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flothunderstorms · 2 days ago

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EVERY BREATH YOU TAKE

𝑾𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒏𝒐 𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒑𝒂𝒑𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒍.

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Warning: So much fluff

Word Count: 6.3k

What does love mean to you?

As an author and an avid reader myself, I would answer this question using my favourite quotes especially from classic literature books that shaped me and my views on what love is and what love could be.

William Faulkner said, “You don't love because, you love despite; not for the virtues, but despite the faults."

Another William, but this time Shakespeare tells that, “Doubt thou the stars do are fire; Doubt thou the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love.”

My personal favourite would be “You are part of my existence, part of myself. You have been in every line I have ever read," which Charles Dickens has written in Great Expectations.

And come on, would it be complete without any words from Jane Austen?

“If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.”

I am so predictable, ain’t I? Everybody knows what I’m thinking.

Waking up in a hotel somewhere in Southern Italy, what is life even right now? Especially, wrapped in an embrace from a man whom I can dedicate all the love quotes I have taken from every single book I have read and the different phrases and lines of admiration that I have written are all because of him.

Alex.

We are here for the week as there is a wedding—not ours. It’s one of my close friends’ wedding and I am the bridesmaid.

Now, I am the only person who has not yet been married in our friend group.

Golden rays of the sun seeped through the window not covered by the curtains, landing to illuminate my boyfriend’s back beautifully. Sounds of various birds chirping, softly breaking the still and silent atmosphere of the room. The cold air of the room contrasts the glow of warmth the sunshine provides, hitting the perfect temperature my body is enjoying. Plus, Alex’s body heat provides protection from the cold bite of the air conditioning we have turned on in the middle of the night.

It’s nice to be here in our little world before we go outside and join the chaos of society.

I feel the body next to me shifts, the bed sheets rustling at every move.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Alex's raspy voice entered my ears, smooth like honey. I could hear his dry lips opening together, the sound of his tongue poking out to wet his dry cracked lips follows. I look at him to see him already staring at me, giving me the same smile I have fallen in love with at first sight and continuously falling in love over and over again every single day.

I reciprocate the smile, raising my hand to stroke his cheek gently, still not speaking. My eyes scan his face, memorising every detail and freckle while my finger traces over them. His face starts to heat up, blush creeping on his cheek cutely. He proceeded to pull me closer to him, burying his face on my neck, while his mouth opened for a giggle.

“Stop,” Alex whines, deep voice cracking, still tinged with sleepiness.

Times like this remind me of the soft boy he really is within the rockstar bad boy persona he has created for himself when he is on stage.

After a few laughs and a tickling session he started that I just have to take revenge for, we finally have woken up. Standing up and stretching my limbs reminds me how each morning that passes makes me older and older day by day at the passing time. As I crack my knuckles which I know is not a good move, I let out a hum of satisfaction as I join Alex in the bathroom.

We brushed our teeth together in silence, sharing soft glances and smiles in the mirror. Washing our faces before we hop in the shower, sharing it as apparently “let’s save water and save mother nature” is what Al cheekily reasons out.

Soft touches here and there, a few kisses on the shoulder and chest, and cleaning one another. This has been our usual routine for years now and it never gets old. We always discover new things about each other, always learning new ways of doing our routine, always never failing to surprise the other so that we can fall more deeply and deeper still every single day.

I move in the room with the purpose of getting ready for the wedding. It would take much more time, so I started on my make up and my hair while Alex lays back on the bed with only black boxer briefs covering his body. He is the type of person not to be infected with the need to check his phone and every social media app that he has upon waking up and I envy him for that.

I wish I could ignore all those comments and posts about needing to finally settle down in life.

As I twist the curling iron on my hair, I feel a warmth observing every action I make and my next slowly moving on every part of my body. Looking at the mirror, I see how Alex’s eyes are trained on me, scanning me inch by inch with his deep brown eyes, as if memorising every detail of me as I will suddenly disappear right in front of him.

Every move I make. Every step I make. Every word I say to him. Every second of the clock that ticks loudly in this hotel room.

Alex seems to be watching me like a lovesick obedient puppy waiting on his tail to be given my recognition and attention to—Every breath I take.

“What?” I finally ask after a comfortable silence and he is still looking at me. I do not even need to put on much blush on my cheeks as he makes the redness on my cheek naturally be produced.

“Nothing, love,” he shrugs as a response. “I just love this. I just love you so much.”

My cheeks reddened even more, rolling my eyes playfully.

“Je t’aime, mon amour,” I speak softly, which made him smile widely.

A rabbit hops on the windowsill, making me jump back a bit and remember how I opened these windows to let the fresh air and sunlight enter the room. It made me chuckle, how random a rabbit could be sitting here and watching me finish my make up. From the mirror reflection, I see Alex finally getting up and wearing his suit.

As I finish and apply the setting spray that would hopefully hold my make up all night, I carefully pet the white rabbit who waited for me in getting ready. My mind instantly wandered to an old story that is usually told as a kid—The Rabbit and the Turtle race.

Rabbits are put into a negative light as in this tale, they were so confident the turtle will not outrun them given their natural speed that they took a nap instead of finishing the race first. Then we have the determined turtle who against all odds were not discouraged given how their physique gives them a slow rate speed, still conquered and reached the finish line first, as they believed in themselves and persevered that it does not matter what he is given with, what matter is how he will use what he got in achieving his end goal.

Am I currently a turtle for having it at my own pace how my relationship with Alex would be and not all relationships need to reach the finish line or end in marriage?

Is marriage even the finish line in a relationship?

Some, well most of the people around me would heavily argue that being married is the end goal. That me and Alex should be married by now after being together for almost 10 years now.

Come on, it is 2025. Where is the “do it at your own pace” and “don’t let other’s comments control your life as you are the one in control writing your own story.”

Easier said than done, huh?

“You ready?” Alex speaks, breaking me out from my thoughts.

“One second.”

I wear my usual jewellery, my fingers adoring each ring except on my left ring finger, which has always been bare and empty. I bite my lip to stop my thoughts from getting any further, from letting those comments linger in my mind.

I smooth the creases of my satin olive dress that formed from sitting, before finally standing up on my full height. I walk around the room, towards the love of my life, who seems to be having trouble with his silk tie which has the same colour as my dress.

I reach to help him out, fixing it properly. Even with my heels on, I am still inches shorter than him. He is not a tall man, but it’s cute how it feels like he is a giant compared to my short figure.

Alex dips his head for a kiss, his lips meeting mine in the middle. My hands move to rest on his suit clad chest, humming in satisfaction as his mouth tastes like those strawberry chewing gum he secretly loves to have and the bitter taste of cigarette he had on the balcony before changing into proper clothes. One hand cradles my cheek and turns it to the side to kiss me deeper, his tongue sneakily swiping on my lower lip as his other hand moves down to rest on the curve of my bum.

“We’re late already,” I warned him as I detach our lips in an instant when a gasp was let out of my mouth from him squeezing my arse. I hit his chest lightly which evoked a chuckle from him.

“We’re already late. So what more if we could be late for a few more minutes, darling?”

The wedding place itself is a beauty. It is an outdoor summer wedding, which is held in the most beautiful part of Southern Italy, with the guests facing the lake behind where the beautiful couple will share their vows and seal the deal. White flowers are especially curated for this event, the colours olive, yellow, and brown giving accents to the grand event. It’s cheery and joyful, the colours bringing a pop of colour of happiness to the theme. I like it. I love it. I dig it.

What I do not like about this kind of event is that one specific question that has been asked million of times already.

“How long have you two been together?” An old couple, probably from the family of the groom have asked me an Alex, as we are standing with them, waiting to walk down the aisle as a bridesmaid and him as my partner.

“10 years this year,” Alex softly replies, an edge on his voice because we both know where this conversation is going.

“10 years? A whole bloody decade! And I don’t see any ring on ya girl’s finger!” The old woman exclaims, clutching her chest for effect.

“Yeah, little boy. What have ya been doing?” The old man scolds Alex, tapping his shoulder to emphasise his question.

We awkwardly chuckle, looking at each other at whose gonna let out the same old response of:

“We are not rushing into marriage. We love where we are and we are taking our own time.”

But luckily, the wedding bells have chimed and the organ starts to play the classic Canon in D melody. We all line up in our positions, and one by one, starts to walk down the aisle, as what we have practiced the other night in the rehearsals.

As it is our turn, Alex and I walk down slowly to the beat, my hand resting on his bicep. I could feel everyone’s stare on us, and some of the stares were from people who have previously asked the same question over and over again in every wedding we attend. Especially, my group of friends who I know only have the best intentions for me—but is really not being married to your long term boyfriend necessarily a bad thing?

When I was a child, I knew I had always wanted to be a writer. My first classic book was Moby Dick, which I finished when I was just 8 years old. I eat my lunch at the library, my nose being buried in countless books the librarian has to offer me. I express my thoughts more in the form of writing, and was not much of a speaker myself. One day there was a program in our school, kind of like those “future you” and I told my parents all I ever wanted to be is to see my name as the author on the cover of a published book.

And I am lucky my parents support me for it. However, our extended family? Society? Ehh, a mixed response.

Growing up, in every yearly reunion, I would hear the questions from the elders of:

When are you going to graduate grade school?

When are you going to graduate high school?

When will you be at college?

When will you have a boyfriend?

You have finally graduated! When will you have a job?

You have a job! When are you going to have your own place?

Looks like you are settled, when are you going to have someone?

Now that you have a partner, when are you two getting married?

And that is where they have stopped with their ever evolving questions.

When is Alex and I going to get married.

Honestly, I am not annoyed nor irritated by the question, just tired. Exhausted from explaining to people that we are truly happy where we are right now that all we need is each other—we don’t need no piece of paper from the city hall and a ring on our left finger.

What hurts more is that people really cannot seem to believe us. Why? Do we really need to conform to society's expectations and get married just to show off that our relationship is real? Do we need to sign that marriage certificate upon reaching a decade in our relationship?

So what is next after marriage? The evolving questions never stop. The next would be:

When are you two going to have a kid?

When is your kid celebrating their first birthday?

How about a sister or a brother for them?

Did they graduate from nursery?

A never ending loop of questions that those questions will then be asked to our hypothetical children and the cycle will be passed down on them.

It is easy to say life is not a race but why cannot we apply it to ourselves? Why cannot we stop the what was supposed to be jokingly questions but hold some truth and curiosity as to why some people have not really yet been married?

Every move and step we make as a couple, it seems like everybody is watching us. We try to make our relationship as private as possible, but not a secret.

We are happy. We truly are.

Right?

At the reception, Alex and I have continued the same routine of smiling at every old couple and evading the same ‘when will you two be getting married’ question. Again, at this point, it is not annoying or irritating anymore. We just have accepted the societal perception when it comes to long term relationships that at the end of the day, all roads lead to church.

And maybe it does, but do we need to put a time on when we should tie the knot?

Exhaustion is soon setting in on my system, but we need to go to my group of friends and congratulate the newly-wed couple. As we head towards where we need to go, one comment specifically made me stop in my tracks:

“No rush, but what’s your endpoint? What are you trying to achieve in waiting? Being stagnant means no progress at all.”

I grimaced visibly, the wind being knocked on my chest and some sense being slapped on my face. I feel Alex tensed beside me, his grip on my hand tightening.

Thankfully, we did not get to answer as someone was pushing us to keep moving, my legs quickly walking away on its own.

Silence settled between me and my boyfriend, while the chaos of the reception was our background noise. As we navigate our way to the private room, my mind wanders on its own.

What are we truly achieving in waiting? What are we waiting for? All of this is worth it, right? What matters is that I’m with Alex… that is all that matters right… that I’m with the person I’m in love with…

I know Alex is the guy I want to spend the rest of my life with, but I could not help but shake the feeling the comment brought to me—are we making progress in our relationship as an individual or as our own person?

Is everything we have done together towards building a future together?

We have finally reached our private circle. We have not spoken to each other yet. We separated from each other as we greeted everyone, kissing cheeks with people, and greeting the bride and the groom of this wedding.

There was a photographer who instructed us in groups to take a couple of photos, and now it was only the girls. The boys have been kicked out and everyone is just having an intimate conversation as a collective. We have talked about everything we have already talked about, yet it still hits as if it is new gossip. Reminiscing on our high school days, laughing at our college memories. Crying over silly little fights we had, and sobbing about how we have grown up so much that we are all witnessing one another start a family and how we will be making sure our children will be the best of friends and connected like we are.

Except for me.

Nobody said a thing, gladly. My friends usually tease me about it, but thankfully, not today.

After some time, we took an individual photo with the bride.

The bride, she is the sweetest amongst us. So kind and all. It was always us back in college who would stick together and babysit our three other friends as they got drunk and shitfaced at every frat party they have dragged us into. She is the mother of the group, and I have no doubt she will be the best mother to her 5 month old child on her belly right now.

“I know you will be the best Godmother to him,” she informs me as we wait for the photographer to come in.

I gasp out loud, looking at her in shock. “It’s a boy?” I whisper, a smile slowly curving on my lips.

“Yes, but don’t tell the other you’re the first one I’ve told the gender of our baby,” she cheekily says, making me laugh while nodding.

“I am so so happy for you, my love. So so happy,” I say in awe, still speechless and not being able to compose a much more eloquent speech for my best friend.

She reaches out to take a hold of my hand, giving me that ‘motherly look’ with a joyful smile on her face.

“I wish you to find happiness wherever you are right now because that’s what all that matters.”

I should be the one giving words to the bride and her words hit hard, in a good way, in the best way, because she is right. I am happy and that’s what all that matters. I find happiness in being where me and Alex are right now, why am I even doubting myself?

I went back out to where I saw Alex waiting for me patiently, rocking his heels back and forth and humming to myself. My heart swells at the sight of him, the rush of love surging in my body. He notices me and his eyes instantly light up, reaching to rest his arm on my waist in an attempt of a half-hug, kissing my temple dearly.

“Dinner, baby?” He asks, making me nod and rest my hand on his chest as we walk towards our designated table.

As we took our seats, I saw how the people in the table became gravitated towards Alex. He has this certain charisma that naturally comes out of him that even if he is not speaking, it makes people around him want to talk to him. He is kind, gentle, and polite. He is just—my man.

I realise this moment is precious and that we need no piece of paper from the city hall to prove our love to one another nor to prove our love to the world because everything I need is the person in front of me, and I know he feels the same.

There is so much more to learn every day, constantly, and I think that is what keeps us alive. What keeps us wanting more and more. How safe all of this is. How we are already secured with what we are and where we are. How all that is in front of me is our future—It is me and him. It is us. Adjoined together. Intertwined with one another.

And this wedding is beautiful. Truly. A wedding is a celebration of love indeed—but that is just one way of celebrating true love of two people. There is so much more to a wedding ceremony, because it does not end just there. Marriage is not just about gathering the people you love and holding a program, it is much more than that.

The love. The fights. The trials. The laughter. The challenges.

What if Alex and I are already on that part, and have skipped all the ceremony and all? Would that make what we have right now as fake as we have not conformed to the societal standards of being married and signing that piece of paper from the city hall and professing our love to one another in front of our friends and family?

As Ernest Hemingway once have written:

"We would be together and have our books and at night be warm in bed together with the windows open and the stars bright."

That is Alex and I. Me and Alex. That is all I need: Him. That is all he needs as he says: Me. That is all that matters: Him and I.

Just the two of us.

It is more than enough, isn’t it?

As the dinner went on, the people moved to the dance floor. The bride and the groom performed their first dance as a married couple, and shortly afterwards, a couple of lovebirds followed.

“May I have this dance?” Alex says with a boyish grin on his face, a hand extended in front of me as he stood in his full height.

“By now you would have known I have two feet, Al,” I jokingly remind him, taking his warm hand in mine.

He pulls me by his side as we walk towards other couples who do not have a care in this world and are just having fun.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, baby.”

A familiar tune by Joni Mitchell suddenly begins to play. My heart beats out of my chest, bringing Al closer to me. I look up at him as he starts to sway us from side by side, my mouth begins to open and sing the words softly directly at him.

“Alex, you are my singer in the park, my walker in the rain, and my dancer in the dark. You keep away my blues.”

We don't need no piece of paper

From the city hall

Keeping us tied and true

My old man

His mouth opened in the slightest, breathing out a surprised exhale that reached my cheeks. His eyes start to glisten with happiness, as we continue to dance the night away with me singing a song to him.

“Alex, you are my sunshine in the morning. You’re my fireworks at the end of the day. You’re the warmest chord I ever heard.”

And between the two of us, he is the singer. He is the one who usually serenades me, but there is something about the twinkle of the lights in this room or maybe it is the champagne giving me the courage to let me be the one to do all the singing for the night.

Play that warm chord, play and stay baby

We don't need no piece of paper

From the city hall

Keeping us tied and true

My old man

Keeping away my blues

“And when baby you are gone, me and them lonesome blues collide. The bed's too big and the frying pan's too wide.”

A giggle breaks me out from my singing as he attempts to dip me, but our eyes never break contact with one another.

Then he comes home

And he takes me in his loving arms

And he tells me all his troubles

And he tells me all my charms

We don't need no piece of paper

From the city hall

Keeping us tied and true

No, my old man

Keeping away my blues

And the night just ended—it’s time to go home.

The car ride back to our hotel is silent, but comfortable. With my left hand intertwined with Al, my right hand starts to aimlessly scroll at my camera roll, looking at the screen and all the photos me and Alex had goofily taken together earlier this evening.

“Do you mind we’re not married yet?”

The atmosphere inside the car has dropped to 0 degrees, the chill starting to bite at my flesh. As if the universe has been playing games, my phone has shut down from having an empty battery.

I look at my side to see him already looking back at me expectantly, an expression brewing on his face which I cannot decipher. My other hand reaches out to hold our already intertwined hands that is resting on his knee, looking back at him with all seriousness on my face that I could muster.

“Alex, I don’t mind it at all. You and I are all I need. Nothing more, nothing else,” I answer in all truthfulness.

His adams apple bob a few times, swallowing the lump as he gathers courage to start the conversation we had not dared yet to cross.

“How about kids?’ He asks timidly, biting the insides of his cheek.

I stay silent, not knowing what his question leads to and how I should answer it. I try to read his face, but his features are giving me no clue at all about what is going on inside his little pretty head.

“We are not getting older, baby,” Alex adds, clutching my hand back tightly. “Have you thought about having one?”

“All I care about is getting older with you, Al. I told you before, I am open with kids with you and only you. If you want, let’s have and plan it. If not, then we don’t.”

It seems like Alex was not satisfied with my answer—it feels like he wants me to contradict him, to fight with him.

But I am not giving that to him. I am not fighting with him, because all I know what he needs is just assurance.

“Alex, are you bothered by their comments? Honestly, we’ve talked about this lots of times and I swear, I don’t care about them,” I say carefully, not wanting to escalate the conversation into the direction I honestly do not want it to steer unto.

“I just hope you don’t regret the progress of our relationship,” he says softly, raising a hand to caress my cheeks.

That hurts.

His words were not the one who had pained me, but his perception being tainted by the comments of others. How those unnecessary remarks of society have clouded his thought, in turn, making it for our love to come through slightly shakily in this relationship. How it hurts me to see Alex being worried about me because he thinks I regret being with him and where we are right now—but I could never regret this relationship I shared and the home I have found with him.

Because of all of my milestones, I have shared it with him. All of his important moments were also shared with me. We have shared a lot of our firsts with one another.

My graduation. His tour. My first book I have ever released. His albums.

We have done everything and shared everything together since we have been in a relationship. Why does a single piece of ceremony be needed for us to prove how deep our love is to one another for the world to know?

Isn’t all of what we have let the world see enough to know that what we are to each other are genuine and will last forever?

“Al, darling, we don’t need no piece of paper from the city hall. It's us. I love us. I love you,” I affirm him, craning my head to kiss the corner of his mouth.

“Besides, we are already doing what married couples do,” I jokingly add to which he gives me a forced smile and I know, I have not erased the worry looming on his mind.

He was silent all drive back to our temporary home which I just held his hand and continuously rubbed it assuringly.

We have finally arrived at the hotel where we are staying. The man beside me is still silent as we head to our room together. I stretched my arms and bent down to remove my heels as soon as the hotel key card unlocked the room.

“I’ll be in the bedroom to get a charger then will go to the kitchen ‘cause I’m thirsty, Al! Bring out the champagne, let’s continue the night here,” I say out loud, hoping my invitation for the champagne will change the mood set from the car in the air.

I retrieve my charger and plug my phone in, the flashing battery sign mocking me as I let my phone be drained from all its charge. I put down my bag in the night stand before pulling all the pins out of my hair from the bun I put it in, a sigh of relief being released on my mouth as my scalp can finally breathe in properly. I shake my head to let the curls fall on my back, raking a hand through my hair to give it a sexy look, hopefully. I look at the mirror to inspect my face, wiping down the smudges to make myself more put together, as I will try to lure my boyfriend into fucking me senseless until he forgets all the worries he has on his brain.

Crazy? I know.

I know sex will not solve all our unfinished conversations, but it shall be enough for the night.

I did not change into a more comfortable clothes as there is a lace surprise underneath this olive gown I am wearing. I put on a confident smile as I stride out of our bedroom, towards the kitchen, and hoping to see a shocked expression on Al’s face.

I spot Alex in there, leaning at the kitchen counter, with a nervous look at his face. His suit has been discarded, still in his white long sleeve collared shirt and his olive silk tie hanging loosely on his neck.

“Everything okay, Al?”

And boy, how the table has been reversed. It was me who had a shock starting to etch on my face.

What I was not expecting was a red velvet box.

An audible gasp echoes the small kitchen we are both standing in. I gaze at Alex, still silent because he has given me a lot of jewelry as gifts in the past and this might not be a big thing and I am getting ahead of what is inside of the red velvet box that is commonly used for proposal rings.

But this time, it feels different.

“Marry me,” Alex proposes, shattering the silence between us.

My mouth is still open wide like a fish being out of the water, not processing the scene unfolding before my eyes.

He steps forward, bringing the box in front of us. He opens the box and my eyes start to tear up as I have seen the most gorgeous Emerald ring I have ever laid my eyes on.

The ring I have always dreamt of having as the gemstone Emerald is my mother’s birthstone and what I wished when I was a kid was to have a ring from my prince charming that I will marry, would be a ring that would have my mother’s stone.

I mentioned this to Alex on the first date when we saw a proposal in the restaurant we were in. I answered without hesitation when he jokingly asked what ring he should give me if he will propose to me in the future. The concept of proposal has never been our topic ever since then.

Once. I have told about him and my love for Emerald once—and he remembered after all these years.

Tears start to flow freely on my face and he knows these are all happy tears.

“Al, I hope you’re not doing this because people around us keep nudging us on this conversation,” I remind him, sniffing as I pull myself together.

Alex decreased our distance, only inches away from one another now. His brown eyes are as clear as honey, as warm as the sun has been in Italy.

“I’ve had this for years, baby. I don’t even bloody know what I am waiting for,” he let out a laugh in disbelief, tears are also starting to form in his eyes.

Our time. Not their time. What we have been waiting for is our own right time—which only we can tell.

“Do you not want to get married?” Alex immediately asks in concern, worry starting to cloud his face.

I shake my head fast as a response, my turn to let out a chuckle through the tears.

“I want you, Alex. Truthfully. Married or not. In every universe. In every life we will have,” I say, choking out some words from the surge of emotions flowing through my body right now.

“Okay then marry me. Let’s get that piece of paper from the city hall,” Alex nods enthusiastically, face palming himself in turn.

“Okay, baby, sorry let me do my part,” he says in apology and we both chuckle.

He never broke our connected gaze as he kneels down on one knee on the kitchen floor. He rested his elbow on his knee, offering me the beautiful ring he had chosen just for me.

“Please do the honour and spend the rest of your life with me, baby. Marry me, please?”

“Yes, yes, Al,” I wipe away the tears on my cheek as I continuously nod and sob at him at the same time.

“A million times yes, Turner.”

Alex laughs in relief, slipping the ring on my only bare finger on my hands—the left ring finger—before standing in his full height to pull me in for a sweet kiss to seal the deal.

Like the tale of the rabbit and the turtle:

Slow and steady wins the race, eh?

So now, what does love mean to me?

For me, love is more than what words can be used to describe or explain it. It can be seen. It can be felt. It can be heard. It can be smelt. It can even be and go beyond our human senses, because love—one cannot put it into one sentence what it is and what it can be.

Words are a weapon and if not used wisely, it can be destructive. That is why we choose all the comments are remarks we let out because I believe in thinking before speaking:

Is it necessary for me to say what I am about to say?

One can be speechless and that does not mean they do not have love in them. One can be silent and that does not convey that they have no love inside of them. One can use another medium and not through words and that does not mean their love is less than those people who used words in expressing such emotion.

Because love, it is much more than what words can convey and what ideas can be comprehended—but one thing I am completely sure of is that I will use my words to show how much love I have in me and how I can give it to others.

Especially to Alex.

And I know with Alex and his songwriting, there are times where words do not make sense nor it is enough. He once quoted to me:

“If my words don’t come together, listen to the melody ‘cause my love’s in there hiding.”

And to which I use my own strength now in answering the question:

‘What does love mean to you?’

What does it mean to me?

Alex.

Alex would be the first thing that would cross my mind and if someone ask me why or how I could say I love this man who is currently laughing on the kitchen floor with me as we drink champagne straight out of the bottle…

I know from the start that I have fallen in love with Alex because I started to think of a line from my favourite book called ‘Wuthering Heights’ every time I look at him. Every time he is away. Every time we stare at each other. Every time he moves across the room. Every time he sings and plays his guitar on stage. Every time he breathes in and out as he lays his head peacefully on my chest.

That…

“Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”

I know this is boring, forgive me… I like slow and boring and some Alex fluff! And I can’t stop thinking about Alex whenever I listen to the song which is the same title of this piece.

I am working on something dirty I swear it’s from a request I’ll have smut soon and it would be interesting I promise I’m fighting my awkwardness in smut writing it’s in my head but somehow I can’t put it into words.

If you have something to say or ask or request— just reach out, please! 🤎

#The Car Alex Turner #alex turner #alex turner x reader #alex turner x you #alex turner smut #alex turner imagine #alex turner fic #alex turner fanfic #alex turner x fem!reader #alex turner x y/n #alex turner x oc #Fluff #Every Breath You Take #flothunderstorms #oneshots

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eclipsethemagic · 2 days ago

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Why does it hurt so much to lose you? |KTH|

Synopsis: You broke up with him months ago, so why can't he get you out of his head?

Paring: Idol!Taehyung x!femalereader

Genre: angst

Song of the day: Something in the Orange by Zack Bryan

w.c: 1,018

[s.masterlist]

When you asked Taehyung for a break, he gave it to you. It was about time, with him being gone for so long in the military. So he accepted it. But when you asked him, that maybe you two should break up. His whole world stopped.

"What do you mean break up?" Is the first thing that came out of his mouth. Your eyes looking up at him, your hands playing with the rings on your tiny fingers. A sigh leaves your lips, "It's time." It was the only words you say before walking to the front door, and reaching for the doorknob. You stand there for a moment, and tae wonders if he was supposed to fight back that day. Was he supposed to tell you no? Was he supposed to fall on his knees and beg for you to not go?

Looking back on that day he can't quite put his finger on when he started regretting not saying something. It's been months since then. Since he's seen your face, since he's heard your voice. But every time he goes on instagram he sees pictures of you. You have moved on. It clearly shown from the pictures you posted with another man. But that should of broke him right?

No.

What broke him was when he found out you were having a baby with that man. He didn't find it on instagram though. No. He saw you, walking in the park with one of your friends. The summer air thick, and for a split second he didn't know it was you.

But that blue sundress is what caught his eye. It was the one he bought you, the one you seen in a shop while he was out of town in Japan. But what really made him stop in his tracks was the bump. His heart nearly stopped in chest, he felt like you were attacking him. A dream of his, to have you carrying his babies. His. And for you to go and have a baby with another man that wasn't him. He nearly almost screamed.

"So, she's pregnant?" Jungkook, his bandmate asked when Taehyung takes another swing of his beer that was in his hand. Tae gives him a nod, the most saddest one he has ever done in his life. Jungkook gives him a small smile and reaches over to pat his shoulder softly. "It's okay." The young mumbles to him. Tae wants to believe him, he does. But his heart feels like it's breaking into two.

You moved on, so why can't he?

After that Taehyung deleted every picture of you in his phone, every post about you gone. So when he went over to your house to get his hoodies he didn't let out a sound. "Here you go." You say to him handing him the box full of his stuff. He nods grabbing the box from your hands. "I see..I see that you moved on." It was the only words he has spoken to you when he showed up that evening. You laugh softly and nod, your hand touching the top of your belly bump. "Yeah. I have." You nod, a soft, almost apologetic smile on your lips.

Taehyung swallows hard. The weight of your words hits him like a punch to the gut, but he doesn't flinch. He can't. Not in front of you.

There's a silence. Thick. Unbearable. It stretches between the two of you like a chasm neither of you knows how to cross anymore. The box in his arms suddenly feels heavier than it should, like it's filled with more than just sweatshirts and memories—it's filled with everything you two used to be.

"Is he good to you?" Taehyung asks quietly, voice low, as if the question itself is too sacred to be said aloud.

Your eyes soften. "Yeah he is. He's gentle. He's patient. He's everything I need right now." You say it with no malice, no intention to hurt. But the words slice through him anyway.

Taehyung nods again, jaw clenched. He shifts the box in his arms and glances past you for a moment, to the inside of the apartment he once called home. The same hallway where he kissed you when he got back from tour. The same kitchen where he used to dance with you barefoot and half-asleep. It's different now. Warmer somehow, softer. Like it finally belonged to someone else.

"You look happy," he forces out.

"I am," you say. "Are you?"

The question feels like a trap. Because what does he say? That he hasn't had a good night's sleep since you walked out the door? That no matter how many times he tells himself to move on, it's your name that still comes to him in his dreams? That seeing you with someone else's child inside you makes him feel like he's grieving a life he never got to live?

But instead, he just says, "I will be."

You look at him then, for the first time really look at him. And for a moment, there's that familiar flicker of something old. Something buried. But it's gone just as quickly as it came, replaced by something final. Something peaceful.

You step back, hand still resting protectively on your bump. "Take care of yourself, Tae."

He nods, stepping off the porch. The box still in his arms, your scent lingering faintly from the fabric inside. He doesn't look back. He knows if he does, he might fall apart completely.

But as he gets into his car, he lets out a long, broken breath.

Because this—this is what goodbye really feels like.

And this time, there's no coming back. So after months he cries. Sobs uncontrollably, like he's been holding it in for so long. And after a while, his heart that was once broken is slowly coming back together.

—

an: hiii welcome to the first chapter of the summer series! I hope you enjoyed it. If you want to be added to the taglist please let me know.

#kpop #bts #bts fanfction #oneshots #taehyung x reader #taehyung angst

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dating-eveeything · 1 day ago

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Masterlist

Introduction, Rules & Boundaries

Ready...? Start Date!!!

Dorian

Can't Go Through with It

Mac

Romantic headcanons

Hector

First date, kinda nervous

Barry

Pamper me Pretty

Parker

Cuddle game

#date everything x reader #date everything #de! x reader #de #de!#date everything!#x reader #queer writer #oneshots #fic masterlist #masterlist #headcanons #romantic and platonic works

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neoheros · 20 days ago

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sakusa knows he’s a bad date.

he’s quiet, timid, doesn’t speak much, and asks all the wrong questions at the wrong time.

he’s not very good at eye contact and a lot of the things he wants to say he feels he can’t say at all either.

(partially due to the feeling that everything he says when he talks to you ends up embarrassing him, and partially due to the fact that talking to you for long periods of time make him tongue tied).

(not that he’d ever admit that).

despite all that though, he does know the basics when it comes to going on dates:

he buys you flowers (and forgets it by his doorway), he opens the car door for you (and apologizes when it almost hits you as he opens it), and he makes dinner reservations at the restaurant you mentioned to him in passing three days ago (he did a good job with this one).

so yes, him being a bad date is not unbeknownst to him. quite the opposite in fact, it’s not only something he knows about himself, but it’s also something that he thinks about all the time.

or at least, all the time ever since he’s met you.

that’s how the two of you end up here — the evening of your first (and probably last) date, sitting on a porch step of an empty building, a bloodied handkerchief filled with crushed up snow pressed against sakusa’s left cheek, and a few missing buttons from your favorite winter coat.

sakusa always knew he was a bad date, but he never thought he would be this bad.

the plan had been simple: get you flowers, open the door for you, drive you to the restaurant you liked. sakusa had this game-plan of his memorized ever since you said yes to him four — now five — days ago.

he wrote it on a piece of paper, step by step, and kept it in his wallet sleeve in case he forgets, he repeated it to himself three times in the mirror this afternoon before he left the house to pick you up, and he said it to himself one last time in the car before texting you that he’d arrived.

he memorized it.

and still, he messed it up.

the streets are empty and the evening is quiet.

“sorry … for this.”

his words feel like they’ve been the first to be spoken all night.

on the snowy concrete just below your feet, there’s a few drops of blood making its presence known loudly against the whiteness of the snow, the drops scatter sporadically, and near it, there’s a button or two from your coat.

you sit next to sakusa on the cold steps, it’s a quiet night, and it’s not snowing anymore, but the soft bed of the cold flurry it left behind made for a beautiful evening.

you let your head fall slightly on his shoulder, “for what?”

you can feel him stiffen immediately under your touch, and he coughs, shy, and looks to the side.

it makes you smile a little bit — his efforts of hiding his expressions — it’s not like you can see him anyway with that big makeshift ice-pack covering his face.

“sorry for the bad date.” he clears his throat, more clearly now, a little louder too, but his tone almost sounds disappointed. “… and sorry for ruining your coat.”

you lift your head up from his shoulder, frowning, and you turn to face him, “it’s not a bad date.”

he doesn’t say anything to that. instead, he keeps his head turned slightly away from you, but his shoulders fall a bit when you move away from him.

“if anything, i should be the one apologizing.” you mutter lowly, “i’m the reason you got hurt.”

sakusa huffs slightly. a second pausing in the air as he refuses to return the look you give him, and finally, he puts down the “ice pack” from his cheek, and looks at you.

his cheek is scratched lightly, nothing too deep, just a red mark that’ll probably resolve itself in a few days, but his lower lip though — the culprit of the blood stained snow — is undeniably busted, still bleeding slightly, and making him wince at the sudden loss of pressure.

“don’t say stupid things.” he tells you, and if it makes him sound cold, he swears he’s not trying to be.

he just doesn’t know what else there is to say.

the truth is — it is a bad date.

he forgot your flowers, almost hit you with the car door, and now, the two of you are missing your dinner reservation because he got himself injured twenty minutes into the night.

it’s not fair, he thinks. half the things he wants to say to you, he can’t. half the things he wants to do, he messes up.

you make him fumble on his words, tongue tied, speechless, literally. you make him write things down on notes so he won’t forget them or practice on bathroom mirrors or worry in his car outside your doorstep.

he is the most capable man in his team, he is the sharpest, the most composed, his teammates and coach all count and look up to him.

but for some reason, one night with you, and it all washes away.

he doesn’t know what to say to you, he forgets things, and he falls face first flat on the hard concrete ground twenty minutes into your first date.

don’t say stupid things.

“you really won’t let me take you to the hospital?” you put your hand on his knee, turning even more to your side so you can face him better.

you have half a mind to put your other hand on his injured cheek but you don’t want to hurt him more than how he already does.

“it’s not as bad as it looks.” and as he says that, he winces, the gust of wind suddenly hitting his busted lip a testament to his bad luck tonight.

sakusa wants to kick himself, if there ever would be an appropriate time to act cooler than how he actually was, it would definitely not be now.

you don’t look so convinced, but sakusa wouldn’t know, he’s still only limiting himself to looking at you briefly before shifting his glance to something behind you or beside you or above you.

“hm. and it doesn’t hurt?” you cross your arms.

he shakes his head, “no. it doesn’t.” (it does.)

you raise a brow, “and you wouldn’t happen to be lying to me right now so i don’t take you to the emergency room?”

he shakes his head again, “i’m not.” (he is.)

you give him a look.

listen — sakusa already knows that he’s a bad date, but come on! he has been planning on asking you to dinner with him since the first week he’s known you, he’s been worrying about this evening since the second you agreed to it, and he’s been kicking himself in the head ever since the night began.

he’d rather bleed out on this disgustingly dirty porch step than admit that he’s a date so bad he can turn an evening meant for dinner into a night at the emergency room.

he doesn’t want you to think that he can be so bad like that. (is it too soon to ask you out for dinner again?)

you still look frustrated at his answers. but at least, he’s looking at you now.

you let out a big sigh, shoulders falling, and suddenly, you clap your hands together loudly as you straighten up.

“then i have an idea.” you say, and sakusa furrows his brows at the sudden change in the atmosphere.

you give him a prompting grin. “heads or tails.”

and it catches him so off guard, he says aloud, “what?”

you dig for a coin in your coat, “i’ll flip a coin and if it lands on heads, we go to the emergency room, no arguments, no fusses, no nothing.”

he frowns at that.

“but.” you tell him, and your grin gets wider as you show him the dime laid out on your palm, “if it’s tails, we go to my apartment, and i’ll try to fix you up there.”

his frown falls almost immediately into something else.

one night out with you and he’s already bleeding heavily and injured, and now you wanna take him back to your apartment?

were you trying to kill him?

“heads or tails, omi.”

he blinks at your words. and once again, he finds himself saying aloud, “what?”

you shoot him a funny look, your eyebrows slightly raising as your lips curve upward into a crooked smile.

you say, teasing, “if you don’t know; heads is the part of the coin with the head of the person showing on it and tails is the–”

sakusa grumbles loudly, cutting you off mid-sentence, making sure you see him roll his eyes at you, and he nudges you slightly with his foot.

he mutters, albeit under his breath, and he tries to hide it, but you can always tell when he’s smiling, “i know what a goddamned head is.”

you shrug, your grin wider now when you see his mood lighten up a bit.

“do you know what a goddamned tail is?”

sakusa huffs out an amused sigh. the smile on his face a lot more prominent now, and you only wonder slightly if it hurts him when he does it.

his shoulders fall as he’s defeated, “just take me to the emergency room.”

you let out a short laugh and the night doesn’t seem so quiet anymore.

you fall back against his shoulder, “ah, omi, are you just saving the opportunity to be invited into my apartment for our next date?”

there’s a choking sound to be heard in the air.

his face almost feels like it’ll erupt into flames by how casually you just said that, a hot pink hue creeping up from his neck to nose all the way to the tips of his ears. he blames it on the cold, and immediately, he presses the “icepack” back against his cheek.

sakusa stands up suddenly from the porch step, “let’s go now.”

and just like he said, he strides away, faster than what would usually be safe on snow-covered pavement.

“omi, not so fast!” you yell after him, rising from your own seat and following his pace, “you might fall again and hurt the other side of your face and atsumu will think i beat you up on our first date.”

he walks faster.

“i can go to the hospital myself, please don’t follow me.”

“that’s ridiculous! let me take care of you!”

he trips on his feet slightly as you say that and his heart feels like it would’ve fell from his mouth had he not caught himself before falling again.

you really were trying to kill him, weren’t you?

maybe this date doesn’t feel so bad after all.

and, is it too soon if he asks you to come have dinner with him again?

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munv · 2 months ago

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Malleus who is so baffled over the fact that his s/o is dead so he highkey takes your dead body and preserves it in its own room in his castle, flowers surround the glass clear casket. But he thinks that the flowers do little because your beauty shines in comparison.

He uses magic to prevent your body from decaying and often comes to it everyday to just sit in the room, something akin to a church while he sits and talks about his day.

He’s become isolated, and somewhere in his twisted mind he imagines you talk back to him in his dreams.

Sometimes when he gets lonely, he waltzs around the room with you and whispers sweet nothings. Almost as if you can actually hear him. Its sickening really.

Sometimes he goes into his library to study how to bring you back, diddling a bit in forbidden magic. But what are they going to do to the new king? Stop him? No, not even Lilia can stop this obsession

You died from his overblot many years ago, he just refuses to acknowledge it.

(Sorry ive been brainrotting terribly earlier)

#{-muxis writes #x reader #x y/n #headcanons #headcanon #oneshots #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #twst diasomnia #twst x reader #malleus draconia #brainrot #malleus headcanons #malleus twst #malleus x reader #yandere malleus x reader #twisted wonderland malleus #malleus draconia x reader

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hadesrise · 7 months ago

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## murder for you, baby !!

summary──── a justifiable serial killer on the loose, and jason finds himself being enamoured by him.

pairings──── jason todd x dbd!ghostface!male reader

warnings──── nsfw content, serial killer themes, dead dove do not eat, sexual arousal in response to violence or torture, murder, blood, deaths, gore, foul language, bottom!jason, top!reader, reader’s physique is described as tall and broad ( the slasher build ), possessiveness, choking, praise kink, blood kink, knife play ( reader carving his initials on jason ), toxic!reader ( ? ), sorta toxic relationship but also not, unprotected sex, love-making, pet names, overstimulation, dumbification, degradation if you squint, lil’ bit of manipulation, creampie, doggy style, mating press, biting, marking, oral ( r. receiving ), voice kink ( ? )

author’s note──── not me coming back with halloween themed fic after halloween days have passed lol. i’m alive, y’all !! hope you enjoy this one that took a fucking month to write 😭

𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ; this post may contain disturbing contents that may not be suitable for every reader — a reader discretion is advised. MINORS DNI !!

Gotham’s been terrorized by the worst people you could ever imagine, the kind that’ll stick with you forever and take residence to your nightmares if you were unfortunate enough. Many were hurt or even murdered as a result of the villains’ terrorization, with vigilantes running through the night to capture and send them to Arkham Asylum.

With the existence of a Psychopathic Clown, his equally psychopathic girlfriend with PHD’s that’s been wasted down the line, the Mother Nature freak, the ridiculously huge man with a gas mask on, the green coloured living question mark, and many others, no one would’ve ever thought anything could get any worse.

Until some criminals’ bodies turn up across the streets in such disturbing manner that haunts the witnesses to death.

One, a criminal who murdered young and homeless boys, gutted deeply to the point of their intestines hanging out. Another, a criminal known for kidnapping and selling people’s organs, mutilated with their torso torn back to expose the organs settled inside of them. Another one, a priest-turned-criminal who’s been violating women and children, crucified naked in his own church with his eyes gouged out, a Bible verse carved in his chest; ‘And if your eye causes you to sin, gouge it out and throw it away.’ Matthew 18:9; his penis cut off and body seemingly violated as well. Another more turns up, a governor-turned-criminal who’s been feeding into the rich despite their oath of generosity towards the poor, severely tortured with the skin on his back cut open, ribs severed from the spine and broken to the sides in order to create the illusion of wings, fluttering lungs pulled out from their chest cavity to resemble an eagle’s wings, with the word ‘traitor’ carved on his forehead.

The brutality and gruesome nature of the murders has set an alarming panic and fear across Gotham City that forced civilians into locking their doors at night. Criminals who were unidentified and not found by Gotham Police Department were also turning up in a form of miserable, tortured soul, along with the evidence and proofs of their crimes being carelessly laid beside their lifeless corpse.

The killer taunts those who are in charge of justice within their city each time the damned were unfortunate enough to be hunted down; pigs of failure written in the criminal’s blood right beside the drawing of a police’s logo.

However, despite how gruesome and disturbing the murders were, most people couldn’t deny that it was doing the city a favor. Justice System has failed more times than one could count to the extent of victims yearning to exact revenge themselves against their perpetrator, which causes most to react rather positively to the wrongful, unlikely hero who had seem to suddenly appear out of nowhere. The haunted finally getting the chance to slay the traumatic demons with the help of another psychopath on the loose.

Another justified monstrosity shouldn’t be the counter against one inhumane monstrosity that caused so much pain, trauma, and misery. But kindness could not vanquish one’s tainted blood. Forgiveness could not suddenly wash away the sins engraved deeply into one’s soul.

Imperfect, the victims muttered. An imperfect yet perfect way to save our burning souls wrongfully condemned by the criminals.

Red Hood has heard their murmurs.

Silent whispers of gratitude that fell on deaf ears, their previously dim soul brightening in relief and sanctuary with smiles on their faces as the Universe had finally took mercy on them and sent a Fallen Angel to slay the Demons away. He’s watched their spirit uplift, no longer chained down by the trauma and fear of the monsters that once ruined their lives, able to walk the streets carefree of tormentors. He’s watched their stiff posture visibly loosen, lively peacefulness settling itself at last within their haunted eyes. He’s watched them glow with happiness not feeling the presence of their perpetrator every couple of seconds, finally capable of living without needing to constantly look over their shoulders in paranoia and fear.

Ghostface is what the serial killer’s called, nickname born out of the mask that resembled a ghost always being left behind in crime scenes, each slightly different.

Jason has seen you. He didn’t mean to, really.

The temptation to get at least one look at you was great every-time he patrolled, wishing to just catch glimpse of an immoral hero who could make sacrifices no actual heroes could — who’s doing exactly what he wished before for Batman to do.

The Universe seems to have granted his wishes when his eyes catches the void of ghostface’s eyes, your mask tainted in splatters of blood from the dead criminal below you. Jason feels his world come to a stop as you slowly rise from crouching position and reveal your unnaturally tall height, broad shoulders visible under the black hooded leather. You hold silence and calmness despite being caught, tilting your head slightly to the side.

His heartbeat quickens yet he doesn’t feel fear. Jason idiotically steps closer as if he was in a trance, burning your existence within his eyes to engrave in his memory. Your bloody knife barely grazes his neck to stop him before using it to tilt his chin up, your figure looming and towering over him while seemingly staring into his eyes through his helmet.

A sense of peacefulness overcomes Jason being in your presence despite the absolute brutality and mercilessness that surrounded your entire being. You were deadly, silent, certainly creative with your work that it deems almost artistic, as if the criminals’ bodies were your own canvas to paint on — and Jason finds solace in you. A man he always needed, someone who’d be willing to cross the line and get rid of the actual evil for the sake of victims that’d be forever haunted if it continues to exist.

“I’ve heard things about you, Red Hood.”

Low, raspy, monotone voice speaks, sending shivers down his spine. It sounds cool and handsome regardless of the obvious use of voice changer, somehow littered with tiniest hint of flirtatiousness.

It takes him quite a while to answer, barely managing to let out a “yeah?” as he feels you drag the knife slightly closer to his pulse. His heartbeat quickens, but slows down when the cold metal was finally pulled away.

“Pleasant things,” You hummed, before your voice lowered a few octaves, “Can’t say the same about Batman.” Anger seems to seep through your tone that felt a little more than just sympathy for victims of villains Batman refused to put six feet under. Jason wondered if you’re also one of the victims his father failed.

“You… You know him that much?” Jason’s voice shakes from the nerve, your presence somehow greatly affecting him.

“I think everyone knows him enough,” You chuckled, but it sounded so empty that Jason can’t help but feel the goosebumps rise on his skin. It was quite chilling to meet someone who shows only a certain amount of emotion which could even be felt expressionless due to the monotonous pitch. The ghostface mask certainly did its job of making you seem more less human, the unmoving expression of ghost being horrified to death adding to the eeriness of your toneless mechanic voice.

Jason’s breath hitched when you took one step closer.

“But I know more about you. Your little past and the sufferings you’ve endured,” It’s spoken as if his life was one of your necessary investigation in your twisted justice. “It’s unfair, don’t you think? I would’ve gutted the Joker like a fish if it were to happen to my son.” There’s a condescending way in which you spoke, not directed at Jason but to Bruce.

“How—” Jason swallowed. “How did you—”

“I can make your dreams come true,” You interrupted him with a tempting offer, shutting him up effectively. Wide grin plastered your face despite not being seen behind your mask. “I can kill the Clown for you, Red Hood. If it means it’ll silence your troubled spirit. If it’ll bring you peace. I can hurt him on your behalf just like he deserves.”

It was like a whisper from the devil, slithering its way into Jason’s heart and mind to possess his soul, mirroring the one which whispered on Adam and Eve’s ears.

He’s been wanting — needing — to hear those words come out of Bruce. His suffering and death seemingly being brushed off as a cruel accident shattered him more than he’d ever admit, Bruce’s unhealthy coping mechanism and morality getting in the way of showing his love for Jason that left the younger man feel lesser than he was. Bruce was a complex person that’s sometimes difficult to understand, his impressive ways to stick to his morals being exactly his character, but Jason wanted for once, to actually feel how important he was to his father.

Was that too much to ask for, or was he just unworthy of the entirety of it?

“Why would you do that for me?” Confusion and subtle suspicion filled his tone as Jason narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out your intention despite the rush of hope that shot throughout his chest. He forced himself to feel nothing when you leaned in closer.

“Because you were wronged, of course.” You simply stated. “You are a victim. Not more, not less. You deserve a little more than just empty justice. And I’m a man who got tired of vigilantes that are afraid to make sacrifices for the greater good.” Then, you tilt your head slightly to the side in a way that’s somehow alluring. “But I can also say I’m intrigued by you.”

Jason’s heartbeat quickens again when your big hand seems to wrap perfectly around his throat, fingers resting just above his pulse points. It makes such filthy thoughts flood themselves into his mind, your long and quite thick fingers falling victims to his tainted imagination, and he had to give everything in himself not to bare his throat more for you. You seem pleased of his lack of disobedience and bite, having expected him to shove your hand away or flinch back before you could touch him. You’ve seen Red Hood once and how his uncontrollable rage resulted in violence, heavy burdens and extreme trauma turning him into a ticking time bomb that could explode any minute with the wrong move. He was absolutely lethal, the bullets serving as the evidence of his wrath and resentment towards the underground scumbags. It’s amusing that you have the man of violence himself now somehow completely under your control, surprisingly quiet and shy and obedient. You wondered if this is how he was before he was ruined by the cruelty of the world.

“You want it, don’t you? For me to kill the Joker.”

Jason feels as if you know everything he wants. Is this what it feels like to be important?

It takes a little while for him to answer, but he eventually came up with a “You’ll do that?” which sounded vulnerable and weak for the first time in his second life. Your heart clenched at the doubt and seemingly child-like vulnerability in which he uttered the words, as if he was afraid to trust something after being betrayed countless of times, reminding you of the sole person you’ve even began doing all of this for. They were quite similar yet so different — your older brother and Jason.

You hadn’t meant to cross his boundaries and unknowingly step into the empty hole that made home in his heart. Unconsciously slithering in like a snake by touching the subject his heart was longing for, not realizing his childhood’s still remaining within his spirit.

All he wanted was love and to feel safe again. You didn’t know the Red Hood was so adorably pitiful. A smirk plastered your face.

“I will,” You reassured and leaned your face inches away from his, the hand on his throat lifting his helmet slightly.

Jason doesn’t retaliate, blinded by a meat of hope dangled in front of him. He doesn’t move as the lower half of his face was exposed, and you lifted your own mask the same using your other hand. Jason willingly, obediently closes his eyes before your lips attached to his — a kiss of death, tasting like blood and cruelty. Warm and soft despite your rough, cold-blooded, corrupted soul. A kiss from the devil.

When Jason opened his eyes, you had already disappeared into the darkness with blood stains on the ground you stood before, a single note left behind; Hell will reopen for the Clown.

After neatly tucking the note inside his jacket and making sure no evidence has been accidentally left on the crime scene, Red Hood smiles for the first time in a long while and reaches for the comms without a heavy heart.

“Batman, I found another body.”

Whatever happens, he’ll have no knowledge of the following misfortune that’ll befall on the Joker. It’s the righteous serial killer’s doing, after all.

What was used to be a maniacal laughter turned into screams of agony and pain. Strong stench of death and blood makes euphoria rush within your mind, the feeling of slicing through flesh with your knife bringing pleasure and ecstasy that made your pants tight. There’s a certain amount of satisfaction in the way your own actions cause serious harm and scarring to criminals who once deemed themselves powerful, being reduced into nothing but a powerless prey that could easily be gotten rid of.

You feel increasingly powerful the more you strip them of their dignity and arrogance as they shed blood on the holy ground. Your existence alone striking them with crippling fear and anxiety feeds into your ego, yet you never stray away from the sole purpose or reason for your murders — making them taste their own medicine.

From what you found on countless deep dive and research, Joker preyed on Red Hood when he was still a young child full of life and joy, having been under the name Robin at the time. Second Robin to be exact, considering he was a lot different from the first one. It actually surprisingly pained you when you’d seen how much of an adorable, dorky, nice kid he was before misfortune cut his life short. You would’ve never thought you would find a kid adorable in your entire life, the little menaces often being nothing more than a headache to be around with that caused a certain dislike to grow towards them within you, but Jason was everything a cute kid was. Just excited to be there, to be fighting alongside Batman, to be relevant.

Such a precious boy ruined for the sake of shits and giggles for the Clown. For the sake of getting under Batman’s skin. And the Bat couldn’t even make fucking amends to his flaws as a father and mentor.

Well, he didn’t need to anymore.

You’ll give Red Hood— Jason Todd —what he wants. Yearned for. Perhaps, even what the other civilians who have fallen victims to this vile criminal want. You would stop at nothing until every criminal is gurgling and choking on their own blood.

Joker’s scream shoots a jolt of electricity within your body as your knife pierce through his skinny thigh and to the ground, pinning his leg down. You had been doing an effective job of reducing the maniac into nothing but a screaming, cowering average victim by torture. Bruises, burns, gashes, and stab wounds littered his body that was done carefully enough to not be life-threatening. Fucker was laughing maniacally at first, of course. It irritated you so much that you might’ve went a little overboard.

Watching Joker heave and struggle to breathe from the pain, you tilted your head and roughly grabbed his throat. It catches him off guard and he grips your wrist, barely even having the strength to fight you off. You’re amused by the entirety of Joker’s nature, how he’s still just an average man that can easily be overpowered — nothing that makes him special enough to not be killed, becoming proof of Batman’s selfish willingness to let the victims suffer than bring them actual peace.

You’ve never uttered a word since you captured him and it unnerved Joker from the beginning, but then, words finally come out of your mouth in a form of monotonous, mechanical, emotionless, eerie voice as you lean over him; “Laugh it out, Joker. Why so serious?”

It sounded like a death sentence.

He’s right in a way, because another of your knife pierced the corner of his mouth soon as you uttered the words. Your other hand tightened on his arteries to choke him while you drag the knife to slit the side of his mouth into a grin, following the lines of his red lipstick. It was certainly not a clean cut, but an artist has their own creative ways to make their art. Tears mixed in with blood that gushes out of his face, complete horrors written across Joker’s eyes which boosts your satisfaction. You go on and do the same thing to the other side of his mouth, before finishing your art piece by carving ‘J’ on his painted cheek.

You resist the urge to moan at the sight of blood coating your fine piece, always finding it to be an amazing finishing touch.

From then on, Joker was brought to literal Hell.

Jason flinches when a playful knock sounded from his safe house’s window, cautiously approaching to see ghostface waving at him through the glass. His eyes widened and immediately opens the window to let you in, not wanting anyone to see you — your sudden appearance distracting him from the fact he’s never given anyone the location of his safe house.

He stops in track at the blood splatters across your mask, and just then had he noticed you seemed to be hiding something behind your back with one hand. It definitely strikes his curiosity, but he somehow didn’t feel like you were holding something that could harm him.

“You got something for me, ghostface?” Jason feels you grin under your mask.

“Got you a present,” Your raspy, rough voice enthusiastically quipped.

Jason’s breath hitches when you show what you were holding — the Joker’s decapitated head in a square glass container tainted by its blood. You obviously had planned to bring it barehand, but you considered the possibility of its blood dripping down on his safe house and becoming a false evidence to point him to the murder, which prompted you to put it inside the container. An unbelievably sweet gesture for a fucking psychopath like you.

Jason could feel his heart beat rapidly as he takes in the animal’s state, carved up grin and the letter J and the horrors seen in its lifeless eyes proving the absolute misery and suffering it went through before being put down. The monster was finally, finally slain and gone forever from his life. Nightmares detangles from his spirit and the past unwraps away from his soul, utter peace and relief spreading throughout his chest. Tears gathered in his eyes at the feeling of being free at last from the life long torment, breath shaking as his knees wobbled.

The child in himself, the innocent Robin that was killed unfairly, finally rests in peace.

Then he sees you, his hero, waving your seemingly new knife playfully in the air with your outfit splattered in blood without a care that you actually saved him, and Jason feels a sudden surge of arousal and will to submit. To give you everything, anything.

“Do you love it, Red Hood?”

Without answering you, Jason grabs the glass container with shaky hands and sets it aside on the counter before stepping back closer to you again, blood rushing to his veins from arousal. He removes his helmet with a thud on the floor and falls to his knees in front of you, lustful and yearning emerald eyes looking up at you.

“Let me thank you, please.”

It makes you groan as your pants significantly tightens more.

You slide your knife back into the holster before cupping his beautiful face in your hands, and thank fucking Heavens there wasn’t any blood on it that would taint his face, because he’s a sight to behold. He’s truly a gem, something precious you had never seen before. “So beautiful,” You whispered, making Jason flush. “Baring yourself to me for such a simple present, doll?”

“Not a simple present,” Jason mumbled as he snuggles on the palm of your hands. “You saved me.”

You hum appreciatively, getting the itch to bare yourself to him as well. “You wanna thank me by what?”

Jason looks back at you, face flushed with a little hint of uncertainty and embarrassment, doubts. “I— uhm,” He stammers, but encouraged by your thumb’s gentle stroke on his cheek. “By… by becoming yours.”

Your cock throbs. Fuck, he’s so fucking adorable, you just wanna fuck his guts out. You’re usually tempted to gut people, not fuck their guts— which is funny to say the least— but you weren’t going to say no when the Red Hood’s so willing to offer himself up.

“You wanna take my mask off, doll?” He seems surprised by your question as if he hadn’t thought of it, making you chuckle. “If you wanna be mine, I gotta be yours too, don’t I?” It was dangerous to reveal your identity to him, but you couldn’t care less, especially when you could just fuck his brains out to shut him up. That’s the plan, first time that didn’t include butchering or cutting a body up.

Jason fucking Todd and his effects on you.

The emerald eyed male hesitantly grasped your mask when you led his hands to it, slowly lifting it over your head. He’s met with a fucking luscious feature to ever be adorned on a man and dark, lustfully murderous blood red eyes that makes a whimper slip past his lips. You merely widened your eyes at the sound he made before immediately grabbing his jaw and smashing your lips against his, swallowing Jason’s surprised gasp.

He reciprocates the insatiable hunger you displayed, tongue dancing along with yours and moaning into the kiss when your fingers lightly tugged on his hair. You pull him up in amidst of making out and squeeze his ass, encouraging him to wrap his legs around your hips. You detach your lips from his to trail kisses down his jaw and neck as you walked towards his bedroom, questionably knowing where it is, and Jason tilts his head back to give you more access with closed eyes. Letting him stimulate both of your restrained cocks by grinding down, you sat down on the bed and sucked on his throat as Jason moaned.

“Please, please…” He whimpers, uncontrollably moving his hips in a perfect rhythm yet he seemed to want something else.

You pulled away and traced his lips with your thumb, watching as he naturally took it in and sucked, giving you a desperate look. Swiftly turning off the voice changer attached to your neck in a form of choker, you chuckled when his hands fiddled with the belt on your hooded coat. “So needy, aren’t you?” Your real voice sends shivers down his spine.

An alluring, low, slightly rough pitch and somehow more emotionless than when you were using the voice changer. It makes his cock twitch and empty hole clench down on nothing, the need to be stuffed full of your cum swarming in his belly. You’re fucking bewitching, a man made up from every guy and girl’s fantasy, wet dream, and your attractiveness mirroring the Devil’s that would tempt and lure others to sin.

How the fuck were you real?

“Speak up, pretty bird.” You smirked, “What do you want?”

“Your cock,” Jason mutters, cheeks tinted in pink. “Wanna suck your cock and make you feel good.”

“Fuck…” You shifted in place, “You’ll do that f’me? Get my cock nice and wet to take you apart? To fuck your guts out?”

Jason shakily inhales and nods, climbing off your lap and kneeling on the floor. You lean back on your hands as he unstraps your belt and slide your zipper down, slightly raising your hips to help him get rid of the excess clothes. Your thick and lengthy cock smacks against your clothed stomach, making Jason’s mouth water. Thick veins throbbed on your big shaft, the tip angry and red from arousal leaking precum. It wasn’t just big, it was long, and Jason squeezes his thighs together to keep himself from just riding your cock all day.

His hand wraps around the base, starting to stroke it with a content rhythm. God, you were so fucking big. It’d definitely split him open if you shove it in so suddenly and fill him up nice. It’d make him scream his head off from the unbearable length and girth, almost too much, and Jason wants you to force him to take it. Pin him down and fuck him despite his pleas to stop.

Jason swipes his thumb over the slit, smearing precum, pumping it for a good amount before licking a stripe up the underside of your cock. You shudder, removing your gloves to slip your bare fingers through Jason’s hair, encouraging him to take you in. He obeys, relaxing his throat first before sliding your cock inside his warm mouth, and you groaned at the warmth that surrounded you. It almost didn’t fit from how big you were, but Jason braced himself and took it in further until he gagged as the tip touched the back of his throat. Wrapping his hand around your shaft that he couldn’t take in, stroking gently as if to apologize.

A moan slips past your lips when he starts bobbing his head, tongue brushing against the underside of your dick. “Fuck… Doin’ so good,” You roll your head back. “Such a pretty face to fuck, ain’t ya?”

Jason whines, tears gathered in his eyes as he sucks and fastens his rhythm. Curses, grunts leave your lips that left him feeling all hot and bothered, his other hand moving to skillfully pull his pants down and free his aching cock.

You see him touching himself and a smirk adorns your sinful face, gently scratching his scalp with your nails which earned you a whimper from him. “Go on, fuck yourself. We both know it wouldn’t fit that easily without proper prep,” Expression twisting into a cocky one, your grip on his hair tightened. “I’ll do as I please with your mouth until you’re done.”

Without waiting for his approval, you roughly shoved your cock deep down his throat and moaned loudly, throwing your head back. Jason gagged with a loud whimper as his eyes rolled back into his skull and cum shot out from his throbbing cock, hips jutting forward and twitching due to the sudden orgasm. You chuckle lowly, amusement and lust glinting in your bright red eyes, before you pull back and ram on his throat again.

Jason’s cries and moans were muffled as you ruthlessly use his throat to gain pleasure. His mind has already turned into mush from your assaults, white cum and precum staining the floor yet he doesn’t put up a fight. Taking it all like the good, obedient boy that he is. He’s reached behind him to insert two fingers in his awaiting hole, walls clamping down on the digits from the arousal of his throat being utterly wrecked.

Yesyesyes, please. He chanted in his mind. Use me, mark me, cum in my throat, make me yours.

The moment you fulfilled your promise and delivered him the head of his enemy, he was already yours. It’s all he ever wanted. Unquenchable thirst that always gnawed on his throat and hunger that left his stomach restless, his soul practically teared in half from being battered and beaten. He matters now — mattered enough to you, that you went ahead and killed the source of his misery. The love exploding in his chest was almost unbearable; he was already high on cloud nine from the moment he’s seen you present the head so cheerfully.

You see how he looks up at you, emerald eyes almost displaying hearts with how much he was melting. He’s taken your murderous act as an affection, and you couldn’t be more happy, because it’s what you intended.

“Shit, baby… Gonna cum soon,” You panted, thrusting vigorously. Jason hums and flexes his throat to provide you more pleasure, making you tighten the grip on his hair. “You want me to cum down your throat?”

You earned a desperate whine from him, closing his eyes to prove he was waiting for it. His fingers kept their own assault on his prostate, scissoring and stretching the squishy walls, muffled moans escaping him.

God, he looked so fucking gorgeous. He’d look even more gorgeous with your dick ramming inside him.

Jason feels your big cock throb in his mouth and his fingers move more aggressively to pleasure himself, wanting to reach his high at the same time as you. Stimulating your tip with the back of his throat a few times, you moaned loudly with a curse when Jason slightly flicks his tongue over your sensitive underside, forcing an orgasm out of your body. White, thick, warm seeds spurt out from your slit to his awaiting throat as Jason whimpered in delight and shot another layer of cum on the wet stained floor, hips thrusting in the air.

He greedily swallows every drop that spilled down his mouth despite the euphoria making him feel dizzy as his body slightly trembles.

You chuckled, breathing heavily, pleased expression spread across your face. “Good boy. That was such a good throat-fuck.”

The raspy, sultry tone of your voice makes electricity and chills run through Jason’s spine as his walls clench down on his fingers, yearning to be filled. Jason certainly doesn’t have a womb — it’s anatomically impossible — yet he couldn’t help but feel like it’s there, waiting and aching to be fucked and bred. He needs your cum to be pushed so far inside him. Need to be marked entirely as yours inside and out. Need you to rearrange his guts, fuck his brains out, breed him full, then fuck your cum further back into him.

Jason pulled his fingers out, whimpering at the loss of contact, before looking back up at you with begging eyes. “Can you-?” His voice cracks as he swallows, “Take me apart, please. Make me yours, fuck, I wanna be yours.”

You noticed tears gathering in his eyes, as if being rejected of his want to be your possession would be an ultimate heartbreak in his life; a life-threatening, gnawing thorn in his heart that’ll tear him apart piece by piece and shredding his soul. Jason thinks he can’t live without becoming yours, his savior’s. He can’t live without the source of his safety, the man that fulfilled his silly little dream and sacrificed his own sanity for it.

It absolutely amuses you that he’s become so attached just because you’ve driven him away from harm’s way. A little dumb, but he was your little dumb doll.

You gently caress his face and Jason leans into your touch, making your lips curl upwards into a smile. “Of course, doll.”

It leads to Jason being pressed face first on the mattress as you rail him from behind, sinful and alluring noises leaving his lips stained in drool. Your name escapes him like a chanted prayer, hands gripping the sheets, electricity sparking within his mind that left him dumb and unable to think coherently.

“Fuh-fuck! mgh, ah- yes, oh my god—!” He cries out when you pulled almost entirely back and rammed your cock roughly into him, almost seeing stars in his vision.

The roughness in which you handled him, the perfect angle of your hips allowing you to force pleasure out of his body every-time you thrust, the way you push his back down on the mattress to make him arch more into your merciless tactic, leaves Jason absolutely delirious. You didn’t just fuck him good; you fucked him with absolute vigor and violence, occasionally biting strongly on his shoulder to draw blood, showcasing your natural instincts as a serial killer. He feels your big fucking dick throb and gets impossibly bigger inside him each time his blood seeps out the broken skin, and Jason’s head spins at how much it drove arousal in his core.

“Good fuckin’ sex toy,” You grunted, roughly slamming your hips against his and causing a sharp moan to erupt from Jason.

“B-big—! s’too big- fuck!” Jason whines, tears spilling endlessly down his cheeks.

You smirk as you feel your ego skyrocket at being able to reduce a rather muscular man into nothing but a whining, blabbering bitch. “Yeah? I do split you open, don’t I? But you love it since you’re such a fuckin’ slut.”

“oh- aghn! y-yours— hnngh! Your s-slut! No one else’s-!” He chokes out, desperately reaching for you behind him.

“So fuckin’ adorable,” You chuckled and grabbed his hand, pinning it back to the mattress as you hover over him. You seem to fit against each other perfectly well, your large and tall body able to encage him that left Jason’s stomach fluttering. He’s taken a lot liking of the fact you’re bigger than him, considering he’s never been the smaller one when he was with others. It gives him a sense of shelter.

“p-please— pleaseplease- oh! cum— fuck… cum in me again!” Jason blabbered.

You can’t help but comply to his request, fastening your pace and drilling more into him. Incoherent sentences spill from his drooling mouth when he feels your cock pulse within his walls that signified your soon release. There’s a purpose in which you thrust your hips now — more sharp and angled yet a little sloppy, aimed to brush against his prostate and make him feel utterly good.

“Shit… Cummin’, doll.” You grunted right in his ear before shoving him on the mattress by the back of his nape and slamming all the way down on his already gaping hole.

Jason nearly screams, voice cracking, as his orgasm hits like a strong tide of wave at the same time you spilled thick layer of white semen into his fucked out guts. You ride out your orgasm by thrusting slowly a few times as Jason’s body violently shakes from the aftershock. He subconsciously whines in annoyance when some of your previous cum seems to overflow and replaced by your recent one, bucking his hips as if to use your big cock as a plug to keep them all in. His belly felt full from how much you’ve been filling him with your seed yet it still didn’t feel enough. Jason wanted more; he knew you weren’t going full on him yet.

You swiftly turned him around on his back without pulling out and kissed him roughly. Jason mewls into the kiss when the position makes you push more deeper into him, his hands immediately clasping at the back of his thick thighs to pull them up and make it easier for you to fuck.

“My cute little thing,” You murmured against his lips and bit the skin to draw blood, Jason’s hole squeezing down on you from both the pain and pet name. He greedily whimpers your name, holding onto you for life and yearning for more of you despite already receiving what he wants.

It was so fucking adorable and arousing to see him desperate for not just you, but your entire being as well, willing to welcome such darkness with open arms and tearful smile. You weren’t really a desirable person; so many people have thrown themselves at you for your conventionally attractive features and masculine body type that swoons hundreds yet cower away in fear and speak of you in disgrace when shown the demons living inside of you. No one could seem to look past your murderous, cold-blooded psychopathy — some have attempted to, which only resulted in your darkness growing bigger when they break their own promises. You weren’t meant to be loved. Your destiny was written in the stars and the Gods have cursed you with eternity of living in loneliness and madness without cure. You were meant to be feared, a lonely and violent soul that couldn’t be tamed, your sole purpose of existence being a destroyer; nothing more or less.

Jason, however, seems indifferent to your fate.

Instead of running away in disgust and fear at your acts of violence around the city, he was seeking for you. He’s seen what you’ve done, what you could do without feeling remorse, what monsters lie beneath your existence — and still, he graciously opens his heart (and legs) for you. There’s love and desire within his eyes where distaste should be, touch so soft and warm it baptizes your tainted skin. You’re soaked in blood yet Jason takes his time with you to clean them up. Born with thorns yet he willingly prickles his fingers on them.

You’re a danger everywhere you go, but to him, you were home.

It makes your heart clench; he’s broken the Gods curse and it costs him his freedom, because now he’s caught up in your webs. You wouldn’t let him go, like a snake that’s wrapped itself around its prey in a death grip.

Jason wanted to be yours. What better ways to fulfill his wish if not possessing his body, soul, and spirit?

“Sweet dumb thing,” You purred, hips thrusting slow and sensual, unable to forgive parts of his walls that weren’t touched by your cum. “Mine to fuck, ruin, or make love to. That’s right, yeah?”

Jason nods, moaning softly. Your hands now replaced where his were on the back of his thighs, bending him almost in half as you roll your hips to gently brush against every weak spot he has. The sudden shift in rhythm and atmosphere confuses Jason for a bit, his fogged mind unable to comprehend the situation at hand, but the intimacy strikes a further pleasure that was nearly mind-breaking. He’s been reduced to a moaning mess, blood, sweat, tears and cum coating his body.

“p-please,” Jason keened, like it felt agonizing to be loved ever so gently. “I— ah… I want- I want you,” He stuttered out between moans.

“You’re having me, aren’t you?” Replying, you nipped on his neck and sucked, leaving behind a purple bruise.

He nearly cries, shaking his head. A waterfall of tears streamed down his face, and you find yourself captivated by them. It was almost ethereal despite being one of human’s responses to most things imaginable; your victims always shed one or two accompanied by begs of mercy, but all you’ve ever thought of them was amusing. It’s been used as an escaping tactic from you before, which was never successful due to your lack of morality and sympathy towards your target. They were pathetic, but Jason was divine. Tears suited him— not tears of fear, but tears of pleasure and utopia.

Your focus snaps back on reality when Jason suddenly pulled you down by the nape and bit down hard on your shoulder. A pleasured groan leaves your lips at the pain, hips bucking, making him whimper.

“Jason—”

“Please,” He cuts you off and finally murmurs; “Wanna f-feel how… mhm-! how you actually love…”

It strikes something in your core. Despite your perfect skills of hiding your true nature and never being caught, Jason saw it right through you, how you were holding yourself back for his sake. Quite ironic to witness a cold-blooded killer care for someone enough to go soft, even though it looked like you were going rough on him, and it warmed Jason’s heart. But he was a greedy, fucked up human being who wanted all of you. It wouldn’t be enough until he knows he’s taken you fully.

An amused laughter erupts from your chest. Eyes darkening in lust, Jason feels one of your hands wrap around his throat warningly as the other pushed his torso flat down on the mattress. “You… You’ll be the fuckin’ death of me, Todd.”

You pull all the way back before ramming in, making Jason let out a loud, choked up moan as his eyes rolled back into his head. Your thrusts relentless and powerful, slamming against Jason’s body with an intensity that made his head spin, your hand holding his throat as a leverage. Your name spills from his lips like a prayer, something that seems to ignite a possessive feeling within you. Jason can’t help but mewl when your grip tightened on his arteries, throwing his head back to let you gain fully control.

The way he’s so obedient and putty in your hands despite knowing you can kill him if you truly meant to makes you love him even more, fucking him and taking away his ability to breathe wasn’t enough. Greediness turning overboard with the darkness and psychopathy that lies within your existence; you almost wanted to cut him open and crawl inside his guts so you could truly claim Jason, inside and out. You wanted to be more closer to him, see how far you can go without Jason pushing you away or getting disturbed.

Jason’s eyes widened when a cold metallic silver touched his cheek, seeing you holding your signature knife through blurred vision from his tears. However, he doesn’t flinch away like you expected him to, instead his walls squeezes down on your cock and his own twitched against his stomach. The unexpected reaction pulls a loud groan out of you, your hips bucking.

“Shit, Jay… You lettin’ me kill you or somethin’? Good fucking cunt just tightened on me,” You rasped, thrusting your cock against his prostate.

Jason gasps, his hands grabbing the mattress and holding it in a tight grip. It’s so shameful how turned on he was at the danger that lurked around you, his usually sharp instincts relinquished to be replaced by naiveté and stupidity for love. He must’ve gone insane; getting killed was one of his triggers because of his past yet his soul yielded nothing in retaliation to the possibility of your blade slicing through him. All of him seems to have come to love and trust you too much just because you’ve decapitated the beast his entire existence feared, which a part of him found utterly ridiculous and idiotic, but not enough to stop.

He wouldn’t stop himself from loving you — not when you’ve given him the love he always yearned for.

You lean in and ghost your lips over his as you dragged the knife on his torso, lightly scraping him. Jason’s breath quickens, his pupils blown wide in lust and need, anticipation seemingly running through his body as his moans turned into desperate whines.

“p-please…!” He chokes out a whisper, rolling his head to the side and whimpering when you snapped your hips warningly on his. “feels— fuck! feels g-good—! c-carve me… hngh! carve me u-up-! shit… make me fuckin’ bleed…! please,” Jason nearly cries for you.

Groaning out a curse, you reflexively bite down hard on the crook of his neck and push more of your cock inside him, causing a loud keen to erupt from Jason as he squirms and cums on his own stomach at the addictive sense of pleasure and pain shooting through his body.

You licked the blood that seeped out from his skin, satisfied at the clear bite mark you’ve left visible before sensually grinding your hips. Jason whimpered quietly, his body still trembling from the aftershocks of his orgasm.

“That’s it, doll. Let go, feel good. m’not gonna hurt ya, sweetheart. It’ll all feel good,” Whispering sweet words, you slowly press the tip of the knife just above the v line of his hip and drag it down. Jason hissed at the prickle of pain and tensed up, but the pleasure of your cock stimulating his sensitive walls was too great that forced him to relax. “It’s alright, doll. Jus’ carving you up with my name, so you’ll be mine forever. Isn’t that what you want? Be fuckin’ mine?”

Jason moaned softly, nodding his head. Series of pleasepleaseplease blabber out of him accompanied by heavenly noises he’s been making since you started taking him apart, his brain too fucked out that forcibly twisted pain into pleasure as all he could think about was becoming yours. You, his savior, his God, claiming him by marking him up with your name. Jason feels like he could fucking squirt from just that thought alone.

His blood seeping out from the letters of your name arouses you to no end, your cock throbbing inside him while you continue to move, the darkness within you being thoroughly fed of its bloodthirsty hunger. This is the first time it doesn’t gnaw at your skin to drive your knife deeper, pull the guts out, and splatter redness everywhere; instead, it wanted to be gentle, as if Jason was a significant existence too precious to hurt even for the Devil. A proof that Jason was always meant to be yours, the only one who the monster inside you would rather love than kill.

Carving the last letter, you laughed breathlessly in satisfaction and stabbed the knife on the headboard before slamming your lips against his, devouring his pleasurable noises. Jason whines, arms wrapping around your neck to pull you impossibly closer, arching his back when you switched into a much faster and rougher pace.

“Cummin’, fuck!” You grunted, to which Jason wrapped his legs around your hips to make sure it stays in.

“I-in— in me… fuck- oh my god— please… please, cum in me. Make me full again, p-please…” He begs, clenching his walls around you to push you over the edge, his own orgasm nearing.

Seeing him covered in his own tears, sweat, blood and drool fills you with nothing but pure ecstasy knowing it’s all because of you. The most appealing, ravishing man being a slutty mess right beneath you, begging to be bred and full of your cum, does feed too much into your ego. No one can do anything to take you away from him now, because you’re wrapped around his fingers as much as he is around yours.

“Anythin’ for ya, doll.” You chuckled, thrusting a couple more times before shoving your twitching cock deep into his guts with a moan and releasing your load. Jason mewls, his hole throbbing and squeezing down on you as he throws his head back, tainting his abdomen once more.

Riding out both of your highs, you let out a raspy groan and kissed his lips again, Jason weakly reciprocating due to the overstimulation. His body trembled hard, mind almost shutting down from the exhaustion and too much euphoria. “So good, doll. Took me like a good fuckin’ boy. Fuckin’ amazing.” You praised.

Jason could still see darkness in your eyes, the murderous devil, but there’s a hint of happiness he didn’t recognize before. Love and adoration filled your expression despite the violence engraved in your soul, and Jason finds himself smiling against your lips lightheadedly.

He whispers your name like a forbidden secret, then a curse that completely binds you to him; “I love you.”

You could get used to this, you suppose. There’s nothing more poetic than violence meeting love — two opposites can’t coexist with each other, but perhaps it’ll be forced to. After all, the Devil in you decided he was an untouchable divinity no one shall ever harm, not even yourself, despite its never-ending monstrosity towards humanity.

“I love you too, my Jason.”

When Joker’s decapitated head on a makeshift spear turned up that night, stacked upright in front of Arkham Asylum with blood splattered across the ground in words ‘True Justice for the Tortured Souls’ and a bloody ghostface mask laid aside for everyone else to see, Jason knew he was now in safe hands.

People say, never make a deal with the devil.

They never said he couldn’t love one, did they?

2K notes · View notes

milkluvr333 · 11 months ago

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Not pleased with the lack of new fics for my fav characters (hyper fixations) lately. The withdrawals are eating me alive

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parkers-gal · 4 months ago

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promise J.B.

summary: bucky is protective over reader, the new lab assistant and resident doctor at the compound

wc: 2k

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

a/n: no warnings (lmk if i missed anything). barely proof read. requests are open!

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the first time he met you, he was expecting dr. cho’s usual lab assistant. it was meant to be a brief check in after his latest mission with sam, just a minor tweak to a piece of tech on his uniform.

“hey, do you thin-” bucky strides in to dr. miller’s office, full tactical suit still on. he’d came straight from the quinjet, but glancing up from his arm holster he notices that dr. miller’s office is now replaced by your office.

you look up from your lab report, a pile of open wires laying beside it as you twiddle with the machinery. “oh, i’m sorry. i think dr. banner forgot to notify you: dr. miller transferred to shield co-op missions. i’m his replacement.” you wipe the sweat from your hand onto your white lab coat and stand from your chair. “i’m y/n.”

bucky reads the nametag on your labcoat, dr. l/n. “oh.” his eyes move from the tag to your eyes. “sorry.”

your smile immediately shifts whatever emotions he just had about the situation. your expression is soft and for a moment, bucky thinks you’re too innocent to be working in a business surrounded by violence. it provokes something deep in his stomach, something he can’t quite place.

“i’d be happy to assist you with whatever you need, though!” you smile again, this one giving bucky an even warmer feeling through his chest. “i already read all of dr. miller’s previous lab reports, and i’m just as good with needles as i am with technology.” you shift your head towards the mutilated hardware on your desk, then smile back at bucky.

he almost chuckles. almost. instead, he adorns a smirk, so subtle you might not have caught it had you not been staring at him, waiting for a reply. hesitantly, he steps forward, holding his arm out to show you what he needs changed.

that was four months ago. now, bucky looks for any excuse to head to your office, whether it be a slightly twisted wrist, a broken button on his suit, or even a question about a new weapon for his next mission.

“what can i do for you today, james?” your back is turned to him. you’re busy fiddling with a microscope, but bucky can hear the smile on your face.

“bucky,” he corrects. ��are you going to tony’s gala this saturday?”

you stop squinting and stand upright, turning to face him. you have a quizzical look on your face. “do doctors usually go to those sorts of things?”

bucky shrugs. “i think dr. cho has before.”

you hum, turning back to the microscope. “well, i do need to catch up with natasha…” you turn the knob for the lens. “is that why you came to see me?”

he pauses. you hear his feet shuffling and smile to yourself. “i just wanted to ask about… my… belt.”

you suppress a laugh and face him again “really?” you grin. “your belt?”

he hums, a tint spreading on his cheeks.

“well, i haven’t had lunch yet, if you would like to get something for us, we can talk about your belt during my break.”

his head perks up at that. “okay, i’ll be back in twenty.”

he’s out of the room so quick and it makes you smile again. as you turn back to the microscope, somebody else enters.

“back alread- oh.”

john walker.

you have never been particularly fond of him, especially after a heated argument he had with sam and steve a couple months back. he works for shield, but sometimes they send him to the avenger’s compound to retrieve specific types of upgrades or get intel about an overlapping mission.

“aw, don’t seem too disappointed, sweets.” he smiles, the image disgusting you.

you walk away from the microscope towards a centrifuge sitting on the opposite counter.

“what can i help you with?”

“what, i come all this way and i can’t just talk to you?”

you bite your lip. “i’m afraid i don’t understand.”

he laughs. “i want to get to know you.”

“like right now?”

“right now… over dinner…” he smiles again, the same disgusting one. “whichever you prefer.”

unsure on how to reply, you turn back to the machine. “i don’t know if that’s appropriate.”

“but it’s okay if you do it with bucky?”

“what about me?” bucky steps through the door with a bag of food in one hand. once noticing john, his jaw clicks. “what are you doing here?”

“just wanted to talk to the lady, that’s all.” he shrugs his shoulders. “is that against the law?”

“it is if she doesn’t want that.”

your gaze shifts to bucky. his blue eyes are piercing, and his gaze is colder than any he’s ever given you. you sense the tension growing the longer he stares at john.

john interrupts the silence. “what’s the issue, man?” he steps towards bucky. it’s a small step, but it has bucky rigid. “it’s not like she’s taken. she’s free game.”

bucky scoffs. “if you speak about women like they’re prizes to win then you don’t deserve to speak to them.”

your heart flutters. after all he’s been through, bucky still chooses to be an amazing guy. your admiration for him only grows.

“nobody said anything about that.” john raises his hands in surrender. “don’t get jealous… it’s not like she’s yours…”

his jaw clenches again. you can see his hands are balled into fists at his side. faintly, you hear the whirring of the metal plates in his arm.

“i think you should leave.”

bucky steps aside, clearing a space for john to walk out the door. reluctantly, he leaves, but not before sparing you another glance and whispering a “call me.”

when he’s finally left the room, you exhale, glancing back to bucky and his tense shoulders.

“thank you… for that.”

he blinks. his eyes finally find you and he blinks away the tension.

“of course. you shouldn’t have to put up with that, especially in your place of work.”

you nod and a shy smile takes over your face. you move a strand of hair to behind your ear and turn back to the machine so bucky doesn’t notice your face. he does anyway.

“so, lunch?”

═══════════ ⋆★⋆ ═══════════

saturday evening rolls around and, after having double checked with tony and natasha about the validity of your invitation, you get dressed for the gala. the dress fits your form and drapes down to just below your knees. you pair it with a simple pair of heels and your favorite necklace.

you hope bucky likes it.

stop. that’s inappropriate. we’re work colleagues. he would’ve helped out any girl that needed it, he-

oh fuck.

you notice him immediately. he’s sat at the bar talking to steve, legs draped off the bar seat, thighs thick even in his dress pants. his long hair is neatly swept back, and the glass of bourbon in his metal hand clinks from the ice.

natasha spots you first. she was just by the entrance, and she immediately greets you.

“how are you?”

you smile at her, happy to be with her after having not had the chance lately. “good, busy in the lab as always.”

she chuckles understandingly. “seems like tony has everyone working overtime.”

she goes on about one thing or another, but at some point you tune her out because bucky has finally noticed you. you can tell he’s tuned steve out too.

he can’t stop staring. granted, he always stares at everyone, but the way he looks at you differs from that so much. it has your knees weak and you can feel your heart pound a little harder in your chest. his tongue darts out to wet his lips and the faintest smirk appears on his face.

steve turns around to see what his best friend is staring at. noticing you, he leans his head back at the sudden enlightenment and faces bucky. he speaks lowly, “why don’t you ask her out?”

bucky jerks his head towards steve. “what?” he’s defensive at having just been caught. “why would i do that?”

steve rolls his eyes. “because visiting her office everyday is totally normal…” his tone is laced with sarcasm.

you’ve been spending too much time with sam.

“shut up.”

“so you don’t like her, then?”

“i-” bucky huffs. “i never said that.”

“well, i’d act fast.”

his brows furrow. “Why?”

steve points towards you and bucky’s gaze shifts from his best friend to you. there, john walker attempts to offer you a drink, and bucky can tell even from his distant spot at the bar that you’re smiling to be polite.

he doesn’t reply to steve, abandoning his drink and his friend at the bar as he makes his way over to you.

“can i help you?”

john has to turn to look at bucky, his smile dropping. you can tell he’s aggravated by the presence of the former winter soldier.

“no, i think we’re good.” he doesn’t even attempt to make his smile look genuine.

“i don’t think we are.” bucky steps closer to you. his head dips down, lips close to your ear as he speaks in a low whisper. “you okay, peaches?”

you smile, giddy at the sudden pet name. you nod gently, grateful for bucky’s care, and try not to bite your lip from the interaction.

“why don’t you go somewhere else?” bucky’s gentle tone is replaced with a stoic one, his annoyance for john returning.

“why can’t i just talk to the girl?” he looks at you expecting your defense.

bucky’s left hand wraps around your waist. his fingers rub your side softly, gracing your hip. your stomach flips in a fit of butterflies. the sudden act of affection has your knees buckling. you want him to pull you closer in case you collapse.

“she’s not interested.”

john’s eyes widen slightly and he backs away, muttering something under his breath. you feel bucky’s metal fingers squeeze your side slightly. he turns to look at you.

“i’m sorry about him.”

you can barely hold eye contact. “it’s not your fault.” a sudden boost in courage has you pulling your hand up to smooth out the lapel of his suit. “besides, you’re my hero.”

his eyes flicker with appreciation at having been called that. “yeah?”

you hum in agreement. his other hand reaches towards your face, tracing the hair that sits behind your ear, pinned up in the updo you’ve done for the gala. another stomach flip.

“in that case, does your hero get any reward?” he has a playful smirk, his tone light.

“i suppose…” you smile back. “got anything in mind?”

he pulls you until you're facing him directly. his other hand sits at your waist, too. now you can’t look away, forced to look into his eyes as he undresses you with them. he hums as if the answer sits on his tongue. his metal hand pulls you forward, forcing you to take a step closer to him. his flesh hand moves from your waist to your cheek, nose brushing against yours, delicate, like a dance. his breath fans against your face and your eyelids flutter shut. you exhale, a bundle of nerves leaving too.

his lips ghost against yours, waiting to see if you’d pull back or say you’re crossing a line. you don’t dare stop him. you feel his lips curve slightly; he’s smirking against you. before it grows anymore, his lips connect with yours, warm and supple and tender. he kisses you like every second is a promise, like he wants the world to know you’ll never be anyone else’s.

and now, you know it’s a promise he’ll never break.

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finnsterus · 4 months ago

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2 orc mates who absolutely obsess over you in the cutest ways.

Hair is a big part of their culture and taking care of eachothers hair is a very intimate thing, certain hair styles can indicate different things like your relationship status. You however, do not know this, you just think your orcs really like playing with your hair and you of course dont mind it because your hair always looks flawless and healthy.

When you first started dating them they competed for your attention, but on their own they came up with a truce, sometimes they share you and sometimes they are allowed to switch with you on certain things, like they take turns on who goes to the store with you or who showers with you (because only two can fit in that shower, especially cuz orcs are huge.) they do preffer doing most things together like cooking, cleaning, social activites, and of course anything involving the bed.

Their favorite way to lay (and only way they accept) is you sandwiched inbetween them on your giant bed. All your blankets have been nicely folded and put away in a closet considering your inbetween two giant furnaces who smother you in their sleep. Their Arms and legs wrapped around you, leaving little skin exposed to the cool air of your room. If you had a blanket over you too you would probably die of heat stroke.

Sometimes they snore and at first it drove you crazy but eventually it actually helped you sleep, like white noise. Their lungs are so big that when they snore the tone is a much deeper sound than a humans, making it less abrasive. You also kinda like the vibrations their chests make against your body, like a little massage.

Every morning you wake up to gentle hands carressing your hips and waist, lazy shapes being drawn over your chubby tummy. When you open your eyes you can always count on seeing 4 loving eyes staring lazily at your disheveled form, your previously neatly braided hair frizzy and lopsided and your eyes squinting from the sunlight that leaks through the blinds. They dont see any of that that though, they see the most beautiful woman with the perfect body and the perfect face and the perfect personality that they have the pleasure of calling theirs.

They do warship you in a way and in the beginning it does make you pretty uncomfortable because your not used to being treated so good, at first it just comes of as overbearing and overprotective, maybe even a little misogynistic. They insist on doing everything for you, wether its something like opening a door or going up stairs. The first time they swooped you up to carry you up the stairs you yelped and yelled at them to put you down, that was the saddest puppy eyes you have ever seen til this day. In time you did learn that it is part of their culture and “courting” ritual, that they only ever had good intentions and you eventually learned to love the princess treatment.

When you get to the stage of intimacy in your relationship you couldnt be happier. No other beings no matter how many there are could ever satisfy you better than them. They learn your body in and out, they know every freckle scar and weak spot. They focus so heavily on you they sometimes forget to even try to cum. They may bicker sometimes but when it comes to you and your body they wholy agree that the only right choice is to do whatever it takes to make you feel as good as they can and they have mastered working together on it. They work in complete synchronization, one working your sensitive clit and sucking your nipples while the other sucks on your neck, pumping his fingers in and out of you at the perfect speed, his fingers curled to hit just the right spot to drive you crazy. Something you really enjoy is how willing they are to explore new things either you, wether its a new position, a new toy, or a new fantasy. They will do anything to make their sweet girl feel good.

#monster fuqqer #monster x reader #monster fucker #smut #orc x reader #orc x human #threes0me #oneshots #cuddles #fantasy #size k!nk #size difference #monster boyfriends #monster boyfriend #monster x human #orc

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fandoms-x-reader · 9 months ago

Text

Feeling Sheepish

Requested By: @deludedprime

Summary: You were a sheep for your exchange year in the Devildom (Season 1) but during your time in the human world, the spell wore off. When Solomon brings you back to the Devildom (Season 2), everyone has a different reaction to your new body. The Seven Demon Brothers & Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon, and Simeon Featuring Luke, Raphael, Mephisto, and Thirteen Word Count: 3,737 Characters are written in chronological order instead of the normal order! Based on Lesson 21-1 & 21-2

Being a sheep in the Devildom wasn’t as bad as it may seem at first glance.

There’s no denying that safety was an issue. After all, you were small and somewhat defenseless if a demon tried to attack you.

But, you didn’t need to use nearly as many resources to take care of yourself. And, on top of that, it was easy to make friends when you looked so adorable and approachable.

Being a sheep also took away the social construct of beauty. There was no way anyone could judge the way you dressed or did your hair because you were simply a sheep.

So, while there was a bit of an adjustment period at first, by the end of your exchange year in the Devildom, you had grown accustomed to being a small creature.

But, as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end, and before you knew it, it was time for you to leave the Devildom.

You were heartbroken to leave your friends - but, you weren’t even sure if they could see the tears you were shedding as a sheep.

And then with a blink of an eye, you were teleported back to the human world and that was the end of it.

Luckily, the spell wore off pretty quickly when you returned to the human world and you had your normal body back.

And whether or not that was what you wanted, you knew it was probably for the best. After all, what considerations were held for you as a sheep in the Devildom, certainly wouldn’t be held in the human world.

You could be shaved bald for your wool or get put on a farm. Or worse. There were some places where sheep was a common cuisine.

Becoming a human once again required yet another adjustment period. You had to relearn how to walk on two feet instead of four. You had to make sure you were dressed properly and that your hair was neat.

Not to mention the fact that you were starving. As a sheep, you ate such small portions. Now, you felt like you had to make up for lost time.

Everyone from the Devildom continued to stay in contact with you, of course. But, all they could hear was your voice. They couldn’t see you.

So they were none the wiser when it came to your sudden transformation. They were completely in the dark.

At least that was the case until one day, Solomon showed up to see you.

Solomon was planning a trip back to the Devildom and he was planning on taking you.

Truth be told, he missed it down there. The memories that he experienced were full of fun and endearing moments. And, he wanted to make some more.

You were typically at the center of those memories, and as such, he couldn’t imagine returning to the Devildom without you.

The two of you had stayed in touch, sending messages here and there and even calling when the time allowed it.

But, it was nothing like before - which is why Solomon decided to surprise you by showing up in person.

He used a tracking spell to find your location and continued to text you to keep up the ruse.

His eyes scanned the area for your little sheep form and he got a bit worried when he couldn’t find you. He was positive he had done the tracking spell right.

That’s when he noticed someone walking and texting - on a D.D.D.

It wasn’t like those were popular in the human world. You could only get them from the Devildom - which meant…

The realization dawned on Solomon that the spell that turned you into a sheep would have worn off by now, and he connected the dots.

He took a brief couple of moments to take in your new appearance. He felt privileged to be the first one to see you in your human form.

Then he approached you and he couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips when you looked into his eyes with soft familiarity in yours.

Solomon would love to whisk you away and spend the day with you. To have some alone time with you before the others stole every second of your time.

But - he was on a mission. He came to you for a reason.

A reason that he didn’t give you much time to ponder over before teleporting the two of you back to the Devildom.

Back to your friends.

Lucifer was stunned when he watched two humans fall through the portal that had opened up in the middle of the assembly room.

He recognized Solomon right away. He wore a smile as he landed on his feet gracefully.

The one Lucifer didn’t recognize was the human who had crash-landed on top of Satan.

From his position, Lucifer could see that they were attractive, but why had Solomon brought them there?

“Whoops. Sorry, about that Y/N. I really should’ve warned you to be careful where you land,” Solomon stated and it all became clear to Lucifer.

You were the human that had stolen all of their hearts. You were the one they had been pining over and longing for since the moment you left the Devildom.

And now you were in your true form.

And your true form seemed to have an even greater effect on the eldest.

“Y/N…?! Solomon…!” were the only two words that came out of Lucifer’s mouth as he was still trying to process everything.

He was trying to hold it together. He was doing what he could to not show any weakness.

He wanted to remain as calm and composed as he normally was, but his eyes refused to listen as they were continuously drawn to you, taking in every inch of your appearance.

And when you finally smiled at him, he knew it was over for him.

“AAAAAH!! Wha…wha…WHA?! Is this really…are you really really…REALLY?!”

Levi was so overwhelmed by the situation that he wasn’t able to form real words.

He felt like his brain was racing at a hundred words a second.

He had just got his friend back - his true friend.

And he was so excited to see you again.

Except it wasn’t the you he had gotten to know over the past year.

Now, you were back in your human body and despite him mostly being excited, he couldn’t help but be intimidated.

Like Lucifer, Levi did his best to not trail his eyes over your new body and when he caught himself doing so, his cheeks turned a bright pink and he mentally scolded himself.

Levi could barely manage to not freak out in your presence when you were a sheep. How was he supposed to do that now that you were a human?

And not just any human, but an attractive one!

Levi’s overthinking could have given him a panic attack on the spot if it weren’t for the fact that he was in front of everyone else.

He just needed to keep reminding himself that you were the same person he had come to know and love.

Maybe then he would still be able to hang out with you despite the fact that your new form made his heart race and made his palms sweaty.

“Y/N, it’s YOU! It’s REALLY YOU!”

Asmo’s excitement showed more than his other brothers’ as they all processed your new form in their own way.

Asmo, for one, was soo ecstatic about the new change in your appearance.

Could you blame him? He was the Avatar of Lust and you just showed up in a new body.

When you were a sheep, you had a personality that could charm anyone, anywhere.

And now you had a body that could do the same.

Asmo’s eyes had a special glint in them as his questions filled his mind.

How smooth was your skin?

Were your lips as soft as they appeared?

Did your hair feel as healthy as it looked?

Asmo got even more excited as he realized now he would be able to do all of the beauty treatments with you and see them in full effect.

There was only so much you could do as a sheep. After all, wool was a lot different from skin.

If he’s caught staring at your new body, Asmo will be shameless about it.

It’s not like he doesn’t have a good reason to stare.

He just couldn’t wait for the student council meeting to be over so they could all take you back to the House of Lamentation.

Asmo wanted every single one of his questions answered, and he couldn’t do that in the middle of the Assembly Hall.

Well…he could, but Lucifer would probably be mad.

Mammon went through a full mood swing.

At first, he was confused because a random human just dropped into the middle of their meeting.

But when Solomon said your name, everything changed for Mammon.

He hadn’t stopped blushing since he realized that the random human was - his human.

Mammon had a hard time trying not to admit his feelings for you when you were a sheep.

But now - now you were a human.

A human that he could hug, kiss, and cuddle if you let him.

He told his mind to stop thinking such thoughts but it would respond by flooding his brain with even more thoughts and images.

He wore a smile the more he looked at you. He had missed you so much.

But, in his true, tsundere fashion, he couldn’t let you catch onto how much he missed you.

“Wait, wh…huh?!...I knew you missed me and all, but THIS is just crazy!”

Mammon thought he did a good job of remaining composed.

He believed he did a good job of hiding the fact that you being there - in this form - was making his head spin and making him weak in the knees.

But when the two of you locked eyes, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to keep his charade up for much longer.

You were his weakness as a sheep, now you were his kryptonite.

“Y/N…”

Satan was trying to analyze the situation.

You fell on top of him when you came out of the portal and he was completely blindsided by the contact.

So he was trying to still gather his bearings while his brothers spoke.

When he finally did manage to get back to his feet, Satan asked, “Do you want to tell me why you just appeared out of thin air and landed on my head?”

But as Satan faced you to ask that question, he took in your appearance and a small blush coated his cheeks.

Suddenly, he was happy that you landed on him. Thankful even.

He had noticed that when you landed on him, you were definitely bigger than a little sheep.

But he didn’t expect this.

He couldn’t imagine if you would have landed on one of his other brothers, especially Lucifer.

The thought alone threatened to spark his wrath.

Satan let his eyes trail down you, studying your new body as if it were a new piece of information he was learning.

And he had never been so excited to learn.

This was a subject he would happily study in depth if you allowed him to.

For now, Satan settled on helping you to your feet, your hand feeling much softer and warmer than the hoof that he was used to feeling.

And as you stood close to him, his heart skipped a beat.

He knew that everyone was going to be in deep trouble now that you had gotten your true form back.

“How about that! Y/N, it’s really you!!”

Diavolo had a boyish grin on his face as he spoke to you. He had missed you just as much as the brothers had, whether he showed it as much as they did or not.

He knew that the spell that turned you into a sheep must have worn off by now.

But, still, it was a surprise to see you in your human body.

He had to admit - you were quite the head-turner.

A twinge of fear set into Diavolo as he questioned how you ended up in the Devildom again.

“Wait, you didn’t perform some sort of unsavory ritual to cast your soul down here, did you?! You better not have!”

When you shook your head no, Diavolo let out a breath of relief, knowing that you were okay.

“I can’t believe you’re actually back here with us again!” he added, his smile returning.

Diavolo could see how good you were for his kingdom.

He could see the way you changed things for the better, and he could see how negative things were without you.

Your presence brought a light to their lives that he had been missing.

And that light shone even brighter in your real body.

Diavolo would be lying if he said he didn’t find you attractive. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t been sneaking glances this entire time.

But he had to keep his composure in front of everyone.

When the two of you were alone though - and he would make sure that you had some alone time - that’s when he would let his true feelings show.

“Yes. This really is quite the happy surprise. It’s good to see you again, Y/N.”

Barbatos was as professional as ever, but you could see his eyes sparkling just a bit more than usual and his smile reaching just a little further.

Like Diavolo, Barbatos knew that the spell would have worn off by now.

But, it wasn’t something that was talked about.

It wasn’t a typical topic of conversation and because of that, it was easy to forget that the next time any of them would see you, you wouldn’t be a sheep.

Barbatos was pleasantly surprised.

He had seen your human form once before - the details of which he won’t disclose.

But, seeing you in your human body after he had gotten to know you was completely different.

It elevated his opinion of you and made him believe you really were the most attractive creature he had met.

No other human, demon, or angel had made his heart race the way you did.

Barbatos had taken a backseat during your first year in the Devildom.

He allowed you to make connections with the others first.

But, now, he was excited for his turn.

There were a lot more things he could teach you and bond with you over now that you had your human body back and he was going to take advantage of each of those things.

Belphie had been doing his best to not fall asleep in the student council meeting.

The last time he did, Lucifer caught and punished him with a whole lot of work and Belphie did not want a repeat of that.

So, he was thankful when the portal opened up, providing a necessary distraction from the boring events that were taking place.

When he saw Solomon fall through the portal, Belphie perked up a bit, curious as to what the mysterious sorcerer had planned this time.

He noticed another human had fallen on top of his older brother and bit back a chuckle at the scene.

When Solomon stated your name, Belphie’s blood ran cold as he began to process the shock.

Was that really you…in that body?!

Belphie had a hundred things to say and to ask. But, he couldn’t get a word in between everyone else, so he quietly took in everything about you.

Your voice was the same and you acted the same. It really was you.

Belphie couldn’t help but wonder if it would be more fun to cuddle you now.

He would miss the softness of your wool, but would you be warmer now? Or more comfortable to lay on top of?

Belphie was pulled from his thoughts when he noticed you being bombarded with questions of why you were there and he finally decided to speak up.

“Listen, I am curious to know why you’re here. But before we get into that, are you going to be staying for a while? Because if so, you’ll be staying at the House of Lamentation, right? Oh, but wait…I bet your room’s covered in dust…”

“No problem, Y/N can just sleep in our room.”

Like Belphie, Beel had remained silent until then.

He had been happily munching on a snack, paying the bare minimum of attention to Diavolo during the meeting as he ate.

But he hadn’t been able to take another bite since you and Solomon fell through the portal.

Was that what you looked like on a normal basis? Why didn’t you tell him?

He knew that you were a human that had been placed under a sheep transformation spell, but his imagination never could have come up with the beauty you exuded.

You were on a different level than others and he couldn’t take his eyes away from you.

He noticed his other brothers were having the same trouble looking away, and Beel suddenly felt a twinge of jealousy.

You were in your own body now and part of him wished he was the only one who was able to see it.

Well…it was okay if Belphie saw you like this too.

But, the others were looking at you with a look of lust in their eyes and Beel wanted to sweep you into his arms and keep you from them.

Which is why he jumped at the opportunity to offer his and Belphie’s room to you.

He couldn’t imagine you staying with one of his other brothers after seeing the look in their eyes.

Surely, something would happen if you did and Beel wanted to burn that imagery out of his mind.

Simeon had been in contact with the others in the Devildom and when he found out that you had returned, he couldn’t help but feel like he was missing out.

The demons weren’t the only ones who missed seeing you and talking to you.

He felt like he was missing out even more when they told him that you were back in your human form.

Simeon could only imagine what you looked like. What your hair color was, whether you were tall or short, and what kind of clothes you liked to wear?

That possibilities were driving Simeon crazy and before he knew it, he was finding some way to bring you to the Celestial Realm so that he could see you.

He was beyond happy and excited when you agreed to go, and he paced nervously by the gates as he waited for your arrival.

When the gates finally did open, revealing you and Solomon, Simeon felt his breath leave his body.

He always joked about you being an angel based on the things you did, but now you looked like one.

Simeon could write an entire book on how ethereal and stunning you were.

He did his best to remind himself that he was an angel and shouldn’t be entertaining any thoughts that the demons surely had.

But - you were the first human he had ever met that elicited those ideas from him.

He wasn’t sure how much time he had with you - but he knew that he had to make the most of it.

One of the benefits of being a bit more uncultured and younger than everyone else was that someone’s form didn’t have the same implications for him.

LUKE

Luke had heard from Simeon that you were in your human body, but he didn’t think too much of it.

It didn’t matter if you were a human, a sheep, or anything else. You were still the friend that he came to know and love and want to protect.

Luke had been so excited to show you around the Celestial Realm that he didn’t waste a moment on taking in your new appearance.

Raphael had caught a glimpse of you while you were in the Celestial Realm.

In fact, you would have believed he didn’t notice if it hadn’t been for the fact that you were now bigger than him and did things that you couldn’t do as a sheep.

RAPHAEL

He knew that Simeon and Luke had been excited to see you, so he didn’t dare take your time like they did.

But he saw you chasing after Luke and it made him stop in his tracks as he couldn’t help but stare at you.

He may not have understood your appeal as a sheep. But, seeing you now, he could understand why exactly you had everyone wrapped around your finger.

Mephisto was a bit slow to realize who you were.

And if he wasn’t careful he was sure that someday he may find himself in the same position as the others.

MEPHISTO

He had seen you walking around the Devildom with the others and couldn’t help but wonder who you were and why Diavolo and the others were so close to you.

He had to admit that you were rather attractive, but surely your looks couldn’t be the only reason they were drawn to you.

It wasn’t until one of them said your name while walking by Mephisto that all of the dots connected in his head.

And he wore a small blush as he realized the one he had been admiring from afar was none other than the human exchange student.

The news didn’t deter him though. Instead, it enticed him.

Your new body enticed him.

Thirteen was the last to find out about your new form.

He would have to make himself more useful to Diavolo so that he could find a way to grow closer to you.

THIRTEEN

Like Luke, your body didn’t really make much of a difference to her. After all, she was mostly interested in looking at your soul, and that didn’t change whether you were sheep or human.

But, seeing you for the first time still surprised her. You didn’t look anything like she would have expected - in a good way.

Surely, you would be more useful in helping her make traps in this form.

And she had to admit you were pleasing to look at…

Maybe this was a good thing?

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