#feels weird to put something on here i've written myself

[orchidyoonkook]

The Devil Wears Valentino | MYG

Title: The Devil Wears Valentino  

Pairing: Devil!Min Yoongi x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Spooky AU, Supernatural Creatures AU, Not Quite Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Technically Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Fluff

Summary: Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty.

Warnings: language, violence, tae is a menance, drinking and alcohol, Min Yoongi as the Devil -> Lucifer Morningstar? we dont know him, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, mentions of rape -> Sal's an ass and he deserved what he got, somewhat graphic gore/horror (yoon tries her best but she's not very good at spooky), slight POV switches, one (1) mention of reader having hair, fluffy in parts,

Explicit warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 10,488

Release Date: October 31, 2023, 12:00PM

A/N 1: Ahhhh! Welcome to my very first halloween special!!! I wanted to do something for my favourite holiday this year, and I've had this title written down without a plot for maybe just over a year? So I'm really excited to finally use it!!

A/N 1.5: Thank you to my absolute darling @katykatmeow for beta'ing this for me so late in the night. I adore you so much

A/N 2: The whiskey glass and whiskey are hand drawn vectors because I'm a glutton for punishment. Why do I keep doing this to myself.

Explicit Warnings: ahaha uhhh, unprotected sex (dont be stupid) kissing, breast play, fingering, oral (f rec), groping, pet names (sickening amount), dirty talk, praise, slight degredation, hair pulling (m rec), spitting, handjob, body worship, cowgirl, from the back, missionary, a lil bit of crying, spanking, size kink, voice kink, hand kink (look, he's a lot okay, don't blame reader), sl*t/wh*re mentions, multiple orgasms, creampie, I think thats it? Yoon went a little bananas with this one.....

Slow jazz floats through the air of the club, wading around the modestly-sized venue. You’d say it was almost cozy, but with the expensive feel of the place, cozy just didn’t seem like the right word. 

Intimate. That would be a better choice. 

From behind the bar where you stand, to the velvet couches in the back covered by decently dressed lesser demons, piano plays alongside gentle drums. Dark navy cushions soak in their conversation of effective torture methods, discussed like stock market trends, they dissect the best way to decapitate someone so you can instill the most pain and suffering. 

The answer is always with a dull knife and from the back, blindly. Never knowing when the next cut will be is half the agony. 

You try not to pay attention to that though, because the only thing you need to know is that they drink Vodka Tonics and lesser demon number four’s glass is looking to be on the emptier side.

He’ll be back for another soon.

While you wait for his arrival, the rhythmic notes continue on, gliding along shiny, black floor tiles. They pass the burgundy leather booths that face the stage, full of vampires trying to relive long lost youth in the old melodies played. They turn to stone just a little bit more with every passing minute they’re forced to live, keeping no company besides the pleasant burn down their throats and ever present melancholy. 

Banshees listen in from the mezzanine, only ever soft spoken when they’re here. Covered by velvet draped ceilings that dampen sounds to the outside world, the women of three distinct ages sit at tall tables. The young in heels and short dresses, proudly showing off their youth, while the elders choose more elegant wares, content as they can be in their skin, considering their blood soaked pasts. 

Banshees tend to discuss privately amongst themselves, ordering walk up service so as to never mingle with the men on the floor. You can’t blame them, especially knowing how they all got here in the first place, but they’re polite when they enter, greeting you kindly despite what you are to them. The trays you bring up for them never waver from their drink of choice, The Irish Sour.

And then there are the Djinn, who come in mostly just to pass the time. Sitting by themselves at the bar, or in no more than groups of two at a far table, they never interact with anyone other than the bartender or themselves. Djinn are increasingly solitary creatures of the night, with the fear of their kind lessening in mortals, you’re starting to see less and less of them as the days pass, and you’re almost sad to see them go. 

Djinn are your favourites. They come in, order, keep to themselves, and then leave. It’s a nice change from the usual light conversation you’re forced to keep with patrons. Plus their orders are always easiest, as they only drink virgin. It’s a bit of a blow to the bar aspect of the establishment, but they come for the atmosphere, grateful to have a place they can exist with like minded folk—even if they don’t interact. There’s a comfort in familiarity, you guess.

Occasionally some other creatures of the night mix into the masses; fae, chimera, leprechauns, goblins, et cetera. All dressed in their nicest clothes to accommodate your work's dress code, all here for peace from their day jobs, to drown their sorrows, or somewhere in between. 

Some come for an hour, others come for the night, but it’s mostly just your regulars who tend to remain, as do their drink orders. It’s a relatively easy job, and you don’t mind the company. 

Most of the time.

You’ve just finished serving the lesser demon from earlier when your coworker bugs you for the hundredth time tonight. 

“I don’t get why you're so hellbent on this, Y/N. If you’re closing, he’s coming. Because he always comes when you're closing. It’s simple math.”

“No he doesn't,” you dismiss Taehyung, a cocky but rather beautiful incubi, annoyedly. Taehyung is the type that knows he’s pretty and uses it to his every advantage, including being able to say whatever he wants and get away with it. And it would piss you off except it works on you too.

Fucking incubi demons…

You were one of only two mortal bartenders, the other being Lia, a cute blond who only works here for the tips. The boss likes to keep a couple humans on staff in case any wanderers stupid enough to come inside a den of nocturnal, evil creatures didn’t catch the vibe and immediately fuck off. 

You’d be surprised at how shitty some people's self preservation instincts are.

You asked your boss once—a very large, very well built, very well connected vampire—why he bothered having a layer of protection for them. His only response was: “Business is business.”

Plus he knows he can’t have a trail of bodies that lead directly to his club's front steps, so he keeps a couple of mortals around just in case. This way, with you two here, there was always someone who knew all the drinks the humans could have, and someone to keep all the greedy eyes around the venue in check, as you have banning and kicking out privileges. 

Because where you saw Kin, your regulars saw food, a hunt, or a job. They saw something to be taken advantage of or killed. They saw poor, weak, pathetic little mortals that should’ve been eradicated centuries ago had their ancestors been smarter. 

They are the superior beings in their eyes, your race is just a bug to be squashed under their proverbial boot. 

It makes you worry what they think of you. Is the only thing that stops them from devouring you whole the fact that you make their drinks just the way they like it, that you have a use in serving them? Or do they respect you enough now that you understand how to act around them and know what they’re like? What they are. 

You worry, but you’ll never know the truth because you aren’t stupid enough to ask and show weakness. They can smell that shit from a mile away, and all it does is paint a 30 foot wide target on your back. 

“Yes he does. I bet you tonight's tips he’ll be here in the next two hours,” Taehyung presses. 

And ooohh, a night’s worth of tips, bragging rights, and winning a bet against Tae all sound way too good damn to pass up. 

“You’re delusional,” you say, holding out a hand. Tae grabs and shakes, as you agree to his terms. “And you’re on, don’t come crying when you lose.” 

There’s no way he’ll show up. It’s Friday night, the night of sin, he’s going to be up to his eyeballs with work…stuff.

“Easiest money I’ve ever made,” Taehyung grins, and with the confidence in which he does, you begin to second guess your own.

It’s not that you did or didn’t want him to show up, it’s just that your relationship with him is…complicated at best. You never really knew how to navigate a conversation with him outside of surface level banter and jokes, but it’s always been like that with you two.

Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty. 

But you could never. Not with who and what you are, and who and what he is. 

Regardless of how you fight the heat down in your cheeks every time you see him, and how your heart flutters against your will in multiple places in your body at even the thought of being near him.

Regardless of the fact that you shut him down every time he suggests anything more than an over the bar conversation, and the way your panties seem to always dampen in his presenc–fuck. 

It’s happening again. Stop thinking about it, stop, stop st–wait. You turn, seeing the violet ichor in Tae’s eyes and you know the bitch is using his power on you. You flip the asshole off and he chuckles.

He’s been trying to get you to change your mind ever since the first time he saw you deny yourself. 

“You know I can tell when you’re hot and bothered right? Incubus, remember? It’s literally part of who I am.” 

To which you think again, fucking incubi…

Your most infamous regular is, to quote your favourite tv show, ‘the bane of your existence and the object of all your desires,’ and you will never, ever entertain his annoying, disgustingly hot ass more than you already do. Not after everything you went through the first—and last—time with a creature of the night. 

You learned your lesson.

So instead, you try to think of him more like an old friend. The kind that’s actually really old already, but looks amazing for his age. The kind that makes shivers run up your spine when he talks to you in the deepest, most gravel turning voice you’ve ever heard, that you also ignore out of pure self preservation. He’s the kind that you shove out of your thoughts at night when your alone and in desperate need of relie—Fucking Taehyung! 

You whip your head around to search for the violet eyed incubus, only to see him across the bar helping some stocky vampire. And you’re about a hair's breadth away from ripping him a new one in front of said vampire when the idle hum of chatter in the bar ceases and the band’s calming music falters into missed notes and a cymbal crash that's too hard; awkward, painful silence remaining.

From behind you, you can hear the front door close, followed by light footsteps that grow louder and louder. Only once the seat directly behind you creaks with the sound of being occupied, does the chatter and music resume.

Which can only mean one fucking thing. 

You just lost all your tips for the night. 

Tae’s shit eating grin as he looks over your shoulder confirms it. 

Fuck. 

“Excuse me,” the bottom of the ocean floor speaks and you make a conscious effort not to react.

“Ardbeg Single Malt, neat?” You throw over your shoulder, not bothering to look just yet. 

You know precisely where he sits. And he knows you know. 

“Sounds perfect,” he responds, and you focus on ‘looking for the bottle.’ 

You know exactly where it is.

No one else will touch it. 

Taehyung busies himself with bringing an order of Bloody Mary’s down to a booth on the floor, knowing he’ll be burned alive if he so much as looks at a whiskey glass. 

No one serves him but you. 

But more importantly, nobody disrespects you in front of him. A lesson your ex–see: dead–coworker, Sal, learned the hard way. His burn mark is still seared onto the floor behind you. 

You’d almost felt bad that day, but he was a lust demon who touched you without your permission, hit on you every five minutes, and when you said no, treated you like shit.

You’d been close to dousing him with vodka and lighting him up yourself, but the man tapping his fingers on the bar behind you beat you to it 15 seconds after sitting down one night last year. 

After shoving Sal off you for the fourth time that night, he was pissed. Whispering obscenities to himself loud enough so you would hear,

“Fucking stupid mortal bitch, maybe next time I’ll just drag you into an alley do whatever the fuck I want. Nobody here’s going to stop me. And maybe then you’ll learn to shut up with this dick in your cunt and my fingers down your throat, huh? Leave you to rot with the garbage where you belong after you’re all used up.”

He didn’t take another breath. 

A single burst of blistering flame had Sal reduced to ashes in seconds. You’d felt the heat from it, but your skin remained burn free, safe from its dangerous blaze. The lust demon from then on only existed as a smudge on the ground to be walked over.  

“Thanks,” You’d said.

“It’s where he belongs,”  he responded. 

Grateful for his kindness, you entertained him more than usual that night. Engaged in an actual conversation, about your birthday of all things. You had no idea why he wanted to know, but you considered the information his reward for helping you, and he seemed pleased with it.

But he was more than pleased. 

After years, you’d revealed something to him. Something personal.

He took it as a sign that he might be able to get you to change your mind one day, if he did everything just right. Having played the long game before, this was no different. The only thing different this time, was you. 

Maybe it was the way you walked with such confidence, or the way you never cowered in fear around him. Not the day you met nor any day after. Or maybe you were sent by his father just to mess with his head. He didn’t care. All he knew was what he wanted, and that he was more than willing to wait as long as was needed to get it. 

A nursery rhyme from your childhood plays in your head every time you see him. It never wavers, just like the eyes you can feel on the back of your neck, watching your experienced hands make his drink. 

Quietly, you recite it to yourself while you grab the bottle;

‘One for sorrow,

Two for joy,

Three for a girl,

Four for a boy,

Five for silver,

Six for gold,

Seven for a secret never to be told.’

You pour, steady hand making it last as long as you possibly can to gain a few more seconds to compose yourself. 

‘Eight for a wish,

Nine for a kiss,

Ten a surprise you should be careful not to miss,

Eleven for health,

Twelve for wealth,’

You put the bottle down and cork it before returning it to its place on the shelf. Taking a deep breath, you turn to finally face him, and change the wording of the last line to fit your situation better.

“One Ardbeg Single Malt neat, for the Devil himself.” 

He snickers, “I always liked that nursery rhyme. It’s cute. Like you, Angel.” 

You roll your eyes. To anyone else that would sound like a compliment. But coming from the Devil it’s more of an insult. One you know is meant in a playful way after all these years, crass in his humour, just like you. And you know he can take a little heat back.

“Wow, that’s a classic,” you grab a glass to polish, keeping your hands busy so they don’t do something stupid while you’re distracted. “Got one of those for you too, ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’” 

He chokes on a laugh before straightening on the barstool and putting on a face. “I don’t think that joke’s appropriate.” 

“Oh come on Yoongi, you come at me with ‘It’s cute, like you, Angel’ and I can’t poke back?” You ask, knowing full well his uncomfortable look is all an act. “I thought you didn’t have any feelings besides rage, lust and currently; insufferable flirting.”

You know the entire club listens in to your conversation. 

No one calls the Devil by his first name. 

Nobody speaks to the Devil unless spoken to. 

And no one makes jokes at the Devil’s expense and lives. 

No one except you. 

What a funny little exception you are.

Yoongi drops the act, a sly smirk that sends bubbles to your brain, replacing it. “So you admit my flirting isn’t always bad. Must be doing something right then.”

You force yourself not to slam a palm into your forehead. Of course that’s what he got out of your sentence.

You aren’t going to make his ego any bigger than it already is. 

“It isn’t working,”—fuck, yes it is—“if that’s what you’re asking. Can’t say I’m surprised though, I hear you’ve been out of the game for a couple millenia,” he quirks a brow at that. 

Ooo, that means you’re nearing thin ice, haven't been there in a while…Let’s see if you can slide around a bit more without falling in. 

“I mean, I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. If you stay consistent at your current rate of progress you could hit me up in,” you suck air in through your teeth and look at the ceiling, before checking a watch you don’t wear, pretending to think, “a thousand years?” You tease, a lilt in your tone. Because if Yoongi was going to make your shift this fucking difficult just by breathing near you, then you sure as Hell can do the same for his night. 

He chuckles like the coals of a fire and you cross your legs behind the bar. Motherfucker… 

“Someones got a mouth on them tonight,” he says, looking directly into your eyes as he takes his first sip, savouring the taste before swallowing. His tongue dips to his bottom lip for any remnants and you gulp, vision dropping for a millisecond—oh for the love of—and you finally notice what he’s wearing.

Much to your dismay and dwindling willpower, he looks fucking good. With only a white scarf to accent, the all black Valentino suit fits in perfectly with the bar’s dress code, as well as the long slicked back hair he’s only recently started to grow out. Just seeing it like this makes you want to run your hands through and mess it up. 

You’ve always had a thing for men with long hair, ever since you were young.

Jack Sparrow, Madmartigan, even The Winter Soldier. And come to think of it, none of them were exactly the good guys in their respective universes either…

Nope! No. You can’t. You can’t.

You can’t for so many reasons, so many good and bad and everything in between reasons. You’re nothing more than a flimsy human while he’s the Great Immortal Evil. The person people whisper the name of for fear of incurring his wrath. 

The King of Hell. 

He’s the person that walks into a room and everyone balks under his gaze, terrified of what he may do. He’s killed millions with no mercy. Doesn’t so much as think twice to horrifically burn someone where they stand to ash in hellfire for breathing the wrong way near him. He lavishes in the screams of sinners, punished in their own blood and bones, beaten into a shell of who they were in the nine circles of Hell. Left gaping, broken and sobbing in agony for their suffering to end. 

Yoongi is walking nightmares and visceral terror. He is merciless violence and brutality abandon. 

Yoongi is living, breathing, unyielding death wrapped up in deceivingly beautiful packaging. 

He is the epitome of someone you should not like, should not go near, and definitely should not want in the way the thrumming in your bones is telling you, you want him.

You have to stay away from him. 

But that doesn’t mean you can’t flirt back a little.

As salaciously as you can muster, you whisper low, “But it’s nothing you can’t handle,” and you swear you see a hint of surprise in Yoongi’s eyes, followed by something so much deeper that you have to look away under the guise of checking for any newcomers. 

It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. One you need to move the pieces of very, very carefully. 

There’s a handful of people waiting to be served, but none disturb Yoongi’s service. So you’re forced and relieved to cut the interaction short. For both the waiting patrons, and your sanity. 

“Enjoy the whiskey, Yoongi.”

Yoongi doesn’t bother you for the rest of the night, instead he watches you help the other patrons and make drinks. No one dares sit within three seats of him on either side, so the booths and tables fill more than the bar does, forcing you to do more tray work than you like. And you think you can feel those eyes on the back of your neck travel elsewhere.

Soon after he takes his last sip, Yoongi leaves far too much cash on the table to cover a single drink, and you know Tae won’t include it in tonight's bet. He rather enjoys being alive. 

The first time he did this you tried to give it back, insisting it was too much. But one threat to Tae’s life had you accepting the outrageous amount he left you every time. Despite how much he gets on your nerves, you rather enjoy Taehyung's company on your shifts. And you didn’t want to risk having a new coworker like Sal again. 

Thank you, Yoongi. You silently think to yourself every time he does. His tips are one of the only reasons you’re able to take care of yourself so well. 

You live in an apartment you should not be able to afford on a bartender's wage. Eat well, buy all the brand name products for the skin care routine you could only dream of having as a teenager, and you’re able to get yourself a little treat every once in a while. 

All thanks to the one man the world claimed was the purest entity of evil there was. 

And maybe he is. 

But not to you. 

The rest of your night, and closing go smoothly. The journey home passes by in a flash and soon you’re flopping into your bed, asleep before you hit the pillow. 

You dream of Yoongi and Hellfire and things only your subconscious will let you. The thoughts that you force away every time you see him. 

The burn of his hands on your skin and his lips on your neck. The warmth that spreads over your entire body at the mere mention of your name from his lips. His tongue in places you wouldn’t dare allow him to even think about in the waking world. 

And you wake from an orgasm he wasn't in the waking world to give you. 

It’s the last Saturday in October, which means it’s also your birthday.

You found it rather funny that the one person the Devil could stand to conversate with was born on his night. Maybe that’s coincidence or maybe that’s fate, either way you didn’t care, because you had it booked off work and you were going to a bar and dancing with your friends, dressed up in the sluttiest costumes you could find. 

Your recent visit with your birthday's namesake inspired your costume this year. Wearing the shortest, blood red leather dress you could find, the slits up the sides ran almost to your hips, and a corseted waist that made you feel sexy and fierce. You’d paired it with some velvet horns, a tail, pitchfork, crimson lace stockings and your most recent edition; red bottomed strappy stilettos. 

They’d been your birthday present to yourself, courtesy of Yoongi’s most recent tip. And needless to say, you felt hot as shit. No one could tear you down tonight.

All your friends met at your house before ridesharing down to a club. It’s loud, hazy, and filled with other Devil’s Night party goers as you arrive, smoke lingering in the air and you can feel the wave of dancing coming from further inside. 

Someone buys you your first round within a minute of being let in, lemon drop filling your taste buds as you knock back the shot. Another is ordered immediately after the first, it runs smoother and tastes like chocolate as you make your way to the dance floor. 

Aside from you, your friends are dressed up as a wild mix of characters. Rey is dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo, Yaejin is Nezuko from Demon Slayer, Bryce is a gender bent Legolas from Lord of the Rings, Declan is Donatello from the Ninja Turtles, Cam is a ghost, and Trin is a character from a book you’ve never read. Something about dragons and magic and vermin—or was it venin? Whatever. But they were in all black and had used silver hair spray on the tips of their hair.

You let the alcohol make its way through your veins as you dance, loosening up. The DJ mixes songs together in a way that never has the crowd thinning out and you laugh as you move with your friends, swaying and rocking and grinding. 

You needed this.

A night out just to let go, have fun, forget everything and hopefully get lucky by the end of it. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone to bed, and birthday sex sounds amazing the more the lemon drop, and what you finally learned was a tootsie roll shot, settle into your system. 

You aren’t drunk by any means, but you are buzzed and having a blast. An orgasm sounds like the only thing that could possibly make this night any better. So you make your way around the dance floor, keeping one eye open for any potentials, but mostly just dancing with Rey and Cam. The others either grabbing another drink back at the bar or resting their legs in a booth. 

“Babe,” Rey says, hands around your neck with Cam behind you, hands on your hips. You all sway to the beat of the admittedly sensual song playing. 

“Yeah?” You ask, opening your eyes to meet hers and she leans in closer. 

You can hear the smile on her lips, “Major tall, dark and handsome at 9 o'clock has been eyeing you for at least a half hour. I say you ditch me and Cam and go enthrall the man with your company for a little while. We’ll be fine on our own.” 

Heating at her words you’re excited to see who’s gone and done half your job for you tonight when your eyes stop dead on target. 

In a private booth in the VIP section, blending in far too well with the mortals around him, he wears a button down black satin top and dress pants. Thick silver links adorn his neck, complimenting the hoops in his lobes as well as the mouth watering rings on his fingers and you’re quite sure the bottoms of his black leather shoes match the red of your own. 

Yoongi. 

God he looks good. Unfairly so. And he carries that knowledge with him in his movement. His confidence never wavering like a mortal’s would.

Aside from two twisting black horns you’ve never seen before protruding from his deliciously tousled hair—hair you still want to pull on until he’s making sounds no ones ever heard come out of his mouth before, now moreso than ever—Yoongi is a darker version of yourself. 

Except for him, it isn’t a costume, it’s real, real, real. 

And he looks like sin incarnate. 

Fitting. 

Fuck, you’re so screwed. What were all those reasons it could never work again? The ones that explain why you shouldn’t take the Devil home and let him fuck you into next Sunday?

Suddenly, you can’t remember any of them. Not when Yoongi’s eyes never leave your red-clad form as he sips on what you know to be subpar whiskey. Your core melts into lava at the way he looks up and down, taking all of you in like you’re the one thing on this planet he needs to survive, and he’ll stop at nothing and spare absolutely no one until he gets you. 

Rey gives Cam a look and their hands drop, allowing you to almost float over to where Yoongi lounges, maneuvering between bodies undulating to music that’s being deafened by the heartbeat in your ears.

When you reach him, you leave a somewhat respectable distance between you two, a step down from the dias the booth sits on. 

Seeing him so much clearer now, you almost whine. How does he look even better up close? You want to sit on his lap, his face, have him bend you over the table then flip you over and feast like a man starved. 

Fuck! No, you can’t. And you also can’t blame Tae for those thoughts either, he isn’t here.

They were all you. 

Maybe his plan was working after all…

“What are you doing here?” You manage, grateful that you hadn’t had more to drink, but even more grateful for the ones you did. You needed a little liquid courage right now, even if it turned your thoughts into gutter sewage.

What he doesn’t know can’t hurt you…right? You just have to keep a lid on it. The one that’s loosening the more you look at him.

“It’s your birthday,” he says, producing a small black box wrapped with a bow. “I have a gift.”

He…he got you a present? He’s never done that before. But then again, before last year, he never knew when it was.

“You remem—I—you didn’t have to get me anything,” you stutter ungracefully, mouth trying to keep up with your racing thoughts. “I already got these shoes with the tip you left me last time,” you say, extending your leg to show off your newest purchase. The action reveals more leg than you meant it too and he catches the garter you have pulled around your thigh.

A fire ignites in his eyes at the sight, and you can feel their sparks everywhere he looks. Starting at your toes and moving all the way up back to your pretty irises. 

“I’m flattered by the way,” he says. “In your costume choice.”

Huh? You look down and heat rises to your cheeks in a way it never has before. Oh fuck, oh fuck. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

Here you stand, before the actual Devil—horns out in all their glory—dressed as him on his namesake night. 

Of course this would happen to you, of course it would. This is what you get for fucking around. You found out. And you don’t know whether to be mortified, beg for forgiveness, or laugh yourself hoarse. 

Going with none of the above, you choose to play it off instead, the way you always do when he manages to fluster you. “Consider me inspired by how recently I last saw you,” you say, taking the single step up the dias and twirling for him. 

You show every angle of your costume you can, letting the booze in your system do its job of making you more confident than you currently are.

“What do you think?”  

Yoongi stands, taking the two strides needed to be face to face with you, his voice is quiet and even, so only you can hear.

“May I touch?”

You don’t hesitate. 

“Yes.” 

Yoongi reaches behind you and pulls the fake tail from the back of your dress, then the pitchfork from your grasp and throws them into the booth, not caring where they land.

“Mmm,” he hums, placing his hands on your hips and spinning you once more. Lightning strikes every single nerve ending where his fingertips meet your body. 

This time when he speaks, his voice is touched with the bit of demon that’s inside of him, dragging its claws along the floor of the 9th circle of Hell as he growls, “You’re perfect.” 

Your heart does backflips and cartwheels and nose dives all at once. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and if your panties weren’t wet before, they definitely are now. 

Tugging gently, he guides you to the booth, sitting first before dragging you over his lap, knees meeting his hips. One of his hands rests on your thigh while the other reaches for something you can’t be bothered to figure out because oh my god, oh my god, you’re straddling him. Your straddling the Devil, dressed as the devil and probably already looking semi-fucked out while you do. This is probably a bad idea—no. This is definitely a bad idea. But you also have absolutely zero plans to stop literally anything that’s happening. 

The gift box makes a reappearance, and he hands it over to you. 

“Thank you,” you say automatically, trying and failing to ignore the fact that both of his hands now rest on your thighs. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…..

Undoing the little black bow, you open it, revealing a delicately simple necklace. Its light weight chain holding a small pink stone pendant. 

Beautiful. 

“Pink Tourmaline,” Yoongi says. 

“My birthstone,” you reply.

“Your birthstone.”

You stare at the little crystal, cut and polished to perfection. Not a single flaw.

“Yoongi I—I don’t know what to say. It’s incredible…Thank you,” you take it out of the box, profoundly grateful you decided not to wear a necklace tonight. “Could you help me put it on?”

“Of course, Angel,” he agrees. But this time when he says your nickname, it’s different. Like an unholy vow made only to you. 

Makes you wonder what he promised.

Regretfully removing yourself from his lap, you turn around, only to be dragged back down by strong fingers. 

Your ass is now flush against his dick, and it’s taking everything in you not to tease. Whether you’d be teasing him or yourself, you don't know, nor do you care. All you know is that friction can be a good thing if you want it to be. And you're starting to want it to be.

Lifting your hair for him, Yoongi fastens the necklace around your column, and to your complete and utter doom, places a gentle kiss at your nape. The simple contact makes you quietly moan, and you feel a twitch under you. 

Ohhh, this is bad, this is so bad. But you can’t bring yourself to stop him. Not when his hands roam up and down your back, your sides, your hips. Exploring, feeling, learning. You dissolve into the touch, welcoming every whisper of pleasure they bring. 

What is he doing to you?

“Angel,” Yoongi purrs in your ear. 

“Mmm?”

“Would you like to dance?”

Fuck would you ever, but wait— 

“Are you asking me if I’d like to Dance with the Devil?” you muse. 

Yoongi chuckles lowly, understanding the meaning behind your ask.

“Is that something you’d be interested in?” 

“Yes.”

You feel more than hear the dark rumble coming from his chest before he gently taps on your thigh. And you get up quickly. 

“That’s a good girl,” he says, and fuck could you ever get used to him saying that to you.

Fingers laced in his, he lets you guide him to the dance floor.

Both of you ignore what the DJ plays, instead moving to the rhythm you feel like. Slow, sensual, a hand on his neck while you grind into him. Fast and heated, bodies touching any and every place you can get contact. You’re putting on quite the show for anyone brave enough to watch. And you know at least a handful of the eyes you feel on you are your friends’. 

They don’t know about Yoongi.

They don’t know about the nature of the clientele at your job either, like every other human. They don’t know you're dancing with the most dangerous and volatile man in the room. And it’s better that way, because if they did, your ass would’ve been hauled out of the club and in a rideshare the second anyone saw him. 

You’ve never been more thankful for the figurative wall between worlds. And the fact that you stand on both sides. 

You brush up against his hardening dick and fuck, that’s it. 

You’ve decided. 

To hell with your reasons. To hell with the constant flirting and overuse of will power. 

To hell with letting your anxieties and your moral compass and your conscience get in the way of the one thing you’ve been denying yourself for years. 

You spin in Yoongi’s hold, looking straight into the darkened eyes of the most forbidden man you could ever want for yourself, only to see pure desire staring right back. It’s all you need before you’re crashing your lips to his, taking anything and everything you can get before one of you comes to your senses and pulls back. 

But his grip on you tightens like a vice, pulling you closer, bodies flush amidst the dancing crowd. He’s magnetic in his want, lifting a hand to the back of your neck and tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue.

You let him in without hesitation and he nearly swallows you whole with how he invades your mouth, claiming it for himself. It makes you moan and he lets up, if only to let you breathe for a moment, and you take this reprieve to whisper in his ear, finally giving in to what you crave more than anything.

“Let’s go to yours.”

“We should go to yours, Angel, mine’s a bit harder to get to.”

Because his is on another plane of existence. Not exactly a taxi ride away. At least not one you can get at the curb of the club. 

“Riiight.” A small dose of water washes over the fire in your core, and it’s like he can sense it because immediately, he’s pulling you back in. Nothing but teeth and lips and tongue, animalistic in the passion you’re displaying for everyone to see, the flames increasing tenfold.

Fuck, you don’t want to wait. 

And apparently neither does Yoongi. 

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

“Yes, but what does tha–”

“Close your eyes for me, Love.”

Any and all arguments fade on your tongue at the new pet name. So much warmer than Angel, so much more affectionate. 

So you close your eyes for him, no questions asked. Because you trust him. You trust the Devil. 

You trust Yoongi. 

“That's a good girl.” 

One hand goes to the back of your neck, the other your lower back as he kisses you gently. So gently you think it means something more, but the sounds of the club are fading away, and he’s leaning you down like he’s going to dip you before your back meets something soft. 

Are you closer to a booth than you thought? Is he really going to take you here in front of all those people? 

But when you open your eyes and your bedroom at your apartment fills your vision, you stiffen immediately.

What?

“I—but we were just—and now we’re he—and you—,” you stutter, amazed and unable to get the thoughts out fast enough before another takes its place. You manage a, “How?” and he catches on. 

Not halting his actions, “Consider it a job perk,” he explains, nipping at your neck. You let out a groan as he continues his way down your column towards your chest and you relax into his touch.

“Teleportation, in simple terms, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

Despite his mouth on your skin, you somehow find the clearness of mind to ask, “Did anyone see?” Thinking about your friends and the potential hundreds of onlookers.

Yoongi’s hands rest at top of the zipper that goes the entire length of your dress, allowing for both easy putting on and quick removal. Fingers tug gently on the slider, eyes meeting yours for consent. You nod, and he answers your question as he drags it down your body torturously slow, savouring every moment he’s worked so hard to get. 

He’s going to earn this privilege you’ve given him, if it's the last thing he does.

“No. And your friends won’t worry either.”

You don’t care how he knows that, not when he’s pulling off hot leather and devouring your curves with coal burning pupils. The cool air of your room causes goosebumps to rise everywhere, and your arms fly to your head, covering your eyes as you’re reminded you’d forgone a bra tonight. 

There was no room for one without it squishing your tits too much and ruining the look. So with your dress gone, Yoongi has a front row seat to your nearly nude form, a blood red lace thong the only thing keeping you semi-decent. 

Years of pining and denial have led up to this moment and Yoongi almost doesn’t know where to start now that he finally has you exactly where he wants you. That feeling doesn’t last long though.

Wasting no more time, he takes a breast into his palm, squeezing and massaging while he lowers himself to the other, lapping the nipple of the one neglected. His tongue swirls over the pert bud, sucking it into his mouth fully and you arch into his touch, reveling in the warmth he spreads across your chest. Hands reaching for the sheets above your head for something to ground you.

“Shit,” you can already feel your pulse in your ears, thundering behind your sternum, and booming lower. He’s barely touched you and you’re already so gone.

He switches his hand and mouth, soothing the other breast with the sinful muscle he’s teased you with after all these years drinking whiskey. And by god if you don’t immediately think what it could do in other places. He’s had thousands of years to practice and the gush you feel in your panties lets you know exactly how you feel about the idea. 

Using his free hand, Yoongi traces down your back, rounding your ass and squeezing hard enough to make you hiss in pleasure before settling on the back of your thigh. 

You can barely stand having his hands so close to your molten heat without having any contact, and it leaves you begging, “Please…Please…”

You feel the curve of his lip quirk as teeth gently scrape the sensitive bud, gasping when he pulls off. 

“Please what, Love?”

“More,” you pant. “Please. Anything. Everything. Please just touch me.”

“Mmm,” he’s back at your neck, inhaling your scent, one hand still on your thigh while the other holds him up by your ear. “Pretty Girl has manners after all, huh?” 

“Oh fuck you.” you bristle, but it seems to be the reaction he’s looking for. A deeper, sluttier part of you awakening at the words you want to prove both wrong and right.

“There she is.”

Diving back into your neck, Yoongi trails wet, open mouthed kisses down, down, down. And even though you’ve never been so wet, so in the moment, and so unbelievably turned on before, the human part of you wins for a second, as you try to close your legs. 

They’re pulled back open in an instant, his eyes never wavering from yours as he says, “Don’t you dare get shy on me now,” a kiss to your inner thigh. And then the other as he kneels before you. 

Yoongi places each foot on either of his shoulders and you’re surprised he’s kept on your garter, stockings and red bottoms, their heels digging into his flesh. You wonder if that hurts at all, but by the way his eyes flutter and almost roll into the back of his head at the pressure they place on his frame, you think he actually likes their sting.

“You’re the most exquisite creature I have ever seen. Absolutely no part of you could ever be undesirable to me.” 

His earnest tone makes you believe him, convinces you, and you’re once again pliant in his hold, opening up for him.

“Look at me,” he says, and you do. You stare directly at the Devil between your thighs. The King knelt before your lowly mortal form. “You are the most powerful person in this room, understand?”

You nod, but that’s not good enough for him. 

“I need to hear it.”

“I understand.”

“Understand what?” He pushes.

“I’m the most powerful person in this room,” and it feels bold to say in front of him. But watching the way Yoongi’s expression fills with pride makes it also feel good. He wants you to feel like you’re the one in charge. 

“Remember that,” he says, before ripping your underwear off and throwing them on the floor, feasting his now wholly black eyes on the sight of your dripping pussy.

The more he loses himself in you, the more of his true form reveals itself.

“Fuuuckk,” he whispers more to himself than anything. “So wet…”

Your core is tormented and throbbing at the back and forth between the cold night air and Yoongi’s hot breath and you whine, “I just bought those!”

He spares you one completely unsympathetic look. 

“Don’t care. I’ll buy you more,” a deliciously ringed finger slides along your drenched folds and you’re gasping. “I’ll buy you the entire fucking store if it means I get to see you like this.”

Your voice is airy as you give in, any and all outrage gone. “Oka—ohhh!”

His mouth is on your cunt before you can breathe in the oxygen you so desperately need. He’s not holding back and your movements are not your own as you squirm. An arm rounds your pelvis holds you down, keeping you there as he devours you whole and shows you no mercy.

“Fuck, fuck, oh my god Yoongi,” you cry out, having never felt anything like this before. His tongue circles your clit as he sucks, then glides down, penetrating your opening with thrusts that make you lightheaded. 

Your hands fly to his locks, pulling and pushing him down further until you're pretty sure you’re drowning him in you. Your fingertips graze his horns and it’s just a reminder that this man is definitely not human. Definitely not someone you should be letting suck your soul out through your pussy. And that makes this whole situation that much hotter. 

If he minds where you touch, he doesn’t say anything about it, only groaning as he repeats his motions to get you near your peak, again and again and again until you're quaking against your will and your body is vibrating with every throb from your core.

Every single nerve ending you have is awake and being put to good use, he’s making sure of it. The dam that holds your release is starting to crumble and you don’t know how much longer you can last like this before you’re screaming bloody murder under his grip. 

“Yoon…Yoongi—fuck,” you stutter, staggered breaths from your trembling chest loose as you try to verbalize, “C-close. S-so close.”

He hums, and teases a finger around your entrance, circling a few times before pressing in and up to your g-spot. The simple action undoes you and you're coming with a force you can’t even begin to describe. The waves crash down, over and over and you're moaning and cursing his name at the same time, knowing it’s going to be the only one you’ll think of in this situation from now until forever.

He guides you through the last shockwaves as you come down, and when you’re too sensitive for him to continue, you drag him up to your lips, tasting his efforts on your tongue. 

“Need you now,” you rush out between kisses.

“Not yet, Love,” he says, pulling back just enough to reach a hand between the two of you.

He slips two fingers inside and swallows the resulting moan from your lips as he goes so deep enough you can feel his rings proding your opening.

“Gotta stretch you out for me first.” 

Your hands are back in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck as he begins to scissor you open expertly. He growls into your neck at the sensation and that confirms your suspicions of him liking a little pain with his pleasure. So you scratch further down his neck, onto his shoulders and back and you dig a heel into his thigh.

“Fuck, Angel,” fingers stuttering for a second. “Don’t do that unless you want me to come right now.”

“And if I do?” 

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because the first time I come, it’ll be with you around my cock, soaking the sheets with your own.”

Head rolling back, his words going straight to your clit. “Fuck, okay.”

“Now give me another one, Pretty Girl,” he says, picking up speed with his digits. “I know you can, pretty little slut takes my fingers so well.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

You can feel it coming this time, building and building. He uses his thumb to rub over your sensitive nub and it has you unraveling under him, screaming out and almost sobbing at the convulsions your body makes. He takes your mouth with his again, consuming your pleasure in every form he can get. 

And once you come down, you’ve had it. If you don’t have him inside you within the next 2 minutes you’re going to lose it. 

Ripping at his shirt, you're fumbling with the buttons. “Fuck, take this off, and those,” you say, abandoning his shirt for his belt. 

Yoongi chuckles, low and sinful, “Bossy,” but gets up, and begins removing the outfit that got you into this situation in the first place. You take off the remnants of your costume as he spares you no peace of mind, the way you did him, taking off his pants and boxers in one go, freeing his mouth watering bulge from its earthy confines. 

“Oh fuck me,” you say at his size. He’s big, girthy and you’ve never wanted someone inside you so badly before. 

Yoongi smirks as he crawls over you, but you stop him with a hand. “Wait,” you throw a leg over his hip, and flip the two of you so you’re on top. “Let me do this.”

“Whatever you want, Angel.”

Picking up his cock, it sits heavy in your hand as you give him a couple strokes. He hisses at the contact and it only spurs you on, gathering as much saliva as you can, you open your mouth to spit, rubbing it all over his shaft and head, mixing it with the precum dribbling out of the tip. 

“Fuck—”

Your 2 minutes are up. Lifting your ass, you guide yourself onto him. 

“Oh my fuck, oh fuck,” you say as you slide down slowly, the stretch still very much there as he bottoms out. “Big—ohh, shit—so big.”

Yoongi’s not faring much better, eyebrows pressed together, but eyes devouring the spot where your bodies meet. His breathing is so laboured you’d think he just ran a marathon.

“So tight, Love...Fuck, look at you.”

The delicious sting subsides and you start to move, slow but purposeful thrusts that have him kissing your cervix every time. Fuck he’s so deep, deeper than anyone else has ever been. And once you get a rhythm going there’s no stopping you. You become a force of nature as you bounce on his cock without abandon, taking this for yourself. You don’t know why, but you feel like you have a point to prove and by god you’re going to make it. 

Because if the Devil chose you, you’re going to make damn sure he doesn’t regret it. 

“Fuck, fuck you’re doing so good,” he rasps, throwing his head back into the pillows, eyes shut in pure bliss, murmuring. “Feels so good.” 

His praise pushes you farther, riding harder, grinding your clit against his pelvis, owning both your pleasures. 

You’re the most powerful person here. 

You are the one in control despite being on top of arguably the most powerful man on the planet. It makes you feel safe and strong and invincible. 

And you want to continue, you really do, but your legs are starting to give, so you let him know. 

“Ass up for me then,” he says, and you listen, climbing off of him and wincing at the feeling of him slipping out. He gets behind you, lining himself up again and this time it’s much easier as he sinks in, both of you groaning at the contact. 

Yoongi hands go to your hips, gripping and squeezing and molding the globes of your ass as you anchor your cheek to the bedsheets. 

“That’s it, Pretty Girl, all the way down for me.”

His first thrust has you seeing stars. You're nothing and everything as he continues, but you need more. You need to not be able to speak. To walk. You need to have every thought fucked out of your head. You need him so deep you’ll feel it for a week afterwards.

“Faster,” you beg. “Harder, please.”

“There are those manners I was looking for,” he says and picks up his pace. 

You’re incoherent, saying things you’ve never dared to utter out loud before, making admissions you swore to take to your grave and Yoongi is eating up every single last one of them. 

Because this is about you. This is about proving years of your denial’s fruitless. This is about him and how you make him lose every ounce of self control he has when he’s around you and how badly he’s wanted you since the day you met. This is about ruining every other man for you, making sure you know what true pleasure feels like, know how you deserve to be treated, and hearing his name on your lips when you come. When your cunt clenches so hard he has to fight tooth and nail to milk every ounce of bliss from it.

This is about him wanting to hear him make you feel good. Needing to hear him make you feel good.

This is about you. 

And he can feel you starting to clamp up again, can feel you getting close. So he wraps an arm around your waist, fingers going straight for your pussy.

You shriek, body consumed by the even strokes he delivers as well as the smooth circles around your most sensitive spot, and he revels in it. This is what he’s been dreaming of, what he’s desired over everything else. 

You, underneath him in so much pleasure you’re almost non-verbal. 

Perfect in every single way. 

“Taking me so well, dirty girl. Love the feeling of my cock splitting you open?” he hears a muffled cry and you nod your head. “Knew you would, knew you could take me.”

He delivers a smack to your ass and he feels you clench, so he soothes the battered area before handing out another, soothing that one out too. 

“You’re so good for me, pretty little whore so greedy, sucking me in. Why’d you make me think you didn’t want me all these years, hmm? Was I not good enough for you?”

You bury your face in your sheets. Well that certainly won’t do. So he slows his fingers as he reiterates. “Was I not good enough for you then, Angel? Am I good enough for you now?”

“Yes,” you mutter, barely loud enough to hear.

“What was that?” he slows again to a near burningly slow pace, soaking in the feel of you around his fingers and dick. It feels like a place he once called home.

“Yes!” you bellow. “So good…so good to me…more than enough.”

The praise fuels him, and he picks up the speed of everything, cock pounding you into the mattress, fingers rubbing an achingly mind-blowing pattern on your clit. It pushes you over the edge for the third time tonight, your fluttering cunt around his dick almost has him losing it. Almost has him coming undone with you, but he manages to hold it back. 

Not yet. 

You're silent in your screams this time, overwhelmed with the feelings, fingers nearly ripping your sheets in half at how hard it hit you. How hard you contract around him.

Oh he’s never going to get sick of this feeling. 

Ever.  

And instead of guiding you down this time, he removes himself quickly, flips you over on your back and inserts himself once more. 

He needs that feeling again. Needs you again. You claimed him for yourself whether you knew it or not all those years ago, he was simply following orders. He was yours the second your eyes met for the first time and he’s never looked back since. No one was ever good enough from that moment on, not a single creature on any plane of existence. 

There was only you. 

Yoongi’s never felt anything so pure and so sinful and so right as you pulsing around him does. He exists only for this feeling. Only for you. It took a couple thousand years, but at least now he knows. 

And so he doesn’t slow down, pushing you through your oversensitivity.

It’s time for him to finally claim you back.

“I can’t,” you beg, “it hurts.”

“Not for long, Pretty Girl” he says in his lowest registar. “You can take it, I know you can. Give me one more, I know you have it in you.”

Yoongi’s noticed his words have almost the same effect on you as his motions, so he uses them to their full potential. And as he can sense your fourth orgasm about to land, you surprise him by whispering directly into his ear and raking your nails down his back as hard as you can.

“Only for you, Yoongi.”

His thrusts stutter.

“Fuck!”

He’s coming. 

He’s coming hard. With you, with your name on his lips. It's violent and visceral and vicious and vibrant. It’s beautiful. You’re combined divine deliverance. 

It’s the first time he’s said your name.

And it’s something he’s going to keep locked away in his memory for millenia to come as he covers your inner walls in the most sickeningly sweet shade of white. 

You’re relentless, milking him over and over and over for all he’s worth, not letting up until your body is ready too, ruthless in your quest for ultimate euphoria and he takes it.

Whatever you want. Whatever you need. 

It’s yours. 

He’ll make it so.

At whatever cost to him, you'll get it. There isn't a doubt in his mind as you finally come down, body lighter, eyes glazed over, devastating smile on your lips.

He’s the first to move, going to the bathroom and grabbing a warm, wet cloth to clean you up. You’re blissfully spent, unable to get up even if you wanted to, limbs like jelly, still in a brain fogged haze. 

You got exactly what you wanted.

He cleans his release from your form, naked save for the pink stone he gave you around your neck. Then tosses the cloth in your hamper and lies back down, covering you both with sheets. You cuddle up to him, tossing a leg around his torso, and lying your head on his chest. Contented. 

And he’s silent until he can’t stand it any longer. He has to know.

“What changed?” 

“Hmm?”

“What about tonight made you change your mind?”

You take a deep breath through your nose. “I…stopped fighting it. The feeling like we would never work, the feeling that I would never be good enough, that we were too different,” he listens intently as your fingers trace patterns on his chest, explaining. “And I was sick of denying myself. It’s my birthday. Shouldn't I get whatever I want on my birthday?” 

That seductive smirk makes an appearance.

“Yes.”

“Plus you looked to damn fine in that outfit. A girl only has so much willpower, you know? It’s easier at work when there’s a bar and my job between us, but there was none of that tonight. Just the shots in my system and my unwavering desire to ride your face.”

Yoongi laughs, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen something as beautiful as his smile before. 

“Next time,” he says. A promise.

You fall back into a comfortable silence that has you thinking. 

“What about you?” you ask.

“What about me?”

“Why am I the only one you like? The only one you put up with.”

He ponders for a moment, thinking about how to phrase what he wants to say. 

“I think about the time we met often. There was something about you that was different that day, and I’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly what, but when I saw you I knew I would never think of you the same way I do everyone else. There was something special about your gaze in mine, your company, your soul.” 

“My soul?”

“Mhm.”

“You’ve never asked for mine before.”

“Never needed it.”

At that, you joke, “Is there something you’d sell your soul for?”

“You.” 

Before you can say all the nothing in your head at his answer, he takes a deep breath that has you rising and falling with it. Something about what he’s going to say next is going to have heavy importance to him. 

You just know it. 

“You… made me—make me…want to be better. Do better.”

You’re speechless. Not the kind you were moments before. No, you’re truly and genuinely speechless. 

You never expected anything like that. 

You knew your presence in his life carried a different weight than others, a different air. It’s why you could speak so casually, insult him, and exist near him without fearing for your life. It was something no one had seen from him in thousands of years. 

Kindness. Patience.

The man who’s job it is to run the universes torture capital, punishing those who deserve it without an ounce of mercy for eternity and killing those who looked at him the wrong way. The physical entity of the word evil, wanted to be better. 

Because of you.  

“I don't know what to say.”

“You don't need to say anything,” he kisses the top of your head, tender. “Having you with me is more than enough.”

You can do that. 

“Okay,” you say, craning your neck to kiss him. It’s long, languid, and full of emotions you don't want to acknowledge right now, there’s too many of them to sort through in your post four orgasms brain to be able to process properly. 

Tomorrow you can start. Right now you just want to bask in the afterglow of the most amazing birthday you've ever had.

“So this wasn’t a one time thing?” Yoongi clarifies.

“It definitely wasn't a one time thing,” not a chance in Hell. 

He was yours now. 

The Devil was yours.

King of the Underworld, god among men, catastrophe breathing evil was yours. And it brings the biggest smile to your face.  

“Oh thank fuck.”

“Not thank God?” you tease.

Yoongi groans. “Do not bring my father into this.”

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

[thebibliosphere]

Hi there, ive come from your post about ADHD and emotional disregulation, firstly thank you so much for putting it into words, its such a complicated part of how i deal with emotions and i havent ever been able to articulate how to why.

Secondly, in that post you mentioned how you've used stress as a motivator and how eventually your stress regualtion broke, i was wondering if you'd be willing to talk about that? (If not, its not a problem)

I feel like the same thing has happened to me but until i read your post i had no idea that something had... snapped? I suppose? I struggle with motivation all the time and in the past id have a week or a few days left and id be able to suddently push myself very hard to complete whatever it is before the deadline, just barely making it in most cases. However now it seems that i can't find that motivation anymore, deadlines come and pass and i can't being myself to work on anything, and i just end up spiralling into shame and guilt. That motivation was the only thing that I was able to rely on sometimes for things like uni, and i conviced myself that it was just me growing lazy or trying to get out of responsibility as to why the "last minute panic-mode" doesnt work anymore.

Again, if you don't wanna tackle this can of worms or if it's something youd rather not post online i totally get it, its no biggie! thanks so much for making the original post as well, it means a lot

Hello friend, thanks for the message. I'm sorry you're also dealing with this.

The good news here is that I've already talked about this using the rubber band analogy my therapist gave me. (Stress is like a Rubber Band)

If you don't have the mental bandwidth to read all of it now, the tl;dr is "stress is like a rubber band; it can stretch to hold numerous things in place when you need to, but if you do it too often or keep adding more and more strain under the band, the elastic eventually becomes brittle and snaps, taking your mental and sometimes physical health with it too."

I've been in intensive therapy for this for roughly three years now, and trying to piece my brain back together after my last bout of stress-induced productivity gave me a total mental breakdown.

It's... odd not being able to use stress and having to actively avoid it to avoid a relapse. But it is doable. Medication would help, but alas, I've got weird health issues and am unmedicated at the minute.

(And just in case that sparks anyone to go, "Oh, you do all this unmedicated! Wow, that's so inspiring!" as sometimes parents do to me on here as they then tell me they don't want to medicate their kids, I've unfortunately also written a post about what that kind of success looks like from an unmedicated perspective and the kind of suicidal ideation I deal with on the regular because I cannot take meds. It is not pleasant reading, but it is necessary for some folks, specifically anti-med, "if you just tried harder" people.)

A book you may find helpful is Burnout: The Secret to Unlocking the Stress Cycle, by Emily and Amelia Nagoski. It was very validating for me to read about other people going through the same things, and made me feel less of a "this is a personal failing on my part" and more of a "Oh okay yeah, no stress literally breaks people."

It helped soothe some of my own internalized "I just need to try harder" and helped cement me on the path I was already going down with my ADHD therapist toward changing how I view myself and how I manage my ADHD.

I hope that helps! If you've got more specific questions or I didn't touch on something in my old post, I can try to answer them :)

[prince-liest]

I know you’ve gotten asks already talking about how happy they are that you’re going more in depth on the subject of Vox being trans in your next installment, but I can’t help myself… I’m so excited that you’re writing about that. It can be difficult to find trans rep in fandom spaces sometimes and your stories are so well written that this is like a gift from god. SO ANYWAY I’m super happy and your works are amazing and I just hope you know how many people value your works for all that they give.

Secondly, I was wondering whether or not Vox would have been trans on earth or just in hell? I mean I’m sure it would be difficult considering the time period but I also couldn’t think of a reason why he would be cis on earth but trans in hell. UNLESS he realized he was trans in hell/was finally able to do something about it?? Anyway, all of this is just speculation, I am only curious!!

Regardless, great work. It genuinely means a lot to me, if no one else :)

Oh, man, I'm ngl, one of my little, "Wait! I can do anything I want!!!!" moments of going mad with power once I got more and more experience at writing was realizing that I could just trans anyone's gender at-will and I didn't need anyone's permission for that. I still remember the first time I quietly decided an OC of mine was trans (love you, Laledy, you obnoxious asshole). I'm always a little apprehensive to start writing trans characters in new fandoms, mostly because I've been in a number of fandoms that have corners that get very tetchy about their weird gender role stuff, but it's consistently been met with such a positive reaction that it really brings me joy. So thank you so very, very much!!

My personal take on Vox in 666 specifically (a lot of which isn't going to come up because he does not want to get into it) is that he wasn't personally really in a position or environment conducive to considering trans-ness as, like, a thing that happens when he was alive, and he put his all into putting on The Correct Gender Performance with the vim and aplomb that we see from him in canon, plus all the underlying bullshit that goes into maintaining that facade. So, y'know. The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, minus the Jewish. Which did not do amazing things for his mental health, not that he let himself pay attention to that at the time!

And then he wakes up, in hell, with this weird-ass demon body with a television for a head, and - well, it just makes sense to present as a man at that point, doesn't it? Hell is dog-eat-dog, and he's not going to pick the submissive gender to put himself on the back foot from the start!

He figures out what the fuck being trans even is eventually, just. Not for a while, and not until after someone like Valentino, having known and assumed that Vox is trans as a given for fucking months, mentions it offhandedly to Vox, who had been mentally describing himself as "just lying about his sex like those girls in stories that get shit done by dressing up as men". Then he gets to have his own little spiral about it, and also why it's upsetting him, and why he felt so vulnerable about Valentino knowing, and why Valentino specifically, Mr. Fishnets, Heels, and Microminis, is the one that ended up in a position not only to know this about Vox but for Vox to feel comfortable having any kind of sex with. It wasn't something Vox had to analyze back when it was just "her" freaky boyfriend being into pegging!

Okay, fuck, I have even more feelings about trans Vox than I thought I did, hahahaha.

Might fuck around and write a staticmoth-centric prequel interlude at some point if I have the brain cells for it. Vox is a lot more confident and comfortable with his gender now, to the point where he can absolutely see fucking around in a dress for kinky reasons as crossdressing and not being forced back into a box that doesn't fit, but it'd be neat to explore the earlier days. Val isn't here for gender, he's here to be sexy, but Vox... this IS the origin of the daddy kink, just saying.

[ballgame]

I made it long enough ago that I won't bother myself with finding it, but I remember making a post about how I was amused by how, during a Twitch stream, when giving an example of how some people over-scrutinize certain aspects of Undertale, Toby mentioned people looking for smiley faces in things. I found this ironic since smiles are actually a pretty important motif in Undertale, all things considered.

At the time, I was frustrated that I couldn't find a clip of this or the stream itself, but now I have! And I've taken the liberty of transcribing this conversation to the best of my ability.

(For context, Toph is one of the hosts of the stream)

Toph: How does that make you feel, when people ascribe their own sort of meanings? Does that make you happy, or does that make you feel a little weird? Like, "Oh wow, people are twisting what I intended." Toby: It's strange when people read something into it that's not good. I don't even wanna say usually people find something that I didn't intend, because there's so much in this game. Basically, a lot of the time it's like- Obviously there are times where people ascribe things to me that that I didn't intend, like they go really far. But I feel like, when they do that, it's kind of what I wanted, to some extent. I wanted to create something that was so "Undertale" that people wouldn't know what was intended and what wasn't and they could just keep looking deeper and keep thinking "Woah, this keeps going, forever?!" So, I guess to some level, to some extent, that sort of thing is validating. It's only bad when they read into it and they get something weird out of it, I guess. Toph: Okay, any specific examples of getting something weird out of it that are not spoiler-y? Maybe not, maybe that answer is just no. Toby: I don't know, there's people that try and find every secret in the game, so they put random things into spectograms or something. So they take a random audio file from the game and they put into a spectogram and it's like- "Look at this guys! It looks like a smiley face! There's a message here!" Or something. Literally every file that you put in there is going to have a smiley face in it, if it's just random static noise. Toph: Right, right, right! If you look deep enough, yeah. I get that's cool, that people are, y'know, willing to look that deep. Toby: Yeah and some of them still believe it. It's like, woah. What that says is that I've made something where people are willing to believe that I would do that on purpose. So, it feels like a credit to me mostly. Toph: That's really funny- I'm just reminded of Hideaki Anno, the creator of Evangelion. And y'know, people have just written articles, upon articles, upon articles, upon essays of all these religous symbols from that game. And he famously was just like, "Y'know what? Honestly, I just think Christian religous symbols just look cool. But hey, if you guys are into that, whatever. Keep theorizing." But that's fine, I guess I'm part of the experience too. Because if you're- You can go into something and if you can find meaning out of it and have it enrich your life, hey that's cool. We take those. Toby: Yeah and I'm not gonna say that there aren't a ludicrous amount of things in this game that were not intended. Because there are a ludicrous amount of things in this game that are intended. Again, who knows where it begins or ends.

Twitch Link: [X]

[mephinomaly]

[TL] Backdoor - an Original Scenario written by Akira

Backdoor is a short original story written by Akira-sensei to accompany the release of the Crossroad animated series. I recommend watching it before reading this, especially if you haven't read the original Crossroads.

Please enjoy my translation below!

—

Backdoor

I break in from the backdoor. I feel like a super cool outlaw from one of those movies. Avoid the countless traps, blindly shoot the enemies like bang bang bang! Feast your eyes, idiots of the world!

I am the great Oogami Koga…!

"..."

By the back door is a guy with blond hair who’s sorting the trash out, probably works here part time. Since I came in and started acting like a weird middle schooler, he looks at me, surprised.

“Hey, you–” Part-time-kun (tentative name) puts his hand out with a totally bored expression. “One thousand yen. It’s the entrance fee.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.”

“Next time come in from the proper entrance, ‘kay?” Part-time-kun (tentative name) doesn’t lecture me any further and exchanges my 1000 yen bill for a sleek plastic card.  If I show this at the bar, I can get a drink and stuff. I thank him. “Enjoy your night～♪”

Part-time-kun (tentative name) is side-eyeing me, and at this point in time I’m so embarrassed all I want to do is go home but I pull myself together and head inside. 

I’m in a cheap underground livehouse in the downtown area, near Yumenosaki Private Academy, the school I’m going to attend. 

My sanctuary is here.

My god is here.

***

The livehouse I've been hanging around in lately is built a little weird. The entrance to the stairs is in a back alley. At the bottom of the stairs, there’s two corridors, one leading left, the other right. There’s a lot of soundproof doors, standing one after another. The majority of these small rooms are booths, meant to be hired out by amateur bands to practise in. If you look through the window of one, it’s normally empty since nobody really uses them.

Well, these days people don’t practise by actually picking up an instrument, playin’ until their fingers hurt.  I’ve been doin’ that too lately, sittin’ at home ‘n staring blankly at my computer screen. I dunno. 

At the end of the empty corridor, there’s the employees only room, the kitchen, and the back entrance which I found by accident when I was trespassing. 

I’ve been short on cash lately because I’ve been buyin’ like, introductory books to playin’ the guitar ‘n stuff so I’ve been sneakin’ in that way ‘cos then I don’t hafta pay the entrance fee. No-one’s ever around anyway. 

“I won’t be able to come in that way next time,” I complain as I walk down the corridor in low spirits, stopping when I find the soundproof room I’m looking for. 

The biggest, most extravagant door is in the middle of the corridor. At the back, at the heart of this place— is the livehouse, or I guess you could call it a music hall. 

“♪～♪～♪”

I open the weighted door and my entire body is blasted by music. 

This is it. This electrifying feeling.  

At the back of this relatively wide space is a really nice stage, and that’s where bands that have signed up to perform do so. The entrance fee also covers one drink, but you can order more food and drink and enjoy the show at the same time. It’s your average livehouse. I dunno though. I’m underaged, so I stick to a non-alcoholic tomato juice whilst enjoying the show.

Since this place is close to Yumenosaki, a lot of the customers are scruffy-looking students. I never thought young me would come to a place like this. I’m just in ordinary clothes. This place pays attention to its customer base, so there's not a drop of alcohol or a single cloud of cigarette smoke to be seen. Only super cool music is playing. It’s echoing. 

“～...♪”

My God is in the middle of the stage, singing enthusiastically. The lyrics are in English, and I understand almost none of them. The lyrics are probably about wishing for world peace, or religious sacrilege; something complicated but meaningful. When I asked what he was singing about later, he said something like “I’m so happy because my cute little brother has recovered from his cold!”

Is he stupid? Or am I the stupid one for being so entranced by him?

But. I didn’t know that sort of thing back then, so I was genuinely moved by him.

Illuminated by the dim stage lighting, his pale corpse-like skin stood out in the shadows— him.

Crimson eyes like hellfire. 

Black hair that melts into the darkness.

From between his seductive lips that are sexier than any girls’, comes a masculine, deep voice. 

He looked simultaneously like an angel that could rescue the world and a devil that could destroy it too. Whether angel or devil, his singing voice was powerful enough to completely change the very fabric of this world.

“～...♪”

The name of the person I respect the most in this world is Sakuma Rei. 

My God.

***

I was born and raised in an unremarkable environment. 

We’re middle class. My dad’s an office worker and he earns a pretty decent wage, and my mum’s a housewife, which is rare nowadays. 

They bought a nice detached house in a nice place. Both of my parents like kids and like taking care of others, so I grew up pretty pampered. I’m aware that since I was spoiled, I grew up to be a selfish, cocky brat. I was given whatever I wanted. I didn’t know what I really wanted though since it would be handed to me before I could even think about it. When I got to an age where I didn’t need to be looked after, my parents got a dog to satisfy their overflowing need to help others (?). His name’s Leon. He’s the best dog ever. 

I fussed over him too, but not in the way my parents did. Everyday, they’d treat him like he was a baby, doting on him, probably the same way they treated me. It made me sulk a bit. 

I could tell that my parents’ interest had shifted from me to Leon. Leon isn’t bad. He was bought to be loved. He’s a pedigree, he was born for this, to be doted on. He’s a really good boy and whenever I felt sad he’d snuggle up close to me and put his face next to mine. So I wouldn’t be lonely. So I knew I wasn’t alone. 

But I felt that the amount of love I had received up until this point was steadily decreasing, and it made me anxious. 

—Alas! Miserable, spoiled Oogami Koga-kun!

But I wasn’t shameless enough of a person to say “pay attention to me instead of the dog!” Leon deserved to be loved as much as I did— I wandered around town, searching for someone other than my parents who could love me.

I was starved, yearning. I looked like a stray dog scavenging around for something to fill me up. My parents aren’t bad. Neither is Leon. I’m probably not bad either. 

I’ve already finished compulsory education. I had reached the age where I could fend for myself. So I should have. I’m sure other people are doing that. We leave the watchful eye of our parents, tackle teenagehood, and find out who we are. Find what we want to do with our lives. After countless trial and error, I found what I was looking for— Sakuma Rei. His music satisfied what my soul had been craving. 

***

The performance ends, and Sakuma Rei disappears behind the stage. 

I’ve never been on stage before, so I don’t know what it looks like back there. There’s probably a passageway that leads to a green room or something. The livehouse is weirdly dark and it’s hard to see much of anything, so it really looks like Sakuma Rei vanished like a ghost. 

The person who fills the gap in my heart, vanishes. 

So I grow anxious again and begin blindly searching for him everywhere. I make my way through the livehouse, pushing through the swathes of people who came here to see Sakuma Rei.

—Sakuma Rei, Sakuma Rei, Sakuma Rei.

My soul wants him. 

Of course, I’m not part of his family. We’re not even acquaintances, let alone friends. He’s probably never even heard of me. But I didn’t mind either way. I found him, met him, fell in love with him, and had my yearning quenched. That alone made me thankful. Sakuma Rei, without a doubt, saved me. That’s all I wanted. I was just a sheep, one of hundreds who came here. To me, he was the night sky, something I thought I could never reach. I didn’t mind just watching from afar. That’s how I really feel. If I never got to see him closeup, I’d be fine with that.

And yet. 

“What you’re drinking looks good.”

Suddenly, the tomato juice I’d ordered, which I didn’t end up liking because it was weirdly sweet, is taken from my hand by someone next to me. 

—The hell, bastard? That’s mine. When I go to look up at whoever grabbed my drink with a belligerent expression, I realise it’s Sakuma Rei. 

“If you’re not drinking it, I’ll have it. Singing’s got me workin' up a sweat.”

Naturally, my body stiffens.

That’s Sakuma Rei.

If I reach out my hand, I could touch him.

I’m so surprised by what I originally thought was something that could never happen, I have nothing clever to say and instead, like an idiot, I freeze with my mouth ajar. 

“What’s up? Oh, you’re at that age where you think indirect kisses are embarrassing, right…?” Sakuma Rei says with a somewhat apologetic expression. Then he says something absurd.

“Oopsies, sorry～…Don’t worry, I take full responsibility for stealing your first time. Mhm.”

That was the first conversation we had, and it’s not exactly something I can brag about to anyone. 

Ever since then, ever since that moment, I’ve been at the mercy of this arrogant person.

***

I step through the backdoor.

The unmotivated-looking blond employee is slacking off on his phone again today– he’s a playboy called Hakaze and is actually the manager of this place. He’s also supposedly one of my senpai from Yumenosaki. He glances up from his phone at me with a gross expression.

“Look look. I just got another girl's number. I’m typing out my first message now.”

“Shut up, I don’t know you. Don’t talk to me, playboy.”

About two years have passed since I had my first conversation with Sakuma Rei, Sakuma Rei-senpai, a conversation I’d rather not remember. 

I’ve got a bit taller and a bit stronger. 

I practised intensely so my guitar and singing skills have somewhat improved. 

Whilst I was growing, Yumenosaki had gone to the dogs.

Yumenosaki Private Academy’s an idol school steeped in a rich history and tradition. But inside, it was rotting. 

I wanted to be like Sakuma-senpai, so I followed him without thinking and took Yumenosaki’s entrance exam like an idiot. I was blinded. I didn’t know anything. Every Yumenosaki student is shit. Naturally, I noticed that since I frequented the livehouse in order to see Sakuma-senpai. 

A rotted miniature garden where those with dead eyes spend their sad youth reeking of corpses. Sakuma-senpai was weirdly energetic despite the backdrop of death, so I got it wrong. No. I think I was just an immature, stupid brat, so I didn’t notice. 

Sakuma-senpai had those same dead eyes. 

In the mountain of dead bodies, he was clinging onto life. He was the only one who didn’t want to die, he was the only one praying for something to happen.

No-one could save him. 

A bespectacled monk boy from a temple came along and evoked anger in him, trying to make him into a human— into something more than human.  The stupid, lost dog just wagged his tail and followed the hand that fed him. 

We didn’t realise that the person that was always grinning like a fool, and living what appeared to be a happy life, was actually suffering more than anyone. He desperately needed help. You can see why we didn’t notice; he looked like he was having fun.

When he stood on stage with me and Shitty Glasses as Deadmanz, he lived each day like it was his last. He looked genuinely happy—he looked like he was alive. But that was only a short-lived dream. Once he steps off stage, the spell breaks, and he turns back into a corpse.

A revolution takes place at the rotted Yumenosaki.

Sakuma-senpai was seen as a cause of evil and exterminated by those who claimed to be on the side of justice. The evil monsters had been defeated, and everyone lived happily ever after. It’s creepy when a corpse moves. Yeah, nothing will change if you don’t exterminate all the gross monsters, right?

—Fuck you, you bastards!

***

“Wan-chan, will you be singing today too?” The bored-looking playboy asks, on his phone as usual. Guess he doesn’t really want to talk to me. “You should stop because you’re dampening the mood. People think you're one of Sakuma-san’s henchmen, so people think you’re evil too and will persecute you like he was.”

“I don’t care. I… I’m.” I growl, the shallow first person pronoun Sakuma-senpai sometimes used slips from my mouth [1]. I cling onto what I’ve got left of him. “I just wanna sing with all my energy. I don’t care what the rest of you do.”

“But you’re creating problems for the livehouse. A customer pokes fun at you or Sakuma-san, you get angry, and you start a fight—I really don’t want things like that happening.”

“I won't create any problems, I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

“Will you really? But you’re like the rest of the customers— You always look like you’re going to start arguing with other Yumenosaki students. You come in from the back entrance like, everytime, to avoid any trouble, right?”

“I still pay the entrance fee.”

“Why do you go out of your way to perform here even though you’ve got to jump over so many dangerous obstacles to get here? It’s super bothersome.” Playboy's grumbling as usual. He pulls out a key and throws it to me. “Here. I’ll give you a key to a room so you can change clothes and get ready. If you swear to not cause any more trouble, you can become our new breadwinner, Wan-chan. I actually want to cheer you on,” the playboy said and laughed insincerely. 

I hate his demeanour, so I snap back. 

“Don’t call me ‘Wan-chan’.”

“Sakuma-san calls you ‘Wanko’. I call you ‘Wan’ as in, ‘number one’. Honest, honest to god.” [2] Playboy’s face goes serious for a split second and he waved his hands around like he was trying to hide his embarrassment. “You can be my number one breadwinner, like Sakuma-san.”

“Don’t hafta tell me twice.”

Just like Sakuma-senpai, I’ll become the best guy in the world. My voice alone will excite the crowd. A flirtatious glance will have women swooning. With a single look, even the strongest of men will bow down to me. In an instant, their souls are gripped, I captivate everyone. I’ll become like Sakuma Rei too. But the journey is a long one. “Let’s go. I’m singin’ tonight.”

I reach my booth, key in hand, and change into my costume. I take out my guitar, who’s as important to me as my parents and Leon are. Once I’m ready, I head to the stage. To tackle this head on.

“Shake, you fools! Imma show you what real music is!”

I sing. My guitar does too.

Just like Sakuma-senpai did.

Right now I’m blindly copying him, but I pray that one day, I’ll be able to be just like him.

I hope this song reaches him, wherever he is. 

***

Once, I was starving, yearning. But when I found Sakuma Rei and his music, my soul was satisfied. 

—Now it’s my turn. 

“Rock ‘n’ roll…!”

Come on, idiots of the world. I’ll open your eyes with my music. I’ll become your God. 

~~~~

Translation notes:

[1]  in the line above this one Koga says ‘俺...俺様は’ or ‘ore…ore sama wa’. Oresama being the first person pronoun rei sometimes used, and its very egotistical.

[2] number one is pronounced as, in this case, ‘nanbaa wan’

[obx-pogue4life]

Donut Dick

Summary: JJ thinks he's funny when he puts a donut on his dick and tells you he's got a snack for you but you turn the tables on him and go from silly to sexy, making him absolutely insane and dying for his release

Warning: Cum play, daddy kink, oral sex, dirty talk, squirting, ball play, kissing, fingering, hand job, food (mentions of eating a donut), begging, taunting, teasing, orgasm denial, boob and nipple play, intense orgasms. I hope I didn’t miss any and if I did, let me know

Author's Note: Hi everyone! So it’s been quite a while since I’ve written and posted anything- I can’t believe it’s been over 6 months! I just wanted to take a minute to say thank you for sticking with me after all this time! Whether you are someone who follows me or just someone who happened to stumble across this post, I appreciate your support and taking the time to read my work very much! I hope you enjoy this weird and sexy story I’ve come up with, it’s basically 5000 words of ridiculously silly filth haha I figured I might as well come back with a bang! GO BIG OR GO HOME, RIGHT??!? 😂❤️

"Hey babe, come here," I hear my boyfriend JJ yell from the kitchen.

Groaning to myself, I put my phone down and yell back, "What is it? I don't wanna get up!" and go back to scrolling on my phone.

About a minute goes by and I hear JJ say again in a weirdly peppy sing song voice, "y/n... I've got something for youuuuu" he drawls out. "Come on babe, I made you a snack" he says again trying to coax me.

I groan again but start to get up because I'm sorta hungry and a snack sounds pretty good right about now. I make my way towards the kitchen and nearly drop my phone when I see the sight that's presented before me. Standing smack dab in the middle of the kitchen is a completely naked JJ, standing there in only his black socks! He's got one leg up on a kitchen chair and his arms proudly on his hips, grinning at me like a lunatic. This man also has a full on erection and has decided to hang a fucking donut from his cock. I'm desperately trying to hold in my giggles but then he starts swiveling his hips in a circle and puts his hands behind his head and gives little thrusts and I just lose my cool completely and can't stop laughing at him.

"Like what you see babe," JJ says in a fake sexy accent, adding to my laughter.

"Oh yeah baby, dance for me you sexy hunk of man," I manage to get out while he try's to spin the donut on his cock like a circus trick.

I'm laughing so hard at this point, I have tears streaming down my face and I can't breathe. He is so silly sometimes, I just don't know what to do with him.

"Come on take a bite of the snack I made you," he coaxed cheekily. "I want you to pull it off my cock with your teeth."

I roll my eyes and flip him off but he just laughs at me and grins that goofy grin again, still playing with his dick and twirling that damn donut.

I decide to have a little bit of fun of my own and slowly walk over to him, stripping my pants, top and bra off on the way, before immediately dropping to my knees in front of him.

"Oh my god, are you actually going for this? Holy shit! I was just kidding y/n but fuck, yes! Will you really eat a donut off my dick?" He asks, genuinely unsure if I'm really gonna do it.

"Anything for you J," I say in a mock of his sing song voice from earlier. I can hear his breathing hitch and I lean forward ever so slightly and stick my tongue out and gently lick the tip of his still hard cock, making him softly groan out.

"Oh shit" I can hear him mutter a few times as I open my mouth a little more and swirl my tongue around his head and start gently sucking. I decide to keep my hands to myself and while I'm sucking his tip I start to play with my breasts and squeeze my nipples. It feels so good I moan out in my own pleasure, causing his cock to twitch in my mouth. I look up at him through my eyelashes and continue what I'm doing, looking right into his eyes. A few more moans from me and he's nearly there and I've barely touched him yet. I stop abruptly and sit on my heels and wipe the corner of my mouth with my thumb, sticking it in my mouth after and licking off and precum that got on my face.

"Hmmm," I say to him sort of as a question. I really am hungry and lean in to take a bite of that donut that's been staring me in the face. I hold it with my hand so it doesn't crumble and lick some of the frosting off before swallowing and taking another nibble. JJ is looking at me with wide eyes and I can tell that this weird show I'm putting on for him is really turning him on. I take one more nibble and let the donut break apart in my hand and sexily lick the frosting off my wrist purposely leaving the remaining frosting on my fingers. "You want some," I ask him innocently and put my fingers up to his mouth, teasing him. He leans down and licks the chocolate off my fingers and swallows hard, still looking down at me while I'm kneeling before him and wondering what I'm gonna do next. I don't waste any time and put the rest of the donut on the tabletop. "Looks like someone's been playing with their food... such a naughty boy. Guess I'll just have to clean you up..." and I hear him suck in another deep breath in anticipation.

I lean forward again and begin to kitten lick his cock, making sure to tease his tip and the underside of his shaft while I lick up all the remaining frosting and donut bits that are left behind. He lets out a content sigh and I smile into him, temporarily releasing him from my mouth. "Do you like that baby?" I coo to him. "Does my tongue against your cock feel good?" I ask. He nods his head quickly while I look up at him, putting his dick back in my mouth, taking him in completely. "Fuck yes y/n, that feels so good," he moans out and gives me an animalistic growl. "Fucckkkk."

I start bobbing my head and swirling my tongue, letting him go further and further down my throat. I love the way he's grunting and moaning. I love being able to make him lose himself in such a short amount of time. He reaches down and brushes some of the hair out of my eyes that has fallen forward and I pull back to get a breath. "You look so gorgeous with my cock in your mouth," he breathily says to me, instantly making me blush. I look away for a minute and notice he's got some frosting on his balls and an idea plants itself in my head. I quickly lean forward again and gently cradle his balls in my hand. "Y/n what are you-," he begins to say but I quickly cut him off.

"I promise I'll be extra gentile J, can I?" I ask him, half thinking he's gonna tell me no and to stop. He doesn't usually like his balls messed with but the few times he has let me play with them, I know he enjoyed it.

"Sure babe, I trust you. Just be extra careful, ok?" He says a tad hesitantly. A huge smile spreads across my face and I gently move my fingers up under them and feel around a little.

"Such cute little donut holes you have J," I say sitting back on my heels. He grins at me and and laughs.

"Oh I know you did not just call my balls donut holes, you weirdo," he says throwing his head back still giggling.

"I am not the weirdo here, sir, you are!" I say, clutching my chest and faking great shock. "You started this whole thing baby and I'm just finishing it," I smile coyly. "You made quite the mess earlier, J. I think I'm just gonna have to lick that silly left over frosting right off of you if we're ever gonna get you cleaned up," I say and bat my eyes as I look up at him. His leg is still propped up on the chair and he nods his head and opens his leg up a little wider so I can get in there better. He gives me another nod and an excited smile and I lean in forward once again, putting myself face to face with his cock and balls.

I grab his cock with one hand push it up towards his stomach. With my other hand I trace the veins on the underside of his shaft with my fingertips and then my tongue. I can hear him take another deep breath in and out and I can feel his body relaxing. I continue to run my tongue along his veiny underside for a minute and then move down to where his cock actually meets his balls. It's fleshy and sorta squishy and as soon as I press my tongue to it I can feel him stiffen up a little. I put my hands on his thighs, rubbing them reassuringly. "I promise I'll be gentle baby, don't worry," I breathily say. He lets out a deep breath and his body relaxes again. Just using the tip of my tongue, I tease that delicate space between his cock and balls, gently licking up and down and back and forth. His breathing quickens a little and I can tell he's starting to enjoying this. I move down a little lower every time I lick and pretty soon I'm right on top of his balls. I decide to place a gentle kiss on them and to kiss all around his pelvis and at the base of his shaft. Anything I can do to ease his mind and let him relax so he can enjoy this. I notice his tip leaking again and brush the precum off with my fingertip. "Looks like you're starting to enjoy this baby," I tell him. He smiles and nods again and just watches me silently, waiting for my next move.

I use his cum like lipgloss, spreading it evenly on my lips and puckering them. "Jesus Christ" I hear him say under his breath. I look directly at him and suck the remaining cum off my finger as seductively as I can. I hear a loud gulp come from him and I smile to myself knowing that all this is working. His dick twitches in my hand again and I immediately lick my lips a little and start softly kissing and licking his inner thighs, head and shaft. He moans out in appreciation and slightly bucks his hips into my face. I quickly make my way back to his balls and feel his breathing quicken a little but he's still very relaxed. With just the tip of my tongue I circle each orb with feather light touches and can feel the weightlessness they each seem to possess. Running my tongue all around them and over the seam in between cause my boyfriend to let out a manly shriek and groan and his sounds make me instantly stop, not knowing if it was a good sound or a bad one.

"Oh my gosh, are you ok baby? I'm so sorry, I was being so careful, I -" Fuck, no. Feels so... good... babe please... keep... going..." he barely gets out, his breathing is so erratic. "Aww baby I love how good I'm making you feel, you sound so sexy coming undone for me. Don't hold back J, you're making me so wet every time I hear you moan. My panties are soaked for you. Your voice alone in driving me crazy but it's still your turn baby," I say as he reaches for me. I gently push his hand back towards his chest and put my hands on my tits and massage them a little and tweak my nipples. "Mmmm," I let out slowly as I rock my body a little. "This feels good but it's better when you touch me, baby," I tease. His eyes go wide and he licks his lips but I ignore it. I squeeze my breasts together and bounce them with my hands a little and just stare at him and then stop and just smile. "Later," I say and wink at him. "Shit" was all my boyfriend could say.

Satisfied that I had teased him long enough, I dove right back in and started to sensually and slowly lick all around his balls and his ballsack. I could tell he was as relaxed as ever because when I gently started sucking on one of them and ever so delicately pulled it into my mouth, he didn't even flinch. I made a humming noise as I swirled my tongue around and gently pushed my mouth all around it, cupping it around my lips. He grunted and squirmed in satisfaction as I released that ball from my mouth and quickly but softly licked up and down his seam. A long, breathy string of shits and fucks left his mouth and I used my hand to tease the tip of his cock again, the feeling of the two together giving him an extremely pleasurable sensation. I quickly repeated the process on his other ball and as I started to make my way back to his seam and started licking again, he gently tugged on my hair so I stopped. "Too much baby?," I half tease.

"Girl I need to sit... down," he part moans, part chuckles. "So fucking good," he said plopping down on the kitchen chair. Regaining his composure, he tells me he is so full and he needs to cum. "I swear if I don't cum right now, I'm gonna fucking explode," he pleads with me. "Please y/n let me fuck you. I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel. Wanna hear you moan and scream my name over and over again. Plant my seed deep within your pussy and watch you get all swollen with my babies. Fuck, please babe, I want you. I need you," he pleads again.

"That sounds like a lot of fun baby, but it's gonna have to wait," I say getting comfortable on my knees. "I'm not done with you yet," I simply say and smile. A confused look spreads across his face and just as he's about to protest I bring my hands to my chest and start pulling and pinching my nipples. Rolling them between my fingertips, I let out a filthy cry of pleasure and he instantly goes silent and leans back in his chair to watch the show I'm putting on at his feet. I smile at him again and begin to kneed my breasts as I rock back and forth on my heels. I lean in slightly and grab his cock, licking it from base to tip and then stick it as far as I can down my throat while trying to swirl my tongue around him and not choke. I swallow around him and can hear those familiar grunts I love so much coming out of his mouth. Needing air, I pull him out of my mouth and take a much needed breath. "God I love you," JJ says to me, drunk off my mouth.

"You think you love me now J, just you wait baby," I say with a wink. I gently grab his hand and put it on his cock and place mine over his and start to pump his dick. Using my other hand I start teasing my nipples again, pleasuring ourselves in unison. As he starts to get the picture, I let his hand go and massage both my tits with both my hands. He continues to stroke himself while he watches me tease and grope my breasts and his dopey grin is all I need to see in order to know he's loving this just as much as I am. I start to moan his name and tell him I can't wait to feel him inside me when he quickly says that he's gonna cum. I immediately sit up and stop his hand movements and he groans out in frustration. "Why are you stopping me, do you need me to beg? Fuckkkk. Please let me cum babe, I'm so close. I was right there," he says slightly annoyed.

"I get to make you cum," I say sternly. "I get to make you feel good this time baby," I say a little softer.

"You're a terrible tease," he says sighing.

"I know!," you reply happily and then lean back on your heels again. You look at him with innocent eyes and squeeze and push your tits together and shake them a little.

"SEE!," he exclaims! "TEASE!," he fake yells.

"Look JJ, I just thought you might like to titty fuck your way home today, ok?," you say as nonchalantly as you can muster and shrug your shoulders. He leans down and roughly grabs your face with his hand and pulls you up a little so he can kiss you. His kiss is so needy and so rough. It's sloppy and wet but I love it. I smile into his desperation and let myself moan a little. He's so horny he is literally grinding into the kitchen chair and bucking his hips into my stomach. I pull away and grab my tits again and just stare at him for a minute while he eye fucks me. "So...?" I proposition him again. "You wanna cum all over these titties baby?," I say confidently, shaking my breasts and making them jiggle.

JJ licks his lips and mutters something incoherent while I lean back a little, offering my chest to him. He pumps his cock a bit to get himself started up again and then slaps his dick against each of my breasts a couple times. He takes his tip and circles my hardening nipples, getting them a bit sticky with his ever leaking dribbles of cum. I continue to hold my tits up for him while he plays with me and that dopey smile is back, plastered across his face. This man loves boobs. He'd play with them all day if I let him. I hardly ever let him cum on them though because it's messy and I just prefer him to cum inside of me so he knows that I'm doing all of this for his benefit. After a minute more of him rubbing his cock all over my tits and body he's made me sufficiently horny, way more than I thought I'd be with him just slapping my tits with his damn cock. Somehow it works for me though and I am slowly becoming an insane mess. Seeing him get so turned on was making me turned on and hearing him was even worse. He was overly ready, his tip was so red it looked like it might hurt, and that was fucking with me too. All I wanted to do was put it in my mouth and suck him dry but this wasn't about what I wanted. I was doing this for him.

I leaned forward and sat up a little again and kissed him. He stopped his movements and kissed me back. I pulled away slightly and kissed his cheek, down his jawline, down his neck and stopped right over his Adam's apple causing his head to roll back in pleasure. He loved when I sucked his skin right there and loved it even more when I left love bites for him to see later on. It was a sexy kink of his that I loved too. "I love you JJ," I quietly say into his neck.

"And I fucking love you y/n," he murmurs back immediately running his hands through my hair. I decided to take this opportunity while he was still blissed out from my neck kisses to put his eager cock between my breasts and start rubbing them up and down his shaft. With my hands, I pushed my tits together as tightly as I could while encompassing his rock hard dick. Up and down I went, letting my whole body bounce and trying to give him the most pleasure I possibly could. "Uhhhh... yes babe.... Fuck! I'm not gonna last much longer y/n.

"Let go baby, cum for me then," I sweetly coo. He groans and starts to buck himself up in between my breasts. Faster and faster he went, both of our breathing increasing as we meet each other's movements. His pumps getting rougher and faster yet. He was so close. I can't believe he's lasted this long, his stamina is always so sexy to me. I love the control he has over his body and just thinking about it makes me sweat. I am dripping wet and very thankful I've kept on my panties this entire time. After a few more quick thrusts he finally lets out that manly wail I've been longing to hear and I can feel his hot, thick ropes of cum go all over my upper body and onto my neck and face. We both slow our movements and just breathe together for a few seconds. I let go of my chest and his cock, pushing a little of the cum off my face and lick it off my finger. "Mmmm you taste so good, J," I sexily say and lean forward, kissing him on his wide open mouth. He's gawking at me again so I decide to finish my little show for him the only logical way I can think of. I pull away from the kiss and start massaging his cum into my breasts. "This feels so good, baby," I say, trying to keep eye contact. "I hope it was good for you."

"Best afternoon of my life, y/n," he says earnestly. He pulls me up onto my feet and pulls me onto his lap and kisses me again. I can feel his truth through his kiss and it makes my heart flutter.

Instantly his hands start roaming the sides of my body. His one hand brushes back and forth over my nipple while his other hand travels down to where I've been aching for him the most. He gently brushes a finger tip over my opening and immediately I can feel him smile into the crook of my neck. "You're actually dripping, y/n. Like legit dripping wet," he says completely in awe. Still stroking just my opening, he begins to kiss my neck and I can feel him start to suck on the spot that I know, he knows drives me crazy. "Mmmm that feels so good baby, don't stop," I moan out, arching my back slightly and letting my head fall back against him.

"You really have been torturing yourself as much as you have been torturing me, haven't you?" he lustily murmurs into my neck.

"Mmmhmmm," is all I can get out, followed by a sharp and deep breath in. He chuckles at me and says "does my pretty little tease of a girlfriend want to cum?" He questions. I shake my head yes and instinctively start to grind my ass against his leg. "Jesus, you're desperate for a release aren't you babe'" he whispers.

"Please," I whisper back, sounding way more needy than I intended.

"You want my fingers in that pretty little pussy? Like this?" He questions, slowly moving my panties to the side and dipping one finger into my waiting folds. In and out, he shallowly teases my entrance. It feels good but I need more. "Please," I say again. "More please, baby," I plead.

"Whatever you want babe," he complies. Quickly he stops his teasing and puts three fingers deep into me, plunging in and out at a rapid pace. I involuntarily arch my back and hook my one arm around his neck and use the other to hold onto the seat of the chair so I don't fall. "Oh! OOOHH!" Is all I can groin out, the feeling overwhelming all of my senses as I melt into his body. He uses his free arm and hand to hold onto my hips to help keep my now shaking body steady. His arms are so long that he can reach all the way around me to my pussy and uses his fingers to dip into the top of my panties and rub circles onto my pulsating clit. The material of my underwear is so tight against my skin I can feel it start to rip but I couldn't care less. I just need more. I frantically start moving my hips and fucking myself onto his his fingers in rhythm with his hand thrusts. I'm getting so close, I can feel it beginning to boil over within me. He notices my worsening desperation and fucks me faster yet with his fingers, adding an insanely pleasurable fourth finger to the mix. At this point I feel like I'm about to lose my mind any second when he decides to stop rubbing my clit and to pinch it instead. Gentle at first but then a little harder, him being careful to make sure it was making me feel good and not hurt me, before giving me more. Quick and rough pinches followed by firm, repetitive tapping on my most sensitive and over stimulated area was enough to make me yell out his name in pure unashamed pleasure. "j...J...JJ!" I practically scream but I just can't help it. I'm so worked up that I barely recognize my own voice. My body is trembling and I'm randomly convulsing and I seem to have lost all control of my movements. If he wasn't strongly holding me in place, I'd have been on the floor a long time ago. He repeats the pinching and tapping over and over again while his thick fingers stretch me out more and more. All of the sudden I feel an indescribable high wash over me and my vision starts to go fuzzy. He does not let up though and the euphoria I feel is more than incredible. It has me screaming out like a wild animal and I feel like my entire body is on fire. Before I can even realize what's happening, I feel another intense pressure building up within me and there is no turning back now because I am on the brink of explosion. JJ can tell how close I am because all it takes is a few dirty words from him to send me over the edge.

"You're so fucking sexy like this y/n. Completely at my mercy. Show me what that body can do. Show me how you squirt for me y/n. I want your pussy to squirt all over my hand. Do you understand me? If you can do that like a good girl, I promise I'll make you squirt all over my cock when I give you the fucking you deserve, later. Come on gorgeous," he says leaning in to my ear, licking and sucking on my ear lobe. "Squirt for daddy," he whispers.

That whisper was all it took for me to come completely unraveled on his lap. The waves of pleasure circulating through my body were some of the most intense sets of orgasms I've ever experienced. I could feel myself leaking all over him and the pleasure I was receiving from it was enough to bring tears to my eyes. I was sweating, crying and panting over my ragged breathing and loss of breath. The only thing I could do was scream out in pure ecstasy and I was so intoxicated by this wonderfully strong feeling and waves of feel good emotions that I didn't care one bit how loud I was or how I sounded.

As he helped me ride out my incredible high, I got lost in a state of bliss for a few minutes. He stopped all his motions and just held me while I continued to have my tiny tremors of pure lingering pleasure every so often while I was slowly coming back down to normal. Once I finally opened my eyes and looked at him he was just staring at me again with a cocky but semi concerned look on his face. He sighed out in relief and brushed a few lingering tears off my cheek. "What," I said breathily, wondering why he was once again, staring at me with his mouth hanging open.

"Y/n," he grins at me lustily. "It's been like 5 minutes since you came babe," he says incredibly cocky and proud. "I fucking thought you were possessed for a minute," he laughs. "You just kept going and going and moaning and shit. And babe- look at us! Look at the floor! You squirted like a fucking fountain y/n. It was so hot, I'm fucking hard again. You did so good for me, gorgeous. Such a good girl." He praises me, spinning me around so I'm straddling his lap. He leans down and kisses me, making sure to take his time. I feel my cheeks heat up at his words and pull away from his kiss to take a breath. He strokes my cheek lovingly and leans in and kisses my neck reassuringly. "Daddy is so proud of you," he quietly says into my ear between kisses. The feeling of his breath on my neck and his dirty words makes me shiver a little and he pulls back and smiles at me, leaning in to kiss my lips once more. He breathes into me and I can feel all the life coming back into my body. I instantly relax and smile into his kiss. The way he contently sighs back and the way his tongue gently and passionately explores my mouth while his hands tenderly cup my face make me feel so loved in this moment. His kiss always gives it away. If he never told me again how he feels, I'd still know it because I can feel it in his touch.

He eventually and reluctantly pulls away and presses me into his chest, hugging my body tightly and takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Who knew my dumb joke would turn into all this," he chuckles. I smile into his chest and chuckle back. "Yeah who knew your donut dick would turn me on so much," I say, shaking my head. He laughs again and kisses the top of my head lovingly.

"I love you, my little freak," he says affectionately.

"Love you too, my little weirdo," I say back.

[lost-in-lamentation]

I'm really sorry if this isn't something usually written or slightly difficult to write, but I was thinking about how the brothers or any of the others would react to a MC who always wears a mask ? Like, they only ever take it off when their by themself and even then they still feel odd without it. So their immediate instinct when going out is to grab their mask !

It can be for any reason ! Body dysmorphia or just general shyness, anything

I deal with this myself, and I often get a lot of weird looks for wearing it since covid is less common now. I just have one preference !

-The MC needing a lot of reassurance and comfort before taking it off [ and even then or after a bit, they need to put it back on ]

To them it may feel like protection and security, so they rely on it a lot !

I'm really sorry if this is too long or hard to read, I'm not used to making requests (╥﹏╥)

a/n: hi anon! i totally get where you're coming from, you're not alone here. and no need for sorry! i'm glad you were so specific with the request, and i hope you find some comfort here! (´ω｀)

see end for more notes.

content: asmodeus and satan are curious as to why you never go out without your face mask. the reasons differ for each brother, please read the warnings before proceeding.

warnings: extreme body dysmorphia, panic attacks (asmodeus); shyness, appearance insecurity (satan).

comfort. satan, asmodeus x gen!reader (you/your). separate.

═  ˎˊ˗

satan.

for satan to be called confused was an understatement. he was beyond baffled that every time you agreed to an outing with him, you grabbed a mask each time from the box that sat atop your desk. if he was going to be honest, he never understood why you refused to go anywhere without one. after a long period of observation, satan realised the only places he saw you without a mask on was in your own room, or at the dining table. the very idea that you hid yourself away sparked his interest, which in return lead to a new period of research. much to his dismay, personal reasons would never show themselves in textbooks. instead, he decided to tackle the source (you) instead.

satan found you in the library, of course, mask on, flipping through the notes you had made during class earlier in the day. with a nod, he slid into the seat across from you, setting his novel down and propping his chin up against his palm. the way your eyes widened slightly didn't go unnoticed by him. neither did the way you pinched your mask and brought it higher up the bridge of your nose. behind the covering, you grimaced to yourself before clearing your throat awkwardly.

"is something the matter?" you asked softly, placing your notes onto the desk.

satan tapped his index finger just underneath his jawline. "why do you wear it everywhere?"

"... come again?"

"the mask," he said plainly. "don't you get tired of wearing it everywhere? i've read that some humans even complain because it gets hard to breathe."

you made a quiet sound of acknowledgement. "i just like wearing it."

"you're not a very good liar, MC."

a defeated sigh escaped past your lips. "promise not to tell?" after a nod from the demon, you steeled yourself to explain. "it's kind of dumb, honestly. i just get really shy when i don't have it on." at your words, satan sat himself upright, keeping his gaze trained on yours. "having it on makes it easier to talk to everyone. i'm not super good-looking, you know? so... i feel a bit more confident when i'm wearing it."

satan once again found himself far beyond confused. baffled, yes. perhaps, even dumbfounded might actually be the word he was looking for in this situation. his mouth parted slightly, and his hand slowly reached out to you, stopping at the side of your face. "you can practice talking without it on with me," he spoke in a tone that he reserved solely for you. "may i?"

you blinked at him rapidly, eyes darting around the room before landing on his. swallowing nervously, you finally nodded, your shoulders tensing when satan unhooked the mask from behind your ear. when it fell away from your face, you snapped your head to the side, feeling the heat run up your cheeks and turn into a blush. "would you look at that," satan purred.

"what?"

"you're actually very attractive."

"satan! you can't just say that!" your face felt like it was on fire. flustered, you scrambled to loop the mask around your ear once more, but the blush on your cheeks had already spread down to your neck. there was a beat of silence, and then a cough from you as you shifted in your seat to face anywhere but satan. "but, if you're willing," you whispered, shooting him a a smile from behind the mask, "i'd like to take you up on that offer."

knowledge was a wonderful thing. satan could never get enough of it. but when compared to the feeling he got when you relied on him, satan would rank knowledge as second. if satan could eventually have you get comfortable enough to go around without the mask, he'd see more of that smile he's craved since the first time he saw it.

═  ˎˊ˗

asmodeus.

"MC!!" the voice echoed throughout the hallways directly into the classroom you were studying in. you turned your head towards the doorway to see the fifth born practically skip inside, coming to a stop in front of your seat. "i didn't get to show you the new lip tint i got this morning!"

you released a sigh, letting your pen fall from your fingers. "asmo, can this wait until we get home?"

"nonsense! it's the best time of day to try it out. come on!" you couldn't help thinking that all you wanted was to be left alone to do your homework, but all your thoughts came to a halt when asmodeus broke your one rule. within seconds, your mask had come off and was only hanging off one ear. unwillingly, you shrieked and pushed yourself away from the demon, his words falling on deaf ears as you fumbled to put your mask back on. with tears in your eyes, you burst out of the classroom, all your belongings forgotten as you tried to return to your only safe space; your room.

as you returned to your room, the fear and disgust overtook you all at once. you slammed your door with a cry, fingers digging into your scalp as your back collided against the wall. in the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of your reflection. the hand mirror that had been so carefully placed on your desk showed you the mess that you were. disheveled and erratic, you stared at yourself, the mask doing nothing to hide what you were. in a daze, you grabbed it from the desk and threw it against the wall, watching as it shattered into pieces. you felt your knees give out from underneath soon after, and you crashed to floor in a heap. it felt like hours had passed before a hand tentatively came to rub your back soothingly.

you scrambled away from the touch, chest heaving as you tried to clear your vision. when you did, you saw the fifth born again, this time wearing a regretful expression. "MC, it's me. i..." his voice trailed away as he looked at you. "i cleaned up the broken mirror for you," he whispered. "and... i'm sorry."

your hands trembled at your sides, balled tightly into fists. "sorry for what?" the question sounded more like an interrogation, but you couldn't be bothered to watch your tone.

asmodeus looked at you sadly, his expression crestfallen. "i knew you didn't like having your mask off, but... i never expected you to freak out like that either."

"oh, so you're just calling me a freak now?!"

"no- that's not what i mean!" he inhaled sharply, internally scolding himself for not being the best with words. "let me rephrase," asmodeus began softly, his thumbs twiddling nervously. "i'm sorry for taking your mask off. i didn't know that it would affect you that much."

at the sight you of starting to relax, asmodeus felt the tension in his shoulders begin to slip away. you glanced at where the shards of the mirror should have been. "... i see myself in the mirror, and i see something i don't want to be," you admitted. it took every effort for asmodeus to not interrupt with a shallow sounding comment. "i wear a mask so that i don't have to see myself. so that no one else has to see me."

carefully, asmodeus shuffled closer to you, settling himself a few feet away. "i have some experience with that," he confessed to you. relief bubbled inside his chest when he saw you turn to make eye contact with him. "becoming a demon wasn't easy," he continued on, a bitter look gracing his face. "but maybe it'll help me help you with this. what do you say?"

"i don't know if i'm ready for that." you replied hesitantly, staring at the floor instead of him now. "but when i am ready, will you still be willing to help me?"

the smile on his face managed to lift your mood too. "i'll always be ready to help you," he promised, holding a hand out with only his pinky extended. you mirrored his gesture from where you sat, curling your pinky around thin air. asmodeus wasn't sitting close by, but you could feel his sincerity from miles away.

a/n: i was gonna have three chars originally but.. i kinda liked how these two went and couldn't think of a good situation for the third. anon i hope this finds you well!

reblogs are really appreciated (´ω｀) ♡

[massivedrickhead]

Are you still taking the concern prompts? How about, "what are you afraid of?" I love to see your stories here 🩵

I feel like I've almost defintely written this fic before, or at least something very similar, but this is what came out when I started writing this prompt.

Thank you for sending this, I hope you like it!

20. “What are you afraid of?”

Prompt taken from here.

Read on AO3

-

“What are you afraid of exactly?”

Beca shrugged. “I mean, spiders freak me out.”

Chloe closed her eyes and exhaled through her nose. “Can you not be a smart-ass right now?”

“Sorry,” Beca said.

“Why do you keep pushing me away?” Chloe asked. “Why is it every time I get close to you, every time I feel like we’re getting somewhere, your walls come up? What is it that you’re afraid of?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Beca said, knowing exactly what Chloe was talking about. 

It had been a running theme in Beca’s life.

She’d meet someone, form a tentative friendship, then allow herself to open up just enough for them to get a glimpse of the real her, only for her to end up being left alone again. 

Eventually, she just stopped trying. She built up her defences too high, the walls too thick. Not only had she lost the key that would allow her to open up, she couldn’t even remember where the door was. 

She didn’t know how to let Chloe in, even if she wanted to. 

“Beca.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Beca said, running a hand through her hair. 

“I want you to tell me what you’re thinking,” Chloe said. “I want to know why you’re always keeping me at arm’s length.”

Beca swallowed and clenched her jaw, but she didn’t say anything.

“It’s fine,” Chloe said, with a sigh. “It doesn’t matter. I’m gonna go, I guess I’ll see you at rehearsals.”

Say something, Beca’s mind screamed at her. Say anything.

But Beca didn’t. She couldn’t.

She didn’t know how.

-

It was hours later when Chloe was disturbed from her studying by her apartment buzzer.

“Are you expecting anyone?” Aubrey asked, looking up from her own textbook.

“No,” Chloe said, checking to see if she’d had any missed calls or texts.

The buzzer went off again and Chloe put down her book and walked over to the intercom.

“Who is it?” Chloe asked.

There was a pause.

“It’s Beca,” was the response.

Chloe frowned. “It’s like 11 pm, is everything okay?” She asked.

“Yeah I, um, I just wanted to talk to you,” Beca said. “Sorry, I should have text or something. This was a bad idea, I’m gonna go.”

“No,” Chloe said quickly into the intercom. “No, I’m buzzing you up.”

She pressed the button to unlock the door and then spent the next few minutes anxiously pacing.

“I’m not even gonna ask,” Aubrey said, packing up her stuff. “I should have known it was her fault that you’ve been in a weird mood all night.”

Before Chloe could argue, Aubrey had retreated to her room, and Beca knocked on the apartment door.

“Hey,” Chloe said, opening it and standing aside so Beca could enter. “What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry for just turning up,” Beca said, wringing her hands as she crossed the threshold into Chloe’s apartment. “I just… I don’t like how I left things with us earlier, and I always come across too blunt in texts and-”

“Bec, it’s okay,” Chloe said, frowning as she watched Beca begin pacing. She’d never seen Beca like this before. She’d never seen her look anything other than calm, or composed, or occasionally disinterested. Aside from the incident in the shower, she’d never seen Beca look flustered like this. “Take a breath.” 

She did, a shaky hand coming up to run through her hair. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” Chloe said. “I’m glad you’re here, I don’t like how we left things either.”

“It’s just, the thing is, I’m not… I’m not good at this. The whole friendship thing. I try and be, you know, open and shit but it always ends up blowing up in my face. I’m always… When I finally allow myself to open up a little, they always leave. I always end up on my own again, and eventually, I just figured why bother, you know? And now… Now I don’t even know how to do it anymore. It’s like my whole brain shuts down and I lose the ability to speak. I don’t know how to open up anymore, and I’m afraid that if I don’t figure it out I’m going to lose you. And I’m afraid that if I do figure it out, I’m going to lose you.” Beca cleared her throat, suddenly terrified that she was about to cry. “You asked what I’m afraid of, and it’s that. I’m afraid I’m going to lose you, the same way I’ve lost everyone else.”

Chloe gave her a soft smile. “You aren’t going to lose me,” she said. 

“That’s what everyone says,” Beca said.

“I’m not everyone,” Chloe countered. 

“No,” Beca said. “You definitely aren’t. And that’s a good thing,” she added.

“I know,” Chloe said, her lips curling into a smirk. “So trust me when I say that you aren’t going to scare me off by letting me see the real you. In case you hadn’t noticed, I don’t scare easy.”

“I had noticed.”

“And can I tell you something else?” Chloe asked, her hands resting on Beca’s shoulders before moving down to rub up and down her arms. “You’ve just done it. You’ve just opened up and shared something with me, and now I know you a little better.”

“Oh,” Beca said, “I guess I did.”

“I’m sorry for pushing you,” Chloe said. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything, I just needed to know that this wasn’t all one-sided.”

“It isn’t,” Beca said. “And I’m sorry I made you think that.”

Chloe shook her head to let her know it was fine. “I’m glad you came over,” she said. “And I’m glad you shared all that with me.”

“I want to be able to share more,” Beca said. “Be more open, but it might take me some time.”

“That’s okay,” Chloe said. “I can be patient.” Beca raised an eyebrow. “Okay, I suck at being patient, but I can do it for you.”

Beca smiled and felt some of the tension leave her shoulders. “Thank you.” They shared a quick hug before Beca tried, and failed, to stifle a yawn.

“It’s getting pretty late,” Chloe said. “Do you want me to walk you back to your dorm?”

“You don’t need to walk me back,” Beca said. 

“You can’t go on your own.”

“If you walked me back, who would walk you back?” Beca countered. “I can order an Uber or something if it makes you feel better.”

“Or you could stay?” Chloe asked, knowing she might be pushing it a bit. “We could watch a movie or a show or something. I have a double bed. Or a comfy sofa if you’d rather sleep on that. No pressure.”

If anyone else had asked her this, Beca would have said no. How many times had Jesse hounded her about hanging out in his dorm to watch movies with him?

But Beca was surprised to find the idea of watching movies with Chloe was actually appealing. Surprised even more when the thought of sharing a bed with her didn’t fill her full of abject terror, but quite the opposite.

“Okay,” Beca said. 

Chloe beamed. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Beca said.

[krirebr]

Hello my friends!

As you may know, 2024 has been a rough mental health year for me. Depression and anxiety are an ongoing struggle. And unfortunately, that's bled into my life here.

I've realized recently that I put a lot of pressure on myself in how I interact with people. Everywhere, but here too. I really love it here, and I love all of you! I want to stay here as long as possible!! But that means I'm going to have to change some things in order to make that sustainable. Because right now, wanting to be able to do everything and not being able to has kind of made me just freeze and not be able to do anything. And then I feel awful. This is absolutely a me problem. You're all so great and what I'm going to outline below are probably obvious boundaries to all of you. But I'm saying it in writing to hopefully alleviate a little of the guilt I will inevitably feel when I start enacting them.

First and foremost, it's ok if I take breaks from writing every once in a while. If I don't produce anything new in a month, I need to trust that I won't lose all of my friends and followers. Because tumblr isn't a job and I need to stop treating it like it is. And not every idea needs to be expanded on, not every one-shot needs to become an au. Some ideas might just live in a series of little riffs or answers to asks and that's ok! That's great! It's ok to keep things short, sweet, and fun when that's what I need.

I'm also going to start forgiving myself when I can't read and comment on every single incredible work you all post. This refers to time limits, obviously, but content too. There are times, for example, when reading smut is just not what I want to do. And that's ok! I know that you know that, but I don't always know that. So I'm going to start giving myself a lot more grace when I get behind in my reading or skip something someone I love has written because the content just isn't for me. So if you start seeing me in your notes a little bit less, that's why. I still love you.

I think I'm going to clear out my ask box and start fresh. I'm sorry. I love you and I'm so happy whenever you want to interact with me. But trying to be perfect in how I answer these means that when I don't answer them right away, they just build up and start haunting me and that makes answering the new ones even harder, because I feel like I need to answer the old ones first. There are a couple that I'll probably try to get out before I purge, but not in a full drabble or what I feel like I should be doing. I need to understand that I can do quick, off the cuff, brief answers to these things. Nothing here needs to be perfect.

Ok, I think those are the major things right now. I hope this wasn't too weird and/or embarrassing. I just wanted to share where my head is at. I'll say it again and I'll keep saying it: I love you. You're great. I'm so so lucky to have made the friends here that I have. I appreciate each of you so much. And if, in the future, you see me getting super stressed out about what is supposed to be a fun hobby and community, please point me back here and make me read this again. 💜💜💜💜💜

[dlyansworld]

Why do you hate me?

Pairing:Y/n and Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Matt and you are enemies, but for some reason he’s been a little more tolerant to you lately. He’s in his room, and you’re hanging out with Nick and Chris in the living room. They go out, and you get bored.

Warnings:None just fluff

Hi my name is Nikki this is my first story i’ve ever written so i don’t even know if this is good or not but if anyone reads this and thinks it’s shit please tell me but don’t be rude.I hope y’all like this💕

I’ve been hanging out with Nick and Chris for a while and they decided they were gonna go out. It was weird though because I don't talk to Matt and they kinda just left me here.

I got bored so why not go to Matt’s room. I knocked on his door 3 times before entering, I finally opened the door after no answer then I was met with.

“Get out,” he says with an attitude and looks back down at his phone. “Why am I bored Matt, your brothers left and I'm all alone now?” I say with a smile.

“I don't care if my problem gets out,” she doesn’t even look back at me. “oh ok” I was kinda hurt but I'm used to it. When is he ever nice I laugh at myself. but what I didn’t know was that he noticed that I was upset by his words.

He pauses for a moment and notices you’re upset. “Are you upset?..” “No it’s whatever” he sighs “Now I feel bad you don’t have to leave” he has a look in his eyes but I can’t quite read it.

“Can I ask you something tho” “What is it?” he looks confused because I’ve never asked him something. I mean we haven’t had a conversation this long and this civil before.

“Why do you hate me? I mean I've tried to be nice. '' I just flat out said that I didn’t think I was gonna ask it. “I don’t hate you you’re just annoying”

“bruh” but that’s not what I said because that would be odd but that’s what I just felt after he said that you know sometimes we just have that moment when we just wanna say that.

“ok I mean I can be but why do I make you annoyed” he sighs and puts his phone down “I don’t know I just get irritated when you’re around"

“stop avoiding my question” I get confused why can't he just answer the damn question. “I’m not avoiding it, you just “annoy” me, your voice is irritating, the way you act, everything” he responds, that word again annoying I can't be that annoying, but I'm quite hurt I don't know why I just am so I say this. “wow ok fuck you im out” 

he sighs and lays his head on the table “I’m an idiot” “yea I know” I say still standing at the doorway he pauses “Wait, are you still there?” “I was waiting for you to stop me. He asked why I was waiting.” He doesn't say anything for a bit, and I start getting nervous.

“Can we start over? I don’t think you’re that annoying, I think I’m just irritated in general” I finally decided to spit out the truth since he still didn't get it “Matt can I tell you something” *welp I get go back to* a whisper I heard. Ok he's not responding, spit it out, stop being a baby.

“I’ve liked you for a very long time and it made me so upset when you never saw, I mean I was giving you a hint after I hit and you never saw it and I’ve tried to be so nice and all I’ve ever got was you being rude so that's the truth. but I think I should just gonna go now”

he becomes silent after I say all of that “Are you serious? You like me?” he stops me from leaving with his words “yes Matt I always have” he’s speechless for a moment “Well I feel like an idiot right now Sorry for being a jerk to you” he becomes more quiet but.

“it’s ok I should go now” As I'm walking out the door he stops me and grabs my hand, and if I'm being real right now it feels like a movie. “Can I ask you something real quick?” “Yeah?”

He pauses for a moment and looks at her “I Well” he pauses for a second, alright can he just spit it out now I think? “I like you too But I never thought you would like me” 

I was very surprised by his answer and didn't believe him so I said “You have?” he hesitated for a moment before he leaned forward and held her hands. He’s so close, only an inch from her lips

He kisses her, their lips touching. The kiss is gentle and soft. He pulls back a few seconds later. “Does that answer your question?” I lean back in for more. And with that, the brothers burst through the door. “What the fuck” Nick and Chris say at the same time.

Ok that was my first story ever and I really hope you guys like it, if you think its bad please don't be rude but gives me tips I would love to hear on how I can improve, Love Nikki

[mellonyheart]

This is the most self projecting thing I've ever written because guess what my body gave me for Christmas? Yaaaaaaaaayyyyyyy. Fuck my life. I still had to cook Christmas dinner too.

Mammon x Reader, first person pov, sfw, swearing because fuck is my favorite word today, slight angst, probably poorly edited. Edit: forgot to add 'reader is fem bodied. Whoops. Edit2: Actually gender is meaningless here and Reader could just as easily be suffering from menstrual cramps or a chronic disease/condition. So gn? The point is Reader has cramps. It's not specified what kind. Only that they hurt bad enough to not be able to enjoy going out.

Fuck.

This wasn't how I wanted to spend my Christmas.

I was supposed to greet the boys at breakfast. We'd eat and hold back our excitement (some better than others) about the coming festivities. I was going to help with Christmas dinner. I was going to bake a truckload of Christmas cookies! We were going to decorate them together. It was going to be a chaotic blast! It wasn't supposed to end up like this....

Owww....

My body seemed to have other ideas as I was now confined to my room by cramps. It's not fair! As if it wasn't bad enough I can't be in my (real) room but the boys were out spreading Christmas cheer for the rest of Devildom without me. And I was really looking forward to it!

It was hard to fight the tears as I remembered how Solomon left early to help out in my stead. I hope they can keep him away from the kitchen. That would be a disaster. Were the brothers missing me? They were right?

I missed them. I missed the present. I missed being a part of their wild world. I miss Mammon.

And now I really am crying. In no small part from the pain in my belly as much as my heart. My phone was suspiciously quiet too. Were they busy? Did something happen? Crap... you never know in the Devildom. Something is always coming up. I wanted to be a part of it. Why was fate so cruel?

I rolled over, still dwelling on my miserable thoughts. The pain killer was barely working. If I ever find this Nightbringer person (demon? Angel? Whatever...) I'm going to give them an earful. Not that my current situation was their fault but it makes me feel (infinitesimally) better to blame the entity that put me here.

Knock knock

Nope. Don't even think about it Solo. I'm asleep and I'm not eating your "soup".

Knock knock

I'm sleeping. Go away.

I could have sworn I heard a curse on the other side of my door but it was too quiet to make out. Weird. Solomon didn't usually curse.

Bzzt

?

I got a text message.

Hey.

You awake?

It's cool if you're not.

The Great Mammon just thought it'd be a good idea to check in on ya. You should be grateful I'm such a nice guy.

Fuck!

Anyway...

Just thought I'd say Merry Christmas.

"Wait!" I shouted as I threw open my door and there was Mammon halfway down the hall looking back at me with a startled expression.

...Just in time for another cramp. Ow.

"So ya were awake! Hang on... are ya okay?!" Mammon rushed to back to me, likely noticing my distress. He helped me back to bed and as he tried to take a step back I held his sleeve. Such soft fabric... if I wasn't miserable right now I would complement his santa outfit. It was perfectly... him.

"Thanks Mammon. But uh... what are you doing here?" I had to know. Why couldn't I let myself just be happy that he was here?

"Is that any way to greet someone who came all the way here to see ya?! And look at ya... fallin' over and stuff. Wait. Does that make me a hero?"

"Sure. My Christmas hero. Doesn't answer my question though." How is it that he can make me smile so easily? That has to be a super power. Maybe he is a hero.

"Do I really need a reason to see ya?! Gimme a break would ya?!" He huffed. I could guess what he was really doing here. His golden heart was always clear to me.

"I'm glad you came. Thank you. I was actually getting pretty lonely." Honesty was easy with Mammon. Even if he couldn't be honest himself. He was blushing and looking away from me. Damn he was cute.

"Y-yeah... well I figured you'd be lonely without me. I mean... well it just sucks ya got sick on Christmas. It ain't right." And by all things holy and unholy he looked at me like he meant it. He did mean it. Mammon really could be ridiculously sweet. Maybe too sweet because I can feel the tears coming back.

"H-hey! I didn't mean to... I wasn't tryin' to..." Poor Mammon. He was panicking. I really did try to explain that it wasn't that he said something wrong. It was just hormones going a bit overboard. But talking is hard when you're trying not to sob because the demon you love is too sweet for his own good. So I just hugged him. Hard. If he wasn't a demon, probably too hard but how else can I express that I love him so much I want us to meld into one person? I'm emotional. Don't hold it against me.

Mammon tried to calm me down. He hugged me back and kept saying anything he thought would be soothing in his own Mammon way.

"Hey. Ya good?" He asked as I finally calmed. My eyes hurt.

"Yeah. I'm sorry Mammon. This probably wasn't what you had in mind when you came over." My face felt puffy and I could really use a snack and some hydration.

"Don't worry about it. Are ya sure you're okay?" Anyone who says Mammon only cares about himself is an idiot.

"Yes. You're the best Mammon. I really need you to know that." I wiped my face and attempted a normal, definitely not wet, smile.

"Come on... don't get all sweet on me. Oh! I almost forgot!" Mammon suddenly dashed back into the hallway. After a moment he came back with a small festively colored bag and a thermos. "Here. I got this for ya. I uh... wanted to give it to ya before the others got here."

"Hold on... the others?" I asked, bewildered.

"Aw crap... that was supposed to be a surprise! Ya gotta pretend to be surprised when the others call ya down. I was supposed to check how ya were feeling so we can throw ya a party downstairs. Ya know, because you probably don't feel like walkin' to the House of Lamentation or the castle. And then Solomon said you didn't want to teleport so..."

I should have known. I love them. All of them. And they love me. Of course they would try to plan a surprise party so that I didn't feel left out. I feel like the luckiest human of all time. Dumb hormones can't stop me from having a good Christmas.

"Mammon?" I interrupted him from his rambling.

"Huh? What is it?"

"Can I kiss you?"

"H-huh?! H-hold on! You haven't even opened your present yet!" Fuck he's cute when he blushes.

"Can I kiss you after I open my present?"

"S-sure, whatever you want! Just open it already!" Mammon pressed the bag in my direction as to put as much distance between it and himself. He looked at me expectantly.

Inside the bag was... cookies. Clearly handmade. They certainly weren't made or decorated by Luke or Barbatos. One was a touch burned.

"You made me cookies?" I asked.

"Tis' the season right? Look! That one is you and that one is me. I threw in a couple Christmasy shapes too. Ya gotta try 'em though!" He looked nervous despite sounding so excited. I bet he brought these privately because his brothers made fun of his amateur baking skills. And he made mini us!

I took a bite of a Christmas tree.

"It's good."

"Yeah?! I mean I tried extra hard to get the shapes right and Luke had to help me with the decoratin' but they look good right?!" He smiled like the first sunrise in Devildom. So I kissed him.

Then as he got flustered and admonished me for the surprise attack I made cookie us kiss too.

Marry Christmas.

[reasonsforhope]

Thank you, stranger, for making this blog. You are truly a kind, beautiful soul. Thank you for existing for the world. Many of us appreciate you!!!! Thank you!!!!! /vvvvvvvgen

...now to me. I'm sorry for adding for your huge askbox as is, genuinely...

I naturally, without thinking, don't act like my real personality because it's been shunned dozens of times across my entire life. It's not fundamentally flawed (I know that, 100%--we all have flaws, ad I absolutely wasn't a terrible person for expressing them). Nonetheless, all I know is that the person I act like everyday of my life since I finally snapped and started doing this whole thing two years ago -- almost three -- is not who I really am. You know when you put on a shoe that, while your foot can fit inside and you can walk around just fine, you know it's just not your size because it doesn't feel right at all? That's me and my "personality"...people thought I was weird when I showed my genuine personality. I was just...pretty different than most. some comments I've got on my old personality:

"You're ...... Weird." (said with a thinly hid derogatory tone)

"Stop. You're not one of us."

"Why are you talking like that?"

"Sensitive. No one likes you."

And the one that finally made me snap:

"Stupid." (the person who said this then continued top he conversation as normal. Not acknowledging my stunned reaction.)

In addition, for a couple months I got treated like a dog. A literal dog.

I basically got treated like an outcast.

I know the personality I've left buried for so long has grown on its own, with me. It wasn't totally neglected and in fact is still here. It's just hidden behind this mask...which I can't take off. Because I literally don't know how. It's become such a habit to be someone else that I don't even fully, consciously know who I genuinely am today...it's hard. I hurt. A lot. I'm terrified of being vulnerable in any way, now. Just curled up in a shell.

...what am I to do? Where am I even going to begin? I feel lost. All I know, in the depths of my heart, that there is hope. There is always hope yet. That is something I've always known.

So what now? I'm scared, tired, and unsure. Is there anything I can do, anymore, at all? To figure out, and then be, who I know I am, deep down?

Thank you for reading, if you did. From the bottom of my heart--thank you. Thank you.

Sincerely,

#🎈🌠🐘

<3 <3 <3

Thanks so much <3 And fwiw for anyone wondering, it's not HUGE huge, I've got like 45 asks and dms to get to, but it still feels pretty big for me, a person who has def never had that happen before. Hoping to try to answer a batch of 2-4 of them on the weekends

Also, in terms of the rest of it.... Sorry if I'm overstepping, and definitely not to do that "diagnose people over the internet shit," but have you ever looked into whether you might be autistic or some other flavor of neurodivergent. Because as an autistic person, I see a Lot of my own experiences in what you've written

Regardless of whether you have or not, and whether you're autistic or not, I definitely know what it's like to deal with that kind of shit and bullying, and how trying to mask your own differences can twist you up inside. I had a problem with compulsively lying for a while in high school because of how ingrained "covering for myself" became - so I get how unsettling it feels when this shit becomes something you can't consciously control

Because there's so much overlap, I'd actually recommend looking into books and resources from the autistic community in masking and the difficulty of unmasking, regardless of whether you're autistic or not. A lot of the traumas are similar, too, so if you're at that level of "burying," I really think you'll be able to get something out of it no matter what

(This applies to anyone reading this who has also had to deal with that kind of shit or has found themselves doing something similar.)

Also, you should definitely look into trauma work (and "complex PTSD") and see if there's anything helpful to you there--there's a lot of really effective, evidence-based stuff out there about how to untangle your nervous system, because that kind of social rejection and isolation is absolutely/inherently traumatizing

Some Resources

Masking stuff:

Seven Steps to Unmasking as a Neurodivergent Person

What Is Complex PTSD (C-PTSD)? from Healthline

Autism Masking: To Blend or Not to Blend from Healthline

This is an assessment for social masking. It's written about autism, but I think a good amount of it would be applied to other types of masking like this.

Trauma stuff:

What Is Rejection Trauma? from TherapyMantra

Healing from Rejection Trauma from CPTSDFoundation.org

The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma by Bessel van der Kolk

What My Bones Know: A Memoir of Healing from Complex Trauma by Stephanie Foo

And if none of that helps you...there's definitely a lot of other stuff out there. There's things like journaling, which are a huge help with this sort of thing. Figuring out who you are underneath it all takes time and feels super weird and it's not easy, but I have faith you can do it. Don't give up, just keep moving forward

[prince-liest]

Ok so I know you haven't officially trans anyone's gender in any of your Hazbin fics, but I lowkey get really trans vibes from Alastor in most of your fics?

Idk, it's a little hard go explain but what really tipped me off was his... distaste? Disfavor? Aversion? To his "male body" in one of the 666 fics. (I think the line was something akin to "the male body being what it is" in reference to Alastor getting hard fairly quickly).

There's honestly a lot of interesting things to speculate in relation to how Alastor views his body. Especially with his relationship with touch, and how he initiates touch and how he actively dislikes it (depending on the person).

Not to mention his feelings regarding his non-human features. How he doesn't inherently dislike them for being what they are, or rather, that they're "abnormal", but more so that they're not what they're "supposed to be", and not "what he was before" (though I do think that his dislike of his deer features is linked to his dislike of how he died, being viewed as something so easy to be put down - an animal).

Which also relates to how dressed Alastor constantly is. How he shields away his body using clothing, a customizable thing that he takes great pride in making sure is up to his standards (notice how when his coat is damaged he immediately goes to get it fixed, even though the ends of his coat is already damaged. He seems to have very complex opinions on how, exactly, his coat is supposed to be damaged)

I do think that Alastor's preference to being so dressed is linked to his dislike of vulnerability, but I also think it's a very trans(tm) move, lol.

(And I also do think that his dislike of vulnerability is tied to his transness, kinda in a weird "chicken and egg" scenario.)

I find it really interesting how Alastor's true feelings are revealed by his shadow, a being that can transform to look different, is mostly hidden, and is internally mysterious. Idk, it's just very trans(tm) to me!

I also think that Alastor's transness is linked to how he views masculinity, how he seems to automatically like woman, while automatically disliking man. How this is also tied to his parents. I've noticed in your fics (and could be completely wrong about) that Alastor seems to relate femininity (and his mother) with "safety" (how he compares the gentle touch in your last fic with feeling like his mother and his like of jambalaya).

I'm not sure if I would say that Alastor is a trans woman, but I also wouldn't say he isn't. Overall I think he has a very complex view of gender, but it's definitely something he doesn't put a lot into. Which relates to him not knowing what asexuality is.

I have a lot more Alastor trans thoughts, but this ask is already getting pretty long so I'm just gonna cut it off here. I hope I made sense, and that you're comfortable with me speculating on a character you've written about gender. (Totally valid if you're not though! If so, then please disregard this ask!)

I'll take "asks that made me realize I'm out here accidentally writing a character as nonbinary" for 300, please! Please prepare yourself for the mistake of letting me have a keyboard and talk about gender after 9pm, so sorry to literally everybody else.

You're gonna get a real fuckin' kick out of the first bit of the next 666 that I'm gonna post tomorrow. ;) It's definitely the point where I finally acknowledged to myself that I have a strong urge to inject some genderfuckery into Alastor in the form of him continuing to use his thing with Vox to explore his own relationship with, like, existing in his own body, and then also threw those feelings all over Angel Dust like a fistful of glitter while I was at it.

Like you said, I wouldn't say that I've ended up writing him as a trans woman, but I think I have seen him from the start as a character who is not exactly cis in a wibbly-wobbly way I have not previously defined but that I think I would perhaps characterize as "gender: monster condescending to play at humanity."

I don't think he eschews masculinity entirely, for what it's worth. He definitely strikes me as a person who aligns himself with the image of a smiling gentleman (if a hellish one) as the proper way for a person like him to be, and for whom that is an important, comfortable, and satisfying part of both his identity and how he relates to both his female friends and to men. However, he also strikes me as someone for whom that part of his identity is what he shows the world on purpose, presented as he would like it to be seen, rather than as something that reflects his bodily preferences. To put it another way, if he'd been AFAB, I think he would put just as much into his presentation, just in the direction of femininity, and it wouldn't make him any more or less comfortable with himself.

You're right in that I've definitely written him with a faint distaste for the mundane physical reality of his body, and a lot of this comes through in how he alternates between short moments of fascination with what new things his body is doing as he explores it and decides whether or not he likes it, and his much longer moments of utter disregard for the same thing. It also extends to the rest of his mundane humanity, though: his physical limits, his adrenaline-rush of fear, etc. He values the coat, the cane, the reality-bending static, the smile - but whatever he sees in the mirror when he gets undressed or whatever doesn't function to his purposes, he can take or leave.

I see Alastor as someone who defines himself first and foremost as the radio demon: not a person, but a monster and an enigma. A voice and a personality. Everything else is more or less incidental, and he would prefer to keep it set aside, thank you. The occasional dysphoria isn't just about his sex, it's about the humanity of his body as a whole.

[sendpseuds]

What fueled your transition into Obikin? How does writing about our boys compare to writing Obitine (the loveliest most badass woman).

Hi!

Thank you for the ask 🖤

Now, please forgive me while I ramble.

First of all, I love Obitine. I absolutely adore the love and respect they have for each other. Their relationship is complicated and nuanced and also just so so tragic and I've adored every fic I've written for them.

When I wrote my first Obikin fic [The Resolute Theater Presents] it was a complete departure from anything I'd written before. To that point, not only had everything been Obitine, but also in-universe AND all part of the same series [Even if You Wanted to]— the same story I'd been telling every week for almost a year.

I had just finished a fic that, if I'm being honest, really fucked me up [Bound and Broken]. I love this story so much, I'm so proud of it, but FUCK did it put me in a bad place. I needed something light and unserious and this silly Broadway AU was just looping through my mind and I decided to go for it.

While writing Resolute, something — I don't know — something happened. Something changed as far as how I was thinking about the stories I could write.

Instead of always thinking about what came next in an ongoing story, and holding myself to someone else's plot points, I was thinking about entirely different worlds.

Basically, I realized I could write anything.

That's when Haunted Heart happened and it just sort of blew the doors off my brain.

I owe a lot of this change in perspective to fellow writers like @yourfavoritefridge and @palfriendpatine66 whose continued support and encouragement have pushed me to write a lot of things am deeply proud of and would never have had the courage to write without them cheering me on.

IN SUMMARY

I would say it was less of a shift from Obitine to Obikin, and more a shift from one long canon-compliant story, to… whatever the fuck I wanted to write?

That being said, let's address the Obikin of it all.

I think it has way more to do with the dynamic than any actual shipping or subtext. As I said earlier, the Obitine dynamic is based on respect. But Obikin? That's something a lot closer to obsession.

There's something about the unhinged nature of their dynamic that tickles my brain in a specific way that I can't quite explain?

​​And, I'll be honest— the popularity of the Obikin ship certainly doesn't hurt, but I think what's more important is that the community is SO supportive. There is so little pressure or expectation, with a real emphasis on writing what you want. Like I said, the kudos and comments are great, but— I can write a fic that’s basically just a rant about AI, or a weird smutty first-person dissociative thriller, or a story about Obi-Wan literally fucking himself and I know it will be met with nothing but positive energy and encouragement. That’s something that keeps me coming back to Obikin.

Clearly, I still love Satine, she's shown up in my AUs here and there and I always enjoy having her around. I really love including her as someone Obi-Wan feels safe with. A friend he knows will always shoot him straight and always be there for him.

I’m sure I’ll write more Obitine when the right idea appears in my mind, but right now, I’m just chasing stories.

x

[axailslink]

Can you do one where Scotty is stalking fem! reader, but it turns out reader was the first to notice scotty and has actually been following her around for way longer?? IDK, I just feel like this would be interesting to read.

I see you too

Scotty x FEM reader

She's so beautiful but I can't do this again I can't allow myself to do this again... What if she thinks I'm weird or worse some pervert? Scotty watches you while she sits in the van you're watering the plants outside the house tomorrow was going to be sunny and you didn't want them to get burnt out brittle around the edges. Scotty thought this was cute how much you cared for the small things around you before yourself she could tell you hadn't showered yet your hair was pulled off your shoulders and eyes damn near shut. "She works so hard just like me" you go back in the house and it brings her joy down because now she has to do something she'd never thought she'd do.... She has to get closer and has to see you more she leaves the car quietly approaching your house no one else is really outside at this time only you she's noticed you go to sleep early around eight doesn't know why but that's usually when you go in. When she approaches the living room window she's met with you taking your robe off she quickly looks away not wanting to go that far in invading your privacy. You're left in something she didn't expect not undergarments but straight black clothes and tennis shoes. She'd never approached your window before she always thought you went to sleep after checking on the plants she never stayed long to find out though. Right now she had a choice to keep investigating where the hell you were going or to go and take care of her mother. She loved you but her mother couldn't care for herself she hurriedly runs to her car tripping over her own feet straight into the fence cutting her shoulder and shirt you hear the rustling outside and look out your window but by the time you look she's gone and so is that van that's always two houses from yours.

If she was going to watch you from afar she could have at least been better at it that van doesn't go unnoticed you hum to yourself as you put on your beanie and gloves getting ready for your... nightly run.

.

When you finally reach her house she's sitting outside you run past as if you don't see her so that is what she does when she's done watching you she always comes home something or someone must be inside. There's not a day where she doesn't come home you would find out tomorrow what it was you don't know how yet but you're going to find out.

.

Here you stand at her door putting on the perfect facade thank your high school for school plays. She opens the door and the facade is going you can't think so you let it all spill everything. "I've been watching you... Not in a weird way but I see you often have multiple jobs I see you a lot driving the van sitting in front of my house watching me" you can see the panic written all over her face "no no that's not me I would never..." You sigh "I see you too. Your name's Scotty you're young you're sweet and I think you might like me and that's fine because I've also seen you and watched you. Not a lot! Just a couple of times I run past your house every day just to catch a glimpse of you. You're nice to look at."

She closes the door in your face leaving you chewing on your words so stupid you just couldn't lie and say you were lost!? No you just saw her and completely forgot just rambled about how she's sweet oh for goodness sake. She opens the door just a bit looking at you with a giddy smile on her face "you like me?" You can't help but smile at the smile she's giving you "maybe would that be bad?" She closes the door again and you can hear voices through the door of a woman then Scotty herself "mama! She likes me too! What do I say!?" You can't hear her reply but Scotty opens the door and smiles at you again causing you to laugh nervously "let me take you out for something small? Maybe?" Her smile's so big that if you were to touch it she'd break like fragile glass shattering she nods eagerly "yes yeah uhm absolutely I have work tomorrow and the day after but I should be off that next day." You nod and she stares at you before asking "you see me?" It felt like code for something but you agreed "yeah I see you... Goodnight Scotty see you in two days don't forget to stop by in-" you think for a moment back to the time she would sit and watch you water your plants "14 hours" she smiles to herself and nods eagerly.

A/n: okay first off not romanticizing stalking in any way however Scotty's character... I'm pretty sure she has something wrong mentally she doesn't know boundaries so when she likes someone she does anything to be near them is all. Don't blame me blame the damn show 🙄 however if you do got a problem and would like to fight I don't mind. Scotty deserves the world and a happy ending so I'm giving it to her. Also this is unedited.

[aliasrocket]

I wanted to say something for an anonymous comment about feeling less embarrassed of having feelings for Rocket. I must say I totally understand that.

A month ago, when GOTG VOL 3 was released, I went to see it at the cinema with my mother, I spent the whole movie very excited for Rocket, but right in that scene where he is on the verge of death and he meets Lylla again, SOMETHING INSIDE IT CHANGED ABOUT ME, because when they were hugging I realized I was JEALOUS, and in my mind I thought "OH NO, IT'S HAPPENING TO ME AGAIN", because I always fall for characters that might be unconventional or weird to other people , then I start looking for fics and I realize that there are not many for the same reason, or there are many where it is more platonic and I think "IT IS NOT ENOUGH" And it's more complicated for me because my first language is not English and in my language there is NOTHING. So meeting people who write Rocket the way I imagined really makes me very happy. I'm even thinking about writing some one shots myself but it's hard, I've never written NSFW and I find it kind of funny that I want to start with Rocket.

Oh my god this was absolutely sweet.

Yes!! Everyone IT IS OKAY TO LIKE UNCONVENTIONAL CHARACTERS. LITERALLY, IT IS NOT A BIG DEAL!! JUST BE YOU!!!

And I’m really sorry there isn’t much fics in your language, but on the bright side I’m really happy that you’re at least able to read and write in english even if it isn’t your first language!

Also, yeah, in my experience, besides sighing the whole goddamn movie (except for the first 10 mins, I will give myself that,) I remember leaving the theatre in a sigh and going on ao3 like “ah shit, here we go again” bc this is the 1982838th time I’ve visited ao3 for some really obscure ship or an x reader fic for a very underrated character.

And about that Rocket smut, I understand how can it be daunting and I’d really love to help you!

Ykw, let me make a quick guide for anyone who’s scared of writing Rocket smut!! But for those of you who wouldn’t wanna read some real ugly/stupid stuff, don’t press the ‘keep reading’ line, haha.

a quick (and definitely unhinged) guide to writing Rocket smut XD

OBVIOUS NSFW WARNING!!! It gets ugly guys please THIS IS YOUR WARNING I’M NOT JOKING!!

If you’re uncomfortable with heavy nsfw please turn away now!!

written by aliasrocket (89P13 on ao3 hehe)

Suitable for any smut involving Rocket! (Looking at you guys, roquill shippers. Don’t worry, I welcome all ships on my blog <3)

This is supposed to be a writing smut guide specifically meant for Rocket so I’m not gonna go into the basics of writing smut, but if you’re a total beginner, here’s some pointers to help :

the genitals, legs, muscles, brain : main places that tend to be the most stimulated, exhausted or absolutely wiped. That being said, you can use these as a starting point for describing the feelings the characters or the reader may feel in the moment.

besides the main thing, you could try to set the mood by maybe mentioning how the moans sounded like, (screams, squeals, cries etc.) and other things the characters were doing to ground them in the moment, like gripping the sheets, gripping the other person’s shoulder or hips, etc.

Okay, so, about Rocket in particular …

Yeah, of course writing smut about a fucking Raccoon isn’t going to be fucking easy. But don’t worry, as someone who has studied all 3 gotg films and slowed down quite possibly every single Rocket clip in existence (enough to know Rocket … is genuinely CANONICALLY is very particular/skilled with his fingers, he knows where he’s putting them and knows EXACTLY which buttons to press on any tech, so … definitely good at using his fingers if you catch my drift) I think I might have gotten the hang of it to help some of you guys out.

So first off, when I write Rocket smut I always imagine he’s his comic height instead of his mcu height (don’t search it up, you’re just gonna be depressed about it trust me) so all you have to know is that if he pressed you up against a wall his head would be around your shoulder blade area. For missionary, he’s probably around your collarbone.

Rocket canonically has sharp and absolutely grown out nails. No, they’re not retractible. I’ve done research on this, but if you’d like to write him fingering someone, Rocket can have his nails trimmed.

It would hurt if Rocket bit you. Like, it would fucking bleed. So I’m sorry to say to those biting kink girlies (those are me hi) but Rocket can only afford to give you or someone else some nibbles on the skin unless you guys want some serious bloodplay on your hands. This is because he has protruding fangs on both his upper and lower row of teeth, his lower ones more prominent than the top.

Rocket can, however, eat you out. Don’t wanna get too into depth with this but basically his tongue can stick out his muzzle pretty well and his nose makes for a good clit-stimulator HAHAHAH

!!! : (this is going to be a description of the average raccoon penis so skip this if you don’t wanna know about this because you can DEFINITELY write Rocket smut without having to know this so please be free) I had to research this for a very specific request (pls ily shameless anon/pos) and I almost cried out of the loss of my sanity but anyway, raccoons have a baculum bone which is basically a bone in their penis that helps with copulation, its average length is about 4 inches but can be longer if you catch my drift. The genital itself is a like a rod with a ‘spiky’ end (it’s not actually spiky but it looks that way) compared to human genitalia, kind of like a cat’s but much longer and it is a very dark shade of brown or just plain black. Feel free to use any of these for a possible description if ever you need it, though I never really talk about it in fics, especially the whole ‘spiky’ thing. That being said, Rocket should not have an issue with size, as the the average human male genitalia is about five inches, meaning he can hit anyone’s g-spot just fine.

I might add more points if I have any more but this is all I got right now. I really hope this somehow encouraged you to write that nsfw fic you wanted, and just know everyone’s got interests, it’s fine if not a lot of people irl are into Rocket that way, because that’s literally what the internet is for!