#and do think the feathers are better (albeit a bit dark)

[ciphers-fr]

you ever think about stuff like the Windbound Plumage on Bogsneaks/ Obelisks vs. all the other breeds

like...

[adobe-outdesign]

Have you reviewed the staraptor line?

Starly is, unsurprisingly, based off of a starling. If you're like me and are wondering why it's not black and iridescent, it's because it's based off the white-cheeked starling rather than the American starling:

To its credit though, Starly isn't too literal of a starling—you can see the resemblance, but the little feather flip at the back of the head and the specific patterning aren't an identical match to the actual bird. It's still fairly plain, but it at least has a somewhat original design.

Visually, I like the silly eyes and the neutral colors look fine. I'm not big on the spot on the chest as it doesn't quite match anything else in the design, but otherwise its fine albeit bland.

Staravia is one of those middle evos that's a direct transition of the other two stages with nothing unique going it, other than maybe a slightly even sillier expression and a bigger feather flip. You honestly could've dropped this stage entirely and not lost anything.

My suggestion would've been that, because Staraptor gains red accents, you could work some red into a different part of this design—maybe on the tail feathers or something. It's not like it would've made a huge difference, but it at least would've given it something original.

There are a lot of songbirds in Pokemon that evolve into birds of prey, and Staraptor is one of them. To its credit, I do find it to be more memorable than either of the previous stages—mostly because it has that absolutely ridiculous ahoge/pompadour thing going on. Silly and kind of edgy? Sure. But it is the one thing that really sticks out in this line, and the most memorable part of it.

Visually, I do like most of what's going on here. The head area is particularly appealing, with some swishy V shapes around the eyes that all lead into a single point and then flow down into a scalloped breast pattern. I do think the tail could've used some white to balance things—maybe V shapes after the dark brown parts—but it's a pretty good-looking bird.

However, I do think the pompadour throws things a bit, as it flows forward when everything else on the head flows back (not helped by the official art, which doesn't have it lined up correctly with the back feathers—in reality, they're attached, as shown in its back sprite).

It probably would be objectively better without it, but once again, it's the most memorable part of this line. I think a simple fix would've been to have it going backwards instead, which would keep the flow better. Most other things with the design I like, it's just this one element that throws me.

Overall, the first stage is cute but bland and the second is completely pointless, but the third is pretty decent as far as early route birds go.

[powdermelonkeg]

Tears of the Kingdom: The Final Analysis

Part 11

Part 10 here

A monster chases Link in Skyrule, with a glowing purple mouth and eyes. It splashes through the otherwise-rock-solid ground as if it's mud.

Blue sparks are still flying around the area, and there's a block of luminous stone up at the top of this isle over here.

And the lower part of this island doesn't have the blocky, dirty look the golden forest isles have. A sky dungeon? The City in the Sky from the very beginning of the trailer seems a likely candidate.

This thing looks about as big compared to Link as a guardian, and it burrows back into the ground just as easily as it emerged.

I backed up a few frames to get a better look at it—it has fins along its sides, and doesn't appear to have any feet to walk around with. Defeating it means you'll need to draw it out of the ground and stun it, just like a molduga.

The next shot has Link and Tulin diving alongside each other. Tulin carries a Swallow Bow.

This is important for when we see him later.

At last, we get to Mystery Girl. Lovely, sweet Mystery Girl. At first glance, I thought she was Zelda, however, let's do a quick comparison:

Here we have Zelda in the same position, so we can minimize any POV differences.

Mystery Girl's ears are much longer, and lack any kiknd of curve to their edge.

They're much more like Skyward Sword Zelda, in that regard.

Mystery Girl's eyes, while the same color, are more narrow and slightly more angular along their lower and inner edges. Her eyebrows are thinner, and her lashes are longer.

Her nose is much more aquiline than Zelda's turned-up button nose.

This is more clearly seen from the back of the Japanese TotK download card, if you'll forgive the low quality.

And, in regards to TotK Zel's design:

Zel has one tear while Mystery Girl has four.

She lacks any sort of markings on her neck.

As well as on her right shoulder.

And while they both appear to be carrying the same tear in its upright position, they have different necklaces holding them in place. In short; I think everything lines up for these two to be different, albeit related characters.

Moving on, the tear glows as Mystery Girl powers up her beam. It's powering up, if not outright causing, the light magic that follows. However, that same glow looks very similar to the one we saw earlier.

It's the same shade of yellow, with the same particle effects surrounding it.

And then this bit here-

Looks both like Hylia's crest, and like the crest on the front of the Spirit Tracks train.

In favor of Hylia, it has a similar angle to its feathers, as well as a detached central diamond-like piece. However, the Spirit Tracks emblem has two feathers on either side, plus an inverted triangle at its top.

When she casts her beam, we can see the white stone of the structure she's standing on, with some pine trees in the back.

Partnering that with the moldugas she blasts into oblivion, we can pretty safely say that she stands just in the cold zone of the Gerudo Highlands.

And her beam blasts FAR. Look how high it goes into the distance there!

You can only barely see it among the dark pixels, but that's the cliff edge. That's how high up and far away she is. This isn't just fighting off monsters, this is a show of sheer power.

Also, take a look at this rock here. That's not Gerudo sandstone. Are the moldugas trying to leave the desert?

We next see Riju pulling off Urbosa's Fury. She spins around, carrying Urbosa's own blades, then-

BAM. Lightning.

Out of images again, Part 12 coming up!

Edit: Part 12!

[lesbianfakir]

this may be none helpful i fear but i would like to say thank you for getting me out of my art block tongiht, albeit thru yours(;-;)!! your post about perfectionism made me go "oh i do that... i should stop" and put out a piece i may or may not hate tmrw about the beloved ballerina show... so basically thank u for existing and posting, you made a tangible difference in my life tonight and im better for it :^)

Hi thank you!! This is such a sweet ask and it really did make me feel better!!

Perfectionism is a bitch. It’s easy to recognize but hard to reel in. I’m so glad that hearing about someone else’s experiences with it was enough to inspire you to fight back. I always think about how it’s extra hard to make things when you have perfectionism because you have to do all the regular work of making the thing and then you have to fight off your brain telling you it’s not good enough and you should just quit the entire time. And that takes real energy to get through!! All of that to say I’m super proud of you, even if you’re not happy with the finished product, even if you only were able to work on it for a little bit. I’m proud of you because you said you know what? This voice in my head IS bullshit and I’m gonna fight it. And that takes real courage.

Anyways I was super curious and I went through your art tag and oh my god!!!!! The roleswap au with raven duck and fakir is gorgeous!!!!!!! The way you render the raven feathers + light catching on the dark fabric is absolutely beautiful. Anyways please fight off that mean voice in your head because I want to see what you made. If you do end up posting pls send it to me!!

[redrickspicnic]

Ta’yir: If And When We Rise Again

(Here’s the full first chapter of the dumb little fantasy story I’m trying to write. Feedback / criticism is appreciated. Thank you for reading you if you.

Chapter One

“I never met somebody like you before.”

Those were the boy’s first words to the other child who stood in front of him. Albeit a bit blunt, the statement rung true. No Farl boy had ever lived in the village on the northeastern end of Isyorik. Not until now. The boy who had spoke those words was one of Horaine descent; a human. He had brownish-black hair, pale skin, and eyes as green as the grass of the hill his home was built upon. The Farl boy he’d just spoken to was vastly different.

Farl, or ‘beast-men,’ were thought to be animals who gained human intelligence- typically goats, cows, and sheep. This small Farl boy looked bull-like, two scrawny yet firm cow-hided legs with hooves to support a fluffy torso, fuzzy arms with almost normal hands, and finally the head of a young calf. He hadn’t even started to grow his horns yet. He had these deep brown, almost sad eyes.

The Farl boy and the Horaine stood staring at each other for a few moments before the Horaine offered his hand to shake the calf’s, “My name is Adol.” he had said, almost blankly.

The Farl boy was quiet for a few moments, gazing at Adol’s hand. He reached out to shake it, taking grasp, “My name is Y’noul.” he said so quietly, almost whispered.

Adol smiled, “It’s nice to meet you. Do you want to meet my friends?”

Y’noul thought for a moment, “I’d love to.” he answered.

It was then that Adol let go of Y’noul’s cow-hide hand and lead him away from the small path they had met, leading him to the woods that stood just outside the small village’s limits. The trees were tall, nearly poking holes in the sky- or at least they seemed. Birds flew overhead, small beaked and fast. Adol lead him to a fallen down tree which acted as the wall to a small dugout. In the dugout were two more young boys.

One was busy whittling, using a small knife to cut the end of a stick into a fine point. He had reddish brown hair and fine blue eyes. There sat another boy on a rock, with blonde hair and bluish skin with gray eyes, like the ends of a bird’s feather. The red haired boy, albeit looking mostly Horaine, was a D’Har- a dwarf. The thick accent and the slight muscularity at such a young age gave it away. The second boy, the bluish skinned one, was a D’Kharash, a dark elf. The pointed ears and tinged skin was the most eye-catching signifier.

Adol clapped twice, getting the two boy’s attention. “Togri, Bismorr- this is Y’noul.” he called out.

The first boy to step forward was Togri, the boy with the red hair. He shook Y’noul’s’ hand, saying, “Lovely to meet ya.” The second boy was Bismorr, the boy with the blonde hair and blue-tinged skin. “Hello.” was all he said as he shook the calf-boy’s hand.

They all stood for a moment in silence, Togri and Bismorr staring at Y’noul, questions filling their heads. Togri was the first to speak.

“So, you’re one of those beastfolk, huh?” he said.

Bismorr gave a light slap to the back of Togri’s head, “Don’t call him that, he’s no beast! My dad has biology books, he’s just like you and me, he’s a Farl.”

Togri rubbed the back of his head, muttering a quick apology before Y’noul spoke up, “It’s okay. You didn’t mean it.” he looked to Bismorr, mouthing a quick ‘thank you.’ He then looked to Adol, “So… what did you bring me here for?”

Adol’s eyes shined, and he stood up on the rock that Bismorr sat upon a mere minute before. “I’m glad you asked-“ he said with anticipation, “-guess what I found that way?” he’d pointed to behind himself, up and past the dugout.

“A witch?” Togri asked, almost excitedly.

“An abandoned library?” Bismorr added.

Y’noul stayed silent, listening. “Even better.” Adol added. “I think- hear me out, I think I found a Xeyir temple!”

Bismorr and Togri’s jaws dropped in surprise whilst Y’noul stood confused. He spoke up, “What’s a Xeyir?”

The three other boys looked to him for a moment, then Togri and Adol’s heads turned to Bismorr, letting him explain. “The Xeyir-“ Bismorr started, “-were an ancient race thousands of years ago! My dad has so many books about them.” Bismorr then turned to Adol, “Are you sure this is a Xeyir temple?”

Adol nodded excitedly, “Yeah! It’s all sunken and cobwebby and old, we’re gonna need a torch or something.”

Togri spoke up, “I think I know ‘ow to make one. Me dad ‘old me ‘bout tree sap, he says it’s flam-something.”

“Flammable.” Bismorr corrects, “It’s flammable, and that’s a good idea.”

Bismorr grabbed the stick that Togri was whittling out of his hand and brought it to the fallen tree. Pulling back some bark, he had uncovered a fair amount of tree sap. He sticks the pointed end of the stick into it, and holding the handle, spins it slowly, wrapping the end in sap.

Bismorr pulls away, “Now we need something else at the end to act as fuel.” he said adamantly, “Cloth or paper would work.”

The boys looks around themselves for something flammable. Togri looked down at his legs, seeing his left ripped pant leg. With a cut of a knife and a tug, it comes off easy- a nice piece of cloth. “Here-“ he says, handing it to Bismorr, “-for the torch.”

Bismorr laughs a bit, taking the cloth. “Thank you Tog. A bit weird but it’ll work.” Bismorr then wrapped the cloth around the end of the stick and covered it in a bit more sap.

“Now,” Bismorr announced, “We’ll need a way to light it. Flint will work.”

Y’noul, who more or less watched in silence the whole time, held out something- a necklace, a piece of flint and iron hanging at the end. Bismorr stared in confusion for a moment before nodded, “That’ll do. You should do the honors.'' He handed the unlit torch to Y’noul.

Adol spoke up, “We should light it once we get to the temple, doing it here will waste it.”

The three other boys nodded. Adol climbed out of the dugout and stood on the edge, waiting for the rest of the boys to climb up as well. Once they were all out, he led them deeper into the woods, whistling.

The boys walked in silence for a while, Adol in front, Y’noul after him, and Bismorr and Togri behind the calf-boy. Y’noul held the torch with both palms, almost as if he was afraid of letting go. Bismorr with a book to his chest. Togri with his small whittling knife at the ready, and Adol with his head up high. They were four little adventurers.

Eventually, Adol crouched, urging the three others to do the same. He spread part of a group of bushes and walked through, letting the others move in behind himself. There, in a clearing, half sunken into the dirt and rock, was quite the sight; a mossy, yellowish stone building. An entrance wide open, beckoning the brave and courageous to walk through its aged halls. The four boys stood up, staring for a moment. Bismorr was the first to speak.

“Creepy.” he had muttered.

Then followed Togri, “Amazing.” he uttered.

Then followed Y’noul, “Beautiful.” he had whispered.

Then, lastly, Adol, “Ancient.” he had spoke.

They stood in awe of the great old temple. Adol marched forward, then standing outside of its entrance. “Are we gonna stand here or are we gonna explore?”

Bismorr, Togri, and Y’noul looked to each other before stepping forward to the dark entrance. Y’noul took off his necklace whilst Adol held the torch. Y’noul clicked the stones together, creating a large spark. After a few tries the torch was set alight, a bright orange flame glowing at the end. Adol lifted it high and walked into the temple, the three others following behind.

The boys walked amongst the ruined stone pathways in awe of what laid around them. Urns made of clay, statues of strange insect-like figures, ancient text scrawled upon walls. Furniture sat torn and broken, some made of marble, some made of old, nearly petrified wood. There was no noise except for the boy’s breaths and whispers and footsteps.

Bismorr spoke up, “M-my dad told me-“ his voice was shaky with small fears, “He told me that the Xeyir w-were masters of Xeros… that they made traps in their t-temples for outsiders.”

Adol stopped walking forward, signaling the rest to do the same. He brought the torch forward, illuminating the path and burning out any cobwebs that laid before them.

“Why didn’t you mention this earlier?” he whispered.

All Bismorr could offer as an answer was a shrug. Adol turned his head back to the hallway in front of them, realizing that this place was, potentially, extremely dangerous. He took a cautious step forward, looking down at his feet for any out-of-place looking stones, the sides for falling axes and above for boulders just waiting to drop onto them. He took a breath and kept moving, Togri, Y’noul, and Bismorr following.

The four moved throughout the grand hallway as it shrunk a bit, now out of the entrance room and into the temple proper. Every door to their sides seeming blocked or caved in. That was when the hallway took a turn, and they saw something so far estranged from what their small view had been used to.

The room was large, a pedestal in the middle. The roof was open, and whilst still caked in dust and dirt and vines, sunlight shone through onto the pedestal. Sat atop that stone block sat an amulet, not made of any fine jewel or gem, but made of rock. A piece of twine went through a hole at the top, and it pointed down, tooth-like. It had carvings, shapes and lines, depth and lack-of, it was, despite being so old and unrefined or polished, quite a sight. The room itself had carvings- more bug-like-men, animals and trees and shapes, the entire room was one big art piece with the stone amulet in the middle as the center.

The three boys stood at the entrance of the great hall, gazing at the pedestal in the middle, the necklace sat atop it. They stood a few moments more, taking in the beauty of the room.

Y’noul stepped forward, moving towards the altar. Bismorr quickly followed after, muttering as quick as he stepped, “Hey- wait, Y’noul, that isn’t a good idea, hey, wait up!”

Adol and Togri ran after the two of them, Adol dropping the torch- the flame dying out upon hitting the floor. Y’noul stopped at the front of the altar, gazing upon the necklace. Adol reached out to grab the necklace, Y’noul, with some slight force, gripped Adol’s wrist.

“I don’t think it’s ours to take.” Y’noul spoke.

Adol sputtered, “But- I mean- look at it! We could give it to Bismorr’s dad! He would love to take a look at this!”

Bismorr nodded and Togri muttered some sort of agreement. Y’noul looked back to the necklace, then to Adol, “We aren’t stealing, right?”

Adol, Togri, and Bismorr all shook their heads ‘no.’ Bismorr spoke up, “It would be stealing if the owners were here, but assuming this was made by the Xeyir, they’ve been gone for thousands of years.”

Y’noul nodded and let go of Adol’s wrist. Adol, very carefully, brought his fingertips to the twine that the rock was hung off of, and even more carefully, lifted it up. He brought it towards himself and off the pedestal- and out of the light. Once it was out the light of the sun, there was the noise of a click.

The boys stood dead still. Even their breaths stopped. They turned their heads slightly and saw as the pedestal began sinking into the ground, the dirt and rock shaking off of it. Even the roof shook. They saw that one of the great pillars supporting the roof also lowered itself, causing a great instability. The room was going to collapse.

Adol quickly ran to the front of the room, calling out to the other three, “C’mon! Get movin’!” The other three boys wasted no time catching up. The roof above where the pillar sank soon fell, causing a mass of dust and rubble and dirt to fill up the space. The boys turned away from the collapsing room, reentering the hallway they had entered the room from. The stones now looser underneath their feet- and one young boy’s hooves. A cloud of dust and dirt and stone followed behind the four.

They turned the corner of the hallway- Adol tripped, dropping the necklace, and continued to run. Bismorr turned on his heel, looking at the necklace. He ran back for it. Y’noul stopped, noticing Bismorr ran back and called out, “Hey, Bismorr went back!”

Adol and Togri turned. Adol sighed and Togri muttered curse words in D’Hon. They both ran back for Bismorr. Bismorr took hold of the necklace, grasping the rock at the end of the twine in a tight fist. He turned and ran back towards their entrance, their way of escape. Y’noul, Togri, and Adol gave him a push forward, and then continued to follow him. The rubble and cloud just at their feet, almost threatening to trap them within the temple forever.

The boys saw the light to the entrance, the urns and sculptures and carvings and art along the way, no more than just stone and destroyed clay as they passed. The light appeared closer, glowing with an almost angelic appearance. One last step, and then a jump. They were out.

The four boys crashed to the dirt and grass of the clearing that laid in front of the aged temple’s entrance. Of course that entrance was no more- the beckoning archway crashing down with a thud and dust. The four boys coughed and wiped their faces. The dust settled, falling away or going with the wind. They coughed some more, looking at each other. Tired, dirty, with heavy breathing.

That’s when Y’noul begin to laugh. He laughed heartily, with excitement and amazement. Soon, Togri began laughing too, much deeper and accented. Then Bismorr, and finally Adol.

Four boys, with a taste of adventure, all laughing heartily and happily after a successful trip. They stood up, dusting themselves off. Bismorr kept laughing until he opened his hand that held the amulet and frowned.

“Darn,” he spoke with frustration, “it broke.”

They all fell silent and looked into his hand. The stone had broken off of the twine, but, strangely enough, it had broken up into fourths.

Adol stared at Bismorr’s palm for a moment before taking a piece of the broken stone amulet, holding it up. “We could all take a piece.” he remarked, “It’s basically useless now- Bismorr’s dad can’t study something that’s broken.”

The three other boys nodded, all taking a piece of the stone amulet. They stared at their own pieces for a moment. Y’noul spoke up, “Maybe this is a sign, like fate or something.”

Bismorr shook his head, “Fate ain’t real. Just a coincidence.”

“-or luck.” Togri added.

Adol listened quietly before speaking, “Maybe it isn’t any of those. Doesn’t matter, we all got a piece.” Adol put the stone amulet piece into his pocket. “We’ll have to explore more- if there was this temple here, then who knows what else is around here!”

Togri and Bismorr agreed. Y’noul spoke, “Can I explore with you guys?”

“Of course!” Adol exclaimed.

“I don’t see why not!” Togri announced.

“We’d be happy to have you!” Bismorr added.

Y’noul smiled, then attached his own piece to the necklace around his neck, right next to the flint and iron he had used to light the torch.

The three others pocketed their pieces, and then laughed once more. They went through the bushes and made their way to the dugout and joked and hollered and cheered until the sun set and they had to return home. They all remained friends, and laughed and explored and got in trouble together.

[huenjin]

the devil’s tango.

summary — and when your demon boyfriend's best friends ruin your valentine's day plans with said demon boyfriend by lighting up a restaurant in flames, they make sure to apologise well. or, in which jisung, changbin and chan show you all the ways a devil can fuck a woman.

pairing — 3racha x reader

genre — smut | demons!au

ratings — 18+

word count — 14.4k words

warnings — mentions of flame, indications of objectification, mentions of themes of afterlife, heaven and hell | smut specifications under the cut

note — the way this was written only thanks to @chaangbin​ and her sprinto discord thing pwp and is totally inspired from this one nsfw asmr i chanced upon on reddit. happy reading and sinning, babes.

smut warnings —

i. groping, dirty talk, objectification, car sex, marking, slight temperature play, thigh riding, dirty talk, slight blood play (jisung gets a slight rush !!), grinding, fingering, sir kink, nipple play, clitoral stimulation, vaginal stimulation, ruined orgasm;

ii. changbin calls you baby girl (!!), choking, cunnilingus, dirty talk, dumbification (changbin talks a loooot dirty, heads up !!) nipple play, breast play, pain kink, spitting, marking, so so so much marking omfg, intercrural sex, clitoral stimulation, unprotected sex (better safe than anything else irl okay?), squirting, overstimulation, reader slips into subspace, changbin's kinda hard on the reader; chan bring you back from subspace because he's protective like that !!!

iii. tattooed!chan — chan has this huge dark feathered wing tattoo in his back omf and the reader has a tattoo kink, of sorts— dick piercing!chan, tongue piercing!chan, so !! much !! making !! out !!, calls you princess throughout the story because you are one, nipple play, breast play, daddy kink, grinding, spanking, pain kink, degradation (but chan like gives reader heads up in such a nice way because chan best boy !!), teasing cause chan won't give it to you just like that !!!, so much begging, pussy slapping, clitoral stimulation, cunnilingus, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, penetration, unprotected sex (wrap it before you snap it!), bulge kink, creampie, slight after care.

Chan thinks Valentine's Day is a marketing scheme by the very commercial, capitalistic world. 

Not that his devilish self cared when he could have all the luxuries in the world in his hand by the very thought of it. Chan doesn't care even more because you, his girlfriend, loved Valentine's Day more than anything in this world, second only to your love for him. If anything, you loved Valentine's Day this much because of him.

And that is exactly why he is driving down the neat lane to this newly opened restaurant, right across the town, that you have been hyping up for months now. His fingers wrap around the steering wheel, shoes pressed flat against the gas as his other hand lies gently on your exposed thigh, thanks to your little black skirt riding up to his delight.

"Thank you for doing this," you mumble, your right hand shifting to place itself on top of his hand and grip at it softly. "You know, even after you hate all the couples out there, ever to exist."

Chan laughs, a hearty one in fact. His thumb rubs against the palmar side of your hand — one of the many affectionate things your devil does for you, albeit all the times he reminds you he is second to Lucifer himself.

"I don't hate them all." Lie. Chan knows that's an obvious lie and so do you. You click your tongue and your boyfriend bites his lower lip in a sheepish action, momentarily glancing at you before bringing his attention back on the road. "I like us. We make such a power couple. If anything, we should be the only couple to exist. Valentine's Day should exist for only one couple and that should be us."

Raising your eyebrows before letting it fall, face softening up instantly as you gaze at your boyfriend's side profile, you coo, "Aw. I see finally that there are things the devil too doesn't get at his will."

"You were one amongst them," Chan sniggers, his hand slowly trailing upwards as they shift from underneath your hand's grip. "But look where we are now."

Your breath hitches as his fingers slightly trace parallel lines as they move upwards and your eyelids flutter a bit. The pads of his fingers are hot against the coldness of your skin and the temperature difference is great enough to raise goosebumps on them.

"Chan." It's a whisper. Almost as if a great amount of determination is required for you to make this decision to turn him down. "You are driving. Plus, let's not ruin the night already. You've booked us a nice table in this amazing restaurant on this beautiful night."

"But I could make it even better." Chan licks his lower lip as he presses on the brakes, the heavy traffic stopping him from proceeding further. His hand is now completely underneath your skirt, short enough to his pleasure, fingers edging so close to your panties that your head involuntarily shifts back and your lips part.

You have been dating him for months now and every single time he touches you, you feel like a starved woman craving for every drop of his affection, desiring every part of him. Chan has been more than willing to comply, however. Your body reacts to his touches and his kisses like you are on heat and every time your boyfriend points it out, you blame it on his extraterrestrial, hellish skills; that he had you in his control.

Little do you know that it is the other way round. That Chan chooses to stay in the mortal world for you, to be with you. That he knows he will have to part with you one day when you shift over to the other side and maybe you could have sinned enough to be with him in the other world too. However, Chan knows how much God loves playing his cards and for that, he'll seize every single moment he gets with you.

All because he loves you. He is in love with you. 

Chan realises this a few weeks back. Of course, he feels the weird thing humans call butterflies when you are so understanding of him being hell's very spawn. However, it is when you cook dinner for him as you wait for him to come, or how you ask him about his day and listen ardently that he realises: hell could never be worthy enough to have someone as beautiful as you. He shouldn't deserve you — fuck, the very act of him laying his filthy eyes on you should have sent your guardian angel into a frenzy but you chose him. You chose to be with him and for that, he'd mayhaps, thank that lousy old God up in the heavens. 

"Dinner first," you strictly say. You remove his hand from underneath your skirt, wrapping your hand around his as you hold it up to kiss his knuckles. "When we get back home, I promise. In fact, I'll be the one to jump at you as soon as we reach the doorsteps." Chan laughs, mumbling, "Ah, my baby girl, my princess," under his breath and turns to look at the signal that has changed to green. He presses on the gas, speeding to reach the place on time as per reservations. 

Having Chan's hand in yours roots you in confidence from your biggest fear deep down — that he would fade away from your life one day and worse, he'd take away the memories with him to rid you of the pain from his absence. His calloused hand grips onto yours and you hold it close to your chest, shutting your eyes for a minute because this is what Valentine's Day is all about for you. Bang Chan and everything your devil of a boyfriend is. He has shown you both heaven and hell and even though you did not believe in the afterlife, you do not mind going to hell, especially not if he is there with you. 

"Why is there smoke up in the air?" Chan asks himself in absolute confusion as he takes the right on the road to the restaurant. Upon finding a neat parking spot about a hundred meters away from the restaurant, he gets out of the car, rushing to your side to open the door for you like a true gentleman. 

"Why, thank you!" You giggle, hand slapping right across your lips at the unpleasant sound that leaves your mouth and Chan smiles so widely at you, almost as if he is looking at his whole world right before him. You get out of the car and Chan closes the door right behind you.

"You look so damn pretty today, baby," Chan hugs you by the waist temporarily and snuggles into your neck, only to leave a quick kiss against it. You push him slightly and Chan chuckles, raising his right hand, that is not held by you, to protest. "I'm not making a move. We did get dressed well so let's have a nice romantic dinner first and when we get back home—" His voice drops a note lower. "We'll have a hot night and let this Valentine's Day wrap up rightfully as it should."

"And what's the right way, Mr. Hotshot Devil?"

"With my dick wrapped around your sweet little pussy," he smiles, lips extending so wide across his face that your cheeks heat up. He leans closer, pressing his lips against the pinna of your ears as he whispers, "You'll be begging me over and over and I'll treat you like the good little girl you are for me."

Your breath hitches and a flustered broken gasp leaves your lips as your fingers dig into his forearm. Chan's harmonious laughter over having made you a flustered mess rings in your ear till it is cut off by loud screams and foggy vision thanks to dark grey smoke. 

"That's a lot of smoke," you comment worried as your boyfriend takes you by his hand and walks you down the road to the restaurant. He takes small strides to let you walk at ease. "I wonder if something is on— Fuck. The restaurant is in flames. It's on fire. Fuck."

Chan's eyes widen and he stares at the fire long enough to see two figures making their way towards you. Two very familiar faces too hard for him to ever forget, especially because Chan has spent more than a millennium with them. 

"Jisung? Changbin?"

"Do you know them, baby?" You whisper into his ears, hiding slightly behind him as you cower at the magnanimous presence of the two individuals before you. 

"Sometimes I wish I didn't," he rolls his eyes and folds his arms as he looks at the two younger demons in a gaze filled with doubt and suspicion. 

"You lie!" The taller of the two says. "We had ramen together and you know ramen is exactly the way for people to bond."

"That's Jisung," Chan introduces as he slightly brings you forward. Your fingers play with the end of your short skirt, trying to bring it further down as the two men — demons, you presumed — looked at you and almost seemed to be studying you. "And the one by his side is Changbin."

"We've been friends for a while," Jisung informs and judges at Changbin who still continues to stare at you in displeasure. Did one of Chan's friends already not like you? You guess it is normal but deep down you know it hurts. You have always had the innate tendency to make sure that everyone liked you and the very thought of Chan's friends disliking you puts you to this sorrow as much as you hate to agree to it. 

"Stop scaring my girlfriend, Bin," Chan glares back at the shorter of the two before drifting his attention to Jisung and enquiring, "How did this even happen?"

"That's on me. I crashed my car into the restaurant," Jisung rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. Your eyes widen and you look further beyond the two men to see a beautiful red Maserati driven into the restaurant, caught in flames just as the whole building is. 

"The people!" You scream, rushing forward. Chan holds your wrist in worry, holding you back, and you look at your boyfriend with eyebrows furrowed in concern. "They are my people."

Changbin scoffs, mumbling under his breath, "Stupid humans and their weird sense of morality at all the wrong times." Your heart drops at his words and Chan lets go of your hand, only to take a step forward in Changbin's direction, eyes narrowing at the demon. 

Jisung laughs hesitantly, slipping right between the two males and pushing them away. He looks at you and rushes forward to lean close to you. You are taken aback by the sudden invasion of your personal space but something in his eyes holds you fixed, enamored by his whole being. 

"There are no casualties, sweetheart. Don't worry!" 

Jisung leans back soon after, standing firm on his toes, and turns to look at your boyfriend. Smiling as wide as you've seen any devil smile, he prompts, "Since all our Valentine's Day plans got ruined, what if we spent it together?" He glances at you and you look away, eyes catching Changbin's who still looks at you in suspicion. 

"I—" 

"Jisung," Chan warns.

Jisung rushes to Changbin's side. Directing his attention towards you all while nudging the hell out of Changbin's side, he wiggles his eyebrows, "He may seem rude like this but trust me, he's the tsundere kind of lover."

"What the fuck," Changbin mumbles and turns his head away. "I'm not saying anything."

Your boyfriend is very flustered at the very happenings around him. Jisung suggesting a possibility of a wild night, the restaurant going into flames, and his girlfriend, albeit looking scared, positively looking at this whole proposal — maybe it has been too long since he has been away from hell for the mere chaos to fluster him.

Without a word said further to his friends, he pulls you away. You bite your lower lip, nibbling and pulling at the dead skin. Chan quickly takes your hand in his, eyes fixing on yours and staying in silence for a short while till he finally asks, "Are you okay?"

"Can I be honest?"

"Yes, please."

"Are all your friends this hot and a solid mess?"

"Should I be offended?" A soft chuckle leaves his lips when he sees you joke nervously. 

"No, no." You hit his arms, jokingly. You draw circles onto his arm and bring the topic forward finally. "I know I might have looked like I was taken aback — I was — but remember how we had this talk once about bringing people into our sex lives," you gulp, "I think this is a great moment to see if we'd like it in our relationship."

"Are you sure?" Chan's hand frames your face and you lean into it. 

"One hundred percent."

"These are demons, baby," he hesitates. 

"And you're a demon too. Stop stating the obvious, Chan. Plus, I have you."

"Are the two of you done?" Jisung asks loudly. You hold Chan's wrist and drag him towards his friends. Changbin raises an eyebrow at the sudden beam of confidence that radiates from you. 

"We are. I'm Y/N," you finally introduce yourself. "Sorry for being awkward in the beginning—"

"Oh, don't be," Changbin mumbles, gaze still wary of you. "Jisung tends to have that effect on people."

"Hey!"

"Anyhow," Changbin finally smiles tonight. "Thanks to someone," He glares at Jisung, "We lost both our dinner and our car. So do you mind if we travel with you?"

"Oh, no," you clasp your hands together. "We'll give you a ride back to our place. Chan could cook us something," you smile at your boyfriend and he merely shrugs.

"And we can let the night roll into whatever it is, right?" Jisung's gaze is different, almost like he's insinuating a thousand different sex positions in one look. 

"Yes," you say after a long pause and an audible gulp. "We can let the night roll into whatever setting it turns to."

"Lead the way, princess," Jisung's arms move in abduction and you smile, skin wrinkling by your eyes at his chirpy self. You walk forward to the car and Chan slows down his strides to walk with the boys. 

His arms wrap around the shoulders of both the demons and he pulls them closer to sharply whisper. "You fucking hurt her and I'll have both your arses burning in the hottest flames in hell. I swear to Lucifer."

"What if she likes it?" Changbin raises an eyebrow, almost provoking Chan and your boyfriend glares back at him equally, gritting his teeth and almost growling. 

With clenched teeth, he restates, "Keep it tame," and lets go of them.

Chan should know better. Nothing is tame for the men in hell.

Changbin calls shotgun, putting you next to Jisung in the back seat while Chan drives the car.

"This is consensual, right?" Jisung asks again. There is concern lacing his face and Changbin sighs, mumbling, "She has said she wants us more than ten times, Sungie."

"Chan, you're alright with me fucking your girlfriend in the back while you drive?"

Chan's breath hitches, coughs entailing and you smile at how lost he looks for a minute as he turns back in worry, slowing the car down. "In the back or in the back of the car?"

"You never know. Maybe she might like it."

"Don't you dare!"

"Fine," he begrudgingly agrees. 

"As long as she's okay with it. Do not make her uncomfortable at all, guys," Chan sighs and turns back, pressing on the gas and almost taking all his thoughts out on it. You blush, cheeks staining a shade lighter and heat rising up as soon as you feel Jisung edge closer to you. In the front seats, Changbin talks to Chan, catching up on every single thing they have missed out in these years.

In the back seat, however, Jisung has different plans. A whole different plan to break you down into putty in his hands. 

"So, it seems like you are the girl that Chan wouldn't stop talking about and fawning over," Jisung's voice is huskier in the low tone he chooses to speak in to keep the conversation just between the two of you. "Nice to meet you, lovely. I'm Jisung. Now that I see you, I realise what all the fuss is about. You really are breathtaking."

You giggle, "You flatter me. Do all demons sweet talk this well?"

"Only the finest," Jisung winks. His hand wraps around your forearm and he slowly asks again, "It is alright for me to fuck you, right?"

The crudeness of the word in front of not just you but also two other demons leaves you flustered. Jisung pushes your hair strands that have gotten loose and fall to cover your eyes, behind your ears. 

"Yes, it is," you repeat for what you have counted in your head as the eleventh time. "It's totally alright, Jisung."

"Then, can I come closer?" You nod and Jisung edges forward, closer than he already is. "You know how us demons work, right?"

"Uh," you look down at your hands on your skirt. "You get wild every now and then." Jisung hums in approval, cupping your face with his left hand.

"Bingo, you're right!" Jisung grips your face a little stronger than a second before. "We, demons, love to go wild." He scoffs and continues, "Your boyfriend loves to play nice and pretend like he doesn't lose control and has only virtuous thoughts. All a big fucking facade to hide the fact that he just wants to bend you over and fuck you—" Jisung kisses your neck right underneath your face. "—Again and," he kisses your jugular. "Again and again." 

"I however am not. I like to do a lot of things to you."

Jisung bites sharply into your neck, sucking at the skin. The lewd noises resonate in the locked car and you know your boyfriend can hear each moan and each sound that comes from the back seat. The car moves only faster and Jisung's action matches the pace. He lets go of your neck only to crash his lips against yours, sucking in your lower lip as he kisses your hard. His arms snake around your frame and push you against him. 

You moan against his lips. It's volatile, you realise. Jisung's kisses are volatile. One minute they are harsh against your lips, strong enough to bruise them with cuts, and the very next minute, there is nothing softer than his lips or the goosebumps that trail your skin that he touched after untucking your shirt.

His skin is hot against yours, hot enough to raise goosebumps again on your skin. His lips are warmth personified and his grip makes you want to go unhinged 

He pulls back, lips parting and looking sinfully delectable. "It's in moments like these, princess, I realise how different our body temperatures are. How much warmer demons always are compared to humans. It must feel nice to have warm hands over you, doesn't it?" Jisung removes his hand from your bare skin and from underneath your white shirt. You gasp at the lack of contact, your skin feeling irritably cold all over again, and move closer into him.

"What a needy human," Jisung chuckles, and in the very blink of your eyes, he unbuttons your first two ones, exposing your black bra, laced to perfection, to him. "That's a pretty one. You really did go all out for Chan, did you not, princess?"

"I did. I wanted him to fuck me stupid and make me his tonight," you agree boldly and the car jolts to a stop suddenly. You are pushed forward into Jisung's warmth, your half-naked self pressed against Jisung's nice shirt. Changbin chuckles, looking at Chan and you turn to the side to see the traffic. You whisper again, "I still want him to fuck me stupid tonight."

"Oh, you are going to be all of ours tonight. We are going to make you such a slut for demon cock, princess. Make you greedy and desperate for it."

You are in the public. You are on the road, visible for any child or adult to look into your car only to see all the lustful deeds out in the open. You should have felt embarrassed, quivering in nothing but shame. However, all these triggers are for you to get wetter, panties sticking to your core and your grip to tighten on Jisung's arms. 

Jisung's hand moves back to unhook your bra. He lets it fall off your shoulders slightly before taking your left breast in his arms and bringing his face closer to it. He sucks on your left nipple, nipping on the areola around. His hand massages the right breast over the black lace bra and your head lolls forward. Your hand tightens around his shoulder and you desperately crave some friction in your nether regions. 

"Can I sit on your thigh, please?" You beg and Jisung's mouth leaves your nipple only to look up at you. 

"Only if you call me sir."

Jisung has an immaculate grip on your waist as he lifts you slightly, holding you mid-air and not letting you settle down on his thigh until you call him by what he desires to be called.

"Please let me sit on your thigh, sir."

"You're a good girl," and Jisung drops you down on his thigh. You blush at how Jisung calls you a good girl. You like being called names. Be it a good girl or a slut, the words coming out from them right during sex made you feel unique and special. Your skirt rides up and your wet panties are pressed flat against his nice formal pants. He kisses your lips again, this time biting into your lower lip and drawing a bit of the blood. The copper taste does nothing for the demon exactly, besides indulging him in a slight high he could almost get off on. You seethe against him and your hips grind down on his thigh almost unknowingly. Your lips part behind your panties, the two materials underneath and his flexed thigh providing you enough to ease the lust and thirst of wanting to feel more. 

"Does this feel good?" You moan in response and Jisung's eyes sparkle. "Ah, look at the expressions you are making." His hands grip tightly on your hips as he resolves to go back to your breasts and suck on them till the nipples harden for him and the areola swells up. His hands help your hips to move against his thigh quickly, soaking his navy blue pants darker. Your covered clit rubs over and over against his flexed thighs and the moans that leave your lips are loud and unhinged.

"Sir, ah, ah—" Your hands drop to hover your palm over his covered cock that rubs against your outer thigh. "I want more, sir. Fuck, fuck, I want more. Please, sir." And just as you begged, Jisung bites slightly into your breast just when he lets go of your hips and plunges two fingers into your wet lips, pushing the panties and skirt aside slightly. With your pussy filled with his fingers, Jisung continues to suck on your breasts and little kisses and hickeys all over them. 

Your moan is the loudest so far this night in that minute. His fingers are long and bony and they hit your walls and push against them exactly the way you like. Your pain and pleasure senses, both activated, seemed to be mixing signals leaving you with a slow, slow path to euphoria. "You like that, princess? Tell me."

"Your fingers feel so good, sir." You move against his thighs quickly, grinding on it rough as your pussy is stuffed with his fingers. "Sir, sir— Fuck, sir. There." Jisung curves his fingers, the joints by his finger rubbing against your spot, deep inside that has your thighs shivering and your whole body aching for more. He rubs against the spot till you gasp over and over again and he's laughing like the very devil he is.

"Oh my god, you're so wet for me, princess. You are dripping." Jisung quickly stills you on his thighs, his other hand digging into your hips. "I'm going to go a little—" He pulls out slightly before thrusting his fingers back in. 

"Sir, oh my god," your voice pitches higher and Jisung takes the positive signs well. He pushes his fingers back in after pulling them out. His forefinger moves away from the middle all while they are deep inside of you, stretching your walls apart and the sensation rules you up further as you move down, pulling him deeper and making you feel fuller than a second before. His fingers scissors inside of you, enhancing the sensations against your soft wet walls 

"You're so needy, princess. You like that, huh? Does it feel nice to have my fingers wide apart inside of you? Do you like it when I curl them up?" And Jisung curls them, eliciting a loud groan from you and your head dropping into his shoulder as you can feel yourself edge closer. 

He thrusts them faster. The lewd noises from your arousal gushing out and being pushed back in thanks to his fingers is intensified in the small space and your moans are like spice. Jisung sucks on your neck as his fingers hit your spot over and over again till the knot tightens so much that tears well up in your eyes and you pray he pushes you over the boundary. 

"You like my fingers thrusting fast, princess?" You nod and Jisung orders, "Words, princess."

"Yes, sir. I love it. I love it. I love— Ah! Ungh—" 

His thumb brushes finally against your clit and you bite into his shoulder. "Such a good princess. You deserve to cum, don't you? You were such a good girl." Jisung's thumb presses into your clit. His thrusts stills for a short second and your impatient self slides yourself up to fuck his fingers. The obscene sounds get louder with every second as you move closer to your orgasm. 

"I think I should introduce another finger. Princess got my two fingers sopping wet." Jisung's third finger now plunges into you, pushing you apart even further and your breath hitches. He thrusts at a great speed, "We'll be faster, a little bit faster. That will be alright, right?" You know you are close, just a little bit of clitoral stimulation and Jisung's three bony fingers thrusting up into you, hitting the spots—

The electric motor revs and the garage door opens. Chan slowly moves the car into the garage, darkness seeping into the car. Jisung thrusts sloppily, once and then twice before pulling them away from your core, leaving your walls to clench on nothing desperately. You cry, "No, no, no, no—" 

His voice is husky as he says, "Looks like we are here, princess. We are home." Slowly, without breaking contact with your eyes, Jisung sucks on his forefinger and then the middle finger and then the third slowly, tongue wrapping across it, dancing almost like a whole orchestra was playing in the background. 

Chan rushes to open your door. He sees your haphazard hair, unbuttoned shirt and exposed breasts and he groans. You are insatiable just as he has always known. Your eyes are lost and mind far away at dreams of achieving orgasm. Chan buttons up your shirt and helps you get out of the car. His hold on your frame is tight and he kisses the side of  your forehead.

"Chan's making pasta," Changbin announces and walls towards you, raising an eyebrow at your sight. 

"We already have a whole meal here." Jisung licks your arousal from his lower lips. Chan rolls his eyes, before calling out loudly, "Jisung!"

"Yes?"

"You're helping me with dinner."

"But why me? I want to fuck Y/N," he whines. "All I did was tease her in the back of the car." 

Chan leans into you and whispers, "Feel free to hit him when you want to. You'll have me to reason out and save you from anything." You laugh lightly, head slowly focusing on your boyfriend. He shifts his attention back to Jisung, "Because I said so and it's the least of hospitality you must show."

Jisung groans, before reluctantly agreeing, "I have a huge appetite, so heads up." You stare at Jisung, head with thoughts far in the past than in the present. 

Fuck appetite. Fuck Han Jisung. Figuratively, and if fortunate, quite literally. You have a ruined orgasm for the first time that night and all you have an appetite for is one — to be humble — mind-blowing orgasm to take you to the end of the world and back.

Your boyfriend is a gentleman.

In the years you have known Chan, you know for sure that heaven and hell is nothing but a lie. Ironically. The stigmatization of having to be only bad or only good is so skin deep in humans that the very thought of a devil being nice seems like an illusion. That is, if the whole concept of heaven and hell is not an illusion already.

Chan is nice. He is nice to you and that is all that matters to you. He treats you like a princess because you are his princess — the only person worth staying on earth for. 

So when he lets the guys go ahead and pulls you behind a wall right before the huge living room of his apartment is in view, you know he has something to say. That, or he has a kiss to steal.

"Are you okay?" 

Chan's eyebrows are furrowed, eyes softening in worry as his hands lift up to cup your face, thumb rubbing circles into your cheek. You break a smile, leaning forward to brush the tip of your nose against his and you place a delicate peck on the same spot. 

"More than ever. I told you, baby, right? That I'll tap out the minute this gets too much for me."

"I'm just so worried. You've never—"

"Are you guys making out?" You hear Jisung's voice resonate against the walls and you turn your head, stifling the laughter that bubbles inside of you. Jisung yells again, "Chan, pasta!"

"I'm coming," he yells back, dropping his hand from your face. "I'm coming. Oh, if only Lucifer burnt you alive!" 

"I'd have to be alive for that, ha!"

"Go," you chuckle, kissing his lips only to pull back in a short second. "I'll hang out with Changbin."

"He's. . ." Chan sighs. "Just remember to be comfortable, baby, okay?"

"I know. I trust them. Beyond everything, I trust you."

You hold Chan's hand in yours and pull him away from the shadows of the wall, bring him before his friends. Changbin raises an eyebrow at the two of you, before taking a step forward as Chan follows Jisung to the kitchen.

"That leaves us together alone for a while," Changbin suggests, arms folded over each other as he takes quicker steps towards you. He doesn't tower over you much but his entire persona that he broods is enough to make you whimper, lips to part unknowingly and eyes to widen in want. "I should probably introduce myself properly. I'm Changbin. I've known your boyfriend since forever. We became demons around the same time."

"Oh," you respond, mouth patching up with the excessive want.

"I'd like to get to know you, sweetheart?" Changbin is close enough for you to feel the warmth that exudes from his body. His arms drop for a small second before his right one lifts up. His thumb and forefinger grips on your chin to angle it up slightly for you to look at him properly. The name he calls you by makes you gasp under your breath, loving the endearment and he notices. Changbin notices how much the term has its effect on you in this minute.

"Do you like being called a sweetheart, princess? An angel, maybe? Do you like dressing up in pretty pink lingerie for Chan? Maybe you want to be a baby doll on top of me for the night?" Changbin lets go of your chin before taking a step back and walking towards Chan's sofa. He sits down on it, thighs spread apart as his arm rests on the side. His attention drifts back to you, lips quirking up in brief excitement. "Or despite dating one of the most sinful creatures ever to exist, you like being called a good girl?"

Your thighs clench together and you grip at the end of your skirt. Changbin laughs at the reaction he draws out from you. He taps on his thighs and beckons for you, "Why don't you come be a good girl on my lap, hm?"

You take shy steps towards him, before sitting on his thighs that he now has pressed together. Either of your legs dangle on the sides of his body and Changbin holds your hips as he pulls you closer. Your skirt crumpled up, exposing so much more to him and Changbin is in delight at how pretty you look on top of him.

"May I?" And you nod, mumbling a soft yes. His hand slowly trails above, starting from the point right above your knee joint. It's slow and sensuous for a soft second as his fingers slowly climb up your thigh before the tables turn over and Changbin's hand rips the panties from underneath your skirt and throws it to the side. Your eyes widen, cheeks heating up as you hold onto his shoulder at the sudden force. 

"We won't be needing that for the night now, do we?"

You bite your lip and Changbin's hand hovers over your sodden lips from the previous encounter with Jisung. He rubs his palm over it as he locks his gaze with yours and asks, "Respond, princess. I need to hear you respond."

"No, we won't need that."

"That's my good girl," Changbin praises you and presses the heel of his palm into your clitoral region and you moan explicitly and unhinged. He rubs it slightly and your burning core oozes more of your arousal out into his hand, burning for that long forgotten orgasm you had hoped for. Using his other hand, he rips open your blouse, the top button letting free from the dress at all the harsh happenings it has been through for the night. 

"Oh dear, look at that," Changbin clicks his tongue repeatedly before plunging his fingers into your core and pulling your bra down with his teeth at the same time, grazing slightly at your breast that it leaves you thrusting yourself on his fingers that drive hard into you. 

You whimper, "Changbin, fuck," and he lets out an amused sound. He thrusts his two fingers in and out of you as he lips wrap around your nipple, lapping at it. He lets go momentarily, hot breath fanning all over your mound and he asks,

"Do you like this or maybe is it some pain that you like?" 

And within a second, Changbin's teeth bite into the flesh by your mound. His unoccupied hand cups your mound, massaging it before flicking your nipple. Harshly. You gasp, head dropping forward as you lean into Changbin's chest, whimpering repeatedly.

"Baby girl likes that, doesn't she?" He flicks it again, pain shooting up your nerves and you slightly bite into his neck. He speaks into your skin. "She likes it a lot."

Changbin says he likes art. He talks about how he loves the purple colours that blend into the pink and then, the colours of your skin. He sucks on your bosom, littering the area around your areola with pretty, pretty marks all while his fingers are plunged deep inside of you, pads of the same rubbing your walls while his palm rubs the collected arousal into your core, pressing into your clit and stimulating it 

Your senses are alert and every breath, every moan that is present in the air is hyperbolised in your ears. You can feel Changbin's rough fingers slowly pull out while his mouth trails down to wrap his lips around your areola, tongue wrapping around your nipple and he laps at it like a starved animal.

"Chan's too nice to you, too gentle, too kind to you. Treats you like some porcelain doll. I don't blame him for that," Changbin taunts you. He pulls his fingers out from your dripping core and his mouth leaves your breasts. Your walls contract at the sudden absence of his fingers and you grind down onto his thighs, expecting — begging more.

Changbin flicks at your stimulated clitoris. It sends a rush of both pain and pleasure intermingled up your spine, hitting your brain cells, leaving you lost and in a trance. He continues the mockery, "I usually don't fuck with humans. In fact, I even condoned Chan for doing that. No offense to you, baby girl, but humans are delicate, too fragile, for my taste. No matter how sex crazed or ravenous you are, you are still no match for a demon by comparison."

Changbin kisses up your neck, marking you up as he draws out his mockery. You think it is weird that this time round Changbin doesn't intimidate or anger you. Rather every word he says sends a trail of arousal shooting downwards, making you wetter with every passing second — making you anticipate for so much more. It is embarrassing at how wet you are from every single teasing you have been put throygh for the night. 

"You may think Chan is different but he isn't, baby girl. He's just as demonic as we are, just as fucked up as every creature from hell is. He might hold back for you, but when you push his buttons well enough, you know he'll unleash it all. Even Jisung. The only difference between them and yours truly is that—" Changbin pauses. His lips quirk up and his hand unbuckles his belt, metal clinging as it comes undone. He unzips the pant and shoves it down as he lifts himself up with you with such ease that your fragile, weak and overstimulated self is in surprise. He pulls his dick out from his formal pants and it is hot, hard and everything you crave at this point. 

You think it's unfair for a man with this big an ego to have this thick a cock and you were this close to blaming God for being unfair when you realise this isn't his territory. And history has proven that Lucifer has always been kind to his followers. 

Changbin strokes his cock, thumb rubbing at the slit at the hot head. You salivate, almost ready to drip from the corner of your mouth when Changbin cuts your thoughts — filthy thoughts, too dirty to be spoken of; filthy, filthy thoughts on how heavy his cock would be on your mouth, on how wide his cock would stretch your mouth and how deep he'd go, perhaps all the way to your throat — and holds your thighs, pulling you closer into him to position you in such a way that his cock is straddled right between the flesh of both your thighs.

"The only difference between me and the other two, baby girl, is that," Changbin's voice drops an octave lower as he almost growls, "I don't make a habit of suppressing it at all. I can grab you by the throat just like this—"  The demon holds you by your throat, his fingers wrapping around your neck hovering right across your jugular and carotid, pressing them slightly. It is scary how you are here trusting a demon fully aware that an inch deeper and you would be accompanying him in your journey to the other world. Or mayhaps it's your trust in your boyfriend. Changbin's fingers are wrapped deliciously around your neck and your pussy leaks juices, coating his dick that is pressed against it. "—and thrust my dick so deep into you and fuck you so hard that your body, mind and soul is broken beyond repair."

Your mouth opens wide, tongue resting against your lower lip and Changbin spits into your mouth, ordering you instantly, "Swallow," and when you do, he lets go of your neck for a second, caressing the roughened area and mumbling, "You're a good, good girl for me, aren't you, baby girl?"

You nod, voice hoarse as you beg like a kitten in her worst heat, "Please, please, please—"

"Please what, baby girl? Use your words like the good girl you are."

"Fuck me, Binnie. Fuck me, fuck me. Need your dick in me. I'll be a good girl." 

Changbin laughs loudly, almost as if he is mocking you. He is, because his fingers wrap around your neck once again as he thrusts his cock upwards. It slides against your wet lips, striking against your clit. "How could I fuck you when your thighs are this inviting? Look at how wet they are because of your arousal. You are leaking, baby. What a good whore."

"Binnie," you gasp, barely phrasing with his hold on your neck as he thrusts back upward. He holds your close as you equally grind on him. "Binnie, I want more. I want more."

"Be a good girl and I'll reward you, baby girl. Be a good girl and let me fuck your thighs." You nod and grind down. "How does it feel like, baby girl, to have my hard cock rubbing against you? Squeeze your legs tightly around me—" You wrap your legs around him, heels digging into his back. "Fuck, just like that." 

The squelching sounds are loud and prominent. The friction of his cock rubbing against your wet skin is amplified in the silence. Your hips move slightly trying to get as much as contact possible on your clit. Your head is empty, voices hindered and you can only think of how badly you want to get fucked, how badly you want Changbin to treat you more roughly. 

Changbin is vocal. Very, very vocal. He whimpers at every rub, moans loudly and grunts as you grind down on him. The filthy words that leave his mouth does not stop — "Your skin feels so warm and cool against my cock. Oh fuck, can you feel your clit throbbing against my dick, baby girl? You naughty little fucking thing."

His pace quickens as he thrusts further, grunting, "You are fucking delicious, baby girl. Chan's been keeping a whole asset away from us."

"Binnie, Binnie—" you moan, breasts rising and falling with every occasional jumping you do on his thighs to match the pace of his thrusts. "Choke me harder, please."

"What?"

"I want you to choke me harder."

"Fuck," and Changbin listens clearly. His fingers dig a little deeper and you are gasping, arousal dripping even more and staining his navy blue formal pants after coating his cock further. "Fucking grind on my cock. Baby girl, you are making me rethink my policy on humans."

"Ungh," you whimper when his cock stills and grinds onto your clit, focusing only on that. Changbin chuckles. His voice is laced with tease, "Easy there, baby girl. If my cock were to accidentally slip into your pussy, who knows what I might do." 

"Please, please—" You barely speak out when Changbin's grip on your neck loosens for a bit.

"Did I fuck the words out of you, baby? Did I fuck you stupid? I haven't even fucked you with my dick yet and look at you already. You would want that right, baby girl? For me to fuck you dumb, fuck you stupid. I'll have you ride my cock till all you know is how to be a good girl for me and how to take my big fat cock."

"Yes, yes, yes—" 

Changbin stops right when your whimpering increases, pitch shooting up higher and your chest rises and falls as he halts. However, in one swift motion, he pins you on the sofa, him on top of you and he stares at you. You are a disoriented mess, hair spilling onto your face and everywhere, clothes open partially but enough to spill everything and your legs — thighs specifically — are glistening in the lights.

"It sucks that you are Chan's girl, sweetheart? Do you think he'd mind sharing more than once?"

Changbin does not wait for your response. With the support of his hands, he brings his body down, head in direct contact with your skirt stained with your arousal and the precum that oozed out from his cock. He sucks deep purple marks into your thighs, trailing them all the way to your glistening core. And then, his mouth is on your sodden lips.

It's a miracle at how you are able to keep your eyes open. All the teasing this night has made your body heavy and yet, like some starving woman on sex steroid, your pussy aches for more. His lips are on your wet ones as he licks at the lips, pushing it apart as he takes in your arousal, lapping in to take it all. It is merciless. The demon he is, is marvellous, hot and a sex god at that. His tongue licks your lips, tip teasing your entrance as he rubs your clit, slowly. he draws small circles over it, tapping at the engorged button till your toes curl in, knees lift up to bend for your feet to press down. Your eyes are squeezed shut and your fingers pull at his hair every time you feel the knot tightening. 

The room is filled with lewd noises and your moans are loud enough for everyone in the house to hear. Changbin licks stripes after stripes on your lips, lapping up your arousal as he hums in delight. Another stripe up your wet lips and he soon wraps his plump pair around your clit and sucks on it, loud noise of suckle resonating and causing you to move your hips slightly. 

Changbin's sharp teeth graze over your clit, nibbling slightly till you feel the knot clench in your stomach. The vortex forms deep within you again, the sign of an impending orgasm and you can only pray that he doesn't leave you begging like Jisung did. It's coming. You are so close, again, for the second time this night and you needed it. You are sure that you would go crazy if you did not receive the release you had so prayed for. Changbin rubs your clit furiously, lips moving back to your cunt as he eats you out. Changbin's tongue flicks to perfection, hitting your sensitised bud over and over again till you snap and come undone all over his face, arousal squirting out and over his entire face.

Your legs quiver as Changbin laps it all up, tongue swiping across your lips till he has drunk every single drop of your arousal. Your eyes that were squeezed shut opens and you see the mess you have made on his face. 

"Fuck, I'm sor—" You try to lift yourself up to help him when Changbin pulls you by your legs closer to him and wraps his lips on your clit, sucking on the bud till it borders overstimulation and you are screaming out in both pain and pleasure, your abdomen pitting at the sight of another orgasm with his actions.

"Binnie, fuck, oh fuck," Tears well up at the corner of your eyes on being overstimulated. You can feel your brain getting fuzzier, sense hyperbolic at everything around you. You are falling into something you are unfamiliar with. "I'm sensitive, fuck. I'm so sensitive."

He moves forward, overstimulating you and your eyes roll up at all your nerves being triggered to send the excess messages of stimulation to your brain, knots tightening and you are ready to combust once again until Jisung walks out of the kitchen, announcing, "Dinner's ready."

"Too bad I had my fill," Changbin sniggers, tongue extending out of his mouth to lick your arousal off the corners of his mouth. Your chest rises and falls and you try to focus in on something on the ceilings — ah, the spokes of the fan, yes. Three. Three. Three. Three. Changbin quickly notices the change in your demeanor, "Baby girl? You alright?"

"Princess?" Chan's rushing to your side as soon as he hears something is up with you. You giggle, laughing soon enough as you look up. Changbin stands up from your side, concern filling him when you start laughing. Jisung, on the other hand, walks to keep the pasta on the table behind the sofa. "Princess, are you there with me?"

It is the rush of endorphins that cloud your brain. Your heart beats fast, breathing rapid and it's a different kind of high you are in. You hold onto Chan's sleeve, giggles nonstop as you mumble in between, "Chan, uh, Chan! Chan!"

"I've got you, princess," he says softly, before wrapping his arm around your thighs and the other over your torso before lifting you up. "I've got you. I'm right here." You cling onto his shirt, snuggling into him as he verbally assures you. 

He stops midway in his path, turns to look at two of his friends, especially glaring at Changbin, before firmly saying, "Eat and leave. I'll talk to you later. I have to take care of her."

"We could hel—"

"Not today. Not now. I'll—" Chan sighs, holding you closer to him as you mumble words incoherently, smiling to yourself. His face softens, as if he's trying to comfort Changbin who looks guilty for the first time before Chan in eons of years together. "We'll talk to you later."

"Okay."

"And guys?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for tonight. I know she liked it. A bit too much, if anything."

Chan holds you close.

So close to him that even the rush of endorphins in your brain isn't loud enough to hear how loud your own heart beats next to his faint beating one. 

His arms wrap around your frame, hand holding your head close into his chest as he soothingly rubs the back of it and at every short interval, he coos into your head, "I'm right here, baby." Your body shifts to a relaxed position from the very tensile state it was in that second thanks to his voice, at his words and at his very being.

"Relax, baby. This is going to pass. You did so well, so, so well."

And you giggle into his chest, eyes closing warmly for a fraction there before looking up at him. Chan believes if synesthesia was a thing for demons, he would see the colours behind your eyes. How the crimson red slowly — so, so slowly — turned to darkest shades of pink and then the softest ones and Chan knows. He knows for sure that this is it. This is his whole world.

Chan feels jealous of humankind for the first time.

He is envious about how it would not be him that grows old with you, has kids with you and gets to be physical with you at every point. He knows he can't do that with you forever. He cannot do this with you forever. And even if he did decide to fuck it and do it anyway, you'd leave him one day. 

Chan knows he could never do much. He cannot change fate or turn himself into human for you. That is impossible. And yet he hopes — ah, a dangerous thing for a demon to have, something they mustn't possess — that every moment he spends with you is infinite and never dies. 

Your body tightens up again, goes rigid in his hold and he worries for you. That is Chan's first mistake, or so he believed years back. He cares for you. He cares for you in ways a demon shouldn't. He cares for you enough to know that demons have feelings or at the very least, he does. He cares enough to call it love. 

"It's alright," he mumbles and you mumble back, "We couldn't spend time together tonight."

"It's still eight. We have time," Chan smiles and rubs the hair off your face, only to press a soft chaste kiss on your forehead. "We have a lot of time. You should rest. You were such a good girl tonight."

"I was," you hold onto his shirt before letting your hands trail underneath and Chan realises the endorphins are slowly calming down, keeping you in a safer position than you were minutes back. "Wasn't I, daddy?"

"Princess, you really had a lot today, do you—"

"I want to. I—" You kiss Chan, hands cupping his face and lips pulling at his before letting your tongue twine with his. You moan unknowingly as your body rises to lean further into him. Your fingers graze the small stubble by the side of his jaws as you find yourself getting lost in him, in the feeling of his hot tongue lapping around yours.

"Mmh," Chan moans before holding your jaw tighter, leg wrapping around your frame. In a swift motion, he pins you down underneath him as he still kisses you. His lips are beyond tempting as you draw every kiss out, draw every moan out from him. He pulls back the minute you lift your hips to grind onto his crotch, feeling himself against your bare core. "We should stop—"

"No. You're my Valentine. Not Changbin or Jisung. You'll always be my Valentine," you respond, tugging him down into you by his shirt. Chan's eyes widen before softening as he looks at you — looks at you like you are everything better than him, hell and afterlife. 

"But you really had it rough today and—"

"I want more. I want so much more rough and I want them from my boyfriend. No one else." Your hand grades the stubble again and Chan leans into your hold. "The fact that you've never been rough with me and that I had to hear about it from Changbin and Jisung did no good to my ego, baby."

"They were—" Chan pauses on his own this time. You don't interrupt or cut him. He knows he can't lie to you. He knows how much he holds back but Chan knows that he has no issue with that. It's a safer option for you and yet here you are tonight asking him to be himself, be everything he is and show you how far he can go — he was going to fucking lose it at that alone. 

"You know they were not lying," your voice lower. "They are demons, you had said, and that I should be careful. But Chan, baby, you are a demon too. So why do you hold back? Is it because I'm a human?"

"Yes," Chan reluctantly agrees and you sigh. You drop your hand from his face and Chan's lips pucker in response. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You know you won't," you reassure him. "You could never hurt me unknowingly and even if you did, you know you'd take care of me till I'm back to the same."

"There shouldn't be a situation that leads to the worst case scenario, Y/N."

"But I want that. I want you to show me everything and I want to know if I'd like that. Give me a choice. I—" You gulp, scared of telling it out loud finally now that you have come to a partial conclusion to it yourself. "I liked Changbin being rough on me. I liked it a lot. I liked Jisung edging me. I liked it so much that all I could think about till Changbin touched me was of Jisung giving me an orgasm."

Chan's hand presses down by the sheets adjacent to your face and he holds it tightly. If care was an emotion he shouldn't have felt, jealousy is another that should never have a place in a demon's mind. Especially not when they were all brought up with the thought of sharing. 

He hates how Changbin got to be rough with you before him. Something so petty and so, so territorial arises in him that he wasn't even aware for him to feel this. He knows he gave consent. He knows he was there to hear it all and yet hearing you say you liked it brought in exactly two emotions in him that conflicted each other so much that he knew he was going feral — a) delight, over you being so content and over you being so understanding of demonic natures and b) jealousy, over another demon having had you in ways only he had before. 

"Chan?"

"Yes?"

"You were lost there for a minute."

"You promise me you'll tell me to stop if it gets too much, right?"

"Always," you peck at his lips. "I'll always do that. I just want everything you are and you have to offer. I don't want to know stuff from others. I want to feel them through you."

And Chan kisses you again. This time however, it is a lot different from the previous kiss you drew out from him. His lips find home in yours as they come upon you, imperatively. The kiss gets deeper each time, tongues chasing and lapping each other, earning continuous whines and whimpers coming out from both of you. Your arms wrap themselves around his neck, your fingers trailing up his nape to his hair, gripping the small hair at his back and Chan kisses you passionately, his hands cupping and tilting your face, angling it so that he could intensify the kiss as he desired.

He's desperate to show you everything he is.

The very second your mouth had brushed his, Chan knows that you are the one for him. It had always been you. Even now, if he closed his eyes, he could feel the tingle over his lips and your warm breath wafting over his chin. It is exactly as he had carved in his mind, etched so deep that it could never fade away.

His hand is prominent on its grip on your neck, as you lift your chin higher — so you can press your lips harder into his —  while your hands fist into his shirt — white, clean and perfect all for the night only for it to be discarded to the very corner of the bedroom the two of you share. His free hand drops to wind around your waist, arm pressed between the bed and you and in one swift movement, he pulls your body flush against his.

Gasping at the motion, Chan seizes the opportunity to slip his tongue between your teeth, your lips parting further in response. His tongue swipes across yours, curling around your tongue and gently massaging it. The metal ball at the tip of his tongue provides a sharp coldness and you hiss into his mouth, only for him to provide more contact with the metal that it leaves you emitting moans into him. 

It is electrifying. Every single thing with Chan has been exciting, unpredictable and leaves you begging for more. It is perhaps mankind's adhesive nature towards sin itself that made you like this — that made you into such a moldable clay in his hands and you don't mind going to hell for this. Because every single moment you lived on earth, if it were with him, would be relentlessly passionate. You would never want to swap with anything, even if someone handed heaven to you on a platter.

Because Chan is your heaven. 

When you feel his tongue flick against yours, slightly, grazing it, your hands uncurl from his shirt - only to wind up his chest, along his throat, towards the nape of his neck. You find yourself lapping around the metal ball on his tongue, rolling your eyes shut. 

With every passing second, you find yourself drowning into Chan. His body is pressed flat against yours, chest against yours, his saccharine taste coating your senses till that is all you can think about, and his warm breath all over your face. You find yourself drowning into him — you always have — his entire presence encasing your senses as you lose yourself deep into his entire being.

Is this how people were dragged into hell? Tempting. 

Chan pulls back and you smile at your boyfriend, like a little girl happy to have received her candy. You glance down at your shirt that is half open as a result of everything that happened tonight and proceed to unbutton the rest and remove it off your body. Chan's eyes linger more than ever on the marks that Changbin has left all over your body — marks that have turned dark purplish red and he seethes at the very sight of it in anger. 

"If we do this again, on your request, of course," Chan kisses over all the marks slowly, taking his own time to lick it over with his tongue before pressing his lips against it. "I'm going to be physically present. Not going to let anyone mark my baby up like this. That's for me."

And Chan sucks over it. His hand goes behind your back to unhook your bra and toss it aside. His hand lands firm on your breast, fingers playing with your nipple as his mouth slowly moves down to kiss your other nipple before sucking on it, lewd sounds emitting from his mouth.

"Daddy, fuck—" Your back arches, hips jutting upwards into his pelvis only to feel his covered growing length rough against your sticky skin. Chan uses his free hand to hold onto your waist and lift you slightly, allowing you to hook your leg over his waist, tight enough to tease you.

Chan hums in approval as you grind up, exposed core moving and staining your favorite formal pants of his, all while his tongue laps at your areola. The metal ball right at the centre of the tip of his tongue is pressed to your nipple and the difference in temperature has your mind spiralling. 

His palm squeezes your breast, thumb running over your nipple before he purposefully leans down and gives you a taste of his warm mouth. You gape open at the contact of his mouth on your nipple, teeth purposely grazing against the skin only for the metal ball to soothe over the burn.

Puckering his lips, he presses them to the sensitive spot by your jugular before sucking harshly. Responsively, a low mew resounds from your lips, leaving them in the open for just you and him to hear to.

"Do you remember the safe word?"

You nod, "Red for you to stop, yellow for you to give me time and green for you to proceed."

"Perfect," and Chan moves so quickly to remove your skirt off your body as he hovers over your completely naked self, fully clothed. You have always wondered if Chan would ever be into power play, especially with how he could project himself sometimes. Like in moments like these. You make a note in your head to ask him about the very thing. 

Chan kisses your lips, tugging at your lip before dipping himself further, getting lost in you. He rubs his tongue across your lower lip, metal ball harsh against your coral lips. He kisses your cheek and then, your pinna.

You feel his warm breath against your ear, shuddering in impact. You are about to ask him to stop teasing you — that you've had enough foreplay the whole night. However, in the next second, his hand lowers and lands on your inner thighs in a loud spank and you gasp, not expecting it. He hits the same skin almost a second after before the pain recedes and you are moaning out loud, brain wiring differently as heat pools between your legs.

“Fuck," he swears under his breath. His hand edges closer to you, dangling so close to your core that he can feel your arousal by your thighs, all over again and over the dried ones by your thighs. "You’re so dripping wet,” Chan mutters, only to laugh and comment, "At least I can credit this to myself."

Chan leans forward, next to your ear again and mumbles, "Baby, I'll be using words that would come off as very demeaning but I need you to know that I would never use them unless we are in the mood. You are and will be my baby girl, my princess forever. Is that alright?"

"It is," you blush, heat shooting straight to the core and you can feel yourself leak further, embarrassingly, right when Chan's hand is so close to your lips.

"Fuck, you are dripping. Such a filthy whore," Chan taunts and you feel it, deep in your gut. You've never seen this side to Chan but fuck, you love it. You love it more than Changbin having called you a good girl. You want to be called a whore, a slut — as long as you were his whore, his slut. 

Chan collects the arousal that you drip out, coating his fingers and palm. Moving his fingers, he collects your arousal that leaks from your gaping hole and watches the transparent stick to his fingers. The bulge in his pants is hard and seems too painful to be confined. You gulp evidently, throat parched. Chan's hand edges closer towards your lips and languidly strokes your slit with his fingers coating in your arousal. The pads of his finger circles your hole and you mewl, clutching slightly onto his shoulder. 

"Daddy, please, need your fingers in me."

"You've been fucked by two demons already and you are still so horny," he scoffs. "Impressive." He raises an eyebrow. Almost like he is teasing you further, he continues to play with your cunt. You whimper, gasping and hoping to feel the burn of the stretch that would come with him thrusting his fingers up.

Each small action Chan does has you moving forward in pleasure, hoping for the same as you try to move with his hand, all in an attempt to drive his digit deeper into you. Nonetheless, Chan controls the pressure and the pace and no matter how hard you try to move, he never lets you have his way, clearly showing that it was him in power here, not you. Growing tired of his teasing, anticipation filling you to insanity, tears brimming your eyes, you whine, “Fucking hell, Ch— Daddy, come on."

Chan chuckles, kissing your clavicle, biting into the skin above and sucking furiously enough to mark you. You sigh, breath exhaled out desperately. "Please, please, pl— Ah!"

Chan hits your core with the pads of his finger, labia silently flapping in impact and you moan at the pain that shoots up from your sensitive core. This causes you to moan, body moving forwards in a surprised reaction. The palm hitting the clit sends electric sparks throughout your body, your brain almost fusing. The sound is sharp as it rings through the air before you feel pain along the vulva. Crying in pain, you mumble softly out before holding to him softly, “Please,” you implore. "I need you, daddy." 

The sensation of the pad of his thumb swiping against your swollen, needy bud causes you to buck into him, your cunt soon contracting around nothing. Chan mumbles as he lowers his body silently, kissing your skin on his way. He kisses the skin right above your acetabulum, tracing his lips down till he kisses your core, a soft peck over it. 

It is a stark difference in your clothing that takes you aback; of how you were completely naked while Chan was completely clothed and yet that excited you. The power he has is enough to have you ooze out more arousal that would prompt the sheets to stain further. 

Chan licks at your core, once, twice and then he is sucking at your clit, like a man walking days in a desert with no water source. His mouth is against your core, licking on it, the cold wet metal ball pressing against it, before he sucks on your engorged button. The lewd noises that leave your mouth are pornographic and your legs have lost their strength.

You are about to say a word before Chan curls his fingers up into you and your back arches slightly at the feeling of his fingers in you. "D-Daddy!" 

You feel Chan searching your walls for the spot he has felt enough that he finds it in a few minutes. He rubs against the same spot that brings the loudest reaction from you before dragging his fingers back slowly only to slip his fingers easily into you again, the slick of your arousal dripping down your thighs. The sheets are stained. His pants are stained and so is his white shirt. 

"No demon I've fucked before would have sex this close to being out of the world. Fuck, princess. Your slutty pussy is clutching onto my fingers." He rubs your walls and your enlarged button. Your hips gyrate with him, thrusting and chasing after his fingers desperately as you press into him. 

Chan's fingers are fast as they thrust in and out of your core. You could find yourself getting wetter and wetter with the lewd sounds that resonate the walls. The demon presses his metal piercing flat against your clit and you gasp. "F-Fuck, Daddy!"

And as Chan sucks on your button of nerves, his fingers thrusts into you at a relentless pace, pushing right at the spot that has you feeling the endorphins spilling into your bloodstream. You feel the knot that tightens in your stomach, ready to fall over the cliff till Chan's teeth graze your clit and you lose it.

“Come for me, my princess,” Chan urges. His command, paired with the way his tongue dances across your clit and how his rough thick fingers drags against your sweet spot, has you careening off of the brink of pleasure and into an oblivion. You can feel your bloodstream soaking slowly with the rush of endorphins. You need a moment to calm down from how good that orgasm is, as Chan slowly rubs you through your high. 

You think Chan is about to drag his fingers out of you and away when he picks up the speed of his fingers. He toys with your sensitive clit. 

"Daddy, ah—" You feel the pain slightly of being overstimulated, slowly getting intense and intense. You are crying and he slows down, looking into your eyes, expecting a colour to be screamed and when you don't, smiling softly, he continues, kissing you and swallowing every cry you have. 

You feel your skin standing at the very precipice of being sensitive to anything. In a split second without any warning, his mouth still on you, Chan holds your clit between his forefinger and thumb before twisting it and instantly, you feel something deep within you tighten up.

That was it. Your breath is disoriented. Your jaw falls loose and you let out a loud cry as a powerful orgasm cuts right through you. Chan drops his hand on to the bed as you squirt on being overstimulated. Your arousal soaks his shirt, fabric sticking to his body and he is amused. Your thighs shake, quivering uncontrollably as your back curves, body lifting up. Chan's other arm wraps around you as he kisses you through this. Your muscles tremble, ache and are sour. Eventually, you find your hips stopping gradually as you fall victim to the pleasure, squirting slowly receding. His hand is covered in your juices and he chuckles against your lips after pulling back, placing you lightly on your back.

"That was so fucking hot," he looks at you proudly, pressing his forehead against yours. Your eyes are closed, post that powerful orgasm, tears staining your cheeks. He moves only after your eyes open, making sure you are alright and are able to breath right.

"Daddy," you smile and Chan smiles brighter. That's his girl. That's his girl, alright.

"You've got my shirt messy, princess." He chuckles and your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as your head drops to the side to look away. Chan holds your face with his messy hands and kisses you, drawing out another long kiss to rid you away from any other thoughts besides ones of fucking him tonight. 

You pull away and mumble, "It's not fair that you were dressed completely in the first place."

"Is that so now?"

"Yes," you huff and your hand trails up Chan's arm, fingers digging into his arm. "It's a damn bother." 

Chan unbuttons his shirt, taking his own time with it as his fingers roll against them before popping the material out of hold from the button. Your hand lies in wait by his waist, fingers rubbing against the curve of his ass and you stare up at him. With every button that he maneuvers his shirt out of, you can see his tattoos more and more clearly.

The feathers that poke out through the corner of his shoulder, flat on the coracoid process, more present superficially right above his clavicle, are detailed. You can see the feathers variant in their styles as they fall from a greater source that lies behind him.

Chan's tattoo had always been magnificent, as if they were rebuking the almighty as he acknowledged his very being. The ends of the black feathers also tease into the head of his biceps. Two beautiful wings, bold and powerful, arise from his spine and exhibit loudly on his back.

Your mouth gapes open at the sight of it as Chan bends forward to unbutton his pants, the wings clearly visible to you and your heart leaps at the sight of it. Chan raises an eyebrow at you, staring down at his tattoo, as soon as he pulls down his pants. 

"Ah, the tattoo kink," he chuckles. "How could I forget."

"It's not a thing," you blush.

"Please," he laughs, eyes wrinkling soon. "There's no way you could lie to me, princess." 

You blush. Crunching forward, you stretch your arms, fingers pointing to draw against the outline of the wings. "It's beautiful," you whisper. "It's so fucking beautiful, Chan." He chooses to ignore the call of his name because nothing else would sound sweeter in this moment than his name itself. What you would do to give everything in wrapping your lips around his flesh by the corners of the wings and to ruin it with your own marks.

He unsheathes himself off the confines of his undergarment. Chan has always been bigger in comparison to every single one you had seen, girth firmer than you had envisioned and the frenum piercing has you salivating. It shines under the dim lighting of your room, your eyes unable to drift away from it, lips parted slightly.

You let out a small mewl — the walls of your core throbs against his member at the sensations of the piercings rubbing against the same — enhancing both your senses. Chan notices how your thighs quiver and he raises his eyebrows in sheer amusement.

"You really don't fail to surprise me, princess," Chan sniggers. "Look at you eye fucking me all while I just unstrip."

"Please," your eyes glisten and Chan coos. "Please. Need your cock in me, daddy. Need your big fat cock to fill me up and stuff me stupid." Your hands move down to hold his engorged length in your hand, rubbing the metal balls on the head with your fingers and feeling the coldness in a sharp contrast to his hot girth.

"You've been such a good, good whore tonight. Daddy's going to reward you well. So well." His hand trails down your frame and you shudder as they move down your sides.

Chan moves slightly, his hands bracing on either side of yours. The strong muscles of his arms twitch as he bears the entirety of his body weight on them. You push your body upwards and you stretch your arms up. You run your hands over his naked shoulders and his back, grazing his tattoo a little more before tangling your fingers into his hair as you tug him further over you. 

A soft gasp slips from your mouth when his weight presses over you: his defined chest over yours and his hips pressing into yours in the most enticing way. His cock brushes against your thighs slicken in your arousal and you moan. The metal ladder framing underneath his shaft is cold against your skin and you can feel the goosebumps that arise atop your skin all the way to spread the heat to your core.

Chan's arms wrap around your body, holding you so close to him that your chests brush against each other. You feel his hardened erection sharp against your thighs, brushing against your core and you whimper in his hold. "Please."

"Please what, princess?"

"Fuck me, daddy."

Chan's lips crash onto your swollen ones with a force that has to be reckoned. He grinds his heavy cock into your core, rubbing over your clit. It leaves you moaning, holding onto his deltoids with a ferocious grip, fingers digging into the muscle.

Holding onto the opportunity that presents itself to him, Chan seizes and dives his tongue right into your mouth. They glide across your tongue, your body arching in pleasure. You feel the metallic ball of his piercing run over your tongue in a wistful want, you wrap your own around it before kissing him at the same intensity. Chan's groan hits back through the air in barely a whisper as you swallow most of the sound. Immediately, you let go of his lips and your hand reaches out for his cock slowly coated in precum, you squeeze it softly.

Before you can think straight, you can sense Chan holding his cock in his hand to position himself and with a mere grunt, he enters through your twitching core. His thick girth pushes your walls apart as they move further down into you. Your grip on his deltoid slips to his biceps, desperate to catch hold of something. All that leaves your mouth are parched breaths and desperate moans. 

The lewd noises from his dick seeping through your wetness to enter you and stretch you out resonates through the wall only to hit back to both of your ears. Chan's gaze shifts downwards to watch his cock spread open your lips and disappear into your being — all it does to the demon is excite him more. 

You feel the piercings against your wall, dragging across your softness. The slight dentations cause you to moan as Chan moves it against it over and over again, ensuring to hit your spot as much as possible with every thrust. 

"You're dripping all over my cock, fuck," he grunts as he slips out only to thrust back in carefully. You grind back this time round, trying to match his pace with your fragile body. It takes you aback when you feel Chan grow into his complete girth inside you, stretching you out with an intense burn.

"Daddy," you choke out, words caught in the back of your throat. "Too big, ah."

“No, it’s not, princess," he bites his lip. "We both know you can take it. You're doing so well,” Chan coos. You find him slowing down with every thrust, making sure you are alright. His fingers ghosts right adjacent to your side, caressing your breasts with affectionate touches. 

Slowly, the pain fades away, only to be replaced by a rush of pleasure with every thrust. The hard metal of his piercings drag against the sensitive nerves of your wet core, enough to stimulate every other nerve in your body, rubbing it over and over again. 

Chan notices your face calming and how you were truly living in the moment. He takes this as a sign enough to thrust quicker, metal piercings striking the spot furiously. The sudden intrusion has your lips parting, eyes rolling back and tongue falling out in ecstasy. Your thighs, that quake, spread apart to take more of him, to let him have more control over you. Your walls clamp down on him, holding his cock tightly and magnifying the thick length of his. The moment his length pokes at the end of your cervix, you jerk, throat drying up instantly as a reaction. He was so thick and so full that he reached all the way to your cervix, ready to show you what it truly is like being fucked by a demon.

Chan grunts as he presses his hand down on your belly after pressing a short kiss. There is a slight bulge and Chan loves how you are, almost as if you are made for him. This leads your wall to press around him. His length pulses against your walls and you feel him completely, in his length and girth. Your walls ripple around his length accepting him completely — in his large, engorged, thick length.

"Fuck, I love this. Hell, I love how your juices coat my length and your lips kiss around my cock. Perfectly fitting my cock as if you were made for me,” he mutters. "Aren't you? You're mine. All mine." 

“So pretty, princess,” he coos. With every thrust of his length into you, your body is jolted back and forth, rocking the bed loudly, at an impeccable strength along with your boyfriend's.

In between all the thrusts of his cock, the way his piercings mercilessly drags inside you, triggering every single nerve bundle ever to exist in your body, you feel the clouds of euphoria come at your being. You slowly find yourself losing your being into the sheer bliss of Chan's actions.

With one more rough thrust, you are unable to hold back and with a loud cry, you come undone around Chan's cock. Feeling your walls clamp vigorously around his length, he lets out a deep growl and continues to thrust his hips into you. It is these thrusts that draw out your orgasm, bringing forth waves of bliss and euphoria, slowly seeming to shut down all your senses. The results of your intense orgasm still fluctuate through you. Your thighs tremble and toes curl. Your walls wrap so tightly around his cock that it drives him close.

His cock pulsates in your warmth and you know it too. "Oh fuck! That’s it, princess,” Chan groans out. He thrusts back into you messily, trying to keep up with the same initial pace. However, he falls out of the same relentless thrusting in the pursuit of his own orgasm. Burying his cock as deep into you, he erupts inside of you. He plays with your clit and comes undone in your core as he swears under breath, unfiltered compliments showered upon you. 

His thick cum fills you up. Buried deep, he empties everything of his load, coating your walls with thick stripes of his residue. Slowly, you find yourself back to your senses, body more alive, having ridden yourself of the giddiness of your orgasm. Your body shudders under him in your haze of orgasm.

Chan pulls out his softened cock out from you, glistening under the coated mixture of yours and his orgasm. He holds you close and rubs the side of your face gently as he compliments you, "You did so well, princess. I'm proud of you."

You kiss his lips in response, a soft, chaste one. Chan continues showering you with compliments as he falls by your side, holding you close into his sweaty naked being. He lifts himself soon enough to attend to you when you pull him down, locking him with your grip on his wrist.

"Let me take care of you, baby."

"Five minutes more, please." You look at him with a puppy like expression and Chan sighs, knowing fully well that there would be no way that he could deny your request. 

"Fine, princess," he rubs your hair away from your forehead and pulls you impossibly closer into his chest. 

"Chan?"

"Hm?"

"Happy Valentine's Day, baby."

Chan chuckles, kissing the top of your head and then your forehead as he teases, "You worked too much for a Valentine's Day, baby."

"Please," you stretch the syllable and speak into Chan's chest. "If anything, it is the wildest one I've ever lived to attend."

And as Chan holds you through the night, attending and taking care of you, his phone beeps soon enough,

[1] Voicemail from Changbin Happy Valentine's Day, beautiful and to you too, Chan. Call me back when you hear this. Bye.

[1] Message from Jisung This is how technology works??!!!! Oh my God. Fancy. Anyhow, Happy Valentine's Day. This goes down in my history as best Valentine's Day ever, bitches. P.S. Best sex ever too. Let's have a foursome sometime soon.

[miekasa]

future nostalgia (eren jaeger)

↯ pairing: eren jaeger x (fem) reader, armin is absolutely putting in the work and deserves wingman of the year, mikasa is your well-reasoned, protective friend how you like them apples

↯ genres and warnings: college au, fluff, everybody is a little bit of an idiot, armin and eren supremacy, i will find a way to make levi captain of something in any and every au

↯ word count: 1.5k

↯ summary: armin arlert is the greatest wingman a boy could ask for; unfortunately he’s also oblivious as hell and painfully single himself, but you know what, he’s doing his best (aka you and eren putting your friends through the mental wingman/wingwoman olympics).

↯ notes: i’m running out of gifs to use i’m going to have to learn how to use photoshop to make headers rip in peace to me, also this an old piece, reworked for eren again, sometimes i cheat off of myself it’s okay  

“Just come by the rink during practice,” Armin pleas, “I promise, he can put his hot-headedness to good use!”

“I don’t doubt that,” you chuckle, your voice booming through the speaker of his phone, “But I’m pretty sure the rink is closed to non-athletes or team members, Armin.”

“But I can get you access! Manager’s privileges!” Armin boasts.

“While I appreciate the reminder about how single you think I am—and, I do, truly, Armin, from the bottom of my heart, thank you—you don’t have to try and set me up with one of your hockey jockeys.”

“They’re not jockeys!” Armin protests.

“Reiner Braun is most definitely a jockey.”

Armin slumps down a bit. Okay, most of them are good people. Most of the time. Look, Reiner is the exception, not the norm, but even he could be analytical and composed when he needed to be. 

“I’m going to tell him you said that,” Armin threatens.

“Fine, then I’ll tell him that you almost leaked his nudes to the entire girls volleyball team freshman year.”

“You play dirty,” Armin pouts, face growing red at the memory. (In his defense, it was freshman year, pretty much the first time in his life he’d had alcohol unsupervised, and in his drunken haze he thought he might have been doing Reiner a favor; he was pining over Christa pretty hard). “Which is exactly why you’ll love Eren!”

“Eren, still?” you question, trying to hide the amusement in your tone. “What’s the infatuation with me and Eren? You know, if I’m being honest, Jean is more my type, or even the captain—what’s his name again?”

“You mean Levi?” Armin questions, incredulous, “He’s the exact opposite of your type, don’t lie to me!”

“He’s still hot.”

“Is he really?” Mikasa’s voice questions doubtfully; and you can practically feel her rolling her eyes from across the receiver, “You can do better than him, (Y/N).”

“Wait, am I on speaker?” you ask.

“Maybe, doesn’t matter,” Armin hums, brushing away the topic, “Like I was saying, Eren is great, and you’re great, so you’d be great together! Plus, he’s kind of loaded, and very generous. Not that you’re shallow or anything, but I’m just saying, he’d take you on nice dates.”

“You’re kind of loaded and you don’t take me on nice dates.”

“Because we’re not dating.”

“You could take me on a friend date,” you muse, “Don’t be stingy, Armin.”

“She has a point,” Mikasa quips, “You always go to the fancy museums and don’t invite us.”

“Because the last time I did, you fell asleep! In the middle of the coral reef exhibit!” Armin whines.

“Because it was boring as fuck,” Mikasa deadpans, prompting you to chuckle.

“I have to agree. I’m afraid if you and Eren have the same taste in dates, it will never work out.”

“We don’t!” Armin insists, “Look, Eren is exactly your type, (Y/N), I’m telling you! He’s cute, athletic, but not bulky, and little clumsy, but it can be charming! Plus he loves puppies, cares about the environment, believes the healthcare system is corrupt, and hates most branches of law enforcement! What more could you want!”

“Armin,” you pause, holding back your laughter, “Maybe you should set yourself up with Eren if you think he’s that great.”

Armin chokes on the other end of the line, and your chuckles stumble out; you can imagine the blonde growing red and increasingly embarrassed with every passing second.

Mikasa hums. “Armin and Eren do have good chemistry—”

“Hello?! I don’t want to date Eren!”

“—but, I’ll vouch for Eren on this, too,” Mikasa continues, “I think you two would be good together.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. You’d always known Mikasa was in support of setting you up with Eren too—albeit much more subtle than her blonde counterpart—but she’d never said it explicitly; showing her approval in contended nods and hums whenever Armin would scheme to get you and Eren together. It was somewhat reassuring to hear.

You’re about to continue teasing Armin about the subject, when you hear your apartment door unlock. You shift your phone to your other hand, as you hear the sound of keys clanging onto the hook near the door.

“Look, guys, I gotta go,” you tell him, “This is been fun, but maybe focus on working out your feelings before setting me up, yeah? I wouldn’t want to get in the way of such a beautiful friends to lovers story.”

“Will you—I want you to date Eren, not date him myself! There—be quiet, Mikasa—there are no feelings to work out, I don’t even like g—”

“Sounds, good Armin,” you chuckle, words hurried as you hear footsteps approaching you, “Try and get Levi’s number for me, would you? Rumor has it he’s loaded, too—old money rich and everything.”

“But Eren is perfect—” is all you hear before you end the call, a pair of arms wrapping around your waist from behind, just as your thumb presses against your screen.

Ruffled, brown hair falls onto your shoulders as a chin is propped up against your neck; a flurry feather light kisses greeting you soon after. You hum, reaching your hand back to curl into the brown tresses, a final, exaggerated kiss pressed into the juncture of your neck and shoulder.

“Why are you trying to get Captain’s number,” Eren questions, voice muffled as he nuzzles his nose behind your ear, “No offense, but I think you’d have to line up behind his hundred and one fangirls first, babe.”

You chuckle lightly, neck growing warm as Eren continues to bury himself into your skin. His is cold from the winter air, but you don’t know why he insists on inflicting it onto you, when you know he’ll be back to furnace temperatures within the next ten minutes.

“I’m just messing with Armin,” you answer, resting on of your hands over Eren’s at your waist and giving it a squeeze, “He’s still trying to set us up.”

Eren chuckles, undoing his hold on you to spin you around to face him, cold hands cupping either side of your face. You scrunch your nose at the frigid feeling, but Eren finds it cute, leaning forward to press a kiss to the tip of your nose as an apology.

“Well, Armin is nothing if not loyal,” Eren muses.

“He’s too good for you,” you jest, poking at Eren’s forehead playfully, “He’s putting in all this work to be a good wingman, and you’re slacking off.”

“Technically, he’s not doing any work, we’re already together.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t know that.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Eren questions, using his hands to squish your cheeks together, “I wanted to tell him two months ago.”

“First of all, this secret thing was your idea to begin with,” you point out, “Which—oh, by the way, I told you Mikasa approves of you; she said we’d be cute together on the phone.”

“That doesn’t mean she still won’t castrate me if we ever break up,” Eren says, a shudder running down his spine at the thought of it.

It’s not that he wanted to keep your relationship a complete secret from all of your friends forever, but he was hesitant at first, unsure of how your two friend groups would merge and take the news. And, he knew how much Mikasa cared about you, and truthfully, the dark haired girl scared him a little.

But it was bordering on half a year now, and he was certain that somebody would catch on soon enough. That, or Eren would accidentally let it slip to the entire hockey team one of these days—he almost has on a handful of occasions, but you don’t need to know about all of that.

And while a part of him did like the privacy that came along with dating in secrecy, Eren was finding it increasingly difficult to pretend to not be in love with you whenever you two went out with your friends; and to not brag that he had a super hot, super supportive girlfriend to wear his jersey during games, and Jean didn’t.

“You have plans to break up with me, Jaeger?” you question, but there’s a playful lilt in your voice.

It makes Eren grin, using his grip on your face to pull you closer, words ghosting over your lips before he pulls you in for a kiss, “Not in a million years.”

[solomonish]

selfless (to a fault?) [demon brothers]

CW: allusions to past toxic relationships. minor description of injury in beel’s. belphie’s is a bit sad (happy ending! just melancholic vibes) and alludes to chapter 16.

no problem nonnie! i hope this is to your liking <3

nowdateables: here!

---

Lucifer

Honestly, he'd be a tough one to get to allow you to do anything for him. You know, the whole avatar of pride thing….and he also just generally has a habit of holding the weight of the world on his shoulders. He thinks - no, he knows he can handle everything on his own

If he's letting you in enough to help him - not only trusting you enough to think the tasks he delegates to you will be done to his liking, but allowing you to help and opening up the possibility that he might be risking his image of perfection - he can only expect you'll let him do the same for you. It's like your own special love language, right?

He does NOT like how jumpy you are about the subject. At first, he's miffed. Do you not think he can do the task to your liking? Has he given off the false impression that he cannot take any more work than he already has? Was your offer to help not based on affection, but pity??? It really ruffles his feathers.

He's the type to confront you head-on. At first, his voice is harsh because he's talked himself into thinking you've offended him, but when you start backing away and trying to dodge the conversation, apologies falling from your mouth about how the last thing you wanted to do was upset him, he softens. He doesn’t understand yet, but something is upsetting you and he intends to get to the bottom of it.

Not one who would pester you about opening up to him, but the sooner you do, the more of a show of good faith it is. He’ll trust your word entirely regardless, but it does a lot to soothe the upset of his own creation if you come back to explain sooner rather than later. After all, being vulnerable is perhaps Lucifer’s greatest show of love - it does not go unnoticed when you do the same.

Doing his best to talk through a solution is act of kindness #1 - and it helps you adjust a little since you worked with him rather than completely handed him the reins. He starts off his own plan to help you out by bringing in things he was already going to do for himself - offering you coffee when he gets his own, for example. He uses the fact that you’d feel bad for refusing against you for a little bit, but he means well!

You might notice him going softer on you for just a little bit - don’t say anything about it. He’s worried that he gave off the impression of using things against you because of how much of a disciplinarian he is. Besides, the two of you normally don’t get into arguments (he doesn’t have the time to let things simmer - if he’s that upset about something, he’ll try to address it immediately), so he doesn’t really know how else to change his behavior. He just hopes that allowing you the opportunity to open up to him again, should you need it, will alleviate the feeling that he’d ever use your kindness against you.

Mammon

The first time you stiffened up after he tried to help you, he thought you were crazy. Lucifer had just given you a punishment for one of his schemes that you took the fall for (and he still isn’t sure why Lucifer let you take the fall when it was obviously Not You), and you insisted that you could do it by yourself! He wasn’t too keen on cleaning every window in the House of Lamentation himself, so he left soon after placing the offer, but his time was spent mindlessly wondering about you.

The next time was shortly after, when you came into his room and crashed on his bed. He offered you a hand massage, although he did it in a very muttered voice with dark cheeks - and you said no again! Forget being offended that the romantic hand-holding idea he totally didn’t get from a magazine he was reading waiting for you (that would’ve somehow ended in disaster anyway) wouldn’t play out - he was getting worried.

He doesn’t bring anything up immediately, but he worries about you and watches you intently. Sometimes you’ll catch him staring at you, and he flips out when you ask him what’s up. The only clue Mammon gathers is that you don’t seem to be angry with him, so what’s up? He’s used to his backwards advances working against him, but he’s making a genuine effort here!

He finally gets pent up in his frustration and asks you head-on. Mammon isn’t known for his tact - “Oi, why won’t you just let me take over once in a while? Cut yerself a break, MC!” - but there’s a certain...desperate tinge to his voice that makes you realize he really does care (and is driving himself crazy trying to figure things out on his own). When you DO finally tell him, he sort of deflates and his voice goes to that softer, more genuine tone.

“H-hey, I would never do that kind of thing to ya…” He starts shuffling in place, kicking at rocks (if there are any) and you realize he kinda looks like a kid. “You do so much for everyone, and it makes me feel real good inside. I just wanna make you feel that, too. Besides, we don’t need TWO cranky workaholics in the house. Lucifer is plenty.”

He knows one moment of honesty isn’t going to fix your entire way of thinking, but he goes right back to his blatant offers after that. Maybe if he desensitizes you to it, you’ll feel less weird about accepting his help! It doesn’t work, so he shifts to little things. Catch him running across classrooms as soon as you’re dismissed so he can grab your textbooks to carry for you off the desk before you can. 

Once he realizes you’re more receptive to him helping you, he’s ready to breathe a sigh of relief and be annoying about it again. Generosity doesn’t come easy to him, okay? Besides, he’s The Great Mammon! You should’ve known he’d be better than any other guy you’ve been with!

Leviathan

Of COURSE you wouldn’t want someone like him to help you out. He’d probably mess it up, anyway…

Seriously, Leviathan is very sensitive to rejection, so the moment you politely decline any offers to help he backs up about a thousand miles and sulks when you’re not around. It’s hard for him to get out of his own head, and he’s so ready for you to just tell him what everybody else is thinking and how much he sucks…

It dawns on him, though, that you never gave up on him when he pushed you away. It’s totally not poggers sucky of him to just give up on you like that. You’re his henry! You’re his s/o! He’s totally ready to fight any boss for you!! …..after he levels up a little more.

Levi spends a TON of time looking up ways to talk to you, one-on-one. He isn’t good with emotions like this but he is capable of them and having deep, serious talks. It shouldn’t MATTER that his research material is a bunch of feel-good romance anime scenes that he based his most recent Top 10 OTPs of the season post on! 

Surprisingly enough, he brings it up relatively smoothly one night when you’re chilling in his room and he’s playing some relaxing simulator. You’re complaining about the things you have to do in the morning, and when there’s a lull in your conversation Leviathan turns and tentatively asks, “Hey...why don’t you try letting me help you out?” He can feel your refusal before it comes so he hurriedly adds “Please! I just- you stress yourself out so much and what good am I if I can’t even help you at all?”

Is it his impassioned plea for you to let him in? Is it his willingness to obviously step out of his comfort zone? Have your walls just conveniently crumbled at this moment? Whatever it is, you don’t have it in you to reject him when he’s so open about wanting to help you (and the pain it’s caused him not to). Either way, you sigh and give him a few, small tasks that you think you both could manage him having and he swears to do them well!!

Truly opening up to him about the reason why you were so hesitant on letting him help takes a while, and he doesn’t exactly pick up on it himself. Once you do tell him, though, in your journey to help yourself let him in, he holds you a little tighter and mumbles that he’ll never do that to you. Levi knows better than anyone that words can only mean so much, but he’s grateful for the chance to prove it to you. He won’t let his Henry down!

Satan

Satan is perceptive, and he knows how to talk about emotions. He might even have suspicious about the root cause before you even think about letting him know what’s up. He’s already started doing a few things for you - carrying each other’s books, for example. Small acts of kindness to get the both of you through the day.

However, one thing Satan isn’t good with…..is dealing with emotions head-on.

He spends so much time keeping his own under lock and key! After doing his best to keep the most calm, analytical front he can, Satan tends to uh….forget about the emotional part of emotions.

So. When he asks why you won’t let him reciprocate in the relationship, attempting to display that he just wants the two of you to be on equal ground and he is worried about you, he sort of comes off...as cold. And like he’s accusing you of feeling a certain way. He definitely presents it as “I’ve noticed you feel x and i think y would be helpful for us to fix it” rather than “how are you feeling? What is causing you trouble? How can i offer assistance in a way that translates well to you?” And if that doesn’t bring back some memories…

He feels awful, and at the end of it all you’re crying (or presenting your stress and bad memories however you normally do) and he still doesn’t know how to fix things. Counterintuitively, he looks through his books for an answer, and it takes him a few days to realize that’s what got him into this mess.

So he goes to you directly and, albeit a little clumsily, apologizes and asks what he can do to help you through this. You say that’s just the problem - you don’t want his help - and he sits next to you and just asks why? The two of you wind up talking for hours, sitting next to each other and just...really talking. You aren’t the only one feeling vulnerable - Satan is talking about his emotions full-on rather than through a scientific lens and it makes him just as nervous as you are.

Satan doesn’t get into arguments with you. He runs from the possibility because he’s worried about what his wrath could do to you. But he promises you that he could never hold anything against you, especially something like asking him for help. It’s an honor that you let him this close, and he can only return the favor in kind. He hopes you have enough faith to believe in him until he has the opportunity to prove it beyond a doubt.

Asmodeus

Asmo does things for people without asking. He gives unsolicited makeup and relationship advice, he offers to touch-up any products you may have on, he lends you clothes just because he felt like he should…

The thing is, Asmo will start before you even have a chance to ask him to stop. He’ll start before you’re even wondering if you like him. And at first, you’re ok with it. Well, you’re not, but you can decide he’s just testing the waters or that this is some weird demon way to earn your friendship or tell you he considers you a friendly presence, like cats. But it still rubs you the wrong way.

However, Asmo always notices that you...aren’t receiving it the way he wants you to. He invites you out and leaves you an outfit on your bed, and you come out wearing something entirely different. He leaves you a bouquet of flowers, and suddenly the dining room has a new bouquet in the center of it. (and you always avoid his gaze during those dinners, which is totally weird.) It’s almost like you’ve recognized the face he makes when he’s about to touch up your makeup, because you pull out a pocket mirror and check yourself over before he even has a chance to!

Are you leading him on? He doesn’t think so, but you are quite literally the only person he can’t literally charm the pants off of, and he isn’t quite sure how to navigate the signals you’re giving him. You seem fine with the relationship - it felt pretty genuine to him, and you looked thrilled when he made the romantic moves on you - so what was going on?

He finally caves and asks when he’s going through your wardrobe, sifting through it with you on the bed to make room for a shopping spree the two of you had been planning, and sees all the outfits he’d bought you hanging, still in their outfit bags. Some of the bags even had DUST on them!

He turns around and puts on a gentle voice. Though Asmo doesn’t know what’s happening, he can feel the air in the room shift and he knows he’s encroaching on some sensitive territory. “Hey, do you not like when I give you gifts? I haven’t been able to understand what’s been bothering you, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable…”

He does NOT like the way you turn your face away from him, but he sits a respectable distance away and keeps his hands in his lap. Asmo is as good at genuine advice as he is at gossip, so it isn’t hard for him to get you comfortable enough to open up to him. You don’t have to tell him everything at once - he’ll listen to whatever you’re willing to tell him, letting you lean against him when you’re ready.

Asmo is known for being petty, but you bring out sides of him nobody knew were there. He’ll swear up and down that he’d never turn your good heart against you - after all, it’s one of the many things he loves about you - but he does understand where you’d get that impression. If you’ll let him prove it to you, he will - and he’ll start by only pestering you to let him buy one outfit for you on that shopping spree!

Beelzebub

Listen. Beel is a generous soul (for a demon) ((to those he really loves)). He just doesn’t ever really find himself in possession of anything worth sharing. Really, the only thing he is ever in the possession of is food. When he isn’t at his sports practice, working out or studying, he’s eating, and he’ll gladly share his food with you.

Oh? You don’t want it? He gives you a confused look - he’d ask if you were feeling well if he hadn’t eaten lunch with you just an hour before - but shrugs, his growling stomach winning over his concern. It’s not like you’re skipping meals, anyway. It isn’t until you get hurt helping him work out and refuse to let him pick you up to carry you to medical attention that he gets VERY concerned.

He feels awful enough as is. It was his fault you were even there - he just wanted to add more weight to his workout. (And, he won’t admit it, the idea of using a bench you were sitting on to lift over his head may have been a bit overkill. But he saw that little spark that said ‘that isn’t possible but man i wish it was’ when you saw it happen in that show and mmmmmmaybe he wanted to impress you. How was he supposed to know Mammon had broken it and left it there?) He could practically feel the pain in your ankle from the sound it made, and you were clutching desperately to your shin, wanting to press on the wound but knowing it was a bad idea. MC, there’s no way you can walk on that, why aren’t you letting him help?

The guilty puppy face he’s giving you is making the whole situation worse. It’s taking everything you can not to snap on, from the overwhelming pain in your ankle to the negative thoughts racing in your head to the knowledge that you’ll have to give in eventually. Finally, you face him head on and decide to just rip the band-aid off. “I don’t have the best experience with letting people do things for me. If you’re expecting to use this against me, I’m going to be out of commission for a while, so remember that.”

He is. So confused. Are you really mad at him? What are you talking about? It’s not that he’s stupid - because really, he isn’t - this just kinda came at him from left field and he does not know what to do about.

“What? I’m worried about you, MC, and there’s no way you can walk on your ankle. Come on, please let me take you to get help. I won’t mention it ever again if that’s what will make you happy.”

So maybe it takes a while to get to the nearest infirmary, and maybe he’s going extra slow so as not to jostle our injury, and maybe in the meantime he’s being so contemplative and quiet that you have a heart-to-heart. Beel’s too genuine not to trust him when he swears he’d NEVER use your kindness against you, but he understands it’ll take a while to show you.

Belphegor

So. Um. This is awkward.

Belphie is a smartass, and he’s the youngest and used to getting his way. He’s definitely the type to dig his heels in and fight dirty in an argument, just because he’s used to winning. He’s also sadistic and has plotted with you to use his brothers’ weaknesses against them for fun. So he gets it. He totally gets why you would think he’d do it. Honestly, that’s basically what he did to free himself from the attic, only with more violence involved. He gets it.

Since Belphegor hasn’t exactly been the nicest to you in the past, he isn’t about to make you pity him with words like “yeah, of course you wouldn’t trust me after what I did to you…” First of all, on the off chance that it’s completely unrelated, he doesn’t want to put that idea in your head and give you a resentment you never had, but also he’s getting a hang of this redemption thing. Yes, on an average day he’s still a bratty, selfish little shit, but he does show you how sorry he is for using you and hurting you. It shows in the way he checks up on you in situations he knows you’re uncomfortable in, in the way he cares for you in that gentle way that’s so subtle you wonder if he’s even actively doing anything. (He is - offering you the best spot in a blanket nest, suggesting your favorite meals when the brother on dinner duty needs ideas, little things - and you both know it.) But how does he repent for something he doesn’t even know if he’s doing?

The way you stop cold when you peek in the kitchen and see him (and Beel) cooking the dinner you just complained about wanting hurts. The two of you have a stare-off for a moment, and Beel gets the message to slide out of the room. Belphegor clears his throat.

“What do you want?” You ask with narrowed eyes. Ouch, way to be a Lucifer. He instead says, “Nothing. I just wanted to do something nice for you.” “And you don’t want anything in return?” “Have I given off the impression that I would?”

You sigh and step into the kitchen to wash your hands, asking if he needs help since Beel left. He grabs your wrist. “You’re welcome to keep me company, but I want to do this for you.”

He doesn’t like you looking at him distrustfully, but is relieved you sit at the counter instead of leaving. He wants to ask you what’s up, but something is stopping him - he ignores that what’s stopping him is fear that you’ll have another thing to add onto the list of the unforgivable sins he’s committed. If you feel like telling him, he’ll listen - but until then, he’ll go back to quietly trying to prove his worth to you, hoping one day you’ll see that it’s genuine and let him give you all the good things you deserve.

[blzzrdstryr]

Galatea

Yandere(?) Albedo x gn!reader

Wordcount: 2410

CW: Panic attacks, hallucinations, slight dehumanization.

...and his creation was so beautiful: silent and non judgemental, pure and demure, it would endure any of his whims of love and passion.

Albedo looks calm as usual as he scoops the honey from the beehive, even though he doesn’t wear any protection; Bees are angrily buzzing nearby, but otherwise not attacking him. It would look strange to you if you didn’t know the answer: insects are not real. The alchemist created them, turning pure slabs of carbon, water and organic matter into tiny fuzzy bodies, as you watched the scene with wide eyes, one moment and a non-living becomes living. He commented on the whole process and while you tried your best to listen to him there were so many scientific terms and jargons in his speech that after some time you zoned out, preferring to observe the birth of insects instead.

There are bones and flesh and organs growing and fusing together. They writhe and convulse as blood starts to fill them. Whose body is it?

“Is this for examination too?”, you remember that Albedo was collecting honey several days ago, albeit in much lesser quantities, and when you asked what the alchemist was doing, he said it was for comparative analysis.

“Well, you could say that” alchemist looks at the full jar and closes the lid, “Previous analysis showed that this honey has the same compounds as the natural one in the same proportions and isn’t dangerous for consumption”. You nod, urging him to continue - even though Albedo isn’t the chattiest person, you noticed how talkative he becomes when you ask him for explanations.

“Smell and taste are usually dependent on the composition, but there is always a place for exceptions, so I decided to conduct another experiment, one that needs your help”

You raise eyebrows - alchemist, despite actually enjoying your company, usually didn’t disclose much of his work :“Is that so? How can I help?”

Small smile appears on his lips, subtle and controlled, “I want you to taste it”. He looks happy.

You have seen that smile long before. You can’t remember where.

You hate sweets, but there's something stopping you from declining. It's bone-deep and chilling, woven into every fiber of your flesh. You can’t get out the needed words, even if you wanted, with your lips somehow shutting tight at the mere thought. There's something stopping you from saying "no" to Albedo and you assume it's gratitude.

***

The honey turns out to be as sickly sweet as the one from the real bees. You frown, as you take another sip of tea, trying to wash down the saccharine taste from the tongue. Albedo sits in front of you and scribes something in his notebook, throwing occasional glances at you from time to time.

“It seems that we’ll need to keep this secret from Klee” you muse, no longer tasting the nectar on your tongue.

“Why so?” he asks, still writing - his handwriting is too small for you to see from this distance. You could stretch your neck to have a better glimpse, but it would be rude to do, so you refrain, curiosity still nipping at you.

“Well, you know what a big sweet tooth she is, and if she learns that your bees don’t sting...”

“But they do sting, just not me”.

“Why?”

“Bees were created with my will, so they just can’t. It’s against the nature of alchemical creation to oppose its creator”

You hum, processing the new information and guessing how far he would teach you that in your own alchemy lessons. You are far behind Sucrose or Timaeus in your studies, still stuck on basics, but Kreideprinz doesn't look displeased or bored with you. In contrast, mentoring you is something he really likes, judging by the rare smiles he allows himself to show. He proposed to teach you one day and you couldn't find it in yourself to turn him down.

You thought it was strange at first how the recluse seemed to favour you, but then as you familiarized yourself with a man you realized that he liked all things unseen and unheard before and your selective amnesia must be the one.

There are large gaps in your memory, but you can remember some small moments - peeking into a cave and plunging deeper into a forest out of curiosity, spending hours in the library, completely captivated by the book before you, feeling satisfied from finally solving an advanced math problem.

None of the memories include people.

It's an identity forming memories, Albedo theorized when you shared your concerns, experiences shape who we are, [First], and maybe that's why you retained them, they define you.

Were you as reclusive as him then?

A bit later you see what Albedo was drawing: a familiar bird and decapitated head. You are disturbed - how does he know my dreams?

***

Mondstadtians are weird, it’s the first time you leave Albedo’s lab and side, deciding to take a quick stroll around the city and look around. Some look at you with wide eyes, as if you just grew a second head before their eyes, some shamelessly whisper things to each other.

The knight that was assigned to look after you for the duration of the walk is no better than them. He also treats you like some sort of oddity, with all that persistent glances and hesitancy to interact with you.

What kind of person old you were to prompt such a reaction?

Walking along the streets of the city you can't remember any of it. Books that mentioned amnesia and other memory related issues stated that visiting once familiar places can help with overall recollection. Walking along the streets of the city you can't recollect any of it, memories slipping past your fingers like water.

You can’t remember the blue cloudless sky above, or the deep clear lake of the same shade or the gentlest breezes playing with your hair. You can’t recall the bright red roof tiles, or the giant windmills that dwarf other buildings, or the statue of the anemo archont overseeing the city. You can't think of once being among the other idle citizens, of praying and worshipping Barbatos, of participating in the windtrace or Ludi Harpastum. There’s emptiness where a familiarity should be, a dull ache rotting and festering at the back of your mind - I don’t belong here, I never did.

You don’t feel like a part of Mondstadt, not even a single part of you does. There’s an invisible yet unbreakable wall separating you from other people. You can smile and chat and be all polite and nice, yet there’s always a certain coldness and caution others treat you with. You want to be both accepted and left alone, feel loved yet be distant enough to avoid any emotional hurt.

Of course, there are people who managed to get close to you - Albedo and Klee, with the former one being your official caretaker and mentor and the latter being as bright as the Sun, you doubt there’s anyone that couldn’t fall under little girl’s charms, except acting Grandmaster Jean.

That must be why you act so warm towards them, why you decide to bare your soul and feelings towards them, no matter how scary it can be. That’s why you play with Klee, engaging her in less destructive entertainment than the fish blasting and that is why you never refuse Albedo in any of his requests, be it a quick walk on a sunny day or assistance in his experiments.

***

A familiar dream.

You see a giant owl, it's yellow eyes piercing right through you. It's a majestic creature, with snow white fluffy feathers and razor sharp talons. Bird looks at you with all knowing eyes, and then spreads its wings, soundlessly flying in your direction. You dodge it, still marvelling at its grace, as the bird continues its way to the giant head laying behind you.

You turn back still tracing the bird's flight, eyes then turning to the bodiless head. It has the face of an aged man with wise eyes, it's lips move silently chanting. There's something hypnotizing in the chant - listen to me and you will now, listen to me and I will tell you, listen to me and you will learn things that he doesn’t want you to know.

You take a step, hand outstretched to touch it. It burns your skin, and the world around you darkens, all sounds stop and soon enough darkness consumes the bodiless head too, leaving you all alone.

A memory comes.

You're absolutely naked and shivering with Albedo hovering above you. He says something but you can’t understand the words, liquid(?) in your eyes and ears. You hear Sucrose and Timaeus in the background too and how excited they sound.

You turn your head, catching the sight of slabs of pure carbon, bottles of water, pieces of lime and ammonia solution and the rest of organic and inorganic matter lying around you.

There are no thoughts and feelings - you are nothing but an empty vessel that needs to be filled.

"Timaeus, bring the blanket" It's Albedo's voice, “Sucrose, check.. [First]’s temperature. I will observe them”

“[First]?”

“It’s a fitting name”

The memory ends. You wake up.

***

You wake up to Albedo sitting near your bed. It's not a rare occurrence with him frequently checking up on your health, but the memories of previous dreams make you almost jump when you see his silhouette again.

"Uhm, hello?" you still sound husky from sleep.

"Apologies for coming here, I heard your whimpers and decided to check if everything was alright". His face looks as impassive as ever, but there's a concerned tone in his voice. He must be extremely worried then.

"I..” you start but then trail off, unsure what to say. Is the revelation that you dreamt even true? Aside from the strange coincidence and sense of isolation that loomed over you, becoming a bit unbearable with each day, you had nothing to prove your nonsensical conclusion: you are not real.

“I saw a dream, of me lying among the lime and carbon and water” Albedo gives you an intense stare, eyes and expression completely unreadable: “it wasn’t just a dream, was it?”

A moment passes and then another and you feel even more stupid with each second to just come to that conclusion, not to mention saying it outloud. And then the most unexpected thing happens: Albedo nods.

“Yes, yes it happened to you” he suddenly sounds tired, as if he admitted a dark, dark secret, that it arguably is. A shock goes through you, as you start to gasp for air - it’s one thing to speculate and guess, it’s completely different to hear a confirmation.

You can’t exactly remember what happens next - you think you broke down right there and then, as alchemist awkwardly tried to comfort you. He was explaining how and why he created you - he thought that your creation would give him answers he was looking for, solve his internal conflict, and then he started to wonder how different artificial life is from the natural one and that’s why he decided to give you memories.

It was hard at first, he says, to push back the existing ones back and replace them with new. Make you believe that you were born too. Memories were his favourite thing to do, he had a theory you see, that people are majorly products of their environment, and he wanted to prove that with you. That’s why he decided to mold you into a person with traits he usually finds valuable.

In the end you found yourself nursing a hot tea mug with a few drops of calming concoction dissolved in it. Albedo is lingering around in his own disquieted fashion, as you rethink your whole life - can it even be called a life anymore?

You glance at the alchemist fretting around you, frowning, and unsure what to do, the warmth and happiness you felt upon seeing him replaced by disappointment and confusion. Albedo isn't the one who you thought him to be, Archons, you're not the one who you thought yourself to be!

Suddenly the way all others interacted you became crystal clear - they treated you like oddity because you were one. You remember Klee and how she always seemed to love calling you her "bestest special friend". No way they don't know of your origin. No way they will ever treat you like a person.

There's an ache when you think about Klee also turning away from you; She is a sunshine personified right now, spreading her kindness and enthusiasm without even trying, but who knows what will happen once she grows up, will she have a problem with her peers because of you, or she'll adopt the general public's opinion of you? The thought is almost enough to send you into a crying fit again. You want to run far away.

"I want to travel" you finally say, there's no way you can integrate into society when everyone knows what you are and will always see it before who you are. You want to run away and start anew somewhere far, so the rumors will never reach that place and no one will look at you with that wide eyed stare again. You say what you think about this whole situation.

"Please, don't" he says and you of course stop, legs no longer listening to you, "I understand you are distressed right now, but running away isn't the solution"

"But I will never be able to truly connect with anyone, they know it, of my birth, right? The whole city knows about it, right?"

"I know that you want to feel loved, I… We are the same - before your creation I felt the same loneliness, I couldn't bond with anyone save for Klee, but interacting with you was far more pleasant than expected. Relationships are needlessly tiring and I never understood why people focused on them so much, yet now, looking at you I can understand them. I love you, [First], you are perfect".

You still again, now stunted by his words and sudden love confession. It's all so sudden and strange and confusing and you are too tired and too shocked to deal with this, so you decide to distance yourself. "I can't love you in return"

"But you will"

"Why do you think that?"

"It's against your nature to oppose me in anything"

Note: Galatea is an ivory statue created by Pygmalion, who later fell in love with it. The head in reader's dream is decapitated Mimir, a figure in Norse mythology who is known for his knowledge and wisdom. His decapitated head was reciting secret knowledge and giving counsel to Odin.

[asmo-ds]

I've seen alot of headcanons about Simeon turning into a demon, but how would everyone react if Luke managed to turn himself into a demon 🤔 Like maybe he didn't amount up to Celestial Standards (I headcanon the Celestial realm is kinda weird due to the events of the anelic event) and then he made some type of minor violation and they kicked him out of heaven to avoid the possibility of him growing up to be undesirable in the Celestial Realm

When a Child Falls

Luke-centric ANGST & FLUFF

Warnings: Pain, falling from heaven, Luke hurting :(

Summary: After failing to live up to the standards of his superiors Luke is kicked out of the Celestial Realm and becomes a demon. Luckily for him the exchange program had given him so many new and old friends who wanted nothing but to help the poor child despite any bitter past they may have had with him

a/n: i was gonna do headcanons but then i was like what if i make a whole one shot about him falling and everyone helping him adjust to his new life and uh yea <3

Also this didn’t come out as angsty as I wanted it to but demon brothers comforting a fallen Luke >>>>>>>

He tugged on his own arm, begging for the elder angel to release him and give him a second chance, his once hopeful blue eyes filled with tears and terror. 

“Stop, I swear I just need more time, PLEASE!” Luke cried, punching the elder’s arm and attempting to pry his wrinkly hands from Luke’s small forearm. The elder yanked Luke’s arm harder, resulting in a distressed cry from the short blond.

Luke tried to steady his breathing as they approached the boundaries of the Celestial realm, where he was to be pushed off for his failure to earn his wings in a timely manner. The Celestial realm saw him as useless and decided they would be better off discarding a weak angel like himself.

“LET HIM GO, PLEASE! DON’T DO THIS!” Luke could hear Simeon’s breaking voice screaming at the elders who held him back from Luke to prevent any interference, “JUST LET ME SAY GOODBYE PLEASE,” he begged to which the elder finally agreed and the two embraced tightly. “Luke you listen to me, you get to the Devildom you go STRAIGHT to Lucifer, he helped his brothers and himself through his fall he can help you, please, trust him with at least getting you through the transition then you can hate them again or whatever you want, pl-”

“I get it, Simeon, I promise I won’t let you down,” Luke interrupted, tears falling from his eyes onto Simeon’s broad shoulders. 

“Times up. Luke come to the edge, stand here,” an elder guides him into position. 

Luke’s hearing starts ringing as his adrenaline kicks in, the fear of death and disappearing from existing overwhelming him. His breathing grew fast, and before he knew it, he felt a push and wind pounding against his skin as he fell, and fell, and fell, until he saw the Devildom soil and he tensed, preparing for the worst.

Instead of hitting the ground he hears a fwoosh and finds himself caught in strong arms.

“Luke! What happened, where is Simeon? A young angel like you shouldn’t be down here all al-” Lucifer starts questioning the angel, concerned to see the small boy falling from so high. He was interrupted by a cry of agony, Luke pushed away from Lucifer, doubling over and screaming as the pain began to set in.

Lucifer recognized the transition immediately and how badly it hurt his brothers, so he gently approached the young boy, who glared at him with teary pained eyes, and he murmured a spell, before darkness washed over Luke.

- 

His innocent blue eyes fluttered open, not recognizing his surroundings, he sat up quickly, wincing and hissing as his back was suddenly filled with unbearable pain. 

Oh that’s right, I fell. They pushed me and now…His eyes snap open, remembering the feeling of falling, but nothing that happened afterward.

“I have… to find… Lucifer..” Luke spoke to himself, taking short breaks between every few words to take a painful breath, feeling his ribcage expand and contract as his wheezing continued.

“I’ve already found you, Luke, you’re in one of the bedrooms of the Demon Lord’s Castle. Please lay back and take off your shirt, your back is bound to be in a lot of pain, this serum will help.” The blond flinches as Lucifer rises from a chair next to the bed where he laid. 

Luke raises his arms and let Lucifer take off the shirt before laying on his stomach.

He hears Lucifer’s breath catch in his throat as he stares in horror at Luke’s back, where wings were starting to form, dark and mangled with feathers tangled and in need of a cleaning.

So like that, Lucifer kept Luke safe and took care of him whilst the other brothers prepared a room at the House of Lamentation for him to stay.

-

“Luke, I’ve brought you some tea and cake,” Barbatos walks into the bedroom carrying some snacks and drinks for the injured boy.

“Thank you Barbatos, I missed your cooking,” Luke smiles slightly before taking a big bite of cake and groaning. “Like, I really missed it-”

“Yes, Barbatos makes splendid food, which is why I keep him around!” Diavolo winks, nudging Barbatos with his elbow a bit.

“Actually sir, you only keep me around because no other demon has been able to keep up with your antics-”

“ANYWAY, Luke your wings look like they’re growing in nicely, and so do your horns,” Diavolo walks over to examine Luke’s new form. “You’ll probably be in a lot of pain for at least a few more days, but if you want to get situated into your new home we can let you go and just check in on you everyday.”

“Uh… I don’t want to intrude at the House of Lamentation, if it’s going to be any sort of burden to them-”

“Nonsense, my brothers and I are glad to take care of you and take you in, you experienced the same fate as us, albeit for different reasons, but still, we know your pain and we want to guide you so please, Luke, let us help you,” Lucifer places a reassuring hand on Luke’s shoulder as he says this.

“...Okay, BUT no calling me a chihuahua- GOT IT?!” Luke pokes Lucifer’s chest aggressively and earns a hearty chuckle from him.

“I agree not to call you a dog anymore,” Lucifer laughs out, “though I cannot speak for my brothers.”

-

“I can’t believe the chihuahua of all people got kicked out…” Mammon says, still in shock that the angel who had been so determined to make people smile just a year before during the exchange program had somehow managed to get himself thrown out of heaven.

“I remember when I almost didn’t earn my wings in time,” Asmodeus shudders at the memories of being threatened with exile and constantly pushing himself way too hard, “I got so many wrinkles from the stress.”

“Luke makes good food, I’m glad he’s staying with us.” Beel’s mouth was watering as he and Mammon moved a dresser, finally finishing getting Luke’s new room in order.

“Oi, try to be sympathetic when he gets here Beel. He may be a little annoying kid but he’s going through what we went through,” Mammon scolded his younger brother, an uncomfortable silence taking over the room as each and every one of them remembers the pain they were in as their bodies morphed into those of demons.

“God is such an asshole…” Belphegor mutters, getting extremely angry the more he thinks about it.

Luke had done nothing wrong, Lilith had done nothing wrong, so why? Why would he keep getting rid of the most determined of his angels over such insignificant things?

Suddenly all their phones go off with a text from Lucifer saying he and the boy would be arriving soon. They all gathered in the entrance hall, waiting for Luke to arrive. The front door creaked open, all of the brothers standing up straighter and nervous as Lucifer stepped through the entrance with Luke just behind him. 

The brothers all gasped quietly in shock at the state of Luke. He was pale and thin and the look of complete and utter despair in his formerly innocent eyes filling the room with a depressing atmosphere.

“H-hey there Fido- I mean- Luke, how’re you feeling?” Mammon tries to start up a welcoming conversation, getting a nasty look from Lucifer, who Luke was clinging to for dear life.

“Luke! As soon as you’re feeling able to, what do you say we bake something together?” Beel smiles sweetly, most of them getting nothing but nervous looks from Luke in response to their questions.

“I’m just going to help him get settled in. Satan you’re in charge of everything else around the house while I take care of Luke and my own paperwork.” Lucifer guides Luke up the stairs.

Satan rolls his eyes but mutters a small “fine,” before the two head upstairs to the attic, where they’d set up the room to look just like the dorm he stayed in at Purgatory Hall.

“Oh wow, it feels like I’m back in the exchange program,” Luke chuckles a little, clearly faking any sort of joy.

“Luke,” Lucifer kneels down, “you are one of my brothers now, you have nothing to fear, and Simeon will be able to visit at some point-” His attempt to ease Luke’s worries is interrupted by a loud sob.

“Don’t you get it?! Michael and Simeon will never look at me the same, ever again!” Luke wails, using his sleeves to wipe the tears that streamed down his face. “All I ever wanted was to impress them! To impress God and make humans happy and protect them! But now my natural instinct to hurt humans ruins any chance of me becoming the person I’d always thought I’d be!” Luke falls to his knees, sobbing and wheezing, his vision becoming blurry as a panic attack hits him like a truck. He can barely hear anything except for Lucifer calling out a name, and all he could make out was that it wasn’t his own name. A dark figure walks into the room and Luke hears muffled voices for a minute before he is suddenly extremely calm, his eyelids growing a bit heavy and he feels exhausted.

He then realizes someone was holding him and murmuring some sort of spell, causing him to panic once more, but this time he was perfectly aware and just jumped up ready to fight.

“Hey you dirty demon! Don’t use your dark magic on me or else I’ll-”

“Pfft hahaha,” Belphegor laughs hard, tears threatening to spill from his eyes, “you still look like a chihuahua when you get annoyed!” Belphie teases and Luke blushes, before running at Belphie and tackling him, leading to a wrestling match on the floor as Lucifer stands by and watches the two of them closely, to ensure nobody got hurt under his watch. 

-

Dinner was the worst, to be honest. Luke had asked Lucifer if he could cook to say thanks for taking him in, but now he sat awkwardly and all of the brothers remained quiet, watching his every move and watching him like he was an injured little puppy.

“I-is the food not good?” Luke questions looking around nervously.

“AH- no its great Fido- LUKE, ah jeez I’m getting a headache this is so hard to adjust to,” Mammon slams his head on the table, earning a glare from Asmo and Satan who he sat between.

“Anyways, I know you’ve been to the Devildom before and don’t really need a tour BUT you’ve only seen the tip of the iceberg, there are so many more places to go!” Asmo smiles widely at Luke, “So let’s go together soon, okay?”

“Okay!”

“Ooooh Luke, you have to tell me what Celestial Realm video games are like, GAH I wish we had waited to start a war until after the invention of video games. Anyway I got a new one so I can show you a Devildom game and-”

“Shut yer trap Levi,” Mammon leans over the table to attempt to cover Levi’s mouth.

“But let the GREAT Mammon show ya all the best spots in town~”

“NO-no do not take the child Gambling, Mammon,” Asmo smacks him.

“Asmo for all we know you’re gonna scar him and take him to a strip club,” Belphegor smirks, knowing he just started a war.

“I WOULD NEVER, COME HERE YOU BRAT,” both of them in demon forms chasing each other around the house and screaming.

Suddenly everyone hears a child’s laughter and looks at the blond who had barely even smiled since arriving.

“We can try to do everything you guys want to show me,” Luke smiles. Everyone lets out a sigh of relief seeing that Luke was feeling more comfortable around them. “Um, question though… how do I go in and out of my… demon form?” 

“HAH that’s easy, just relax and let the GREAT Mammon teach ya!”

“Mammon, not yet. Luke, I will teach you, but we need to wait a bit longer or else the pain of transforming will be unbearable for you,” Lucifer looked down at the disappointed boy.

“Oh, ok.”

“Don’t look so gloomy Fid-LUKE JEEZ LOUISE- there's a lot the GREAT Mammon can teach ya in the mean time!” Mammon stands up with a cocky smile, hands on his hips. “Think of me as ya new master and you are my apprentice!”

“NO do not think of him like that he will make you do his dirty work,” Satan says, hitting Mammon in the stomach.

“Thank you,” Luke looks at Lucifer, “thank you for taking me in, I-I know we don’t have the best past and I was super rude towards demons during the exchange program but-but I’m trying to change for you guys! Thank you!” Luke bows his head, tears falling down his cheeks. The knowledge that he can never go back to the way he was bringing on more tears, but they didn’t mind. They’d been through the same process. So silently they all comforted him and welcomed him into their home with  open arms.

[xxdragonwriterxx]

🔥Cuddlebug🔥

🐉 Song Recommendation: “Rain Clouds” By: The Arcadian Wild 🐉

~~~

Well, one thing was for sure, (Y/N) was fucked. Absolutely fucked. She tried not to let the horror show on her face as she listened to her Captain Levi’s orders, her blood roaring in her ears as only one sentence rang through her brain on a constant loop.

“We’re going to have to pair up and share tents tonight.”

(Y/N) had figured something like this would happen when a cart full of supplies had been crushed by a titan on their way to their breakpoint, but she hadn’t expected it to happen this way. She had expected to be sharing with Petra, keeping everyone separated by gender. At least, until she had seen the sweet ginger-haired girl glance at her boyfriend, Oulo, a look (Y/N) knew Levi hadn’t missed either.

It was at that point she knew she was screwed. She had no idea what she was going to do. She knew she would be mortified no matter who she was paired with, but when it was announced that she was going to be sharing a tent with her long time crush and Captain, she was pretty sure she felt her soul leave her body. What the hell was she going to do!?

She didn’t have any more time to think about it as Levi pushed off of the tree he’d been leaning on and approached her, jerking his head for her to follow him. He looked confident as he strode to the place where his tent had already been set up, but on the inside, he was a bit nervous. He hadn’t missed the look of horror that had flickered across (Y/N)’s face when he had ordered her to share a tent with him, something that made his insides clench painfully.

Levi had wanted (Y/N) for ages. She always made him feel so comfortable with her naturally quiet yet sociable personality, her sharp intelligence and quick observations never failing to impress him. He only ever felt anxious around her because he knew he felt something more than just comradeship with his squad member, his heart pounding every time she entered a room or flashed a smile at him. Even though he had been pissed off at the loss of one of the carts, he had been secretly pleased at the opportunity to share a tent with (Y/N), especially when he caught Petra eyeing Oulo excitedly, making it easy to pair himself with (Y/N) without seeming suspicious.

But that look on her face as he stated the order had made him nervous about this whole thing. What if she was uncomfortable? Wait, what was he thinking? Of course she was uncomfortable! She was being ordered to sleep beside her superior for fucks sake. Levi growled to himself in frustration. He hated how inept he was at wooing gestures and charming words, his personality better suited for threatening and killing without hesitation than comforting and flirting.

Holding the flap open for her, Levi allowed her to pass into the tent in front of him before following her in. It was still early, but all of the traps had been set, the food dispersed, and the horses taken care of. Levi’s squad had done their chores earlier than usual just in case they ran into more titans, Levi wanting his squad to be fed and energized in the event of a surprise attack. He sighed as he watched her look around the space, her eyes darting to look everywhere but at him.

“Oi,” Levi said, the young scout turning to face him as he came up to her, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. “Breathe, (Y/N). I know it’s shitty, but it’s only for one night. If you really are that uncomfortable though, I can always sleep outside the tent. Your choice.”

(Y/N)’s eyes immediately widened and she shook her head, her hands waving in front of her, causing his lips to twitch slightly at the cute sight of her embarrassment. “No, of course not, sir! I’m sorry, I’m just a little nervous. Sharing a tent with my Captain? It just seems a little…, strange?”

“I know what you mean,” Levi said with a nod. Despite his interest in her, he could feel what she was feeling. She was his subordinate after all, a member of his squad. And now, he was sharing a bed with her, albeit innocently of course, but it still left a strange feeling in his chest, as if someone had placed a weight there that was both heavy as an anvil and light as a feather.

“A-Are you okay with this, sir? I can always sleep outside if you want your own space.”

“I ordered this didn’t I?” Levi asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, but you only did that because the cart was destroyed. The last thing I want is to make you feel uncomfortable in your own room.”

Levi’s heart rate sped up a little, humbled by her thoughtfulness. “You're not making me uncomfortable.”

“O-Oh, okay. That’s good, I guess I can stay here.”

Levi nodded once before turning around to perform his bedtime ritual, (Y/N) turning in the other direction to give him privacy and do her own routine before bed. The tent was completely silent aside from the rustling of their clothes and the sound of the trees blowing in the wind outside. The silence made (Y/N) feel funny, like she felt both comfortable and awkward at the same time, his soothing aura making her feel calm while her embarrassment kept rearing its head to make her feel uncomfortable. Her roiling emotions made her want to let out a groan of frustration but she reeled it in, not wanting to have the Captain question her.

Levi wasn’t much better off, sighing quietly when he found her presence to be soothing but also wanting to bang his head against the wall when his feelings wouldn’t stop interfering, making his heart beat twice as fast and his brain overthink every little thing he did. He managed to relax a little when (Y/N) left to brush her teeth, giving him the chance to take a deep breath and shove down his doubts about this whole thing. She had said she was fine with him sleeping beside her, so he just had to take her word for it, no matter how many times his brain tried to convince him she was just being polite.

(Y/N) slapped her cheeks with water when she finished cleaning her teeth, cooling down her wired emotions and allowing her to calm down. She could do this, no matter her own doubts. She had to do this, because she knew that if she tried to change anything he would leave, forgoing his own comfort for hers, and she refused to let him do that. She was an adult, a soldier on the best squad in the military, skilled in killing huge man-eating monsters. She could sleep for one night in her crush’s bed without doing anything embarrassing.

When she reentered the tent, Levi was shirtless, making her cheeks burn like fire as she caught sight of his sculpted chest and powerful abs. When he turned around, she could’ve drooled as the muscles in his back rippled. She looked up to find him watching her with a slight smirk on his face, making her squeak in embarrassment at having been caught ogling him.

Thankfully, he decided not to tease her other than the shit-eating grin on his face as she strode up beside him, folding her clothes neatly before making her way to the cot in the middle of the space. Levi joined her soon after, sliding under the covers and dousing the lantern, throwing the room in darkness.

“Goodnight, Captain.”

“Night, (Y/N).”

Levi knew she was still awake, her back facing him, but he eventually felt her relax, her breathing slowing down and her body unwinding as the influence of sleep took over. The tension in his own body was released when he noticed her relax, a sigh of relief falling from his lips before he could stop it. As he lay quietly in the cot, he could hear the sound of (Y/N)’s soft snores and sleepy whimpers start to filter in with the noises of the wind and the animals outside, the sound soothing him further.

He was just about to drift off himself, ready to roll over to the side from where he was laying on his back when he felt (Y/N) shift. Levi choked on his sharp inhale, his eyes flying open to look down and see (Y/N) pressed up against him. His heart was in his throat at the sight of the pretty girl snuggled into his side, her arms coming up to wrap around his waist and pull him to her with a tiny grunt. Levi was too speechless to do more than let her move him, his breath coming out in short, quick gasps as she held him close, sighing happily and nuzzling her face into his chest. She finally stopped moving, her light snores picking back up again as soon as she was happily cuddled up with him.

Levi’s eyes were wide, his lips slightly parted as an innocent sense of wonder filled him. Never in his life had a woman ever fallen asleep beside him, let alone cuddled up to him affectionately, nuzzling his skin. He felt warm and tingly all throughout his body, a small smile curling on his lips before he even knew what happened. He was surprised by his reaction, his urge to pull her closer and snuggle deeper into her embrace. He had never craved intimacy before, usually opting to break someone’s wrist if they tried to touch him. But with (Y/N), he found himself wanting her to be closer, already surprisingly greedy for her warm touch.

Indulging himself a little, Levi leaned down and pressed a light kiss on her head before settling back into the cot, moving his arms from behind his head to wrap around her body and pull her closer against him.

“Sweet dreams, (Y/N),” Levi murmured with a quiet chuckle before falling asleep himself, wrapped up with the girl he secretly adored.

___________________________

(Y/N) groaned as she woke, the cheery sound of birds chirping filling her ears as she came back to reality, blinking the sleep from her eyes. Immediately closing them again at the  bright sunlight that assaulted them, (Y/N) yawned and stretched an arm up over her head, moaning quietly at the delicious feeling of her back popping.

“Sleep well, brat?” A voice said from below her, her whole body vibrating with the feeling of his chuckle.

“HUH!?” (Y/N)'s eyes snapped open, immediately awake, her head turning to see exactly what she had feared. Smirking at her, his eyes twinkling, was her Captain, his arms wrapped lazily around her shoulders. Her face immediately flushed a furious bright red as she realized she was sprawled on top of him, her leg thrown over his groin and her chest pressed against his. Her arms were wrapped around his waist possessively, holding him close to her. She let out an embarrassed squeak and shot away from him, her eyes wide and her hands flailing as she tried to fumble her way through an apology.

“O-Oh gods L-Levi, I mean, Captain, I am s-so sorry! I know I should’ve told you, but I didn’t because I was embarrassed and I overthink everything so I kept it to myself and I shouldn’t have. Now I’ve just ruined everything, with my stupid habit! I am so sorry Captain, if I had told you last night that I always end up cuddling whatever is next to me, I wouldn’t have invaded your space,” (Y/N) rambled, the words tumbling from her mouth before she could stop them, her mind frazzled and completely out of sorts in her embarrassment.

She eventually managed to finally shut her mouth, hanging her head in eternal mortification. At that moment, she just wanted the ground to swallow her up. She couldn’t believe she had been so stupid and selfish. This whole situation could’ve been avoided if she had just been honest with him, but she had decided against telling him, worried he would be anxious about sharing a tent with her if he knew she became very cuddly in her sleep. 

But now that was completely out the window, her traitorous body having drifted over to her Captain without her permission, ruining not only her chance at possibly ever having a relationship with him, but also her current subordinate/superior relationship with the stoic man. Fear flooded her system at the thought of possibly being reassigned, sent to another team for creating unnecessary tension within the squad. She wouldn’t put it past Levi to do something like that, wouldn’t blame him if he did. She had seen him do way worse to other people for doing a tenth of what she had just done. He had every right to be furious with her after touching him intimately without his strict permission.

A sudden sound in front of her had her head shooting back up, her eyes widening at what she saw, her hands even coming up to rub at her eyes, convinced her vision was playing tricks on her. She figured she ought to get her ears checked too, as the sound continued to fill the tent and her heart with warmth.

Levi was laughing. And not just his signature chuckle, he was genuinely laughing. The sound was quiet, but it was one of the most beautiful noises (Y/N) had ever heard. It made her smile brightly despite the fear and embarrassment in her gut, her whole body humming as she watched her seemingly emotionless Captain close his eyes and bring his hand to his mouth, stifling the chuckles.

When Levi opened his eyes again, he saw (Y/N) staring at him with comically wide eyes, a bright, shocked smile on her gorgeous face. He hadn’t meant to laugh, but he hadn’t been able to help it. She had been so adorable, curled up on his chest like that with her face buried in his neck and their legs tangled together. He hadn’t wanted to wake her, content to just analyze her pretty features as she snoozed, but also didn’t miss the chance to tease the hell out of her when the light from the rising sun eventually roused her. 

He just hadn’t been able to contain himself when she had started rambling on and on. Normally, he was the one fighting to retain his composure around her, not that she knew that, but the sight of her struggling to meet his eyes, her face aflame with a violent blush as she stuttered through an apology had made him feel full and warm. It told him that maybe he affected her in the same way she affected him, something he had always craved but never expected, the discovery of this knowledge like an unexpected gift. She tilted her head a little when he looked into her eyes, trying to read him.

Gods, she was breathtaking. Her hair was kind of a mess, not having yet been brushed in the early morning. Her eyes were a little red from sleep and her rubbing them, but they sparkled in the light that shone through the canvas of their tent, making her seem so alive. Her skin was even glowing, making her shine in a way that made his breath hitch. He was silent now despite his laughing a few minutes ago, his silver hues trailing over her before meeting her gaze. He noticed her swallow hard.

“So…, you’re not mad?” (Y/N) asked hesitantly.

“No, I found it amusing.”

“So I didn’t bother you too much? I didn’t keep you awake all night?”

“Quite the opposite really.”

His simple answer made her visibly relax, but she was still watching him warily, as if waiting for him to suddenly change his mind and give her a punishment, not that she’d complain, Levi knew. The tension in the air dissipated despite (Y/N)’s obvious lingering embarrassment, enough so that (Y/N) felt comfortable preparing for the day.

Levi followed suit, standing and moving over to where he’d folded his clothes neatly, efficiently transforming himself back into a proper soldier. As soon as everything was in place, Levi turned to find (Y/N) still getting ready, her back facing him as she pulled her boots on and adjusted the leather skirt of her uniform. Smirking to himself, Levi crept up behind her, relishing in her surprised squeak when he leaned down to her ear.

“I thought you were pretty fucking cute last night, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) gasped loudly and whirled around to confront him only to find him already leaving the tent. She saw him pause, his hand on the flap as he turned and sent her a wink before slipping outside, his loud, commanding voice ringing out over the field to order her fellow squad members to start the day.

 (Y/N) raised a hand and brought it up to her ear and the back of her neck, smiling as she felt the spot where Levi’s warm breath had fanned out over her skin just seconds earlier. If she didn’t know any better, she would’ve thought it was a dream, her stoic, cold-hearted Captain calling her cute. Her heart was pounding, her cheeks flushed with a little more than just embarrassment. Maybe she hadn’t ruined her chances with him after all.

~~~

A/N: Does anyone else fucking do this? I mean, I’m sure at least some of you do, but for some reason, when I sleep, I always cuddle whatever is next to me. Whether that be my dog, a pillow, a stuffed animal, a blanket, whatever it is, I will latch onto it at night. I actually wrote this story based on something that happened to me a few months ago when I was staying with a friend and I ended up cuddling her in the middle of the night, surprising her. It was a little less awkward for me than what was portrayed in the story because she’s my friend, but still, I felt a little bad wrapping myself around her all night  😅😂.

[sluttyminghao]

please | k.mg

w.c: 2.2k request: could you possibly do mingyu and edging? genre: smut alllll the way thru my dudes pairing: mingyu x reader (gender neutral) warnings: sub!mingyu, edging, oral (m. receiving), use of toys (vibrator, cock ring), use of handcuffs, slight mention of sexting a/n: this has been the one thing I've been thinking about for days,,, I hope you enjoy!

“Please let me cum, I’ve been so good for you”

His whines and pleas were music to your ears, and the sight was even better. He was currently laying on his back while you straddled his thighs, a vibrator held to his cock and his whimpers getting louder and louder by the second.

How he had gotten into this position you ask? Well, it had started once you got home that afternoon, and you had been waiting for this to happen for a while. Probably for longer than you liked to admit, but now that it had played out so nicely, you knew it was worth the wait.

Your relationship with Mingyu was very dynamic, in the sense that you both enjoyed being the dom and the sub. While Mingyu had said he preferred being the dominant, you knew that if you could coax him enough, he would be able to enjoy being the submissive once in a while.

You had teased him the whole morning before you had to leave for work; leaving soft kisses all down his neck and grinding against his half-hard cock, before getting up and leaving him to deal with a raging boner and load of desire for you.

Before you had even walked out the door you could hear him whimpering for you. You stepped back into the bedroom only to find said man sprawled out on the bed, stripped right down except for his boxers, and one of his hands palming himself through his boxers, a loud moan erupting from him once he saw you standing in the doorway watching him.

“Please...”

You smirk and walk over to him, your mischievous and playful eyes meeting his dark and lustful ones. Slowly placing a hand over the one he was using to palm himself with, he sucked in a breath and waited to see what you would do, albeit impatiently with the way he was squirming around under your touch.

“What do you want baby boy?”

The pet name made him whine as you continued your ministrations on his clothed cock, a small patch of wetness now seeping through from his pre-cum. He continued to whine at the way your hand was moving and how you were now nibbling and lightly sucking on his neck, the feelings sending him into euphoria. 

“Please let me cum”

He watched in horror as you removed your hand and gave his neck one final nip, moving away from him. You smirked at his crestfallen face, knowing that he was definitely falling into a submissive state, just where you wanted him to be.

“No, you can wait until I get home. And if you touch yourself or cum before I get home, you will be punished, okay baby?”

His whine that ended in a groan gave you all the indication you needed that you had done your job, and finally left the house to go to work, shutting the door softly behind you. Now that you were alone with your thoughts, your mind began to spiral with all the things you could do to Mingyu when you got home later that afternoon.

A few hours into your shift at work, you were finally able to sit down and check your phone and catch up on social media things. One thing, or in particular, many messages from one man, caught your attention almost immediately, swiping open the messages to a ton of whines and pleas.

[Gyu <3] 12:34pm: Baby,,, I need you so bad

[Gyu <3] 12:34pm: My cock is so hard right now, it’s so hard not to touch myself 

[Gyu <3] 12:36pm: Please, I need to cum so badly

[Gyu <3] 12:40pm: 1 image attached

You drew in a breath as you clicked on the photo and let it expand to the whole screen, and you felt a pool of arousal form in the pit of your stomach. It was a photo of his cock, standing up and an angry red, the tip starting to turn a shade of dull purple. You could see his slightly defined abs contracting and while you couldn’t see his eyes, you could see he had his bottom lip pulled in under his teeth, obviously trying very hard not to touch himself without your permission.

You quickly started typing out a response to him, knowing that it would drive him absolutely crazy, but would be effective enough until you could get home from work and deal with him yourself.

[You] 1:02pm: Aw does baby boy want to touch himself? Make himself feel good? Why don’t you touch yourself for me then baby, but if you cum you will be punished when I get home. Understood?

His reply was almost immediate, a ‘yes’ and a quick photo he had snapped of him finally wrapping a hand around the base of his cock, pleasure evident across his face. A smirk pulled across your face as you glanced at the time at the top of your phone; only a couple more hours until you could go home and see how fucked out Mingyu really was.

You hadn’t even been able to turn the key in the lock of the door before you could hear his whimpers. Turning the key lightly, you let the door open with a soft thud, before shutting it and toeing off your shoes and peeling your coat off. The whines got louder the closer you got to the bedroom, and you couldn't help but peek in to see how Mingyu was doing, and you felt even more arousal pooling throughout as you watched him.

He was completely bare now, having stripped off his boxers hours ago. His cock was still red and hard, and he was thrusting furiously into his hand, trying so hard to make himself cum. You quietly opened the door to stand close to him, him not having realized you were home as he was too immersed in his pleasure.

You watched him carefully, his face contorting into one of pure pleasure as he had begun the build-up to his orgasm, his chest moving up and down rapidly and his hips bucking into his hand to meet the thrusts. You quirked an eyebrow as he finally came, long white spurts of cum covering his chest and stomach. As his breathing slowed, he opened his eyes and practically screamed when he saw you standing there, a small smirk on your face as you bent down to his level, lips hovering above his.

“What did I tell you before I left for work baby boy? I told you not to cum, and now I have just seen you make a mess all over yourself, care to explain?”

He was whimpering now as you took his still half-hard cock in his hand and begun to pump it again, the overstimulation sending shocks down his spine. He took a few ragged breaths before managing to stutter out a response to you, something along the lines of “I’m sorry,,, couldn't help m’self” while his cheeks became a dark red hue.

“Well I guess I’ll have to punish you now won’t I baby?”

He whined some more, knowing that your punishments were always on the more extreme side, not that he complained. He watched as you opened the drawer in your bedside table, pulling out handcuffs, a cock ring and a vibrator. He gulped at the sight of the vibrator, knowing that if you used it, he would cum immediately.

“Move your hands to the headboard”

He did as you said immediately, hands quickly moving up so that you could cuff his hands to the headboard. Making sure they were secure, you tugged on them lightly before kissing down his neck and onto his chest. His breathing became more rapid as you went further down his body, before stopping right above his aching cock, now leaking precum.

You took his heavy cock in your hand, giving it a few pumps before sliding the cock ring on and making sure it was snug. He moaned out at the feeling; he would never admit it to you, but he really did enjoy being submissive to you. You always gave him the perfect amount of pain and pleasure, as well as the best aftercare.

The dull sound of the vibrator pulled him from his thoughts as he brought his attention back to you, eyes glinting with lust and mischief. You brought the vibrator to his nipples first, eliciting a loud gasp from him as you ran it softly across his chest, playing with the intensities for a bit to watch him squirm.

When you moved the vibrator down towards his thighs, you could see them shake with excitement. An idea had popped into your head, wherein you placed the vibrator on the tip of his cock without warning, pulling a loud moan from his lips.

“I’m gonna cum!”

You immediately pulled the vibrator away, watching as he thrashed on the bed at the loss of an orgasm. You laughed at the sight, his face now a rosy pink colour and his hands pulling strongly on the restraints. He opened his eyes to look at you with his lust-filled eyes, practically black at this point.

“Please let me cum, I’ve been so good for you!!”

You had been edging him for some time now, waiting until you could see his thighs clench or his abs contracting, before pulling away from him and watching him almost cry from how desperate he was for his release. His cock was extremely red now, and the tip a dark purple, streaks of precum leaking down towards the base.

He had tears streaking down his face also, the amount of times he had pleaded and begged to let you cum only to be denied meant that he was extremely sensitive and even the slightest feather touch to his cock would send him into a mad frenzy, chasing his release like a mad man.

“P-please,,n-need to c-cum,,,,”

His voice was strained as he begged once more, the vibrator on the highest setting at the base of his cock while you had wrapped one of his nipples in your mouth, sucking gently. You pulled off with a pop, and looked him right in the eye while moving the vibrator up and down his shaft, his face contorting once more.

“Why should I let you cum baby boy? You didn't listen to me before I left for work, so now you’re paying the price”

He sobbed violently as you held the vibrator to the tip of his cock, watching at how his body shook from the amount of orgasms he had been denied thus far. You finally decided to give in, pulling the cock ring off the base of his shaft and turning off the vibrator.

You took his cock in your hand and pumped quickly, moving your head down and pressing a quick kiss to the tip. You suckled softly on the head, his back arching off the bed almost comically. Watching his actions carefully, you gave him a silent motion to say that he could cum, right as you engulfed his cock and began to suck on his cock like your life depended on it.

As soon as you had motioned that he could cum, he immediately let go, hands pulling roughly on the handcuffs as hot ropes of cum filled your mouth, which never seemed to end. He was seeing stars and blacked out for a few seconds from how intense his orgasm was, and finally relaxed back into the sheets, head spinning.

When he came to a little while later, the handcuffs were gone, and his boxers had been pulled back up. Everything had been cleaned up and he thought that perhaps it had just been a figment of his imagination, until you walked back in with a bottle of water and some fruit on a plate.

You handed him the plate and the water which he accepted gratefully, before you sat next to him, hands fiddling with the hem of your shirt. He watched you as he munched on a strawberry, eyes back to their playful nature. 

“Thank you”

You immediately looked up in surprise, looking at Mingyu who had a grin on his face. You gave him a quizzical look, before he continued on, eating another strawberry and having a sip of water before continuing.

“I deserved that, I really didn't mean to cum before you got home i promise,,, thank you for punishing me”

A blush had crept up your cheeks, not even able to look the man in the eye before he pulled your chin up with a finger, making you look him in the eye. He smiled at you, canines showing prominently, before leaning in and giving you a kiss that was so full of love and passion it made your heart flutter. Just when you had laid down together and snuggled in, Mingyu turned to you once more, a giggle erupting from his lips.

“By the way, that was the best orgasm of my life”

[lord-explosion-baku]

Lying Is A Formal Pleasure

Yandere!Hawks x Pro Hero!Reader

Forced into a “relationship” to better your image, you agonize through the night as you pretend to be head over you heels in love with a douchebag. 

warnings: non consensual touching, light violence

A/N: I posted this a few months ago, but after a bad mental health night, I deleted it like a day later. But now I’m screaming over my oneshot inactivity and the 80 WIPs that remain unfinished, so I figured I’d post something that’s done fhjfv. :’D

Blinking flashbulbs and whispering onlookers flood your audio and visual spaces, forcing you to pause while you take a moment to gather yourself, swaying uneasily in the too-high heels you’ve been forced into. You’re close to being overwhelmed when Hawks places a smooth hand on the small of your exposed back, ushering you closer to his side. He waves to a camera flickering with a red dot, the one that tells the two of you that you’re live on air. The warm impression of his fingers on your skin offers you an insincere sense of security. You’re not as used to being on screen as your ‘lover,’ so you let him take the lead. It’s easier this way, as resentful as you are to admit it.

A thin woman in a red dress holds a microphone up between the two of you and asks if the happy couple has high hopes in regards to their award nominations. Hawks, always quick to flash a charming grin, leans into the mic and says, “we’re both just very honored to be here.”

It’s not like him to be so humble, especially not when he has an audience, but your publicist recently advised you that although his pride is fitting for his singular image, nobody quite likes a power couple who, in her words, “thinks they’re the shit.” People want to see bashful, blossoming love. They want to see you be together, grow together, and develop together. You have to be shy—show that you’re excited to be by his side, and he has to be supportive—happy to introduce you to the sensational side of being a hero. It’s all a facade, even your relationship, but if you stay true to your new role, your popularity will see a serious incline.

Hawks runs his hand up your spine and you get a chill when you realize that the reporter asked you a question: how long have the two of you been together?

“Oh-” you start, shifting to look up at your partner. Amber eyes bare down on you and you swallow dryly, trusting that you look enchanted, rather than sick to your stomach. If you were to be honest with her, you’d say, ‘too long,’ but it’s not your job to be honest tonight. You have to be delightful and charming, cute and coy. So instead, you timidly blink up at Hawks, cover your shy grin with your elegantly gloved hand while leaning into him, and say, “nearly two months.”

The number two hero chuckles, moving his hand over to your side to squeeze it a little harder than necessary. He’s telling you one thing: wrong answer.

“Well, she says two months, while I say three.” Hawks is all confidence and little to no self-doubt. In a way, he’s everything you want to be, and every time you think about it in that light, the more you seem to detest him. You hate that you virtually need him in this respect to get you where you want to be in your career. You hate that he’s living this farce up. “It took my little angel a while to finally agree to go on a date with me. Even then, I knew that we were meant to be together.” His eyes slide back to you, and his tone takes a dark edge that nobody besides you will be able to pick up on. “From the very first moment I laid my eyes on her.”

It’s not entirely a lie. Hawks had barrated you to go out with him for about a month before your publicist told you it would be good for your public image to have a pro—the number two pro—by your side. Apparently, you and him work well because of your quirk: siren. Her reasoning is that you sing just like birds sing. Hawks is a bird. Therefore, you and him should go hand-in-hand. The public aptly named your relationship birdsong and you’ve already done a photoshoot where you had to pose behind a golden birdcage where Hawks sat inside, gripping onto the cage’s bars, staring up at you while you had your lips pursed subtly, pantamiming a song. The irony of your situation is that there is a metaphorical prison in your fake relationship, but it’s not Hawks who sits in the cage. The second irony of your situation is that hawks don’t sing at all; they prey.

“Awwww,” the reporter whines in a shrill, albeit melodramatic voice, looking adoringly from you to Hawks, “I couldn’t imagine how anybody could ever say no to you! That must’ve put a damper on your ego! Poor thing.”

Hawks shrugs like he does—another thing you despise. You can smell the smugness wafting off his chest that seems to puff up as he speaks. “I knew she was just playing hard to get.” He winks at you, sliding his hand down to sit not so obediently at your hip. You feel him drifting towards your ass cheek, and you struggle to not change your fraudulent smile into a full on sneer. “And she knew I liked the challenge.”

The reporter’s eyes aren’t even on you when she asks, “really, how could you say no to this dreamboat? I certainly wouldn’t be able to!”

If you want him, you can take him, you think tartly as you maneuver your arm around Hawks. He makes a sort of low, sort of grunting noise when you lace your fingers through his heavy feathers, and you realize that this might be the first time you’ve actually touched his wings. You’re bitter to admit that the feel of them in your hands are soft to the touch—enjoyable, almost. They might be the most redeeming thing about him.

You tighten your hand into a fist and tug, softly at first, but when you feel him tense next to you, you pull a little tighter, enjoying the brief sadism break you allow yourself.

“I must have been too darn shy at first!” Your words are syrup dribbling over glass. You wrench your hand, twisting into Hawks’ wings. He clears his throat in an attempt to cover up a groan, his hold on your side worsening infinitesimally. “Or maybe I just couldn’t believe that the number two hero was actually interested in me. Honestly? I was starstruck! I thought I was being used for some kind of joke!”

“Hah…” Hawks’ thumb rubs circles in your back when you guide your hand along the stream of his wings and grab at a different bunch of feathers. He whispers, “take it easy, chickadee…’

But you don’t want to take it easy. Hawks’ cheeks redden a bit more every time you move your fingers through his wings. He must be incredibly uncomfortable and you take pride in the fact that, for once, it’s not you who’s suffering. You lean into his shoulder, offer the reporter woman a smile so sickly sweet, you can practically feel sugar coating your gums when you say, “now every day I get to spend with him is a dream come true!!”

One of Hawks’ eyes twitches when you give the tuft of feathers in your hold a final twist. He spreads his palms wide on your back, and slowly curls his fingers inward, pulling on your skin.

After a few more questions, the reporter notices Hawks glancing down to the large hall being used as the ceremony venue, and thanks the both of you for indulging the public with information about your relationship. Sending a final wink to the camera, Hawks guides you through arched doors and nods at a few other well-known heroes attending the ceremony. You sneak away when you think Hawks is about to get lost in another conversation, but when you slip into an empty lounge reserved for award nominees, he’s right on your heels.

Ignoring his presence completely, you fix yourself a drink at an unattended minibar. You swirl the ice around in your glass and finally turn to scowl at your partner. He looks off, or not very present, still smirking, but dazed. Maybe he tied his tie too tightly, and he’s blocking the blood flow to his brain. You grin at the thought of choking him out while you sip on your beverage. Hawks grins back.

Engulfing and consuming the space around you, he takes a confident step towards you. You feel nothing short of a shadow to a tree with his wings puffed out and spread proudly like they are.

“Nervous?” He asks, placing a hand on the bar as he leans closer to you. You give him a half-hearted shrug, trying to be nonchalant. Even if Hawks knows you're uncomfortable, you aren’t willing to show him an inch of fear.

“You shouldn’t be,” he goes on, staring at your lips. He watches you suck down your drink and clears his throat. “You were great out there.”

“Believable?” You ask sarcastically, licking your bottom lip. You reach out to stroke the inside of his wings, running your hands along his feathers teasingly slow, enjoying the sight of each row of his crimson plume twitch down along with your touch.

“Believable,” he chuckles. “I had no idea that I was your dream come true.”

You scoff and place your empty glass down. “Mhm, my everlasting, waking nightmare.” You bring your arm back to your hip. “I’m truthful when I can be.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up into a goofy half-grin. It’s off-putting. He isn’t any less sharp than usual, but there’s something about him right now that has goosebumps raising on your arms.

“C’mere,” he coaxes, grabbing your wrist. You snap it back immediately.

“Oh, please.” You push past him, intentionally brushing into his wings, and begin strutting away.

“You’re such a goddamn tease,” he rasps, hooking you sideways. Both of his hands curl around your hips, and you’re immediately pulled back against him. “Have I ever told you how sexy your back is?”

“Get off of me,” you say without enthusiasm, because it’s not the first time he’s gotten handsy with you in closed spaces. Call yourself jaded, but it’s something that you’re semi-used to. So, when he doesn’t let up, all you can do is roll your eyes and fetch your compact mirror out of your clutch. While you fix your lips, Hawks lays his chin on your shoulder. His eyes find yours, and though they’re looking straight at you, they are, at once, incredibly ambiguous and eerily hyperfocused. He squeezes his arms around your torso, then brushes his lips across your cheek. Against your stubborn will, your stomach flips when he plants kisses on your jaw and trails down to your neck. The scruff of his beard tickles your skin, making your shift around in his embrace. That's when you feel a stiffening behind you.

“Hawks, what the hell are you doing?”

“Shame on you-“ his breath is hot on your ear- “touching me like that on camera, baby? Who knew my angel could be so naughty…”

You jerk your elbow back into his gut.

“I never touched you,” you seethe, ready to actually throw hands, when he rushes you forward, pushing you against the bar so that you’re lodged between it and him. Hot blood floods your face when you feel him pulse against your ass, and it doesn’t help when he snakes a hand through the back opening of your dress, sliding around to cup your stomach. He pulls you back so his bulge rubs between your cheeks.

“You’re seriously crossing the line right now!” You push against the bar, trying to bump him back, but he crowds you with his wings, shrouding you just like the metaphorical birdcage you’ve been stuck in for two—three months. You grasp a fistful of his feathers and yank on them hard, but he only snickers in response.

“Oh, little dove,” he groans, rocking his pelvis against your ass. It’s like he doesn’t even hear your protests. “Fuck. How’d you know I like it rough?” He kisses the hollow of your throat and hums appreciatively when you reluctantly shudder in response. “You have no idea how badly I wanna slip my cock into you right now. Finally wipe that sour look off your face as I drive myself in, inch by inch.” His fingers move down to pet your pubic bone. You want to scream in defiance when you feel a flash of liquid heat pool between your thighs. He dips in between your folds and he croons. “Bet you’d hug me nice and tight too. You don’t spread your legs for just anybody, do you babygirl?”

“Certainly not for you,” you rebuke. You grasp your abandoned glass, smash it against the bar, and spin yourself around, swiping your makeshift weapon across the number two hero’s face.

There’s a moment of shocked silence that falls between you two. A streak of red falls from the cut on Hawks’ cheeks and falls in spots on the whites in between his tuxedo coat. He dabs at the wound and examines the blood on his fingers, then his chest.

He snickers.

“Oh man, I wonder what they’ll think about this.” He shakes his head, grinning. “What do I tell ‘em: we were getting a little too frisky in the lounge, or do I lie and say it was an accident?”

“You can tell whoever, whatever you want,” you mumble. You know you should apologize for the sanctity of your status, but seeing his blood is cathartic to you, in a way. At least, until he speaks again.

With a clever fox smile, smug as the king of hell, Hawks drawls out, “the rising hero, Siren, is unstable and shouldn’t be trusted by the public.”

Your eyebrows pinch together. Hawks’ grin crawls wider, contented by your reaction to his threat.

“I was telling her not to get her hopes up about the awards ceremony. ‘There are a lot of other promising heroes gunning for The Best New Hero award,’ is what I told her, and she lost it…”

“Hawks—“

“She came at me with a glass she broke on the bar. Honestly, I’ve been worried about her drinking habits since day one, but I didn’t do enough to help her with the issue. In a way, it’s my fault this happened.”

“It is your fault!” You stomp your heel and throw an accusatory finger into his chest. “You attacked me!”

“Who do you think they’ll believe, sweetheart?” Hawks takes your hand in his, brings the back of your wrist up to his mouth, and kisses it. “The new hero with a pretty face, pretty voice, but is otherwise unknown, or me? Hero numero dos: Japan’s most trusted.”

You glare at him and he loves it. He enjoys every minute he puts you through mental turmoil.

“I could tell them it was an accident,” he sings, looping an arm around your waist to briskly pull flush up against him. You let him, but keep your head turned so you don’t meet his gaze. He continues—“but you’d have to make it up to me, little dove.”

His wings fall over you, shrouding you closer to him. He presses his lips to your temple, but doesn’t kiss you—doesn’t even speak again. He’s waiting for you to ask how.

“I’m not going to sleep with you,” you say into his shoulder.

“You don’t have to,” he hums, the vibration of his voice buzzing down your neck, “we can just end your career tonight.”

“Hawks.”

“Don’t act like you’re not soaking wet right now. I felt that cunt, babe. Turns out, I’m not the only one who likes it rough.” He turns your head to face him. “You want me-“ he sneers-“and I didn’t even have to stroke your feathers to get you there.”

You close your eyes when his lips greet yours. The kiss is quick, but it lingers like old faith. If you let him in, he’ll stay there. You know that. But he’s backed you into a corner.

“You’re my girl,” he coos, “and I wanna be civil—I do, baby. You know I only want what’s best for us. But you’re gonna have to meet me halfway in order to get us where we need to be. Do you understand?”

Us...we…He throws those words around as if they matter. Then again, they do matter. They must, to him at least, but not to you. The only thing you really care about is me. Still, you nod.

“I’m gonna need you to say it, Siren.”

You sigh. “Yes, Hawks. I understand.”

“Good!” He chirps enthusiastically, any dark tone he previously took vanished. He spins you around to face the door that leads back to the hall. At first, you think he’s going to continue where he left off, but his hand finds its place at the small of your back, and he guides you forward.

“Now, let's go win us some awards,” Hawks says, bringing his hand down to pat your ass, “then we can make sure both of our dreams come true.”

[awkwardspontaneity]

Battle for the Sky

Link x GN!Sheikah!Reader

Part 4 of Memories of You

Prev | Next

Summary: Link and Y/n are called to Rito Village when a dark beast has taken over Vah Medoh and Y/n’s biggest fear finally comes to light.

AN: I finally finished this part. May have gone a touch overboard with this one it’s like 2500 words. I just had a lot of fun writing the battle and the characters. Its got a lot of fighting and mayybe a teensy bit of angst. I rlly like Revali so I had to feature him. bit of gore so just a warning

regular= present    italic= memory

Link stood atop Revali’s Landing, eyes closed as he enjoyed the cool breeze. There was so much to do before he could save Zelda, but after having to sneak through the Yiga hideout and his fight to free Vah Nabooris he relished this quiet moment. Even if it was only a few minutes under the light of the moon, he would take the time to think.

So many memories were coming back in a jumbled mess. Like pouring the pieces of a puzzle out of the box. But he hadn’t been given the full picture yet. So much of who he was was in those few precious moments he had with his friends, all he wanted was to have that back. At the very least he wished to remember those he had lost 100 years ago when calamity struck.

And yet, a part of him almost didn’t want to remember. The more he recalled his friends, the more he was reminded that because of his failures they had been lost. Trapped within their Divine Beasts with no escape for 100 years. Forced to watch as the very things they were supposed to use for protection wreaked havoc across their beloved homes. Maybe Revali had been right about him not being up to the task.

Revali.

The last time he had come to the Rito Village had been for a monster attack on Vah Medoh too hadn’t it.

“Impressive, I know.” 

Revali hovered softly before landing on the railing. A smirk stretched across his beak as he looked down at Link. Although this level of bravado was normal for the Rito warrior, Link suspected he was playing up his capabilities in response to their presence.

“Very few can achieve mastery of the sky.” So this was how the trip would be then. “Yet I have made an art of creating an updraft that allows me to soar. It’s considered to be quite the masterpiece of aerial techniques, even among the Rito”

At this point Link was discreetly looking for Y/n. They had said something about asking the village chief for the key to Medoh before running off and leaving him alone. He was sure that they had done this to avoid Revali’s complaints. Still, Link wished they would hurry and save him. Revali responded better when they were present. Or at least, he was more capable of tolerating Link with Y/n around to deflect conflicts.

“Now then,” Revali hopped down from his perch, drawing Link’s attention back to him, “my ability to explore the firmament is certainly of note, but let’s not- pardon me for being so blunt- let’s not forget that I am the most skilled archer of all the Rito. Yet despite these truths, it seems that I have been tapped to merely assist you. All because you happen to have that little darkness- sealing sword on your back.”

Link looked down with a clenched jaw. Hylia he wished Y/n would come save him. 

“There you are!” He felt a breath escape him at Y/n’s call. There was only so much of the Rito warrior’s ego one could put up with. 

Y/n skipped over to stand beside Link and gave the two Champions a grin, “I got Medoh’s key from the chief so if the two of you are ready, we should head up.”

Recali scoffed at the smaller Sheikah, waving his wing in a dismissive manner, “There’s no such need for the two of you to board Medoh. As a matter of fact your presence here is quite redundant, so why don’t you run along back to the princess like the good little hero’s you are.”

Link stepped forward to stop Revali from taking off but was stopped by Y/n placing a hand on his arm. “If you’re flying off to the archery range to get in more practice you can meet us back here. We’re fully prepared to wait until you feel ready.”

“Excuse me?”

“The chief told me you haven’t been able to enter Medoh for nearly a week due to this monster.”

“I assure you I can kill it on my own.”

Y/n sighed, reaching out to carefully lay a hand on Revali’s wing. “We only want to help. There’s no shame in working alongside your comrades. Besides, consider it a favour from us for your future help in defeating Ganon.”

“I suppose, I have no choice.” The Rito warrior hardly looked pleased with them forcing his hand, er, wing. The feathers on his neck were ruffled up as the trio looked tensely at the flying beast above. “I’m sure that even if I were to fly off at this moment, the two of you would still go on up to Vah Medoh and end up getting thrown over the sides.”

Y/n let out a nervous laugh at his snide remark and Link found himself wondering if the tightness in their voice was due to Revali being correct in his assumptions… or maybe something else.

------

Link and Y/n appeared on top of Vah Medoh in a swirl of blue light. They were swiftly met by Revali pushing them to stay hidden. He was quick to explain the winged beast, how it crawled across Medoh with sprawling legs. Y/n had mused about winged octopi only to be flicked on the head by Revali. 

As the trio emerged from their hiding spot the two Hylians found Revali had not given nearly enough detail on the horrific creature. It was as large as he had described, with muscled legs sprawling across the wings of the Divine Beast. Its body resembled a Lynel, thick arms ending in sharp claws. Possibly the most terrifying thing were the wings sprouting from its back. They were dark and feathered, each one dripping with malice that ran down its body before piling across the ground like muddy footprints. 

Link heard Y/n draw in a sharp breath as they crept along the edge in their approach. He reached out to place a hand between their shoulder blades, a simple motion they had developed in their journeys to signal they were with the other. Whether in physical danger or an uncomfortable situation, they would handle things together. He wasn’t sure how much comfort he could offer at this moment, but he’d make due with the promise to be by their side. Even if he was worried about the feeling of their shallow breaths against his hand.

After carefully making their way to the center terminal of the Divine Beast, Revali gave a quick signal before crouching to take off. As the wind picked up around the Rito, Y/n took in a breath before squeezing Link’s wrist and darting out from their hiding spot. 

“HEY SLIMEBALL!!”

Apparently that was extremely offensive to the beast because as soon as it located the small Sheikah it tore off after them. Y/n sprinted away sending a wink as they passed the terminal and Link. Y/n reached the first pillar and slid to a stop behind it right in time to take cover from the bomb arrows exploding against the creature's torso. Mangled wings came up to protect the beast from further blasts giving Link the opportunity to lunge forward and strike down its legs. He managed to slash through two of the muscular appendages before the creature let out a screech and spread its wings, and with them, an attack of razor sharp feathers. 

Y/n had come out from their spot behind the pillar, luckily just in time to slash a feather in half before it could hit Link. The duo exchanged grins before taking off to continue their plan. Y/n would lead the beast away with their faster speeds while Revali would circle above, waiting for the moment when the Sheikah would twist the monster around pillars where he could strike it with a volley of bomb arrows. Then while it wrapped itself in its wings for protection, Link would unleash a flurry rush, slashing away at its legs until they disappeared in a haze of dark smoke.

They pulled off their barrage of attacks until the final leg dissipated giving it one option. 

To fly.

Fortunately, they had planned for this, and Revali struck the creature before it could get far. It crashed to the ground with such a force, it shook the entire Divine Beast in the sky. Y/n let out a scream as they lost their balance, reaching out to grab the pillar they stood beside. He knew he had a goal to complete but, as he slashed away at the fallen creature, all Link could think about was how he wanted to rush to his friend's side. 

The creature seemed to sense Link’s hesitation because it began to spasm, forcing Link to jump back. It seized the moment and took off into the skies screeching as Revali circled too close.

“We must finish this quickly!” Revali dove closer to the two champions, being mindful of the writhing beast in the skies. “That thing is getting desperate, and I only have so many arrows left.”

Link gave him a terse nod as he rushed over to Y/n who was still pressed against the pillar. 

“Y/n.” Only a small hum escaped them, although there was a comfort in the way they leaned into his touch. “Y/n, I don't know what’s going on in your head right now, but we need you. Revali’s almost out of arrows and I don’t think I can take it down alone.”

Their hand curled around his, shaky but tight. “I’m okay.” He was sure neither of them believed the grin that pulled at their lips. “Its wings are the only thing it has left to attack with, right? Keep its attention and I’ll take them out.”

“Are you sure?”

“I have to be.”

He nodded, although his expression betrayed his concern, something Y/n took note of. They smiled softly, albeit weakly, and out their forehead against his. “Relax Hero, we can do this.”

Link sighed softly, pressing his head against theirs with a little more force. They pulled away sharing nervous grins before Link took off. 

Fortunately, the beast had been distracted by launching feathers at Revali, who had been swooping around it with practised expertise. Link gave a shout to signal he was ready for Revali to shoot down the monster and, with an audible scoff, the Rito notched his arrows.

With a thunderous crash the beast landed on Medoh once again and, fighting the urge to look back at Y/n, Link rushed forward with his sword drawn. Link slashed and chopped away at the creature's muscular arms, trying to force it to spread its wings. It took longer than he had hoped for with far too many close calls before wings spread, throwing sludge along with it. If it weren’t for the glint off Y/n’s twin blades, Link almost wouldn’t have seen the young Sheikah sprint past. Before the monster could register their presence, Y/n had hopped from its arm, up to the shoulder, and flipped over to land on its back. 

What came next was a flurry of silver blades and the tearing of malice dripping flesh. The monster attempted to rear back and reach Y/n with its arms but it was stopped by Revali and Link each attacking an arm, preventing it from being able to knock off their partner. 

With a final flourish, Y/n thrust both blades between the beast's wings. A harrowing shriek escaped the beast as it trembled from the blow. The malice surrounding it began to bubble and swell up. With a grunt, Y/n placed a foot against its back and tore their blades free. They looked up at Link with a grin but, just as they opened their mouth to shout, the monster exploded.

The moment Link uncovered his face, he was met with the sight of Y/n sliding off the edge of Vah Medoh. Link took off as fast as he could, watching as they scrambled for a grip along the edges but came up with nothing. Link hit the ground, sliding towards them with an outstretched hand. The two made eye contact and Link’s heart twisted at the terror within their ruby eyes. He felt their fingertips touch before Y/n was gone, their desperate cry as they slid over the edge carrying across the wind.

Link stared at his empty hand. He would have thrown himself over the edge after Y/n had he not seen the flash of blue following Revali as he shot after the Sheikah like an arrow from his bow.

The moments Link lay there waiting for Revali to return were spent forcing himself to breath while his lungs were crushed under the weight of guilt. He could still feel his fingertips brushing against Y/n’s. See the expression of fear that had torn the grin from their face as they cried out.

Wind swirled around Link, forcing him to sit up as Revali soared past him. The Rito landed on Medoh and, in a surprisingly tender moment, laid a wing upon the Sheikah warrior clinging to him like a koala.

Link was quick to approach the two, getting a glimpse of the way Y/n’s brow furrowed as they hid their face in Revali’s feathered chest. Noticing the way Link watched the two, Revali scoffed before grabbing at Y/n’s arms. “You’re not falling anymore, you can stop tugging at my feathers.”

Y/n mumbled an apology as they shakily detached themselves and stepped to the ground. They managed a wobbly grin that was interrupted by Link crashing into them. Y/n let out the faintest sob as they buried themselves deeper into his arms. Link tightened his grip, carefully pressing his nose into their hair. The two heroes held each other tightly, hoping to ground themselves in the other. To remind themselves that they were together still.

“Ahem.” The bubble popped around the two heroes as Revali looked on in barely hidden irritation. He tapped his talons against Medoh, sighing as the two looked at him with wide eyes. “As wonderful as it is that we are all, in fact, alive. I would appreciate it if you could use whatever it is you brought to seal away that creature.”

“Right.” Y/n stepped towards the terminal, Link’s hand still held tightly in their own. They pulled a seal from one of their pouches before mumbling a few phrases. Deep violet tendrils of malice swirled around, collecting in front of Y/n. The seal they held began to glow blue, spreading its own tendrils of light outwards. The lights seemed to dance through the air around them. Gathering together until they spiraled into the paper seal in Y/n’s hands.

“That should be it. Now can we please get off this bird?”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

[language-of-love]

aesthetic... 

Mild M / 1800 words / early relationship fun / AO3

“I think I need to stage an intervention.”

“Huh?” Patrick says over his shoulder, finding David staring into his closet with his hands perched pointedly on his hips.

“There has to be an addiction or something driving this. It’s the only explanation.”

“Driving what?”

He knows, but watching David get wound up is one of the things that Patrick first found made him go absolutely crazy about this man, so he never hesitates to find reasons to get him going. Especially now, when he’s in a position to act upon the impulses David’s actions conjure up.

“The blue, Patrick. All. Of. This. Blue.”

Abandoning his laptop where he’d been searching Netflix for a Sandra Bullock film they haven’t already watched, Patrick leans back against the dresser and folds his arms tight across his chest. He knows it thins the material of his shirt along his biceps and that, apparently, is something that gets David going, so he never hesitates to find reasons to do that, too.

“I just like the color, David. It’s not that serious.”

“Fashion is always serious.”

David looks actually offended, which honestly, just makes Patrick want to laugh. But he holds it in, albeit barely.

“How is me wearing a lot of blue any different than you and your constant stream of black and white sweaters?”

It’s an honest question. One he already knows the answer to, because this isn’t the first time they’ve had this interaction.

“This,” David says as he gestures down his body, “is an…”

“Aesthetic,” Patrick finishes for him. “I know. But why can’t blue just be my aesthetic?”

There’s a slight narrowing of David’s eyes and Patrick wonders why he’s never thrown that retort back at him before as it appears to have hit an unexpected target. He can feel his chest rising just a little as he notches a win on his belt, but then, David’s crossing the few steps towards him and he wonders if maybe that was a bit premature. Those perfect lips he knows every dip and curve of are curling into a knowing smile just as David’s hands reach out and take purchase of Patrick’s arms. His thumbs are digging into the muscle Patrick’s placed on display and in that instant, Patrick knows he’s about to let David win this round.

“An aesthetic is something you craft and nurture, perfect over time through nuanced choices and careful exclusions. Is that something that sounds familiar when it comes to…”

David pauses and lifts his hands from Patrick’s biceps, leaving Patrick embarrassingly breathless with an ache to have his touch return.

“This?” David continues, his long fingers gripping the open collar of Patrick’s button down and giving the material a gentle tug. Patrick has a fleeting concern over the cheap construction and the strength of the buttons, but that thought falls to the wayside when David steps even closer, his long, lean body pushing Patrick deeper into the dresser.

“No,” Patrick somehow manages to answer through the lump of desire clawing its way up his throat.

“Didn’t think so,” David whispers as he tugs Patrick forward by his lapel to meet his mouth for a kiss. It’s been about a month since the first time Patrick tasted this man on his lips and even now, after he’s lost count of how many kisses they’ve shared, he feels that same rush of excitement that was there that night in his car.

As David slips his tongue into his mouth, Patrick unfurls his arms so he can grab at his waist to drag him closer, an impossible thing that just knocks the dresser back into the wall and sends some of Ray’s knick-knacks flying onto the carpet. He can feel David’s fingers between them fumbling with his shirt buttons and a flash of heat surges up the back of his neck, the sudden flush making him feel lightheaded and in need of a breath or two. Prying his mouth free, he sucks in some air and opens his eyes, welcoming another surge of heat when he’s met with David breathing just as hard as his lips curl up into a smile Patrick can only categorize as fond. He smiles at David the same way multiple times a day, so he knows it well.

“You know,” David begins to say, leaning back enough to give himself better access to pop the first of Patrick’s shirt buttons free. “Just because it isn’t an aesthetic, doesn’t mean you don’t make these blue shirts work.”

Another button comes free and Patrick inhales sharply as David’s fingertips feather lightly down the skin he’s exposed as he begins to work on the next one. His belly is now in an anticipation spin cycle and he has to reach back and grab the dresser to steady himself a little.

“If you’re not offended by it, why are you currently taking it off?”

David’s fingers stop moving for a brief moment and Patrick immediately regrets the words he’s just said. But then, David’s chuckling under his breath and tugging the bottom of Patrick’s shirt up and out of where it’s still tucked into his jeans. He doesn’t say anything right away, just keeps unbuttoning until the shirt falls open and Patrick’s chest is completely bare.

Patrick might feel a little bit on display, but he can’t stop the flush that follows David’s gaze from his belly button all the way up to his neck. When he meets David’s eyes, they’re darker than he’s ever seen them.

“Because I like how you look in pink,” David says on a long breath that adds unnecessary heat to Patrick’s already flaming cheeks.

He doesn’t need clarification on what David means, knowing from how sweat is building beneath his arms and beneath the waistband of his jeans that he must be flushed all over. And thankfully, David doesn’t make him dwell in the embarrassment of that fact a second longer because David’s mouth is back where it belongs, tugging at Patrick’s lips and coaxing a groan from his throat as the cool metal of his rings press into the hot skin of Patrick’s back inside his shirt. As David’s fingers dig deeper into his skin, Patrick just clings to the back of his neck, letting that sense of desperation that David’s touch always seems to conjure take over once again.

Before he knows it, Patrick’s sitting on the dresser with David grumbling about how stiff his jeans are as he struggles to drag them down his thighs.

“Are you just going to disparage my entire wardrobe tonight?”

“Yes. Or you could help me? Unless you want me to stop and wait for Ray to get home and...”

“No!” Patrick practically shouts. “I’ve got it. Go put the thing…”

As Patrick frees his legs from the denim and his briefs, David shoves the chest in the corner against the door, the only solution they’ve found to delaying Ray’s inevitable intrusion the moment he arrives back home. David still has a bruise on his hip from the time last week he had to roll completely naked off the side of the bed and out of sight while Patrick threw a pillow over himself as Ray poked his head in to say goodnight.

When David returns to Patrick, he’s pulled his own sweater and undershirt off and Patrick’s traitorous blush is back full force. But David spares him this time and just steps in close again, cupping his cheeks as he nips playfully at his bottom lip. Their next kiss is deep and sensual, arms wrapping to bring their chests flush and relish in that heady feeling of skin against skin.

Over the next ten minutes, Patrick’s skin burns over and over beneath David’s lips and fingers, electricity sparking from David’s tongue down the inside of Patrick’s thighs where they are anchored over David’s shoulders. Crying out David’s name with a fistful of his hair trapped between his fingers as he comes, Patrick’s still struggling to catch his breath as David gently lowers his legs and presses kisses into the now sweaty hair beneath his belly button.

“You look like a fully cooked lobster.”

“Don’t care,” Patrick pants.

And he doesn’t. Not right now. Not while David’s looking so smug as he stands up and teases his fingers along the button of his own jeans. He’ll never admit to it, but even with his more olive complexion, he’s flushed, too - along his neck, on the apples of his cheeks, and even a little beneath the swirls of dark hair curling around his nipples. Patrick’s legs are a bit wobbly as he slides off the dresser, but he somehow manages to put one foot in front of the other and guide David backwards towards his bed with one hand on his hip and the other swatting David’s hand away from the now open front of his jeans.

“Unlike some people, I don’t need help getting you out of your pants.”

Patrick’s too naked and David’s too dressed and all of his focus is now on rectifying this imbalance. He’s got the jeans unzipped only halfway when David’s hands come up to steady himself on Patrick’s shoulders.

“Oh really?” David teases. “I seem to remember someone needing a tutorial to find your way around my Rick Owens just last week.”

“Fine, but I can handle jeans,” Patrick relents as he gives David a playful shove onto the mattress. It does take a bit of shimmying on David’s part and more than a few laughs shared between them, but Patrick does, eventually, get David out of his jeans and those long, perfect legs draped over his own shoulders where they belong.

They’re still naked, but thankfully covered by Patrick’s comforter when the door to Patrick’s bedroom smashes into the chest on the floor a half an hour later.

“Patrick, there’s something in the way of the door!”

“Ray, we’re not decent,” Patrick groans.

“Oh, sorry boys! Just wanted to say goodnight. Goodnight David. Goodnight Patrick.”

“Night Ray,” Patrick and David say in unison.

Patrick turns to David with an apologetic smile, but Ray’s back entirely too soon.

“Oh Patrick, I picked up your dry-cleaning. I’ll just hang your shirts up in my closet. That new dark navy one will really bring out your eyes.”

“Thank you, Ray. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yes, yes. Night boys.”

He can just feel David itching to say something and turns to him with his finger raised.

“Don’t say a word.”

“What? I wasn’t going to say anything,” David says with feigned disbelief.

“Uh huh…” Patrick grumbles, sliding closer and dragging David in so he can hide his surely beet red face beneath his chin.

It’s quiet for a minute, maybe two and Patrick takes a deep breath, knowing it’s just a matter of time. But David doesn’t say anything and Patrick wonders if he’s really going to let that go.

“It’ll really bring out your eyes?”

Maybe not.

[saphirered]

Hi, I love your writing, and was wondering if I could get a Essek x aasimar reader ( in which they are in an established romantic relationship) , where the reader gifts Essek quills made from their own feathers as an anniversary gift?

Thanks for requesting. I hope it turned out to your liking. Warning for all the fluff. 😘

You open the front door stepping inside the familiar interior of the towers. The entry hall is dark. With a snap of your fingers the vase on the side table glows with a radiant light. You take off your shoes and set them neatly underneath the side table next to Essek’s; the dark leather boots giving away the wizard had returned before you did.

It had been a long exhausting day of work but you’d finally made it home. With the time, you half expected Essek to already have headed to bed so made sure to be quiet setting down your usual things and heading up the stairs, fine carved box wrapped under your arm.

You had to find a spot to hide the box. The anniversary’s coming up tomorrow and you wanted to keep this a surprise. You’ve worked long and hard to assure your gift would be perfect and were able to find someone able to make you the things you couldn’t yourself. A jeweller made you carefully crafted nibs engraved in geometric designs. You found some silver twist thread to secure the nib in the beautiful feathers taken from your own wings.

You would have asked a skilled maker to do it for you but too many questions would arise from you walking into a shop providing feathers with a bit of a radiant angelic glow to them so instead you had to assemble them yourself. A good many tries, and many ruined feathers later you had a working quill and made a few more to complete the set. You ended up with one for notes, one for letters, one for official documents and one for transcribing spells. Each quill slightly different and unique in its own right.

Finding a place to hide your gift proved a bit more difficult than you thought. A place where Essek wouldn’t look or accidentally stumble across it… Underneath the bed? No that’s stupid. Bottom of the wardrobe? Too easily found. Kitchen? Push one thing aside and the box will stand out like a sore thumb. The study…. The study! Hide it in plane sight. You’d just have to make sure you’d be up before he was and get to the study first. Easily done!

Off to the study you went but your brilliant plan fell apart when you saw an ember glow come through the slightly ajar door. You look around the hallway. Think fast. Bookcase. You lift a display box from the shelf and put the carved box down, putting the display box on top of it. Hidden in plane sight. Terrible but it will have to do.

You push the door to the study open a bit more to reveal the interior. The candlelight basks the room in a warm flickering glow. Back facing you Essek sits in a chair bend over his desk softly grumbling to himself. Leaning his head on his fist he scribbles on a sheet of paper before adding it to a small stack next to it with a sigh. He grabs a new sheet and continues writing.

As quiet as you can you tiptoe up behind Essek. You wrap an arm around him, leaning your head on his shoulder and press a soft kiss to his temple as you look over his work. Essek relaxes leaning into your embrace dropping the decrepit quill and stretching and curling his fingers to get rid of the stiffness. Looks like he’s been writing a lot more than this single stack by hand.

“Hey.” Essek breathes placing his hand over yours and squeezing softly. His lips press against your cheek lazily as if he’s finally found the mind space to relax and let the stress dissipate.

“Hey.” The two of you stay like that for a little while.

“What are you working on this late?” You ask getting a glimpse of the documents, some stamped with the Bright Queen’s sigil. Did he take home his work? Must really have been a busy day for the both of you then.

“Nothing worth talking about. Just some orders to the Lens to be signed off on. What time is it?”

“It’s almost midnight, Essek. I thought I finished up late. Take a break. The work will still be here in the morning.” Essek looks at you to make sure you’re not messing with him. Realising you are being truthful he rubs his brow pushing the quill and paper back further. You let him get up and he stretches his back trying to get rid of the ache from sitting in the same position for however long he had been.

“You know what day it is tomorrow. I want to spend it with you. Not caught up in this.” Essek gestures to the neatly stacked papers. You step up close to him placing your hands on either side of his face offering him a loving smile.

“If it’s important you have my permission to finish up. Besides, maybe I can help. Unless you think I’d be too much of a distraction rather than a motivator.” You tease pecking his lips.

“Come on. By the looks of it neither of us have had dinner yet. I’m sure there’s still some broth left. We can improvise some stew.” Seeing no reason to complain or decline the offer of some proper food Essek allows you to drag him along to the kitchen. Aren’t you glad you decided not to hide your gift in the kitchen?

The two of you work together to provide dinner, you doing most of the work; preventing Essek from ruining your meal by adding the wrong spices or turning down the heat too much. It’s known that out of the two of you you are the better cook so Essek resorts to just following your instructions to the dot to not end up with a bland, wrongly spiced, or undercooked meal.

In half an hour or so the table is set with a steaming pot of deliciously smelling stew, a loaf of bread cut in slices, some cheese, a bottle of wine and the two of you sitting opposite of each other, your legs stretched out to balance on the wizard’s lap as he pours two glasses of wine handing one to you. You fill a plate with food exchanging it for the glass of wine and fill a second plate for yourself.

Together you enjoy your meal discussing your activities of the day or part of it hiding the details of working on your anniversary gift. Table cleared and dishes washed you return to the living room relaxing on the couch in each other’s embrace determined to finish the remainder of the bottle of wine tonight.

You’re about to doze off but sit up catching a glimpse of outside through the window. Essek looks at you confused giving you a ‘what’s wrong’ expression as you rush over to the window. You beckon Essek over who reluctantly gets up to watch the skies you seem so hyper focussed on all o the sudden.

“Look!” You exclaim pointing at the moons and stars. Essek searches the skies for any inconsistencies but finds none. It’s a beautiful clear night, that’s for sure. What he didn’t expect is you turning around and pulling him into a deep and passionate kiss. Not one to deny such gesture from you he’s quick to return the kiss albeit still somewhat confused about the link between the night sky, excitement and kiss.

Pulling apart after a long kiss you wrap your arms around Essek’s middle. You catch on to the lingering sense of confusions from Essek and decide to spell it out for him.

“It’s past midnight. Happy anniversary, dear.” The drow’s eyes light up and quickly gives you another kiss to cover up the embarrassment of not catching on.

“Since we’re still up anyway. I have a gift for you. Wait here.” You untangle yourself from the comforts of Essek’s embrace, rush upstairs to retrieve your gift. You nearly drop the display case you had hid it under but avoid a messy disaster and broken antique. Box behind your back and goofy smile on your face you approach him once again but leave enough space between the two of you so you can actually hand him your gift.

“Humor me. Close your eyes.” Essek closes his eyes. You open the box displaying it properly, tapping Essek with your foot to signal he could open his eyes again. At first when he does he’s playing along with your game but that drops the moment his eyes fall upon the pristine quills. Shock, bewilderment, gratitude, love, that’s what you get from Essek. A warm and content sense washes over you.

“These-. What-. I-I have no words.” Essek breathes as he reaches for one of the quills but stops for your permission.

“They are yours. You need not ask for permission.” Not having to be told twice Essek picks up one of the quills and inspects it closely, feeling the weight in his hand, the silver thread twisted grip and nib. In awe he breathes one word; ‘perfect’. Before you know it kisses are peppered all over as he takes the box from your hands and carefully sets it aside. Once he does you’re pulled into a deep embrace.

“Thank you. They are… beautiful, perfect. They are perfect. You, are perfect.”

“I hope these will last you longer than your old ones. You’ve gone through those in a matter of weeks now.” You laugh. Essek pulls away from you holding by the shoulders. Your own turn to be confused, you give him a look.

“Any time is as good as now.” Essek hurries off up the stairs and you can hear the door of the study opening. He quickly returns, telling you to close your eyes before he reaches the bottom step. You obey and cover your eyes with your hands. You hear footsteps draw near until they stop in front of you.

A hand pulls away yours from your face and you’re met with Essek’s joking disapproval. No peaking so you close your eyes and allow your hands to be pulled down resting in front of you palms up. A heavy rectangular object is dropped in your hands. You wrap your fingers around to make sure you don’t accidentally drop it.

“Open your eyes.” You’re met with suspense from Essek nudging for you to look at the gift in your hands. It’s a proper leather-bound book. On the cover is your name pressed in gold lettering surrounded by streamlined geometric line designs in beautiful patterns.

You open the book the title page is blank but backing the cover there’s a message dedicated to you.

‘A story not nearly completed and yet to be named. May we continue this story for many more pages to come.’

You now know exactly how Essek felt upon receiving your heartfelt gift; speechless. You flip the pages. It’s the story of how you met, how your lives developed, how you’d grown close together and eventually grown to love each other paired with sketches of places where some of these events took place, of you and him together, and of you alone. Essek awaits your response but your words seem to have left you.

“Come here.” You breathe the words barely audible and you wrap your arms around the wizard pulling him tightly against you as you whisper thank yous on the verge of tears. Relief washes over him as he melts into your embrace.

“I take it my gift is to your liking?”

“I love it. Almost as much as I love you.” You pull back enough to give him a kiss a bright smile on your face.

“I love you too.” The two of you stay in each other’s arms watching the skies satisfied. No words can describe the love you share but your respective gifts give some insight in that. To many more stories to be told. To many more stories to be told.