#any advice is v welcome

[sexynetra]

I am on a mission to learn how to draw can you believe these are literally only 4 days apart I’m feeling so pussy pussy cunt cunt rn

[666prophet]

Ivory n peaches !

6. ivory - describe your pajamas?

Well wouldn't you like to know. 😏 Jokes aside, it's not that impressive. Usually I'm just in the underoos. Tonight it's gray 😉

22. peaches - do you have a skincare routine?

Before it was simply just face wash and lotion. I've been getting better with it but I am woefully under informed. 😭 I'm not trying to go crazy with it, just add some cleansers, creams, etc.

Soft asks

[hispg]

Baby boy

Pairings: Re2! Leon x Fem! Reader

Summary: Your coworker Leon always goes after you for advice, even on the most basic things, even if he doesn't need to.

However, you decided to make him understand your advice in a more... Incisive way.

Wc: 2.2k

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, p in v, cockwarming, masturbation (M receiving), oral sex (M receiving), Sub! Leon, Dom! Reader, orgasm control/ denial,slightly praise/ degradation, a bit of dirty talk.

Leon was your coworker, sweet and kind. A lovely person to be around. It didn't take long for the two of you to bond, becoming almost inseparable.

He follows you around like a puppy, always on your tail, no matter where, he's always stuck with you. And the kind who always asks you before doing things.

Sometimes he doesn't even need to, but he likes to have your permission to do things, just as he always talked to you and asked for all kinds of advice, even asking for help with his studies.

You never really understood why, but you never complained either, his presence was always very welcome.

And that evening he was once again in your office, sitting in a chair in front of the computer while you explained a subject you had in common. It had become routine for him to sneak into your room late at night, just to have a chat with you whenever he could.

He was still in his uniform, staring intently at the slides on your computer. Even though you had already explained this subject to him last week, he came to ask you for a further explanation. You understood that he might be nervous about the police academy exams, but that much?

While you were explaining, it wasn't long before he was sitting comfortably in the chair you were using, with his legs wide open, on purpose. If he was being frank, the sound of your voice was enough to make him lose focus, it's not as if he was paying attention to anything you were saying. Blue eyes staring at you, watching the way your lips opened and closed, the way you looked so beautiful while you were focused on explaining things to him.

Of course it was a lie that he had come here to have you teach him this subject, he could have tried to study on his own. However, what fun would it be if it wasn't for you explaining it?

"Leon, my eyes are up here." You mutter, leaning on the table and crossing your arms, raising an eyebrow.

He coughed awkwardly, looking at you in confusion, "Eh, pardon me. Go on, I'm listening."

You scoffed, knowing full well that he hadn't paid attention to a word you'd said. The way his cock began to harden under his pants was a sign as clear as day.

You now perfectly confirmed why he was here. He needed some incisive teaching, something strict to learn from. A punishment, if you were bad enough to do it.

And you were.

"I know you're not paying attention." You whispered, running your fingers along his knee, stopping at his thigh.

It was enough for his breathing to fail and him to swallow. The poor thing got even harder with that simple touch. How pathetic could that sound?

"Uhm.. I'm sorry. I promise I will-," You didn't even let him finish speaking, you simply hovered your hand over his erection. Staring at him with a certain impudence in your eyes.

"Apologies are no use if you're not going to get better, Leon." Words that made him shudder, biting his lower lip to hold back any whimper that might escape his lips.

With your index finger you traced the size of his cock through his pants, making a point of maintaining eye contact during the process. His puppy eyes followed your every move, looking up at you with a sly expression.

"Take it out." You demanded flatly, crossing your arms and waiting for him to take off his pants.

And to your surprise he did, without any reluctance at all. He just undid his belt, lifted his hips and pulled down his pants and boxers in one swift movement. His fat cock sprang out at the same moment, the pink, swollen tip begging for your touch.

Poor guy, you'd be so mean.

"That's what you came here for, isn't it?" you asked, gripping the base of his cock tightly, and he whimpered like a little bitch at the same moment.

The way you felt his veins pulsing in your hands made you smile with a certain pity. How much did he want it? How depraved of touch was he to get hard just looking at you? What a silly little thing he was.

His hands rested on his thighs, as he tried to keep his breathing steady, "I wanted to see you." He says, looking at the work your hand was starting to do.

A sneer leaves your lips, and you rub your thumb over the tip of it, pressing your face against his. So close that his breath was hitting you.

"Missing me? What an ugly excuse, Leon." You purred, giving his jaw wet kisses. Slowly jerking him off.

The poor guy wasn't even in a state to protest, biting his lip to hold back the sly noises he was still trying to disguise. But he never could.

Your fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, moving up and down, making a point of suddenly increasing the pace, only to see him moan softly, roll his eyes back and look at you.

"I-I can?" He asked shyly, looking down at your breasts, his gaze undoubtedly hungry. He couldn't keep his hands off you, but today you wouldn't let him touch an inch of you without permission.

"No." You murmured with a shrug, kneeling in front of him. At the same moment, his eyes went wide, his breathing quickened. His focus was only on you, nothing else.

He was so obedient that you didn't even have to ask, he automatically spread his legs wider to accommodate you. Wide open for you to do whatever you wanted with him.

"Such a cute thing." You murmured with a mischievous smile, digging your nails gently into his thighs, watching him squirm and whimper with every touch.

He was so desperate, jerking his hips at you, wanting you to do something with his hard-on. Any touch would do.

You couldn't help yourself and let out a giggle, putting your hands on his hips to keep him in place, kissing and nibbling his thighs, licking and leaving a few marks here and there.

"Nhm, please..." He pleaded in a grunt, looking down at his lap. Poor thing was already leaking, pre cum dripping down his pink tip.

"How pathetic, are you going to cum with just those touches?" You murmured, licking the sticky liquid dripping from him, giving the head of his cock a light lick.

He moaned, loudly. Letting his head fall back, holding on tightly to the edges of the chair. He wanted you so much, so much he couldn't describe it.

His cock throbbing and twitching, he knew it wouldn't last long, not with you in front of him.

You could already see your own arousal rising, your panties starting to get soaked, and you found yourself humping nothing in search of some friction.

Without giving him any warning, you pressed your plump lips to his tip, making a point of wrapping your tongue around the sensitive part, trying to contain the naughty smile that appeared on your face.

Your fingers trailed down his inner thigh, down and down until you found his balls, massaging lightly, only to hear the dirty sounds he could no longer control.

"Ah-ah, holy shit!" He cries out, biting his lower lip hard, looking at you with piteous eyes. He wanted you so much. But wanting wasn't being able to.

And he started moaning even more when you put him all in your mouth, sucking his cock down to the base, your lips wrapped around his entire length, moving up and down, tongue curling and teasing him in every sensitive spot you could find.

His eyes rolled into the back of his head every time, hips moving upwards in desperation for your touch. His cheeks were so red that he couldn't hide the blush even if he tried very hard.

"Hmh.. I think I'm close." He groaned, opening his eyes to see you, biting his lip at the sight in front of him.

You were choking on his cock, saliva and cum running down the length of it. You couldn't deny it, for someone as baby-faced as him, he certainly had an impressive size.

You continued, even though you knew he was close to cumming, but then you stopped. As soon as you felt his hips jerking upwards in a deep thrust into your mouth, that's when you withdrew your hot lips from his cock. Seeing his sly, crying face, God, why did you have to be like that?

"Oh- Please, please!" He begged, looking at you with tear-streaked eyelids, tears that threatened to fall. He was so excited that he felt like the world around him had stopped.

You smiled at his pleas, looking him up and down. A devilish grin plastered across your face.

"What? Don't tell me you're going to cry." You teased him, sliding your hand under his uniform, squeezing and lightly scratching his chest.

"Fuck. Hell, let me cum..." another plea, and of course he could do it on his own. It wasn't as if you had tied his hands and prevented him from moving.

But he liked taking orders. He liked being treated like a little boy who obeyed every order he was given, he loved it.

Just as you saw his hands coming towards you, trying to grab you by the hips and pull you towards him.

"Hands off." You say, standing up once again.

He whimpers, looking at you slyly, asking for something. You wouldn't be mean to leave him in this state, would you?

"Well, since you weren't paying attention. Looks like I'm going to have to explain everything again." You said nonchalantly, taking no time to take off your clothes, standing naked in front of him.

He gasped, his lips parted as he looked you up and down, his imagination running wild.

And then you mounted him, rubbing your wetness against his tip, giving his lips a little kiss. And there went his hands again, gripping the seat of the chair tightly, so tightly that he could tear the padding if he wanted to.

"You're going to be quiet and listen to me, and I don't want you to cum. Understood?" You say seriously, staring at him as you sink onto his cock, warm, gummy walls nestling him.

"Yes... Yes ma'am." He says in a moan, holding his trembling thighs, taking deep breaths to contain himself. The way you welcomed him so well, how could he hold back like that?

He was a crying mess, staring at your naked figure on his lap, biting his lip and trying to keep his attention on your eyes. But he couldn't, all he did was look down. Seeing the way his cock was buried in you, so deep.

Your breasts swaying slightly as you gestured, your wetness making a mess of his thighs. God, he was fucked.

"I can't hold it." He murmured, moaning loudly and clenching the seat of the chair, holding his hips and avoiding thrusting into you.

You scoffed, holding him by the chin, "Mh? The pretty boy can't hold it? Mh? Dick throbbing so much he needs to empty into me?" You knew that dirty talk was his weak point, and you used it to your advantage.

He cries out, letting his head fall back a little. Unconsciously pushing against you. At least he was trying.

How long had you been explaining? It had been a good few minutes, but maybe he could hold out just a little longer.

You started grinding against him, pulling him into a sloppy kiss, letting your hands roam free over his abdomen, squeezing every bit you could find.

He was finished, not even muffling his sounds with your mouth helped. Your living room was echoing every dirty noise he made, so exciting.

"I want you to sing to me." You purred during the kiss, starting to ride him.

You had no pity, you started doing it fast and deep, listening to his flesh hit yours. Skin against skin, making that unholy noise.

"Ah- fuck- shit- slowly!" He managed to babble, your name slipping from his lips with each bounce.

You felt his body arch up, squirming even more underneath you, he couldn't hold back the minute your walls began to clench against him, it was too much, enough for him to paint your insides white.

He was so high that you had to cover his mouth with yours, while you were still riding him until you came.

"Be quiet, or I'll be doing this all night." A threat or a gift? He couldn't tell, he wasn't even in his right mind to say anything.

And then you came, your fluids mixing with his as you both moaned against each other's lips.

You could still feel his hot cum oozing out, it was such a load. Just for you.

And there he was, drained, panting, not even able to open his eyes from how excited he was, still recovering from the high. And you didn't look much different.

Maybe, just maybe, after tonight he'll need another one of those... Your lessons.

[xthejazzdalorianx]

Forbidden Heat (One-Shot)

pairing(s): dbf!oldman!logan x f!reader

warning(s): explicit, minors do not interact! plot with porn, SMUT, yearning, angst, fluff, p in v sex, oral sex, sexual tension, oblivious father, logan being a flirt as always. let me know if i am missing anything because i am still learning.

author’s notes: hi y’all! i feel like it has been awhile since i have written something. this one made me giggle too much as i was writing it. i am working on a charles xavier one, but it still in the works. also, i forgot to mention that i am still working on my own signature format for this. anyways…. please let me know if y’all have any advice for me!

word count: 4.5K

- - - - - - -

summary: In this story, the reader returns home after four years away, eager to reconnect with her father and meet his friend Logan. The excitement of reunion quickly turns into a tense attraction between her and Logan, leading to a passionate encounter.

- - - - - - -

The clock reads 5pm as you arrive at the airport in upstate New York. It's a bustling day, especially compared to your days at school in Texas. The air was thick with the excitement of reunion, a palpable energy that hummed beneath the ticking of the clock and the bustling crowds. Your heart raced with anticipation, knowing that in just a few moments, you would be in your father's embrace once again.

As you enter the gates and head towards the baggage claim, you can't help but imagine your dad waiting for you with open arms. It's been a whole four years since you last returned home. You're excited to reconnect with your dad and catch up on all that has happened since he retired from teaching. He mentioned over the phone that he and his best friend Logan have been busy tinkering with motorcycles and cars, so you're eager to hear all about it in person.

Lost in your thoughts, you were caught off guard when your dad's waving finally registered. He had already picked up your luggage and was waiting with a beaming smile. You quickly take off your headphones and run into his open arms, giving him a warm hug.

"Dad! I can't believe I'm finally back," you say, flashing a bright smile. He gives you a reassuring pat on the back as you let go of the embrace. "Hey kiddo, it's great to have you home again. And this time, for good?" he asks with a quizzical look.

You say confidently, "I'm here to stay, whether you like it or not." Your dad laughs and gives you a knowing look. As you both walk out of the baggage claim area, you suggest, "Maybe I can get a a part-time job as a barista at Bonnie’s Coffee Grounds." Your dad nods in agreement. Outside, the noise and constant jostling of people make it hard to hear each other. Despite the chaos, your dad's smile remains as he guides you towards a waiting truck.

You slowly realize that the truck blocking your view is not your dad's familiar Chevy, but a Ford. Maybe a Ford F250? You can't be sure; you've spent enough time around trucks to know the difference at least. As you and your dad approach the vehicle, the windows roll down to reveal your dad's good friend, Logan.

Logan sits behind the wheel, wearing his trademark sunglasses, a tank top peeking out from under a black and red flannel, jeans, and his trusty boots. In one hand, he holds a cigar while the other rests casually on the steering wheel.

"Welcome back, darlin'," he greets you with a voice as smooth as honey. Your cheeks flush at his words and you try to play it off with a smile. "Feels good to be back," you reply through gritted teeth.

A soft chuckle escapes Logan's lips as he notices your flushed cheeks. Thankfully, your dad doesn't seem to catch on as he helps you into the truck and tosses your bags in the back. He takes his seat next to you and we set off towards our homes in the suburban outskirts of the city. Returning home feels strange with all the bright city lights and towering skyscrapers dominating the landscape.

You spend the remainder of the car ride plugged into your music, listening to your favorite songs. Logan occasionally glances at you through the rearview mirror before readjusting it and returning his focus to the road. It takes an hour to reach your hometown. The charming single-story houses in the neighborhood are just as you remembered them, complete with their white picket fences.

- - - - - - -

As Logan pulls his truck into your father's driveway and turns off the engine, he sets his sunglasses down in the cupholder. You feel a mixture of excitement and nervousness as you quickly put your phone and earphones back into the pockets of your jean shorts. Your dad and Logan are the first to get out of the truck, with Logan kindly holding open the door for you and closing it once you're outside.

Your father takes the lead, directing the group as he grabs your bags. Logan places a reassuring hand on your lower back, sending a jolt of electricity through you that intensifies the warmth between your legs and creates a throbbing sensation. Your cheeks flush with embarrassment when you notice Logan's playful smirk and you let out a soft gasp as he winks at you before guiding you towards the house.

Your dad struggles with your luggage while trying to open the door. "Logan, could you lend a hand?" he asks, and Logan breaks away from touching your back to help. The sensation lingers, sending tingles over your body as they finally manage to open the door with a gentle push.

As you drift off in thought again, Logan snaps you out of it when they cross the threshold of the front door. Your dad sets your luggage near the living room couch while Logan heads to the kitchen to get them both beers. You make your way to your old room which hasn't changed since you left for college and is slightly messy.

The walls are still painted a soft shade of lilac with delicate flowers and leaves arranged with care. Your bed is still covered in plush purple velvet sheets and pillowcases. Now that you think about it, this might not be the most age-appropriate room for you, but you shrug it off.

You set your luggage down on the bed and start organizing your things. Your dad can be heard in the distance, letting Logan know that he will be in the garage before ordering pizza for dinner later on. Logan responds with his usual grunt before you hear the garage door close. As you clean and organize your room, you hum to yourself. You are completely unaware when Logan leans against the frame of your bedroom door. Startled, you nearly jump out of your skin when you see him there.

You scold him with a frown, "Don't startle me like that! It's so rude." He just smirks in response. "Your dad wanted me to let you know he'll be ordering pizza." You nod at Logan's words, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment for being caught off guard. You wish you could disappear into the comfort of your bed and dream about anything else. Unfortunately, the outside world is more complex than that. His eyes seem fixated on you, taking in every inch of your form, sending shivers down your spine. You clear your throat and turn back to organizing your suitcase.

- - - - - - -

Watching Logan's retreating form, a hint of sadness creeps into your heart. However, you quickly push those emotions away and concentrate on the growing tension in your body. You set down your luggage and close the door quietly. Quickly, you strip off your clothes and let them tumble into a heap on the floor. Then, you hop onto your bed and retrieve your go-to item from inside your nightstand: a dark pink vibrator that never fails to get the job done.

You lie back on your bed, your heart racing as you turn on the vibrator and press it against your clit. You let out a soft moan as the vibrations travel through your body. You close your eyes and imagine Logan's hands on your body, his lips on yours. The mere thought of him whispering in your ear and commanding you to beg for more makes you whimper.

You slide the vibrator lower, teasing your entrance before slowly pushing it inside. You gasp at the sensation, your body quivering with pleasure. You move the vibrator in and out, increasing the speed as you get closer to orgasm. You bite your lip to keep from making too much noise, not wanting anyone to hear you.

You imagine Logan's hands gripping your hips, his body on top of yours. You imagine him thrusting into you, his cock hitting just the right spot. You feel yourself getting closer and closer, your entire body tense with anticipation.

With one final thrust, you let out a muffled cry as you orgasm, your body shaking with pleasure. You lie there for a moment, catching your breath, before turning off the vibrator and setting it aside. You feel a sense of relief and satisfaction wash over you, knowing that you can always rely on your trusty toy when you need it.

- - - - - - -

You jump out of bed and quickly change into a tight tank top and sleep shorts. Feeling a bit shaky, you clean your vibrator and put it back in your nightstand drawer. As the guilt washes over you, you think about what happened earlier. It's your first day back and you couldn't control yourself.

You push away those thoughts and finish tidying up your room, putting away your luggage in an organized manner. With everything in place, you decide to pass the time by reading a book. After approximately thirty minutes, there is a knock on your door. "Hey, it's Logan. The pizza has arrived," he announces before heading to the kitchen. He runs his hand through his hair, trying to distract himself. Has he always been so fascinated by you? Trying to maintain his composure, he leans against the kitchen counter and crosses his strong arms over his chest.

He attempts not to think about the scent of your perfume because it was highly alluring to him. He gazes up at the ceiling and closes his eyes as he lets out a sigh. When he returned from hanging out with your father in the garage, he was on his way to the bathroom when he heard moaning and whimpering coming from your room. As he crept closer to the door, he could hear you and it made him incredibly aroused. He couldn't shake the image from his mind when he heard you; it drove him wild. He longed to open the door, throw you onto your bed, and ravish you right then and there.

But he knows he can’t do that with your dad around, and he isn't sure if you would even be interested in him. He lets out an even bigger sigh. When he lowers his head to look ahead of him, he sees you standing there. You are looking at him curiously. His cock twitches at the sight of you in that tight tank top and sleep shorts. He wants to rip them off of you and...he mentally scolds himself for having such thoughts.

- - - - - - -

As you approach Logan, a heavy tension fills the air between you two. His heart hammers against his chest, his breath coming in short gasps as he feels your intense gaze upon him. The heat radiating from your body is suffocating, making him break into a cold sweat.

You lean in closer, your intoxicating scent enveloping him and sending shivers down his spine. The mere sound of your voice is enough to send electricity coursing through his veins.

Logan's mouth goes dry as he watches your lips form the words "Logan, could you also grab me a beer, please?" Every fiber of his being screams for him to put some distance between you, but he can't resist the pull that draws him to you. His mind races with forbidden thoughts of what it would be like to taste those luscious lips.

With trembling hands, he makes his way to the fridge. His arousal is evident as he struggles to maintain control over his body's physical response to you. As he hands you the beer, their fingers brush lightly and a jolt of desire shoots through him like lightning.

Your simple thank-you sends a shockwave through his body as he watches you bring the bottle to your lips, taking a slow and tantalizing sip. The sight of your tongue caressing the bottle's edge sets his imagination on fire, envisioning it sliding along his cock that is screaming to be free from his jeans.

He knows he shouldn't be having such impure thoughts about you, but he can't help it. You ignite something primal within him that he can't ignore.

Trying to regain some semblance of composure, Logan takes a step back. But the visual feast before him proves too much to handle. Your hardened nipples pressing against the thin fabric of your tank top has him struggling not to give into temptation.

Feeling overwhelmed with lust and confusion, he tries to hide his inner turmoil behind a forced smile. "Do you need anything else?" he asks, his voice strained.

Your eyes hold a hint of curiosity and something else that Logan can't quite decipher. He wonders if you can sense how much he desires you in this moment. But when you break eye contact to focus on the pizza, he lets out a sigh of relief, grateful for the small reprieve.

As Logan watches you eat, a tense silence hangs in the air between you. Finally, unable to contain the swirling emotions inside him any longer, he speaks up.

"You know, I heard some noises earlier... coming from your room," Logan stutters, his voice betraying the turmoil within him.

You look up from your pizza, a hint of surprise flashing across your face before you quickly compose yourself. "Oh, um... yeah, sorry about that. It was nothing, I just… put on a movie," you respond casually, though a faint blush creeps up your cheeks.

Logan's eyes widen slightly at your explanation, his mind racing. "Right… Yeah, totally understandable," he mumbles, trying to shake off the images that still lingered in his mind.

- - - - - - -

The tension between you two thickens as you both struggle to find the right words to break the awkwardness that now fills the room.

After a moment of silence, Logan clears his throat and tries to steer the conversation in a different direction. "So… how was your day back? Did you… uhm… miss being here?" he asks tentatively, his gaze flickering nervously between you and his half-eaten pizza.

You sense Logan's unease and decide to lighten the mood. "Yeah, it's been good so far. And well, let's just say it's definitely nice to be back," you reply with a playful smirk, hoping to ease the tension that still lingers between you two.

Logan chuckles softly at your response, grateful for the brief moment of normalcy amidst the charged atmosphere. "Glad to hear that," he says with a small smile, his eyes meeting yours briefly before darting away. Your dad comes in from the garage, wiping his hands on a rag.

He heads towards the kitchen to wash his hands. "How's the pizza, champ?" he glances back and sees you happily munching on a slice. After you swallow, you answer, "It's great, thanks Dad." You give him a smile. He nods and finishes drying his hands with a paper towel.

"Hey man, have you given it a try yet?" Logan shakes his head, but walks over to the dining table and grabs a slice for himself. He takes a bite and grins. Your dad also cuts himself a slice and joins in on the tasting. Once everyone has had their fair share of two or more slices, your dad declares he's heading to bed. It's just you and Logan left in the living room, watching some TV."

- - - - - - -

Sitting on opposite ends of the couch, you and Logan exchange a quick glance. His gaze is already fixed on you, and he gives you a playful smirk as your cheeks flush with a light pink hue. He pats his thigh and teasingly says, "Why don't you come sit closer to me, sweetheart? I won't bite...unless that's what you're into." You give him a shy smile before standing up and making your way over to him, feeling the couch sink beneath your weight as you settle in next to him. His thigh brushes against yours, sending electric sparks through your body.

You try to focus on the movie playing on the television in front of you, but it's hard to concentrate with Logan's leg pressed against yours. You take a deep breath and try to steady yourself as you watch him out of the corner of your eye. When you lean forward to grab your beer, his eyes follow the movement of your throat as you swallow. The cool liquid helps soothe some of the heat building between your legs.

Logan watches you drink, his fingers itching to touch you. He can feel his own arousal growing as he imagines running his hands all over your body. The background noise from the television fades into the background as he focuses solely on you.

Finally, unable to resist any longer, Logan turns towards you and whispers in your ear, "Do you need any help with that vibrator from earlier?" His voice is low and husky, causing a rush of excitement through your body. You gulp nervously and look around the room, hoping that your dad is not lurking nearby.

With a subtle nod from her, the intense sexual tension between you and Logan ignites like a tightly coiled wire snapping. You quickly finish your beer and place it on the coffee table, then straddle him eagerly. Your thighs press against his hips as you lean in for a passionate kiss. His hands grip your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies fit together seamlessly. You can feel the hardness of his erection pressing against his jeans, teasing the warmth between your own legs.

Logan's lips trail down to your jawline, nibbling and sucking on the sensitive skin there. "Fuck, princess, I've been craving to taste you all night," he growls in a low, rough voice filled with desire. You moan in response, grinding your body against his as his fingers slip under your tank top to tease your nipple.

You lose yourself in the heat of the moment as his lips find yours again. Your hands roam across his chest, tracing the hard muscles beneath his layered tank top and flannel shirt. He groans into your mouth.

In one swift motion, Logan pulls away from the kiss and lifts you up into his arms. You wrap your arms around his neck as he carries you down the hallway to your bedroom, shutting the door softly behind him. He gently lays you down on the bed, his body pressing against yours as he starts to undress you.

His lips trail a path of hot kisses down your neck, stopping at the base of your throat before moving to your breasts. He takes each one in his hands, teasing your nipples until they are hard and sensitive. You arch your back, moaning with pleasure as he sucks on one of them.

His fingers slide down your stomach and hook onto the waistband of your shorts. He pulls them down along with your panties, leaving you bare before him. He gazes down at you, his eyes full of desire. "You're so fucking beautiful, darlin," he whispers hoarsely.

He continues his descent down your body, leaving a trail of hot, eager kisses behind. When he reaches the apex of your thighs, he pauses, taking a moment to appreciate the sight before him. Your pussy is glistening with anticipation, and he can't help but groan at the sight. Without hesitation, he buries his face between your legs, inhaling deeply.

His mouth finds your clit, swollen and sensitive, and he wastes no time in lavishing it with attention. His tongue flicks and teases, tracing circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves before darting inside to taste your wetness. You gasp, your hips bucking involuntarily as he works his magic.

He adds his middle finger to join in, sliding easily inside your slick folds. He curls them upward, finding your g-spot with practiced ease. You cry out quietly, your body trembling as he rubs and teases the sensitive spot. His tongue continues to work your clit, alternating between fast flicks and slow, lingering licks.

He adds a second finger, stretching you deliciously as he pumps them in and out. Your moans fill the room, your body writhing beneath him as he brings you to the edge of release. He can feel your muscles clenching around his fingers, your body begging for release.

With one final, teasing flick of his tongue, you cry out quietly, "Oh god, Logan!" Your orgasm washes over you, your body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure rolls through you. He continues to kiss and nibble at your sensitive flesh, drawing out your orgasm until you're left panting and spent.

Logan looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire, and murmurs, "You taste so fucking good." Your eyes are hazy with pleasure.

- - - - - - -

He starts to kiss his way up your body, his lips leaving a trail of fire on your skin. As he reaches your breasts, he pauses to circle each nipple with his tongue before taking it into his mouth and sucking gently. You arch your back, pushing yourself further into his touch as he teases and plays with your sensitive flesh.

"Logan, please," you beg, "I need you inside me." He chuckles softly before moving to position himself between your thighs. He leans in to whisper in your ear, "Patience, my love. We have all night."

He starts to slowly enter you, his cock pressing against your slick entrance teasingly before inching its way inside. Each delicious inch fills you completely, stretching you wider and making you gasp with pleasure. Your walls clench around him as he begins to move, thrusting deep inside you with every stroke. His pace is tantalizingly slow, drawing out each sensation until you're writhing beneath him, desperate for more.

He reaches down to cup your ass, pulling you closer and driving himself even deeper. But that's not all - his fingers find their way to your clit, rubbing it in slow circles as he continues to thrust. You cry out in surprise and pleasure, your hips bucking to meet his as he expertly works your sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Fuck, you feel amazing," he groans, his voice low and husky. You respond by tightening your grip on him, pulling him even closer and matching his movements thrust for thrust. His fingers continue to work your clit, building the tension inside you until you're on the brink of release.

But Logan isn't done yet. He increases his pace, driving into you with a fierce intensity that takes your breath away. Each stroke is deeper and harder than the last, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You moan and gasp, your body trembling with pleasure as he continues to rub your clit and thrust into you.

It's not long before you feel yourself building towards another orgasm. But Logan shows no signs of slowing down. He keeps up his relentless pace, his stamina seemingly boundless as he drives you higher and higher. You cry out as you come, your body shaking and trembling with the force of your release.

Logan follows shortly after, his own orgasm shuddering through him as he collapses on top of you. But even as he catches his breath, his fingers continue to work your clit, drawing out your orgasm until you're boneless and spent. You lie there, panting and satisfied, wrapped in each other's arms and basking in the afterglow of passion. Logan finally lifts himself up slightly to meet your gaze. His eyes are soft now, filled with a tender affection that makes your heart flutter.

- - - - - - -

"I crave more of you," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble as he tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "I can't get enough."

You smirk up at him, feeling the weight of his words pool low in your belly. "Is that so?" you tease, tracing your fingers along the sharp angles of his jaw.

"I mean it," he insists, his tone sincere. "I've never felt anything like this before."

You feel a warmth blooming in your chest at his words, realizing just how deeply connected you are in this moment. "Me neither," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan's hand moves to caress your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin. "I want to make you feel good," he murmurs, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt.

You meet his gaze head-on, determination shining through. "I trust you," you say firmly, the conviction in your voice unwavering.

With a tender smile, Logan leans down to capture your lips in a slow, passionate kiss. His touch is gentle yet confident as he guides you both towards another round of shared ecstasy. And as the night unfolds before you, filled with whispers of longing and gasps of pleasure, you know that this connection between you and Logan is something truly special.

- - - - - - -

The following morning, you get dressed and brush your teeth before making your way to the kitchen. Upon entering, you are taken aback to see Logan sitting at the table with your father. You feel a bit embarrassed for oversleeping and assume that Logan must have left before anyone else woke up. Clearing your throat and putting on a smile, you join them at the table.

"Good morning, Dad," you mumble, trying to ignore the teasing glint in his eyes. "Sorry about that, I must have slept really hard."

Logan briefly looks up from his coffee and then quickly averts his gaze, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "No worries," he says casually, taking another sip. "I made breakfast for us."

You take a seat next to him, grateful but also feeling awkward at his gesture. The tension is palpable as you try to act normal, while your mind continues to process what happened between you two last night.

Your dad breaks the silence with a soft chuckle. "Logan was just telling me about some of his adventures," he comments with a mischievous gleam in his eye.

Logan gives your dad a small smile before turning back to you. "Your dad has some pretty interesting stories too," he says nonchalantly, attempting to lighten the mood.

You nod and laugh, thankful for the distraction. "Yeah, my dad always has some wild tales," you say with a smirk.

As breakfast continues, the atmosphere becomes more relaxed and comfortable. You find yourself trading playful banter with Logan and your dad, the earlier awkwardness fading away with each passing moment.

After finishing their meal, Logan stands up and stretches before giving you a warm smile. "Thanks for breakfast," he says sincerely. "I should probably head out now."

Your heart sinks a little at the thought of him leaving so soon, but you understand. "Yeah, thanks for everything," you reply softly.

Logan gathers his things and your dad gives him a friendly pat on the back. "Take care, buddy. You're always welcome here," he says warmly.

As Logan walks towards the door, you watch him leave with a mix of longing and hope for what the future may hold between the two of you.

- - - - - - -

[babydollmarauders]

WRAPPED UP IN A BOW — QUINN HUGHES

quinn hughes x fem!reader

12 DAYS OF KINKMAS

summary: in which y/n welcomes Quinn home with a gift

warnings: NSFW CONTENT, praise, oral (f receiving), p in v (unprotected). (3.1k words)

notes: welcome to day 8 of the 12 days of kinkmas!

a week. seven days. one hundred and sixty-eight hours.

that’s how long my husband has been out of town.

four road games done and over with and now he’s finally coming home to me.

in retrospect, getting married at the very end of the summer wasn't the best decision Quinn and i have ever made. with no time for a honeymoon before he had to be back in Vancouver for training camp, and then hockey season starting, we've had barely any time to relax and bask in the joy of being newlyweds.

which may be why i'm feeling particularly in the holiday spirit. one more home game and then we get almost an entire week to laze around, celebrate the holidays, and just enjoy the life of being newly married.

i’ve spent the last three days decorating our apartment; a wreath on the front door, our tree with ornaments hung gently on the branches, mistletoe over every doorway. miscellaneous holiday themed trinkets are scattered throughout our home.

but my favorite part of the past few days isn’t the decor, or the music i’ve had blasting, or even the christmas cookies i baked. rather, it’s the idea that popped into my head while shopping for all of the said decor online; when i found a body bow.

and after numerous hours, which were impatiently waited through, and countless youtube tutorials, i sit perched upon the end of my bed, wrapped snugly in the red satin bow.

my breasts are tied high and taut, pushed together tightly by the soft fabric and half covered by the oversized bow; while a strip of the satin reaches over one shoulder and through my legs. technically, all intimate areas are covered, but with one tug of the bow, it would all unravel, leaving me naked and ready. a present for my husband to enjoy.

my eyes are glued to my phone, Quinn’s location dancing across the screen, getting closer and closer to our apartment with each passing second.

it’s not often that i would be awake so late, waiting up for him. often times, i’m asleep when he gets back from a roadie, only waking up when i feel his strong arms wrap around me in bed.

as his location pings at our apartment complex, my heart beat rises in my chest, excitement pulling at my every atom. i’m shaky, phone haphazardly tossed onto my nightstand before i get into position; legs crossed and my weight leaned back on my hands.

it feels as though time is dragging on, towing through metaphorical mud. seconds feel like hours as i wait to hear him enter our apartment.

all the lights are off leading into our room, adding to the illusion that he’ll find me fast asleep.

i’m so lost in thought, knees bouncing in exhilaration, that it isn’t until i hear footsteps bounding down the hall that i realize he’s arrived. blood whirls in my ears, my skin heating up at the mere thought of his touch.

“no, she’s probably asleep.” his words carry through the echoey hallway, “Jack, i’m not waking my wife so you can ask her relationship advice. just call her tomorrow.”

i bite back a laugh as i listen to the one sided conversation with his brother. Quinn’s voice turns hushed as he gets closer to our bedroom, obviously attempting not to ‘wake’ me.

the doorknob twists, the door creaking open to display my husband. his head is down, phone pressed to his ear as he carries his road bag into the room. even from here i can see the crease thats formed between his threaded brows, dark bags accentuated under his green eyes.

he turns, gently closing the door behind him with minimal noise, but when he turns back around, his eyes meet mine. his eyes widen, lips parting with a gentle huff of air before he mutters a quick parting to his brother.

“i gotta go, just call her tomorrow.” the call is quickly hung up, his phone set on the dresser with his bag, never breaking eye contact.

“welcome home.” i watch with a crooked smirk as his eyes rake over my figure, slowly dragging down my body before scanning his way back up.

“fucking shit.”

a giggle rises up my throat at his curse, his steps towards me hurried. he sinks down to his knees, eyeing the intricate bow that graces my body. with his hands finding my knees, he carefully pulls my legs apart so that he can fit between them.

“shit, baby,” he pauses, teeth sinking into his bottom lip for a moment, “this all for me?”

i nod, peering down at him with the most innocent eyes that i can summon.

“mhm,” my tone is quiet but sultry, “played so well, and i missed you so much.”

he stands, towering over me now with a dark expression, his pupils blown out in lust.

“yeah? you missed me?” he questions, coaxing a nod of my head, “how bad?”

“so bad, Quinny.” i whine, hands grasping at his tie.

“did you touch yourself? you push your fingers into your pretty pussy? imagine they were mine as you made yourself cum in our bed?”

his words elicit a broken whimper from my throat, my eyelids fluttering as he wraps a hand around the back of my neck, forcing me to tip my head up to him.

“did you imagine my head between your thighs?” his voice drops, “my tongue licking your wet cunt? making you scream?”

my legs are shaking to close, to clench together and bring some much needed relief to my soaked core; but his body blocks me from doing so.

“yes.” i breathe out, eyes closing as he dips down to capture my lips in a bruising kiss.

his tongue slips past my parted lips, the result of a sudden gasp after his fingers curl into my hair, tugging just slightly.

the kiss is messy and deep, tongue’s tangling and pushing against each other, and when he pulls away, saliva coats my lips.

“lay back, baby.”

i drop back at his demand, hair sprawling across the soft mattress behind my head, and watch as best i can as my husband lowers back down to his knees until i can no longer see him.

it’s not but a second later that i feel his soft lips brush against my inner thigh, kissing a path up my leg. an unignorable pulse sparks between my thighs, thumping harder with each kiss, as he gets closer and closer to my wet heat.

wanton moans break the silence of the room, my body quivering with lustful anticipation; but before he can reach the spot in which i need him most, he pulls back, steadily repeating the process on the opposite leg.

a muted whine pulls from my lips as he shifts his path, bypassing my covered core and kissing up my torso. our eyes lock in a heated exchange, neither set looking away, as his open mouthed kisses reach an end, the oversized bow blocking his path.

but just when i think he’ll back away, he captures one tail of the bow between his teeth, slowly pulling back to unravel the satin knot. the glossy fabric falls off my chest, pooling around my body, revealing my bare breasts. my nipples are peaked with desire, stiffened by a mixture of lust and the cold air.

Quinn stares down at me, admiring my exposed figure, before he continues his journey, pressing wet kisses up my sternum. as he reaches my throat, he begins sucking, teeth grazing against my skin before he presses his tongue against it, pulling away to blow cool air against the spot.

shivers travel down my spine, my back arching up into him as he finally presses his lips against mine once more.

“so beautiful.” he mumbles, his hot breath fanning across my lips, swollen and indented with the mark of my teeth.

dragging himself back down to his knees, my jaw slackens as his breath hits my core.

“you’re dripping for me, baby.”

his tongue darts out, licking a slow stripe up my cunt, and my head tips back further into the mattress, my legs pulled over his shoulders as he groans.

“you really are a fucking gift.” he growls, his fingertips tightening in a bruising grip on my thighs.

my breath catches in my throat, blood rushing to my head as his tongue flattens against my clit. he wiggles it back and forth, softly playing with the bud of nerves.

my hands fly forward, tangling into the fluffy waves of hair that fall onto his forehead. as his tongue tenses, trailing down to flick into my entrance, he spreads my wetness, earning a harsh tug of his hair.

my grip coaxes a laugh of confidence from my husband, his chuckles reverberating through my core, and a screamed cry of pleasure echoes off of our bedroom walls, his name falling from my lips like a solemn prayer.

“Quinn, please,” i whimper, a single digit swiping through my wetness and making my voice falter into a high pitched moan.

“doing so well for me, baby.” his praises set my skin alight, heartbeat thumping in my throat.

his middle finger delves slowly into me, curling up into my g-spot as his lips enclose gently around my clit. pumping in, he slowly gets me ready, slipping his index finger in when he deems me lubricated enough.

my thighs close around his head, his free hand snaking his way around to push my leg open, a choked sob of arousal leaving my throat.

i can feel my orgasm creeping up on me, my stomach tying in knots as my eyes roll back.

suckling at my clit, he rolls it softly between puckered lips, his fingers alternating between hooking upwards and scissoring my cunt, slowly stretching me out and preparing me for his cock.

as his fingers speed and his tongue begins to circle and flick against my clit, my legs shake, hands gripping tighter into his hair while curses fall from my lips.

“Quinn,” tears gather along my waterline at the immense wave of pleasure that rolls through my body, “oh my god, right there!”

the tips of his fingers push against my g-spot with every thrust, my back arching as i can feel myself get closer and closer to the edge.

my husband moans, vibrations carrying through my core and spurring me over the edge. my walls tighten around his fingers, trapping them inside of me, and my hips grind against his soft lips as i reach my release.

heavy breathing sounds through the room as i lay back in ecstasy, recovering from my intense orgasm. pulling his cum coated fingers from my dripping pussy, Quinn’s lips pull away from my swollen clit with a pop.

“you taste like heaven.” he hums, coaxing my eyes to open, watching him suck his fingers clean of my release.

“Quinny,” i breathe out, hands reaching out to pull him forward by his tie as he rises from his knees, “i need you.”

“i’m right here, pretty girl.” he gruffs, a hand resting on the bed next to my head, holding himself up as he hovers above me.

he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to the spot where my jawline meets my ear. trailing up until he reaches my chin, he suddenly diverts, his lips meeting mine in a gentle kiss.

our lips dance together, his free hand grazing up my body until he reaches my breasts. his thumb rubs over my stiffened nipple, circling it lightly before pinching, the stark contrast drawing a moan from deep within my throat.

i can feel his erection pressing against my upper thigh, my hips jolting up into his in order try and relieve some tension.

pushing lightly at his chest, Quinn immediately backs away, worry filling his eyes, “what’s wrong? did i do something?”

rather than answer, i sit up, beginning to untie his tie. i pull it free from his collar before my hands push at his suit jacket.

“take it off,” i whine as my hands fumble, “all of it, Quinn. i need you. i need to see you.”

his hand cups my cheek, thumb rubbing over my cheekbone as he chuckles, eyes looking into mine.

“get up on the pillows,” he gruffs, watching with fervor as i follow his command, kicking the long forgotten satin fabric off the bed and onto the floor. “good girl.”

sitting with my back propped on the pillows, i watch my husband undress; his suit jacket tossed on the dresser, his button up dropped to the floor as well as the undershirt, before finally the clink of his belt sounds through the silent room.

i admire his upper body as he undresses, mentally praising all the hard work and training that’s led to his muscular arms and tight physique. my mouth waters and i yearn to press kisses to his pale torso, but i stay rooted in my spot, knowing better than to move.

fully naked, his cock stands tall, fully erect with a pink tip, precum beading at the slit, and i don’t think before my hand reaches out, wrapping around his length as he crawls over me.

i squeeze just slightly, my thumb running over his tip and spreading the precum, earning a hiss of satisfaction from my husband.

“stop,” he groans, vocal chords tight, “you want me to fuck you, right?”

i peer up at him with innocence, nodding my head quickly.

“then don’t be a greedy little slut,” my hand drops at his words, allowing him to take a deep breath, “hands and knees, baby.”

i scramble into position, craning my neck to watch his facial expressions as he grabs his base, guiding his cock through the lubricant of my residual cum.

my body shivers as he glides himself through my slick folds, wetting his dick thoroughly. he slides over clit, my legs instantly wobbling as i make a silent squeak.

“Quinn,” my voice shakes, but before i can continue, he’s pushing into me, my back contorting as he runs a hand over my spine.

“that’s it, baby,” he coos after i let out a loud moan, “take it like a good girl.”

i reach back with one hand, desperately grappling behind me for his touch. my request is granted when he grabs my hand, holding it in earnest as his other holds my hip.

“fuck me,” i cry, pushing backwards to sheath him entirely inside of me, “please, i need you to fuck me.”

Quinn clicks his tongue against his teeth, my head hanging forward as he stills, teasing me. i part my lips to begin begging again, but he silences me quick, pulling entirely out before slamming back into me.

he drops my hand in favor of gripping both hips, fucking into me with harsh and unforgiving thrusts.

my arms feel like jello beneath me, quivering with every graze of his tip against my g-spot, until finally i fall to my elbows.

his thighs smack against mine, each thrust pushing me further up the bed until i have to place my palms on the headboard, keeping me steady as my knees dig into the memory foam mattress.

“so fucking wet,” he grunts, pulling my focus to the lewd sounds of his cock sliding through my wetness, “my pretty fucking wife, so ready for me; so easy to please.”

i whine at the use of ‘wife’, the title still bringing goosebumps to the top of my flesh.

“yours,” i gasp, eyes rolling back as he slows his strokes, angling his hips for his cock to run over my g-spot, “all yours. your wife.”

“yeah, you like that, don’t you?” he breathes, “you like being my wife? you like letting me fuck you and call you mine? forever.”

his hand slides to my front, sprawling over my stomach before dipping down to let his finger apply pressure to my pulsing clit.

“yes!” i squeal, hips jerking from the pleasure, “yes, Quinn, yes!”

his finger draws circles on my clit, thrusts speeding as i clench around him.

“who am i?”

my stomach fills with pressure, toes curling as my hair falls into my face.

“my husband!” i scream, legs shaking underneath me.

his finger never relents, my overworked clit tingling, and i can barely stutter out that i’m close before he’s leaning forward, pressing kisses to my sweat coated back.

his soft lips against my heated skin send me over the edge, my eyes drawing shut as i let out an intense breathy moan. my walls clench but his thrusts never ease, only fucking into me with more intensity as he chases his own high, and within a minute, he finds it.

his hips falter, his grip tightening on my hips as he lets out a strangled cry, ropes of cum spilling out of him and mingling with my own.

it’s silent as he stops, nothing but heavy pants and the squelching sound of him pulling out, before he lays down, finally allowing me to drop onto my stomach beside him.

a breathy chuckle leaves his lips, my face buried into the pillow beside him, and he reaches over to scoop me into his arms, helping turn my body until my head is resting in the crook of his neck.

“what a welcome home present.” he laughs, still out of breath, and i giggle into his neck.

“figured you might like that.” i yawn, eyes fluttering shut as i rest a hand on his chest, “well worth staying up.”

“hey,” he coos, head back away in order to look at me. i pry my eyes open, staring up into his, “don’t go falling asleep yet, baby. you need a bath.”

i groan, attempting to burrow further into him, “but i’m so tired.”

he rolls his eyes at my drawn out whine, gently nudging me off of him so he can stand up.

“i’m gonna go draw a bath and get some wine. you don’t fall asleep.”

i nod sleepily, pulling myself up in a sitting position to keep myself from dozing off.

it’s not but five minutes later that Quinn returns, helping me into his arms and carrying me into the bathroom. he sets me down into the hot water of the bubble bath, grabbing the wine glasses off the counter and handing them to me before he slips in behind me, taking his glass back.

having out a deep sigh, i relax into his chest, his free arm wrapping around the front of my waist.

“so,” i start, making him laugh at my tired tone, “how was the trip?”

[valkyrie1435atla]

If This is a Dream, Don't Wake Me - MASTERPOST

Welcome to my blog dedicated to my Avatar: The Last Airbender fan comic. This is the masterpost with links to every part in chronological order, and the link to the spotify playlist of songs I've used in the video version of the comic. It will be updated with every new part I release.

-Synopsis- Team Avatar failed to defeat the Fire Nation, and suddenly find themselves back at the beginning.

Part 1: One Door Closes...

Part 2: Another Door Opens

Part 3: Lazarus Syndrome

Part 4: This Pain is Familiar to Me

Part 5: Delay (My Body Catches up to my Mind)

Part 6: You are Different From Yesterday

Part 7: Meeting you for the First Time (Again)

Part 8: We Need to Talk

Part 9: Get it Right This Time

Part 10: Tense

Part 11: A Change

Part 12: Boiling Point (My Worry Tears me Apart)

Part 13: Play-by-Play

Part 14: MORTEM OBIRE

Part 15: I Think Of You As My Own (All That Matters)

Part 16: Witness

Part 17: A Thankless Job

Part 18 is on HOLD- REDRAWS of parts 1-9 are in progress, in preparation for the posting of this comic on Archive of our own. Expect updates to continue as normal by the end of September.

~

-things to keep in mind-

I am only one person. This series is not my top priority in my life, it comes second to college, work, self care, etc. I am however extremely passionate about this work, and will update whenever I have the time.

I am an artist, not a writer. While I am working to improve my writing skills, some story elements may have continuity errors, and characters may act ooc sometimes. I really appreciate advice on how to write better

My preferred method of telling my story is through music. The video versions are up on my TikTok (@ valkyrie1435) and will be posted here eventually as well. I will definitely draw in a comic format, but to get the full experience, watch the videos.

This story will feature many of the main cast members, but it is primarily Zuko-centric. He is my special interest character, so naturally I draw him the most.

I am autistic, so my interactions in comments and asks may be awkward.

If you have a question not related to this comic, ask it on my main account, @valkyrie1435 also, don't write an ask if you don't have a question. Please use the comment/reply feature on posts.

I need validation. Like any other artist, I can only motivate myself for so long without outside feedback. Commenting and engaging with posts is very encouraged!

The story is a work in progress. I am not entirely sure the direction this series will be taking, so feel free to speculate or give suggestions on what you would like to see.

Ships will not be a focus. If you are looking for atla ship content, you won't find it here.

Link to Spotify playlist of songs I have used in the video version of the comic V

[kaylopolis]

Alastor's Shadow (18+) Chapter Five

Alastor x F!Reader, Alias: Thestral

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months sooner than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. Afterall, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plans brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down, but also challenge your grab for power… 

Tag List: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

____________________________________________

Author note: Dear Hoteliers, This was my first attempt at smut (I giggled posting this, I am so excited!). I am new, but any advice is welcome! I tried something different with formatting (you'll see when you get there). I didn't want anything to be spoiled while ya'll rode the emotional rollercoaster that is this chapter. Let me know if it was weird and didn't work (or if it did that would be great!). I also added a link to the music found in a later part of this chapter in case you wanted to listen while you read.

<3 Stay smutty

Chapter Five - Night's Mistress

Content Warning: Blood, Blood Play, Murder, Choking, Graphic Sexual Scenes Involving Violence, Smut, MINORS DNI! (let me know if I missed anything else!)

The pull behind your navel felt foreign. 

It didn’t come with the taste of honey or the scent of daffodils like Rosie’s summons normally did. It didn’t come with a hint of sass or flood your mouth with spice like Carmilla’s. Crimson’s tasted of red pepper flakes and copper - a disgusting combination - but he was no longer an issue. 

This pull, however, was new and terribly, terribly… boring. 

Has one of your cards fallen to a rogue with sticky fingers? Has one of your holders died and a new holder taken their place? 

Whomever it was, the pull made you pause atop your perch overlooking V Tower. With Vox’s new Angelic Security soon to be released, you didn’t know how close you could get to the media demon’s headquarters. So you sat a few buildings away, scanning the horizon for any newfound technology that might impede your nighttime endeavors. 

There was another tug. 

Jesus, impatient much? 

You stood, stretching the stiffness from your legs. It was late, you’ve been out here for hours watching absolutely nothing happen. All the Vees like to do is sit, drink, and talk shit. Seriously what did they get out of their friendship? Was it friendship? Or were they all fucking? Ugh, you did not want that picture in your head.

Okay, time to go. 

You jumped, allowing the smoke to envelop your form. Feeling the pull, you headed toward the inner part of the city. Circling Heaven’s Clocktower, you broke off back toward the Magne District - the district that held the Hotel. Except you weren’t headed for your new home. The pull brought you left, almost to the border town but not quite, to an old tower.

In a plume of smoke, you landed on a balcony, the black swirls twirling about the landing before pooling over the sides. You were probably twenty stories up, the tallest building around. Not nearly as tall as V Tower - which the balcony gave you a great view of - but still, Pentagram City was striking. 

The balcony was connected to an apartment, reachable to the world only by an elevator at its center. Behind you was a wall of glass, heavy curtains preventing you from peering inside. On the balcony sat a small table, framed by two iron chairs. The setup was empty, except for your card which sat atop the table, a single drop of blood at its center. 

You took a step, your feet finding a puddle of red before you finally noticed the body. It was face down, scarlett flooding from a wound which wasn’t visible to you. It didn’t appear to be anyone you knew. Definitely a Human Sinner, but not one particularly interesting. 

So who in Hell summoned you? 

As if on cue, a zip of static runs across the back of your neck. 

Of-fucking-course…

“Ah, there you are,” Alastor emerges from the darkened apartment, shutting the door behind him with a kick of his heel, a smooth jazz playing on his radio.

Your heart skips a beat as his eyes find yours. Half-lidded, he smirks, a bottle of wine in one hand and a pair of glasses in another. 

Your eyes flit between the dead Sinner on the floor and the red demon before you. “You did not use your own blood?" This was a first. Cardholders always used their own blood. Although not directly stated, it was implied. 

“Heavens, no!” The demon places the glasses on the table, next to the obsidian calling card, as he uncorks the bottle using the tip of his claw. “We barely know each other. That would be too…” His eyes slid to yours. You feel his gaze rake over your form eliciting a blush beneath your cloak. “Intimate.” 

Jesus. 

You stifle a sharp intake of breath. 

Get your shit together. You’re a fucking Overlord for Christ’s sake. 

You drop his gaze, eyeing the half-dead pile of blood beneath your feet. 

“Ah, apologies for the mess,” Alastor snaps and the Sinner, along with the blood, disappears. “Wine?” The red demon holds a glass out to you, liquid sloshing in its basin. 

You look at your boots before moving, noticing he even wiped the blood from their leather. How thoughtful. 

Goblet in hand, you finally join the Radio Demon in the chair adjacent to his, and gaze out to the City. 

It was quiet, the hustle of Pentagram City’s nightlife drowned out by his jazz. Funny, you thought it almost peaceful. Could Hell be peaceful? No. That would be an oxymoron. Hell was designed not to be peaceful by definition. Yet all the way up here, tucked far back from the rest of the chaos, you could pretend it was. 

The demon sits back in his chair, crossing his legs at his knees. You hadn’t noticed it before, but his shoes have a print on the bottom - a deer’s hoof. How fitting. 

The obsidian calling card sits between you, a drop of scarlet crusting on its surface. Letters in white slowly fade from the card’s edge, signifying the death of the card owner. Whoever the Hell Stanley Jenkins was, Alastor had killed him and used his blood instead. Smart actually, for the card comes with its own parameters…

And to the Sinners without a card? That was a bit trickier. Only a handful of obsidian calling cards were in circulation, and only cardholders could summon you at will. To the lower rung demons without the honor, they had to go through back channels. That’s what you used Rosie for. The Cannibal Queen knew all the best gossip in town, her network of information reached every edge of the Pentagram. She was your starting point for potential hits - you took care of the rest. 

“A toast,” Alastor holds his glass out to you. “To power and chaos.” 

You freeze.

The demon clinks his glass with yours.

You had not heard that phrase in a very long time. 

You look to the Radio Demon and watch as he sips his wine, the red liquid kissing his lips as he drinks.  

More importantly, where had he heard that phrase? 

And then it clicks. 

Lilith. You last heard that from Lilith. 

“It isn’t poisoned. I assure you,” Alastor purrs, bringing your thoughts back to the wine. “If I wanted you dead, you’d already be dead.” The demon chuckles.

You shudder at the sudden static vibrating through your bones. 

You put a pin in this conversation - a mental note. You had more homework to do. 

You swirl the red around the glass, noting the alcohol crystals sticking to the sides. It was an older wine, a heavier red by the color. The liquid wooed you in scents of dark berry, cloves, and cedar. You could taste the tannins on your tongue before the liquid even hit your teeth. God, was it a thick red, so dry it left your mouth parched for more. Alastor couldn’t see your face beneath the hood, but if he could, he would see the moan you stifled behind closed lips. 

God, it was almost Heavenly. 

“One of my more everyday favorites,” Alastor smiled at the world below, his eyes sparkling with the reflection of City lights. “Although, I have far better in my cellar.” 

In my cellar. Your ears perked up at that, although you tried to hide it, the twitch of Alastor’s lips told you he had noticed. The Radio Demon knew something about you now: you liked wine. 

Was that what this meeting was all about? He wanted to gather more information on the Shadow? The way he made it seem at Carmilla’s was that there was a deal to be made. He thought you two could benefit from some sort of… partnership. Yet, you sit here and drink. 

This wasn’t how your deals often went. Usually, you showed up, and Sinners demanded action straight away. They practically begged you for your help, all too eager to make a deal. Lesser demons were pathetic, demons thinking themselves anything more attempted to look strong or intimidating, but the second they saw your eyes, they cowered. You’d like to think it the same as Zestial’s situation but you didn’t dare compare yourself to someone as great as him. 

Alastor, however, sat before you as an entertainer, a flatterer, a narcissist obsessed with his image. He didn’t just want to make a deal with you - if he did at all - he wanted to put on a show. Offering you a drink and a lovely view of the City communicated to you that he didn’t see you as a threat, but you already knew that. The question then was, did he respect you, and why did it bother you so much not to know? 

You turned the bottle to read the label: Stag’s Leap. How fitting. 

“Have you read the Allegory of the Cave*?” Alastor posits. 

You nod. Of course, who hasn’t read Plato? 

“When the man leaves the cave and makes it to the surface and is finally disenchanted with the shadows below, why do you suppose he returns?” Alastor takes another sip, waiting for you to answer, because he genuinely cares as to what you have to say. 

“To free the two he left behind,” your voice growls. 

“Hmm,” he ponders. “I supposed that as well, but never understood. To have the power of knowledge and to then share it… To not take advantage when it benefited him so. I see it as a tragedy.”

“Perhaps it is the Humanity in all of us.”

Alastor’s eyes flashed. “And if there is no Humanity left?” 

“Return…” Your lips curled, “and kill the other two.” 

Alastor tipped his head back and laughed, a deep chuckle from his chest. No laugh track followed. Was that genuine? A real laugh from Alastor and not the façade of the Radio Demon. Your heart skipped a beat in your chest at the thought. 

Focus! 

“Alastor, why have you summoned me?” 

The Radio Demon’s lips faltered ever so slightly, his cheery attitude hardening. He thought a long moment before answering. “It seems we have found ourselves in quite the predicament.” He places the glass on the table and folds his fingers in his lap, his attention on the City below. Your eyes follow his, all the way to V Tower. 

Ah, yes Velvette and Vox. 

“Velvette can be quite the troublemaker.” 

“And Vox can be quite the thorn.” You counter, taking another sip. 

God, the wine was so good. 

“I have… information worth your while.” His teeth shined. 

“And in return?” 

“A quid-pro-quo. I have been gone a long time, but my relationships with those I am… close with have held strong. That is the perk of being as old as I am. I am tried and true. You are new blood, officially worth a seat at the table. That seat will be tested.” There was an edge to his words now. “Do not take Velvette’s silence for inaction.”

You did not. 

Yet, what could Alastor know that you have not yet uncovered yourself? After all, you have been watching them these past few days. Surely something would have come up by now. 

You scoffed, finding the underlying meaning in his words. “Is that what happened with Vox?” 

The Radio Demon stiffened. There it was, a hint of that barely contained anger. Oh, how you would love to see it unleashed.

You sniffed, searching for the scent of rage, of jasmine green tea - the main reason why you loved the drink. Yet there was nothing. Irritation prickled your skin. You have never been able to not read someone before. What made this Sinner so special? 

“That is what you want from this… partnership, is it not?” You prod, hoping he will give away something, anything that might clue you in as to why you are here. 

The demon returned to his wine, a muscle in his jaw flickering with agitation. He didn’t like appearing weak. 

Narcissist. 

“The plans I have in mind are far bigger than that poor excuse for an entertainment system.” 

You snorted. 

Alastor’s strained smile softened. 

Hmm, a quid-pro-quo, huh? Still, he hasn’t said what he wants out of this deal. 

You took another sip to think, noting your glass was already empty. 

The Radio Demon cleared his throat, wine bottle in hand, gesturing for your cup. His fingers brushed yours as you handed him the glass, sending a wave of static through to your core. You pulled back too fast, bringing your arm to your chest. The demon’s eyes gleamed in amusement. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! You are not afraid of the Radio Demon, so why were you acting like an idiot? Never let your weaknesses show and you just gave him a clear indication that he intimidated you. You are a FUCKING OVERLORD. 

Why was this not easier with a mask on??? At the Hotel, you didn’t back down, but still, you let him think less of you. Not here. Here you are the fucking Shadow, you didn’t have to pretend. You had no reason to be so nervous. 

So why was the smile on his face and the look in his half-lidded eyes making your heart do backflips in your chest? Why was it when he handed the glass back you were conscious to not let your fingers touch his? Why were you so grateful for the space between you two yet also so, so irritated by it? 

“You still have not told me what you seek to gain.” You prayed your voice didn't sound as unnerved as you felt. 

His smile went cockeyed. “A mutual agreement. We stay out of each other’s way, yet seek out the other when we can benefit equally.” 

That didn’t sound like a partnership. That sounded like an alliance. Is this the same type of deal he had with Rosie? Interestingly, they seemed more like friends than something so surface-level as an alliance. Perhaps it started out that way and blossomed into one? 

The butterflies in your stomach kicked up in a flurry. The Radio Demon thought you were worth his time. Your cheeks heated. He thought you could help him - in some sort of capacity. God, why did that make you wanna squeal like a small child? 

“I will not be signing a contract,” you warned. 

Rosie informed you of Alastor’s contract crafting abilities. The demon was meticulous, bordering on obsessive when it came to exacting details. Line-by-line he would work and when it was finally done, the deal would appear flattering in what it would have to offer. Somehow, Alastor always made it seem like it was you who was the one to benefit. Yet, that was never the case. It was a trap, a beautifully disguised ploy which demoted you to a creature privy to his whim. Alastor was a master and the signee his pet - he would have it no other way. 

You’d die before you signed anything he authored. 

The demon laughed. Yet, underneath, there was a hint of irritation. “Oh, no. I did not expect that, I assure you. Ours will be one of a verbal agreement.” 

You let that marinate. He won’t be getting your name, but an agreement will still be made, and in Hell, that was a very powerful thing indeed. You’ve made plenty of verbal agreements before. Fuck, every hit you contracted was a verbal agreement - silence and the contractee’s soul in exchange for murder. The terms you set were quite simple, actually, yet strong enough to have kept any hint, any suspicion of who you are and how to find you, out of the mouths of Pentagram City’s most powerful. Yes, the media did try to track you down, even attempted to hunt you at one point, but they haven’t gotten very far. And they never will if you had anything to do with it…

You took a sip, letting the flavors melt off your tongue one final time, before standing and offering a hand. 

The demon’s eyes lit up with a crimson fire, his lips curling at the edges. He looked far too eager for this deal and that made you hesitate. 

Dealing with Alastor was like dancing - a dance you both pretended not to be leading but also refused to be the follower in. It was a game of power, you see. Yes, dancing had its steps and rules - a waltz is a waltz after all - but the direction it was going, the added flare to the spins, the story the choreography told - that was where you battled. Thus, you needed to be a half-step ahead of Alastor at all times - without him knowing, of course - until either the dance ended or you found a way to end him. 

The Radio Demon took your hand, and as you gazed into his eyes, you watched his pupils dilate. The glow of your yellow irises reflected in their dark center, an aura of red encircling your hooded form. A river of blue and green exploded from where your hands touched, twirling about you like the eye of a beautifully destructive hurricane.

The wind whipped Alastor’s hair about his face, his smile never faltering, his eyes never leaving yours as a connection snapped between the two of you. Like a thin string bridging your souls, you could, for a moment, feel Alastor on the other end, feel his static radiating from his core before the connection faded entirely.  

It was done. 

“A pleasure,” he purred. 

You attempted to step back and break away from his grasp, but the demon responded by clamping down and pulling you to him. You stumbled, your other hand coming to his chest to prevent your fall. The hood atop your head shifted back ever so slightly, but not enough to reveal your face or to give away anything underneath. 

The shadows engulfing your feet twirled and twirled about you, yet you remained frozen. Alastor was a solid wall of muscle beneath his suit; even with gloves on, you could feel the marble from which his chest was sculpted. You took a breath before you pulled your hand away before your brain finally caught up with the rest of you.

“Beautiful,” Alastor’s voice deepened. 

You dared a glance from beneath your hood and found the demon’s eyes locked on the silver embroidery of your cloak. With his other hand, he ghosted over the trim, his fingers tracing the hard edges of the stitching. Yet, at no point did he actually touch the black fabric. If he did, his fingers would phase through it, just as Velvette’s had at the meeting. 

Without saying anything, he dropped the grip on your fist, freeing you from his clutches. You stumbled backward, grasping your hood and pulling it forward to ensure it stayed in place. Alastor couldn’t remove it, but that little stunt he pulled almost ruined everything you had worked for. 

Your body grew cold as you backtracked to the railing, your little meeting coming to an end. You watched as Alastor’s grin turned into a lopsided smirk as he shoved his hands in his pockets, nonchalantly watching you flee.

Your instincts were screaming again, but this time, they were telling you not to let the demon out of your sight. 

Passing by the table, you noted the obsidian calling card. He would use it to summon you from here on out, but he would never be using his own blood. His real name would be made to you then, and he would never risk that. 

Take advantage of the power given, was what he recollected from Plato, and use it to slaughter others. 

“Velvette is using a third party to buy weapons from Carmilla Carmine,” the demon finally spoke, breaking the tension. He turned to the skyline, absentmindedly analyzing V Tower as he talked. “The female Vee, however, is not the fighter of the group, she leaves that to Vox and Valentino. Velvette destroys by reputation. She is not much to fear if armed, but if privy to certain information, she will use that to destroy her enemies.”

A.K.A do not let her find out who you are. 

You paused as your back hit the railing. You let your shadows build beneath your feet before you jumped in order to conceal your form as you flew. “Vox’s Angelic Security is in place but not online. It expands two blocks from V Tower. If anyone were to make a move, he would see it coming.” 

The Radio Demon nods. He pauses a moment before adding, “Carmilla killed the Angel.” 

You freeze, your heart skipping a beat. How the Hell did he know that? 

“Carmilla is monitoring the Vees,” The words tumbled out of your mouth as you grabbed hold of the railing. “She doesn’t want them making a move against Heaven.” You needed to get away. This meeting was getting dangerous. Losing your cool and almost losing your hood in the span of minutes? You were never this sloppy. Alastor made you sloppy. 

“Interesting,” his voice stopped you again. 

You spun, raising an eyebrow in question. His lopsided smirk only grew. “You didn’t ask me how Carmilla killed the Angel.” 

Fuck. He knew. He knew you already knew. He didn’t have to look at you to see the surprise in your eyes, he had figured it out by your response alone. 

“Goodnight, Alastor,” you gave a shallow head bow before jumping off into the night, Alastor’s fucking grin following you into the sky. 

____________________________________________

It was late when you returned. You took a few extra spins about Pentagram City before heading back, trying to collect your thoughts on everything that had just happened. 

You had surmised two important things: One, Alastor’s absence wasn’t just about Lilith. The demon somehow knew Lilith. Perhaps it was because of her that he left in the first place. Which you already somewhat suspected, but this confirmed it. Two, Alastor wanted the Vees dealt with, but he knew he couldn’t do it alone. 

A quid-pro-quo in taking out the Vees. Now, things were getting interesting. This didn’t derail your plans, however, little Ms. Morningstar was still heading in the direction you needed her to go for everything to work. You didn’t need the Vees for the endgame - you had other powers in your back pocket with far more influence than the three of them. Plus, the connections you were making at the Hotel were going swimmingly. Soon, not yet, but soon, you’d implement the next phase. 

Oh, if only Father could see you now - wherever the Hell he was. Did he fall to Hell or was he somehow topside? No. You’d know if he was down here with you. You’d feel it in your bones. Wherever he ended up, you were going to find him and you were going to make him suffer for everything he put you through. 

You weren’t just going to kill him - oh, no. He didn’t deserve a quick and clean death. It was going to be slow and torturous. You were going to make him feel every ounce of the pain he put you through and more. You’d take your time, after all; why rush? Hours, days, months, years; what use was putting a timeline to his punishment when it would never make up for what he did? No. You’d take your time pushing him to the edge, and when he was on the cusp of eternal darkness, you’d heal him and start all over again.   

Perhaps you did have a flair for murder like the Radio Demon. Your creative outlets were just significantly more specific - lying in wait for the perfect muse. 

Wrapping your fingers around the edge of the window pane, you quietly slipped inside. With a snap, your leather gear and cloak slipped into the Void, replaced with a silk pajama set: a tank top and shorts bordering on just too short. Scandalous, but you enjoyed burying yourself beneath layers of blankets while you slept. Any more clothing and you’d wake up sweating. 

Going for the bathroom, you turned on the light and paused. In the reflection of your mirror, you saw it: a red box wrapped in black ribbon. Your heart skipped a beat. 

Someone had been in your room. 

Hesitantly, you made your way before the coffee table and found a card perched atop the neatly wrapped bow. 

You leaned in and sniffed the package - Nifty. You were going to have to touch base with the Hotel cleaning lady after breakfast. From day one, you had made it quite clear - to her great disappointment - not to clean your room, let alone enter it. Perhaps you weren’t clear enough, for she felt it acceptable to leave this here as opposed to outside your door.

Doing a circle about the space, you inspected the sealing runes which kept certain individuals out, eyeing the shadows just in case. You had hidden the ancient magic in concealed places, even buying a rug to cover the one at the base of your door, and kept your most important things in your Void. It wasn’t the best place to store your leather and cloak - especially after the moth infestation a few years back - but it was a necessity at the moment. 

Then you went for the present. Pulling the black ribbon atop, you jumped back as the box split into fours, revealing a small radio. It was of a classic design and cathedral in shape, carved from mahogany and detailed in yellow and red. The device was simple, with only two buttons: an on-and-off switch and a volume dial. No tuning dial to change the channel? No chord to plug it in?

Fuck. How did he know? You racked your brain trying to figure out when and to whom you talked to regarding your sleepless nights. Rosie knew, but you hadn’t specifically discussed it with her lately. Did you say something to Husk in passing? To Angel while you were bitching at breakfast? 

Hesitantly, you turned on the device. A pleasant, smooth jazz echoed through the speaker: Paul Whiteman’s “Sleepy Time Down South.” Hilarious… The Radio Demon has a sense of humor. At least it wasn’t the screams of blood-curdling murder. 

After inspecting the radio three times over, you deemed it not a threat - although you kept it far away from your bed as you crawled beneath the sheets. With a snap of your fingers, the bathroom light turned off, plunging you into a cocoon of darkness, enveloped by the lullaby of sweet jazz…

____________________________________________

At some point in the night, you awoke, your mouth parched and throat dry.  

🎶 It’s not the pale moon that excites me 🎶

Alastor’s radio switches over to a new song, the music seeming to follow you as you make your way to the kitchen. The hallways were silent, the Hotel Natives snoozing away in the late hours of the night. 

🎶 That thrills and delights me 🎶

You pass by the library as a zip of static runs its way down your spine, stopping you in your tracks. Alastor stood before the fireplace, flames roaring in its hearth, casting an eerie glow throughout the room. The demon faces the fire, his attention on the crackle of the logs as they whittled away into ash. He was still dressed in his three piece suit you saw him in only hours ago, his ears pressed flat against his head in irritation. Something was bothering him. 

🎶 Oh, no. It’s just the nearness of you 🎶

He pretended not to notice you standing there staring at him from the hallway, but his shadow didn't. It zipped around your feet, twirling about your ankles in greeting, before practically dragging you inside the room. And when it had you well within the confines of the space, it flew to the doors.

🎶 It isn’t your sweet conversation 🎶

The shadow slammed them shut. CLICK! Then locked them. 

You were trapped. 

🎶 That brings this sensation 🎶

Alastor tilts his head over his shoulder, his half-lidded eyes landing on you. The demon looked royally pissed. 

This was it, this was the moment.

Alastor had figured out who you are. Your hood had fallen farther than you thought and he had seen your face and put the pieces together. He knew you were the Shadow, the mysterious new Overlord, here to challenge his grab for Princess Morningstar’s power. 

And he was going to kill you for it. 

🎶 Oh, no. It’s just the nearness of you 🎶

You didn’t hesitate to summon your blue flames, preparing for a fight, yet he moved faster than your mind could comprehend. Between one blink and the next, Alastor appears before you, his hand wrapping around your throat so tight you choke on the lack of air. Grasping at his arm, you dig your claws into his skin, your demon form summoning, as you melt the red fabric with your flame. But he is unphased by the heat, pulling back and slamming you so hard into the wall that spiderwebs crack across the plaster. 

🎶 When you’re in my arms 🎶

You try to summon more flame to burn him down to the very core of his soul like you had done to thousands of Sinners before, but the blue fire does nothing to his skin. It singes the red fabric, turning it black, but his skin beneath is unharmed. 

Shit.

🎶 And I feel you so close to me 🎶

The demon leans in, a low growl emanating from his chest, his teeth glinting in the firelight as his eyes hone in on your neck. As the blood pumped through your jugular, you watched his pupils dilate and fixate on the vein. He was a Cannibal, a predator, a killer whittled down to pure instinct. Everything within him was screaming kill, kill, kill.

🎶 All my wildest dreams came true…🎶

Your lungs screamed as you choked out, “Alastor.” It was weak, barely a whisper, but it was enough to draw his gaze from your neck to your eyes. In his pupils, you saw yourself desperate and bordering on losing yourself to the darkness threatening to close in. Despite the fight you felt in your bones you looked terrified.

🎶 I need no soft lights to enchant me 🎶

His name slipping from your mouth, the quiver he saw in your lips, had cracked something within him.

🎶 If you would only grant me 🎶

His grip disappeared, allowing you a breath of air. 

🎶 The right to hold you ever so tight 🎶

You bent over, coughing onto the floor, sucking down breaths in gasps that make your eyes water. 

🎶And to feel in the night🎶

Standing, you held onto the broken wall, forcing yourself to stay on your feet, despite your knees threatening to collapse beneath you.

“Alastor, what the fuck…” And before you had a chance to finish your question, the demon wraps his claws around your chin and forcefully slams his lips into yours. 

🎶The nearness of you🎶

The kiss was anything but soft, anything but patient. The demon was hungry and starving, and only you could satiate his appetite.

His other hand presses your hip back against the wall as he kicks your legs apart, drawing a gasp from your lips. Alastor takes the opportunity to run his tongue across your bottom lip before snaking it into your mouth. His tongue finds yours, prodding, testing, tasting.  

He pushes you flush against the wall, his knee pressing higher and higher until it finds the pocket between your thighs, eliciting a gasp that turns into a moan as he pulls you onto him, forcing your clit in line with his leg. 

The demon smiles against your lips, finally releasing your chin to grab your waist, his fingers bunching in the thin material of your pajama bottoms. You take the opportunity to find the lapels of his jacket to give you something to grab onto as you arch into him, pulling him closer as you press your breasts into his chest. The demon growls, a deep rumble emanating from within as he bites down on your bottom lip. 

Copper floods your mouth, turning the kiss sweet, but for Alastor, it’s a frenzy. He was no longer satisfied with just tasting you. He had to devour you.  

The silky material of your pajamas was oh-so thin. No underwear or bra beneath them, you were practically naked as the tips of his claws sank into the meat of your hips, beads of red pebbling on your skin. 

God and the pain only added to the pleasure building between your legs, only made your head swim as his lips slid over yours, capturing every drop of scarlet flooding your mouth. 

The demon helps guide your hips as you ground your clit into his thigh, wetness seeping into the silky material before pooling onto his pants. The room flooded with the scent of warm vanilla.

This man had you soaked, had your lips dripping as you ground into him faster and faster, your pleasure building with each roll. Alastor finally released your mouth, his teeth finding your neck, but he didn’t bite. Instead, he teased. He ran his tongue along the dip of your collarbone, tracing it to the spot where your shoulder met your neck, before finally running it up to your ear.

You moaned when he took your lobe into his mouth, nipping at it with his teeth. Alastor instinctively rolled his hips, his cock tenting his pants, grinding on nothing but air. 

Suddenly, it wasn’t enough. The friction wasn’t enough. You needed more. Needed more of him to push yourself over the edge. 

“Al…” You breathed into his ear between moans, your fingers trailing down to the twitch in his pants, but stopping when you hit his belt. “Please…” You tugged.

The demon laughed, capturing your groans with his mouth before answering, “No.” 

You blinked. “No?”

The demon puts a hard stop to your hips, pausing your grinding and the build in your pleasure. He grabs your hand on his belt and captures two of your fingers in his mouth. Sucking with his lips, he circles your fingertips with his tongue, wetting them before guiding your hand back down to your clit. 

“I want to watch,” he smiles against your cheek before he wraps a finger under your chin and brings your face up to his. “Fuck yourself,” he commands. 

And you obeyed.   

Your two fingers find the apex of your pleasure beneath your shorts, and you moan, wetting your clit with his spit as you circle the bud.

You barely have to touch yourself, you’re already so close. 

Alastor does nothing to help, save for his gaze, save for his breath which matched yours. The demon’s eyes glittered with heat and desire as they bore into you. He could feel the pleasure radiating off of you, could feel it as real as you could feel his static on the other side of the bond you formed today. 

“Good girl,” he growled, his cock twitching in his pants with each moan that escaped your lips. 

“I’m close,” you whined, twirling your fingers faster and faster, feeling the pressure build between your legs. 

Alastor dug his claws into your skin, his gaze soaking up every look of pleasure on your face, his ears absorbing every moan, his cock hardening with every swipe of your fingers against yourself.

“Cum for me, darling.” The demon’s lips curled as he swiped the hair from your eyes, sticky with sweat. He wanted to watch as you sent yourself over the edge. He wanted to miss nothing.

And just as you reached your climax...

. 

.

.

.

.

(Keep scrolling)

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

...you wake up in bed, your screams of pleasure drawing you from sleep. 

Your orgasm spasmed through your body, your legs twitching as you rode the wave, your pussy clenching on nothing but air…

Fuck, it was the best orgasm you had ever had, nevermind that it was your first.

And when it was over and your mind sobered, you realized it was all a dream.

You never woke up for a glass of water.

You never found Alastor in the library. 

Grabbing a pillow, you launched it at the radio on the coffee table but missed by a mile. Burying your face in the sheets, you screamed. You screamed until your lungs burned because anything was better than acknowledging the truth.

Anything was better than acknowledging that you just had your very first wet dream, and it was of Alastor, the Radio Demon.

Muahahahaha! Remember it's a slow burn ;)

-> Chapter Six

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

*Plato's Allegory of the Cave

Tag List (Let me know if you want to be added):

@sirens-and-moonflowers @wonderlandangelsposts @saccharine-nectarine @goyablogsstuff

[pochipop]

＃MYSTIC MESSENGER !! ♡ — BEING VULNERABLE WITH YOU.

#. synopsis! — how they show their trust .

#. characters! — jumin, zen (hyun), yoosung, saeyoung (707), saeran (ray), jihyun (v) .

#. warnings! — slight angst.

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

#. a/n! — come join my discord server? it's newly opened with a fantasy bakery theme! we have emojis from genshin impact, honkai star rail, sanrio, overwatch, pokemon, mystic messenger, and more! a collection of funny stickers, channels to promote yourself, meet new friends, share your writing/art, + lots more! plus, our staff is very chill and friendly! we'd love to see you there! <;33

＃ JUMIN !! ♡

Jumin, who never really thought himself to be the romantic type, but loses himself so easily in his relationship with you that he’d do anything imaginable just to see you smile for him. This sophisticated, pressed-suit wearing, stone-faced man who just crumbles when it comes to you, —who once thought love was some sick ruse made to rope people in and keep them hostage to their feelings, suddenly realizing that this rush is marvelous, and he can’t quite clearly remember a time before his heart seemed to beat for you. This man who swore he’d never love someone enough to put aside everything else on his mind and just live in the moment who sheds that dry cleaned business attire at the end of every workday and lets himself come undone for you. His walls come down and he welcomes you inside, and for once, he’s not scared of what will happen when you see the parts of him that perhaps aren’t as pretty as others. He lets you see the beautiful mess he’s made of himself over the years, and it’s then that he begins to pick up all these tattered pieces, finally preparing to put himself back together again. And recognizing you’ll help him do so is the sweetest comfort he’s ever known.

＃ HYUN (ZEN) !! ♡

Hyun, who stops pretending to be perfect over time and lets you see him in all the stages of healing. This man who often shields himself from the world, hiding behind a mask of narcissistic confidence, who finally lets his imperfections seep through to the surface and breathes another sigh of relief every single time you stay in the aftermath. He lets you in on the insecurities that lap at his ankles much more often than he'd ever had liked to have admitted before. He lets you hold him when he shatters instead of pushing you away, —dulls all his rigid edges to feel your warmth surround him, as if lowering all his defenses for the very first time. The world can be a cruel place to those that have made mistakes, but Hyun feels like he's finally found someone who can look at him for more than just the pretty, well-kempt face he maintains for the public. There's no sense of shame he feels the need to drown in when you let him fall apart in your arms. There's no crushing feeling of disappointment or suffocating feeling of disdain. He's more human than he fears he's ever been when your thumbs wipe the tears from beneath his eyes and you whisper to him that everything will be okay.

＃ YOOSUNG !! ♡

Yoosung, who learns over time how to not let things fester until they’ve built up so much he can’t keep them in any longer. For all he is and might not ever be, he’s come to realize that it’s okay to express his emotions before they reach a boiling point. He comes to you at the onset of upsetedness, —allows himself to feel frustrated without stuffing it down and pretending the problem doesn’t exist until it explodes. He finds that it’s so much easier to be earnest when you never talk down to him or make him feel like he’s any less of a person in your eyes because of it. Sometimes he needs advice, and other times, he just needs someone to talk to. No matter the case, he seeks you out before anyone else, knowing that you care enough about him to value his thoughts and opinions without qualifiers or regulations. He holds grudges sometimes that aren’t good for his own sake, and being shut down when he tries to address them only adds fuel to the fire. Having someone who truly listens and tells him that it’s okay to feel the way he does goes such a long way, —perhaps longer than you’ll ever know.

＃ SAEYOUNG (707) !! ♡

Saeyoung, who lets himself be honest eventually, —who lets himself chip away and then lets you smooth him over. He’s done a lot of things he’s not proud of, and he doesn’t need anyone to tell him that it wasn’t his fault. Whether it was or wasn’t doesn’t matter as much as what he knows he has to do going forward, and the last thing he really wants is to be coddled out of pity. He just wants to be heard, no sympathy necessary, no fawning over the way he sheds the skin he used to wear when he felt like happiness was millions of miles away. He just wants to be listened to. To Saeyoung, it’s the ultimate show of trust to admit to all the things he regrets, let them spill out like word vomit and not have to worry about the consequences. He doesn’t need you to understand, and knows you likely can’t given the specifics of his life’s course thus far, but knowing that you’re keen on carrying the burden with him is such an insurmountable feeling of relief. Finally, someone knows every grimy little corner of his soul and they still love him, still hold him, still want him. . . There’s nothing quite like it.

＃ SAERAN (RAY) !! ♡

Saeran, who lets little things slip as time goes on, —stares a little longer when he passes twin popsicles in grocery stores because he knows you won’t ask why. As much as he likes to pretend that he can fix things by pretending they never hurt him in the first place, there are always scars that linger just below the surface, ready to burst at the first sight of mint-colored liquids or at the first sound of deceptively sweet voices offering commands from the shadows. He carries a lot around with him wherever he goes, and just loving him until the sun dies isn’t a cure-all. You can’t turn back time and shield him from all the things in his life that have left him feeling like a shattered stain glass window. All the love in the world can’t fix the past. But there’s nothing that means more to him than knowing he can lean on you, —even if he doesn’t always do it. There’s such a sweet comfort in knowing he can turn to you when he feels like he’s drowning. And if sometimes that manifests only in letting himself shed a few tears while he eats an ice cream cone outside next to you in the sunshine, then so be it.

＃ JIHYUN (V) !! ♡

Jihyun, who talks about it all a little at a time, —about the good and the bad, the ugly and the beautiful; because it wasn’t always bad. There were times before you came in which he’d been so in love that he’d have done anything to stay exactly where he was, to freeze those moments up and keep them in a capsule that could never be shaken. And it’s important for Jihyun to tell you about those things every now and again, to let you in and reminisce on the way he’d once been so sure of it all, so ready to settle down and stay exactly where he was. But it’s equally as important for him to bare the remnants of the betrayal for you to kiss, and hold, and make peace with. He likes to think you understand him better in the wake of it, —that you’ve seen him in a new light every time he sits with you and tells you of the loss, the desire, the yearning, and all the ways he wishes things could have been different for everyone. In the end, he’s here, and there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

[da-rulah]

Rituale Septem - Day 7: Pride

Pairing: (Terzo x f!reader)

Summary: All Hallow's Eve is here, and you're more lost now than you ever had been. Whilst the Ministry gets ready for their biggest night of the year, you're dreading it. Will you reconcile your issues before it's too late?

Rating: Mature, MDNI 18+

Word Count: 18.1k (how tf did that happen...)

Warnings: angst, pining, arguments, lots of emotions, p in v sex, creampie 

AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

A/N: Here it is... the final chapter! I just want to thank anyone and everyone who has liked, reblogged and commented on this fic. It was the biggest project I've ever worked on (74,000+ words wtf...), and one of my favourites of all time. I'm so grateful for the love on it, and I hope this ending doesn't break too many hearts... Happy Halloween to you all! I love you 🫶🏻

Prev: Day 6 - Greed

October 31st: All Hallow’s Eve 

The hum of excitement in the halls of the Ministry travelled from sibling to sibling. On this, the most sought-after date in the calendar of any Satanist, the corridors were alive with jubilation. 

All Hallow’s Eve was a time for many to perform their rituals, to manifest for the year ahead, to reap the rewards since the last harvest season. While the majority of the world would ward off the evil spirits, demons and creatures of the night, the Satanic Church welcomed them. With November 1st being the Catholic’s traditional day of the Saints, tonight was reserved for the sinners.  

The most common use of this magical night, was to commune with the dead and the inhuman, and take advantage of the thinned veil between worlds as night fell. Offerings could be made for a fruitful season ahead, manifestations could be created and spells and rituals could be completed with deities and demons alike.  

Whether the Siblings were attempting something themselves or simply here to enjoy the night of mischief and leisure at the All Hallow’s Ball, the atmosphere within the stone walls was electrifying. There wasn’t a single Sibling in the Ministry who wasn’t looking forward to the festivities. 

Save for one. You.  

As you trudged through the halls towards Secondo’s office that morning, you felt like the only person whose world to had been drained of colour, as if a black shadow hung over you and blew out the flame of excitement of each person you passed. People stopped their conversations just to look at you, their smiles drooping when they saw the look you couldn’t hide in your eyes. Exhaustion, mixed with a hint of hurt.  

It emanated from you, and it was clear to see. A few Siblings you knew asked you if you were okay, sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the jubilation in the hallways but you dismissed each question with a nod and a well-rehearsed “I’m fine”. 

Based on Swiss’ advice yesterday, he had told you feeling wasn’t to be hidden away from; to deal with them instead. The first step to feeling with feelings, surely, was to feel them. And so, you allowed your misery to take over last night and soak your pillow as you failed to sleep. Your mind raced with thoughts of Terzo, images of the times you had spent in his arms, pressed against him, wrapped around him and completely and utterly enamoured with him.  

And then, you would torture yourself with the opposite; the scene you’d walked in on, his cruel teasing, his dismissal of you on fancy parchment. Each positive memory felt like a sooth to the burn, and each negative, a fresh, hot poker into the same wound.  

You could admit it to yourself now; the time spent with him not only in the last week, but since you had arrived in his office, poured your soul to him and began your closer, flirtatious relationship – if you could even call it a relationship – had been enough to show you a side you needed to get to know. You were falling for a man you could never have; a man incapable of love, it would seem.  

There was more to Terzo than people thought – that much you had learned. You'd seen hints of a sensitivity in him; an odd look here, a fond smile there, the mention of his dear Nonna, his somewhat unexpected knowledge of Opera... But you had come to expect too much of him, and gotten yourself into hot water. 

But every time you had tried to figure him out a little more, he’d held you at arm’s length or proven in some way that he was just as unbothered and disinterested as you feared. The more you thought about it through the night, the tighter the barbed wire around your heart squeezed.  

You’d considered not going to work at all today; you weren’t sure you could face people, much less Secondo. But against your better judgement, you’d thought a sense of normality might help to ground you.  

When you walked into Secondo’s office, he couldn’t hide the shock on his face that you’d showed. Don’t get him wrong, he was glad to see you, but he’d expected you to be... busy. You still had one final sin to go, after all.  

“Oh... B-buongiorno, sorella...” he stuttered a little in his surprise. “I thought you would be indisposed today? I don’t mind if you need to-” 

“I’d rather keep busy for a bit at least, Papa. If you don’t mind...” you interrupted, your voice quiet and subdued. His brow creased, concern flooding his ageing features. You missed it, avoiding eye contact as you sat at your desk.  

“What happened?” he asked sternly, “which stronzo do I have to skin alive?”  

Your lips quirked in a smile at his protectiveness of you; something you’d only noticed of him recently, but when you thought about it, had been present for a few years now. But unless he wanted to flay the skin directly from his brother’s own back, he would have to be kept in the dark on this one. 

“It’s nothing Papa, I’m just... exhausted. Long week,” you chuckled, devoid of humour entirely.  

“Of course, but it’s almost over, cara mia. One final push, so to speak,” he encouraged. But in your mind, it was already over. You weren’t sure you had it in you to attempt one more genuine devotion of sin. The weight on your shoulders had crashed around you last night and left you feeling far too broken.  

“Perhaps one final act would put fratello mio in a better mood, also,” he mumbled, shaking his head to himself as he busied his hands with filing invoices for the suppliers of tonight’s Ball. You looked up at him curiously. 

“I-I’m sorry?” you asked, as if you hadn’t heard. But really, you needed more information. Secondo sighed, ripping his spectacles from the end of his nose and letting his hand drop to the desktop. 

“Perhaps Sister Imperator is on his culo (ass) again, but he is acting unlike himself. He’s snappy, irritable... but then when he thinks I do not see, he looks sad,” he explained. “I had warned him the papacy was not for the faint of heart...” 

You thought over his statement for a moment. Sure, his role was demanding, and you knew better than anyone that Sister Imperator was a tyrant; she reminded you of Ms. Trunchbull from Matilda, yet somehow scarier, because she could be kind...  

But sad? What did he have to be sad about? Perhaps it was childish, but you found yourself getting defensively angry at the notion. How dare he when he’d caused, well... this.  

“I don’t think I’ll be seeing papa today,” you deadpanned.  

“Oh... is... Did he do something? Oh, Sorella, did you break his heart?” he teased, pouting dramatically to mock Terzo more so than you. He laughed to himself until he saw the look on your face, shutting himself up and tumbling headfirst into a thought process that led him into silence. 

Maybe his brother had done something. Knowing him, he had cocked up whatever bond he had managed to cement with you in some way. Secondo would lovingly describe his younger brother as un fottuto bambino in tunica (a fucking baby in a robe); immature and yet, held power. It would not shock him if he’d fucked this up, the way he seemed to fumble every potential romantic relationship he’d ever had. None of his conquests had ever moved past just that; his brother was far too terrified of feeling to admit to falling for anybody, and so, nothing ever came of his many charades with women and men alike.  

'What if he’s doing the same now?’ he thought to himself. Terzo did have a pattern, one Secondo had recognised when someone was getting too close to him. He would shoo them away, do something to make them hate him so that he didn’t have to be the one to break it off. Give them a reason to walk away from him, and then he could justify his solitude. 

“Oh, ragazzo idiota,” Secondo muttered to himself.  

“I’m sorry, what was that, Papa?” you asked, having missed it.  

“N-nothing... Sorella, you want to keep busy, sì?” he asked, dismissing his thoughts. You nodded, looking through your notebook to find an unattended task to take up. “Don’t busy yourself with paperwork, dolcezza. You should do something amongst the festivities! Get some fresh air; Primo has asked for you, actually. He’d like some help with pumpkin picking. His frail old hands aren’t what they used to be...”  

Secondo sounded overly kind, as if he were stepping around the issue. It didn’t come naturally to him, outward kindness. You always knew when he was putting it on, or trying to hard; he was most certainly doing that now.  

“Why would Papa Primo ask for me?” you asked suspiciously. He had his own assistant, not to mention the Ghouls were on hand for manual labour.  

Secondo just shrugged, “More like he asked for some help, and I put your name forward, if you were to be available. You don’t mind, do you?” 

Truthfully, no you didn’t. Fresh air may be a good idea, and particularly in the quiet seclusion of Papa Primo’s gardens when the rest of the Ministry would be preparing for tonight’s festivities. You could hide from their excitement and wallow in self-pity for a little; that sounded just fine to you. 

“I’ll head out to the gardens now. Do you need anything else from me, Papa?” you asked, standing and tidying your things away into your desk.  

“No, dolcezza. But... if my brother has done anything to upset you, I...” he stopped himself, trying to pick his words carefully. “Just know, he is a fool.”  

You stared blankly at him, blinking a few times whilst you tried to think of something to say back to him. You couldn’t quite decipher the tone of his voice, or the laced meaning in his words. But before you could give it much thought, he dismissed you to the rest of your day.  

“I’ll see you at the Ball, dolcezza. Don’t think you’re getting out of giving this old man a dance,” he smiled. Smiling looked unusual on Secondo’s face, but in this moment it felt comforting. You felt like he had your back, he was in your corner, batting for your team... He was telling you he’d make sure you enjoyed tonight, Terzo be damned and despite the success or failure of the ritual.  

He’d still be there; your friend. 

“Who picked this orange? It’s too bright...” Terzo grunted, swatting at the drapes Swiss was hanging up in the Great Hall.  

“Y-you did, Papa?” he answered from the top step of the step ladder Dew was holding still, frankly a little scared of the way Papa was acting today. While everyone else was in a particularly joyous mood, Terzo was on a war path. His mood was foul, snapping at anything and everything he possibly could.  

“Well... I... shut up,” Terzo threw his hands in the air and stomped off to check on the Siblings setting up the round dining tables and various casino games on the outskirts of the hall – Secondo's idea; a very big fan of the Vegas strip. His head was all over the place, unable to focus. Not only did he have to play the Papa role at tonight’s Ball, but he was battling with the thoughts of you at the same time.  

Did you complete your sin yesterday? With who? No, that didn’t matter. None of his business. Would you complete the ritual? Or had he fucked that up too? Lucifer, he’d never forgive himself. 

“Papa!” he heard someone called to him and quietly groaned at the footsteps quickly approached, clacking on the marble of the floor. “Papa, could I... eh, could I talk to you? Per uno momento, (For one moment,) I shall not keep you...”  

Terzo span on his heels in the middle of the dancefloor, having not yet reached the gaggle of Siblings arranging tableware on the opposite end of the Hall. His younger brother, Cardinal Copia, was scurrying towards him with a sheepish look on his face, a blush that gave away his shame.  

“What is it, fratellino? I’m a little busy with preparations...” Terzo tried to dismiss him, avoiding eye contact. He didn’t care to look him in the eye after Sunday, when he had seen you... on top of him.  

“Sì, sì, scusi, I just...” Copia stopped in front of him, lowering his voice from the rest of the Hall, “I have felt somewhat guilty since Sunday, Papa.”  

“How many times do I have to ask you not to call me Papa, Copia? Just Terzo will do,” he fussed, raising his hand to stop Copia’s protests about ‘lineage’ and ‘formality’. He completely glazed over the mention of Sunday, not wanting to address it at all. “You are my brother. It’s weird.” 

“Okie dokie...” he hung his head in apology. “But... Sunday,” he began again. Terzo raised his palm again.  

“I will knock next time,” he said. 

“Well, yes, but... I’m sorry,” Copia forced his apology on Terzo, willing him to listen to him, as if not having the opportunity to apologise was somehow paining him. He needed him to know his intentions. 

“What... what are you sorry for?” Terzo asked, confused and frankly, a little nervous. He had a feeling he knew where this was heading, his brother able to read him easily as he did most people.  

“I saw the look on your face, Terzo. It wasn’t just disgust at what you’d seen me doing. I saw rage, Terzo. And... pain.” Copia kept his voice low to not attract attention, his eyes searching his brother’s face for his reaction. He could have been way off base here, but part of him knew. It told him that no, he was right; Terzo was genuinely upset by what he saw. 

Terzo stared at his brother, his heart rate picking up in his chest. He didn’t need every damn brother knowing what he was thinking all the time, and he didn’t feel like having to explain himself or coming up with excuses. He didn’t have the energy to pretend today, and so, he began to turn and walk away.  

It was cowardly and he knew it; walking away from the truth, pretending it didn’t exist. But he couldn’t do this; not right now.  

“No, wait!” Copia grabbed his arm, quietly calling to him. Terzo stopped, hanging his head low and turning back.  

“Copia please, not here. I can’t... not today.” 

“When I walked into her in the hall that day, she was upset by something and I need you to know I don’t think she was in her right mind when she... dragged me to my workshop. She didn’t want me, she wanted something and I just happened to be there,” he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, “and I’m the weak and pathetic man who allowed it. Swept up, I suppose.” 

Both brothers shuffled on their feet uncomfortably, neither one speaking for a moment as they both wallowed in their shame. Terzo had known you were upset; of course he did, it was his doing. But he’d been able to ignore that for the most part, try and stuff it down in a suitcase he could throw to the bottom of a lake and forget about completely. But he didn’t realise it would float back to the surface. His guilt ate him up.  

“You’re... you’re not weak, Copia,” Terzo managed to say. It was possibly one of the nicest things he’d said to him in a long time, their relationship very much strained thanks to their estranged father. Copia simply smiled delicately in thanks and pity.  

“You should tell her, fratello.” Terzo laughed bitterly, at that.  

“Tell her what, exactly?” he shrugged, feigning ignorance.  

“How you feel,” Copia persisted, “I didn’t miss the anger on her face, either. I fear I came between something...” 

“I can’t tell her anything, Copia. She doesn’t deserve me,” Terzo’s gaze hardened, his jaw locking up tightly as he stared into his brother’s eyes.  

Copia frowned at that statement; what, you were not good enough for him? Copia knew you well enough to know he’d be lucky to find a woman half as deserving of love as you. He knew his brother could be a pig-headed and proud man, but that was potentially one of the most arrogant things he had ever said.  

When Terzo realised the annoyance on Copia’s face, he scoffed, shaking his head and staring down at his feet.  

“No, Copia... she doesn’t deserve me,” he looked up then, sadness filling his eyes and a soft sigh escaping his chest. “No one deserves that burden.” 

Without another word, Terzo turned and walked the rest of the length of the Hall, leaving the Siblings and Ghouls to their preparations, and a rather deflated looking Copia in the middle of the empty dancefloor.  

He just wanted to be alone. 

The chill in the air bit at your skin the second you stepped outside, wrapping your cloak tightly around you as you acclimatised after the warmth confined to the Ministry’s inner walls. The air felt fresh, with a dew settled as a low fog over the hills in the distance. The landscape looked quite perfect for All Hallow’s Eve morning.  

You took the short winding footpath that led to Papa Primo’s gardens, noticing you hadn’t come across another sibling or ghoul on your way through. They must be inside, getting things ready for the biggest night of the year or enjoying their freedom from seminars and work duty that came with the holiday.  

When you knocked on the door to Primo’s greenhouse, you heard a groan as if Primo had been sat when you arrived, dragging himself up while his aching bones protested. He came to the door, greeting you with a warm smile and open arms ready to engulf you in a hug you had come to expect of the eldest Emeritus. In his old age, he’d grown softer, and tended to greet his Siblings this way now. 

“Sorella _____! Oh, Happy Halloween to you, cara mio,” he beamed as you gently hugged him, careful not to knock his balance. 

“Happy Halloween, Papa,” you smiled, strikingly good at masking your sadness around him. Perhaps it was simply Primo’s comforting aura.  

“Did Secondo send you to help with the pumpkins?” he asked, taking a step back but grasping your hands in his.  

“He did,” you chuckled, “I needed the fresh air.” 

“Sí, sí, well let’s get started, eh? Would you fetch me a wheelbarrow from the tool shed, cara? I will find the clippers; those stalks are stubborn this year!” he turned in his spot to rifle through the shelves by the door, and left you to run to the shed and grab the wheelbarrow he’d requested, plus a camping stool for him to sit on. You met at the pumpkin patch, largely overgrown with an assortment of pumpkins the size of boulders down to footballs. You sat the wheelbarrow near the front of the patch, and took the shears Primo had collected from him. 

“Relax, Papa. I’ve got this,” you smiled sweetly, kneeling beside a group of pumpkins ready to cut into the stalks and pile them into the wheelbarrow while Papa rested on the stool you’d brought for him. 

“Ah, you think me too frail, Sorella?” he teased, instantly eating his words when he groaned taking a seat. 

“Not me, Papa. Your joints, however...” you laughed. Papa couldn’t deny that, letting you get away with the cheek for now with a fond smile.  

“I trust my brother is keeping you busy?” he asks, forcing your hand to pause it’s cutting as you looked back at him, wondering what he was getting at. He didn’t mean...? “Secondo? Is he keeping you busy as usual, Sorella?” 

“O-oh! Yes, of course. Always,” you laughed, relieved and turning back to the pumpkins. Primo smirked, knowing full well why you’d panicked. But he’d let it slide, for now.  

“Good, good... And you’re doing well in yourself, cara?” he asked, making conversation. Except, he was prying. Primo knew more than he was letting on, but he was manipulating the conversation in a way that you may be more forthcoming...  

But you didn’t know how to answer him. You wanted so desperately to be honest with him, feeling comfortable and trusting him but the fear of judgment and embarrassment made you hesitate. And you hesitated a moment too long, chewing on your bottom lip and stilling your progress on the pumpkin stem you were hacking into.  

Primo saw an opening. 

“Hmm... you said you needed the fresh air too, earlier. Cara mio, something is bothering you, is it not?” he asked, leaning forwards to rest his forearms on his knees, holding your gaze when you looked up at him beside you.  

“Well, I... um...” you stuttered, wondering how you would even begin this conversation.  

“It’s okay, fiorellina (little flower),” he softened his voice, reaching his palm to rest gently at your cheek that had pinkened now you were flustered, “I know you have been performing Rituale Septem,” he admitted.  

You froze; your body seemed to simply stop working, lungs and all as you held your breath. How did he know? What did he know? You were mortified... It felt like your Grandpa had just told you he’d heard you having sex; just icky. You hoped he didn’t think any less of you for it. His opinion of you mattered to you more than you realised.  

“I must say, it was brave to take on this ritual, Sorella. You must have been at your wits end to try and accomplish this. I’ve never seen it completed in my lifetime; it always gets too messy,” he praised, giving you a sense of relief that he certainly did not think less of you at all. But messy; yes. That’s one way to put it. “I hear it got messy, Sorella...” he spoke so softly, a look of sympathy on his face.  

“I think it did, yes...” you hung your head in shame, slowly beginning to cut back into the pumpkin stem you were working on. Primo hummed in acknowledgement.  

“Well done, _______. For fighting back, I mean. He plays too many games, il mio idiota fratellino, (my idiot little brother,)” he scoffed, shaking his head.  

“He told you, then?” you deduced, focussed entirely on this ruddy pumpkin stalk that just would not cut. You hacked into it, anger building.  

“He did, sí... Hey, hey!” he raised his voice, reaching out to your wrist to stop your assault on the stalk that had become entirely too violent. “Fiorellina, per favore! (Little flower, please!) Violence does not suit you.” He ran his gloved thumb over your cheek, wiping at a stray tear that had fallen and chilled on your cheek in the autumn air. 

“S-sorry...” you mumbled, letting the shears drop to the ground in front of you and sitting back on your heels in defeat.  

“I hate to pry, but... did you manage to complete a sin yesterday?” he asked, “Terzo said you had two left when he came to me. If you did, then there is still hope you can talk to Lucifer tonight.” Primo evaded the subject a little, putting a pin in the Terzo dynamic for the time being to understand what position you found yourself in now. He could only help with the full picture, and if you had failed yesterday, then attempting any sin today was futile.  

“Yes...” you winced, “Swiss and Dew... Greed.” Frankly, you’d felt guilty ever since. Whilst the Ghouls were lovely, and handled you well, took care of you and even stayed with you for comfort long into the night... It had felt weird to sleep with them when you were so clearly hung up on another man. You had used them; with their knowledge and consent, yes, but something still didn’t sit right about it now that your feelings of ugly jealousy and hopelessly unrequited adoration were painfully obvious to you. 

You picked the shears back up and began to cut into the stalk again, needing to busy your hands.  

“Okay, so one final sin. Have you given much thought to how you might accomplish this one? Pride, isn’t it?”  

Truth be told, you had thought about it briefly yesterday, and then given up hope. When you’d woken up this morning, you’d resigned yourself to failure already. You shook your head no, “I don’t think I’ll be completing this ritual, Papa.” 

“You don’t wish to speak with The Dark One?” he asked, straight to the point.  

“Of course I do, but... things have changed, Papa,” you sighed, finally cutting the stalk of the oversized pumpkin in front of you and moving to lift the bastard thing into the wheelbarrow. It dropped with a thud, and you knelt next to the smaller one beside the first, beginning to cut into that stalk also.  

Primo nodded in thought, knowing exactly what had changed; you’d fallen for his idiota fratellino. 

“You know, I understand wanting to give up, Sorella. Believe me, I do,” Primo shuffled, getting himself comfy as if about to tell a story. And he was. “When I was a young man, long before your time, I had wanted to give up too. I was a bishop, then. I couldn’t juggle everything... My responsibilities, my faith, mio fratelli... Our padre, he was too busy with women and drugs; eh, it was the 60’s. Everyone was experimenting, but he was absent, and with no madre in the picture, that was all down to me. 

“Terzo was... un incubo (a nightmare). Particularly after his madre passed. I cannot say I blame him, but... he tested me. I remember one day when he was seventeen, even his nonna could not rein him in. He thought he was big and clever going out to drink and sleep around and he was acting too much like il suo inutile padre, (his useless father). His nonna called me very early in the morning to tell me he had come home drunk and angry yet again, and I didn’t know what to do with him anymore. I wanted to give in,” he sighed, recounting the memory.  

“Truth be told, Sorella, I thought he had been too damaged to save. Nihil was not only absent most of the time, but a vile creature to his children when he did show. As a result, Terzo deals very badly with emotion. Particularly affection, or love...”  

Primo let the thought hang in the air between you for a moment, gaging your reaction. He had a point to make here, and he was spoon feeding you, guiding your thought process.  

“He’s never exactly received much love in his life, and when he does, it scares him. He finds a way to push it away from him before he’s even aware he’s doing it and then... it’s too late,” he sighed, finally making eye contact with you, who had stopped cutting into the next stem long ago to listen along. He noted the tears shining in your eyes and knew he was on the right track; he was chiselling away at the wall you tried to build between you and his brother. 

“Mio fratellino is constantly getting shit on from a great height, in a manner of speaking. Nothing he has ever done or will do is good enough for people; they expect more and more of him every day. I’m sure he feels he is not worthy of the love he deserves. But he is a proud man. Too proud... He would never admit he craves that acceptance.”  

You should have seen it. You should have known there was something more here, you’d even caught glimpses of it. You saw the stress on his face after your encounter with Secondo, his hand woven in his hair, brow creased at his desk. He’d talked about his nonna at dinner, how fondly he’d smiled at the mention of her. You’d felt the tension after he’d explained the opera to you, his internal battle of ‘should I kiss her? Should I not?’ playing out in his eyes – he'd denied himself then, you remember the disappointment...  

He was letting you in... and then shutting you out again. And you’d missed it every time.  

Primo saw your mind racing and let you have a moment, contemplating his words before he dove back in to chisel away further into that wall.  

“Sorella, I feel I must tell you something...” He leaned forward, taking the shears from you and taking your hands in his, “When he came to me on Sunday, he was angry. I believe he had just seen something he wished he hadn’t.” You knew what that meant, and you hung your head in shame. You felt unbelievably guilty now; sure, he had started it, but you had used his own brother against him.  

Primo picked your chin up, curling his finger underneath it to raise your gaze back to his above you.  

“He wasn’t angry at you, fiorellina. In fact, the only person he was angry at was himself. And perhaps a little at Copia, but that was misdirected... He kept babbling on about how he had ruined your ritual, how he was terrified you’d never forgive him, that you’d leave... My point, cara mio, is that not once did he say a bad word about you.” 

Your bottom lip quivered with unspoken emotion. The tears welling in your eyes spilled down your cheeks and chilled your skin. Words failed you, all you could think of was him, running the signs over and over in your head that he was holding back, that he was hiding. It had taken Primo pointing out the obvious, giving you background and context, for you to realise what had been happening. But now you had... what do you do? 

“P-Papa... What do I do?” you sobbed quietly into his hands, now enveloping your reddening cheeks. Primo smiles softly at you, caressing your cheeks to remove the tear tracks.  

“Pride is a funny thing, fiorellina. It is about self-worth, sí? Vanity, conceit, even arrogance. But that is how God sees it. Lucifer teaches us different, when you read between the lines. Pride extends to those around you, to those you love,” he emphasises, “You can harbour pride for others, sí?”  

You nod at him; yes, yes you were proud of Terzo. So proud of him; your Papa. 

“But you have your own pride too, Sorella. You must know your worth. I must ask; are you worthy of my brother? Are you worthy of a Papa?”  

“Y-yes... I think so. I want to be good enough for him, Papa,” you cried, hiccupping in his hands. Finally being honest with yourself, you absolutely wanted that. You wanted to be the one to tell him how proud you were of him, how wonderful he was, how funny or sweet, how kind... How much you loved him. 

“There you have it... You know what to do, fiorellina,” he sits back, letting go of your face as your eyes dart from side to side in panicked thought. You had to go. You needed to see him. You’d force your way into his office if you must; screw whatever meeting he was in or whatever clergy member you had to throw out of his way. You looked at the pumpkin patch around you and back at Primo, desperate to get away to find Terzo but your sense of duty halted you; you’d promised to help an old man with his pumpkin patch. You couldn’t just run away from him... 

Primo saw your internal monologue plain as day, and chuckled to himself.  

“Go, go! Andare! (Go!) I will fetch some Ghouls. They're more efficient than you anyway, cara,” he joked, grinning at you with a wink. 

“Th-thank you, Papa...” you stood quickly, dusting the soil from your cloak and stepping forward to kiss his forehead in thanks, “I’m sorry... I just, I have to...”  

“Yes, yes. I shall see you at the Ball!” he called after you as you ran back through the gardens, your boots slipping slightly on the cobblestone paths under the dew that had settled on them. It didn’t deter you; nothing could. You just continued to run until you reached the Ministry again, out of breath by the time you were inside it’s warm halls.  

Where would he be? Today of all days, where would you find him? 

You’d tried his office first; no sign of him. Even Christine was nowhere to be found, her desk tidy and untouched. Fine, you would try the Great Hall. Perhaps they were setting up for the ball?  

As you ran into the hall, several heads turned towards the sound and caught you frantically scanning the crowds of siblings and Ghouls alike. You spotted Swiss and Dew, precariously balancing on a ladder and hanging fresh black candles on the large chandeliers. Swiss reached up to hang another candle, seeing you stood at the edge of the dancefloor and waved, wobbling on the ladder. Dew banged on one of the wooden rungs for Swiss to focus, until he too saw you and gave you a quick wave.  

Chrstine had been in the hall setting up a blackjack table, and had seen you run in too. Having been the first time she’d seen you since Sunday, she hurried over with a guilty expression. You didn’t notice until she was right beside you, tapping your shoulder to gain your attention from the rest of the room.  

“Sister ______?” she asked, forcing you out of your trance. “I just... I wanted to apologise for the other day.” You almost rolled your eyes; you didn’t have time for this!  

“It’s... it’s fine, really,” you said, looking around her desperately at the people around the room. Where was he?  

“No, _______, really... It’s not fine, I had no idea that-” 

“Christine please, it’s okay,” you interrupted, “where’s Papa?”  

“Well I just don’t want you to be mad at me, we’re friends after all, and I just-”  

“Christine!” you yelled, drawing the eyes and ears of everybody in the room again, the hall falling silent. Chrstine seemed taken aback, shocked you would yell but she finally quietened.  

“I’m... I’m not mad at you...” you continued, voice low to evade the attention of those now paying it very closely to you. “We are fine. I’m not angry. Just... tell me where Papa is.” Christine was baffled, but the crazed look in your eyes was enough to force an answer out of her; albeit, not a very helpful one. 

“I-I don’t know... I saw him walk out earlier but he didn’t come back. Did you try the office?” she asked, suddenly concerned.  

“Yeah, first place I looked,” you took a step back, wiping your hands over your face in exasperation, trying to think.  

“Oh... Maybe his quarters? He gets nervous before these kinds of events, maybe he’s getting ready?” she shrugged. You nodded along, turning as if to head in that direction. “Wait, sister!” she called.  

You turned slowly, trying your best to hide the annoyance on your face. Just let me go, you thought to yourself.  

“Is something wrong?” she asked. You sighed, realising you must have looked like a crazy person, bursting into the hall all dramatic and demanding she tell you where Papa was. You were frantic, and you must have worried her. 

“No. Nothing is wrong, I just... I need to talk to him,” you say plainly. “It’s important, but everything is okay.” 

“Okay...” she sounded suspicious, but didn’t press the matter, letting you turn and finally walk – calmly, so as not to draw more attention – back out into the hall. You then skipped into a run once out of earshot, finding your way to Terzo’s quarters. Thankfully, the halls were relatively empty, and you faced no more distractions.  

When you reached his quarters, you didn’t even knock. Pleasantries had gone out the window, and with the door unlocked you pushed your way into the door, opening it in haste and stepping inside, letting it slam behind you.  

You thought that with the door unlocked, it must have meant he was in here and yet... silence. Stillness. There was nobody, the living room vacant, kitchen empty. You sighed, turning to leave and readying to run through the halls again to find him when- 

“Who the fuck thinks it’s perfectly fine to just enter my fucking quarters unannoun-” Terzo bellowed as he stormed out of his bedroom door in the far corner of the apartment, his brain short circuiting when he stepped through the doorway and his eyes fell on you.  

His chest tightened, the breath knocked out of him. You were the last person he expected to see rush into his quarters; he thought he was picking a fight with Copia, maybe even one of the Ghouls or Christine but when he saw you stood in his living room, out of breath and flushed pink in the face with an expression that read as distress on your features, he blanked.  

Silence fell over you both. Neither knew what to say, too much rattling around inside your heads to fathom any words. All you could do was stare at each other until one of you would finally say something... 

“Are... are you okay?” he asked, finally shaking the fog from his brain and taking in how you looked; breathless, clearly panicked, wrapped in your outdoor cloak? He could see mud stains on your boots and the long skirt of your habit, a pink tinge to your cheeks suggesting you’d been running, and smudges of black around your eyes, as if you’d been crying. Terzo could only imagine that the ritual had failed yesterday. That you were here to scream at him for abandoning you, or chew him out for suddenly dropping you when you’d needed his help. 

“Do I fucking look okay?” you asked, weakly and with unintentional malice but it made him wince nonetheless. 

“Well, no, I...” he stuttered, avoiding your eyes that burned into him. 

“You see the state of me and you ask me if I’m okay?” You took a deep breath, shakily. “I had to perform greed yesterday. Without you. You weren’t there,” you cried, fighting back an angry sob. He wouldn’t look at you, too ashamed of the pain in your voice and terrified to see the tears on your cheeks that he knew he had caused. It was his fault you were going to fail this ritual, but he couldn’t... he couldn’t finish it with you. 

“Why would you want me there?” he asked, picking at his gloves and entirely unfocussed on you. It made your chest burn. 

“Because, I-” you paused. You didn’t want him to know yet, you were getting at something, trying to make a point. “You started this with me. We started this together!” you yelled, “I wanted someone close to me, and I get your Ghouls instead?” 

“Oh, per favore,” he scoffed, finally looking up at you. He was reacting with anger, his defence mechanism. He was doing it again; pushing you away, holding you at arms length and making you hate him before you would inevitably find a real reason to... “You’re close with Swiss. And you seemed to have no issue with that on Thursday when Phantom dove headfirst into-” 

“Could you just not be bothered anymore? Hm?” You needed him to listen. You needed to see how he reacted. You needed him to confirm what Primo had been saying. “You just thought ‘oh, I’ve helped enough. She can figure it out from here, no biggie’. You abandoned your ‘flock’?!” you yelled, accusing him of not doing the very thing he’d said to you when he’d kicked this whole thing off.  

Terzo’s eyes widened, his lips contorting into a grimace and his hands balling into fists at his sides. “So now you’re on my case too, eh? Now I’m not good enough for you either? Meraviglioso, (wonderful,) once again, Terzo, you miss the mark. You FAIL. AGAIN,” he screamed in sarcasm, the sound of his rage frightening you enough to take a step back from him, no matter the fact he was already a good two meters away from you in his living room while you stayed near his front door. His darkened eyes glared at you, challenging you. You stayed mute. 

“Go on, tell me more. Tell me how terrible a Papa I am, eh? Tell me how much you despise me, how little I do for this congregation, how disappointing I am. You are not the first, Sorella, and you will not be the last.” The sarcasm was a nasty shade of spite on him, but it did nothing to mask the hurt you saw so plainly now. You hadn’t anticipated such a strong reaction from him, all you had wanted was for him to tell you the truth about why he hadn’t shown up yesterday. 

“Papa, I just meant-”  

“What, _____? Because I’m tired of it. I am tired of trying to do the best I can and knowing that it still is never enough,” his eyes burned with angry tears, ones he swore long ago he’d never shed again. He kept them at bay with a shake of his head. “You know, it’s no wonder you’re losing your faith in Him, Sorella. Not when you have a Papa who disappoints you, so.”  

You’d heard enough of this; you couldn’t let him think that was truly what you thought of him. Not anymore, it was breaking you. You took a few steps forward, slowly as if any faster would spook him.  

“Why didn’t you come?” you asked him again, stern and strong. He watched you edge towards him, his chest heaving with deep breaths as he tried to collect himself. “Tell me, Papa. Why?” Your voice cracked, coming to a stop behind his couch where you rested your hands on the backrest for stability. Your legs felt like jelly, your head weightless and thrumming. 

“B-because, I...” He couldn’t. He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t let you in, he’d only wreck it. He couldn’t explain why he’d needed to take a step back without confessing his feelings for you. You didn’t deserve that. You deserved so much better than him. 

“I wanted you. I needed you,” you told him, gritting your teeth as you spat the words at him.  

“You don’t need me,” he was trying to push you away again, to put up that wall around him. But after your talk with Primo, you could see it so clearly.  

“Don’t you tell me what I do or do not need, Papa. Don’t you dare. Because for the longest time, I had no idea what I needed, and now that I finally have some idea, you’re keeping it from me. You’re denying me, when you promised you would help me find it,” you sobbed, “I am telling you I needed you. Hear me!”  

Terzo’s eyes burned angrily into you, unable to look away from you as he fought with himself internally. He wasn’t getting it. Or if he was, he was being too damn stubborn to accept it. You couldn’t stop yourself anymore; he just needed to know. 

“Do you know why I left when I walked in on you fucking my friend, Papa?” you asked. He dropped his gaze to the floor, chewing on his cheek. He couldn’t look at you out of shame. “Because it hurt. It hurt too fucking badly. Because I had deluded myself into thinking that perhaps I was special to you in some way. And you know why I fucked Copia?”  

He visibly winced at your bluntness, those painful images flicking through his mind again. You were special to him, he thought. And it had scared him so much he’d pushed you away and into the arms of another man to exact your jealous-fuelled revenge. He was starting to see it now... But he remained still and unmoving; in denial. 

“Because he was just there. And I wanted to get you back. I wanted you to hurt, just like I was hurting. Do you know why, Papa?” Your voice sounded shrill, getting louder and more desperate the longer you berated him. But he just stood there, staring at the points of his shoes. Nothing. Silence.  

“Because I love you!” you yelled.  

His head snapped up, his eyes wild. He looked furious, as if steam would come shooting from his ears at any second. Under his stare you felt suffocated, just like you had when you’d caught him with Christine. All of the air in the room had been sucked out like a vacuum, your chest tight and unmoving.  

He glared at you, scrutinizing you, waiting for the punch line; one that wouldn’t come.  

“Say that again,” he demanded, jaw clenched impossibly tightly. You took a deep breath, your whole body tingling in fear. But you stood your ground; you had to. 

“I love you,” you told him, firmly. He just kept... staring. 

“Again...” He was challenging you. His voice was so dark, a timbre you would usually associate with rage, but something felt different. You persisted. 

“I love you.”  

His white eye twitched, his chest heaving in the silence.  

“...Again.” His voice softened, but only slightly. Had you not been listening, watching so intently, you would have missed it. His stare held up. But you could tell you were getting through... slowly. 

“I love you,” you told him again, your own voice softening considerably as fresh, hot tears dripped from your eyes. You meant it, with every fibre of your being. You’d tell him a thousand times until he believed you. 

“Again-” his voice cracked, the weight of his resolve beginning to crumble. You took a step towards him. 

“Papa-” 

“Per favore...” he stopped you from protesting, he just... he needed to hear it again. He shut his eyes, taking another deep breath. “Say it again, per favore.”  

With his eyes now shut, his voice shaking with the deep breaths he continued to take, you closed the distance between you both, still terrified you would scare him away.  

You lifted your hands, planting your palms gently on his cheeks. He raised his own, circling them around your wrists to hold you there as if you were about to disappear, that you’d turn and run from him when you realised what you were saying, what you were doing. But you were going nowhere.  

“I love you,” you told him again.  

Despite his eyes being shut, tears still escaped from the corners and dripped down his cheeks to your hands. But you just held him, you let them fall, let him feel... 

“Terzo...” you whispered to him, his eyes shooting open to stare into your own when he heard you call him by his name – his real name – for the first time. How beautiful it sounded from your lips. “I love you.” 

One last time, unprompted, was enough.  

In one quick motion, he pulled you forward and connected his lips with yours in desperation. His hands tightened around your wrists, before one dropped to the small of your back, needing you as close as he possibly could get you. Your grip on his head only tightened, holding him against you while you moulded your lips with his. He whimpered into the kiss – no, he sobbed – giving in to the surge of emotion. Your hands grew wetter as he cried, allowing it to pour out of him as if years of sadness and loneliness were being expelled and healed by just you.   

When he pulled his lips from yours, he couldn’t force himself to retreat, holding you close still as you caught your breath with your foreheads resting together. You dragged your thumbs over the tears on his cheeks, smearing his paints in the process but soothing him all the same. His breaths were shaky as he cried. He wanted to speak, to tell you everything on his mind but the words were falling over each other in the fight to be the first spoken. 

“Shhh,” you hushed him, “I’ve got you, Terzo. I’m here. I love you.” You hadn’t intended for that to make him cry harder, but it did; the kind of silent, repressed sobbing that a child does when they don’t want to be noticed.  

You lifted your forehead from his and waited patiently for him to look at you. There was still so much to say, but you focussed on calming him first.  

“Listen to me, okay?” you asked. He gave you a small nod, his reddened and waterlogged eyes searching yours. “You need to know, you are good enough.”  

He rolled his eyes then, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“Hey! You stop that, you hear me?” you brought his chin back down to look at you, “You are a wonderful Papa. You are the perfect figurehead of this church. You care for your congregation. You make us feel safe, cared for. You make us feel heard and loved. You work so hard, Terzo, I’ve seen it. Fuck the Clergy, and fuck Sister Imperator. You are an incredible Papa, and I am so proud of you.” 

A fresh wave of tears fell from his eyes, but this time you cried with him. You meant every word, so sincerely.  

“You are good enough, Terzo. You are. And I swear, I’ll put all of my energy into making sure that I’m good enough for you, also,” you promised. 

“Amore mio, (my love,) you are more than enough for me,” he cried, pressing his lips to yours again, “Ti amo, Principessa. Ti amo tanto... (I love you, Princess. I love you so much...)” 

You pulled him back into a bruising kiss, your tears now falling freely. Terzo’s confession had swelled in your chest, blooming into a beautiful warmth. You’d longed to hear that, for him to open himself up to you and be vulnerable with you. Truly, you had never felt so loved than you had in his arms right now. 

With your feelings out in the open, the two of you sank into your kiss this time. There was no rush, no desperation. You allowed each other to melt into it, your lips danced together, creating room for you to taste each other again. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers curling into the back of his hair, whilst his snaked around your waist and held you against him.  

With each passing second your kiss deepened, neither of you willing to let the other go for more than a millisecond to catch your breath. Terzo had missed your lips so much; just a day without you would have been torture, but four? Four days? He was surprised he’d survived at all. 

His tongue grazed your bottom lip, and you welcomed him willingly. Your fingers scratched at his scalp when you tried to pull yourself tighter against him, wishing to feel every part of him engulfing you. Naturally, a heat bloomed in your chest and swam through your veins to light your entire body on fire. Terzo could feel it too, pulsing through his veins over and over to the beat of his heart that rocketed with each tiny little whimper he heard you make. 

He took a step back, taking you with him towards the bedroom where he’d appeared from earlier, parting your lips and taking your hands in his to lead you as he walked backwards. He didn’t want to take his eyes off you for a second, scared this was a dream and that looking away would make you disappear from his grasp. You stayed close to him, chasing the high of his kiss while the feeling of his lips still tingled against your own. 

“Terzo, I’m sorry I made you feel like-” you began to talk again, like word vomit, wanting to settle any loose ends in your mind about the way you had treated each other recently, but Terzo had other ideas.  

“Shhh, principessa, we can talk later,” he said, still taking slow steps backwards as he held you, “Senza pensare, dai, facciamo l'amore. (No thinking, come, make love with me.)” 

And how could you deny him, when you wanted nothing more than him... 

He stopped just short of the end of his bed, bowing his head to press his lips to yours again. Quickly you were swept up in him, gripping onto his shirt as his hands came to undo the clasp of your heavy winter cape. It fell to the floor around your feet, and his hands came to wrap around your waist again, enjoying the freedom less fabric brought him. Your fingers nimbly undid the buttons to his shirt, lifting it from where he’d tucked it into his slacks and pushing it from his shoulders. His skin felt warm to your fingertips, the hair gathered on his chest as soft as you remembered it. 

You took a moment to look up at him, noting the smudged and messy paints his tears and your palms had ruined. It felt like one final barrier between you and him, a mask hiding the man beneath. And you wanted to get to know all of him... 

Gently, you pushed the centre of his chest allowing him to step back himself and take a seat on the edge of the bed. He expected you to join him between his knees, to bend at the waist and kiss him again but instead you took a step back, letting his hand drop from yours. His eyes widened in panic, but as he tried to protest, you hushed him.  

“I’ll be right back, my love. I promise,” you said earnestly, turning to head through the adjoining door to his bathroom. Flicking on the switch, you looked around to find a washcloth and some gentle soaps for his face, catching your reflection in the mirror. You, too, looked a mess; the black of your mascara had run and pooled under your eyes. You looked too sad; something you didn’t want attached to this memory. And so, before you headed back out to Terzo, you wiped the smudges away, baring your face for him.  

Back in his bedroom, Terzo sat nervously playing with his gloved hands until he heard your footsteps approaching him, washcloth in hand. His brows creased in confusion, but you smiled back softly.  

“Sit back, Papa,” you instructed, voice gentle and encouraging him to shuffle back. He did as you’d asked, and you hiked your habit up past your knees, now able to plant them either side of his thighs and sitting in his lap. “Relax,” you told him, bringing the dampened and sudsy washcloth to his face and wiping away the grease paint. He wrapped his arms around you, watching with gentle eyes filled with adoration as you washed away the evidence of his breakdown. 

Under the paints, his cheeks were flushed pink. As you cleaned, you revealed more parts of him that you were able to adore; the creases in his forehead that showed how hard he worked, the lines at the corner of his eyes that showed how much he smiled. He had a mole under his left eye, a few freckles dotted here and there. It made him all the more beautiful to you with each new detail.  

“There,” you smiled, wiping the last of the paints away. “Nowhere to hide now.” 

“I don’t ever want to hide from you again, amore mio...” His tenderness felt different, something you had only seen glimpses of throughout the few weeks you had been getting to know him, but you adored it; you adored every side of this man. He raised his hand to remove the veil concealing your hair, tucking it behind your ear as he leaned in to kiss you once again.  

You felt completely carefree in his arms, allowing him to unbutton your habit slowly while you trailed your kisses across his cheeks, his nose, forehead and back to his lips where he smiled one of the most genuine smiles you’d seen on him. It was contagious, spreading to your own lips. You chuckled quietly together as you removed your habit, shrugging it off to the floor behind you. He removed his gloves and his hands took their place on your bare waist again, and your lips took their place against his. 

With you hovering above him in just your underwear, he couldn’t help but pull you flush against him and deepen the kiss. He wanted you so badly, in a way he’d never had anybody before you – a way he’d never allowed himself to until you. Need swelled within you, your hips rolling against his lap, hands on his chest. You whimpered into his kiss with another roll of your hips, core brushing against his hardening bulge beneath you. His lips passed down your jawline, ghosting over the skin until he could mouth at your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses. Your head rolled back, exposing more to him as you sighed in content.  

“You...” he paused, leaving another kiss to your neck, “are my pride and joy, amore mio,” he confessed, holding you tighter when another roll of your hips had him shivering in pleasure. He focussed his kisses further down, mouthing at your collarbone, your sternum, down to the swell of your breasts over the cups of your bra.  

Your head swam with emotion, unsure of how to really punctuate how much this meant to you, how much you adored him. You opted to show him, to continue chasing the intimacy.  

Terzo reached behind you, easily unclasping your bra and dragging it down your arms until he could lave his kisses over your breasts freely, paying particular attention to your nipples. Every single motion he made was done with care and attention no man had ever given you. You couldn’t help the breathless moans you let slip, nor the tight way your fingers curled in his hair and held him tightly.  

Pressure was building in your core, the kind that needed more attention than you had been giving it. Whilst you wanted to enjoy every second with him, you needed more from him; that connection you desired so fiercely. You pushed lightly on his shoulders until he was looking up at you in wonder. 

“Lay back, my love. Against the pillows,” you instructed softly. He nodded, shuffling back. You followed, stopping short of his hips in order to reach down and unbutton his slacks. He helped you to shimmy out of them along with his underwear, kicking his shoes off until they hit the floor with the rest of the discarded clothes. You hovered over him then, giving him a chance to drag your panties from your hips and let you shuffle from them too, leaving you both completely bare for the other to see; body and soul. 

“Amore, you truly are a wonder,” he whispered, tracing his fingertips down your arms when you sat across his lap once again. You weren’t sure how to reply to him, opting for a smile and another deep, passionate kiss as his arms enveloped you as you lay over his chest. 

Now nude, grinding down into Terzo’s lap had your core glazing over his length and hushed moans rising in your chests while muffled by your kiss. He could feel how ready you were for him, how much you needed him and he knew he needed you too. Yet, it was you who made the move to connect the two of you, reaching between you and lining him up to your entrance. Terzo sat up with you then, holding you to him to be closer to you and pepper kisses to your shoulders, back up your neck until he found your lips. 

You took him slowly, savouring the stretch and doing everything you could not to rush; with no preparation, you’d need a little longer but the arousal that had gathered made sure there was no pain. And while you sank down, Terzo’s lips made for the perfect distraction, moulding with yours so elegantly as he groaned beneath you. 

Now, finally sheathed inside your heat, he felt complete again. He felt connected to you, like each time he’d been here before. In his mind, you were made for him. You were all he wanted, all that mattered.  

The first roll of your hips was slow, careful, but it felt dreamy. You’d missed him so completely that finally having him and being so exposed emotionally as well as physically was overwhelming, and you could feel the tear that dripped to your cheek before you knew it was coming. As Terzo pulled his lips from yours, wanting to see you again, he noticed immediately. 

“Amore mio, don’t cry... I’m here,” he assured, running his fingers through your hair as you nodded, biting back more. He kissed your cheek where the tear sat, ignoring the saltiness and instead tightening his arms around you until your chests were pressed together.  

Together, you lost yourself in the moment, your pace slow enough for both of you to just feel; no rush, no real end goal in sight just yet. Just a moment to enjoy your connection, now bloomed and blossomed into something more beautiful that when you had first been together. 

But it couldn’t stay that way forever; not when the heat in your abdomen was growing slowly but surely, and when Terzo was beginning to lose his mind at how good you felt wrapped around him.  

In one swift motion and holding you together so he didn’t have to be without you shrouded around his cock, he rolled you onto your back against the pillows and settled himself between your legs. One arm came to wrap around the back of your thigh, pressing it up against your torso for a better angle, and he took control of the way he derived pleasure from you.  

His hips rolled into yours over and over, his pace a little faster than before, losing his resolve. He was becoming desperate to have you come apart for him again, to chase your high first and foremost before his own. Sathanas, he loved you so completely. He felt like a fool, a silly old man who’d let his own idiocy come between what could have been such a perfect thing.  

“Mi dispiace, amore mio... Mi dispiace così tanto, (I’m so sorry, my love... I’m so sorry,” he sobbed, gritting his teeth in an attempt to stop the tears he could feel coming.  

“Shhh, no... Terzo, it’s okay,” you assured him, taking his bare cheeks in your hands and making him look you in the eye. “I’m here now, it’s okay.” You pulled him to you, kissing him and melting the worries away in a heartbeat as he kept up his pace.  

“Tell me again, per favore...” he cried, “tell me you love me.” How could you deny him? How could you possibly, right now, not allow him to know once again how much you needed him. 

“I love you, Terzo. I love you, I love you...” you repeated between kisses, your fingertips pressing into his hair and gripping as the pleasure inside you built and built thanks to the intimacy of this moment together.  

“Cazzo, per favore...” he didn’t know what he was begging for, his pleasure sure enough about to come to a head. He needed you there too, he refused to allow himself his own selfish pleasures without you. He'd been too selfish already... 

And so, with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around your thigh he used this thumb to draw circles over your clit, sending your head flying back into the pillows and your back arching underneath him, pushing your breasts into his chest as he thrusted more desperately into you. Any attempt at suppressing your moans failed, and they sounded like music to his ears; his darling principessa was singing for him once again. 

“Let go, amore. Per favore, let me feel you...” he asked so sweetly, breathless and strained. With a few further strokes to your clit and the relentless thrusting from your love above you, you saw stars. White spots twinkled in your vision and you squeezed your eyes shut, body tensing and convulsing underneath him when every single nerve ending in you exploded. Of all of the orgasms you’d had this week – and yes, there had been a lot – this hit you harder than any. Nothing could compare to the feeling of being loved. 

You tightened impossibly around his length, making movement hard for Terzo but he persevered; he couldn’t stop now, he needed to prolong your orgasm, he wanted to you to feel everything.  

“Ti amo, principessa. Sei tutto per me, non ti lascerò andare... (I love you, princess. You are everything to me, I won’t let you go...)” His words came out hurried, needing you to hear him, to confess again. Your grip in his hair tightened as you slammed your lips to his, writhing beneath him in the throws of your climax.  

Terzo groaned into you, his hips stuttering and his thumb forgetting it’s job on your clit when his own ending washed over him. Like your own, his orgasm hit him harder than any before now. The warmth of his release filled you, coating you and claiming you as his once again. He managed to continue some form of thrusting to prolong his pleasure and yours, until he found himself too exhausted to hold himself up any longer and released your thigh as he collapsed into your chest, his lips falling from yours to the nape of your neck where he lay. 

You wrapped him in your arms, pulling him tightly against you when you heard the first sniffle as he caught his breath, too tired to hold back the tears that prickled his eyes now he lay in your arms. Tears of your own fell too; a visceral reaction to hearing your love crying in overwhelm against you. For a while, you basked in the silence around each other and just allowed it all to come out. Given a few minutes to compose himself, Terzo shifted to lay beside you with your arms still wrapped around him.  

“I was a fool, ______,” he admitted. “I didn’t mean to abandon you...” You stayed quiet, allowing him to say his piece. You felt like he needed that.  

“I was so sure I would be a distraction. I didn’t want to come between you and Lucifer. You deserve to have that conversation with him, and yet I fear now I have spoiled that for you...” he sighed, visibly still beating himself up in his head.  

“Hey, look at me,” you told him, tilting his chin up to you where he was shocked to see you smiling. “If we haven’t done enough, I don’t care.” 

“But amore, your faith... I know how desperately you needed his direction. If I have spoiled this for you, I won’t forgive myself...” he argued, lip trembling.  

“Terzo, I have direction. I know what direction I'm heading, and it’s whatever direction you happen to be in,” you told him, gently pushing his hair from his forehead and trailing your fingertips over his cheek to wipe away his tears.  

The smile on his face was so genuine, so adoring; you’d never seen him like this before. Barefaced and beautiful; your Terzo.  

You leaned in to kiss him again, tenderly and laced with a promise to stay by his side as long as he wanted you with him. And he did; he absolutely wanted you by his side.  

“Sorella, you look wonderful,” Secondo smiled, holding his elbow out to you as you joined him outside of his quarters that evening. You had agreed to meet him before the ball, to enter the Great Hall with him and have the first dance at the All Hallow's Ball. You looped your arm through his with a grin, happy to be by his side and accompanying him as his friend and colleague. 

“What, this old thing? You know, something I had lying around...” you laughed, an obvious lie when the ballgown you had chosen was nothing short of spectacular. This was the one night a year that the entire Ministry would dress up in absolute opulence, people arranging their outfits months in advance for the most important night of the year. You had been no exception.  

Your gown was off the shoulder, a satin material of deep green that complimented your skintone. Corseted and hugging your waist, it flowed freely to the floor with a split that allowed your leg to peek through as you walked. You’d paired it with a string of black pearls; a family heirloom you'd kept safe for years.  

“Well, you look bellissima. Come, we mustn’t be late,” he said, beginning the walk through the halls to the Great Hall.  

Music flowed through the Ministry, gradually becoming louder the closer you got. You could hear the jubilant chatter of siblings and Ghouls alike, the clinking of glasses, the laughter of a happy congregation. This morning, you had been terrified to face that, sure you wouldn’t be able to match their elation. It had all seemed so daunting, and you would have preferred to hide away from it.  

And yet, now... you could only smile along with it.  

After your confession to Terzo earlier, you had stayed with him for a short period of time. Reluctantly, you had to allow each other the time and space to ready yourselves for the ball, his role as Papa having to come between that tender moment of simply being together, honestly. But upon leaving his quarters, the relief you felt and excitement to see him again tonight was fuelling you, a revived energy you hadn’t felt for what must be months.  

Perhaps you hadn’t completed the ritual; and that was okay. As you had told Terzo, it didn’t matter to you anymore. You had learned enough about yourself through the experience to know where you belonged now, and that was here, in this Ministry, beside your Papa. After tonight, you would work on whatever your relationship would become; and that was more exciting to you than hearing Lucifer’s voice.  

The Great Hall looked immaculately decorated... The bright orange drapery that Terzo had complained about earlier that day looked a much more demure burnt orange in the candlelight. The pumpkins from Primo’s patch littered the tables and halls, carved expertly by the most talented of the Siblings in the Ministry. Black candles burned in candelabras and chandeliers so elegantly illuminating the dance floor. Casino tables dotted through the edges of the room, giving everyone a chance to unwind and enjoy the deviant games.  

As you entered, a few Siblings turned to Secondo and bowed their head in respect, as one would expect. You smiled proudly at him; although a retired Papa, he deserved that respect whole heartedly, and you felt honoured to be the friend he chose to have accompanying him through his new role. He gave your arm a tight squeeze with his hand, and immediately took you to the dancefloor where Siblings were dancing in pairs and groups to the music played by Terzo’s Ghouls on the stage; a haunting yet jolly classic orchestral melody fit for a spooky evening.  

“I may be rusty, Sorella. Perdonami,” Secondo smiled, adjusting his arm to hold your left hand extended, the other resting respectfully on your waist.  

“I’m sure you have a few moves left in you, Papa,” you winked, smirking as your feet moved in time with his, remembering from lessons you’d had before previous Balls that you were to let him lead. Quite quickly, the two of you were comfortable enough dancing in time to the three-count waltz the Ghouls were playing.  

The night continued, with no sign of your dear Papa just yet; but as per every year, he had to make his grand entrance as part of the festivities an hour or so into the Ball. Instead, you and Secondo had danced and found yourself a drink of champagne; you’d found Dew and Swiss and watched them bicker and fight over who got to dance with you first; or at least, Swiss bickered, Dew just kept swatting him away. Both were equally annoyed when you chose the stuttering Phantom to dance with first instead, laughing it all off with him when you’d settled comfortably onto the dancefloor again. 

Eventually, Primo and Secondo headed over to you on the dancefloor to interrupt just as Sister Imperator and a rather decrepit looking Papa Nihil made their way up onto the stage where the Ghouls were playing out another piece of beautiful music, clinking her glass to get the attention of the room. Primo bowed a greeting as much as he could, a sweet and knowing smile on his face when he saw that you, too, were smiling. It must have gone well, he thought to himself. 

“Siblings of Sin, Clergy... thank you for coming together on this most important night of our calendar, All Hallow’s Eve!” Imperator announced. The room cheered and clapped together. “Tonight, we celebrate the sinners of past, present and future, and join them in their devotion to The Dark One. As is customary of the evening, I’d like to invite our dear Papa Emeritus the third to join the celebrations, and to anoint our evening in a prayer to Lucifer.” 

You could see the slight twitch in the corner of her mouth at the mention of Terzo, her disdain for him buried under the surface. It simply made you roll your eyes with a smug smile; the old crow didn’t matter. She’d never understand Terzo like you did, never accept him as he deserved but now, he at least had you to counteract her unwarranted annoyance of him.  

As she finished speaking, Terzo stepped up onto the stage and took to the pulpit as the room applauded. He was dressed in his most elegant robes; purple and black velvet with gold accents, mitre on his head proudly and his hands covered with black leather gloves, gold claws on each finger. He looked so incredibly regal, and your chest swelled with pride in his presence. His eyes searched the crowd, until they settled on you, smiling and clapping for him where you stood. He smiled back, feeling more at peace within himself than he ever had. 

“Good evening, Sisters, Brothers and Clergy alike. As the festivities of this evening have already begun, I wish not to take too much of your time. However, please join me in a prayer of devotion to Lucifer,” he began, clearing his throat and opening an unholy prayer book he had brought with him. 

“Our Dark Father, on this sacred All Hallow's Eve, we come before You with hearts filled with reverence and gratitude. We lift our voices in worship and devotion, acknowledging Your eternal grace and divine presence.  

“On this night of solemn reflection, we bow before You, celebrating our sins and devoting them to you. We seek Your approval and ask for Your guiding hand to steer us towards temptation and lead us onto the path of wickedness. Grant us the strength to devote ourselves to sin and the courage to walk steadfastly in Your ways.” 

As he spoke, you couldn’t help but stare at him in awe, beaming with joy. How could this man ever believe he wasn’t good enough? How could anyone? He exuded confidence, charm, devotion and commanded the room with a charisma that was unmatched.  

Primo beside you nudged your elbow, catching your attention with a wink and a smirk. You shared a silent chuckle, affirming to him that yes, everything had gone well, and everything was okay. Primo’s shoulder’s sagged, like a weight had been lifted from them and sighed happily, looking up at his little brother at the pulpit again and refocussing on the prayer with pride. 

“As we commemorate this hallowed eve, we remember the deviance and devotion You embody. May this celebration be a reminder of Your teachings and let our gatherings be filled with joy that stems from the knowledge of Your unyielding love for us, your sinners. Help us to embrace this occasion as a time to reaffirm our commitment to Your teachings and to stand resolutely against all that opposes Your divine will. Nema!” 

“Nema,” the room cheered, taking a sip of whatever drink they had to hand at the time.  

“Now, please! Eat, drink, be merry... We devote ourselves to Him together tonight!” Terzo announced, raising his hands and gesturing for the Ball to continue. The crowds dispersed back to the bars, the games, the dancefloor, whilst Terzo headed to the side of the stage to talk mindlessly with Sister Imperator and his father. The music began again, and the Ball resumed.  

“So, I trust my dear fratellino and yourself have uh... talked?” Primo asked, prying for details. You chuckled, nodding. 

“We did. It’s all okay, Papa.” 

“And what of the Ritual?” he asked; he couldn’t help but be curious. To see it performed and completed in his lifetime would be nothing short of an achievement on your part. 

“Ah... Unfinished. But don’t worry, Primo. I think it’s for the better. Even unfinished, I don’t feel so lost anymore...” you smiled, resting your hand on his arm to reassure him that you truly were okay.  

“I see. Well, you did the Dark One proud anyway, cara mio. You have come the closest of those I have seen attempt it. And I hope from here, fratello mio will show you nothing but happiness. Just... be patient with him, sí? He will take some time getting used to this feeling, I’m sure,” he said. You nodded.  

Primo invited you to dance then, although... he couldn’t move quite as nimbly as Secondo or the Ghouls could and so instead you stepped in place with him, swaying to the music as you talked and laughed as if you’d always been as close to the Emeritus family as this. It almost felt as if you had, unknowingly. There was a newfound connection from the conversations and antics of the week that had solidified you as a close friend to them all. It felt comfortable, as if you had truly found your place in the Ministry. You realised then, that your wavering faith may have been an issue of breaking down your own walls, as well at Terzo’s. 

“Papa, mi scusi... I cannot help but notice that you are a terrible dancer, and not at all worthy of the hand of this bellissima principessa,” an instantly recognisable voice interrupted your thoughts and your dance with Primo. “May I suggest I take over, as someone with a little more youth to offer?” 

Primo stopped dancing, a scowl on his face of annoyance when he turned to Papa Terzo. “Piccolo bastardo impudente... (Cheeky little bastard...)” he muttered. Terzo held an amused glare before sending a wink your way. It was embarrassing, the way just that made you blush. With a sigh, Primo let you go.  

“Comportati bene con lei, sí? (Do right by her, yes?)” Primo said, although the meaning of it was lost on you, your Italian not strong enough to translate, “È destinata a stare al tuo fianco. (She is meant to be by your side.)” 

“Sí, lo so... (Yes, I know...)” he smiled gratefully, aware that it was in fact Primo who had helped not only him see clearer amongst this mess, but you also.  

As Primo left, he pressed a kiss to the back of your hand, and held it out for Terzo to take. He pulled you flush to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and his around your waist.  

“Papa, people are gonna think...” you began to protest, looking around at the eyes that had settled suspiciously on you both; most notably, Imperator’s. 

“Ah, let them. Are they wrong?” he teased, starting to dance to the music. “They would know soon enough anyway, amore mio. I don’t intend to hide you away,” he smiled.  

Terzo was a skilled dancer – because of course he bloody was... what couldn’t this man do? - and ignored the many pairs of eyes that watched you both, the whisperings of the gossiping congregation around him. He couldn’t care less for them, not when he had the most beautiful woman, his amore in his arms.  

“You look truly beautiful tonight, amore. As you always do,” he told you, eyes scanning over the dress you wore and the pearls settled around your neck. He was mesmerised by you, and you couldn’t help the heat rising to your cheeks. 

“Thank you, Papa,” you said shyly, focussing on the patterns of his robes to try and hide your pink cheeks. But it was no use, he could see the effect of his compliment and he chuckled to himself, his hands tightening around your waist. 

His gaze stayed on you as you danced together, talked together, laughed together, long into the night. 

Unfortunately, as a Papa, he did have to do the rounds at some point during the Ball, leaving you to your own devices with a promise to rejoin you as soon as he could run away from his duties. However, that did leave you with some free time to enjoy the Ball around you, and so you made your way over to one of the many casino games that were dotted around the Great Hall. Blackjack was your game. One of the few casino games you actually enjoyed, and wasn’t solely down to luck. It was more about knowing when to bow out, and when to raise the stakes.  

You sat at the table, the Sibling dealing placing two card in front of you, and two in front of the person to your right; Cardinal Copia.  

“Oh, hey Cardinal! How are you?” you asked, a little shyly having acted the way you did when he last saw you. The Cardinal was staring at you with wide eyes, a few garbled words attempting to make their way from his mouth before he finally managed to speak.  

“F-fine, fine, Sorella. And... you?” he asked, tentatively. He was well aware he had come between something on Sunday, and he was terrified he’d bear the ramifications of his actions.  

“All fine. Relax,” you laughed, “I feel like you should know, the other day... I was-” 

“I know. I... eh, I saw the look on your face. And on his. But is everything...?” he lingered on the question, unsure how to answer it when there was another person in such close proximity, dealing cards. 

“Good. Better than, even. If anything, I think that whole... situation... only served as an epiphany. So, no hard feelings?” you asked, extending a hand for him to shake. He did so awkwardly, but no more awkwardly than he would any other human being who tried to shake this poor man’s hand.  

“Sí, excellent, okay... Uh, let’s play?” he asked, gesturing to the cards. You nodded.  

You flipped your cards, immediately revealing two jokers. You stared at them, confused. How did the jokers remain in the pack? They weren’t part of the game...  

“Excuse me, you dealt me two jo-” when you looked up, the dealer had vanished.  

In fact, the entire Great Hall had been plunged into a cloak of darkness. Everything was gone; just a vast expanse of black and dead silence as far at the eye could see. With no light, you had no idea how you were able to see so plainly the blackjack table you were sat at, let alone the cards as if an overhead light were beaming down on you.  

You heard a chuckled from Cardinal Copia beside you, except... when you looked, it wasn’t Cardinal Copia at all.  

“I couldn’t resist, my dear,” the voice laughed, “a little joke of mine, hm?” 

The voice was smooth, like the darkest of Belgian chocolate melting on your tongue beside a fireplace in Winter. The depth of the timbre rivalled the deepest parts of the ocean, and yet was as calm as a serene lake in the height of Summer. 

The man in the Cardinal’s spot was somewhat older, you would have guessed in his early 60’s by the silver of his long hair tied in a sleek pony tail at the nape of his neck and the beard perfectly groomed on his face. But his form was well kept; fit and healthy with a natural looking bulk to him behind the lapels of his black velvet suit. He was strikingly handsome, a silver fox, no doubt.  

He reached over to your cards and tucked them into the inside pocket of his suit, sending a wink your way as you gawped at him.  

“A-are... are you...?” you stuttered, unsure of what you were witnessing but in your mind there was only one explanation.  

“Lucifer, my child. A pleasure to meet you,” he bowed his head, taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to the back of it. Your heartbeat raced inside you, thrumming in your ears like a hummingbird. “Ghoul!" he called out.  

A Ghoul stepped up to the dealer’s position from the shadows, his mask glinting on the light that didn’t exist. He began to deal more cards, resuming the game of blackjack.  

“B-but... I never finished the ritual,” you stumbled, all formalities you thought you would have in this moment lost completely in your attempt to string together what on earth was happening. Lucifer just laughed at you, flipping his cards over and playing against the dealer. Your cards remained untouched.  

“Is that so? Well, I haven’t been wrong, yet...” he teased.  

“Then how-?” 

“My dear, the only sin you think you didn’t perform was ‘pride’, but I’m here to tell you that you did, with quite some flair... All those tears and confessions of love. It was quite touching, I must say.” 

You cast your mind back to your afternoon with Terzo, when you’d confessed your love for each other and had the most intimate, emotional sex of your life. And you’d told him you were proud of him... 

“Yes, that. But Terzo had told you at the beginning that if you were to bestow the sin upon someone else whilst still being involved in the act of carnal lust itself, then that also merits a performance of sin, did he not?” You nodded dumbly, following along, “yes, well, you are Terzo’s ‘pride and joy’, I recall him saying? You had him thinking, for a moment, that he was proud to be your papa, and proud to be yours, my child. That’s enough for me!” he explained, “Ah-ha! Twenty one, Ghoul. Pay up.” 

The Ghoul handed Lucifer some chips, taking his cards from him and starting a fresh round. Yours still remained untouched and face down on the table. Lucifer nodded towards them, encouraging you to play, and so you flipped the first as per the rules, and joined him in a round together.  

“So please, child; you performed this ritual to talk to me. Speak freely, I’ll offer what assistance I can,” he promised. He leaned on the edge of the table by his forearms, ready to listen to you as the game continued. 

“Well, I... I was lost, Your Eminence. I wasn’t sure where my path was headed. I didn’t think I had done enough for you. You speak to my siblings, but never me and I supposed I wanted to ask... what are they doing that I’m not?” 

Lucifer laughed at you; a hearty, genuine laugh.  

“Oh, my child... You want to know what they’re doing instead of you?” he asked, grinning wildly before leaning towards you and lowering his voice, “they’re lying.” Your eyes were wide and brows furrowed in confusion. “Yes, I promise you. They’re lying!” he sat back up straight, “hit me,” he spoke to the Ghoul, who dumped another card to the table. 

“But...” 

“It’s a bragging thing, they each want people to know how important they are, or how hard they worship. I can assure you, the only people in your Ministry I have ever spoke to directly is each Papa during his ascension. I don’t have the time to talk to every person who worships me. Those siblings are liars, it’s simply a contest of ‘daddy loves me more’,” he laughed.  

You felt silly, like you’d been fooled by those around you. Your head sagged in defeat; and you’d based the majority of your wavering faith on that.  

“But you did need direction, dear, I'll give you that. You felt stagnant, yes? Without purpose? Each and every day the same, day after day after day....” he gestured his hands in circles, his tone over-exaggerated to mock-droning in a boring monotonous routine. He pointed again at your cards, telling you to flip them and play. You did so, hitting 19 on your first two. 

“Ooh, will you risk it?” he asked, shimmying his shoulders and biting his lip in a playful challenge. “Or do you play it safe, as you have been for years?” 

His euphemism wasn’t lost on you, and so you decided to risk it. 

“Hit me...” The Ghoul dealt you another card, a two of hearts. How fitting.  

“Aha! See, a little risk pays off,” he winked as the Ghoul handed you some chips and took the discarded cards back, shuffling them again while Lucifer continued. “Do you want to know your purpose, my child? I mean... that’s why we are here, is it not?” 

“I-if it’s not too much trouble, Your Eminence,” you say sheepishly, feeling now like you had bothered him over a silly little belief that you weren’t as good as your lying siblings. It all felt very high school, now... 

“How sweet of you... No trouble at all, my dear. Ghoul, deal us in.” The Ghoul did as asked, placing four cards face down in front of you and Lucifer together. Lucifer waved his hand over the four of them, and moved to pick up the first.  

When he flipped it, the card showed none of the suits you knew in a standard deck of cards. Instead, it had a picture of the typical depictions of the Devil. A beast, half-man, half-goat sat atop a podium. A nude man and women stood either side, chained by the neck to the podium however the chains looked loose, as if they could simply remove them and run free but chose to stay chained to the block, imposing limitations on themselves.  

This was a tarot card; traditionally drawn. Your first card, was The Devil.  

“Oh look, it’s me!” Lucifer smiled, “Hello.” 

You stared between him and the card for a moment, astonished.  

“Usually, this card means you need to re-evaluate your connection to things or people. I believe you’re doing that already, yes? What is keeping you chained up? What is holding you back? I would say, my child, that was... you. Would you agree?” he explained, and yes, you did agree.  

“Yes...” 

“Good. That’s why I'm here; you wish to free yourself. But look, these people in the card... they look like they could easily free themselves, no?” You nodded along. “Exactly. So, this is you, on your path to freeing yourself. Wonderful. Next please, Ghoul.” 

The Ghoul flipped the second card for you both, revealing a picture of a man and woman, holding hands and completely nude, with an angel above them with dark robes and wings. The Lovers. 

“This one is fairly obvious, yes? Yourself and Terzo have confessed your love for one another. Excellent. Brava. I’m glad you could come to that conclusion yourselves; it’s certainly made this easier on me,” he laughed. “This typically symbolises a union, wanting to accomplish something together with another too. I think in both cases, we can say that this card works well for you both.” 

Lucifer gestured to the next card for the Ghoul to flip. The picture revealed a man dressed like a court jester stood at the edge of a cliff. He looked as if he was about to step off the edge and plummet, but he stared dreamily at the sky as if the heavens would save him. The Fool. 

Lucifer laughed at this one, slapping his hand on the table as he roared. You couldn’t help but smile at his laughter; a beautiful sound to hear from the Dark One. But ‘The Fool’ unnerved you. Who exactly was the fool? Were you, too, about to fall from the edge of a cliff, blissfully unaware of the danger beneath you? 

“Oh, forgive me, my child. This fool does make me laugh. Look at him; as if the heavens would save him...” he sighed, regaining composure. “No, no... Do you see the rose in his hand? A symbol of love. This man is a fool indeed, or at least he has been. I think yourself and your dear Terzo have been quite foolish, have you not?” 

You had; you could admit that. Both of you had acted in a ridiculous way and hurt each other in the process.  

“Fear not, that foolishness is over. No, this card is symbolising a new path. Both yourself and Terzo are ready to embark on a new journey now. You, my dear, are specifically to start on a new spiritual path. Your faith in me was wavering – and believe me, I take no offence. But now... what do you believe in, my dear? Tell me.” He encouraged you to speak, and only now did you realise how quiet you had been throughout all of this. 

“W-well... My Lord, I've read all about the demi-gods, would-be gods, papas of old, demons, devils... I searched for the longest time for information, and I tried so desperately to get closer to you, and I feel as though I have,” you explained.  

“Closer than most,” he winked, alluding to you being one of the few who’d ever had the chance to speak directly with him. 

“Yes, exactly. And I thank you for coming to me, Your Eminence. Truly, but... But if there's one thing, just one thing out of that entire pantheon... I believe in him." 

The Devil’s smile widened into a bright grin as he leaned on his arms.  

“Oh, I am a romantic...” he teased, “and yes, I see that in you. Your belief in him is stronger than anyone’s and whilst I do stand before you as you so wished I would, I know you would defy me entirely if only he asked you to.” He quirked his eyebrow, taunting you to disagree with him, but you couldn’t and you knew it. You looked down in shame.  

“Again, I take no offence. I couldn’t possibly, when the two of you are so destined for each other. Even I cannot stand in the way of your bond. But don’t you worry – he won’t ever ask you to defy me. Now, would you like to see the final card, child? You know you’re on a new path, but would you like to know what exactly that path entails?” he asked, reaching a hand to sit on your shoulder, his palm burning hot against your skin.  

Part of you wanted to know. Part of you didn’t. There was a fear, a simmering dread inside you that worried it was something you couldn’t fulfill, but then... if Lucifer himself is setting you on this path, then even he had every belief this was the correct one for you. And so, you nodded, ready for whatever the final card was.  

The Ghoul flipped it at Lucifer’s command. The card showed a woman, sat and holding a book in dark robes. Either side of her sat two pillars; one black, one white. A moon sat at her feet, and atop her head was a headdress of the three lunar phases. The High Priestess. 

You looked at the card, confused. You had expected something a bit more telling, but from the picture alone, you could gather nothing. Lucifer saw your confusion, and took your hand in his, holding it between both and forcing your attention to him.  

“I’ll explain, don’t panic,” he smiled comfortingly. “The High Priestess... she hints at something hidden preparing to come forward. She advises you to have awareness around yourself, and your spirituality. Of the things around you. You’re ready to accept the important next stage of your life.” 

You took a deep breath; all you could think of was that next stage with Terzo.  

“There are things that would give away to someone in the know just exactly the bond you have with him...” Lucifer began, as if reading your mind again, “Did you notice when you first performed lust that he took his gloves off, my dear?”  

You thought back, picturing when he’d made you bite the fingertip of it and drag it from his hand. You blushed at the memory, knowing the Dark One had seen everything. But now was not the time to get shy.  

“He did that each time with you, did he not?” You nodded. “He isn’t supposed to. I warned him during his ascension, the Papas wear gloves for a reason. His contact, his touch, was saved for the only person it was ever meant for now that he was a Papa. And without even thinking about it, he took them off for you.” 

The confusion in your mind swam; it had seemed so insignificant but when you thought back to catching him with Christine, as painful as that memory was, he had still been wearing his gloves then... 

“Not to mention the removal of his paints, your second night together. A very similar meaning there; barefaced Papas are saved for those who truly see them. Do you comprehend what I’m saying, my child?” he asked, stroking his thumb over your cheek.  

Truthfully, you didn’t. You were trying to piece it all together, searching the texts you’d studied as a younger sibling and trying to find what any of that meant other than the fact that there was a connection of some sort; a bond. 

“The High Priestess is a figurehead of feminine power, my dear. The lunar cycles on her headdress represent the three stages of womanhood: maiden, mother, crone. She has appeared here, because she is showing you your feminine power. One that is hidden inside you, preparing to come forward.  

“You are his; destined to be. Child, you are his Prime Mover.” 

Your heart thudded in your chest. That term... you’d heard it before, many years ago. It was a destiny, a divine path for a woman meant to be at the side of a Papa. Not every Papa had one, and it was incredibly rare to find her at all. There hadn’t been another Prime Mover since the early 1800’s. The pull you felt towards Terzo, the almost instant connection and ferocity of your love after just a couple of weeks made sense now. 

Prime Mover. 

You were the feminine figurehead of the Satanic Church; Papa’s other half, his Queen, for lack of a better term. Your rightful place was at his side, leading in the name of Lilith herself. The power that was bestowed upon Terzo during his ascension was destined for you too.  

“I-I... can’t be. I’m not cut out for that... responsibility,” you protested, shaking your head and removing your hand from Lucifer’s as the shock overcame you.  

“I chose you for a reason, my dear. You are the one, because I know that you are cut out for this. Your devotion for the last sixteen years proves that to me, but I knew it the moment you were born. This is your birthright,” he explained, his expression more serious than you’d seen it before. “It’s coming, my dear, and you can’t stop it.”  

Lucifer stood, towering above you now on his feet and stepped closer towards you.  

“They’ll know as soon as they see you, my dear. The Emeritus line bears the mark of the Divine,” he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours gently in a kiss that felt otherworldly and yet, not in the slightest bit romantic. You closed your eyes, your head feeling light and airy as you melted into his kiss. And then, he stepped away, your eyes fluttering open. 

“...And now, so do you.” 

You looked at him in confusion, seeing him smirk at you and run his fingers down the left side of your face. He looked... proud? Admiring you for a moment too long.  

“You need to go back, my child. You need to show them. I’ve enjoyed our little talk, but for the time being... you must go.” 

You panicked, not ready to go back yet; what if you had questions? What if you needed His guidance again? You had no idea what to do from here. If anything, you were more confused now than when you entered this strange little void.  

“W-wait, please... What if I have questions? I don’t know how to do this, Lucifer, please!” you begged, reaching for him. He held your hands and steadied you, his touch instantly soothing.  

“Don’t panic. I will see you again soon. We’ll talk again, at your ascension. For now, just show them.” 

“Show them what?” you cried, tears prickling at your eyes. Lucifer just smiled, stepping back from you and raising his hand. Before you knew it, his fingers snapped, and you were plunged into a black void.  

Lucifer vanished, and the stool you sat on as well as his and the blackjack table disappeared and you fell, endless falling through nothing. Your limbs flailed and ballgown billowed as you fell into nothing, the weightless feeling terrifying you the longer you dropped.  

Until finally, you hit the floor and your eyes shot open.  

With a start, you awoke, desperately throwing your hands out to your sides for purchase. You gripped onto silk, looking beneath where you lay to see familiar purple and black bedding, and feeling a soft mattress under you.  

“A-amore?” you heard his concerned voice from the corner of his room. He sat beneath the only light he had on; a small lamp stood next to him. You remained shrouded in mostly darkness, confusion sweeping over you until you settled on him. 

“Terzo... what...?” you began, unable to finish the sentence as you looked around the room; a small part of you wished you’d seen Him. You weren’t done with your questions yet... 

“You collapsed at the blackjack table, amore. But... no one could find anything the matter in the infirmary. You’ve been out for hours...” he stood, worried and careful, sitting at the edge of the bed and reaching for your hand that still gripped his sheets as if you would start falling again at any moment. You looked up at him then, finally seeing the worry lines etched into his paint. But when Terzo saw you, his expression changed from one of deep concern, to one of immense shock.  

His jaw dropped, eyes widened and brow creasing. The hand on top of yours smacked over his mouth and he stood quickly, backing up until his back hit the full-length mirror in the far corner of the room. 

“T-Terzo...? What’s happening?” you asked, fear spearing you through the chest.  

“Y-you... your...” he couldn’t speak, his voice trembling as if in fear. He pointed instead, his gloved hand raising to your face.  

The fear propelled you, forcing you up and off of Terzo’s bed to stomp towards him, fumbling with the skirt of your ballgown only to try to comfort him, calm him down but he moved out of your way just a step to the side and you were left staring at your own reflection.  

Even in the dim light, you saw it. You couldn’t miss it. 

Your left eye had turned almost completely white, save for the pupil, blown out in the centre. Lucifer had bestowed the Divine mark on you.  

‘Show them’ he had said. He meant... show them your mark. 

“T-Terzo... He did this. He came to me,” you panicked, reaching for him. He let you grab his arms, holding you too when he snapped himself from his initial shock. “He showed me m-my path... He told me that I’m-” 

“Prime Mover...” Terzo finished your sentence. He knew what that mark meant for you. “You’re my... Prime Mover?” He asked, the words sounding more like a desperate gasp. You just nodded at him, your hands squeezing at his arms and tears spilling over your cheeks. You found yourself smiling – grinning, even.  

“I’m yours; I was always supposed to be,” you laughed in shock, biting your lip to try and contain the wild grin as more tears fell.  

Terzo couldn’t take his eyes off you, staring at the mark that held so much meaning that it was overwhelming. He brought his hands to your cheeks, holding you as you gripped his wrists.  

“Supposed to be mine,” he breathed, his lips curling up at the edges as elation started to settle in, his panic and shock wearing off. “You’re... you’re mine, principessa?” You nodded frantically. 

And Terzo couldn’t help but laugh. Out of relief, out of disbelief... he couldn’t tell but he knew he was overjoyed. Words failed him, and instead, he pulled you to smash his lips against yours in a bruising kiss. He had hoped after today you would remain together, of course, but this? He could never have predicted this, never seen this coming.  

But now, everything made sense. 

“Tell me, amore. Tell me everything He said to you, what did He show you?” He asked, pulling you back to the edge of his bed to sit and explain your vision. You told him about the blackjack, about how you’d completed the ritual, about the tarot cards. You told him each one’s significance in your past, present and future, and he gleamed at you the whole time, in awe. 

“He told me to ‘show them’... I think He meant this?” You said, pointing at your eye. “I didn’t know... Not until I just saw. This is the Divine mark, isn’t it?” Terzo nodded, his thumb stroking over your cheekbone underneath it. 

“And it looks so beautiful on you, amore,” he said dreamily, “my Prime Mover...” The happiness in his expression as he took in this news was evident, and it only made your heart swell. 

“He said something about an ascension?” you mentioned, confused and hoping Terzo may have an answer for you.  

“Sí, you will have one... We will need to prepare for it, of course, but that makes you... my equal. At least, in the Ministry hierarchy. I’m to believe that you are, in fact, worlds above me... But yes. You will ascend to Prime Mover with me, principessa.”  

You couldn’t describe how you felt in that moment; an intoxicating cocktail of happiness, love, pride, and relief. Not only had you completed your ritual, but you had found your purpose. You had found your place in the ministry, in your life, in the world... and it was by Terzo’s side.  

“We’ll share everything, cara mio. My role extends to you, and I can think of no one better to don my colours, to help lead this congregation, to help spread the word of our teachings and grow this church. Lucifer knew what he was doing when he picked you, that’s for certain,” he beamed, leaning into you to kiss you once again. He was so in awe of you, so in love with you, it was almost sickening.  

“Lucky for me, purple is my colour,” you smirked as you sat back, hinting at Terzo’s papal colours and adoring the idea of sharing that with him, of matching with him. 

“Oh, I remember. Vividly,” he smirked, his mind wandering back to that first time you had slept together. “Come, amore. People were worried for you, we thought you were sick. And Lucifer has asked you to show them your beautiful new mark, no?” he stood, pulling you to your feet with him and wrapping his arms around your waist. “I can’t wait to show Sister Imperator this...” 

“Perhaps we show her first, hm?” you smiled wickedly, pulling him closer to you by the stole of his robes. 

“Oh, principessa... It might just send her into a coma. Or worse...” he teased, his lips hovering close to yours.  

“Here’s hoping...” you laughed evilly. Terzo threw his head back in a deep laugh, one that vibrated his whole chest. 

“Oh, you are so my Prime Mover...” Terzo snickered, leaning in to engulf you in another breathtaking kiss; a final private moment together before he proudly paraded you back through the halls to anyone and everyone who had ever doubted him. 

His pride and joy. 

A/N: Thank you so much for reading all the way to the end of this fic. I'm so grateful, and truly I can't believe the amount of love on this. I'm in total awe, and I hope you'll join me for the next one...

Happy Halloween, Ghesties! 🎃

Prev: Day 6 - Greed

A huge thank you to @her-satanic-wiles for beta reading, and @adinferix for fine tuning the Italian translations! 🖤

Tag list:

@call-me-little-sunshine84 @thew0man @zombiesnips-blog @ghuleh-recs @popiaswife @anamelessfool @enchantedbunny @haelithra @aslutforgreyhair @togetherasone @lilylovesdew @copias-sewer-rat @copiaspet622 @deetz-ghuleh @loudwombatmugkid @nimbusghoul @portaltothevoid @angellayercake @sodoswitchimage @siouxbauhaus @lydz1977-blog @bitchywitchygardener @sacrificialsake @the-did-i-ask @ghostfangirlsweden @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe @copiasprincipessa @gothicwonderlust @ladymer @ghulehunknown @onlyhereforghost @solluna00 @nijiru

[icycoldninja]

Hello! I have a request for Dante, Vergil & Nero - their s/o has a Shadow (the dmc1 version or kind of like how V has one) as a pet. How would the guys think about if that makes sense?

Thanks in advance if you write for it :3

You're very welcome, hope you enjoy! 💜💜

Sparda boys x Reader with a Shadow headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-He would be pretty indifferent, seeing as he comes across beasts like these nearly all the time.

-However, the fact that it's tamed is a testament to your strength--not everyone can get these wild creatures to obey them.

-Treats your Shadow like a regular housecat, scratching it behind the ears, petting it, and so on.

-Just like any other cat owner, Dante gets scratched a great deal and considering the sharpness of a Shadow's claws, often has to use a few green orbs to recover.

-He still loves your Shadow; he's just a bit more wary when playing with it.

-100% allows it to come along with him during missions, and occasionally buys it treats on the way home.

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil would be interested to hear how you managed to tame such a ferocious beast, let alone keep it as a pet.

-Of course, he'd never admit any of that aloud because of his damning pride and massive inferiority complex, so he decides the best way to address the situation is to stab himself in the chest so V can pop out and do all the talking for him.

-You and V end up bonding more thanks to your pets' shared species; V will give you tips on how to get your giant demon cat off your lap while you're working and you'll give V advice on how to keep your Shadows' coats shiny.

-Both your Shadows also get along quite well, and since they're identical in shape, size, color and sound, passing pedestrians think they're seeing double, or that there's a glitch in the matrix.

-Vergil himself hates your pet demon, but that's probably only because it loves him. Your Shadow is always leaping into his lap, purring, and nuzzling him.

-The old grump will warm up to your monstrous fur-baby eventually, just give him time.

□ Nero □

-Is genuinely afraid of your Shadow but refuses to admit or show it.

-His fear does not stem from the fact that your pet is some spooky, ethereal demon panther, but because it scratches him all the time, both unintentionally and intentionally. While the scratches themselves are light and usually aren't all that painful, they're not pleasant and therefore should be avoided.

-If Nero is ever required to touch your Shadow for any reason, he will only do so with his prosthetic arm to minimize damage.

-Still, your pet is a powerful battle ally, and Nero is willing to set aside his fears in order to cooperate with this demon cat.

-Eventually, he finds himself growing less afraid of your pet, his fears finally melting away in favor of fondness.

-Soon, Nero and your Shadow become the best of friends; your pet is now more attached to Nero than it is to you.

[frvnkcastles]

I feel shithouse for asking since I'm not a girlie, bur I was! Trans guy here but honestly a trauma ex girlie!

Can I request something with a reader (doesn't matter the pronouns if you feel more comfy writing she/her that's chill!) Where the reader is asked to come to Christmas with their family, and frank is a plus one bur you're worried as your family are alcoholics (starting drinking at like 10 til late) and the reader is trying to cut down but their family is really pushy and feels like they're gonna fall back into bad patterns and Frank pulls them away for an hour just talking and smoking a cigarette as the readers the only dart smoker in the family as they've all transitioned to vaping?

(Maybe just mother, brother, sister in law and reader +frank, and possibly the radio keeps turning on and off and the family calling out readers grandparents in the afterlife as the cause v much jokingly?)

YOU’RE THE ONLY PLACE THAT FEELS LIKE HOME ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: When you have to deal with your alcoholic family, Frank is there to support you.

Warnings: Alcoholism, implied past abuse, mention of deceased grandparents, reader smokes, language, gender neutral reader

Word count: 1.7k

Author’s note: Anon, don’t feel bad at all!! This is a safe space for everyone no matter what and you’re 100% welcome here. I do wish more of my fics were gender neutral but often my ideas come from my own experiences as a mentally ill/traumatized woman and when I get requests, they usually mention she/her pronouns. That said, while I don’t really know how to write from the perspective of a man, I have no problem writing a gender neutral reader if it’s specified. Also, I am very sorry you had to wait such a long time for this, I hope you like it!! Sending you lots of love <3

When your family invited you to spend the holidays with them, you instinctively knew you were in for an uncomfortable time. Since you had moved out, you had tried to keep your distance and unlearn the bad habits that you had developed at home — like drinking. That was your first and foremost concern, having to witness their drunken behavior and how the situation would most likely escalate sooner or later, as it always did. You had done a great job of cutting down but you feared that being back in their company would force you to undo all your progress.

The one good thing about the whole thing was that they didn’t protest you bringing Frank along. He made most shitty situations better just by being present, and you instantly felt heard and comforted when he agreed to come with you. Frankly, he was opposed to the mere thought of letting you go alone, knowing all about your complicated family history and therefore determined to support you through every encounter.

”Y’know you’re allowed to decline, yeah? Don’t wanna see you puttin’ yourself through shit just ’cause they’re askin’”, he reminded as you were getting ready to leave for your mother’s house. Pulling on his jacket, he eyed you, looking for any hint of hesitation on your face, but you were doing a good job at putting up a brave front. You wanted to keep the peace, and admittedly, a little bit of you missed your family and ached to spend time with them, even if you knew it probably wouldn’t end well.

”Thanks, Frankie. It’s okay, I want to go. Just… need you by my side”, you sighed, and nodding, Frank stepped over to you to press a kiss on your temple, brief but full of emotion.

”You got me, darlin’. I ain’t goin’ anywhere”, he assured before taking your hand and steering you out the door.

He encouraged you to take deep breaths during the drive over, noticing with ease how anxiety was starting to manifest in your bouncing leg and chewed bottom lip. You tried to take Frank’s advice and keep yourself calm, but as soon as you arrived at the house, you came to the conclusion the night was already becoming more intense than you had anticipated.

There was a haze of drunken stupor in the air and loud chatter filled every room, tipping almost over to downright shouting. Bottles and cans littered the tables and the realization that everyone was already drunk unsettled you, making you swallow hard as you reached for Frank’s hand. He squeezed tight, unwavering as he stood next to you.

”Finally! Took you long enough”, your brother noticed you standing by the door, and he rushed to you, shoving a bottle of beer into your hands. You shook your head and handed it back over to him, which earned a scoff from me. ”What, you too good for us now?” he mocked, but he didn’t linger to hear your response, just stomped back to the dining room where your mother was setting up dinner.

You glanced at Frank, and he directed an affirming nod at you, giving you the strength and will to walk to the dining table with him right behind you. You exchanged greetings with your mother who was clearly tipsy at the very least, and your attempts to make conversation went unheard and unnoticed. You supposed it was a good thing — they weren’t actively picking fights with you, at least.

Frank, ever the gentleman, helped bring in all the food and the plates, with the same goal as you: keeping the peace. He wasn’t interested in befriending your family because of all the trauma they had bestowed upon you, but for your sake, he remained cordial and polite. That said, he was ready to defend you at the smallest thing.

As everyone sat down for dinner, your mother poured you a glass of liquour and you instantly felt opposed to the idea. ”Oh, I don’t really drink anymore”, you tried, and in an instant, your mother and brother exchanged looks that were judgmental as well as surprised.

”One drink won’t kill you”, your mother insisted, continuing to pour until the glass was filled to the brim. You licked your lips nervously, but unwilling to start a full-blown argument by refusing, you reached for the glass.

Frank stopped you, however. ”They don’t gotta drink anythin’ they don’t wanna”, he spoke firmly, his tone stern enough to warn everyone not to start with him. You smiled softly at him and he squeezed your thigh in response, keeping you close to him in the hopes that his warmth would ground you in the otherwise anxiety-inducing environment.

Your mother opened her mouth to retort something, but she was cut off by the radio crackling, quickly redirecting her attention. ”Must be your grandparents again”, she commented with a laugh, one you didn’t return. You shuffled uncomfortably in your seat and Frank gave your arm a comforting caress, his eyes darting between you and your family. He hated seeing you in these situations that only distressed you, and he wished there was more he could have done to help.

But he tried by gaining control of the conversation. It was a gesture you appreciated greatly, especially because you knew he was most definitely not the kind of man who participated in small-talk. He was used to sitting back and observing, but right now, you didn’t have the capacity to keep chatting and he didn’t mind taking the reins on your behalf. He kept your mother busy so that she wouldn’t have the chance to push you to drink, but your brother still jumped at the opportunity.

”You’re really not gonna drink that? God, you really have changed. Can’t even have a drink with your family anymore”, he rolled his eyes, trying his very best to guilt you into having a sip, and it almost worked. You were moments away from cracking under the pressure, but once again, Frank came to your rescue.

”We’re, uh, we’re gon’ get some fresh air. Excuse us”, Frank informed curtly, his words respectful but his tone cold, just like the look in his eyes. He wasn’t going to let you sit there as the target of their complaints anymore, and so, he helped you up from the seat and guided you outside into the refreshing air.

You exhaled heavily as you dug out a cigarette with shaky hands, and Frank ran his hand across his face in frustration. He was seething, feeling so much anger towards your family for being so pushy with you, and he was desperate to just carry you in the car and take you home right now.

”We ain’t gotta stay, baby. The way they treat you… makes me real upset for you. Just say the word and I’ll take you home, got that?” he swore, his eyes piercing yours as you inhaled the cigarette. You pondered on his offer, and you couldn’t deny that it sounded tempting — it wasn’t a good time so far, and you doubted it was getting any better with all the alcohol they were consuming nonstop.

”Yeah, I don’t really want to stay for long. Let’s just get through dinner and then we’ll go?” you suggested, and sucking in a breath, Frank bowed his head in an agreeing nod.

”Whatever you wanna do. But I ain’t lettin’ you drink when you’ve done so well without any”, he decided with a point of his finger, and with an appreciative smile curling your lips, you reached for his forearm and squeezed.

”Thank you, Frankie. This would suck a lot more without you”, you noted, and with a quiet chuckle, Frank shrugged.

”Yeah, well, I’d need a damn good reason not to be here for you. I don’t want you to deal with all this all by yourself, y’know?” he explained, stepping closer to you and winding an arm over your shoulders. He pulled you closer, and while making sure you wouldn’t get ash on him, you leaned into him and enjoyed the feeling of his firm body against yours.

”I know it sucks. It’s just… they’re my family. I’ve realized it’s not healthy for me to spend a lot of time with them but sometimes I miss them”, you admitted quietly, a little embarrassed to speak the truth, but Frank wouldn’t judge you.

He pressed a kiss into your hair, in fact. ”I hear ya. It ain’t easy to cut off the people you’ve grown up with. I’m proud of you, anyway. You’re doin’ so great, hear me?” he emphasized, wanting you to know that he admired your strength. You were the most amazing person he knew and he would never let you forget that.

”You’re so sweet”, you muttered, shy under his praise and deep stare, and he reacted with a snort.

”That’s the first time anyone’s ever said that ’bout me, sweetheart”, he declared, and it made you laugh — even if you strongly felt like he should hear it all the time.

Sighing, you put out your cigarette. ”I guess we should head back inside”, you gave in, but with a tut, Frank pulled you back from the door.

”I mean, they ain’t exactly lookin’ for us yet. We’re in no hurry, yeah? We can take a moment, just you and me”, he proposed instead, and you didn’t take much convincing, especially with his dark eyes looking so soft and caring as they bore into yours. There was a small, hopeful smile on his lips, and that was enough to reel you in.

”I’d like that”, you agreed before leaning in to kiss his cheek. ”Thanks for everything, Frank. This really means a lot”, you added, and caressing your hair, he shook his head.

”Ya gotta stop thankin’ me, darlin’. I’m just doin’ what I can to help. And treatin’ you the way you deserve, aight?” he countered, serious about being good to you. And so far, he had been successful in every way.

It was going to be a long night, but you felt encouraged with Frank by your side, and you knew you had a way out if you just told him you wanted to go. It didn’t erase all your problems with your family, but it was safe to say you had found a new one in Frank.

[tonowaritrash]

Touch starved, inexperienced young!Tonowari being a moaning mess while a older experienced reader teaches him how to pleasure his mate🤤

Like hes expected to be looking for a mate but baby is a virgin and wants to know how to please a woman before he mates😩 so he seeks the help of one of his mentors

now i’m just filled with thoughts of reader corrupting young wari but that’s not what was asked for lmao

pairing: tonowari x reader

tags: inexperienced tonowari, older reader, younger tonowari, p in v sex,

minors dni

after a long day of successful fishing, the shade of your marui offered a welcome coolness from the heat outside. eywa had blessed the reef with a bounty that would feed the clan for two days at least and everyone was overjoyed.

you, however, were glad to be inside. it wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy fishing, in fact you loved it. you loved the anticipation, loved the thrill of feeling something big tug at your line and the satisfaction of your hard work paying off. you loved it so much that you were considered a master fisherman and you taught the older youth complicated techniques to catching more dangerous fish. fish that were used in healing or rituals that were difficult to come by.

they loved you, so much so that your students often sought you out outside of lessons to chat and ask for guidance about their lives. it wasn’t uncommon for them to even ask about matters of the heart, despite the fact that you weren’t mated. they called yours a “neutral perspective”.

not that you were unmated unwillingly. quite the opposite. suitors had clamoured at your home during your younger years but you turned them away. yes, you had others in your bed often but they understood this. fishing was your true love. and sharing that love with the up and coming youth was an opportunity you relished.

your favourite among them was the olo’eyktan’s son, tonowari. at barely 23 he had proven himself time and time again in your classes that he was a worthy fisherman, enough to replace you.

he was bright eyed and eager to absorb information. often after your lessons the two of you would talk about things he worried about. about his grievances, his worries, his struggles, things he felt as though he couldn’t tell his father. you listened and offered advice as best you could.

it was a shame that eywa had other plans for him. once he would become olo’eyktan he would have less time to go fishing. you felt it a huge loss for the clan, but it was out of your hands.

your musings were interrupted by the rustle of chimes at your entrance and you turned to see the very man you’d been thinking about. it wasn’t uncommon for him to visit you in your marui it normally it was arranged beforehand so you were more than a bit confused.

you immediately knew that something was off. he was a bit more distracted than usual, shifting his weight from foot to foot. his blue eyes avoid your own gaze and you could swear he took in a shaky breath.

was he…nervous?

“can i come in? i need to ask you about something.”

snapping out of your musings immediately you motioned for him to enter your marui. “of course, of course! come on in. i wasn’t expecting company today though.”

“sorry,” he apologised, entering. he was tall enough that he needed to duck his head at the entry point . you never quite got over how large he was even among metkayina men.

he took his place at your bed and immediately you fussed about the marui hoping that you could scrounge up something for him to eat. “good job fishing out there today, by the way,” you said, filling the strange silence. “if you get any better i might have to consider changing specialties.”

he chuckled. “you flatter me.”

“i mean it. i don’t think there’s anything left for me to teach you — aha!” your hands grabbed a bowl of nuts that your friend had foraged from the forest a few days prior.

you brought them to him and placed the bowl on a makeshift table. your kind words seemed to relax him a bit as he immediately grabbed one and ate it, the crunch resonating in the marui.

“that’s what i came to talk to you about,” tonowari said. you looked at him quizzically and he avoided your gaze. “i need to ask for your help with something. outside of fishing.”

you sat down at this, giving him your utmost attention.

“as you know i need to find a mate. as olo’eyktan there needs to be someone at my side.”

you nodded. “there are plenty of good women in village. i know some capable fishers i could introduce you to. oteri in particular is quite strong, and she has a kind heart. but if she isn’t to your liking, well,” you placed your hand on his shoulder in reassurance, “i’ll ask around. i have plenty of friends who are mentoring others.”

you felt him stiffen under your touch and moved to pull away but he stopped you. “that’s not…thank you but finding women is not the problem.”

you frowned at this. “i wasn’t aware that you’d already found someone. you’d like to woo her, then.” you thought for a moment. “there’s a cave up a cliff that has glowing flowers that i once—”

“i haven’t found anyone yet. i can’t even consider looking for someone if i cannot—” his jaw tightened and you watched his fist clench.

“tonowari…” you prodded gently.

he sighed and leaned forward. “i’ve been training to become olo’eyktan for as long as i can remember and i never really had time for myself. i don’t know how to please a woman. i’d like to learn so that when i do find someone that i don’t make a fool of myself when the time comes.”

oh…

oh.

“have you even kissed anyone?”

once again he avoided your gaze but the reddening of his ears gave away that he was inexperienced in everything.

you could hardly believe it. tonowari was handsome, kind and completely dedicated to the clan, all traits that any woman would kill for in a mate. that he had never even been kissed completely confused you.

“nobody knows,” he muttered. “it’s never come up, but i think everyone just assumes…” he trailed off and sighed. “i would be mortified if a girl found out and told everyone else.”

that still didn’t answer the one question that plagued you at that moment. “so why did you come to me?” you asked slowly.

“i want you to teach me. i can’t go to any of my friends because they like gossiping and, well, i trust you.”

you heart stopped at those words. you were fond of tonowari, yes, and the two of you were close. but your admiration was always that of a teacher.

yet, now, as he looked at you with his eyes —his big, blue, innocent eyes — you couldn’t help but think just how adorable he was.

younger men were not your type as they were usually cocky and obnoxious, but you’d grown close to tonowari the last three years. and if he’d come to you about this issue, if you were the only one he could truly trust with something so sensitive and personal…

“how could i refuse?”

he blinked at you, clearly not expecting that answer. “you…what?”

“it would be my honour to guide the future olo’eyktan in this area.”

again he blinked, but then he stood up abruptly and cleared his throat. “thank you for graciously accepting to help me in this way. where do we start?”

-0O0-

there was a grotto in the cliffs that you’d brought him to a few days later. your marui wasn’t exactly safe as you had various apprentices and friends who would pop in uninvited during the day for a chat.

the pools of the grotto itself were filled with various fish and plants that glimmered in the dim light. they startled as you walked passed them and headed to deeper inside while holding tonowari’s hand.

finally you got to a nook where grass and various plants were growing. they too glowed and offered a little light as you turned to look at tonowari but it was far too dim for you to read his expression well.

you cupped his face and he sighed as leaned into the warmth of your touch, as though your hand were a magnet. you placed your other hand onto his chest and glcould feel the nervous quickness with which it beat. again, you couldn’t help but feel he was incredibly adorable.

“calm down, it’s just us here.”

your voice was soft and gentle and he seemed to respond to it immediately as he loosened his tense shoulders. you trailed the hand that had cupped his cheek down to his arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“how do you feel?”

“nice. your hands i mean,” his voice shook slightly and he cleared his throat. “they feel…nice. good actually.”

you chuckled at his sincerity. “i’m the first woman touching the future olo’eyktan in this way, i gather?”

he nodded and swallowed. “can i…kiss you?”

“that’s why we’re here,” you pointed out. “go ahead.”

“right. okay. right.”

his boyish innocence endeared you tremendously. gone was the self-assured young man who led his peers, replaced with a boy who only wanted to please women but was too nervous to truly know how.

he leaned down and connected his lips to yours as he hesitantly grabbed your hips. it was certainly…a kiss. with too much of everything in his hastiness to please.

“wait,” you said softly, nudging his chest.

he pulled away from you looked at you with doe eyes, the same eyes he gave you when you were teaching him something new. never in a million years did you imagine he’d use them on you in this context.

“you don’t want to…overwhelm your partner,” you said softly. “it’s not a sprint. you want to tease them.”

“tease?”

you nodded as you moved your face closer to his. “it’s all about anticipation. it’s all well and good to go right to business but the journey is half the fun. make them want it more. make them want you more.”

you were speaking lowly and you lips brushed against his as you talked. he was transfixed on them and he moved forward slightly to connect them again but you pulled away slightly.

“teasing can do wonders,” you whispered as you faintly traced his hip with your fingers. “when used correctly it can make your partner a helpless, whimpering mess. all they’ll want is you. they’ll whine and beg for you because you’ll be all they’ll want. all they’ll need.” you traced your hand softly above his incredibly hard and clothed member, causing him to moan slightly.

you smirked. “anticipation is a powerful tool. that’s lesson number one.”

you kissed him and he melted into it immediately, wrapping his arms around you. this time you set the pace, tongue softly swiping at his lips. he moaned and allowed entry, absolutely breathless as you gently traced and tasted him.

“i need—” he said between kisses.

“what, sweet boy?” you asked softly.

“i need…what you did just now…your hand,” he gasped as you kissed his neck and closed your eyes. “touch me. don’t stop touching me.”

you laughed slightly but obliged, letting your hand softly graze his clothed cock. his hips jerked immediately at the touch and he bit his lip.

“do you touch yourself there?” you asked softly.

he nodded softly and swallowed. “not often though…no privacy.” he gasped again when you applied a bit more pressure.

you tutted. “sit for me, sweet boy.”

he sat on the soft ground and you knelt next to him before taking off his loin cloth. his cock sprung out, absolutely leaking precum which you touched tentatively. he moaned at this.

“your body is so responsive,” you cooed. “so eager to be touched.”

he nodded and you skirted a fingertip across the length. his breath hitched as you fondled his heavy balls and rubbed two fingers along his slit.

“you’re close,” you whispered in awe. “did kissing me excite you that much?”

you didn’t wait for answer as you rubbed along his length again, applying more pressure. his head fell back as his thighs tensed.

you straddled him, kissing him once again and felt him grab your hips like his life depended on it. when you separated you guided his head down to one of your breasts and he looked at you questioningly. you could die from his innocence.

“suckle on it. the nipples can be very sensitive for some women.”

he gave a tentative suck and you guided his hand to cup your breast as you explored your chest with his tongue. you wrapped your hand loosely around his cock and pumped it as he suckled which made him fall into you a little bit.

“it feels so good,” he panted.

“that’s the idea.”

you rubbed his cock a bit more, slowly and gently as you watched him try to concentrate on your nipples. it was cute how his eyebrows furrowed as he tensed up. you noted how he bit his lips softly, and the way his own movements stuttered in response to your ministrations.

you guided his hand to your most intimate of parts and watched as his expression changed to wonder when he felt how wet you were under your clothes. a chuckle left your lips and it took everything in your power not to kiss his cheek or forehead in response, lest he found it condescending.

“what’s this?”

“natural lubricant,” you said. “when a woman is incredibly aroused she makes it. some more than others. and when you put fingers inside her, it feels just as good as when i touch your cock.”

he raised his eyebrow but tentatively pushed two inside. you bit your lip at how thick his fingers were and had to swallow a gasp. the last person you’d had in your bed was too long ago now and the way tonowari’s fingers stretched you made you quiver softly. they were thick and powerful.

“like this?” he asked.

you swallowed. “yeah, move them in and out, rub along the walls.”

tonowari did as you instructed and this time you couldn’t hold in the moan which made him watch you in awe. his blue eyes traced along your face as he studied your expression as though taking a mental note of every twitch.

“when you do this i want you to imagine that it’s your cock instead of your fingers,” you said shakily.

“fuck,” he muttered as you bounced on his fingers. you felt his cock twitch against your stomach and you smiled as his expression turned to pure need. “touch me.”

again you touched him gently, using the copious amount of precum as lube as he closed his eyes.

he moaned and thrusted his hips every so often, panting and gasping. “i need you.”

you slowed your hands and watched him bite his lip, chest heaving as his head fell back, his hips thrusting pathetically. he was so close and you’d barely touched him.

you seized your movements and lined up his cock with your entrance. he bit his lip in anticipation and you slowly took him in. he filled you up deliciously, stretching you more than any man had before. you panted as you bottomed out and leaned over.

tonowari was a mess, hips thrusting involuntarily and lip swollen from how much he bit it. it was beautiful how much you’d ruined him.

slowly you began to move and his hips met your thrusts immediately, quickening the pace.

“wari, wait—”

“oh eywa,” he gasped, eyes shut tight but miraculously he listened to you. his hips seized but his thighs trembled under you. “i’m so close.”

you watched a tear trail down his face as he fought every urge to fuck into you. his desperation aroused way more than you thought possible and you kissed him softly.

“hold on, sweet boy,” you said softly. “wanna savour how you feel inside me, okay?”

he whimpered but nodded which made you smile softly.

his hips thrusted involuntarily a few times as you warmed his cock and hugged it inside you. he touched you everywhere he could while he waited obediently and you knew he was hanging on by a thread.

“need you,” he said. “please let me come.”

you thought for a moment as you regarded his panting mouth and heavy lidded eyes. the expression was something you wish you could savour for far longer but you knew it would be far too cruel for the inexperienced man.

you gave a single nod and his hips sprang into action, fucking into you relentlessly. there was no rhythm, as he’d been on edge for ages so when you let him take control and move you so that you were under him he pumped into you with wild abandon.

he moaned your name, a sound that shot straight to your clit. you’d wanted to tell him to fall into some kind of rhythm but his cock rubbed into your walls so perfectly that you could barely think.

the sounds of skin slapping skin reverberated throughout the grotto, your pants echoed and sweat rolled down tonowari’s beautiful face as he gave i in to the pleasure completely.

you had just enough sense to grab one of his hands and guided it to your clit, prompting him to rub it. your back arched immediately at the sensation and you pulled him down into you. tonowari let out a soft growl. it was a sound that you found that you deeply enjoyed and it didn’t take long for an orgasm to rip through you.

it was almost unexpected, and if you were being honest with yourself you had thought you wouldn’t come that evening at all, but you saw stars as a white heat tore through you. you trembled slightly as tonowari continued to rub your clit and your body jerked and spasmed. he watched in wonder and your fluttering walls only spurned him in even more as his hips snapped into you at a punishing pace.

finally he gave two hard thrusts and came inside you with soft moan, coating your walls. he continued to moan as he fucked you through his orgasm, and the cum got pushed out from the amount he’d made.

finally he pulled out and lay down next to you, panting from the exertion. while he caught his breath you took a moment to regard him and trace his face with your fingers.

“wow,” he muttered softly.

you giggled and kissed his cheek. “you did well. i’m impressed. truly.”

he laughed with you and grabbed the hand that you were using to touch him when you started to pull away.

“i think i’ll need a supplementary lesson,” he said. “to apply what i’ve learned.”

you raised an eyebrow. “i’m sure i can make that work.”

[intoanotherworld23]

Stairway To Heaven

Pairing: Female reader x Javier Pena

Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY DNI, yeah this whole thing is smut and sex, sex on top of stairs, jealous Javier, jealous reader, p in v, unprotected sex, swear words

Summary: There’s a reason stairs are better for you, and Javier proves exactly why

Hey y’all I really hope you guys are enjoying my work, and feel free to comment even if it’s just an emoji or writing tip/advice! I welcome all kinds of kind words you have to say! Also, reblogging does make a huge difference and let’s writers work expand even further across more viewers! If you wish to be added to my Pedro tag list don’t hesitate to ask and I’ll be more than happy to add you! Thanks everyone again so much you guys are the best! HEARTS, REBLOGS and COMMENTS are highly encouraged and all are appreciated! XOXO

Check out my other works on my Hall Of Hunks

"You just don't know when to stop do you?" Javier grumbled as you laid across the stairs knees bent with your legs spread enticing him even more.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Acting completely innocent in this current situation.

“It’s all games with you cariño.”

“Only if I win.” Cocking your head to the side mockingly.

"Oh sweetheart you never learn do you?" Watching as Javier crawled up the stairs until he was hovering above you lips pressed against yours. "Teasing me like that at the party."

“You we’re asking for it.” Raising your eyebrows at him as you leaned your head back.

He was chatting up one of the newer women at this office party leaving you by yourself. You already didn’t want to go, and then he has the audacity to flirt with someone else. Feeling your deadly glare from across the room, but he still didn’t come to you.

That’s when you found Steve standing awkwardly in the corner. Laughing at every stupid thing he said, and making sure to touch his arm or chest. Immediately catching Javier’s attention squinting his eyes at you in disapproval.

Excusing himself very quickly then dragging you to the car, and basically driving like a maniac to get home. A rush of excitement coursing through your body was what he was going to do to you.

“I had a right mind to not bend you over one of those tables and fuck you in front of everyone there.”

“Maybe you should have.” His mouth ghosting over your collarbone lips refusing to press against your skin.

“Is that so?” Nodding your head in response as you bit your bottom lip at the thought. “Mmm it would have been really fucking hot.”

His hands were all over you as you wrapped yours around his neck. Gripping onto him when you felt him push his body tightly against you. Feeling how hard he was for you and wiggling your hips just to push him a little bit further.

Javier growling into your mouth as you grinned knowing you got him. Not wasting any time in lifting up the bottom of your dress revealing your laced panties that already had a wet spot forming. Helping Javier unbuckle his pants and push them down his legs to the edge of his ankles.

"This what you wanted?" Mumbling against your lips. "To be fucked like the good little whore that you are."

"Yes." Your panties being pulled to the side a cold breeze hitting your core a shiver running up your spine.

"Tell me how badly you need it Y/N?" He teased as he rubbed the tip of his cock up and down your now soaked folds. "I want to hear those pretty lips beg for me."

"Javi I need you so badly it hurts." Biting your bottom lip as he watched you with hungry eyes. "I want you inside me so badly."

"I don't know sweetheart I'm not believing you." Sighing loudly in frustration as he played his own game with you.

"God Javier please fuck me so hard on these stairs that I can't walk for a week." Pleading up at him as you tried moving your hips hoping you could slip him inside of you.

"That's my good girl."Leaning forward pressing his entire cock inside of you a gasp slipping past your lips. "Holy fuck you are so wet baby."

Lifting his hips back up only to slam down into you. Whimpers and grunts filling the air as he quickly picked up his pace and found a steady rhythm. His head remained pressed into your neck as he nibbled on your skin. His arms enclosed around your head to feel even more close to you.

Moaning loudly into his ear every time he sharply thrusted into your body. Your back pressing into the edge of the stairs, but you pushed through the discomfort, and focused on Javier. Moving your arms so they wrapped around his back. Putting some slight pressure on his lower back to feel more of his movements.

"That's it baby your doing so good for me." Words of praise echoed in your ear when you whined and whimpered for him. "Look at you stuffed full of my cock."

Javier leaned himself up only to watch as his cock would disappear inside of you. Drenched in your arousal making this squishing sound that had him really start to howl like some wild animal. He loved to watch as you would take him so deeply, and was always amazed you took him well every time.

"You want it harder baby?" He teased his thrusts becoming slow and sensual. "Does my girl want me to fuck her harder?"

Clearly catching onto your writhing body underneath him trying to feel more. Even though the stairs were pressing into your skin you wanted it rougher. Your body wanted it. Your body needed it.

"Please Javi fuck me harder." Gritting through your teeth the frustration you felt never receding.

Rocking himself into your whole body to the point you were afraid you two would break the stairs. Feeling as he unleashed all his energy and power into you both of you in a state of euphoria. Seems like you weren't the only one who needed this either.

"God you look so good getting fucked on the stairs like this." Your left hand gripping the railing of the stairs.

Cheeks felt like they were on fire like someone was sticking a hot poker in front of your face. A drop of sweat descending down Javier’s face and onto your chest. Rolling down your chest and in between your breasts. It felt cool for a brief second but then soon evaporated from the heat.

"Just like that." Crying out as your legs wrapped around him like a vine.

"This is all you needed didn't you baby?" His tone mocking as he looked at the pleasure on your face.

The new angle had your toes curling so hard you were afraid they would sprain. You were getting so close you could feel it in the pit of your stomach. Javier didn't once slow down as he pounding into you so deeply he could see a bulge in your stomach.

"That's my good girl so good for me." Pressing his forehead against yours feeling you squeeze around him.

"Oh god Javi I'm gonna cum." Your legs were starting to tremble as your release was vastly approaching.

Your whole body felt like it was sitting on a bed of fire. Your skin was tingling all the way to your toes. Feeling your head spinning around closing your eyes as you felt that familiar coil in the pit of your stomach.

"Cum hard for me sweetheart." That was the final click in your brain covering him in your arousal.

"Oh fuck baby I'm right there." Groaning with a strained voice as he panted heavily above you his cock twitching violently inside you pumping you full of his warm seed.

Leaning his head back down on your heaving chest as both of you tried to catch your breath. Your legs shaking from your intense orgasm as Javier laid slump on top of your body. Leaving tender kisses on your chest as he helped you come down from your high.

Unsure if you were going to be able to move from the stairs. Your arms and legs felt like noodles, and you were a little worried if you tried to stand you’d fall right back down.

"And that’s why taking the stairs is good for you." He joked making you both burst into a fit of laughter.

——————————————

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989 @sullyosully

Tag list for Pedro Pascal: @pedrohoe04 @k-k0129 @marchai @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @milly-louise @kittenlittle24

[adorastarot]

🌙Master post

Hi everyone! My name is Adora and I'm 26 years old! Welcome to my blog and thank you so much for being here! I have been thinking about this for a long time and it's finally happening!

I am a tarot reader for a living and have been an ARMY for a few years and decided to bring my two passions together!

This will be the masterlist for my future posts (although it may change overtime)

‧₊˚✩彡Rules for asks

I only do free BTS readings, you can ask any questions you would like, but it is up to my discretion if I and the members are comfortable answering.

For personal readings & to donate please head over to my Ko-fi:

Readings available for purchase (delivered within 24hrs)

Some previously done BTS & YOU readings (shared with permission & name changed for privacy reasons)

‧₊˚✩彡Masterlist

•ᴗ•Ko-Fi Membership readings Masterlist

✩PAC Readings

Message for you from the cards

Message for you from BTS

✩BTS

FS' as coffee

Will BTS be their fs' first partners?

Yoongi, Namjoon & Jungkook's FS energy check (01/08)

How fans will react to fs' appearance

Do V's & JK's FS have a connection?

Supermoon's influence on BTS [30/08/23]

Random facts about the FS' [part 1]

Energy check on the FS [27/08/23]

Namjoon

What Namjoon is looking for in a partner & marriage

When will Namjoon meet his fs?

A message from Namjoon for his FS

Will Namjoon and fs connect straight away?

How does Namjoon's family feel about the fs?

How will Namjoon's fs' family think/feel about Joon?

How will BTS react to Joon's fs?

Yoongi

Yoongi's message and advice for his FS

Yoongi's message for fs part 2

FS message to Yoongi

Yoongi & FS first meeting

Yoongi and fs energy towards each other (30/07)

Yoongi & fs saga continues - after their meeting

How Yoongi & fs will solve arguments

Yoongi's karmic lessons

How did Yoongi's FS find out they were the one?

When will Yoongi and his fs meet?

Did Yoongi's fs watch D-DAY?

Yoongi & fs purpose

Is Yoongi's fs foreign?

How will Yoongi take care of his pregnant partner?

How will Yoongi act when jealous?

Yoongi's fs relationship with the members

Yoongi & fs meeting - updated

Yoongi's path to his fs

Yoongi's family reaction to fs

How is Yoongi's fs doing [31/08/23]

Is Yoongi's fs a celebrity?

How will BTS react to Yoongi's fs?

Hoseok

Hobi & FS attraction

Hobi's message and advice for his FS

Jimin

Jimin's message for his fs

Jimin's fs energy check

Jimin & FS meeting

Have Jimin & FS met?

Jimin's path to his fs

Does Jimin know anything about his fs?

How will Jimin care for his pregnant partner?

Taehyung

V's Album Theme & Current Energy

V's message and advice for his FS

How will V realise he has fallen for his fs

V's current love life (31/07)

How would V treat his pregnant partner?

Jungkook

Jungkook's Album - Concept & Sound

Message/Advice for JK's FS

Jungkook's love life

When will Jungkook meet his fs?

Jungkook & FS attraction

Jungkook's message and advice for his FS

Jungkook's first date with FS

The future of JK's lives

JK & cooking for the fs

How will JK and his fs solve relationship problems

Will Jk and his fs be an on and off couple

When will Jungkook realise he is falling for his fs

Does JK's fs know they are his fs?

Is Jungkook's fs foreign?

Jungkook's fs career

Is Jungkook's fs rich?

Jungkook & fs - purpose

Jungkook's fs message for him

Will Jungkook's parents like his fs?

Is Jungkook dating right now?

How will Jungkook take care of his pregnant partner?

Who will cook more? Jk or the fs?

Why is JK's fs special?

Does JK's fs know about the tarot readings?

JK's fs & Travel

Jungkook's path to fs

JK's family's view of the fs

How will Jungkook's fs take care of him?

Who in BTS will JK's fs get along with the most?

Jungkook's EX & FSo

What will JK's brother think about the fs?

[prettyboykatsuki]

if its not too tmi, the guide to making your girl cum might still be useful 😭 my gf and i are both in our first relationship and any help would be welcome

i have so many asks fdjslk?? abt this. like no bullshit at all maybe fifteen. but sure 👍🏾 note i am no sex expert or really anyone u should listen to but you know. i get okay reviews

first things first - the most important thing is learning to communicate with your partner. ik u have heard that many times but every body is different and if you can take instructions well, making someone cum is much easier. like. people say it all the time for good reason but just focus on listening more than anything else

also im using woman / she + her but this advice applies to any afab people who are not currently talking T👍🏾 testosterone changes some stuff so i'd give diff advice on some parts abt touching n stuff

learning how to take an apply what ur told is truly like 99% of the game

for women in particularly - u should probably carve out a chunk of time. most women need at least 15 minutes if it's with a partner (often more) and if it's your first time tg it's good to take each other apart and get comfortable

also somewhat obvious but you absolutely cannot forgo foreplay. truly cannot be overstated but u can't. lol

if share the same parts, u are already at somewhat of an advantage as you have some ideas on where to touch etc. neck and chest are always safe bets, and so is inner thigh etc. deep kissing is always also a safe bet. don't overthink it too much, just do your best to communicate both appreciation and attraction

foreplay also starts before getting naked being genuine. undressing someone or showing sensual affection is your friend. ik this sounds corny but its very genuine advice lol

a lot of foreplay is both to build arousal but also getting someone out of their head. a lot of women in particular tend to get really hung up on various aspects of the process. if you can effectively get them out of that mindspace, you're already on your own way

sometimes dirty talk is good and dirty talk does not need to be crass - making sensual small talk can go a long way. praising how she looks or feels, showing your enthusiasm by telling you're looking forward to making her feel good.

thank you is also always safe in that process. thank you for letting me touch you, thank you for trusting me to make you feel good etc. and if you're not feeling confident - it does the same job as something more dirty lol

here is some more specific stuff 👍🏾

a lot of getting 2 know someone sexually is figuring out various sensitivities and pressure. generally speaking, women tend to lean one way or the other when it comes to pressure on different areas of the body for foreplay.

(usually of course, there is some mix of both - but at least in my experience there is more general lean one way vs another)

some people prefer softer touches and caressing and some people prefer more deep pressure and groping. always start on on the soft end and move towards the other slowly.

YOU WILL WANT TO LEARN INDIRECT VS DIRECT PLEASURE. ON YOUR PARTNER AND WHAT THEY PREFER !!!

some parts of a womans body are too sensitive to be touched directly, and they may highly prefer indirect contact as their choice of pleasure. if a womans clit is too sensitive, you might want to stimulate the area just around or underneath instead of directly touching their clit. use their clitoral hood as a buffer essentially.

the clit itself firms up but it's an entire area inside of your body. and what's exposed is just one nerve. its why touching or rubbing the sides can still make effective foreplay because internally the clit has a whole body etc

the hardest part about clitoral stimulation is reading reactions. but the clit will respond to pleasure physically most of the time. try things deliberately, and time your tongue or fingers in a way that lets you gauge their reaction

if someone is feeling good - you'll usually get a very faint throb. you have to look for it to notice it sometimes, but the intensity of that throbbing is what will tell you. clits are similar to dicks in that way

same thing goes for nipples usually. plenty of people like it being touched or sucked directly (again it is all abt sensitivity and pressure) - but it's common for the area to be too sensitive.

touching around, through / over the fabric of their top (this works better with non-silky materials / stuff with no slip), and underneath can also do the job. if the nipples are sensitive to the point of being unpleasurable - the swell underneath the boobs is often a good place to show affection. u can try running your fingers underneath to cup and squeeze instead. or just

the no slip thing is because rougher fabric give nice friction. being touched through cotton feels different from silk. its more hit or miss in my experience

im going to break down the advice about actual fucking into three parts so bear with me .

the most important thing for ALL of this is fucking consistency. listen to me im being so serious. when you hit a rhythm do not stop. ESPECIALLY if she tells you not too.

oral: this one is tricky because there's truly not a universally good way of eating pussy. it's like... four of the above skills wrapped in one skill. so even if i wanted to school you in i don't think i could lol

my best advice is to remember the above about pressure and sensitive and start slow. stimulate the surrounding areas with your tongue, do a lot of teasing. if she's too embarrassed to tell you things verbally, this will usually push her to showing you at least. if she bucks up against you that's a good sign to give a little more pressure.

building pressure is important here. she will feel pretty much every part of your tongue, so make sure you are careful and listen to what she says or does. when you find the rhythm to lick, it's normally safe to suck on her clit (from light pressure to deeper pressure like before)

you will know when you're hitting the right everything because it will start to pulse in your mouth and she will squirm more. when you're there, stay there and don't move unless you're going to die. learn to breathe through your nose lol

FOR PENETRATION THERE IS TWO THINGS. and most time you will still want to pair with clit stimulation but rmb 2 ask.

fingering: the vagina is one of those things that is very hit or miss. with fingering in particular. for most women, it feels better to have another person do it. and it's best combined with clitoral stimulation so it can often be a two-handed affair or used as a sidepiece to oral.

the most pleasure will be felt around the actual opening and against the gspot. the opening has a lot more sensitive which is why the thrusting motion feels good. the g-spot can also feel good, but keep in mind that a gspot orgasm is internal and can feel especially intense. so just be prepared for what reaction you might get and maybe getting pee-d on. or squirted on. or both.

finding the g-spot isn't complicated, it will feel a little textured and have a little more give. with enough arousal it will also be swollen and easier to find.. you will hear a lot about the come hither motion, but what you're actually doing is rubbing along the upper walls.

again, everyone is different but honestly - i've had good luck combining a thrusting motion with the rubbing motion. use your wrist to move so you don't get tired. you can pick what fingers to use but middle and pointer is go to, so you can angle your palm against their clit (in the instance you are just using your hands).

FOR SEX TOY PENETRATION:

dildos: if i tried to explain how the strap works we would simply be here all day, so i will be talking about the dildo as a separate appendage used with your hands and not as part of a strap-on. strap sex is too much of a science lmao

almost all of the time - using a dildo is trying to create the same stimulation as above with gspot pressure, but that's not the only way. there are several angles and those angles hit different things, so it's worth experimenting with this. but for internal orgasm and using dildos - you want to understand comfort and friction.

lube is your friend, but too much slip can make it feel like nothing so build up the lube slowly. some resistance can feel pleasurable and is often ideal. with dildo, you also want to keep in mind the rigidity and maybe buy a toy together. a dildo can be too hard or too soft depending on what it's made with

internal orgasms rely a lot on muscle tension and angling, as well as pace. everyone is different and there is once again no universal way but your best bet is a rhythmic, pushing up motion. if you're using a dildo on your partner, i recommend put a pillow underneath their spine for easier angling.

LAST BUT NOT LEAST, REMEMBER ALL ORGASMS ARE TENSION RELEASE.

you need to build tension to release it and keep tension to cum. the need for steadiness and rhythm comes from that. if you're wanting to make someone orgasm, some physical tension can really help - so asking your partner to grab your hair and hold onto your wrist can be helpful. giving their muscles something to flex and hold can redirect focus and help with intimacy so let her pull your hair or dig her nails in your back or grab your wrist. it will actually get u closer to the orgasm

remember most of all though to have fun and feel good together. sex isn't a performance, it's a mutual act of pleasure. too much pressure will kill your boner. good luck 🫡

[amourdivine]

🫧 ˚ ୨ A M O U R D I V I N E ୧ ‧

›    tipping. available at amourdivinetarot@gmail.com via paypal. ›    personal readings. closed indefinitely. ›    established in. december 2021. ›    updated as of. february 2024.

MASTERLIST ୭ EXCHANGE READINGS ୭ ABOUT ME

disclaimer. Tarot is a divination tool, it's not a substitute for medical and professional advice, nor is it meant to be taken as such. I don’t take responsibility for any choices made by you or others regarding my readings. Be mindful ♡

☁️ ˚ ୨ the reader ୧ ༉ ‧

Hello, you may call me Amour! I'm twenty eight years old and I go by she/they. I've been reading tarot since 2021, though I'll always feel like a perpetual newbie. I'm an eternal optimist, I love mermaids, faeries and angels. Within my style of reading, I like to incorporate my own kind of magic with kindness and respect for other people. The blunt, "no bullshit" type of readings are not my style and I believe they do more harm than good. You'll also find I don't resonate with the concept of twin flames, new age practices (manifestation, LoA, etc) and binary concepts of "masculine vs. feminine" energies solely. My readings are meant to be inclusive of all gender identities and sexualities, but you are more than welcome to correct me if there's a slip up. I love feedback and I'm always eager to know how my readings may (or may not) have resonated with others. Enjoy your stay! ♡

☁️ ˚ ୨ frequently asked ୧ ༉ ‧

do you offer exchange readings? how can i get one?

Yes, but they're closed for the time being. I'm still working on a proper page with guidelines and examples of my exchange readings so my page is more organized.

where do you get your images and graphics?

Unsplash or Pinterest. I make my graphics with Photoshop and occasionally, Photopea. However, none of the images used are mine unless stated otherwise!

[astrology related questions]

Please keep in mind I am not answering these at the moment. Since astro is not my forte and I prefer divination in the form of tarot decks, oracle decks and shufflemancy, my answers will not be accurate.

☁️ ˚ ୨ find me... ༉ ‧

INSTAGRAM ୭ YOUTUBE ୭ PATREON ୭ PAYHIP

amourdivine. 2021 - 2024 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.