in the cup holder and tosses it back into the center console. Out of sight, out of mind.

His fingers brush something sticky.

Johnny's heart leaps into his throat and his stomach plummets down somewhere below his arse. Shaking, trepidatious, he plucks the object out from the console and immediately throws it as far as possible with a startled cry of disgust. It bounces a couple times before rolling to a stop some 15 meters away on the pavement.

His stomach clenches and his throat convulses as he dry heaves, trying to choke back another scream. He rubs his hand frantically through the condensation gathered on the hood of the car to get the tackiness off his fingers because if he wipes it on his leg then it'll be on his pants-

A crow flies down from the tree, eying Johnny suspiciously before pecking at the object. It gives a few exploratory nips to the pink, stringy bit before moving on to the fleshy white sphere. With a triumphant caw, it picks the whole thing up and tosses its head back.

Johnny doubles over and vomits as the bird gulps down the bloody human eye Ghost left in his car.

[alenseress]

Elias laughs and the sound of it isn't unkind. Jon isn't sure why he expects it to be. It's somewhat pleasant, actually, to see his shoulders shake undone, forehead pressed to the roof of the car.

"Did I say something wrong?"

Elias waves him off and straightens up with a smile that gets his face all crinkled up. It's a lot of fine lines, a lot more under the unforgiving streetlights than what Jon is used to. It makes him seem more articulated, somehow. Less of a, what is it that Sasha keeps calling him, Walt Disney's frozen head?

"Not at all. You are one peculiar man, Jonathan."

Jon, he wants to correct, but doesn't know if it's appropriate — they're not really on the first name basis, are they. Elias is, sure. Was, from the very start, but the "Elias" in question never actually slips past Jon's head. So, instead, he finds the logo on the bumper very noteworthy.

"Cadillac," Elias suggests and now Jon scoffs himself.

"Are you showing off?"

Elias bops his head in a touché kind of way and scratches at his brow with a thumb carefully stuck away from the burning cigarette. "You looked like you were about to ask."

"It's just my face."

"Oh, I know."

Jon buries his freezing fingers into the coat's pockets and joins him, pressing a hip to the cold metal. Elias offers his portsigar in that sickeningly polite manner of his and Jon grabs a smoke for himself without thinking it through, mainly because he feels awkward standing empty handed. Something about them and the deserted Tesco parking lot does feel extremely inappropriate, now that he thinks about it with a cold cleared head.

Elias squints at his scrambling. "Are you uncomfortable?"

As he pockets for his lighter, Jon actually contemplates his answer. Elias doesn't rush, but does, however, mirror his stance so they end up face-to-face.

"No, I suppose," Jon clicks the wheel and takes a drag. "Are you uncomfortable?"

Cranks his head a bit and tries to roll something on his tongue along with the smoke. "Do I make you uncomfortable, Elias?"

He looks at him then, really looks at him, so prolonged and heated Jon feels like he might break sweat. But then the gaze slips somewhere above his shoulder and Elias smiles to himself as if remembering a joke.

"Somewhat, yes."

"Unfortunate."

"Not at all."

When Elias reaches out to him after a moment of silence, Jon isn't really surprised. He's not good at this but god knows he isn't entirely lost in clues, not when it comes to someone as blunt as Elias. It leaves him soured, really, the momentary rush of anxiety and disappointment. He takes a deep breath, preparing to say his best collected good-byes.

Elias runs his fingers gently along his clenched fist, so much so that Jon trails off with a stupidly hanging mouth. The nails, somewhat long and polished, scrape his dry skin up the sleeve and slip to the underside, following the veins with just their pointy tips. Jon makes a noise he's terrified to hear as his hand opens involuntarily. Elias holds it like he has held Jon's hand a million times before, like he watched it weather through the years just alongside his own, like he pressed kisses and whispered prayers into his palms. He holds it like he knows it, turning it over towards the dimm light above them.

Jon stares at his own clipper laying now cradled. Elias points a finger, connects the moles on his wrist and draws a thoughtful line to the cheap plastic, eventually tracing the pixelated design. The eye stares back at them.

"Let me drive you home, Jon."

Jon can't breathe for some reason.

"Wha..."

"You seem tired."

[strwberri-milk]

so you know the trend where someone absolutely COVERS their partner with lipstick marks from kissing them all over? that but with kaeya please (with lots of praise in between hehe) maybe reader wants to “test out” a new shade they got…kaeya not knowing what they mean till reader is all over him (///▽///)

YES THIS IS SO grrr i love this trope idk the trend i just konw the trope bc im obsessed w it

Kaeya's used to being a bit of a test subject to you. He helps with your makeup whenever you ask him, or tries something on just because you wanted to know what it would look like on him. None of it really bothers him, so it's no surprise when you call him into your room armed with a new lipstick shade.

He expects that he'll just be helping with the application, ready to grab the brush to apply it to your lips with minimal teasing as per usual, asking you what the special occasion was to be wearing makeup in the middle of the day.

You just shrugged him off, already drawing the colour on your lips and he resists the urge to turn your chin towards him and kiss you. Instead, his eye just focuses on how full your lips look, the way the stick gently pulls at them just to return in a way that's so eye-catching he knows he'll devour you if you let him.

Instead, he just stands off to the side and waits for his cue, gnawing on the inside of his cheek to try and distract himself. Your eyes meet his in the mirror and he smiles, coming closer and putting his arms around your shoulder.

"Now you're finally ready for me? After all that teasing?" he chuckles, pressing some kisses to your cheek.

"No, no I just wanted you to try this colour too!"

He reaches for your lipstick, a little surprised when you yank it from him.

"Sit on the bed. I'll apply it for you."

Kaeya does as you ask, raising a brow as he realises he never watched you blot what looked like a healthy application of lipstick. He's sure if he even just taps your mouth right now some of the colour will come off, sitting down and looking up at you as you sit on his lap.

"You didn't blot it yet? Doesn't it feel heavy to wear that much lipstick at once?"

"Silly, that's what you're for."

He has no time to think as you press your lips to his, holding his face in your hands as your thighs squeeze around his waist. You can hear him make a noise of surprise before bringing his arms to your back, pressing you closer to his chest.

When you pull back, he can see the colour has indeed faded, watching in amusement when you pull some of the colour off his own lips with your thumb.

"Well then, are we done here?" he asks.

"Not quite."

The way his eye lights up at the sight of you reapplying the lipstick makes you laugh, leaning forward to lay him down as you start peppering his face in kisses. It didn't help that he started pouting, thinking you'd kiss his lips again but the way his nails dig lightly into your shirt makes you chuckle against his ear, even pressing kisses behind it.

He's more than happy to just sit there and let you kiss him. He'll even turn his face to satisfy the pecks you press against his skin. Each time your lips meet his face he practically shivers, making the act much lewder than you may have intended it to be. He can't help it - he just gets too drunk off your touch too easily.

When you're finally done you sit back to admire the work of art underneath you. He looks a little dazed, propping up his elbows to stare up at you with a fog in his eye. You give into your desires again, pressing one final kiss to his lips that he absolutely melt into before leading him to your vanity.

The look on his face is priceless. He was already a little flustered from all the attention you gave him, clearing his throat to try and figure out what to say to you now that he can see his face absolutely covered in your lip prints. His fingers gently trace the shapes of your love, turning even redder under your lipstick.

"You are...certainly something else," Kaeya finally manages, sitting down and lowering the collar of his shirt so he can see just how far down your lips trailed.

"I wanted to show you how much I love you. And this colour just looks so amazing on you, don't you agree?"

He grins in that special way that lets you know he's got something incredibly cheesy to say, mentally bracing yourself for impact.

"Of course it looks good. It's the colour of your love~" he purrs, pulling you into his lap. You sigh good-naturedly, cupping his face in your hands.

"You are so lucky you're pretty," you tease, slotting your lips against his for the nth time of the day.

[catt-leya]

Hiiii

I was wondering if you could write a fic with the prompts; 1,9, and 17 :)

If not it’s okay! Have a good day!!

Drunk (18+) || Rick Grimes

1. This cock isn't going to suck itself

9. Don't give me that look

17. I really dont care, you look hot and I'm trying not to fuck you senseless right now

Summary: You are wearing a red lipstick at a party and Rick can't get his eyes off you.

Trigger: dirty talk, semi public sex and my smutty stuff

With your lips pressed together, you stare into the mirror in front of you and try to suppress the slight tremor in your hand.

Concentrating, you frown and try not to paint yourself on, like a clown.

It's been ages since you've put on makeup, and when your best friend Charlie brought you that dark red lipstick, you didn't expect to even touch it, but now that she's decided to celebrate her birthday the way it used to be done, with plenty of alcohol and music, you've decided to give the lipstick a try.

The only problem is that you haven't been this stressed in a long time, as you have been for the last 20 minutes trying to somehow get this nonsense together.

You hold your breath and before you can draw the final line, your boyfriend calls out from the kitchen, "Honey? Is everything okay? You've been in the bathroom a long time."

Tense, you answer loudly, "Five minutes, then we can go. Are you wearing the shirt I laid out for you?"

You hear an approving hum and turn your attention back to lipstick's instrument of torture.

Concentrating, you pull the last line and lean back to inspect your work.

You didn't go overboard with the makeup, but the lipstick is fierce.

Unfortunately, you also have no idea how well it will hold up and where you'll end up leaving lipstick marks when you're drunk too, but for now, you look good.

Especially with the white dress, you look like you did before the walker Invasion.

You set your lipstick down on the edge of the sink and turn away from the mirror to walk over to your boyfriend, who is surprisingly patiently waiting for you.

As you go round the corner, he's just rolling up the second sleeve from the blue shirt you picked out for him.

Rick looks so good in that blue shirt that you mentally pat yourself on the back.

Quietly, you clear your throat, "I'm ready."

Smiling, he turns to you and freezes when he sees you.

You stare openly at him, too, because he looks so…clean.

There's usually dirt stuck to his face and he's wearing his pants, which are probably older than you are.

But today he's wearing new pants and his hair is neatly combed back, too.

Not to mention his beard, which he's trimmed, and his eyes, which only shine brighter at the sight of you.

Rick always thinks you're beautiful. Whether you walk up to him drenched in walker blood or wearing one of his old shirts.

But today you look to him as if you had fallen straight from heaven and he was not worthy of you at all.

The short white dress hugs your thighs and the thin straps of the dress leave a lot to his imagination.

But the red lipstick takes away all innocence from the dress.

He can't help but stare at your lips and is sure that every guy at the party would turn to look at you.

Even when you're out in shorts, he sees guys looking around for you, but today they'll be lusting after you and he'll have to block everything and everyone out without thinking too long about how your red lips might leave marks on his skin.

He pulls himself together not to gape openly at you and reaches out a hand to you, "You look incredible."

The way he looks at you and tries to reach for you brings a blush to your face, and you clear your throat softly as your fingers cup his, "You look great too, Rick."

As soon as he can touch you, he pulls you to him.

He's pulled so hard on your hand that you're swaggering against him, having to brace yourself with your hand against his chest to keep from landing face down in his pretty blue shirt and soaking it completely, "Wow, slow."

Greedily, his gaze slides back to your lips and you lightly punch his broad chest, "Don't even think about it. It took me forever to get the lipstick like that, so you can give me a kiss on the cheek, but stay the hell away from my mouth."

You see his eyes slide to your neckline for a moment before he looks you in the eye again and smiles slightly, "I love you."

Your heart warms and you turn your cheek to him, "I love you too and now give me that kiss already. I deserve it."

As you demand, he leans forward and presses his soft lips to your heated cheek before murmuring softly against your skin, "You smell so damn good."

When Rick speaks as softly as he does now, his voice is a little deeper than normal and your whole body reacts to this small change.

Of course he senses it and asks in that exact tone, "You sure you don't want me to ruin that lipstick?"

His hips are pressed against you and his closeness clouds your thoughts so you almost say 'Do it', but at the last moment you break away from him and shake your head laughing, "Stop it."

Rick lowers his head a little to look at you through his lashes, knowing full well you're going for it, but you lift a finger and wave it back and forth in front of him, "That's it. Stop hitting on me like that. It's not fair."

His smile widens and he gives you a quick nod, "And I don't think the dress is fair."

Playfully, you roll your eyes and walk past him to the door, "I'm sure Charlie's waiting."

As you expected, an extremely large amount of alcohol is flowing and you wonder how Charlie was able to find these masses in the first place, but when she falls around your neck and shortly after also presses the first glass of wine into your hand, you already don't care so much anymore.

At the effusive greeting, Rick has taken his hand off your back and after Charlie has fallen around his neck too, he announces that he's going to go find Daryl.

Once he's out of earshot, I quietly ask Charlie, "How did you get Daryl to show up here? He's not into that at all."

Coquettishly, she adjusts her dark green dress and chirps, "I have some talents that can be extremely persuasive, sweetheart."

Laughing, I shake my head, preferring not to ask further.

"Red looks really good on you," she says with a wink and grabs my hand, "Come on. The others were already betting on when you'd show up and your lover would finally get his hands off you."

In fact, you never expected to find a best friend in Alexandria, let alone a group of four people who are incredibly important to you.

But now you're heading toward your friends Jon, Ellen, and Marc with Charlie, and you're pulled right in by the latter, "Well, here you are at last."

Grinning, you take a sip from your glass, "You guys act like I arrived hours late, when it's maybe half an hour. Tops."

Ellen raises her glass of bronze-colored liquid to her lips and finishes it in my gulp before wiggling her eyebrows, "So what happened in that half hour."

You take a sip from your glass, too, "Stop with the dirty thoughts. It's not like we're gonna fuck all day."

Quietly, Charlie mutters, "That's not what I heard."

"What?" you stare at her and she shrugs her shoulders with a grin, "Harry takes care of the gardens, and on the odd occasion he once told me that you two were doing it like rabbits. Besides, you both like to leave the windows open and when he cuts the bushes, he hears interesting things. Especially how your lover likes to order you to bend over and-"

Before she can finish the sentence, you tear yourself away from Marc and press your hand over her mouth, "Okay, got it. Harry? Seriously?"

Wordlessly she nods and you take dhand from her lips, "How old is he, 15? 16?"

Jon stares to the other side of the room and purses his lips, "Bullshit. He's 20 and probably so horny without access to porn that he'll happily listen to your free show."

Shit.

But there are worse things in the world than a boyfriend who loves you immensely and a 20 year old who tells around that Rick likes to make you his little slut during sex.

Sighing, you raise your glass, "Let's get another round. After all, we have to toast to my terrific sex life."

It doesn't stay with this one round and at some point Jon disappears to, in his words, 'test out what this guy is like' and by that he means a guy who came to Alexandria a few days ago and hasn't been able to take his eyes off Jon since and the other way around, it hasn't been any better.

Your field of vision wavers a bit as you look to Charlie and Marc, who are discussing whether vodka or tequila is the better alcohol, as large hands lay on your stomach from behind.

You wince briefly, but quickly realize that it's only Rick, who is completely drunk and presses himself against you from behind.

You wait to see what he's up to, and you don't have to wait long before he lowers his head and murmurs in your ear, "I hate that these guys are looking at you like they can have you."

Fueled by the alcohol, you press your ass against his crotch, "What guys?"

His breath is hot and heavy as he hums, "To your left at the bar."

Your gaze slides to the bar Rick described and sure enough, there are three men you've seen from time to time on the streets of Alexandria sitting there staring at you, one of them less in your face and more focused on your body. They don't seem to care that their leader has his crotch pressed against you, his hands sliding from your belly over your ribs and holding under your breasts.

Only his thumb brushes the underside of your breasts and you take a shaky breath, "Touch me."

He laughs hoarsely against your neck, "Dirty girl. Right here? Where everyone can see how well your tits fit in my hands?"

You don't take your eyes off the three men and breathlessly say, "Yes, Rick. Now."

You're tipsy, but Rick is drunk to the core and doesn't give a damn that you've invited him to touch you in public, and reaches out with his right hand to grab your breast.

His hand fits your boob perfectly and you gasp softly, "They are still looking at me."

"Why are you telling me this?" he growls against your neck and as he squeezes tighter, you sigh softly, "Because I want you to realize that they can stare at me as long as they want, but you're the one who gets to touch me like this."

A 'fuck' slips from Rick's lips as you press harder against his hardening cock, and he sends a shove prayer to the heavens that he's had a few too many glasses, but not so much that he can't fuck you anymore.

Your nipple in his hand tightens and sliding a hand to your thigh, you gasp softly, "I have a secret to tell you, Rick."

He starts spreading wet kisses down your neck, mumbling between them, "Hmmm," so you say in a raspy voice, "I didn't have panties to go with the dress because you would have seen everything under the white dress, so I didn't wear any at all."

It takes a few seconds before it gets through to Rick that you're naked down below, and he could just stuff his fingers in your pussy right now without having to worry about disturbing layers of fabric first.

His cock presses uncomfortably against his pants and just as he's about to slide his hand under your dress, Charlie shrieks, "Guys. For real now? We're standing right next to you."

Tighter than Rick would have given her credit for, she grabs his wrist and tugs his hand off your thigh, "Rick Grimes. Stop drunkenly groping my best friend right now while you're still at my party."

Rick freezes behind you and you can't hold back your laughter as you see Charlie's face, "Oops?"

At that, you wonder how she even knows it's her birthday. Especially since you can't even tell what month it is, but you actually trust Charlie to have been counting, so you don't question it further and she shakes her head with a grin, "New episode for Harry?"

Confused, Rick looks first at Charlie and then at you, "Huh?"

It occurs to you that Rick doesn't know anything yet about you having a 20 year old in your backyard and instead of telling him, you gently push his hand off your boob and intertwine his fingers with yours instead.

Reluctantly, he allows you to pull his hand from your soft tit and breathes a feather-light kiss on your cheek as you look to your best friend with eyes glittering with anticipation, "We'll be right back."

He can't help but grin victoriously in the direction of the three idiots as you pull him by his hand through the clusters of people and Charlie yells after you over the music, "Not in my room."

To be honest, he doesn't even know where you're going with him, but he's sure he'll get his money's worth, so he stumbles more than walks after you and lets you push him into a small bathroom that adjoins the living room.

He takes a few steps inside and his eyes have to adjust to the sparse light of the candles standing around before he turns to you and watches you push the door shut with your back and look at him with huge eyes.

The candlelight flatters Rick's already handsome features immensely and you can't stop looking at him.

You've barely seen Rick since you arrived at the party a few hours ago, and now you wonder how that was even possible.

The shirt sits tight against his shoulders and his forearms are only accentuated by the rolled up sleeves, making your heart beat faster.

Your eyes wander back up to his face and the way a few curls fall into his forehead makes your knees go weak. He looks so bold and like your biggest dream at the same time.

God, he's beautiful.

It's almost ridiculous how easily he can read what you're thinking about in your face, and the look you're giving him right now leaves nothing to the imagination.

He realizes he doesn't have the smallest ego, but when you look at him like you'll do anything for him, it just drives it up.

"Get on your knees," is all you need to hear to groan softly, and though your first reaction would be to do exactly what he's asking, you bat your eyelashes seductively, "You're ruining my lipstick with that, Rick." And at the same time you couldn't care less, but you just want to tease him a little, which works very well, because by doing so you draw his gaze to your mouth and his drunken brain can't force him to look you in the eye instead.

When you part your lips to take a deep breath, he doesn't care how rude he sounds as he growls, "On. Your. Knees. This cock isn't going to suck itself."

You hesitate for a brief moment, wondering if you want to take it any further, but decide against it because you can't wait to hear Rick's deep growl yourself as he thrusts his tip all the way down your throat.

So you take a few small steps towards him and submissively drop to your knees in front of him and look up at him.

He would probably never forget the image of you kneeling in front of him in your innocent dress without panties and about to spread your red lipstick on his hard cock.

How you're looking at him with wide eyes and he could take it all from you.

The cool tile under your knees makes the pressure between your legs a little more bearable as you watch Rick pull his pants and boxers down to his thighs and hold his cock in front of your face.

He loves to see you waiting to finally start and when you open your pretty mouth, he doesn't hesitate for a second before pushing his tip between your lips and having to grab the sink rim next to him at the sensation to keep from pushing his cock all the way down your throat.

Still wide-eyed, you look up at him as he fills your mouth and he reaches into your hair, "Don't give me that look."

You know full well that looking at him while you suck him off drives him crazy, but you save that privilege for right now and temporarily fix your eyes on his cock, sliding it into your mouth again and again, leaving red screams from your lips each time.

Rick grip in your hair is so tight that you can barely move more than back and forth and when it almost hurts, you put your hands on his thighs and dig your fingers in.

It's not long before he's just holding your head in place, moaning as he thrusts deep into your throat again and again.

Each thrust brings tears to your eyes and when he slides so deep into your mouth that your nose hits his pubic bone, you gag.

The gag reflex makes Rick's cock twitch and when you think you can't breathe anymore, you look up at him.

Staring down at you with his mouth open, he can't believe he deserves you.

Seeing you like this is more than he deserves.

How tears run down your cheeks because you don't want to disappoint him and try as hard as you can not to gag.

How all your lipstick is smeared and your fingers cling to his thighs as he fucks your mouth.

Another vibration goes through his body as you start to gag again and he pulls you away from his cock moaning.

His whole body is screaming to cum in your mouth and make you swallow it all, but he knows you're wet and without your panties, it's probably sticking to your thighs, which he's dying to see.

As soon as he lets go of you, you support yourself with your hands on the cold tiles below you and take a gasping breath.

Your makeup has become so indifferent in the last few minutes that you wipe your cheeks with the back of your hand and dry your tears, not caring if you now look like something out of a horror movie.

You take one last deep breath and then softly gasp, "I love you. I'm sorry I couldn't stop gagging. I can do better than that."

Only then do you look at him again and he bites his lower lip hard, "I know, honey."

You feel the need to please him, and that includes giving him the kind of blowjob he can actually expect from you.

But today went anything but as you expected, and he nods to the door and growls, "Go."

Pleading, you look him in the eye, "Don't send me away. Let me try again. Please."

You couldn't stand to have to wait outside the door while he jerks off because you weren't able to satisfy him.

But before you can go back to begging, he brushes a few strands of hair out of your face and smiles gently at you, "Relax. I'm not sending you away."

He puts a hand to your chin and strokes your swollen lower lip with his thumb, "You did good, honey."

Briefly, he slips his thumb between your lips, but before you can suck on it, he withdraws his hand and murmurs, "But you're probably so wet you're soaking the whole floor. Do you really think I'd want to jerk myself off when you're more than willing and ready to let me fuck you? I want you to go to the door and brace yourself there, understand?"

You have to blink several times before what he wants from you gets through to you, and then you push yourself up off the floor.

Your knees are soft with excitement and the alcohol in your body makes you feel everything even more intensely when you turn your back to him and he immediately grabs you by the waist because you're swaying a bit.

Slowly, he pushes you towards the door and breathing heavily, you rest your palms on the it.

You don't even have to look to know that Rick is standing inches behind you as he softly breathes, "Do you want me?"

You squint your eyes and push your ass toward him, "Yes, Rick."

Gently, he pulls you away from the door a little more, so that your hands slide a little lower and you're bent forward so that all he'd have to do is lift your dress to thrust his cock into you.

But where would be the fun in that?

He puts both hands on your thighs and drives them up to your butt, so he can put your dress down on your hips.

Naked and vulnerable, you stand bent over in front of him, presenting your most intimate part, as he takes a step back and sighs proudly, "I knew it was already running down your thighs."

At his words, your pussy tightens and you realize yourself how embarrassingly wet you already are for him.

Silently, he watches you as you whimper softly, trying to hide how much you need it, and when you snivel, "Please" he finally buckles and steps behind you again, "I'm right here, honey."

You lower your head and moan miserably as he slides his cock long through your pussy before attaching his tip to your entrance and gripping your hip firmly, "Good girl. Be loud for me."

You've always been a louder partner in bed, and Rick never thought he could get off on it like this, but the first time he slept with you, it went to his head how loud you could get and end up screaming his name.

Even now you're gasping loudly as he presses himself inch by inch into your wet warmth and growls himself, "Fuck, how can you still be so fucking tight after I fuck you almost every day?"

You know he doesn't expect an answer and as he's inside you with his entire length, your legs start to shake and you whimper, "You have to hold me."

Quietly he replies, "I always hold you, don't I, my darling?" And your heart leaps.

No matter how long you've been together, you still haven't gotten used to how important you are to Rick and what he wouldn't do for you.

You trust him unconditionally, and that's what it takes to engage in the kind of sex you have with him. You know that he wouldn't force you to do anything you don't want to and he knows exactly how far he can go.

He gets closer behind you and you try to pull away from him a bit, so that he's not quite so deep inside you.

Then his grip tightens and he growls softly, "You like it when my cock is inside you, huh? Be a good girl and squeeze it. I know you feel stuffed, but do it for me."

When he talks to you like that, you can't help but do as he says, and you moan in sync as you tense your muscles and feel every inch of his cock deep inside you.

He pulls out of you far too slowly for your liking, only to thrust into you hard again, and you have to use all your strength to keep your arms from buckling and slamming you head against the door.

Groaning, he thrusts into you again and each time you have the feeling of feeling him deeper inside you.

As he gasps your name you lift your head a little and look over your shoulder at him, almost cumming for the sight alone.

His face flushed, he bites down hard on his lower lip and the vein on his neck stands out clearly.

You're barely able to make anything but high-pitched noises when your eyes fall on the door and you wince, "Rick, the door."

Between thrusts he growls, "What about it?"

His cock hits the right spot inside you at that moment and you jerk around him and yip, "The party's right on the other side. They can hear everything."

That's when he grabs your hair again and pulls your head back enough to growl in your ear, "I really dont care, you look hot and Im trying not to fuck you senseless right now."

With that, your hands slide off the door and Rick presses your back against his chest.

Before you can even bring a sound past your lips, his mouth is already on yours, pushing his tongue into you without restraint.

Again you tighten around him and notice a knot forming in your stomach and whimper into his mouth, "I'm cumming. I can't hold it back."

In a low voice he grunts, "Let go. Tighten around me and show me how much you want me."

That's when a high and drawn out sound releases from your throat and with the first contraction Rick's cock starts twitching too and gasping he fucks us through your climax.

You cling limply to Rick's hand as he sets you down and pulls up his pants with his free hand, "I love you."

You smile weakly at him and murmur, "I love you too."

All the adrenaline is pumped out of you and even Rick seems a little sluggish as he helps you clean yourself up and then wipes the remnants of your make up off your face with a wet rag and says softly, "You looked really great with that red lipstick, but you don't need that at all. You look downright gorgeous as it is."

Gently, you smile at him and take him by the hand as you open the door and step out.

Immediately, a handful of heads turn to look at you two and Charlie appears next to us with her lower lip pushed forward.

Reproachfully, she looks at Rick, "Can you please tell a few gentlemen your secret to making her scream like that? I want to experience that sometime."

Then she looks at you and laughs softly, "Maybe you should get the remnants of your lipstick off your lover's face too."

You jerk your head around and sure enough, Rick looks like he's kissed a bloody wound.

He looks at you questioningly and you set about salvaging what can be salvaged with your fingers and sigh softly, "Why does that lipstick actually look better on you than it does on me?"

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