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thewritetofreespeech · 1 day

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pairing: Aemond x Reader

summary: your husband leaves for a hunting trip, but before he leaves he provides you with a gift to keep your fealty secure.

tags: heterosexual sex (m/f), chastity belt [fictional c. belt usage, don't come for me], oral (female receiving), cowgirl, aemond is a meanie to his wife, but also a sweetie, mentions of the other members of the Green but not present.

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The bells seemed to have not stopped ringing for days now.

First, to herald the new prince, Maelor, into the world. Then to call his father home.

Aegon had overheard of the Baratheon tradition of going hunting before the birth of a child. Claiming a new stag and presenting the pelt to the mother, which he thought was a splendid tradition. The hunting, not the presents for the mother; although any excuse to get out of the castle was Aegon’s ultimate goal. He assembled some of the finest hunters he could find, or at least on such short notice, and sped off into some forest while his wife labored through the end of her pregnancy and had her toil finally ended in the wee hours of the morning.

You were happy for Helaena. To have her child here & health and her agony ended. But also, selfishly, that your own agony might be ended too.

Your husband had gone with hers. Aegon insisted that family should be involved in this new process he was creating, and made his brother come with him for the hunt. Aemond did not fight him too hard. He too would look for any excuse to leave the castle, particularly when his half-sister & her family were around, and enjoyed hunting like any man of arms might when the opportunity struck.

However, before the princes left your husband presented you with a gift that had turned your ill-planned parting into a tortuous affair.

“I still don’t see why any of this is necessary.”

Aemond paid you little mind as he fastened the last strap and locked it. Admiring his work as he sat back on his heels. “I feel that my fidelity is being called into question.”

“It is not your fidelity, dearest one.” He told you. Standing to his full height above you as he slipped the key into his pocket. “A beautiful woman, alone, for some days’ time without her husband. I am protecting you from those less virtuous than you.”

You frown and drop your skirts. “Oh please.” As if anyone would dare touch you, or even glance in your direction too long, with Aemond the Fierce as your husband. Even before your marriage he had managed to scare off any suitor or admirer that came near. Deciding that you would be his and he would not have competition on the matter. His jealousy had not gotten any better since you were married, but luckily you found it endearing; in an odd, Targaryen ‘take no prisoner’ kind of a way. “I will be with your sister most of the time anyway whilst you are gone. Unless you think her a threat now?”

Aemond smirked. “I don’t know. Helaena does have a weakness for the oddest, cutest things.” He leaned in to give you a kiss, which you return despite your sulking pout.

“How am I to relieve myself with this thing?”

“There is a small hole.”

“Charming.”

“The point is that you, nor anyone else, can relieve you.” His hand came up to cup your cheek. “Not until I get back.”

You frown at Aemond again. Once again feeling your fidelity was being called into question, but now also your virtue. “Please. You think I am some nymph unable to curb my baser instincts while my husband is away? That the moment you leave I’ll just start humping the couches like a dog.” The prince scoffed. Amused by your joke. “I will be fine Aemond. I am sure I can last a week without ‘relief’ as you put it.”

“See that you do.” He gave you another kiss. Longer this time and you kiss him back properly, without the pout, as you realize this was your goodbye kiss. “Tell Helaena to push out that babe sooner rather than later. I’d hate to have to miss you by the time it’s all said and done.”

That had been a tenday ago, and you had been eating your words since the sixth.

At first, it was fine. You were indeed busy tending to Helaena. Keeping her comfortable. Keeping her entertained. You had not yet known the joy of being with child, but from where you were sitting across from her it seemed not to bring the joy often described. Your situation did not get problematic until night fall.

Alone in your bed, you had trouble falling asleep that first night without Aemond beside you. His gentle breathing not at your back. Had your bed always been this big? The second night sleep came a little easier, though you still missed your husband. By the third night, you really missed him. You suddenly realized that since your marriage not more than three days had gone by without Aemond sliding to your side of the bed to lay with you. He was not the braggart like his brother or other more crude lords at court, but he was quite the vivacious lover; when properly motivated by affection and praise.

Now alone, you were suddenly aware of your body and how much it had changed since being with Aemond. How, in a way, he had conditioned you for him. Before it would have been no problem for you to go without such pleasures, but now you seem unable to make it not 3 days without touch. Coupled with the fact that you couldn’t do anything about it with the damned belt on you were all the more frustrated in your situation and desired nothing more than for Aemond to come home.

You watched as the gates opened and Aegon’s party rode in. The horses galloping to a halt before the procession stage. No dragons this time. Aegon said it would take the sport out of.

The newly anointed father leapt from his horse and bounded up the steps of the small stage to Helaena. His eyes & smile bright as he looked on his newest son, Aegon took Maelor from her arms gently to hold him for the first time. It was all rather endearing.

Your attention turned from the happy scene to the steps again as they creak under foot. Aemond’s tall, lean frame now in full view. You find it difficult to breathe all of a sudden. As if your chastity belt was suddenly wrapped all the way around you like a corset. You grip the arms of your chair tight to stay strong and stay still. Aware that you were still in public and in front of your family after all.

“Look brother! Look at my new son!” The second prince walked over to his brother to look upon their newest addition. Giving his new nephew the smallest hint of a smile as he looked down at him. Your core quaked violently.

“Congratulations brother. Well done, Helaena.” The princess smiled shyly at her brother, and their mother seemed pleased for once at this happy moment.

Aemond snapped and made some sort of gesture at a servant, who scurried up the steps and handed him some ivory pelts from a chest that Aemond then gave to Helaena. Foxes, perhaps. Or maybe rabbits. You couldn’t be sure which as your sister-in-law gushed over their softness and color while you smiled & nodded along. Your mind completely focused on Aemond. He was so close now. You could practically smell him. The iron. The leather. The sweat & sun from riding back this afternoon. You have to swallow to keep the drool pooling in your mouth from leaking out. You had to get out of here. You had to get out of this…thing!

“If you’ll excuse me, I must wash the road off and rest in a proper bed if I am expected to entertain later.” Aemond’s voice cut through your thoughts. As if he heard you.

“You do not wish to stay and see the babe?” Aegon asked. Holding his new son up with a look of ‘what could be better than this?’. You could think of a few things, but as a lady you held your tongue.

“He’s not going anywhere, is he?” Aemond jest. To which his mother rolled her eyes and he kissed Helaena on the cheek. “I will see him at the feast, I’m sure.” He turned and finally looked at you. You felt your heart stop and your skirts grow moist before he offered his hand to you. “Come wife.”

You take his hand, digits trembling almost as much as that first time you took it, and stand. You kiss Helaena’s cheek on the other side, wishing her congratulations again, before Aemond lead you off the stage and into the palace. Luckily, by fate or design, the procession meeting ground was near your apartments. So it was a quick walk before you were at your door. They open for you, and Aemond only let out a stern “get out” to the servants, who only have mere seconds to flurry away before you were on each other. Your lips crashing against Aemond’s along with the rest of your body as you back him into a corner against the door like you felt you had been backed into all week.

“Get this fucking thing off me.”

“My, my, such language.” Aemond was grinning maliciously, but pridefully, down at you. “I leave for just a week and my sweet wife’s lips turn into that of a Braavosi sailor.” You gasp, nearly pant, as Aemond brushed his thumb over your bottom lip. Seeming fascinated by them. As if they were some intricate puzzle for him. “Did you miss me, issa jorrāelagon?”

You whimper as the High Valyrian rolls off Aemond’s tongue. Your thighs shivering as at the thought of it and those delicious purrs between them again. “Yes. I did.”

He seemed pleased. “I missed you too.” He kissed you again. Slower, sweeter, deeper this time, rather than tongue & teeth. It was a good thing Aemond’s arms were securely wrapped around you as his kiss made you swoon. “I would think of you every night.” His lips brush against your lips, your cheek, your chin. His hands caressing you softly everywhere as you stared dimly up at Aemond. Drunk from him. “While Aegon and his pack rutted with their camp followers, I would go to my tent and think of you. Stroke my cock along with your key around my neck, think of you waiting for me, until I could no longer take it anymore.”

You whimper & whine at Aemond’s words. A part of you elated to have that effect on your husband, but part of you also extremely jealous. You had been forced to wait while he had not. That seemed entirely unfair and should be corrected immediately.

“Aemond…please. I’m tired of waiting. Please take this off me so I can be your wife again.”

Your prince smiled at you. Pressing you back now as you kiss this time towards the bed. You had intentionally worn the simplest dress you had to the arrival. Beautiful in design and beadwork, but nowhere near the detailing of lacings and ties most of court lady fashion had. All with the intention of Aemond being able to get it off you quickly, which he succeeded at, and lay you on the bed. “Hells. You look radiant.”

“Aemond please…” You beg again. Bosom heaving. Your skin on fire at even the briefest touch of his fingertips against your calf. Tingling in your nakedness in front of him, save for this accursed belt.

He took pity on you it seemed and opened his vest with a few quick snaps. Producing the key from around his neck. He still kept it there, it seemed. Aemond gave you a long look, as if holding on to this final, torturing moment with some perverse pleasure at your suffering, before he undid the lock and helped you out of your ties.

You moan, loudly, with your head tilted back as it finally came off. Release from the belt was almost as pleasurable as the full release you were surely about to receive. Your skin able to breathe fully. Your limbs one with themselves again. It was enough to make your head spin, only to be brought back to you when you felt Aemond spread your thighs and kneel before you.

“A-Aemond! Wait! I haven’t washed properly in---mph!” He doesn’t seem to care.

Though you had bathed regularly since your parting, the belt made it difficult to clean yourself fully. Trust in this, you had tried. Every angle. Every side. Every idea imaginable to get around this accursed thing, but to no avail. Aemond seemed unbothered by this as he devoured your cunt like a starved man. That skilled Valyrian silver teasing your clit. Making you squirm on the bed, to the point that Aemond had to hold your thighs apart to the point of bruises. Gods, you hoped for bruises. The shift from no attention to this sudden onslaught was enough to drive you to madness. Overstimulated, you cum quickly with a sharp cry. “Oh Gods…..!”

Aemond doesn’t leave you until your walls stop quaking around him, then he lifted slowly from between your legs. “Still sweet as ever, issa jorrāelagon.”

The prince stripped out of his clothes with a speed you did not think possible of their usually intricate clothing. You bit your lip. Core throbbing even though you had just climaxed at the sight of your husband. Lean form. Alabaster skin. Pure white save for the hard, blushing cock pointed out at you. “Aemond…”

He chuckled. Probably finding your lust blown eyes and subconscious spreading of your legs for him amusing. “So needy.” He was enjoying this. Enjoying tormenting you with his fine figure and devilish smirk. People often whispered about how cruel Aemond was. You never believed them. But perhaps you would have to amend your thinking on the topic as it was cruel to have him on offer now and still make you wait.

He crawled on to the bed and on top of you. Your lungs filling with air and releasing in a sigh as you feel his weight on top of you. How you had missed even this part. To be close to your prince. To have his presence mix with yours. Not just the sex, but the intimacy was something Aemond had trained your body to as well. You hope to never be parted from it again.

“I’m rather tired from the journey.” He whispered to you. Panick welling up in you as he stroked your hair & cheek sweetly. He wasn’t going to stop, was he? You would punch him in that beautiful face if he stopped now! No a judicator in the land would convict you. “So, you will have to do all the work this time, sweet one.”

He gripped your hips then and flipped you over. You yip at the sudden change in equilibrium, but then moan as you felt his hardness brush against your sex. The length of it perfectly aligned to slide between your folds. By fate or design you could not be sure, but what you were sure of was that you needed it inside you.

“Take from me what you want, issa jorrāelagon. Let me see your rapture now that I am home. You deserve it.”

You whine at Aemond’s words and kiss him desperately. As a thank you? Just the burning need to touch him?

You lift up and line his cock up properly with your entrance. The wetness from your sex and anticipation allowing him to slide in easily, and you moan like a whore at the feeling of him inside you again. “You have to move, issa jorrāelagon.” Aemond reminded you. His tone sweet and teasing. This spell he had on you working over your mind as you are unable to think, just obey, and start to move your hips.

Aemond watched you from below. His eye and sapphire fixed solely on you as you writhed in pleasure on top of him. Every bit the nymph you claimed not to be just a short while ago as your body and mind were lost to you in the sole pursuit of pleasure.

“Aemond..! Aemond…! So good!”

“I know, my love.” He must be close. The grit of his teeth, and the fact that he used your nickname in common instead of High Valyrian, his tell. “I’m close. Just a bit more.” You weren’t sure if you could last that long as you were suddenly bursting all around. Body shaking. Gasping for air. Luckily, it seemed just enough for Aemond and his hips arched up to push deeper inside you as he spilled his seed.

You collapse on top of your husband. Sweaty, wanton, spent. Aemond, for his part, seemed to catch his breath rather quickly and flipped you back over. “What are you doing?”

“Truly you did not think that would be the only time I had you.” You cry out when Aemond thrust his still hard cock into your sensitive sex. “We have near a week to make up for.”

It was much later in the afternoon by the time Aemond felt he had properly ‘balanced the scales’. Your body was exhausted, but content. Laying with your husband in the afterglow, and your ruined bed, a tonic for your soul you didn’t know you needed. “I have a gift for you.”

“Another one?” You tease your prince, who smiled and untangled himself from you to go over to a chest you hadn’t realized was in the room. You recognize it though as the chest the servant had brought to Aemond at his command when he presented the pelts to his sister.

“I caught this one when I was out on my own. Aegon & his troupe were off to the east with their wine and crossbows. I went west, as no quarry would come with their revelry. Seemed only fitting that since I found it on my own, my wife should have it.”

It was a pelt of pure onyx. Soft, but not nearly as soft as what Helaena had gotten earlier. This was the pelt of a beast, not prey. “Aemond, it’s beautiful.” Your fingers sift through the fine hairs. Feeling the power of its former master almost transfer into your fingers. “Thank you.”

“I am glad you like it. Perhaps I shall have to find you a new one, in nine months.” You glance over at Aemond out of the corner of your eye. Quick to understand his meaning. Quick to realize that Aemond wants his own son now that he’s seen Aegon with his second.

“Perhaps.” Time would only tell. You move your beautiful new fur to the side and crawl into Aemond’s waiting lap. “But if you leave me here for a week while I suffer alone, I will kill you. Do you hear me?”

Aemond laughed in the face of his own danger. “No. I would never leave you. This tryst was amusing, but I will be damned before I follow a Baratheon’s tradition before our own.” He lifted your hand and kissed it softly. “Our kin will have dragon eggs in their beds, not pelts.”

“Good.” You agreed and kissed him fully.

You make love again. Slowly, intimately this time. The kind of joining you both hope brings children. You would have to bathe and get dressed for the welcoming feast later that evening. Aegon’s welcome home and Maelor’s official presentation, along with all the spoils the men had caught on their hunt. But for now, it would just be you and Aemond. Enjoying each other and being back in one another’s arms.

Your last present though mysteriously vanishes. You have no idea where the belt went to, or what was done with it. Aemond had no answers. But you have a sinking suspicion it was moved somewhere for safe keeping; lest you find it and burn it, as was your threat long after.

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muwapsturniolo · 2 days

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Hockey!Matt ᯓ★ Headcannons

Warnings…. there is some nsfw ahead but there is a warning before it starts but otherwise, it's pretty chill

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who.... Is a hothead on and off the ice. He couldn't help it really, ever since he was a kid he had a temper and it only got worse when he made it to the big leagues.

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who...Is the best center and enforcer, never losing a face-off and always making sure whoever has the puck has a clear path to the goal.

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who...Is so focused on his job he doesn't dabble in relationships unlike his brother and teammate Chris.

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who.... Has a bad article written about him by a specific sports journalist.

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who.... Meets said sports journalist at a press conference and can't help but find her fiery attitude attractive.

"You called me a brute if I remember correctly." He smirks, his eyes looking her up and down. "I actually said the energy you radiate when your head is in the game resembles the hulk who is a brute force. I never called you a brute specifically Sturniolo. If you're going to call me out, make sure you know what I said."

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who...Becomes obsessed with her after that small debacle.

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who... Reserves a seat at every game just for her, making sure it's the best seat so she can see him play.

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who... Pays for her to come to every game, covering travel fees, hotel expenses, as well as dining.

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who...Takes her out for dinner after playing against the Golden Knights, the two of them having a great time drinking, eating, and laughing.

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who...Wakes up hungover with the journalist in his bed naked....and a ring on their finger.

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who... Is oddly calm about the situation despite the girl waking up and freaking out.

"Oh god, oh god! Did we really do what every blackout drunk people do in Vegas and get married?!" Matt stands up and pulls on his boxers, walking over to the bathroom to brush his teeth. "We did, why are you complaining?"

"Why aren't you complaining?"

"Because now I don't have to face the fear of asking you to be my girlfriend when I can just call you my wife."

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who... Does just as he said and calls her his wife from here on out, treating her like a wife as well.

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who...Demands that she attend his games and wear his jersey.

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who... Points to her after every goal, sometimes even skating past and blowing a kiss.

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who... Always wears one of her signature star barrets when playing, or has it clipped to his pants pocket on a normal day, claiming it's his lucky charm

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who... Asks her to move in with him after 4 months of being "married".

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who... Despite being more of a dog person, knows she likes cats, so he gets her one as a move-in gift, claiming it's their child.

「 ✦ 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐋𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✦ 」

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who... The dominant energy they both have makes things in the bedroom exciting.

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who... Loves to fuck her in the locker room after a home game win, soon taking it back to their penthouse.

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who... Takes his frustrations of losing out on her in the bedroom, endless rounds until he feels like he 'won'

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who... Worships her, laying bewteen her thighs for as long as she will let him.

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who... Won't admit it but loves when she attaches a collar around his throat, yanking on it as he drives his cock into her cunt

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who... Loves to fuck her while shes in his jersey, it was something about seeing the black and yellow jersey attached to her body as she begs for him to go harder that releases an animalistic drive in him

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who... Loves to show off the scratches on his back in the lockerroom, enjoying the way his teammates gape at the deep scratches.

ᯓ★ Hockey!Matt who... After winning the stanley cup gives his girl the most passionate and soft sex they ever had before officially asking her to be his wife.

Purrrrr new trope! i'm very excited for this one and i'd love to do blurbs for this how i did with bunny!!

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt girl #smut #matt stuniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo headcanon

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choslut · 3 days

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˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ⌇ LUCKY GIRL. featuring d. sawamura.

↻ you might be a ditz, but daichi thinks he’s lucky to have such a pretty ditz as his good luck charm.

tags : panty kink, bimbo!reader, locker room, panty fucking, slight dubcon, overstimulation, squirting, clit stimulation, light dirty talk // wc. 0.9k

author’s note : sorry this one is so late (by like a day) !! work managed to finally bite my ass last night and i literally passed out the moment i got home. woke up, got tired and remembered i totally forgot to post this :( welp better late than never, i hope you guys enjoy this one (notes n reblogs always appreciated) <33

this work is NSFW. minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT.

that fucking g-string.

DAICHI will never understand why you decide to dress your absolute sluttiest when you’re attending his practices, wearing tiny skirts and tiny tops that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination.

it also doesn’t help that you’re sitting up in the stands either, because every time he looks up, he can just about make out the outline of your puffy pussy against the sheer pink fabric of your panties.

fuck, he can barely even call them panties at this point.

it’s hard to focus on directing the team when his girl is up there in the stands tapping away at her phone with her perfectly pristine acrylics that he paid for, showing off her miniskirt and a pair of panties that he also paid for.

fuck you.

“you tryin’ to get me bricked on purpose or what, babydoll?” he’s cornered you in the common room, backed you up against the locker with both hands on either side of your face. one of his hands come down to trail against your side, toying with the fragile string of your panties.

you, on the other hand, stare up at him dopily, with not a single clue in the world what he’s talking about. “not sure what you mean, babe. you don’t like my outfit?”

daichi scoffs. “no, it’s not that. it’s just…” he twirls the string around his thick finger before snapping it back against your hips. “you’re distractin’ me.”

you’re such a fucking ditz, the way you’re looking at him. your lashes (fake) flutter as you stare at him, eyes wide as he plays with your panties. “i thought you liked these ones. i wore them for good luck.”

“i only need good luck at games, baby, not at practice.” does he have to spell it out for you? “turn around for me, angel. hands on the lockers.”

you obey, as always, presenting your barely covered ass to your sexually frustrated boyfriend proudly. daichi’s large hands push up your skirt and scope your ass, a low whistle escaping his lips as he drinks in the beautiful sight of his girl bent over for him.

you may be stupid, but you’re his, and as long as that’s the case, you’ll do whatever he wants. daichi silently praises himself for landing such an easy catch as he pulls down his shorts and boxers in one fell swoop, latching his hands onto the meat of your ass.

you only realise he hasn’t taken your panties off after he slips his cock through the seat.

“baby!” your whine is shrill, but daichi pays it no mind. “this is my favourite pair! you’re g’na ruin ‘em!”

“i’ll buy you a new pair, doll,” he grunts, slowly moving his hips back and forth. he isn’t inside you but he’s inside your panties, and he relishes in the way the silk rubs against the underside of his shaft whilst your pussy drenches him from above.

it’s sick. it’s nasty, so much so that daichi tips his head back and groans.

he pulls backwards, and the girthy veins on his cock drag through your drenched cunt. he pushes forward and his tip just catches your clit, nudging it before meeting resistance at the silk front of your panties. it’s an amazing feeling, and he loses himself to it completely.

meanwhile, underneath him, you’re mourning the ruin of your favourite g-string, but you can’t ignore the way daichi feels so hot and heavy against your weeping cunt, his tip nudging your clit and making you see stars. “o-oh, baby…”

“what is it, doll?”

you bite your lip in embarrassment. “might cum soon…”

are you being serious right now? he’s barely done anything, barely even fucked you, yet you’re squirming against him, acrylics digging into your fleshy palms as you squeeze your eyes shut and try to focus on anything but the feeling of his mushroom tip poking at your clit.

daichi regrets that he can’t be inside you when you cum, but god does he feel it. you let out another shrill whine when you climax, cunt growing ten times sloppier as you push yourself backwards to meet his thrusts.

“want you- hah- want you to cum in my panties. please, baby.” your eyelids are flickering from overstimulation but you couldn’t care less, your empty brain now filled with the potent need to make your boyfriend cum all over you.

“shit, is that what you want, babydoll? want me to cum all over your favourite pair?” even though he isn’t inside you, daichi swears he can feel your cunt clench, and so he speeds up, tip bumping your overworked clit over and over and over until-

you cum again, but this time it’s even messier than the last time, your juices all but spraying everywhere and staining daichi’s shorts. he pulls out of your panties just in time to jerk himself over the curve of your ass, translucent white ropes of his release painting the hot pink silk of your panties and dripping down in between your thighs.

he’s lucky enough to catch you just before you crumple to the floor, and as he admires his handiwork, daichi comes up with a wicked idea.

“don’t wash these, baby. want you to wear them to my next game.” he can almost imagine the silent look of shock forming on your face.

“for good luck, right?”

PREVIOUS : BITE ME ft. miguel o'hara NEXT : SURVIVAL ft. sniper mask

liked that? check out the WE'RE SO BACK main masterlist.

#haikyuu #daichi sawamura #haikyuu x reader #daichi sawamura x reader #haikyuu smut #hq #hq x reader #hq smut #daichi smut #daichi x reader

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azulock · 1 day

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I will raise you, poly!Nagireo where neither is used to sharing (Reo having always been given what he wanted all for himself due to being an only child and Nagi having been alone and all) and they stumble a little, trying to figure it out, until finally they get the hang of it, Nagi being chill as a counterpart to Reo's being passionate and fiery.

Anon, this is the polycule from hell, you are aware right? But lets go, I'm the world's most honest genie and your wish is my command

Reo x reader x Nagi polycule

⊙ Taking "why not both?" literally is def not as easy as it may seem. Esp when the both in case are those two idiots. Neither are very domesticated when it comes to relationships, they do really need to be broken in

⊙ Reo stands on the more anxious attachment extreme of this line, terrified of not being choose to an obsessive degree, it's easy to see him getting jealous, he can't really hide it

⊙ Nagi lives on the opposite extreme, being the more detached, distant type. He is just as annoyed at the chance of not being choose, but less so out of some deep fear and anxiety

⊙ Jealousy is a big hurdle in the relationship for both sides, but it's even worse because both of those guys display it differently and need different approaches

⊙Reo is clear as day about being jealous, he will try to hide it but he really can't. The signs are all there, and at the least bit of pressing he will straight up say what he feels. It makes it easier to deal with him, and all that anxiety ends up making him more on board to finding a solution. It takes a lot of reassurance and gentle words, but he probably comes around it before Nagi does.

⊙ Nagi is not at all good with feelings, and his reaction to getting jealous is to withdraw, get distant and pretend nothing is bothering him at the same time. It takes time, a firm hand - maybe even some rough words - and a shit load of patience but eventually you get him to admit what he feels, and only after some more hard world do you get him to accept it at the end. It's a lot but it works out, so it was worth it.

⊙ Honestly, in this relationship it's easier to do thing with the both of them or to do it alone, because if you choose just one, the other will most likely get upset, at least in the beginning

⊙ At those earlier stages if you leave to do something with Reo when Nagi just wants to stay home, Nagi gets upset. But if you stay home when Reo wants to go out, then Reo gets upset, it's very much a balancing act

⊙ This uncomfortable situation goes on for a little, even breaking into a few arguments, which brings everyone back to stage one again. After a while tho it settles down, and they start to adjust to the situation

⊙ Usually Reo is the one remembering important dates, proposing to go out and do something, getting excited to plan vacations together and stuff, while Nagi is the person for when you want to just stay home, order some food and play videogames. And once they settle down they start accepting that you can choose one or the other and yall don't need to be doing things all three together at all times

#Ask and you shall be answered #Anonymous #reo mikage x reader #mikage reo x reader #nagi x reader #seishiro nagi x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #hope this is good nonnie I really tried but this one was hard for me

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imnotyetfound · 2 days

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My take on Five/Lila - and why they were endgame

I’ve seen so many people say that Five and Lila didn’t make any sense, and I just disagree. I've tried to really motivate why, and also why I see them as endgame. Feel free to agree or disagree.

First of all, Five and Lila share a common background of being raised plus trained as survivors and weapons. Five was molded by his time in the apocalypse, the Commission and his ruthless upbringing within the Hargreeves family, while Lila was similarly trained and manipulated by the Handler. Both of them were forced into brutal, high-stakes environments from a young age, developing a sense of independence, ruthlessness, and survival instincts that the rest of the family can’t fully relate to. We see this especially in Five and Lila’s difficulties in showing emotional vulnerability and trusting others. This shared experience means they both understand the cost of their traumatic upbringings and can relate to each other’s emotional scars in ways others just won’t be able to. So already by this, they’re somewhat bonded from the start.

In other similarities both Five and Lila possess extraordinary intelligence and tactical thinking. They challenge each other in a way no one else does. This has been an ongoing thing between them, bouncing off each other and sometimes teaming up. It’s also what drew them to work on another mission together in S4, there has always been some kind of pull/push there. Personality-wise both Five and Lila have a dark sense of humor and a cynical outlook on the world. But despite the cynicism, they still manage to eventually relax and find humor in each other’s company. The lighter moments we’ve seen between them at times have been an interesting contrast to their otherwise serious and violent lifestyles.

I do believe their shared backgrounds and personalities created a bond that was then further strengthened during the years they spent lost in the subway together. Isolated from the rest of the world, they literally only had each other for company. The intimacy and trust that grew between them was inevitable. When you have no one else to rely on, you’re going to develop a relationship stronger than under normal circumstances. So over those years, they must have grown close in ways that no one else could fully understand. Even though we didn't get to see every detail of how it unfolded (because the season was way too short), it’s not difficult to imagine.

I’d also say they naturally grew a bond stronger than with any other character at that time, except for the one between mother and child which is why Lila’s need to be with her children would always make her go home if given the chance. Five knew this and it’s the reason he kept the solution from her for months.

Now, to my thoughts about their actions in regards to Diego as this is often brought up. The argument that Lila cheated on her husband with Five is understandable from a moral perspective, if we see it as just that without any context. But when you consider the circumstances it is way more nuanced. You have to look at not only the environment they found themselves in, but also the emotional and psychological journey they went through together. Their relationship was ultimately forged over a shared background and then several years of isolation. Then you add to the fact that Diego seems to have treated Lila like crap in the years leading up to the isolation, she said it herself he was always moping around and complaining while she sacrificed her life to stay at home and take care of the kids. She even told him she needed a break to reassess their relationship. I do believe her and Five had somewhat already begun an emotional affair before the isolation, the way they were sneaking off together and clearly wanted to keep their thing separate from Diego and the others. Yet they still didn’t get physical until they settled down, believing they weren’t gonna find a way back.

Also, it’s important to here consider the strength of the bond, as I mentioned earlier, that Five and Lila must have developed over those years. They knew each other better than anyone else by the end. Spending every day together in a survival situation with nothing else around would likely create an unparalleled level of intimacy and emotional closeness. This bond would probably transcend Lila’s previous relationship with Diego, and maybe even Five’s bond with his siblings. It’s been years since he returned to them and they had all grown in separate directions. Lila and Five however had recently experienced something life-changing together, and it is unfair to dismiss the strength of their connection as something unethical or out of character when their reality had shifted so drastically from when the show started.

Another important point here is how the relationship with Lila allowed Five to finally be "human" and emotionally open in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to be before. Five was obviously emotionally detached as a result of both his past trauma and the burden of being a hyper-intelligent man in the body of a boy. With Lila, he had the chance to just feel love and trust without worrying about anything else. So I do think this outweighs his “betrayal” against his brother as people claim.

Now on to how and why Five and Lila were endgame. I’m convinced that Lila did love Five despite her choice to leave their isolation. To me this was cemented as she didn’t deny her feelings when Diego asked her straight out. If she wanted to make Diego feel better she could have easily denied her feelings for Five to reassure him. Yet even when asked twice she couldn’t do it. There was also Lila’s look of relief when Five returned to them at the end. It was Five who Lila allowed to comfort her after she said goodbye to her family, trusting him in her most vulnerable moment instead of blipping back to Diego and the others. These events showed the deep trust and emotional intimacy that still existed between them after returning to “the real world”. Despite her saying it was over. I also want to add here that Lila took Five’s hand as they were dying, the look between them was for me at least silently saying they loved each other.

So all in all I do believe that the connection and love between Five and Lila was authentic. It also made sense. They’re able to understand each other’s emotional complexities, including their darker tendencies, without needing to change who they are. Still their time together seemed to actually have softened them both when they finally had the chance to settle down, almost as if they were healing from past trauma together. This would forge a relationship that no one else could replicate without going through the same experience. Making Five and Lila a reasonable endgame, which they also were in my eyes considering they died holding hands.

----------------------

Summary: Five and Lila's shared background of trauma, matched intelligence, and similar personalities means they make sense. They shared a bond that was only further strengthened during their years of isolation. For 7 years they only had each other to rely on. This inevitably created an intimacy and relationship that couldn’t be compared to what they had had with anyone else. Outweighing what they did to Diego when you consider all context. Lila and Five ended up being human and vulnerable with each other on a level they hadn’t been with anyone else. Ultimately Lila’s refusal to deny her feelings for Five, her relief when he returned, him comforting her as she sent her family away and then finally them dying hand-in-hand, showed that they were endgame.

#five/lila #fivela #five x lila #tua s4 #tua #five hargreeves #lila pitts #wrote this whole thing after getting annoyed at the fandom for just dismissing Five and Lila with no valid points #only because they want to see Five miserable with a mannequin #and Lila in a crappy marriage because they love Diego #I love Diego too but him and Lila didn’t make any sense except for physically #she got pregnant by accident when they’d known each other for a very short time #her and Five however had a solid ground before getting together #wrote it for Reddit originally since there was a lot of hate there

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lxvsiick · 2 days

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CRUSH ON HIS TUTOR | KIM WOONHAK X READER

PAIRING: younger! tutee! kim woonhak x two years older! tutor! fem! reader

SUMMARY: Woonhak has a cute crush on his two years older tutor, Y/n.

GENRE: fluff, crush, imagine

WORDCOUNT: 1.4k

A/N: just a cute short imagine about woonhak having a crush on someone who is older -- i’m still on campus and i really want to go home ( ￣＾￣) i am writing notes but at the same time thinking about story ideas so at one point i wrote down my story idea into my notes 🧍🏻‍♀️welp, enjoy!

✩°｡⋆⸜ 🎧✮

Laughter echoed around the small dorm room as Leehan and the rest of the group were in the middle of a chaotic video game session. The air was light, filled with jokes and playful banter, but Woonhak barely noticed any of it.

He was sitting on the couch, controller in hand, staring blankly at the screen. His thoughts, however, were nowhere near the game. They were on her—Y/n, his tutor, and Leehan’s friend. His mind kept replaying little moments with her: the way her lips quirked up when she caught him making a mistake during their study sessions, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was concentrating.

"Why do I keep thinking about her?" he wondered, frustrated at how easily she occupied his thoughts. "She’s two years older... She probably doesn’t even think of me that way."

“Yo, Woonbaby!” Jaehyun called out, waving a hand in front of his face. “You alive over there?”

He blinked, startled, and realized all five of his friends were now staring at him. He hadn't said a word in the last ten minutes, and clearly, they’d noticed.

“Seriously, man,” Riwoo laughed, “you’ve been completely zoned out. What’s up?”

“Did you even hear anything we said?” Leehan added, raising an eyebrow as he smirked.

The tips of Woonhak's ears turned red. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to shrug off the attention. “I—I’m fine. Just... thinking about stuff.”

“Ohhh, thinking about stuff?” Taesan said with a teasing grin. “Does this stuff happen to be a girl?”

The room immediately erupted in laughter and catcalls. Woonhak's face heated up even more as he tried to wave them off, but his friends weren’t having it.

“Look at him! His ears are red!” Riwoo pointed out, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Come on, dude, who is it?”

“Yeah, spill it,” Taesan chimed in. “You got a crush or something?”

“No, I don’t!” Woonhak blurted, his voice a bit higher than usual. He knew denying it only made them more suspicious, but he couldn’t help it. His flustered reaction only fueled their teasing.

Leehan leaned back, smirking knowingly. “You know, Y/n mentioned something the other day. She said you’ve been spacing out a lot during your tutoring sessions.”

At the mention of her name, Woonhak stiffened. “She—she said that?” he stammered, his heart racing.

“Oh yeah,” Leehan continued, clearly enjoying the situation. “She said she’ll ask you a question and you’ll just sit there, staring at your notes like you’ve never seen them before.”

His friends burst into laughter again, and Woonhak wanted to sink into the couch and disappear. He could feel his face burning as he tried to play it cool. “That’s—she’s exaggerating...”

Jaehyun wasn’t letting it go, though. “Yeah? Then why’re you turning red just hearing her name?”

Before he could stop himself, Woonhak blurted out, “Did she say anything else about me?”

That made the room go silent for a split second, and then all hell broke loose.

“Aha! So there is someone!” Sungho shouted triumphantly, slapping Jaehyun on the back. “I knew it!”

Leehan grinned, crossing his arms as he gave Woonhak a teasing look. “So you’re interested in what she thinks, huh?”

“I’m not—I mean—” Woonhak sputtered, feeling more flustered by the second. His mind was racing with possibilities, wondering if Y/n had noticed him the way he’d started to notice her. He thought about the way she’d laugh softly when she caught him spacing out during their tutoring sessions, how she’d patiently explain things again even though she must have been annoyed.

“Dude, you’re so obvious,” Riwoo teased. “You’ve got it bad for her, huh?”

Woonhak threw his hands up in defeat. “Okay, fine, whatever. Yes, maybe I’ve been... thinking about her. A little.”

The room exploded into cheers and shouts of “I knew it!” and “Finally!” Woonhak sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to live this down anytime soon.

But underneath all the teasing, a small part of him wondered—What did she think of him?

✩°｡⋆⸜ 🎧✮

The library was quiet, save for the occasional rustling of pages and the distant hum of air conditioning. Woonhak sat across from Y/n, his books spread out in front of him, but his attention was far from the math problem she was explaining. Instead, his gaze kept drifting back to her—how her lips moved as she spoke, the way her hair fell over her shoulder, and how effortlessly confident she always seemed.

“Are you even listening?” Y/n asked, her voice cutting through his thoughts.

Woonhak blinked, realizing he hadn’t heard a word. She was now waving a hand in front of his face, her brows furrowed in slight concern.

“Uh, yeah—sorry,” he stammered, sitting up straighter and pretending to refocus on his notes. “I’m listening.”

She wasn’t convinced. Leaning back in her chair, Y/n crossed her arms and gave him a knowing look. “You’ve been spacing out a lot today. What’s on your mind?”

His heart raced at her question. What’s on my mind? You. Always you. But there was no way he was going to admit that. Instead, he quickly waved it off, trying to sound casual. “It’s nothing, just... tired, I guess.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, clearly not buying it but deciding to drop the subject. “Alright, fine. Let’s move on to the next topic.”

As she began flipping through her textbook, Woonhak felt a surge of boldness. His mind raced with possibilities. Maybe now was the time. They were alone—or at least he thought they were. Taking a deep breath, he decided to go for it.

“Hey,” he started, his voice a bit too casual, “just out of curiosity... what do you think about younger guys?”

Y/n paused, her pen hovering over the page. Slowly, she looked up, her eyes narrowing in amusement as she caught on to his line of questioning. “Younger guys?” she repeated, a teasing smile forming on her lips.

He nodded, trying to appear nonchalant, though his heart was pounding. “Yeah, like... would you ever date someone younger?”

Her smile widened, clearly enjoying his attempt at subtlety. “Hmm,” she said, tapping her chin as though giving it serious thought. “I don’t mind younger guys—younger guys who can pass their exams, that is.”

Woonhak felt a spark of hope. His confidence surged, and before he could think twice, the words were out of his mouth. “Okay, so... if I ace my next exam, will you go on a date with me?”

The question hung in the air between them, and for a moment, time seemed to slow. Y/n blinked in surprise, and then, to his relief, she giggled softly, shaking her head.

“You’re cute,” she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Alright, Woonhak. You ace your exam, and I’ll go on a date with you.”

His heart leaped. He couldn’t believe it. A date. With her. He tried to play it cool, but his grin betrayed him. “Deal. I’ll study harder than ever.”

Just as he was about to bask in his newfound confidence, a chorus of whispers and stifled laughter erupted from behind a nearby shelf. Before he could react, five familiar faces popped out from behind the bookshelves—his group of friends, who had clearly been eavesdropping the entire time.

“Whoa, Woonbaby! I didn’t know you had it in you!” Jaehyun teased, clapping him on the back.

“Did you really just ask her out right here in the library?” Taesan added, grinning from ear to ear.

Woonhak's face turned bright red as his friends swarmed around the table, throwing in playful jabs and comments. “Shut up, guys!” he hissed, trying to wave them away. “Go away, you weren’t supposed to hear that!”

But they weren’t about to let it go. “Woonhakie's got a date! He’s in love!” Riwoo sang in a mocking tone, while Sungho pretended to swoon dramatically.

Meanwhile, Y/n watched the scene unfold with an amused expression, trying—and failing—to hide her laughter. She looked at Woonhak with a teasing smile, her eyes dancing with amusement. “Looks like you’ve got a fan club.”

Mortified, Woonhak buried his face in his hands. “I can’t believe this...”

Leehan leaned in, smirking. “You’re really going to have to ace that exam now, Woonhakie. No pressure.”

Still blushing, Woonhak groaned. “Can you guys just leave?”

His friends finally relented, walking away while still snickering among themselves. Woonhak let out a sigh of relief, but the embarrassment still burned on his face.

Y/n, clearly entertained by the whole situation, leaned forward and gave him an encouraging smile. “You’ll be fine. Just focus on passing, okay?”

He nodded, still flustered but more determined than ever. “Yeah... I’ll do my best.”

And as they returned to studying, Woonhak couldn’t help but feel that, despite his friends’ teasing, the day had turned out pretty well.

✩°｡⋆⸜ 🎧✮

MASTERLIST

#kpop #boynextdoor #boynextdoor x reader #kim woonhak #woonhak #bnd x reader #bnd imagines #boynextdoor au #boynextdoor fluff #boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor ff #boynextdoor woonhak #woonhak x reader #woonhak boynextdoor #woonhak imagines #woonhak bnd #kim woonhak x reader #lxvsiick </3

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auspicioustidings · 10 hours

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I am sure I must have yapped about this before but consider alpha Ghost who despises omegas. Roba was an omega and he used every bit of his biology against Ghost to try and break him. He just cannot be around omegas now, he hates it when any of his pack even smells like one from being out and about.

It means their pack beta Gaz gets treated like their omega to an extent. It's not like he hates it, it's nice that they want to spoil him, but he also wants to look after someone y'know? Everyone thought he'd present as an alpha when he was growing up and he still feels the instinct to protect those weaker than him. It maybe gets to him a little that he feels like an alpha, he is a beta and he gets treated like an omega.

He does not expect to present late. He certainly does not expect an omega scent match to be the thing that triggers it. You're everything he has ever wanted and he knows he will break Ghost's heart if he brings you home. So he doesn't.

You are rejected by your scent match and it hurts. You didn't realise how awful it would be, how much it would wreak havoc on your system. Alphas can reject a scent match and not be too affected but omegas? It is horrific.

Soap smells you on Gaz no matter how much he tries to hide it. His fucking scent match and Gaz is hiding them. The others were too distracted by Gaz's new alpha scent but Johnny always did have the best nose, and he is not going to let this go. He knows Ghost's feelings and he loves the man, but he will not ignore their omega to spare him from confronting his trauma.

You don't trust him when he tracks you down. Another scent match here to break your heart all over again? He's so upset at how sick you've gotten over it, gets to his knees and begs for a chance for his pack.

Only when you finally let him take you home, Ghost growls at you. One of your scent matched alphas growls at you. You want to die. You run away while Soap and him get into a shouting match.

You meet your last alpha while you are running. Price has no idea what is happening when you crash into him as he's walking the path to home. He never thought he'd have an omega. A scent match at that? It's more than he deserves he thinks. He's happy about you running into him, you're his and it feels wonderful. Only you are wildly distressed while smelling like Soap and he needs to figure out why.

He tells you to stay put because he can feel Ghost through the bond, feel his turmoil. He should never have left you, but his concern for his pack mate took priority.

The thing about meeting all your scent matches in quick succession is that it nose dives you into a heat. But they hate you. One rejected you, one brought you to another so he could growl at you, one left you when you were in distress. You are so distraught that you can't go to them because you are certain they will only be disgusted that you would ask them for help with your heat.

You find the nearest shelter. It's a crumbling shed out the back of their property. It doesn't do much to keep out the cold, there are leaks that get worse when it starts to snow through the night. You wish there would be more because you are burning.

The snow storm muffles your scent. The only reason you don't die is because Ghost braved the storm to go grab more firewood from the shed.

There he is, the alpha who hates omegas with his scent matched omega in heat, in pain and in danger. He walks away. You accept death would be a kindness now.

Except you don't die because he sends the others. You don't die because even though he cannot stand to be around you or to smell you, he gives his pack to you. He sits in the armchair all night listening as his pack bundles you into the pack bedroom and knots you through your heat while desperately trying to combat the hypothermia that was setting in.

It's months and months of angst and tension and misery as the pack tries to divide their love between their pack mate and their omega. Ghost hates himself every time he growls at you and scares you. You hate yourself for tearing this pack apart.

There doesn't seem to be a happy ending here until a pair of betas visit town. Maybe Ale and Rudy are just what this pack was missing to make it whole. Maybe they soothe all those frayed edges, act as a buffer. And maybe, just maybe, one day Ghost and you realise all at once that somewhere between you starting to growl right back at him and him starting to make an extra cup of tea for you, you fell entirely in love.

The rest of the pack can't believe it took you two idiots so long to realise it.

#mhairidrabbles #rambling once again about omegaverse I fear #not even hot smutty rambling #just angst with a happy ending rambling

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fiveredlights · 3 days

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Hello could we please get more sim racer/single dad max? :)

set in the 2024 dutch grand prix (where i delayed the Bad Zandvoort Experience one year because i didn't want ellie and max's first meeting of daniel to be hampered by the accident.... and it fits my little timeline better)

“You asked. About Ellie’s name.” Daniel’s eyes go wide, but he doesn’t say anything, still breathing in the gas mask attached to his face.

Max has never told this story before, pushed it down into the deep recesses of his soul, scared someone would pull it out and turn it into something used to hurt him.

Victoria and his mother were told her name came from him reading baby names off his phone until he heard one he liked. Telling them the real story somehow felt worse than coming home at seventeen with a baby daughter and a failed racing career.

“I was about to go for my super licence test when the hospital called. Told me I had a child, and her mother didn’t want her. I had to go and pick her up otherwise she’d be put into adoption, or something.I got there, they handed her to me and asked for a name. And all that was in my head was you making that video for some guy who you barely knew. I thought maybe if she’s only ten percent as kind as you were then everything would be okay. So that’s why she’s called Danielle.”

Max looks back up to see Daniel blinking away tears. “Fuck, sorry. I wasn’t trying to make you cry,” he stands up and starts wiping away the tears when Daniel reaches up and grabs his hand. He moves their linked hands over to his chest, holding it. He can feel Daniel’s heartbeat under their hands, a solid thump, thump in his chest.

“Max,” Daniel says desperately. He takes off that mask—which is so, so stupid— rubs their linked hands over his heart again. “I can’t—I don’t know how—”

He’s looking at Max with that raw desperation, pleading with him to please, please get what I’m trying to say, Max. You have to know, Max. You have to—

“I know,” he cuts in before he does something even more stupid like reaching out with his other hand, the hand that’s currently broken into different pieces, the reason why he’s in a hospital in the Netherlands rather than racing. “I know, Daniel.”

Max squeezes their hands three times before bringing it over his own chest and hopes Daniel knows too.

#fellas is it gay to think about your crush making a video on wishing you luck for your super license test when you hold your daughter #for the first time and have to choose a name for her? oh it is? brilliant #maxiel #five writes #📝 ask game #sim racer/single dad max

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zweiginator · 11 hours

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Religious art who is so meticulous he presses his socks every morning and probably irons his bed, patrick likes to get him messy, not even corrupting him but loosening him up by messing up his hair, tugging on it or getting abit of jelly on his shirt. He knows art doesnt mind, he can tell he kind of likes it and the break in his routine and his life. He loves seeing his child like joy over things as he builds up things like taking him to the dirty magazine section at the local convenience store and encourages him to say how he really feels looking at the girls in them

Patrick smiling at him and treating him like a champ and calling him a dirty dog

patrick being the only one that art lets mess with his hair or crinkle his perfectly pressed shirt. if anyone else were to do it he’d get upset and shut down. but when his best friend does it, it makes him feel alive. art is obsessed with how he’s perceived, his flawless reputation which ironically is tainted by his connection with patrick.

patrick convincing art to unbutton his shirt a bit, drink a beer or two with him at the bar. tells art he can go home right after but to just let go a little bit. getting art tipsy and red in the face, three buttons undone instead of just the one underneath the collar.

patrick asking art what features he likes in the girls who are walking by. whispering into his ear and feeding art french fries, not caring that the ketchup is runny and a bit has fallen onto his favorite pair of trousers.

and art just shrugs. he feels too bad doing this. but patrick goes first. says he likes a brunette’s big eyes. art asks him why.

“you don’t know why you like what you like. you just know you like it.”

and art finds that pretty profound. and he’s just with his best friend anyway. nobody else can hear.

he sees a girl in the corner with curly hair and tight jeans.

“i like her hair. i like how her butt looks.”

patrick nods as he sips his beer.

“atta boy.” pats art on the back.

so they do that all night. until they’re both struggling to stay standing and they’re tired. patrick takes a cigarette from his pocket.

“i’m not taking you home.”

art furrows his brow.

“i’ve seen at least five girls who’ll let you go home with them. go talk to one.”

art looks worried. “how do you know that?”

and patrick just rolls his eyes. “stop acting like you don’t know you’re good looking.”

#ask #challengers

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kesujo · 2 days

Text

Chapter 6: Sick Days - Part 2

Previous chapter here.

Shortly after Parker re-entered the bedroom, upon Jessica’s insistence, he was once again completely nude along with Jessica, trapped against her shapely bottom rubbing against his groin and his growing erection. “Hmm, there’s your cute little friend,” Jessica sang in satisfaction, Parker’s hardening member shamelessly poking at her upper thighs.

Parker wanted to complain, but he knew his words would fall on deaf ears. But maybe, if he tired Jessica out quickly enough, she would permit him to leave. So, instead, he did the opposite;. he took a second to align his rod with her core before swiftly pushing himself inside her.

“Oh, fuck,” Jessica yelped, muffling her voice with the blanket, “Eager, are we? Did you finally give in?”

“The sooner you tire out, the sooner I leave.”

“Ooh, so you’re planning on tiring me out?” Jessica’s salacious remark only earned her a groan from Parker. “Are you going to fuck me so hard that I can’t walk tomorrow morning?”

“Shut up,” he grunted softly, pushing his dick inside her until he felt the pillowy, firm softness of her ass pressing against his crotch. “You just want to fuck, don’t you? You just want to cum a few times with the dick of your husband’s best friend, right? If I can’t get out of it, then at least I can give you what you want as quickly as possible so that I can go back home.”

“Tell me more,” she whispered back, guiding his hands, which were resting on her hips, up towards her boobs. “Tell me how much of a dirty slut I am.” Parker’s hands were placed on her breasts, cupping the sizable mounds in the palm of his sturdy hands. He obliged in Jessica’s silent request, closing his fingers around the pliable skin and feeling the velvety softness in his palms and on his fingers. “Tell me how much of a cheating whore I am, to be fucking my husband’s best friend.” Parker grimaced again, a surge of guilt invading his body parallel the wave of pleasure at the feeling of Jessica’s hot vaginal walls, sticky with her—and possibly, his—own cum squeezing his meat in a vice-grip and her tits giving way to his every kneading and squeezing motion. “Fuck, yes. Milk my slutty tits dry, fuck my naughty ass red, and then deposit all of your semen straight into my greedily waiting pussy.”

“You—you want my cum so badly?” The words coming out of his mouth felt so unnatural, but if it was going to bring Jessica closer to orgasm as it proved to do in the past, then he was willing to do it. “Does your slutty pussy really need my cum so badly, even after receiving that first load?”

“Yes, fuck, god yes,” Jessica replied, her voice indicative of her increasing breathlessness. “I can’t get enough of your cock or the hot feeling of your thick cum filling up me up with your cock stuffing my pussy to the brim. Just the thought of my body vibrating while succumbing to an orgasm with your dick stuffed deep inside me, stretching my tight little cunt is enough to get me to soak my panties…”

As their pace increased, Parker started to hear the audible noise of her butt damp with cum slapping against his groin, moist with a similar liquid, and tried to adjust accordingly. However, Jessica was having none of it. “What are you doing?” she whined, adding a brief rotating, grinding motion against his groin every time Parker’s dick kissed Jessica’s cervix. “You really don’t need me to tell you that you can be rough, do you? After all these times, why do you still insist on waiting for me to ask?”

“Well, for one, if I just start off by doing what you want, doesn’t that mean that you’ve won?”

Jessica couldn’t help but giggle at that. “What? Won? Oh! You mean when I said that thing about feeling like this is a game of trying to ‘soil’ you?”

“Yeah. Plus, I mean, you aren’t normal in many regards.”

“Aw, thanks,” Jessica replied, playfully shaking her ass against his groin. Parker groaned, gritting his teeth as another wave of ecstasy rose up his body.

“I-I meant, that most girls don’t like it as rough as you do, I bet. And I feel like if I get used to starting off too rough, then I’ll just default to it if I ever have sex with other girls.”

“What? You mean to tell me that, with your looks and your dick size, that you aren’t having sex with other girls?” Parker refused to award the teasing remark a response. “Fuck, well, they’re all missing out … maybe I can introduce you?”

“You’re—what is wrong with you?”

Jessica simply giggled. “That can’t have been the only reason though, right? That you’re scared you’ll get too accustomed to being rough when fucking a girl?”

“Well, I mean, it’s loud, isn’t it?”

“You think Hunter can hear the sound of my ass slapping against you through two doors? Fuck me harder, or I’ll give Hunter something to hear.”

It was an extremely precarious situation. Ordinarily, or ‘ordinarily’, Parker would just take this as a final warning from Jessica and use his full strength. However, now he had to make sure to strike a delicate balance; use enough strength to please Jessica, but not so much that it created noise that would draw Hunter’s attention.

So, Parker’s solution was just to gradually ramp up the speed and intensity until the sound of sex was audible to Parker, but still soft enough to not drown out the sound of the running heater of the apartment. “You’re such an attention seeking bitch that you resorted to pretending to be sick so that you could get the attention of both your caring husband and my cock inside your pussy, huh? Are you content, being my personal sex toy while your husband labors just a room away?”

“Yes, fuck Parker, your—” her tone quickly shifted, her body freezing in an instant. “Hunter.” The one word caused Parker such an overwhelming amount of panic that his entire body froze—luckily, the same wasn’t the case for Jessica, who got over her initial shock quickly. “Scoot back, create as much distance between us as possible, and pretend to be asleep.”

Parker obeyed, extracting his sopping wet dick out of Jessica and shifting over, closing his eyes the millisecond he heard the doorknob turning. “Jessica? How are you?”

Jessica, who had also shifted to the edge of the bed while still making sure that the blanket was still adequately covering the two, resumed her ‘sickly’ act. “I’m good,” she replied in a whisper, motioning Hunter to lower his voice.

Hunter, although confused, obeyed as he asked, “What’s Parker doing on the bed?”

The question made Parker start sweating bullets. In the split second that followed, Parker imagined all the fallout that would happen after Hunter learned of the truth: Hunter yelling at his wife, Hunter’s disdainful look at him as Parker collected his clothes and left … but none of it came. Instead, what came was Jessica’s calm, steady voice, “He’s asleep. He didn’t tell you, but he mentioned how, last night, he worked late and fell asleep while kneeling on the bed just now. I didn’t want him to sleep in such an uncomfortable position but didn’t want to disturb you, so I pulled him up onto the bed and tried to create as much distance so he wouldn’t catch my cold.”

“I see. Why’s he on the side closer to the wall though?” Parker saw that loophole in Jessica’s explanation as soon as he heard what she had to say but resisted the urge to spring up and concede and beg for Hunter’s forgiveness. He didn’t really have a choice but to rely on Jessica, a decision that turned out to pay off.

“Well, he was heavy, so I had to use my entire body to get him onto the bed, which ended up with him being on the other side of me.” Parker couldn’t believe it. How calm Jessica and Hunter were despite how bad the situation must’ve looked—although maybe it didn’t look as bad from Hunter’s point of view, not knowing that the two of them were naked underneath the covers—but even more so, he couldn’t believe how believable Jessica’s response was. “What, did you think I was cheating on you with him? Or that Parker would take advantage of his best friend’s sick wife like that?”

Parker dared not even grit his teeth, as much as that teasing question made him want to stuff her mouth with a thick cloth. Although, honestly, Jessica might like that.

But what was more nerve-wracking was the following silence, a few seconds that felt like several eternities, resolving with Hunter’s chuckle and a statement, “Yeah, you’re right. I tried to imagine it and couldn’t even do that. He would never.” Parker let out an internal sigh of relief. Was it that Hunter was being naïve, or was it that Jessica was really that convincing? Parker didn’t know, nor did he care to know—all that he could hope for was that Hunter still hadn’t caught on. “Well, when Parker wakes up, tell him that lunch is on me. I gotta get back to work.”

“OK, love you.”

“Love you too.”

With that being his final words, he closed the door as signified by a final click! At the noise, Parker let out a more audible sigh of relief, Jessica turning around and smirking at him. “Hear that? You would never.”

“Jessica…”

“I mean, he’s right, though. If you had your way, I would’ve never been able to see your magnificent dick, much less fuck it as many times as I have already.”

“Speaking of—”

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“I mean—I mean, Hunter almost caught us twice.”

“But that’s what makes it fun! That made me so wet, come back inside me and see for yourself.”

He knew that he should just get it over with, but for whatever reason, that brief interruption completely drained all his motivation to do so. “I really…”

“Come oon, my slutty little pussy is getting cold and lonely without your hot, thick cock inside it,” she whined, closing the distance and grabbing Parker’s hand, grinding her ass against Parker’s erection.

He could feel his dick twitch in excitement, but the guilt pounding at his brain overwhelmed the lust. “Hunter was so trusting of me, and I’m here fucking his wife…”

“Aww, you really are a great friend, aren’t you?” Jessica’s playful demeanor subsided and was replaced with a genuinely concerned voice, “Don’t think of it like that then. You can just think of me as the bad guy and yourself as the victim. Because, I mean, you sort of are.”

Parker just scoffed at that. Honestly, in the past few weeks, he had been griping with the notion that he was technically a victim of rape, as weird as it sounded considering he was a guy, talking about a girl that was, well, ‘raping’ him. It went against all his preconceived notions of the word but knew it to be true. However, that wasn’t even the thing that made Parker scoff. “Then isn’t it a bit weird for a ‘rapist’ to console her ‘victim’?”

“Don’t word it like that!”

“Then what would you call it?”

“I would say, ‘adventuring partner’.”

“That’s—”

“Enough, my pussy isn’t going to fuck itself. Come on, quickly.”

Parker sighed, although the brief exchange did make him feel a little better about the whole situation somehow and acquiesced with her demand. He quickly found out that Jessica’s claim did have merit; despite having been inside her just minutes ago, Parker found considerable difficulty in pushing his entire length back inside Jessica’s hot hole.

“Mmph, fuck, you’re stretching my naughty little cunt so much,” Jessica groaned, her hips rotating slowly, easing herself onto Parker’s cock. “God, you feel so much bigger…”

“You really are an attention-seeking slut.” The words were mostly spoken out of frustration than lust, his words reflecting a fraction of his true thoughts. “You almost get caught cheating by your husband, and your pussy’s response is to get tighter?”

“Fuck, yes, I’m such a cock-addicted cumwhore,” Jessica moaned, her walls contracting even more in response to Parker’s dirty talk.

“Do you love the idea of risking your marriage just for some dick so much? Do you love feeling my cum blasting your pussy walls with semen so much? Next thing you know, you’ll want me to fuck you while Hunter’s watching. Is that what you want? Feeling your pussy stretched wide open by my cock while your loving, caring husband watches on in both parts betrayal and lust?”

“Fuck … fuck, Parker…” Jessica’s words becoming more and more of a jumbled mess, a slight yelp escaping her lips as Parker’s cock brushed the entrance to her infertile womb. Jessica’s hands, massaging her own tits and pinching and squeezing her own nipples, were slowly replaced with Parker’s, who used the leverage to increase the force and speed of his thrusts. With his orgasm coming at a rapid pace, Parker abandoned all inhibitions and wildly chased the euphoric high, disregarding even the increased volume of Jessica’s plump ass striking Parker’s cleanly shaven crotch at every stroke, until he let out a final warning grunt before burying his cock deep inside the wanton women’s core, a second load of thick, white substance splashing fiercely against Jessica’s womb.

Jessica’s hands came to her mouth, muffling the yelping moaning sound that her body was uncontrollably creating in response to Parker’s orgasm, the second dumping of semen inside her bringing the seductress closer to the edge. Jessica let Parker ride out his orgasm, so it came to a surprise to her to feel him continuing to thrust inside her despite being spent.

“Parker, you can stop.”

“You-you didn’t cum yet.”

A smile found its way onto Jessica’s lips, patting the back of Parker’s hands, still attached to her breasts, saying, “It’s OK. Get off the bed.”

Parker almost couldn’t believe it. Was Jessica letting him go this quickly?

“Thank god.”

The words escaped his lips as he reached over to grab his clothes, Jessica wordlessly letting Parker put his clothes on and climb out of the bed over her. However, his gradually building hopes were quickly dashed the moment he climbed off the bed, Jessica grabbing his hand and saying, “Kneel at the edge of the bed, and eat me out.”

“No.”

There was no way. This—this—surely was where Parker had to draw the line. Fucking Jessica while Hunter was on a business trip? Fine, he couldn’t possibly catch them in the act. Fucking Jessica while separated by a non-soundproof apartment wall? Fine, just don’t make any noise. Fucking Jessica inside a bathroom while Hunter was enjoying a meal at the table, potentially sitting on the very chair they were having sex just minute ago? Fine, at least Hunter had to open the door. Fucking Jessica in her shared bed with Hunter while Hunter was just a few doors away? Fine, at least there were still a few barriers of separation (the door and the blanket), not to mention that they could separate if either of them noticed Hunter coming.

But eating Jessica out while in plain view, of everything, with Parker’s ability to detect Hunter compromised?

“There’s no way. We’ll get caught. I can’t do this.”

Jessica flung the covers off, her nude body revealing itself in all its glory. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to finish myself—”

“Fine, OK? Fine.” Parker could feel his heartbeat in his ears as his panic spiked yet again, Jessica’s triumphant grin only making him curse himself at his own powerlessness.

The sly Asian woman retreated back underneath the covers, Parker mentally preparing himself and kneeling at the edge of the bed. “You better be on edge for Hunter, though.”

“Oh, I will. I mean, I have a stake in this as well you know; if Hunter ever finds out, we’ll never be able to do this again, after all.”

Despite the actual words that came out of her mouth, the confident tone Jessica used reassured him enough to get him to start focusing on the task at hand. Under the thick covers of the blanket, he could see Jessica spread her legs a little, shortly after a hand lifting the covers at waist-level. He could just about feel the musky heat of lust emanating from the peephole into the darkness, took a final deep breath, and burrowed his head into it.

He was immediately met with an invisible barrier of heat as his vision lowered to almost nothing. The only thing he could see was a vague outline of Jessica’s slim legs, but Parker felt barely able to keep his eyes open at the wave of warmth his face was submerged inside, as if his head was submerged inside a thick, viscous soup but with none of the wetness. “Shit…” Parker murmured, his hands on the outside gripping the bedsheets more tightly as he pushed through, letting Jessica loop her leg around his head as it neared her womanhood.

Almost all senses disappeared except for his sense of touch which was completely enveloped in Jessica’s body heat radiating from her hot core, and when his face finally made contact with her wet folds, a sweet, sticky wetness on his lips. Jessica shivered, biting back a moan, her legs tightening around Parker’s head, the growing sensation of orgasm reigniting inside her.

“Oh, fuck…” Jessica’s lustful moans and sighs and whimpers went largely unnoticed by Parker, mostly because he couldn’t hear them as the tight grip of Jessica’s legs on his head meant that his ears were being plugged by her velvety thighs. His hands soon joined his head underneath the covers for added stability, his tongue exploring the moist depths of Jessica’s warm cavern, the taste of her nectar flooding his senses. The more he continued, the wetter his face got, and the more anxious he started to feel: why couldn’t Jessica just cum already? Was Hunter going to catch them? Could he even wipe his face off in time if he did?

Parker tried to shove those thoughts away and focus only on Jessica, but it was damn near impossible. The feeling of her smooth thighs around his head, the shuddering of her body as he continued his assault on her nethers, the warmth of her pulsating pussy walls as his tongue glided along its sticky surface, none of it was enough to distract him from the imminent threat of Hunter. And it turned out to be a good thing as, just as Jessica’s orgasm spilled over the tipping point, her hands shot down and pushed his head away.

Parker immediately understood the intention, his heartrate shooting all the way back up, hastily grabbing the inside of the blanket and wiping his face before emerging from underneath the blanket mere seconds before the door opened back up.

“Oh, hey Parker, you’re awake.”

“Hey, sorry for falling asleep earlier—”

“No, I don’t wanna hear it. I’m sorry for making you take care of my wife after having such a busy day.” Parker just shrugged nonchalantly, hoping his acting was convincing enough. “Thanks again for agreeing to this.”

“Yeah, thanks Parker,” Jessica interluded, not a hint of the playful teasing tone Parker knew she desperately wanted to use, “I really owe you one.” Parker could imagine the teasing grin on her face Jessica would be wearing if they were alone, but knew he had no choice but to play along.

“No problem, really. In fact, this was a nice excuse to take some PTO from work. Also,” Parker turned fully around, standing up and looking at Hunter, “sorry for falling asleep on the bed. I heard about what Jessica did for me and I appreciate it, but I just wanted to—”

“No no no, don’t apologize for that. Are you trying to make me sound like the bad guy, demanding an apology for falling asleep after overworking yourself last night? If you need to sleep, go back to your apartment and take a nap, I don’t want to bother you.”

This was it. This had to be the chance Parker was looking for. The one benefit of Hunter’s proximity and constant check-ins was that he could give Parker an excuse to leave Jessica before she was willing.

“Thanks—” Almost as soon as Parker opened his mouth, he heard Jessica shift on the bed behind him. That one sound, a seemingly innocuous action from the wedded woman, triggered a vision of sorts, imagining Jessica threatening to throw off the covers should he leave. Although Jessica didn’t explicitly state it, the fact that he strongly believed Jessica would do so and the fear that she would caused him to change his mind mid-sentence. “—but I think I’m good. I might just need some food in me, but I can always just go to bed early today.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I got this.”

Hunter nodded graciously. “I really owe ya one, Parker. How about lunch, on me? What do you feel like eating?”

“You don’t need to—”

“I insist.” Hearing those words, Parker knew there was no more arguing with him. “It’s the least I can do.”

“Hm … how about Panera Bread? They also sell soup that Jessica can eat, right?”

“Good thinking; the usual for you?”

“Yep.”

Hunter soon after left the room after announcing his imminent departure, and it wasn’t until the pair heard the door of the residence close that Jessica broke out into another smile. “You know, I was half-debating whether or not to let you finish me off anyway and see if I could explain it away.”

“Are you serious?”

Parker’s words, while initially in response to Jessica’s admission, could also be applied to her pushing aside the blanket and bringing herself to a sitting position. Parker diverted his gaze, unwilling to look at her naked body if he could help it. “Finish me off with your dick.”

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Trying to cum with your veiny cock stuffed deep inside my pussy.”

“What-what if Hunter comes back home?”

“Well, we’ll be able to hear it, but why would he? And I don’t need much, come inside and see for yourself how much wetter and tighter I got,” she said with a playful grin on her face, the last part of the sentence spoken in a sing-song teasing manner.

Parker cursed to himself and turned back to face Jessica, seeing her legs splayed at an obtuse angle and her glossy pink slit clearly visible, her upper body leaning back slightly, supported by her arms, her tits raising and falling with the motion of her breath, her nipples noticeably still erect. While her body was definitely to die for, the sexiest thing about everything was the confident expression on her face and the proud way she displayed her body to him.

“I’m limp.”

Jessica pursed her lips, her eyes falling on his bulge—or rather, its noticeably diminished size. “Well, that’s no good, is it?” Jessica sat up straight and leaned forward, her luscious boobs now hanging more freely off her chest. “Come here, take off your pants and let me help you.”

“I just put them on…” Parker muttered, shuffling forward and pulling them down regardless. He left them pooled at his feet just in case and stopped when his now growing erection was within easy touching distance of the salacious woman.

“Mmm, such a good boy, you’re so happy to see me, aren’t you?” Jessica cooed, her delicate fingers wrapping firmly around the circumference of his girthy member. Parker bit his lip, his legs tensing at the instinctive, primal feeling of pleasure and arousal surging through his body.

A smile befell Jessica’s face, giving it a few pumps for good measure before removing her fingers from his dick and to her chest. “Come closer,” she commanded Parker, who begrudgingly obeyed, and brought her voluptuous breasts to his hardening shaft and enveloped it with the soft sags of flesh.

“Shit,” the curse word naturally fell out of Parker’s mouth, hissing in pleasure as the warmth and pressure from the motion caused another surge of arousal.

“You like that? You like feeling my tits smothering your cock like that?” Jessica teased Parker, grinning as she rubbed the length of his cock with her boobs. Up and down, up and down … with each stroke, Parker could feel his embarrassment raising in parallel with his dick, until its tip escaped the warm confines of Jessica’s cleavage, poking out above it. “Mmm, there it is,” she cooed again, her face drawn to the tip of Parker’s cock oozing with precum. Without much of a warning, she stuck her tongue out and lapped up the fluid, giving it a few more kisses before releasing it. “There, now you’re ready to go.” Jessica shifted back into her original leaned-back position, her legs spreading out to reveal the glistening slit similarly oozing with her own precum.

Parker simply looked at it, then Jessica’s eager expression, before sighing. “Fuck,” he muttered again, knowing he didn’t really have a choice. He grabbed Jessica’s legs and captured it in the crook of his elbow, angling her entrance upwards, using one hand to guide his cock while the other made way for it. As he neared it, he could once again feel the heat radiating from the sex organ, but didn’t give himself much time to feel it, instead choosing to plunge into the depths of Jessica’s vagina.

“Hmm, fuck…” Jessica moaned, her back arching and her eyes closing, her legs wrapping around his arms, tensing at the feeling of the thick phallic object penetrating her yet again.

Although he never really wanted to know, Parker soon found out that indeed, Jessica was right; somehow, she had gotten even tighter, so much so that he was having pushing himself inside, even with gravity on his side. “Fuck, it’s so tight,” Parker found himself muttering, gritting his teeth as he struggled past Jessica’s vaginal walls fiercely hugging his cock, slathering it anew with her juices, all the while Jessica unleashing a chorus of erotic moans and sighs and strings of dirty talk.

“Fuck me, god, your cock, it’s stretching me so much, holy fuck you feel so big, god I can’t believe how fucking good this feels, god I’m such a slut for enjoying the cock of my husband’s best friend…”

Parker’s mouth remained shut, only emitting the occasional groans and grunts, finding it necessary to pull out and push back in many times before he finally felt his balls making contact with Jessica’s ass. “Fuck, I don’t know how the hell I’m going to do this when you’re this tight.”

“It doesn’t matter, I’m so fucking close, oh god, I want to cum all over your dick so badly, Parker, please…”

Parker took in another deep breath, recuperating his strength before resuming, extracting his cock halfway before slamming it back inside. “Oh fuck! More!”

Parker obliged, gritting his teeth while pulling his dick out until only about a third remained inside her, bracing his knees against the edge of the mattress before pistoning the rest of his length back inside. Jessica’s sexually-charged moans continued, urging Parker to go faster and deeper with each thrust, culminating in a final few, barely coherent words streaming out of her mouth followed closely by an ecstatic scream, her voice fully unleashed now that Hunter was no longer in the vicinity. The orgasm wracking her body, rending her unable to do anything but shake violently atop Parker’s cock, flooding it with wave after wave of the sticky substance from her core. Her arms eventually gave way, her upper body collapsing onto the bed with her tits bouncing slightly at the motion, her panting barely steadying even after her orgasm subsided.

“Fuck, that was good.”

Parker took that as a sign that he could pull out, reaching down to pull up his pants despite the lust that built up from the fucking. “I can go now, right?”

“Nuh uh,” she sang, sitting back into an upright position, jumping off the bed and grabbing his hand. “You didn’t cum yet, and I’m not about to blue ball you like that.”

Caught by surprise, Parker’s grip of his pants vanished, stumbling out of the pool of clothing left at the feet of the bed. “Wait, my pants—”

“Panera Bread’s far away; if Hunter hasn’t returned by now because he forgot something, he won’t for a good amount of time.” Jessica was surprisingly flippant about something that had the potential to be so incriminating, but it was in part because she was so flippant that reassured Parker. “It was nice of you to recommend soup for me to Hunter, but I think I know another kind of soup that would make me feel better.”

Parker nearly burst out into laughter from that, even as Jessica guided him to sit atop the toilet with its lid down. “You sound like a porn actress.”

“Oh, that’s an idea. Do you want to do a porn shoot?” The smile quickly faded from Parker’s face. “I’ve heard of places that let people do them anonymously, like with a mask over both people’s faces and whatnot. You just set up an appointment and they pay you up front with money, and then you just fuck in front of a camera for a bit. What do you think?”

“And you really think I would agree to that?”

“Hmm…” Jessica hummed, kneeling down, her warm hands landing on his legs and gently rubbing his upper thighs. “…yeah, I think you would. It sounds fun, doesn’t it?”

“Do that with Hunter, not me.”

Jessica pouted, parting his legs slightly and inserting herself into the space between, her hands closing in on his erect cock. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“You’re—… you are so messed up.”

Jessica simply giggled, her gaze shifting away from his eyes to his cock, her palms pressing flush against the length of his cock, her slim digits wrapping around them firmly. Parker swallowed a moan, his arms balled up in fists at his sides, pushing down on the toilet lid as if trying to break it. “I’ll look for one and let you know when I find it.”

“Please don’t.”

“Well, you have no one to blame but yourself for this. You were the one who gave me the idea, after all.”

“I didn’t—fuck,” the swear word tumbled out of Parker’s already opened mouth as Jessica suddenly dove down, pressing her tongue against the base of his member and running it all the way up to the tip, giving it a loving kiss. “Wait, Jessica—I might have to pee.”

“Nice try.”

“No, I’m serious!”

Jessica pondered for a brief moment before shrugging. “Well then, do it inside my mouth. I’m fine being your personal pee and cum dumpster.”

“What the fuck are you—agh, fuck!” Again, the swear flew out of Parker’s open mouth as Jessica dove straight down onto his pulsating erection.

Jessica was relentless, taking half of it inside her mouth in one stroke. Her hands were planted at the base of the reproductive organ, her soft, pink lips caressing the perimeter of his cock, her tongue resting on the underside of the oblong object lodged inside her mouth. She let out a guttural moan, the reverberations being sent onto Parker’s dick, him jumping at the sensation.

Parker’s eyes were trained fiercely on their connection, barely watching her head retreating and Jessica taking another deep breath through the nose before impaling her throat with the phallic object. “Fuck … Jessica, please, just let me pee first at least…”

Hearing the words, Jessica’s head tilted upwards, her smiling eyes meeting his. A playfully teasing expression sat on her face, in stark contrast to the girthy length of his penis sitting atop her tongue, sitting so deep inside her mouth that it nearly touched her uvula. The pure amativeness of seeing the sexy woman at his crotch, her lips now two-thirds of the way down his rod made Parker briefly forget about his body’s urge to release a nonsexual liquid.

Maintaining eye contact the entire time, Jessica’s head came back up his cock, another shudder running across Parker’s body, before quickly plunging down. A faint gagging noise could be heard as Jessica’s throat flexed impressively to compensate for the intrusive object, a tear running down Jessica’s cheek but the smile never leaving her eyes.

“Fuck,” he muttered, the lustful grunt escaping his lips. His hands clenched into a tighter fist, the muscles in his limbs similarly tensing, watching the adulterous woman’s head bob up and down his shaft, slowly making her way down.

The small, echoey room was soon filled with sounds of Jessica’s hums of pleasure, gagging noises as her mouth attempted to take in more and more of his cock, and the occasional grunts and groans from Parker. In his peripheral vision, he could barely see Jessica’s voluptuous tits swaying with her every motion, pushing against the side of the toilet with every downward stroke. She shook her shapely romp playfully, as if a dog wagging its tail in joy, all the while squeezing Parker’s cock in the warm, tight confines of her gradually expanding mouth.

“Mmm, your cock tastes as good as I remembered,” Jessica said after briefly coming up for air. But before Parker could comment, Jessica dove right back down, her right hand sneaking behind her body, impaling her pussy with two fingers while Parker’s cock impaled her mouth.

“Shit,” Parker grimaced, the desire to pee and the desire to cum now equal in strength. As Jessica advanced further and further down his cock, the desire only built, the combined, faint squishing noises of her slim digits thrusting in and out of the same hole that was previously occupied by the object now lodged deep inside her mouth only making it worse. When Jessica finally reached the base of his cock, with no lack of somehow extremely sexy gagging noises, she let his cock sit inside her throat, her lips firmly wrapped around his girth and her tongue resting firmly against his shaft. Her eyes, which had turned downward as she focused on taking his entire length, now turned upwards and broke out into another smile upon meeting Parker’s gaze. She shook her ass playfully again, demonstrating the ease at which she could hold his penis so far down her throat, barely a sign of struggle present on her face.

After a few seconds, Jessica’s head came back up a few inches before summarily dropping back down to the base, slurping noises now joining the chorus of gagging noises filling the shared bathroom of the wedded couple. Parker grunted, his leg muscles tensing even harder, his toes curling in an attempt to hold back the overpowering flood of whatever was inside him, something that only got harder with every bob of her head, Jessica now uncontrollably slobbering all over his member, drool trickling out of the corner of her mouth. With one hand gently caressing his balls and one hand furiously pumping now every finger of her right hand inside her pussy, Jessica’s blowjob increased in intensity to an absolutely wild degree.

“Fuck, Jessica—!” That was all the warning Parker could give before that tension abruptly broke all at once, a stream of bodily fluid pouring straight into the wanton woman’s esophagus. Jessica’s throat flexed impressively once again, somehow not missing a single beat in swallowing every drop of cum, or piss, as it shot into the back of her throat. Parker felt a shudder overtake his body’s motor controls, riding out his orgasm with his cock buried deep inside Jessica’s mouth, sighing and slumping against the toilet back after it subsided.

Jessica’s head came back up Parker’s softening erection, her left hand catching the stray trails of saliva on her cheeks while the right rubbed her juices off on her tits, the pillowy skin giving way to her hand. “Mmm, I’m feeling better already,” she sang happily, looking at a Parker who was avidly avoiding her gaze in embarrassment and regret. “You can pee now if you want.”

“…That’s the thing. I don’t need to do that anymore.”

Seeing Parker’s forlorn expression, Jessica couldn’t help but laugh. “What are you acting so embarrassed about? I told you that I was willing to swallow your pee too.”

“But—why? That’s disgusting!”

“Mmm, well it was a little saltier than usual, but it still tasted great,” she noted, shrugging, “I don’t mind.”

Parker sighed, his shoulder slumping. “Fuck, I’m sorry…”

“Aww, does my little baby feel bad for using mommy as his own personal urinal?” she cooed, scooting back up to him and placing her heavy rack on his lap, directing them to his slowly softening erection. “Don’t worry baby, mommy is always willing to swallow anything that comes out of my baby’s precious cock.”

“Stop talking like that, please.”

“You say that, but I think your friend thinks otherwise,” Jessica said, watching in delight as the softening penis did a full 180 at the feeling of Jessica’s makeshift titjob.

“No, no more,” Parker replied, cursing the stamina he had developed from all the long, arduous sex sessions he had been having with Jessica.

Jessica pouted. “One more.”

“Please, I’m drained…”

The sly woman grinned, standing up and grabbing Parker’s hand, leading him back into the bedroom, singing, “We’ll see about that~”

#jessica jung #smut #snsd #soshi #snsd smut #kpop smut #Soiling Mr. Innocent #blackmail #dirty talk #bed sex #t!tjob #pee kink

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empty-vessel-of-a-person · 4 hours

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Delulu Mode: Jealous Zayne

Note: Not a Full Fic. Just a Delulu Story in my Brain. I wish I can write a full Story but I can't. Believe me I try.

To say you were hurt is an understatement. it was date night and you are very static that for once, Zayne was able to get off work early. But nothing prepared you to the colder than usual demeanor he has and an almost dismissive attitude.

You are very confused, when you pick him up from the hospital, he even kissed you in the forehead. Something the he's done for the first time.

His colleagues has seen you two stand so close to each other and the furthest they seen you two is greeting each other by holding hands. So the forehead kiss is something new to you but you are still equally happy.

So what happened in between the fifteen minute ride to the restaurant is still a mystery to you.

You are in the verge of crying when he refuse to talk much as you two eat.

Steeling your emotions, you keep everything in check because whatever is upsetting Zayne, he clearly do not want to share with you at the moment.

You two plan on walking on the nearby park after dinner. This is one of Zayne's way to getting you both a simple work out after eating your hearts out. But tonight, you feel awkward to do it so you ask Zayne take you home instead, which to no surprise, he didn't argue.

The ride was awkward and almost suffocating that you were not able to fight the silent tears that started to fall from your eyes. You did not move to wipe the tears as the moment may cause Zayne to notice so you just look out the window.

When you finally see your apartment, you thank Zayne for the dinner and ride home and quickly exited the car.

This seem to knock Zayne out from trans and he run after you. When he finally catch up and turn you to him, he was so shocked that your face is so red with tears. He immediately picks you up and take you back to his car.

You didn't fight him. Instead you held his shoulders tightly until he is able to secure you in car.

Driving fast but carefully , you notice that you are going to the direction of his house. When you are finally arrived, he excited the car without a word and unfasten your seatbelt an carry you again like earlier. When you try to protest, he just hold you tightly but gently and take you straight to his room.

He set you sitting at the edge of the bed and and him kneeling in front of you and his head on your knees as he whispers I'm sorry.

You didn't say anything for a while but you intertwined your hands with him while your other hand was gently stroking his hair. You then realize that his shoulders was shaking. he's crying.

That's when you coax him to talk and found out that he was jealous of the way you easily laugh with Greyson. he reason that with Greyson you always look like you are having fun. While you are just giving him smile and small giggle. he wants you to laugh heartily with him too but he is knows he is not jolly and funny like Greyson and for that he was extremely jealous.

He was so insecure that he kissed your forehead in front of his colleagues to ensure that they know you are his. And after that he proceeded to ignore you and for that he is so ashamed on how he acted.

You feel his arms encircle your legs he then murmurs. Please don't leave me.

It breaks your heart that he thinks that you will leave him for any other man so you hold his face in both your hands. When he finally look at you, you tell him that his presence alone make you happier that any laughing moments with her friends. Having fun and laugh with them does not comes close to how you feel when he showers you affection and you only and exclusively just long for him.

When you ask him to kiss you he was hesitant stating that he doesn't deserve to kiss you because how he acted. You acted angry and tell him that he is allowed to do whatever he wants with you. He was still hesitant that is why you hold the back of his neck and bring your lips down to his and he accept you dominating him.

When the kiss ended you whisper in his ears that you wanted more he then reply "Well then. My Love, what exactly do you allow me to do?"

#love and deepspace #zayne #zayne love and deepspace #zayne lads #lnds zayne #zayne l&ds #dr zayne #lads zayne x reader #zayne x y/n #zayne x you #zayne x mc #zayne x reader #zayne x oc

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pedrospatch · 2 days

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wip wednesday

tysm for the tags loves! @alltheirdamn @sawymredfox @milla-frenchy @almostfoxglove @penvisions @cavillscurls @arcanefox207 @strang3lov3 @evolnoomym @mermaidgirl30 <33

i said i wasn't going to participate, but i sorta have something to share? it is a super lengthy jackson! joel one shot i thought of last year that i want to write for the holidays. it is not holiday themed per say, but does take place during fall and winter seasons and if i do write it, it will be shared in december. most of it will remain top secret for now. okay i'll stop babbling and share a snippet.

You shouldn’t be alone, Maria had told you. Not at a time like this. Perhaps she’s right. Perhaps you shouldn’t be alone. Not when the grief is so heavy. Too heavy. But being surrounded by people who felt sorry for you—that’s not what you need, either. You could hardly stand the way the entire town looked at you during the service, the pity in everyone’s eyes as they each came up to you, one by one, to express their condolences with tired clichés accompanied by unwanted hugs and pathetic pats on your shoulder. Poor girl lost her momma, and now her daddy, too. She’s all alone. There’s a loud knock at the door and it startles you out of your thoughts. Wiping at your damp, swollen eyes with the back of your hand, you bite back a sigh and stand up from the couch, hoping it’s not another member of the community showing up with another home-cooked meal for you. You had a refrigerator crammed full of food, most of it which you know will go bad—even when you do eventually get your appetite back, one human being can only eat so much damn green bean casserole. When you pull open the door, you’re already prepared to thank whoever is standing there on your porch with a sympathetic smile on their face, a dish of something or other—green bean casserole, you’re willing to bet—in their hands. Instead, you’re taken by complete surprise when you see the older man you’re all too familiar with standing there, his broad, hulking frame nearly taking up the entire doorway. “Joel?” “Hey, darlin’,” he says softly, his hands tucked in the pockets of his brown jacket. No casserole to offer—thank god. “What are you doing here?” you question, as if isn’t obvious. “Came over to check on you.” Joel clears his throat. “I, uh—I didn’t get the chance to talk to you after the service with all those people goin’ up to you.” He can barely look at you, and you know why. He feels guilty. After all, he’d been the last person to see your father alive. Joel had been with him when he took his last breath—showed up at your front door in the middle of the night, shirt covered in his blood to deliver the news to you. His only child, his young daughter who had nobody left. He shuffles apprehensively from boot to boot. “Y’okay?” “No,” you answer, simply. “Are you?” Joel exhales a shaky breath, responds with a barely audible, “No.” You step aside and gesture for him to come inside. “Well then,” you say, swallowing the thick lump climbing its way up your throat. “How about you come in? I’ll make a pot of coffee and we can be not okay together?”

tagging anyone who wants to participate! and please tag me so i can read about your wips!

#wip wednesday #IF this is written #we are looking at well over 10k #lmao we shall see

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rainforestakiie · 3 days

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Priest Adam x Devil/King of Hell Lucifer part 04

The Imp

hi everyone! i am back with the fourth instalment of @inubaki’s request! i think there might be one last part after this? maybe two! it is all leading up to something~ can't wait for everyone to read it!

‘A Priest observing that one of fathers in his charge seems to be heavily distracted by something no one else can see. Father Adam had come to them young, an unwanted fourth child to a Nobel family hoping to gain the church’s favor. Life is hard for Adam whim continues to wait for his family to return for him, growing into despair until one day he suddenly improves. He claims he’s spoken to an angel. And, to his credit, does give information far beyond what any child should know. But the older Adam gets, the more distracted he becomes. More happy, but conflicted. Till one day he disappears.'

The Imp (Priest Adam x Devil/King of Hell Lucifer) = Part 01. Part 02. Part 03. Part 04.

By the time Adam reached his sixteenth birthday, the nuns of the church began to act... strangely. Their behaviour shifted in subtle but unsettling ways, like shadows moving just out of the corner of his eye. It wasn’t the birthday celebration that unnerved him, there was no fanfare, no candles or songs, but the way they seemed to watch him, their eyes filled with something he couldn't quite decipher.

Sister Sera, normally soft-spoken and kind, now looked at him with a gaze that sent a chill creeping down his spine. She lingered too long in doorways, her once-gentle hands trembling ever so slightly as she clasped her rosary beads. Sister Uriel, the one who always offered a warm smile, now barely looked at him, her face pale and gaunt as if she’d seen something dreadful that she refused to speak of.

Their whispers grew louder, too. Hushed conversations behind thick wooden doors would fall to silence the moment Adam drew near, only to start up again in a frantic murmur once he passed. He began to feel as though he was an intruder in the place, he had called home for as long as he could remember.

At night, it was worse. The air in the church grew thick, almost suffocating. His room, usually a sanctuary of peace, felt heavy with an unseen presence. The crucifix above his bed seemed to cast strange, jagged shadows across the walls, distorting and shifting in ways that made his heart pound. Sometimes, just on the edge of sleep, he swore he heard something—a faint scratching from behind the walls, as if something was trying to get in.

He couldn't understand why turning sixteen had such a weight to it. Why did the nuns look at him with a mix of fear and pity, as though he were marked for something unspeakable? Their prayers became louder, more desperate, the candles in the chapel flickering wildly as if a wind was passing through, but the windows were sealed tight.

It was as though they were waiting. Waiting for something that only they knew was coming. Something tied to him—something that grew closer with every passing day.

The harsh whispers of the other orphans slithered through the corridors like poison-laced smoke, curling around Adam’s ears and tightening in his chest. He kept his head low, his eyes fixed on the worn stone floor as he shuffled past the children who watched him with narrowed eyes. Every whisper felt like a dagger, sharp and malicious, stabbing deeper into his already fragile mind. Adam couldn’t understand why his sixteenth birthday seemed to isolate him even more, as if a silent decision had been made that he no longer belonged—if he ever had.

He had always kept to himself, never one for loud conversations or playful scuffles in the courtyard. But now, it felt different. It felt... deliberate. The church, once a place of quiet refuge, had become suffocating. The orphans, who had once merely ignored him, now seemed to actively avoid him, or worse, blame him. For what, Adam didn’t know.

As he turned a corner into one of the dimly lit hallways, the faint sound of sobbing reached his ears. Adam paused, glancing down the corridor to see a young girl, no older than eight, kneeling beside the large glass tank in the corner. Her small shoulders shook with each quiet sob.

Adam hesitated, his brow furrowing as he slowly approached. His gaze shifted from the girl to the tank—and he froze. The water, usually clear and alive with bright, darting fish, was now still. Too still. Every fish floated lifelessly, their bodies eerily suspended in the water, scales reflecting the dim light in dull patterns. All of them were dead.

A sick feeling churned in Adam's stomach. He wanted to comfort the girl, tell her everything would be alright, even though he wasn’t sure it would. He took a tentative step forward, but before he could reach her, Eveline shoved him hard. He stumbled back, his hands bracing against the cold stone wall to keep from falling.

She didn’t speak—she didn’t need to. The glare she gave him said more than words could. Her dark eyes burned with accusation, with loathing. Adam swallowed, feeling his face grow hot under her gaze. He could feel the eyes of the other girls now, all of them staring at him with the same hostile look. They didn’t say it out loud, but he could hear it in their silence—they blamed him for the fish, for everything.

His throat tightened. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but no words came out. Instead, he turned and hurried away, his steps quick and uneven. The whispers behind him grew louder, harsher.

"Omen," they hissed. "Bad luck."

Adam's breath grew shallow as the words circled around him like vultures, picking at his mind.

Everything goes wrong when Adam’s around.

The words echoed louder, bouncing off the high walls of the church in his head. He hadn’t done anything—he didn’t understand why they hated him so much. His legs weakened, and he stumbled down by the towering grandfather clock at the end of the corridor, his hands trembling as he curled into himself. His vision blurred, and his chest ached as he gasped for air, panic rising like a storm inside him.

The whispers continued. He could hear them—he could feel them.

He’s cursed.

A hand on his shoulder jolted him, and Adam jerked his head up, wide-eyed, heart pounding in his throat. But it wasn’t one of the bullies. It was Steve.

Steve knelt down next to him; his face etched with concern.

"Hey, it’s alright," he murmured, his voice gentle but firm. "Don’t listen to them, Adam. They’re just being cruel."

Adam tried to steady his breathing, but the whispers lingered, faint and insidious in the back of his mind. He flinched as Eveline’s mocking voice floated down the hallway, louder than the rest.

"Cursed," she spat. "Bad luck, that’s what you are."

Steve’s expression hardened. "I swear, if she doesn’t stop, I’ll—"

He started to stand, but Adam grabbed his hand, shaking his head desperately, his wide eyes begging him not to go.

Steve sighed, his anger melting into a soft understanding.

"Okay, okay, I won’t go," he said, giving Adam’s hand a gentle squeeze. "But if I hear her say one more thing, I’m not biting my tongue."

Adam managed a small nod, still sniffling as he tried to calm himself down. The trembling in his hands slowly lessened, and Steve offered him a warm smile, his eyes twinkling as he said, “How about we head back to our room? I’ll tell you one of my terrible jokes on the way.”

Despite everything, Adam couldn’t help but smile. Steve always knew how to make things feel less... heavy.

With Steve’s help, Adam stood, and together they made their way towards their shared room. Steve kept his promise, launching into a stream of ridiculous dad jokes, each one worse than the last, until Adam found himself laughing softly despite the lingering dread that clung to him.

But as they reached the top of the staircase, approaching the landing where their room was, both stopped. A shadow, faint but unmistakable, slithered across the wall and disappeared into their room.

Steve's arm shot out protectively, stopping Adam from stepping forward. His face darkened with suspicion as he glared at the door. "If this is another one of their stupid pranks..."

His voice trailed off into a low growl, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "I swear, if they’ve messed with your stuff again, I’m telling Sister Sera this time."

Adam's stomach knotted as Steve marched toward the door, his voice rising. "Alright, we know you’re in there! Come out now, or—"

Steve’s voice faltered as he reached the doorway. His face twisted in disbelief; eyes wide.

Adam’s heart raced, curiosity mingling with fear. He hesitated, then, with trembling steps, he peeked around Steve, expecting to find their room ransacked, their belongings scattered in the usual cruel mess.

Inside the room, Adam expected chaos. The memory of last month's prank—the younger kids ransacking his things, throwing his belongings around like a cruel game—lingered in his mind. But this time, there was no mess. No scattered books, no overturned chair. The room was, at first glance, eerily neat... mostly clean. But it didn’t take long for Adam and Steve to notice something strange.

Black rose petals. Crispy, brittle, and dry as if scorched by some unseen fire. They were scattered across the floor in a deliberate path, leading from the doorway straight to Adam's bed. Adam’s pulse quickened. The dark petals felt out of place, sinister. His gaze followed the trail, and his heart skipped when he saw it—on his bed, nestled like a gift wrapped in death, was a large, beautiful bouquet of black roses. They were impossibly dark, each petal a velvety black, absorbing the dim light from the window.

Coiled around the base of the bouquet, a stark white snake lay perfectly still, its smooth body draped like a ribbon. Its eyes were half-lidded, tongue flickering lazily in and out. For a moment, Adam stood frozen, his mouth dry. His instincts screamed to back away, to run. The image of the snake contrasted sharply with the stillness of the room, like a silent predator waiting to strike.

But something strange urged him closer.

Steve stood behind him, staring in confusion. “Who the hell leaves a snake as a birthday present?” he muttered. “That’s... weird.”

Adam swallowed hard; his throat tight as he edged toward the bed. The snake remained still, almost docile. With shaky hands, he reached out, fingers trembling as they brushed the snake’s cool, smooth scales. To his surprise, the serpent didn’t react violently. Instead, it slithered lazily across his lap, its body coiling and uncoiling with soft, slow movements. The snake’s hissing was gentle, barely audible, as though it was whispering something only Adam could hear.

Adam blinked, finding himself strangely... calm. He sat down on the edge of the bed, his hand running over the bouquet of black roses. The scent that rose from them was intoxicating—a rich, sweet fragrance that flooded his senses. For a moment, all the tension drained from his body. He sighed, holding the roses close to his chest, as if the flowers offered him some unspoken comfort.

But Adam has no idea. He had no family…

Steve raised an eyebrow, scratching his head. “Yeah, well, it’s... odd. I mean, black roses? A snake?”

His gaze drifted down to the petals on the floor. His eyes narrowed, and he knelt down, running his hand over the path of blackened petals.

“Am I tripping, or do these look like they’re arranged in a pentagram?”

Adam glanced at the floor; his curiosity piqued. But when he looked, the pattern didn’t immediately make sense to him. It was just petals, scattered in strange directions. He shrugged; the weight of the flowers still pressed close to his chest.

Steve stood up, shaking his head. "Maybe it's nothing."

With a huff, Steve turned his attention to his own bed, muttering about pranks and younger kids. He pulled the quilt back, fully expecting to collapse into the familiar comfort of his bedding. But instead, what he found turned his face pale, his mouth twisting into a grimace of disgust.

From beneath the quilt spilled writhing maggots, pale and slimy, squirming over thick patches of moist, black dirt. Worms writhed between the sheets, tangling together in a grotesque, pulsating mass. The stench hit them next—a damp, earthy smell, pungent with rot.

Steve’s horrified gasp echoed through the room, loud and guttural. He staggered back, his voice shaking with fury.

"What the—! Adam, what the hell is this?!" His voice cracked as he cursed, his face twisted with rage and disgust. "I’m gonna kill those brats! This isn’t funny! This is sick!"

Adam’s heart pounded in his chest, cold fear washing over him as he stared at the infested bed. His breath came in short gasps, his fingers clenching tighter around the roses. Steve stormed toward the door, throwing it open with a fury Adam had never seen in him before.

“I swear to God, if I find out who did this, I’m telling Sister Sera right now!” Steve’s voice echoed down the hallway as he disappeared, his footsteps heavy with anger.

Adam sat frozen on the edge of his bed; his wide green eyes glued to the squirming mess that had been Steve’s bedding. His grip on the bouquet tightened, his thoughts racing. He didn’t understand why this was happening. Why were they targeting him again? What had he done?

The room felt suffocating, thick with an unnatural tension. The white snake, still draped lazily across his lap, slithered over his shoulder, it’s cool body pressing against his neck. Adam’s breath hitched, but then he felt something strange—something unsettling.

The snake’s head gently nuzzled his cheek, almost affectionately. It moved slowly, deliberately. And then—was that a laugh?

Adam blinked, his heart skipping a beat. He could’ve sworn the snake had... laughed. A low, soft sound, almost like a faint chuckle. But that couldn’t be right. Snakes don’t laugh. He shook his head, trying to push the thought away, but the eerie sensation lingered in the air, wrapping around him like a thick fog.

The petals on the floor shifted slightly, as if moved by an unseen breeze.

And deep inside him, something shifted, like a slow crack forming in the walls of his carefully contained world. Adam’s green eyes drifted back to the bouquet of black roses cradled in his lap, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he smiled. A soft, almost timid curve of his lips. The black petals, once ominous, now seemed beautiful in his hands—delicate, fragile, like something precious.

It was the first time anyone had given him flowers.

The thought sent warmth spreading through his chest, melting away the icy tendrils of fear that had been gripping him moments before. Adam’s fingers brushed over the velvet-like petals, his touch gentle, reverent. He had never received a gift like this—never been given anything with such a strange, intimate care. His mind wandered, his heartbeat slowing as a familiar name crept into his thoughts.

“Are… are…” he began softly, his voice barely a whisper as he glanced at the small white snake coiled around his neck. It’s cool, smooth body pressed against his skin like a comforting weight. Adam licked his dry lips and, for the first time in what felt like years, he allowed a soft, genuine smile to form.

“Are these a gift from… Luci?”

The name fell from his lips like a secret, hidden away for too long. Luci. The Imp. His Imp. The thought of Luci made Adam's heart swell, the melancholy that had wrapped around him for so long lifting, even if only for a moment. He hadn’t seen the little creature in over a year—not since the last time he’d been utterly alone, buried beneath the crushing weight of the orphanage’s cold, indifferent walls. Luci had always appeared when he was most vulnerable, when the sadness became too much to bear.

And now, with the bouquet of black roses in his arms, Adam couldn't shake the feeling that Luci had returned in some way. Even though the Imp wasn’t here physically, Adam could sense the connection, like an invisible thread pulling him back to those moments where Luci had made everything better.

The snake, with its calm, slithering movements, rubbed its small head against his cheek, as if in answer. The soft, cool pressure felt... affectionate. Reassuring.

Adam’s smile widened, his heart soaring with a childlike joy.

So, the roses were from Luci!

He pulled the bouquet closer to his chest, hugging the flowers tightly. The sweet, intoxicating scent filled his lungs, calming him. The strange weight of the day—the stares, the accusations, the dead fish, the maggots in Steve’s bed—seemed to fade into the background. None of it mattered anymore. Not when Luci was thinking of him. Not when the Imp had remembered him after all this time.

As he cuddled the flowers, his thoughts drifted back to the first time he’d seen Luci. He had been younger then, maybe ten or eleven, and utterly broken by the cruelty of the other children. It had been after a particularly awful prank that left him bruised and bleeding, and that night, in the dark corner of the chapel, Luci had appeared—a small, shadowy figure with mischievous eyes and a grin too wide for its face. Luci had never spoken a word, but Adam had understood. The Imp had made the pain go away, if only for a little while.

And now, Adam was sure Luci had returned, in some subtle, invisible way. The white snake nuzzling him, the black roses with their mysterious scent... they were all signs. Signs that Luci hadn’t forgotten him.

Still clutching the bouquet, Adam stood up slowly, his heart fluttering with excitement. The weight of the snake, now lazily draped across his shoulders, felt like a protective cloak, keeping him safe from the cruelty of the outside world.

Steve was still gone, likely yelling at Sister Sera about the mess in his bed, but Adam didn’t care. All he could think about was Luci, the strange, comforting presence that had once filled his life with a quiet, mischievous magic.

He glanced at the petals on the floor again. Steve had said something about them being arranged in a pentagram, but Adam didn’t see it that way. To him, they were part of Luci’s gift—an offering of beauty and mystery, just like the Imp had always been.

Adam’s fingers absentmindedly stroked the snake’s smooth, white body as he stood by the window, staring out at the darkening sky. His mind drifted, lost in the memory of Luci’s wide grin, the way the Imp had made him feel seen in a world that had otherwise forgotten him.

A soft, gentle hiss escaped the snake’s mouth, and Adam couldn’t help but smile again. Maybe the snake wasn’t Luci, but it was a reminder—a reminder that, even in the darkness, there were small moments of magic meant only for him.

As the last of the sunlight faded, casting long, eerie shadows across the room, Adam stood there, clutching the roses to his chest, feeling an odd sense of peace. Whatever had changed inside him, whatever connection had been rekindled with Luci, it made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

But beneath the calm, something darker lingered—a whisper in the back of his mind, soft and persistent. A feeling that this gift, beautiful as it was, had a purpose. That perhaps Luci wasn’t done with him yet.

“I think I will call you Basil.”

~#~

The days blended into one another as Adam and Steve became inseparable. Adam, mute and withdrawn, found solace in Steve’s presence, his constant companionship a balm to the loneliness that gnawed at him. Steve seemed to understand him without words, offering his quiet jokes and warm touches instead of prying questions. It was a sweet, gentle connection that Adam had never known before.

Adam couldn't go outside in the sun—his pale skin reacted violently to it—so Steve opted to stay inside with him, spending long hours in the dim corridors of the church, in the dusty, forgotten corners where the sunlight barely touched. When Adam sat in the library, his sanctuary, Steve would sit next to him, their knees brushing together and shoulders touching. There was a warmth to Steve’s presence, one that made Adam’s heart race in a way that was both thrilling and terrifying.

Always, Adam had Basil, his little white snake, curled around his wrist or resting on his shoulder. The snake had become his constant companion, a creature that seemed to understand his silence better than anyone. But Basil didn’t take kindly to Steve. Whenever Steve would get too close, the snake would hiss, its tongue flicking out aggressively, eyes narrowing in warning.

Steve, of course, made light of it, smiling that crooked grin that always made Adam's stomach flutter.

“Basil’s our love child, you know,” Steve would say with a wink, reaching out to ruffle Adam’s hair. “He’s just mad ‘cause he doesn’t accept me as Papa yet.”

Basil would hiss in response, and Adam would blush deeply, his face turning scarlet. He’d bury his head in the bouquet of black roses still resting on his nightstand, hiding his burning cheeks. The joke lodged in his mind, making him wonder—if Steve was the “Papa,” did that make him the “mother”? The thought embarrassed him further, his thoughts tangled and confused.

But then, like a dark whisper creeping into his mind, Adam would remember Luci. His Imp, his protector. He thought of the delicate China-doll family he’d once created with Luci, an imaginary world where they belonged together. It felt real, so real, even though the Imp had been gone for a long time now. While Steve was here, by his side day in and day out, Luci’s absence hung over him like a shadow. Adam adored Luci, more than anything, but the Imp was hardly ever around. He wondered, conflicted, if he was betraying Luci somehow by growing so close to Steve.

Adam often found himself watching Steve when he thought the older boy wouldn’t notice—admiring his bright red hair, the way his freckles dotted his sun-kissed skin, like stars in a night sky. Adam wanted to reach out, to trace those freckles with his fingers, to count each one like a secret only he could uncover.

One afternoon, as they sat side by side in the library, Adam caught himself staring again, lost in thought, admiring how beautiful Steve looked in the soft light filtering through the tall windows. His eyes traced the sharp angles of Steve’s face, the way his lips curled up in that ever-present smirk.

Steve, sensing the attention, turned his head and caught Adam’s gaze. His grin widened, teasing.

“Like what you see?” he asked with a wink.

Adam’s face flushed crimson, his heart leaping into his throat. He quickly turned away, embarrassed and flustered, but Steve laughed—soft and joyful, a sound that made Adam’s heart skip a beat.

Steve leaned in closer, his breath warm against Adam’s ear. “I kind of like it when you look, you know,” he whispered, his voice low and playful.

Adam’s eyes widened in surprise, his pulse quickening. He turned back to Steve, his green eyes wide with confusion and hope, but before he could process the moment, a deafening bang shattered the quiet of the library.

Both boys jumped to their feet, startled. Adam’s heart raced, panic rising in his chest. The sound had come from somewhere deep within the library, and it was followed by the creaking groan of wood—heavy, ancient bookshelves shifting unnaturally.

Steve grabbed Adam’s hand, yanking him out of the narrow corridor between the shelves just in time to see the entire row of bookshelves begin to topple over, one by one. Like dominos, they fell, crashing down with a force that made the room shudder. Dust and old, forgotten books filled the air, the ground trembling beneath their feet as each towering shelf slammed into the next.

Adam’s eyes grew wide with terror. His heart pounded against his ribs as he stared at the destruction unfolding in front of him. It was as if the library itself was collapsing in on them, the walls closing in, the air growing heavy with dust and dread.

Just as the last shelf hit the ground with a resounding crash, the door to the library burst open, revealing Sister Sera and Uriel, their long black habits flowing behind them as they rushed in. The two nuns stopped dead in their tracks, eyes wide in shock as they took in the devastation around them.

“What in Heaven’s name happened here?” Sister Sera demanded, her voice sharp with disbelief.

Adam, as always, could not answer. His throat tightened; his tongue heavy in his mouth. He stood frozen, his hand still clasped tightly in Steve’s, his mind racing.

Steve squeezed his hand, stepping in front of Adam protectively, but even he seemed lost for words, his face pale with shock.

As Sister Sera and Uriel surveyed the wreckage, Adam’s eyes drifted toward the far corner of the library. Amidst the swirling dust and shadows, something flickered—just for a moment. A shape, small and dark, standing in the corner where the light didn’t reach. It was barely visible, but Adam’s heart skipped a beat as his gaze locked onto it.

A shadow. A familiar shadow. One that looked eerily like Luci.

Adam blinked, his breath catching in his throat. Was it really him? Could Luci have caused this?

No… Luci wouldn’t hurt him. Would he?

The figure in the corner flickered again, then disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Adam’s heart raced; his mind spiralling. He couldn’t be sure if it had been real or just his imagination playing tricks on him. But something deep inside him stirred—a gnawing unease, a whisper of doubt.

Steve’s grip on his hand tightened. He glanced down at Adam, his brow furrowed with concern. “You, okay?”

Adam nodded, but inside, his thoughts churned. What had caused the shelves to fall? Was it just an accident? Or had something—someone—else been at work? And if it was Luci… what did that mean?

For the first time, Adam felt a chill of fear creeping up his spine. The warmth of Steve’s hand in his own did little to chase it away.

~#~

Adam’s eighteenth birthday marked the start of a new change, though he couldn’t quite understand why. Something simmered beneath the surface, like an itch just out of reach. His heart fluttered in his chest, that familiar warmth creeping up his neck and colouring his cheeks. He sat shyly at the foot of his bed, hands nervously clutching the edge of the mattress, his emerald eyes gleaming as they fell upon the brightly coloured box before him.

The box was adorned with adorable apple-like patterns, almost childlike in their simplicity, framed with soft pastel shades that seemed out of place in the dimly lit room. Adam couldn’t help but sigh sweetly at the sight of it. It was too perfect, too innocent for the atmosphere that hung heavy around him, but something about it tugged at his heart. Maybe it was the care Steve had put into it, or perhaps the fleeting joy it brought into the otherwise oppressive stillness of the church.

“Happy birthday, Addie!”

Steve’s voice broke the silence, cheerful and far too loud for the tiny room. The ridiculous party hat perched on his head, with the same apple patterns decorating it, only added to the absurdity of the moment. He grinned wildly, eyes crinkling in amusement, and with a flourish, he pulled the string of a party-popper above Adam’s head. Streams of brightly coloured ribbons rained down over Adam, catching in his hair and across his shoulders, mixing with the soft, white scales of Basil, who had lazily coiled himself around Adam’s neck.

“Whoop! Whoop!” Steve cheered, fist-pumping the air gleefully.

“Another year older! Another step closer to the end!” His laughter echoed through the small space, carefree and full of life. “Soon, the afterlife of a Sinner will be for you~”

Adam blinked in surprise at Steve’s strange choice of words, but a small smile tugged at his lips, despite himself. He looked up through the shower of ribbons, his heart swelling at Steve’s exuberance, at the way he tried so hard to make this day special. The church was always cold, dark, and looming—its ancient walls held secrets, whispers, and shadows—but Steve managed to bring light into Adam’s world, even if only for a moment.

Basil, however, was less impressed. The white snake shifted, its long body coiling tighter around Adam’s neck, lifting its head to fix Steve with an unblinking, reptilian stare. A soft, warning hiss escaped Basil’s throat, his forked tongue flickering in and out, as if expressing its distaste for the loudness and fuss.

Steve, always unfazed, chuckled and ruffled his fiery red hair, adjusting the ridiculous hat on his head.

“Come on, Basil. You’ve got to accept me eventually. I’m part of the family too, know.” He winked at Adam. “He’s just jealous cause he’s not the centre of attention today.”

The snake hissed again, and Adam’s cheeks flushed deeper as he hid his face, stifling a giggle. He couldn’t help but think how true Steve’s words were, in a way. Basil did seem possessive, always there, watching, observing every interaction Adam had with Steve. But Basil was more than just a pet. The snake had been with Adam through so much—through every cruel word, every cold glance from the other orphans, every inexplicable event that marked Adam’s life with an eerie, unshakable tension.

His focus homed in on Steve. Steve, who had always been there. Steve, who had never missed a birthday. Steve, who was the one constant in his life filled with silence and shadows.

The way Steve was grinning at him now sent a rush of warmth through Adam’s veins, disarming the tension that had wrapped itself around his heart. Adam could feel his cheeks flush, his gaze caught in Steve’s, unable to look away. Something about Steve’s presence always managed to soothe the darkness, make the ever-lurking fear dissipate, even just for a moment.

Steve noticed him staring again, the same teasing grin pulling at the corners of his lips. Without hesitation, he leaned forward, closing the space between them, ignoring the soft warning hiss that slipped from Basil’s mouth. Steve’s fingers brushed against Adam’s cheek, a feather-light touch that made Adam’s breath hitch in his throat.

Adam gasped, his wide eyes locking with Steve’s as his body jolted in surprise. The touch, so gentle, so deliberate, sent a ripple of unfamiliar sensations through him. His heart stuttered, caught between terror and longing.

Steve’s voice dropped to a hushed whisper, his tone intimate and tender.

"I’ve got another birthday present for you, Addie," he murmured, his words barely audible above the soft hiss of the snake. "If you want it."

Adam’s throat went dry, and all he could do was nod, the motion slow and unsure, but the pull towards Steve undeniable. He felt himself leaning closer, drawn in by the warmth of Steve’s presence, the safety he exuded. And then, softly, hesitantly, their lips met.

The kiss was gentle, sweet, a soft press of lips that sent Adam spiralling. His heart raced, but it wasn’t fear that fuelled it this time—it was something deeper, something that made his entire body hum with a nervous, fluttering energy. His hands clenched the edges of the bed, knuckles white, as he melted into the moment, into Steve’s warmth. His face flushed hot, the room around them blurring as every sense seemed to home in on the way Steve’s lips felt against his.

When they finally parted, Adam’s breath caught, and his eyes flickered up to meet Steve’s. His cheeks were burning, his mind spinning in a thousand different directions. Steve was watching him with that same teasing grin, though this time there was something more—something softer in his eyes.

"Was I really that good of a kisser?" Steve teased, his voice a low chuckle, but Adam could see the hint of vulnerability behind it, as if he truly wanted to know.

Adam’s face burned hotter, and he shyly shrugged, unable to find the words to answer. He couldn’t speak, of course—he never could—but even if he had the ability, he wasn’t sure what he’d say. His emotions were tangled, his mind buzzing with thoughts he didn’t quite understand yet. But the warmth in his chest was unmistakable.

Steve laughed, the sound filling the room and cutting through the lingering tension like a ray of sunlight piercing a storm. He reached for the brightly wrapped gift on the bed, the apple-patterned box that had caught Adam’s attention earlier and shook it playfully.

"You still need to open this before we get to the cake," Steve charmingly said.

Adam smiled, a soft, almost bashful smile, and reached out to take the gift. His hands trembled slightly as he began to unwrap it, the delicate paper crinkling under his fingers. He felt a surge of warmth as he unwrapped the gift, but the darkness that had hung over him for so long lingered in the corners of the room, in the shadows that seemed to move when no one was looking.

Basil hissed again, his small body coiling tighter around Adam’s neck, his beady eyes watching Steve warily. The snake had always been protective of Adam, sensing something that Adam himself couldn’t quite understand. And as much as Adam adored Steve, something in the air felt different now thicker, charged, as if the kiss had shifted something deeper within him.

Steve had taken his first kiss.

Adam hoped Steve would take his firsts.

Basil hissed again, his breath seething through clenched teeth, the sound sharp and venomous like the warning of a cornered serpent. The room had shifted, its shadows thickening, pressing in from the edges with a suffocating weight. It was as though the very walls recoiled from what had just unfolded, casting the space into a murky twilight that swallowed the light. Disappointment hung in the air like a cold, damp fog, seeping into every corner of the box-shaped room. Basil’s dark eyes, gleaming with barely concealed contempt, flickered over the two figures, his gaze a smouldering accusation.

A shudder crawled down Steve’s spine, an icy finger trailing across his skin as if something unseen had brushed against him. He instinctively pressed a trembling hand to the back of his neck, his pulse quickening beneath his fingertips. The air in the room was thick, heavy with something unspoken, something dangerous. His eyes darted, scanning the dim space, searching for any sign of what might be lurking just out of sight.

But nothing. Only silence, and the relentless, oppressive darkness creeping closer.

Steve forced a tight smile, his lips twitching as he glanced toward Adam, but the expression didn’t reach his eyes. There was a flicker of unease there, a crack in his composure that betrayed the mounting tension crawling beneath his skin. Adam smiled back, but there was something off about it. Something cold. Something wrong.

In the shadowed corners of the room, the darkness seemed to pulse, alive with a quiet, watching malice.

~#~

Adam woke early, an unsettling sense of wrongness gnawing at him before his eyes had even fully opened. The stillness of the morning felt heavy, thick, like the air before a storm. He sat up slowly, his gaze sweeping across the dim room with wary caution. The wardrobe stood against the far wall, its dark wooden surface looming ominously in the low light, just as it always had, but something about it seemed different. The knots in the wood looked like eyes, watching, waiting. That old fear from his childhood resurfaced, making his throat tighten. For years, he had tied the skipping rope around the handles, a makeshift lock against whatever terror his young mind had believed lived inside. The rope was still there, frayed from countless knots and untangling.

Adam swallowed thickly, his stomach twisting with a sick sense of dread, though he couldn’t pinpoint why. He shifted his gaze toward Steve’s bed, expecting to see his best friend’s familiar figure tangled in the sheets. But the bed was empty, the covers rumpled and tossed aside. A chill settled in Adam’s bones.

Steve was never a morning person... Where could he be?

Adam pushed the quilts off his legs, his muscles tense as if sensing something terrible was on the horizon. His feet touched the cold floor, but before he could stand, his eyes drifted to the pillow beside him, where Basil—his little white snake—always curled up to sleep.

But Basil was gone.

A surge of panic shot through Adam, a sick wave of worry washing over him. His heart pounded in his chest, the rhythm erratic, as if something was beating inside him, trying to get out. He forced himself up, though his legs trembled beneath him, weak and unsteady. The room suddenly felt too quiet, too empty, like a hollow shell of what it had been only the night before. Something was wrong. Something was deeply, horribly wrong.

Adam stepped into the corridor, the cold air biting at his skin. The wooden floor creaked beneath his feet, the sound unnervingly loud in the silence. Each step felt like a whisper of warning, as if the house itself was trying to tell him to turn back. But he couldn’t. He had to find Steve. He had to find Basil.

He was halfway to the staircase when a deafening crash reverberated through the house, followed by a scream that tore through the quiet like a knife. The sound hit Adam like a physical blow, and his ears buzzed with a strange, oppressive white noise. His body moved on instinct, stumbling forward, his breath coming in shallow, panicked gasps. When he reached the top of the stairs, he froze, peering over the rail.

Below him, the corridor was alive with chaos. Nuns rushed toward the staircase, their black habits swirling like storm clouds. Children gathered in frightened clusters, their faces pale with shock. And there, at the bottom of the stairs, lay Steve.

Adam’s heart clenched painfully in his chest. Steve’s body was twisted, one leg bent at an unnatural angle, his face contorted in pain. Sister Sera was crouched beside him, her hands fluttering over his broken form as she called for help. Adam's blood turned to ice as he crouched at the top of the stairs, gripping the wooden beams so tightly his knuckles turned white. His mind reeled, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

Steve had been pushed.

He had to have been.

There was no other explanation. But when Adam looked around, there was no one near him. No one except... himself.

His thoughts spiralled into panic.

No, no, no... I didn’t push him. I couldn’t have.

He loved Steve, more than anything in this world. The very idea of hurting him made Adam’s stomach churn with nausea. But if it wasn’t him, then who?

A soft hiss broke the suffocating silence, sending a jolt of terror through Adam. His head snapped toward the sound, and his blood ran cold. Slithering across the floor, near the base of the stairs, was Basil. The little white snake was moving away from the chaos, toward the shadowed wall. Adam’s breath caught in his throat as he watched, paralyzed, as Basil approached the dark corner.

Then, from the wall, something shifted—something not quite human. A shadow emerged, its form impossibly black, save for the glowing red eyes that burned like embers in the darkness. The shadow was tall, towering, with a grotesque, distorted shape. Long, spindly fingers—each ending in sharp, razor-like claws—extended from the wall, reaching out with slow, deliberate intent.

Basil slithered up the shadow’s outstretched hand and melted into it, disappearing into the darkness as though he’d never existed.

Adam’s entire body went rigid with fear, his pulse pounding so hard he could hear it thundering in his ears. He clung to the wooden beams, his fingers digging into the splintered wood as his breath came in short, panicked bursts. The shadow seemed to breathe, the air around it is growing colder, more suffocating.

The thing’s red eyes locked onto Adam, burning with a hunger that sent a violent tremor through his body.

“…Luci?”

~#~

Adam sat on the edge of his bed, the room cold and suffocating with the weight of silence. His once bright emerald eyes, now dull and lifeless, stared blankly across the room at Steve’s empty bed, his gaze lingering on the rumpled sheets that had remained untouched since the accident. Steve had been gone all day, whisked away to the infirmary, and the gnawing void his absence left behind felt like a stone lodged in Adam’s chest, pressing down with a cruel weight. His heart pounded so heavily, it felt as though the rhythm was hammering against his skull, each beat sending sharp pulses of pain through his temples.

No one had spoken to him. Not since the fall. Not even Sister Sera, who always had a kind word or a calming hand to offer. Now, they all avoided him like a plague. Their whispers had grown louder, more pointed. Their eyes slid away from him whenever he entered a room, and the few that dared to meet his gaze only held fear and suspicion.

They blame me, Adam thought bitterly, his hands twisting anxiously in his lap. He could feel their judgment pressing against him, even when they weren't looking. They thought he was cursed. Maybe they were right.

The shadows lengthened as night fell, the church slowly sinking into a haunting stillness. The distant echo of footsteps faded, leaving Adam alone with nothing but his thoughts—and the horrible guilt gnawing at his insides. He couldn’t sit still any longer. Something was wrong. Steve... Steve needed him.

His legs shook as he rose to his feet, a trembling breath escaping his lips. He stood there for a moment, trying to gather his courage. The air felt heavy, thick with the same oppressive tension that had haunted him since Steve’s accident. His fingers fidgeted nervously, twisting together as he tiptoed toward the door. The corridor stretched out in front of him like a dark and endless tunnel, but Adam knew where he had to go.

Moving as quietly as he could, he slipped out of the room, his bare feet padding softly along the cold, creaking wood. Every step felt like a risk, as if the house itself was watching him, waiting for him to make a mistake. The nuns wouldn’t approve of him being out of bed at this hour, especially not after everything that had happened. But none of that mattered now.

As he neared the dumbwaiter, the familiar small shaft embedded in the wall, he felt a flicker of hesitation. The tiny door slid open with a soft creak, just as it had so many times before. Adam paused, his breath catching in his throat. Was he really doing this? He’d climbed into that dumbwaiter so many times as a child, but it felt different now. Everything felt different. Darker. More dangerous. The whispered rumors of his curse tugged at the corners of his mind.

Emily lost her sight because of you. Steve fell because of you. This is all your fault.

He couldn’t shake the thought, no matter how much he wanted to. The fear clawed at him, twisting in his gut. But he had to know. He had to see.

With a sharp inhale, Adam climbed into the dumbwaiter. The space was tighter now, more claustrophobic, his shoulders brushing the sides as he squeezed himself in. The door slid shut with a loud thud, sealing him inside the darkness. His heart raced as the dumbwaiter suddenly lurched, the cables groaning as it began its rapid descent through the building. Faster and faster it went, the air rushing past him, the sound of rattling metal filling the tiny compartment.

And then, with a final jarring thud, it stopped.

The door creaked open, revealing the dimly lit basement beyond. Adam’s stomach turned as he peered into the room, the smell of damp stone and cold metal filling his nostrils. It was just as he remembered, yet something about it felt... wrong.

The room stretched before him, long tables lined both sides, and unlit bulbs dangled from the ceiling like forgotten eyes. Most of them still worked, casting faint, yellow light, but one bulb had blown, leaving a portion of the room drenched in deep shadow. The darkness seemed to pulse there, thick and unsettling, the broken bulb giving the entire space an eerie, abandoned feel.

Adam’s footsteps were cautious as he stepped out of the dumbwaiter, his heart pounding with every movement. The floor beneath him felt colder here, the chill creeping up through his feet as he approached the turn at the far end of the room. His breaths came shallow, quick, the silence pressing in around him like a living thing.

“Luci?” he called, curling his hands in front of himself. “Luci, I want to talk to you.”

“Luci?”

#hazbin hotel #fanfic #adamsapple #lucifer x adam #au #guitarduck #fanficiton #the imp

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