#i just really like telling long form stories lol

[syrupyyyart]

Its exciting to finally actually be working on Motley, but it's also astronomically frustrating because I wanna Get Into The Good Stuff so BAD

[mermaidsirennikita]

sometimes it drives me literally insane to see romance requests that are like

--I want a romance wherein it's basically the happy epilogue throughout the book

--I want a romance that has great communication and they never withhold anything from each other ever

--no "miscommunication trope"

The last thing is just a general gripe about how so many of the things people say are tropes are not tropes, and it's pedantic and snobby but like. Miscommunication is so broad. It's not a trope. People are miscommunicating. WHAT are they miscommunicating about? Is one of them keeping a secret identity from their partner? Because a secret identity romance iS a trope. Is one of them withholding their feelings out of fear of rejection?

Because people DO miscommunicate. Often writers do write it clumsily. If people miscommunicate for no reason, sure, whatever. But if they miscommunicate BECAUSE of a REASON--like, often it's not even miscommunication lol. It's the hero keeping his dire supernatural secret from his wife because she'll die if she finds out (honestly, valid to me, but whatever). It's the heroine finding it difficult to trust the hero with her heart because her dad left when she was young (maybe cliche in theory, but actually a very real thing that happens).

If all you want is plotless nothing wherein everyone is happy and nobody makes mistakes, I personally have a hard time thinking of it as a book, because there is no story. It's just vibes. And essentially EVERY time, people have to mess up and make mistakes in order for there to be a plot.

I just don't understand the point.

[webcomic-character-tournament]

Genuine question. Why are comics from online only publishers discouraged? What is the goal behind discouraging paid webcomics?

sorry for taking so long to answer this!

i got really excited about answering this but also am not very good at communicating things clearly, i often get lost in the details in my passion about stuff like this, so i hope this is still interesting to read and intelligible lol!

i dont think there is any one thing that inherently defines what is and isn't a webcomic, it's an amorphous category that i enjoy the ambiguity of. but for me, what first led to my wonder for them as an 11 year old, and what has been a major factor in my passion for them even as an adult, was their low barrier to entry in both making them and accessing them. if you have internet access and time, almost anyone can make a webcomic if they want to! of course, without editors (or often even full story plans) or sensitivity readers or more people on a team to collaborate and contribute to the comic's vision, and the huge effort that it takes to do all the tasks of writing, inks, coloring, lettering, etc. all on ones own often without professional resources to facilitate that, that means that a lot of webcomics are really rough in some way or another. but a lot of people have interesting ideas they want to work with, but don't have the technical skill, desire or ability to market themselves or be beholden to external work deadlines, or connections in some way or another to be able to share those ideas through traditional publishing. regardless of skill or ability, a lot of marginalized people are barred from having their stories accepted by publishers due to bigotry and expectations about what kind of story is profitable.

as a disabled lgbt kid, i definitely read a lot of really bad webcomics i wish i hadn't, but also some of the media i was exposed to that most represented me back then was in the form of webcomics from people a lot like me. and i could read so much of it easily and for free without having to risk much to access it behind my parents' backs!

obviously that isn't the case for every webcomic, but for me and my history with them, them being easily accessible to both publish and read has been really important.

there are absolutely a lot of good points to be made about how publishing free to read webcomics isn't always the most accessible thing for a lot of people, especially for poor and disabled people. making webcomics takes a huge amount of time and effort, and sometimes even if people are passionate about making a comic, they just can't afford to find the time for that around all the other responsibilities of their day to day lives unless it can be a consistent income source. thats why even if paid online comics arent my platonic ideal of webcomics, i absolutely would never exclude them. i want small creators making stories i want to read to get the money they need to survive and keep telling stories without burning out!

it could be argued that online publishers who specifically focus on webcomics don't always present the same barriers to entry as traditional publishers, and many don't restrict the scope of marginalized creators' stories at all or to the same extent as people have struggled in other more mainstream avenues. and from my outside understanding of publishers like hiveworks, i'd absolutely agree with that! i love a lot of hiveworks comics and think its an awesome thing! (of course literally my icon is from a hiveworks comic, tiger tiger!) nonetheless however, part of my goals with this tournament is to highlight lesser known comics, and as publishers like hiveworks help advertise and promote their comics, even if i still want everyone to read all my favorite comics published by them, and certainly there are limits to those advertising resources, they still don't need as much help as other comics without that support. so its not as much 'try not to submit these' and more 'as you submit stuff like this, try to submit stuff with less advertising resources and popularity too!'

going into this tournament i also had a similar sentiment for stuff like webtoons originals. there was an added element to me in how i feel like i know a lot of people nowadays who read webtoons but don't have much awareness of other forms of webcomic, but even if in my love for webcomics i want people to come to appreciate all the breadth of ways they can exist in, thats obviously not something to make a huge priority. it's incredible the amount of forms comics can take (sidenote but reading scott mccloud's "understanding comics" a couple years ago was really formative for me in cementing how much i appreciate that, i'd highly recommend it!!!), and the way infinite scroll comics like webtoon style comics more fully make use of their digital medium, using time scrolling to pace things in place of traditional gutters and panelling, is really really cool. of course they're becoming more popular in a world where more people have smartphones, where webtoon style comics are a lot easier to read than many other forms. i love a lot of webtoons, and id feel regressive to discourage stuff like line webtoon original comics any more than stuff like hiveworks comics, just to go against current trends in what comics people seem to prefer. they have a similar low barrier to entry (through contests) as other online publishers, and it's cool to see creators get the opportunity to get paid for their work and get help from professional editors and stuff

but in the past couple weeks of running this tournament, i ended up reading a lot more about the behind the scenes of what its like to be a line webtoon original creator. line webtoon's expectations for their creators are incredibly unrealistic and exploitative, with grueling deadlines leading to a lot of creators to get repetitive strain injuries, all while working for well below industry standards. obviously a lot of webcomic creators make an inconsistent poverty level income out of it as independent creators, and that shouldn't happen either, but it's absolutely inexcusable for a company to profit off this labor and then manufacture these same conditions. without any organized labor movement surrounding that issue, that of course isn't an argument against reading or promoting these comics on its own, creators are more likely to get more income if their comics get more popular, and despite the promise of popularity by becoming an official comic, they absolutely still aren't all promoted equally. what has made me want to slightly more discourage (but still absolutely not disallow!) stuff like line webtoon official comics has been the combination of that along with learning that much of the editing of webtoons originals carries less of the benefits of having experienced creatives collaborating with creators to elevate their stories to new levels, and very often instead ends up taking the form of 'simplify this plotline and make this character look more attractive and fit this archetype more fully so we can market this better and have readers easily consume each update while they're scrolling their phone without having to think about it too much'. while obviously there are a lot of amazing webtoon official comics in spite of what i've heard anectdotally, hearing that just really went against so much of what i've most valued about my experience with webcomics!

i want creators to be able to tell stories no matter how weird and unmarketable, where they'll never have to worry about pushback for making stories with characters and themes that resonate for them as a member of any oppressed group, and where there's as little pressure as possible pushing them to work harder or faster than they healthily can or want to! so for me, even if i still love a lot of online published comics and want them to be celebrated and want their creators to be able to make a comfortable living out of them, i still just want to highlight stories that had that level of freedom that has created some of my favorite experiences with webcomics just a little bit more.

[thats-a-lot-of-cortisol]

2 & 3 from section 1 for peri and 7 from whichever section has a more interesting #7 for diodore -moss

oooh these are fun ones!

2. Describe their tent set-up (outside and inside) (Peri)

I think Peri's tent is constructed similarly to Gale and Astarion's (boxy, fabric walls, little covered area outside). Deep blue fabric w/ golden astronomical embroidery, mostly the sort of thing you see on star maps. Little golden tassles around the edges of the tarp (?) and the doorframe. He'd have a small, circular, dark wood side table short enough that you can use it sitting on the ground, and a dark blue pillow next to it; there would be some parchment and a bronze miniature astrolabe on the table. The inside would be just. full to the brim with the gaudiest night-sky-themed pillows you've ever seen. No bedroll, no palette, just a nest that would put those cube pits in trampoline parks to shame. There would be two bird perches for his familiar Medani: one taller one next to his tent and one shorter one under the overhang. The shorter one would have a crow-sized bow-tie hanging from it. Rugs on rugs on the outside area ofc. 3. What would their character quest be titled? Why? (Peri)

This is a hard one! His tav ending involves taking over the Waterdeep arm of the Harpers, so I think his arc would have something to do with that. He'd be pretty bitter about being dropped into another near-apocalyptic mess when dealing with the last one a few years prior was supposed to be a one-time thing. Something-something ptsd in a world that doesn't have the words for that yet, something-something 'once a hero always a hero', something-something the weight of responsibility...he's a planeswalker so I think part of it would be whether he decides to stay on Toril long-term and directly help rebuild the Waterdeep Harpers or if he continues to run travel around afterwards, so maybe The Far Traveller/The Far Walker?

Harpson/Fae-son are also potential options. "Fae-son" nods to him being a changeling without it being super obvious (like Astarion's "The Pale Elf"). It would also mimic his backstory reveals from RoT ("oh he's not 'from here' so, like, the Feywild" -> "OH he's not from here"). 7. Describe their arc. How would a player help resolve it? What choices can be made? Can your Tav be turned down a dark path, or pulled to a lighter one? (Diodore)

Buckle up because we're in for a long one here. I've thought about Dora's story arc a lot because she's the first of my tavs that I truly made for the game while having full control over her backstory, etc. (versus Corentin, who had their arc baked into the story as a durge). Dora's a paladin of Corellon (oath of ancients) and her story arc as a companion would have to do with whether or not she should accept capital-r-Redemption, the process by which a drow can be truly "freed" from Lolth and rejoin the ranks of the rest of elven society. It involves all of the Redeemed drow's memories being erased and them being reincarnated as a surface elf. The implication seems to be that without that, regardless of a drow's actions, they'd be thrown back to Lolth when they die? Or at least that their eternal fate is unknown (which is the way I prefer to think of it for. personal reasons). Under normal circumstances, Dora would be a long way from Redemption being presented to her at all (she's not even 200 yet and has only been on the surface for a couple decades), but like with the other gods' Chosen among the companions, near-apocalyptic circumstances tend to speed up those sorts of things.

Of course, you'd have the themes of faith & relationship with deity when they're all unequivocally real and are also mostly all assholes; maintaining or breaking generational cycles; facing the unknown; morality when none of your choices are "good" (and how that interacts with morality vs self preservation); power vs freedom; identity outside of the people who made you; etc. The choice would first be presented to her sometime in late Act I/early Act II, likely the first long rest after the group resurfaces from the Underdark and you've probably gotten some of her backstory already. I have no idea how Larian would have characterized Corellon, but he's considered one of the more benevolent/open-minded deities iirc, which could be interesting to see contrasted with Mystra, Vlaa'kith, and Shar. How much that open-mindedness would extend to a drow, even one who has been a faithful follower even before she escaped to the Surface (and who inherited that faith from her father), is unclear. At the beginning of the game she would be leaning towards accepting Redemption, despite her own misgivings about whether or not she would still be her in that case.

Her final decision (at the ending pier scene) would depend on the relationship she has with the PC and the other companions. Her best ending, imo, would be her not accepting Redemption but continuing to be a force for good. If she has a good relationship with the PC, she would have something to lose. I think seeing the House of Mourning would affect her too. After all, the thing Corellon is offering to her as a way to find peace is the same thing the Sharrans are using as a way to manipulate and control others.

She's viscerally aware of how she was socialized and very actively chooses "good", so pushing her towards a darker path would be incredibly difficult but not impossible. If you side with the goblins she'll leave immediately, and turn on you if she's in your party when you attack the grove. But if you decide to try and control the cult in Act II, depending on your over-all actions before then and how you've interacted with her, you could disillusion her to the point of convincing her to break her oath. That path would entail convincing her that controlling the cult is actually the best idea. I'm sure there would be other times that her oath could break that wouldn't necessarily lock her into an "evil" path, especially with how Oathbreakers are handled in the game. Knocking out Minthara instead of killing her outright and letting Auntie Ethel go in Act I instead of killing her are two things that come to mind.

If she doesn't choose Redemption she would be at the epilogue party, of course. I'm a bit undecided on what would happen if she does choose Redemption. She may not be there at all, w/ Jaheira, Halsin, Minthara, and/or Astarion mentioning running into her in her new, reincarnated state. Or she would be there, confused, and mention how the PC seems familiar in a way she can't quite place. In that case, she would ask them how they know each other and mention something about feeling a twinge of grief looking at everyone, but that she doesn't know why she feels that way. It would be up to the PC how much they tell her (if they tell her anything at all).

[ihavetoomuchhomeworkforthis]

So I found this old assignment from 9th grade that I never got past the rough draft/planning stages of jshdhsikfff XD

Ok fine so do star trek romeo and juliet

The story takes place on some random non-specific ship in starfleet, (not the Enterprise, Voyager, or any or the important ones actually in a series) 

Romeo can be cardassian, juliet can be bajoran, or the other way around but this is because those two species are against each other, paris can just be human because we don’t know that much about his character, rosaline is vulcan because she’s logical and doesn’t want anything to do with romeo romantically, friar lawrence can be vulcan too because logical, or maybe he can be betazoid because of how he always seems to understand the situation (telepathy), or he can be trill because of how old and wise he is (experience of several lifetimes) OR Friar Lawrence could be El-Aurian (because Guinan)- Yes friar Lawrence IS Guinan hahahah. tybalt can be romulan or klingon because he’s really angry, Lord Capulet should be Ferengi, but that doesn’t work if juliet is bajoran, so I guess he can be some sort of stepfather/caretaker, maybe lady capulet (bajoran like juliet) is a widow, lost her husband to the occupation after Juliet was born and got into the federation at first as a refugee, (extra reason for them all to be against cardassians) and then lord capulet the ferengi seduced her somehow I guess (because he’s quark and he saw she had a daughter (juliet) and he wanted to take advantage of that because he wanted to eventually marry juliet off to somebody for the profit, plus maybe he wanted lady capulet (bajoran) to massage his ears because… ferengi) and she joined starfleet, benvolio and mercutio can be human because we don’t have very many humans yet. Nurse is betazoid because of how caring she is for Juliet, plus she’s really bawdy like Deanna Troi's mom.

Romeo and juliet meet like they did in the story at a masked party/ball, (because otherwise they’d recognise each other’s species), and then Romeo being the romantic convinces her that they should take off their masks together so he can kiss her or something, which she agrees to I guess, and then they recoil because oh my gosh he’s a cardassian evil guy blah blah blah, and oh my gosh she’s so much younger and that’s not right, and also she’s bajoran and it’s just wrong and she’s going to immediately stereotype me as evil and hate me oh no, so then they both go crying to the nurse and mercutio/benvolio respectively

The nurse is the ship’s counselor and very reasonable so she kindly tells juliet to get over herself because she literally just met romeo and she shouldn’t worry about it, and then they proceed to have a tearful conversation about feelings

Mercutio and benvolio both have pretty much the exact same conversation with romeo, telling him he’s known juliet for all of 5 minutes and to find another lady because she’s underage and bajoran and please don’t take this personally but she’s never going to like a cardassian and also what happened to rosaline?? blah blah blah, and then romeo proceeds to cry and tell them about feelings too.

Friar Lawrence is the bartender because he’s Guinan, so he doesn’t hear what’s going on (too far away) but he sees everything and thinks Romeo’s a fool but it would be cute if Juliet weren’t getting married to Paris

It needs something that makes the story not exactly the same other than the setting, some kind of plot twist to take the story away from the original plot, so

The ship gets attacked in the middle of the party, interrupting the feelings conversation

The party is a pre-party thing for Juliet’s marriage to Paris and she doesn’t want to be married but lord capulet/quark made her do it before she met Romeo and so now she’s extra conflicted because she doesn’t like Paris but she wants to be respectful to her parents so she felt like she didn’t have a choice so she consented to the marriage but not really it’s just because she didn’t know how to stand up for herself so she’s going to get married to Paris in a few hours but she just met Romeo, who’s a cardassian, and she’s afraid that she’s fallen in love with him, but she can’t do that because of her obligation to her parents and to Paris, who doesn’t seem terrible but she doesn’t really know him very well (lord capulet’s managed to convince everyone otherwise), plus also the whole thing about cardassians.

So the party ends, everyone goes and does whatever for a few hours, then to their quarters to get changed for the actual wedding, and this time focuses on everybody’s thoughts, which is a ton of mostly everyone having internal conflict.

Juliet: more conflict about respect to parents (marry paris) vs feelings (romeo being a nice guy she talked to for a while but he’s cardassian and also not Paris)

Romeo: pre established conflict of his feelings for juliet vs mercutio and benvolio’s arguments against it (also he doesn’t know juliet is the person he met or that she’s getting married to paris because he was just showing up for the fun of the party and the food, so he doesn’t have that conflict yet)

Lord Capulet: excited about the bride-price he’s going to get from Paris after a lot of negotiating and lying to him about Ferengi customs

Paris: NOT having doubts about this whole marriage thing because he’s the antagonist and he wants to be married to Juliet because he’s evil and a creep who wants to take advantage of her and so far he’s just played nice around Juliet to keep the marriage on. 

Nurse: Sensing the malicious intentions from Paris, and becoming a little worried, but changes her mind and tells herself she was just being silly, he’s a fine young man and she’s just excited about the wedding

Lady Capulet: totally been manipulated and lied to by Lord Capulet, she feels like there’s something off about everything but doesn’t want to speak up because she’s been drawn into the Ferengi belief that women are useless and nothing and inferior to men, and that if she doesn’t let Lord Capulet marry off her daughter, he won’t protect her anymore, and she won’t be able to fend for herself because she’s just a woman, no way could she get a job or anything without his help, and of course it’s probably just fine for Juliet to get married… right? She’s only 13… but she’s almost 14, so… it’s still not okay but it’s not like they have a choice? Lord Capulet’s been gaslighting her and it’s all very wrong.

Friar Lawrence: Not really thinking much or being conflicted, just pleasantly humming to himself as he cleans up the room after the party and starts getting everything set up for the wedding. He’s not sure about the morality of what’s going on, but so far as he’s concerned, all those short-lived species can figure out their own problems and everything will turn out alright in the end. If one of them is worried or needs advice they can come ask, but so long as everyone seems relatively fine, it isn’t really his business is it?

Benvolio and Mercutio: laughing about Romeo and his lovesick heart in their quarters, playfully making bets on how long it’ll be before he sees another pretty lady and forgets “that bajoran girl” just generally making fun of Romeo and stuff.

Rosaline: She’s going to be Juliet’s hero. Vulcans are logical and they suppress emotion, she wasn’t “having fun” at the party, she was analyzing all the situations and talking to people in a “friendly” manner to gather some final tidbits of information. Because Rosaline has been noticing little wrong things everywhere for a while. Lord Capulet says that Juliet and Paris are totally in love, can’t wait to be married, best friends, but has she seen them hanging out together? Never. Why is Lady Capulet so reserved and nervous all the time around Lord Capulet? Also suspicious. Paris is in his 20s while Juliet’s 13 going on 14?  She read through databases on human versus bajoran maturing, traditions, customs, ages of consent, etc. and that most certainly isn’t right either. Rosaline has come to the conclusion that whatever this marriage is, it shouldn’t be happening, and she’s going to try to rescue Juliet because all her logic points to that being the right thing to do.

Rosaline goes to Juliet and convinces Juliet to go on a walk with her, “calm the nerves before the big moment,” but actually wants to talk about everything with Juliet so they can make a plan for how to avoid her getting married to Paris. They end up talking about Romeo, and Rosaline advises Juliet that “he was in love with me yesterday, if you like him then fine by me, but take it slow and make sure he won’t run off with the next pretty girl he sees before you set your heart on him, the young man’s a fool.”

So far, Rosaline’s plan for avoiding the marriage is to have Rosaline pretend to be Juliet (like Thor pretending to be Freya) because Rosaline can keep a clearer head in the moment and can explain all of what she believes to be going on to the audience, and make sure none of the blame goes on to Juliet or Lady Capulet. While Rosaline does that, Juliet can hide somewhere else on the ship with a com link to Rosaline so she can hear what’s going on, and if it somehow backfires horribly, well they’ll figure that out in the moment and Rosaline will protect Juliet. Juliet isn’t sure about this idea, but right now there’s not enough time to think up a whole new plan. (Later: right when the “I do-s” are supposed to happen and Rosaline throws back the veil to begin her monologue, Tybalt attacks the ship and everything is put on hold to address that issue, leaving everyone wondering what’s going on. After they defeat him diplomatically or whatever, they decide to restart the wedding, and this time, Juliet steps up and adresses Paris directly and then Lord Capulet and stands up for herself and it’s all very well and good, but then there’s the aftermath to deal with– she stood up for herself in front of everyone, but what about later, when she might be alone?) the captain of the ship (hmm… the captain is the Prince, and he’s human because eh) […unfinished…]

Meanwhile at the end of the original party, Romeo learns from Friar Lawrence that Juliet is the lady he’s fallen in love with, and that she’s the one getting married to Paris. He runs off to Mercutio and Benvolio (again) accidentally catches them kissing (this is an older ship, sometimes the door system is faulty and allows people into the quarters without verbal confirmation from those inside, you need to explain that BEFORE this scene though) but he’s really oblivious and ignores that/doesn’t realize and just brushes it off without a thought and goes on to complain about stuff to them. (this is a comedic use of the faulty doors, you need a plot-central use of faulty doors at some later point)

[yaymiyas]

ISEKAI!YANDERE!CROWN PRINCE INTRODUCTION

warning: female reader, his name is saer…just so you can follow a bit lol, isekai lol

a/n: it’s structured a bit differently than my other introductions, do note that yes this is x reader but you had gotten isekai’d into a novel so….i do say her name but…..you’re also you…..if that makes sense, also he is hardly in it but its like….an introduction to the story bc its…an isekai and i needed to layout how i wanted everything to be

its not like you didn’t realize something was up. bright white lights blind you right when you open your eyes. maids coming in and out, calling you ‘miss’ and telling you not to sit up because ‘it will harm you even more’. granted, you were very thankful for their words because, around ten minutes before they came in, you attempted to sit up and gave yourself a headache. even though nobody was explaining anything, you remained quiet, trying to gather as much information from the surrounding maids as possible. the red-haired one with tight curls and an everlasting smile was amanda. she seemed to like you much, more than the other two, and tended to you more carefully. maybe she was your personal maid,or maybe she was just good at her job, but she never let up and called you your ‘name’.

admittedly, none of the other two maids called you your ‘name’ either. it was all just ma’am or miss from them. you just expected a hint of your identity from amanda, based solely on her care for you. selfish? maybe but you needed more hints. the other maids are named cynthia and tilly. the former of the two had long black hair slicked into a low bun, with a small maids hair on top to finish the look. it was a cute detail, if you must say, since the other two didn’t wear them. cynthia hardly spoke above a shout, coming off as more soft-spoken than the other two. she wasn’t really rude, nor did she have an attitude while tending to you, but she wore an expression of indifference that made you think she would rather do anything else.

tilly, on the other hand, was more bold than the other two. still not outwardly rude, but she tested your patience a few times. the main one that got to you though, was when she was rubbing your face. while she was washing off your face with the washcloth, she rubbed against your cheeks too hard, and upon this ‘realization’ she gave you a malevolent grin. her thin lips formed an o shape, mimicking the action of saying ‘oops’. luckily, it seemed as if amanda and cynthia didn’t really care for this ‘prank’ of hers. they both scoffed in disgust, continuing to pick out outfits for me to wear for the day ahead.

a soft but stern knock was heard at the door, revealing a man with black slick back hair and yellow eyes to put the look all together. he reminded you of those webtoon male leads that were cold but female audiences loved. being a sucker for those types, you raised your neck up, making sure to keep your body in the same supine position. the man standing at the foot of your bed looked down at you with an expression that you couldn’t read. an expression that wasn’t scary but wasnt welcoming. tapping along the footboard of the bed, he let out a low sigh out that resembled a growl and turned around to leave. tilly, amanda, and cynthia didn’t acknowledge the man. neither did he to them. the only thing that could resemble an interaction between the four of them was when tilly and amanda gave small bows and the slight side eye cynthia gave before going back inside your closet to look for something.

“madam,”

thats a new one.

“lord saer would like you to have breakfast with him today.”

lifting your head enough to turn your focus towards amanda, you started to guess your facial expression was a bit too expressive because amanda started to giggle. the pain in your body wasn’t really high; it was more the numbness that bothered you. moving your neck and head didn’t really take much strength, it was attempting to move your legs that was the problem. walking towards you in a shift movement, amanda placed the rich, deep purple hair piece down on top of the dress set she had picked out for you. upon arrival, she softly removed your blanket and shifted your body into a sitting position. you felt like a doll.

“okay now miss, i will be lifting you up to wash you now.”

placing her right arm underneath the backs of your knees and her left arm supporting your neck, she quickly moved you to the area you’re assuming was the bathroom. the door to the large room was already open, since once she had lifted you up, cynthia had pushed the door open and walked in herself. the room was massive, twice the size of a normal person’s kitchen. the walls and floor tiles were both the same shade of pale pink, matching the sleeping set you had on. amanda sat you down in a chair and started to strip you down. while she was doing that, the other was running the bath water and testing if it was safe enough. every time the water was a bit too hot or too cold, you saw cynthia’s eyes squeeze shut.

“alright madam edina,”

cynthia sighed, standing up from the clam shaped tub.

“it’s all set for you. please do not make it hard as you have always done.”

not sparing you even a small look, she and amanda were already picking you up and guiding you into the tub. quietly instructing you to lay back, wet, cold liquid found its way both on your scalp and on your legs. edina? are you sure thats what she said? the only edina you knew of was the villainess from the hit novel “obsession falls”. you never really read the book, but you knew of the characters and the content that surrounded it. it was rather controversial for how obsessive and dangerous the male lead was. he had stalked the female lead for years, and it didn’t stop once he got married. with a wife so dismissive and uninterested, the male lead was given all the time in the world to go hunt his prey.

unfortunately for him, once edina randomly started to care about what her husband was doing during the day he had to slowly stop. losing the love of his life to the second male lead, alastair. due to this very random string of events, saer had grown irritated by the events his wife was clumsily stringing together. he then decided to take care of his wife, edina. the night before he was to go and kill alastair, he had poisoned the dinner he had helped make for his wife. from your memory, this was one of the few times in years he had asked his wife to sit at the table and eat with him. she would usually just take her food into her room separately. this night, edina came into the dining room with her most expensive jewelry and dress. she thought this was the night her husband was going to admit his faults and leave the female lead for her. however, what actually ended up happening was that the moment she took a bite out of her steak, her vision went black and her head banged on the table.

focusing on the soft brushes of your hair, you start to put the pieces together. you don’t remember the faces of any of the characters in the story, you just remember the basic blot and conflict. if what cynthia said was true, that you are in fact edina tudor gwynn then that means the reasoning for your stiff body was because of your ‘husband’ trying to kill you. sharply sucking in some air, you seek strength within your legs. even though the lower half of your body was still partially numbed, the feeling of pins and needles filled the tip of your toes to the back of your knees. not wanting to cause much of a scene, even though you were sure she wouldn’t care much, you looked up to check to see if your maid was paying you any mind. cynthia was too focused on rinsing your body, while amanda stopped brushing your hair to grab towels for you.

“cynthia,”

it was amazing how you could even get that out. due to the affects of the poison, your throat had become overly dry and it hurt you to even swallow. that was mainly one of the reasons as to why you hardly spoke to them this morning. stopping in her tracks, she lazily turned her head into your direction. the woman didn’t have much of any emotion on her face. her eyelids halfway down, making it appear that she was tired or just bored. her lips were in a thin line. you had hardly seen her smile or really speak, so you started to believe this was just how her resting face looked like.

“why did he poison me?”

tilting her head a bit, cynthia’s facial expression changed. it was as if your question intrigued her. her low eyelids raised a bit, along side her eyebrows, as she tried to tame the smile that was creeping on her thin lips. this was the most expressive you have ever seen her. she began to part her lips when amanda came back through the door with the towels.

“perhaps this conversation will need to be revisited, my lady.”

[hazelfoureyes]

Luck (Alastor x Reader smut)

Tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x reader, smut, creampie, attempted kidnapping, justified homicide, mention of the the history of women stabbing men with hat pins, biting, breeding kink if you squint, blood, Luci left on read :(, protective Alastor, cervix bullying, possessive Alastor, outside sex, rough sex, fem reader

minors DNI

This was a two part story, this being part two. But part one just isn’t good enough and I’m tired of waiting lol so here’s the standalone smut, written in a way it can be enjoyed solo

Vox’s ever present eyes noticed a reoccurring face around Alastor, and decided you were an easy way to get under his skin. Alastor manages to find you during the kidnapping but how he finds you sends his gentlemanly resolve unraveling. He had wanted to be gentle, he really had. C’est la vie, hm?

It took nearly 2 months of regular run-ins around Cannibal Town, chats over black coffee and deviled eggs, and some behind the scenes magic by Rosie but you finally enjoyed a dinner with the Radio Demon.

He’d never tell you how he awoke nightly in a panicked sweat, dreams of your soft skin under his nails tormenting him. He had done his absolute best to be just a charming southerner, tiptoeing between flirtatious and polite. Something about asking someone out during the night seemed scandalous and … loaded with implications. But ever since his hands felt your body thrumming beside him during a dance at Rosie’s Birthday Bash in the town square, he felt starved for the opportunity to see you again. You were beautiful in the daylight, yes. But something about the night, the way the shadows seemed to blanket the two of you together, it made him feel wild. He could remember the nights on the prowl during his time on earth, and the rush of being so close to you with so few people around felt so similar.

Rarely did he get a rush of adrenaline anymore, but when you’d shoot a witty retort back at him his heart would balloon against his ribs. The way you looked at him while he spoke, like you were drunk on the sound of his voice, made his fingers tremble. He never wanted anyone to know this, and hoped in some way he’d never have to tell. But then he considered, what face would you make if you ever reached over for his hand across the table? What if you rested your delicate head against this chest and heard the frantic beating? How sweetly would you smile? Smile at him, only?

“Alastor?” You broke him from his trance, noticing the ever so subtle way his smile seemed to loosen around the edges when he was lost in thought.

Dinner was long done, and you’d both managed to stall for a bit as he walked you toward the gates to Cannibal Town. He had insisted he escort you, though he was irked you wouldn’t allow him to wait until your ride had arrived.

If he knew you were staying with Lucifer Morningstar, he’d see you differently somehow. You didn’t want Alastor to think you were chasing powerful men, or to know you slept so close to the King of Hell. Something in your gut said he would find it unattractive.

“Yes, dear?”

You gestured to the gates a couple blocks in front of you, “This is good. You should get home.” Before Luci arrives to take me back to his.

“I intended to take you to the gates.” He looked past you, then back to you. You were so … small in front of him. Not your body or form, just, your existence. So delicate compared to his own strength. The way you looked up at him with your large doe eyes, it practically pained him. You looked so innocent, pure— how he wanted to make your eyes roll as your head lost any semblance of coherent thought. He wanted to corrupt you from the inside out.

“It’s just a couple of blocks.” He lifted his hand to begin to argue, but you cut him off at the head. “Alastor” you said it so softly now, your tone startling him with its gentleness. Had anyone, ever, said his name so sweetly? Since his mother, atleast?

“May I?” You tapped your cheek. His eyebrows rose before knitting together in understanding.

He leaned down and turned his cheek to you. You hummed happily and placed a chaste kiss there. Alastor turned his face toward yours, “In the future, You don’t have to ask for permission, darling.” You tried your best to keep your heart in your chest, and nodded. It was well known he wasn’t fond of physical touch, let alone unexpected touch. Is this how it felt to be an overlord? To claim a piece of someone else, a slice of territory not originally yours? “Two blocks is quite a deal of distance in hell.” He didn’t take his eyes off yours. Your attempt to distract him failed. Of course it did, he was nothing if not persistent.

“I have my weapon.” You lifted the hem of your dress to show a small angelic dagger holstered to your thigh.

“Ah, yes. Ha ha! Some kind of hat pin, I see” His eyes rolled, amused, “Who would dare bother you with such a frightening needle?”

With a glare, you mocked him, “Ha, Ha.” But as you turned to leave you stopped yourself. Every encounter with Alastor felt like it could be your last, as if he’d just disappear entirely. “May I see you tomorrow? I was going to get coffee at Hallowed Grounds around 10.”

“My dear, you couldn’t stop me.” He cooed, “Needle and all.”

“Good night, Alastor”

“Good night.” He didn’t move at first, but after you had made it half way to the gates of what he felt was assured safety, he let himself turn and leave.

His grin touched his ears as he hummed to himself. His cheek felt heavier where you’d kissed him. A part of you lingering with him. How he wanted nothing more than to grab you by the throat and -

An appliance store window filled with various sized TVs flickered as he walked past. Alastor stopped, ears turned down as he turned on the heels of his feet to face Vox’s cocky stare plastered on every screen.

“Oh, it’s you. Don’t you have a curfew? No TV after 9pm, they say. Rots the brain.” Alastor lifted his hand to inspect his nails. Vox had a witty intro planned, and launched straight into it. He only stopped when Alastor looked back up, “I’m sorry, were you speaking?”

The screens glitched and filled with static before Vox’s face stretched out across them all.

“It’s not my bed time you should be worried about.” Vox crooned. He couldn’t resist the urge to prod Alastor, “Perhaps your new friend should have gone home earlier.”

Just before you reached the gates, you stopped to see if Lucifer had replied about his ETA. Your phone slipped out of your hands as someone pulled you backwards into the narrow alley behind you.

A hand covered your mouth while the other arm was lifting you up by your waist. You kicked your feet uselessly trying to make contact with any thing that would slow your progress into the shadows.

Another man entered now in front of you, “You’ve got a meeting at Vee Tower, babe.”

The sound of an idling car in the back of the alley came into focus. You grabbed your knife and plunged it into the right thigh of the man holding you. He dropped you and you barely managed to scramble to your feet before his hand grabbed you by the hair and threw you against the wall. The force of the impact stunned you but you’d managed to keep the knife in your grip.

You’d been waiting for this. You had let men get the best of you before on earth, too scared of dying if you failed to defend yourself. You weren’t scared now. When you looked back at the man, he was shouting at his partner but you couldn’t understand a word. Your ears were ringing, a combined effect of hitting the wall and your skyrocketing blood pressure.

Your shoes slipped off easily and you pushed yourself from the wall and back into the attempted kidnapper, shoulder first.

Seeing you launch yourself onto his accomplice, the other man booked it out of the alley. It wasn’t worth it. This was supposed to be easier than this.

If he had maybe turned left, he would have made it to safety. But luck was with Alastor when the brute ran straight into him.

Your phone lay on the ground behind the man, who was already backing up when Alastor set his eyes on him.

“I’m going to enjoy this”, Alastor’s voice cracked with a static sting, eyes flickered to red dials against midnight black eyes as his back and neck broke and stretched. The man tripped over himself, but Alastor’s hands tore the man’s upper torso from his body before his ass had time to hit the sidewalk.

There was no time to savor the death, he tossed the man’s head and shoulders into the street before bounding with unnaturally wide strides into the entry of the side street.

Never had he known fear like this. Not when alive, not even close. Not even when Adam nearly bested him. There was a rock in his stomach threatening to drag his heart into the gutter of the Pride Ring as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the alley. Were you still there? Were you still whole?

You hadn’t noticed him at first, not until his massive, looming shadow shrunk across your body. Even then, you hadn’t stopped to realize it wasn’t the other attacker. You continued stabbing the dagger into the man’s throat with both hands until Alastor’s shoe crushed a piece of wayward glass under his step, breaking your concentration. Wild eyes finally tore themselves from the grey flesh of the demon on the floor up to Alastor, still expecting a fight with the man who’d fled.

“Alastor” was all you could squeak out. You were straddling the man by the chest, his throat so thoroughly decimated his head held on by just a few loosened tendons. The white dress you’d worn specially for your dinner was soaked through with blood. Your hands red to the wrists. Your lips and cheeks splattered. Your feet dirty and bare.

You yelped as you were yanked off of the dead man by your chin, Alastor’s large hand holding you off the ground. You were finally eye to eye with your dinner date. For the second time that night you were thrown against the cold brick wall. Alastor’s free hand grabbed yours that still held the knife and repeatedly bashed your fisted hand against the wall until the knife fell from your grip to the street below you. You hadn’t meant to keep it, never meant to brandish it at Alastor. Your survival instinct had overridden your sense.

Perhaps it would have stayed in control, but when Alastor’s hand slipped to your throat and his lips crashed into yours your mind went blank.

He kissed you clumsily, this wasn’t a man in love, or even a man in lust. This wasn’t a man at all. A demon in need was bruising your lips against his teeth. When you didn’t immediately open to receive him, he used his free hand to push at your cheeks and press inward where your bottom jaw naturally met your top. Your mouth was wrenched open, allowing his long and wide tongue to bully your own.

Alastor felt frenzied, the sight of you manically stabbing the already dead attacker momentarily broke him. His sweet little doe, his innocent and gentle darling brutally murdered a man and he got to witness it with his own eyes. He never believed God ever noticed his existence, but the moment he saw you straddling that corpse he felt sure some higher power delivered you to him. Just for him.

Only for him.

Pretense and facade be damned, you were made for him in such a specifically demented way.

He lifted you up, pressing your body against the wall with his own as your legs wrapped around his hips. He didn’t know where to start, he couldn’t keep his hands from trembling as he smeared the blood over your cheek between hurried kisses. His eyes were aglow, keeping your focus on him and only him as they darted around your face taking in every detail, every errant drop of your attacker’s blood.

Alastor buried his head into your collarbone, sucking bruises and nipping cuts into your exposed skin. You could feel the strained erection in his pants, it helped keep you balanced against him and the wall. He seemed to be mindlessly grinding his clothed cock against your core. Your dress had naturally found its way up and over your hips as he let one of his hands cradle your ass.

He had half a mind to rip the dress off of you but as he took a second to look down at your body he knew he wanted to keep it. The dress his love first killed in. Love— before a word that fell weightless from his tongue now sat heavy in his thoughts. He wanted your blood stained dress stuffed in his mouth as his last meal. An ode to your corruption. Maybe you'd understand him now, better than most. Did you enjoy it when you stabbed that man?

Breathing ragged and uneven, he pressed his forehead against yours. His eyes were glowing red, pupils dark black pins.

Did it scare you, when you killed him?

Were you scared now?

He lurched you upward again, hands coming to either side of your head as he pulled back to look at your face properly.

“If you don’t want this, now is your only opportunity to stop me.” He closed his eyes to try and regain an ounce of composure. Perhaps a small human piece of him not wanting to see your face if you denied him this.

With every breath he seemed to be taking in your scent, his hips still gently pushing into you. Your eyes darted to the well lit street just beyond the dark of the alley. You wrapped your arms around his neck, letting your fingers scratch lightly at his undercut. He violently shuddered at the touch.

You shook your head imperceivably to most, “You don’t have to ask me for permission, darling.”

With that, Alastor came completely undone. As his teeth marked your neck with shallow tears, his hand tore the crotch of your panties entirely off, leaving just the lace waistband to slip up your stomach. With the speed of a starving man to his first meal, his cock was free of his pants and rutting against your exposed slit.

The head of his member was pushing against your clit in unpracticed thrusts, slipping between your lips and pressing at your entrance. With a growl he lifted you up more and angled your hips to him. He didn't wait to feel if he was lined up and he sunk into your heat with a single thrust. You winced, clutching onto his shoulders. His eyes saw the pained expression and for a second, just barely, the southern gentleman who tried to walk you home slipped back to the surface. But as quickly as he came, he was lost again as Alastor saw the way your mouth hung open, tongue hanging over your swollen lip.

A static shock nipped at your wrists where they met his neck, "Such a debauched look, mon cher. I haven't even begun to ruin you yet."

A moan slipped past your lips as he brought his mouth to your ear, tugging with his teeth as he thrust back into you. You could feel he hadn't bottomed out yet, but already he was crushing your stomach into your diaphragm. Your chest began to feel hot, a warmth trickling down to your stomach and pooling beneath your belly button.

Ad his breath ghosted along your neck, you could hear it sharply spike with every slam of his hips against yours. Something about seeing him losing composure, hearing him so vulnerable, spurred you to roll your hips against his cock.

"Mmmm," Alastor groaned, "Don't push your luck, dear. Do you know how precarious of a sit-"

You did it again.

He pulled out of you with one motion and flipped you around. Your hands were yanked behind you, the long fingers of one of his own hands intertwined with your wrists. His other hand lifted your knee up and out as he pushed back into you. The new position allowed him to reach deeper than before, and with a burning stretch you felt him finally bottom out. With each thrust, the head of his dick dragged inside of you. The new angle allowed him to smash into your g-spot with every slam into your heat, his balls tightly slapping against your wet cunt.

"I wanted to be gentler with you", He leaned his head against your shoulder, pace quickening. It felt as if your back would snap in half, "But you looked absolutely sinful covered in his blood." His lips grazed your ear as he let go of your wrists, his antlers now large enough to be scraping against the bricks above your head. The loss of him holding you made you lose you balance. Alastor took the opportunity to find your clit with his middle finger.

Biting down on your lip you broke the skin, trying to suppress the moan rising out of you. His hips kept a bruising pace, your ass smacking against his lower stomach with every thrust. You didn't want anyone, anyone to find you getting railed against a wall just outside of cannibal town.

His fingers forced past your lips, you hadn't noticed he was using a shadow tendril to now lift your knee to nearly touch your elbow. Two fingers pressed down on your tongue as his pace impossibly quickened.

You wanted to lick or suck at his digits, do anything to participate in this alleyway fucking, but it became clear Alastor didn't want you to do anything at all. He was lost in the pleasure of your pussy clamping down on him, pushing back against him with every intrusion. He just needed you to exist there around him. He needed you to take him, for your body to welcome the gentle abuse.

The pressure began to build as the reality set in that the Radio Demon was fucking you raw against a wall. You felt your orgasm winding up. The infamous Alastor, the mighty overlord, balls deep in you. So entranced by your cunt he could only groan and hiss against your ear. You could feel every centimeter of him pulling and pushing inside of you, his head smashing your cervix and uterus into your guts.

Your hands began to slip down the wall as your mind started to go fuzzy around the edges. His middle finger strumming at your sensitive clit with a new fervor, his thrusts becoming shallower. The radio in the assailants idling car roared to life, flitting through stations and static wildly as Alastor spoke to you.

"When you orgasm,” His voice crackled against the nape of your neck, "and your cervix lowers to receive my seed,” your knee was dropped as he fucked you flush against the wall, trapping your body there, "I will drown your needy cunt in my cum, darling." His words echoed through the car's radio and off the walls of the alley, volume peaking with a pop as the speakers blew out.

The tickle of his lips along your spine made you shudder, and you went limp as you let your mind go and allowed your body to spasm around him. As your orgasm hit, your stomach muscles cramped and your body tightened around Alastor's cock. He hissed, his hips losing their rhythm for a second as you almost painfully clamped onto him, cunt trying desperately to pull him deeper into you. He needed to slow down or else he’d be pushed into his own release sooner than he planned. As your orgasm waned and your pussy squeezed softly against him again, he renewed the rhythm. Your body had gone entirely slack, your limbs no longer able to receive messages from your brain.

Within seconds, Alastor thrust against you so forcefully you felt the air pressed out of your lungs. He buried himself in you, holding your hips flush against his as you instinctively tried to squirm away. The way you moved against him, tried to flee from his release, only seemed to make his cock jump more inside you. You thought you heard a pained “mine" against your shoulder as his promised seed jerked into your now pliant womb.

He finally stilled, his dick softening in you. You felt your body slide down the wall, feet touching the ground before giving out entirely. You sat, slumped back, and looked to the scene in front of you. Dead demon behind Alastor, your shoes bloodied and tossed around, and your little knife just within reach.

Alastor quickly composed himself, cock returned to his pants and his suit adjusted precisely. You looked up at him, eyes glazed and tear stained. Your dress was wet and ruined, thighs slick with a mix of fluids. Yet he stood there, clean and pretty. Perhaps some of you had soaked into the front of his pants, but you couldn’t be sure.

"I apologize for underestimating you", He took the dagger, lifting your dress to slide it back into its holster. "And for allowing you to leave my sight." He gathered your shoes and wiped the dirt from them against the leg of his pants before gently slipping them back onto your feet. With two large hands under your arms he pulled you up to your feet, legs trembling still. "I promise you it won't happen again. Can you walk, my doe?"

The new name made your cheeks feel hot, funny given the more embarrassing part of this situation was his cum now sliding down your thighs. You nodded weakly, adding, "But-" and glanced to your lap. You squeezed your knees together and looked back at him.

"I fail to see the problem." His head tilted to the side as he lifted your dress with one of his long fingers and watched the milky white liquid slowly inch down your inner leg. "But, I'll find us a taxi. You won't be going home." He guided you by your hands to step over the corpse and into the light of the street.

You clarified, "I won't be going home tonight?"

He summoned his microphone and brought it down with a crack onto your phone, still discarded on the sidewalk. "INCOMING CALL: LUCI" flashing on the screen before it was shattered. He lifted his hand and waved for a passing taxi, turning to you with a soft grin, "Any night, darling."

༻Masterlist༺

[kissforyouu]

...THAT is your boyfriend?

pairing : jungkook x sanrio girl!oc

genre : fluff

warning : mention of drugs , little bit of angst

request : tiktok

a/n : sorry this is rlly short but LONGER drabbles of this story r comingggg js need to get them out of the drafts LOL

unedited.

this is like after about 3 months into their relationship btw!

"padamdam damdamdampadamdam, tupadadadadadamdam..." you speak nonsense, hand around your boyfriend's arm as you scrolled through your phone.

jungkook huffs, giving you the side eye. "what are you even saying?"

"shush, don't say anything." you comment, giving him a small glare and going back to doing whatever you were doing on the phone.

"yes, ma'am."

you both were at the mall shopping, going from aisle to aisle looking for cute clothes. mostly for you. jungkook didn't really care about what he wore. just some dark coloured clothes and a few rings will do for him.

"i was...hmmm...ah! this is what i was looking for earlier." you show your boyfriend your phone which displayed a picture of a plastic figure of cinnamonroll.

"the fuck is that?" he couldn't help but laugh a little, taking the phone from your grasp and zooming into the figure.

"it's cinnamonroll." you give him a sour look. how could he not know!

"i swear, it was pink before." he kisses his teeth, tilting his head to the side, curious about the mysterious bunny (not) figure.

"baby, that was poron. his sister." you correct him. "it's a HE?" jungkook's jaw falls a little, turning to look at you with a shocked expression. yeah. i felt the same when i found out too.

"it's okay. me too. can't believe i was supporting a MAN. but he's really cute, i love him!" you smile. jungkook glances at your face then back at the phone with a small smile forming in the corner of his lips.

"okay, where do we find this guy?" he asks.

"YAY!"

that was before you grabbed his wrist and practically dragged him out of the store.

"mm, jungkook, nooo, it has to be here!" you sigh, going through each of the figures displayed on front. he just hums, not really paying any mind to your misery.

a few minutes pass by and you were still searching for the little guy. at this point, jungkook was getting a little tired. he looks over to you who was crouched down, going through a pile of figures in a basket. he decides to take matters into his own hands and find this little guy for his girlfriend.

so jungkook walks away from you across the store to the cashier, asking for help. he shows a picture of the figure to the cashier, and while he goes through their computer trying to find if he's still in stock, jungkook wonders why you didn't do this first. dumb little girl, he thinks.

"sorry sir, seems like it's out of stock." the cashier speaks. jungkook thanks him, walking back to you. but plot twist! you were gone!

but something catches jungkook's attention. some guy holding your bag outside the store. what?

the corner of his lip twitched upwards, to not to form a smile but rather to form a scowl. what was some rando doing with your bag? he was leaning against the wall with a grin, examining your bag like he owned it.

jungkook walks upto the guy, giving him a tap on the shoulder. the guy turns around to look at him, raising his head up. shortass, jungkook thought.

"why do you have her bag with you?" he points at the bag.

"what? why are you asking?" the guy furrows his eyebrows, his lips twitching up to a sour expression.

"because it's my girlfriend's bag, dumbfuck. where's she?"

girlfriend? the guy scans jungkook from top to bottom. long hair, tatted arms, piercings. y/n can't be possibly be into...that? she can do so much better. the guy looks like he's on drugs. he probably is! he thinks.

"no way y/n's dating a druggy like you." the guy laughs mockingly, clutching onto the purse.

"alright, little man. fuckin tell me where my girl is or i'll pluck your toenails out one by one." he looked as if he was about to beat up the guy then and there, and he probably was too.

"fucking hell, man. god, there she is!" the guy rubs the back of his head, clearly annoyed as he moved away from jungkook. meanwhile, jungkook immediately turns around to see you walking towards both of them with a confused look.

"where were you?" you ask.

"no, where were YOU? and who's this fucker holding your shit?" he points at the guy who's walking towards you. confidently too. as if he knows you better than anyone else. jungkook's jealous, it doesn't take a genius to understand that. angry too. really fucking pissed that this shortass little man is interrupting their date.

before you could answer, the guy cut you off.

"y/n, here's your stuff. and i don't know who this is, but he's—

"i'm her boyfriend, dumbfuck!" jungkook shouts, frustrated.

"is he?" he turns to look at you for confirmation.

"yeah...?" you nod.

"you never told me?" the guy scoffs.

"i don't have to tell you about everything going on in my life?" you frown.

"y/n, he looks like he cheats on you with a different girl every week." the guy comments.

okay no, what the fuck. you're not going to tolerate some meanass comment about your boyfriend. but you also don't want to cause a scene. okay, nevermind—

"the fuck did you just say?" jungkook's clearly offended. but before he could do more, you grab onto his arm and pull him back.

"let's go." you say. he didn't really reply to you, but just gave you a scoff. okay. he's not disagreeing either.

"matheo, i'll talk to you later." you don't even bother giving the guy a smile, but just drag jungkook away.

"what was that all about?" you squeeze his biceps. jungkook pulls his arm away from you, rolling his eyes.

"nothin." he mumbles.

not wanting to continue this topic further, you just nod.

but it's odd. it's been about 30 minutes and jungkook hasn't said anything to you except replying to whatever you tell him. he's also been keeping a small distance from you. what's wrong again. ugh.

"baby, what's wrong?" you look at your boyfriend who was sitting across you mindlessly scrolling on his phone. he raises his head up to take one glance at you but looks back down immediately. instead, he just shakes his head.

"no, i know something's wrong." you protest.

jungkook sighs, placing his phone on the table before finally looking at you.

"you really want me to tell you?" he asks, his expression rather serious. uh oh. you messed up. but fine, you'll take it. you hesitantly nod your head, nervously scratching your skirt with your nails.

"i'm tired of keeping this private. i know you wanted time till you felt like telling people, but it's been 3 months already and we still haven't told a single soul."

oh!

"i don't want to run into guys like that ever again. fucking shortass. you know i care about you and respect your feelings, right? but i just...you know, want to tell people. it's fine if you still wanna wait. but this is just how i feel." he sighs, turning his head to look away.

you couldn't help but pout a little at his confession. you know he's right. it's been 3 months.

"okay. let's tell people. i'm sorry for making you wait that long. and thank you for telling me, gguk." you smile at your boyfriend who's eyes lit up at the mention of you finally publicly posting about your relationship.

"you're sure about this?" he re-checks.

you nod in approval!

"fucking finally. i can beat up every guy who approaches you now."

"okay, no no no no." you laugh, disagreeing COMPLETELY. you knew he wasn't joking either.

ᥫ᭡

taglist: @fungie233 @wintertxt @wheexine @hyunjinswifeee @ohsweetmimosa @canyon-txt

[fathomlessgaze]

perfect: zayne takes solace in hearing the heartbeats of those he loves deeply, which now includes one more little one

all fluff dw, husband!zayne/reader, ~.9k

warnings: reader is pregnant + called a mother, maybe not canon compliant but spoilers about mc's lore and allusions to zayne's lore (mainly myths story + maybe that dawnbreaker anecdote), zayne being a doctor + lots of heartbeat ments but i didnt research so maybe medically inaccurate, i believe in (future) girldad!zayne

an: i haven't written ff in 5ever + didn't edit on top of this so my apologies LOL im just really downbad for this ice man n wanted to write smthn rq

the soft, muffled clinking of keys and the creaking of the front door ruffle your slumber, your eyes slowly fluttering and flickering to the entryway where, sure enough, your husband steps inside. as he catches a glimpse of your, supposedly, sleeping form, a soft grin takes over his features and you think, maybe, you’d like to see where this goes. 

he puts his bag down by the console table and takes off his shoes and you steady your breath, hoping he hasn’t noticed your lingering gaze under your lowered lids. fishing out his stethoscope, he hangs it around his neck as he takes cautious steps towards you, tip toeing to avoid all the creaky spots of the hardwood floors. he’s slow as he lowers himself on the couch, taking a moment to admire your curve of your jaw and the pout of your lips before putting in the earpieces.

zayne really was trying to be careful. he’d taken the metal between the fabric of his jacket, an attempt to reduce the jarring difference between its chill and your warmth, and moved as slowly and quietly as he could as he sat next to your snoozing figure on the sofa.

he watches carefully before his stethoscope finds your heart and its rhythmic beating fills his head. while it isn’t new news, the reminder that the organ that keeps you alive is perfectly well and healthy always brings ease to his own, this time given a physical form through a quiet exhale falling from his lips. clear and strong, not a single hint or vibration of the fragments that used to plague your being, your heart beats in time with his, he’d like to think. he allows his eyes to get misty, a faint smile and chuckle escaping as he tries to wipe the tear that threatens to fall with his free hand. 

he stays like that for a minute more, simply relishing in how far you’ve both come. he remembers that surgery like it was yesterday, with how demanding and long it was, the aches settling in his muscles and bones by the end of it, only to jump head first into the delicate, intensive recovery you needed and he helped you through. and he would do it again and again, if that’s what it would take. 

oh, how your fingers itch to brush the side of his face, cup his cheek in your palm and brush the stray hairs behind his ear. you can always tell when he starts reminiscing, how a moist sheen covers his beautiful eyes, furthering just how precious they are. but before you can move your arm from where it rests on your leg, he’s taking back the chest piece into his palms, holding it gingerly.

with one hand, he gently runs his fingers along your stomach until he finds a spot that causes his eyebrows to raise for the slightest moment, before the stoic expression returns to his face. the now cool metal in his other hand replaces his other hand, and, if it weren’t for the quirk of his lips, the soft smile and endeared look in his eyes, you would’ve been none the wiser to what had happened. he takes in the rhythmic beating in his ears. that’s…your baby, well and healthy and all he could ask for. a small sigh escapes his lips. he could stay here and listen to it for forever. 

maybe you should cut the act.

fluttering your eyes open fully, you meet his tinted cheeks with a coy grin. “what’re you doing?” you ask, feigning innocence. 

he brings his hand to his neck, scratching slightly at the pink-tinged skin before clearing his throat. “i–uh–i thought it would just be nice to see if we could hear her heartbeat yet.” 

you lean forward, biting your lip to stop the knowing smile from escaping as you rest a hand on his shoulder and rub his cheek with your knuckles. “and do you?”

he nods, his rare beam coming to the surface before he kisses your forehead, letting his lips linger. “it’s beautiful and strong, just like her mother.”

before you can reply, he’s removing the ear pieces and fitting the stethoscope around your head, the quiet rhythm now taking over your senses. it’s gentle, delicate, but definitely there and determined. 

“that’s our baby,” you murmur. suddenly emotion washes over you and you rub your eyes with your sleeves. “oh, zayne, it’s lovely.”

he bobs his head, taking one of your hands in his to hold the metal still against you so he can now use his free hands to brush the droplets from your cheeks and wrap you in his arms, snug in his embrace. with a gentle kiss to your temple, he lets out a shuddering breath, not daring to speak before he can stabilize the shakiness in his throat. “it’s perfect.”  

“y’know,” you start, a small laugh escaping as you try to not cry into zayne’s button-up, “this is all i could’ve ever wanted, i think. if you told me when we met as kids this would be my life, i don’t think i would’ve believed you, but this is perfect, just as it is, you, me and her.”

he nuzzles his head against your neck, a quiet agreement taking form as a faint kiss on your shoulder. “this is the life i’ve waited years, forever, for.” he squeezes your frame slightly, holding your closer. “it’s so perfect.”

[1-marigold-1]

An AU thingy that umm, please listen to my ramble I beg you :[

Hello!!! Had this AU in mind for a bit too long decided to dump it all here :] sorry if it's all a bit messy I'm bad at organising those stuff hghghgghg <-- delusional (explanation and story below the images)

So:

I call it the FMN AU [Forget-Me-Not] and it's set in a fantasy world of course, in a great Empire of Heremitaran.

Because of how big the Empire is, it's divided in two, with two rulers: Ren The King of the North known for his bravery, plenty of victories, feared by those outside of his Empire , and the other one in the Sout is ... well... Mumbo.. (yes he's a king because his father died, he sucks at it tho, can't help but be that wet poor cat and not knowing what to do).

And that's when we come in with Grian and Scar.

There's a crown, to be specific, called the Vacivus Halo which is safely kept in Ren's vault , away from the rest of the world. It's the most powerful thing ever known, and Watchers are ready to fight for it against Listeners, who are worshipped by most of north people and Ren himself. The war those two spiecies of angel-gods started over a crown has been going for many centuries and now when Listeners has had it for themselves for so long, Watchers start to fear that they might use it against them to finally get rid of the enemy.

The crown has been under Watchers' control for some time too, that's when they tasked Mumbo's father with protecting it, but he died at war, crown got stolen, landed in Ren's hands and now all they got is Mumbo... They quickly realized that he's definetely not... well.. worthy? So they give the task of getting it back to an orphan living near the palace. He's a poor chicken keeper until he meets one of The Watchers disguised as a snake, asking him for help, the snake promises him everything he wants. So he agrees.

He gets powers such as:

Manipulating others' minds [putting images and memories that never existed before into anyone's head ]. It's his most powerful ability that he uses by just looking into their eyes, yet there's one thing about it: he can't make people forget the things he puts in their heads.

Flight, he has a cape that turns into wings when needed.

He can see what his snake sees whenever he wants, so he can use it to spy on people.

With those abilities he fools everyone at the palace into believing he's Mumbo's new guard and personal assasin, so he can be always close to the ruler who should be visiting the North very soon... he also makes friends with the young king, they get along pretty well.

Meanwhile Scar has a simmiliar story, though he was an assasin and Ren's guard before Listeners chose him. Ren is still in a good shape and probably will still be a good protector of the crown, but they felt like they need more than one If Watchers ever plan on getting the crown back, so they chose Scar by appearing to him as a cat, they wanted to tell him that they are ready to give him anything he wishes for but he was like "KITTY!!!!!!!! HELLO YOU SO CUTE!!" and agreed right away, just to have a scarf that turns into a cat...... he likes cats alright, he's been feeling pretty lonely recently too...

Scar's powers are:

Super speed [he got it with the boots]

Sensitive Hearing

Completely silent walking

He also got his cat [he named it Jellie because it's semi-transparent like a jelly when in not-scarf form lol] that can transform into a tiger like creature sometimes.

Yeah guess what.

They meet. Grian and Scar. They. Meet.

And they uhhh kinda make friends with eachother and don't really think that they might be enemies.

Watchers don't know that Scar is Listeners' servant, and the other way around, Listeners don't know that Grian is Watchers' servant.

Things escalate from here...... and that's where the story starts!

I have plans on making short comics and stories to tell you the lore piece by piece, but be aware that updates won't be very often, I'll try tho!

ASK ABOUT ANYTHING I WILL ANSWER THE QUESTIONS

Also

Just wanted to add that I made this AU long time ago and Jellie is a fundamental thing in it, very important, as much as she was important to all of us, may she rest in peace <3

[puppetwoman17]

Okay so I love all of the cap identity reveal stories. Obviously. The anticipation of the reactions, the fact that someone they’ve known for so long, someone they’ve fought with and laughed with and cried with, is not even half their age…

But what if they NEVER found out? Cap’s identity, I mean.

I don’t mean life just continues on with Billy leading his separate lives. It’s more like(this next part is so fucking drastic lol) the league thinks cap is dead and suffer with the hole he left behind, only to somehow find out he’s alive, and to add fuel to the fire, he’s a young radio host in Fawcett.

The JL( and other heroes if you want) are fighting a being with incredibly powerful magic. I’m not good with the specifics, but it lines up with someone like Lady Blaze. The YJ team are acting as reconnaissance and backup. Everyone’s doing their part, including Cap.

But then something goes wrong. A miscalculation is all it takes for the fight to spin in the villain’s favor. Magic is a fickle thing. One wrong move, and sparks will fly with reckless abandon.

The fight is nearing an end, and it’s clear that almost all the heroes have been rendered useless. They’re either limping up to go again, or unconscious from the strain.

Everyone but Captain Marvel, that is.

To bring an end to the fight, Cap unleashes a powerful stream of magic, something no one has ever seen him pull off. It seems to zap everything out of him. The next thing you know he’s falling, his body slowly disintegrating. He makes it to the floor and smiles at the other heroes, all of whom are crying their hearts out as gold dust replaces him, for divine beings have no blood.

Billy, on the other hand, is fucking pissed. Apparently, Shazam created a failsafe in case something like this happens. He wakes up in the rock, unable to transform. His magic is still there, and with Solomon’s help he learns that his champion form will return after a couple years. For now, he needs to rest his reservoir.

Now, you’d think he would go tell the league, right?

But he’s not so little anymore, and he now knows that him being younger won’t be the only issue. Younger him was only worried about that little tidbit, but in truth, there was no guarantee they would let him stay if they knew he’d been lying so much. If he’d been able to keep his age a secret for so long, what else could he be hiding?

It’s not something he wants to do. The League, the YJ team, the Titans, they’ve all become like a family to him, despite almost all of them(barring the magic heroes) not knowing who he is. But he can’t risk being watched by parental hawks whenever he’s doing his champion work as Billy. He can’t risk them learning about his… circumstances. His crappy uncle, his annoying cousin, his(an oc I created for this post specifically but dw he’s not that important) crooked cop of a younger-older cousin. His living situation, his previous state of malnutrition, and all of his responsibilities. What a nightmare that would be, explaining all of that.

Also, he tries not to sound too cocky in his head, but he’s fairly sure at least a little less than half of the JL would kill for him. Or at least they’d beat someone to a pulp, which is still a pretty big deal.

So, he washes his hands of the JL and the sub teams and handles his champion work(bar fighting now cause his other body needs to regenerate) in his civilian form. It helps that the magic community, all sides of the spectrum, collectively decide not to tell the other heroes that their Champion is alive. They can get really annoying when it comes to their Boy Scout 🙄.

Plot, plot, plot happens. I’m thinking maybe Whiz gets an opportunity to interview JL members and they send their best reporter for the job. Or maybe something happens on the magic spectrum that brings them closer to Billy. Either way, the JL finds out Cap’s identity without Billy knowing and they are PISSED.

Billy has to deal with countless vigilantes, heroes, and teams lounging on his couch trying to goad him into revealing who he is. Either that r they follow him throughout Fawcett. Some people are angry with him, like Conner or either of the Roys. They try to make him angry. They want to see the real Cap, the real Billy(which is stupid cause of course cap isnt a fake persona but they’re too mad to realize).

Others feel betrayed, like Artemis and Wally(I refuse to acknowledge his death). Cap was a best man at the wedding and they really started to look to him as a sort of father figure. In fact, all the younger heroes love how he stood up for them and validated their feelings. To know that so much of their worries were being shouldered by someone who was years younger than them…

And the JL is worse off too. Their coworker, who they trusted and cared for, had been living alone since he was a child. Having to save for scraps until he finally got a home of his own.

The magic users are practically waiting for Billy to blow a fuse at everyone either fussing over him, attempting to make him mad, or following him whenever they felt the need. Mary’s laughing her ass off and Freddy’s smirking because now he can say “I told you so”. Shazam’s shaking his head because he told his damn protege that the champion doesn’t DO teams, but look where they are now.

Teth is honestly ecstatic. Comes to the next higher ups meeting and laughs in Billy’s face.

And Billy? Billy at least hopes he can make some money off of this: Okay but if I let you stay on my couch for the next three hours, that’s gonna cost you.

No no, I’ll let you follow me, but only if you do this one interview.

Maybe just stop trying to make me mad and just talk to me? Like I get you have issues but I already have a shit load of that so…

[cosmicstarlatte]

You ARE The Father! (Obey Me!)

━━━━━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━━━━━

After getting back to the human world you realized you were pregnant. You decided to keep it a secret during your relationship. After having the baby/babies for a few weeks, you finally decide to tell your demon baby daddy.

»Characters: Demon bros // -> [Part 2: Dateables] Now available!

»Tags: Female reader/MC, Unplanned pregnancy, Humor/fluff, Bulleted Style Fic

»Note: Sorry it's kind of long. Also I imagine the babies all heavily resemble their dads. 🥺♡ I might make a part two with Diavolo and Barbatos but they will be short stories. Well, maybe. Lol

Lucifer:

"That's not funny."

Didn't believe you because how could you keep that sort of secret for months from him

You sent him a photo of you holding a very unamused baby boy with black hair and red eyes

The Avatar of Pride has fainted. I repeat, he has fainted

Didn't pack or say anything to his brothers once he woke up, he just bolted out the house to find a magic seal to travel to the human realm

Quickly let Diavolo know why he canceled their meeting whilst on the way to you

He arrived disheveled, man was sweating lol

Anyway he immediately reached for his child and cradled him

His baby's horns and wings popped out!

Barely wanted to talk to you at first, you wounded his pride...Did you think him unfit? Did you think he wouldn't accept?

He would've been there for you no matter what, it pained him that you went through everything alone

Promised to be there from now on

He hugged you and the baby "...I love you two. ♡ Come live with me. You two won't ever be in need."

Dia and Barb visited shortly to see Luci's baby!

His baby slapped everyone in the face at some point

Mammon:

"Ha! That's a good one! I always loved ya sense of humor!"

Really thought it was a joke

You decided to surprise him in person instead

You got permission from Dia to visit

You had only told Lucifer ahead of time about the surprise visit but not why

When you knocked on the door holding the white-haired baby girl Lucifer had to do a double take

"Is this..."

He smiled and excitedly held her for a minute before returning her

"Excuse me" Lucifer said as he closed the door

"MAMMOOOOOOOOON!!!"

yeah the baby started crying

You could hear the loud commotion inside

The door swung open and Mammon stared in shock along with the rest of the family behind him

"YA WERENT JOKING!? GUYS...GUYS!! I'M A DAD!!"

He cuddled his baby girl and gave her so many kisses

You guessed it, the baby sprouted horns and wings after being held by him

Was upset at himself for thinking you were joking

He demanded you move in right away

"Nothin' will break this family. I got ya both! Daddy will take care of y'all! "♡

His baby girl managed to grab his wallet and wouldn't let go

Levi:

"As if..."

Was skeptical...him? A dad? He always thought Mammon or Asmo would be first

He didn't know anything about being a dad but he was getting more excited the more he thought about it

You wouldn't lie to him about that right? RIGHT?

But why didn't you tell him sooner!? He could've been there for support like you always supported him!!

He texted you saying he would be visiting soon

He made a quick phone call to Dia for help getting to the human world

"Yeah let's not tell Lucifer yet heheheh"

He hurriedly grabbed a few figures and collectibles to go pawn off...kids are expensive!

After selling some things he bought some baby stuff and a gift for you...the mother of his child!!

When he finally made it to the human world he cried when he held his own purple-haired baby boy

The baby cried too lmao

The baby shifted into demon form & Levi wailed even more at his beautiful copy+paste baby

Both stopped crying when you played some anime on the tv

"I-I have a ring for you...w-will you marry me? I'll be the best husband and dad I can be!" ♡

He was planning on asking anyway; this just sped things up

He wasn't sure but he thinks his kid was giving him the stink eye when he was taking too much time with you...jealousy!?

Satan:

"You're telling me this now?"

Yeah he was angry

He had a hard time believing it but he knew you wouldn't lie about something like that

After the call, he grew excited and couldn't wait to visit

Told Lucifer what was going on ASAP and he let him go to you

He tried to read as much as he could from parenting books while on the way to you

He brought some gifts and offered to let you nap while he bonded with his daughter

Yeah she shifted into demon form after being held by him

He cooed at her, brushing her blonde hair lightly, remembering his own birth

"Daddy might've been an accident, but you're definitely not. Just a beautiful surprise. ♡"

He would do anything you asked of him, he just wanted to take care of his own little family

"Hey listen to me...I won't ever let you two down. I swear it.♡"

His daughter angrily yanked the new kitty plushie from his hands and smacked him before giggling

Asmo:

"Ahaha...riiight. That's not the first time someone's tried that on me! And triplets!? "

He loved you but that was a weird joke to pull so many months later

Seriously, triplets? You had to be joking!

You were a little hurt but you kind of understood his reaction

Either way you wanted Asmo to meet them and decided to do a surprise visit

You contacted Dia for help and Barb escorted you safely to the Devildom (it was hard moving around with 3 babies!)

You nervously waited with your babies at Dia's castle while they summoned Asmo first before the other brothers

"Lord Diavolo, I'm he-" you heard Asmo gasp

He froze and took in what was in front of him

"You weren't joking!?"

He sobbed and cried out apologies to you, as he tried to figure out how he could pick them all up (sorry only two at a time!)

You handed him the two girls and watched as they shifted into demon form in his arms

Mini Asmos!

He excitedly talked about all the different outfits you could all wear and match as a family

You took one of the baby girls and handed him the boy and watched as he too shifted

"You're my family! My big beautiful family! Papa will make you all proud! I'll work SO hard!♡"

The other brothers happily joined the gathering a few minutes later

Every time someone picked up one of the babies, they were happy and friendly!

Beel:

"Huh? What? What do you mean? ... I'M COMING."

Mixed emotions: Anger for not telling him. Excited that you had his child. Sad that he wasn't there to support you on the journey. Happy overall for his new family.

He wasted no time after you told him, he called on Lucifer to let him go to the human world. His brothers caught wind and wanted to go too.

Teared up when he saw you standing and holding his baby boy, he gave a big soft family hug

Was surprised and excited when his baby shifted into demon form when he held him

It was a mini him!

He was absolutely in love with his new family

"I will give you both everything. No matter what. I will take care of you two, always.♡"

Wouldn't stop doting on you two

Growled when Belphie wanted a turn to hold his baby...he might've been a little too protective

But everyone did get a turn eventually

His baby bit/nibbled everyone at some point

Belphie:

"Twins!? Mine!? When!? You should've said something!"

Was upset you kept it from him. Scared because what if he fails you and them? But was happy to have his own little family

As soon as he hung up, he quickly called Lucifer for help and had Beel accompany to the human world

Freaked out because what do babies need? What did you need? He hurriedly bought ready made baby gift baskets hoping it would help somewhat

Each step towards your place was nerve wracking and exhilarating

Having Beel there soothed him a little so he was thankful

Belphie thought you looked so beautiful standing there holding his twins in little cow print onesies

He nervously held both and teared up when they shifted and they looked so much like him

The baby boy started crying and he freaked out

"Yeah he cries a lot. The girl however is very quiet and sleeps easily."

Belphie hummed a lullaby and soothed his son who rested happily on him.

"This is better than any dream.I will do my best to make you and them proud.That's a promise.♡"

Beel patted his back letting him know he had him and the others

His babies seemed to like cuddling a lot. They really liked holding fingers tightly.

⬦You might also like: MC Feeling Insecure︱Waffle House︱Coconut

*Super long* Authors Note/Ramblings: Moved those notes to my AO3 journal lol

[koqabear]

Hiii congrats on 2k sol obsessed with everything you write!!!!💓 Could I request revisiting emo boy? Like what their relationship is like after and dates and how sex is like? Maybe beomgyu’s band really blows up and he’s quite busy, how does oc respond to this? And with smut? Tysm!!💝

playlist // beomgyu's encore outfit hehe // cont. of hey emo boy!

 “The day of your one-year anniversary with Beomgyu was expected to be spent away from each other— but not if either of you can help it, far too in love to let anything get in the way of you two.”

bassist!beomgyu x fem!reader // wc: 6.6K (everyone stfu rn) // genre: band au, opposites attract trope, established relationship, smut, tooth rotting fluff tbh, MDNI.

warnings: they are in love and it’s fucking GROSS!! barely edited, the two have hella piercings hehe (bg: snake bites, tongue, eyebrow // mc: smiley & nipple piercings) pet names (sweet thing, pretty, etc.) use of the L word bc they are literally obsessed w/ each other.

smut warnings: hard dom! gyu, sub!mc, needy sex sorry 😖, marking, manhandling, dry humping, biting, breast play, possessiveness, unprotected sex, bg picks the mc up, scratching, dacryphilia, dumbification, a lot of kissing lol, degrading, slight praise, fingering, creampie, cum eating…? lmk if i should add anything !

Notes: happy (late) birthday to the fic that’s probably my peak… this story single handedly changed the course of my blog me thinks. thank you to everyone who was just as affected by emo gyu as i was. 

Being in a committed relationship with Choi Beomgyu, bassist of Tomorrow x Together and an absolute unattainable heartthrob, was not very easy. 

It was at first; with their blossoming career, it was more about the music than their looks. Fans were loyal simply because they liked their sound, their message, the way their concerts were filled with such energy and passion it left their hearts beating with adrenaline after— but of course, it’s hard to not notice the absolute eye candy on stage; low-lidded gazes, dark stage lights that barely highlighted their stunning features, and clothing that was just as alluring and flattering as the rest of them; inevitably, their popularity sky-rocketed, for better and for worse. 

Beomgyu was left with more money than he knew what to do with. Most of the time, it was used to spoil you, his pretty girlfriend he brought with him everywhere because he was just too obsessed with you— it made his band members wonder if he simply had attachment issues by how much his world revolved around you. But no, you were just as bad as him; present during rehearsals, always in the studio to cheer them on or give them a second opinion on a new song; it wasn’t long before you ended up befriending the rest of them as well, a tight bond forming simply because of all the things you went through together. 

As unfortunate as it was, they weren’t the only ones forced to bear with negative and hateful encounters from the public; while they had their experiences of being mistreated early in their career, you had to deal with immature or creepy fans that had taken a liking to harass you— inboxes on all social media platforms flooded constantly, your number even leaked once as you were forced to buy a new phone all together from how badly you were being spammed— Beomgyu had been quick to lash out and tell them to leave you alone if they didn’t want a lawsuit on their hands. 

Overtime, they adjusted to their popularity. Schedules slowly became filled to the brim, their dream now a reality as they spent months on tour— and while you were more than happy and proud of them and their flourishing career, it’d be a lie to say it was all one happy and perfect life. 

You hadn’t seen Beomgyu in ages— decades, centuries, eons— in other words, two weeks. 

The band had more interviews and performances than you could keep up with; if they weren’t on some random talk show, they were at a photoshoot, getting interviewed for the next issue of a magazine you’d undoubtedly have on your coffee table the day it came out. Promotions, nights at the studio, it all added up— and before you knew it, your one year anniversary began to creep up, and all hopes to celebrate it properly dwindled down in your heart— but, having him here with you today was enough. 

You didn’t blame Beomgyu; you weren’t angry or upset, because it was simply something neither of you could control. And though it did suck knowing you wouldn’t be able to spend such a meaningful day together, it felt a little better to know that you weren’t the only one hung up on it. 

On the contrary— you think Beomgyu might be handling this worse than you. 

“Baby, baby please,” he cries, refusing to let go of you and cuddling closer to you instead, a mess of tangled limbs and blankets as he cups your face fondly, “pleaaase I know you said I shouldn’t feel bad but please come on tour with us this week, I think I’ll seriously die if you’re not here this time.”

“Gyu, baby, I really shouldn’t—” you say quietly, only to get cut off by his excessive whining and teary eyes. His bottom lip is jutted out in a ridiculous pout, squeezing your cheeks and holding back a smile at the way your lips puff out as a result; you attempt to push him off you, only for him to retaliate by rolling entirely on top of you, a loud squeal escaping you at the feeling of his weight pressing you into the mattress, his stupid face hovering over yours as he continues to plead you quietly. 

“Pleaaseee?” he whines, pressing his flat palms against your cheeks and getting your lips to puff out again; he ignores your half-hearted protests for him to get the fuck off, choosing to punctuate his every word with a kiss instead, his piercings a sharp contrast to his plump lips that crash against you with every word. 

“Please?” kiss. “Won’t you,” kiss. “come with us?” another kiss. 

“Please. Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease—” 

He’s practically suffocating you at this point, refusing to pull away and mumbling the words against your lips, laughs breaking between the two of you as you yell at him to get off, that you can barely breathe with him on top of you; you’re pushing at his shoulders weakly as he continues to tease you, your unabashed laugh contagious as he quickly finds himself smiling as well— he only pulls away once he hears you yell a loud fuck, okay! Hovering over you with bright eyes and a wide grin. 

His arms snake around your waist before he’s rolling over, successfully switching so that you’re the one on top of him— he ignores the loud and exaggerated sigh of relief you let out. 

“It won’t make much of a difference though,” you say quietly, hiding in the crook of his neck as you confess your doubts, “You’ll be too busy and exhausted the whole day, I really don’t want me to be added to your list of concerns.”

You went on tour with him, once— but you learned it was better off to not be anywhere backstage with him during those times, the boy too concerned and constantly doting on you to remain focused; any mistakes he made hitting much harder, a subconscious pressure to be perfect and give his all only trifolded by your presence.

“What? No,” he says immediately, sitting back on his elbows and causing you to look up at him in response; his brows are furrowed and he seems a bit baffled by your comment, shaking his head adamantly to emphasize his point, “I like having you there. I know you like being there, I want you there— I wouldn’t be asking you to come with me if I thought you were a burden.”

He managed to pull out the exact words you were trying to skirt around— your face heats up at his reassurance, much too intimidated by the intensity of his gaze as you bury your face into his chest instead; his chest bounces from the laugh he lets out, flopping onto his back once more and hugging you close, bodies pressed flush against each other and one of his legs thrown around your waist in a childish attempt to pull you even closer. 

“Plus, don’t you wanna visit Europe with me?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice as he feels you nod shyly; he knows just how much you enjoy the travel aspect to his career, constantly asking for pictures or to facetime while he’s gone, “I wanna show you all my favorite spots this time, and not through some glitchy facetime— I wanna spend time with you, sweet thing.”

“Ugh, shut up,” you groan, hitting his chest weakly as he simply laughs at you softly, “you’re so corny.”

“You love it,” he coos, rubbing a soothing hand up and down your back, biting back a smile at the way he can feel your breath even out— you remain silent. Partly because you’re falling asleep from his touch, and partly because he’s right. 

⤬⤬⤬ 

Europe is breathtaking— you’ve never been so grateful for Beomgyu’s stubborn, persistent mind. 

The tour has gone as perfect as always, spending a few days at their shows before you simply resigned to stay at the hotel instead; after seeing that Beomgyu was so distracted trying to look for you during a show that he missed his cue (and played the notes wrong to another song) you found it better to wait for him and see him after instead— ready to help him wind down and relax after another energetic, adrenaline-inducing show. 

Most nights consisted of you practically carrying him to the bathtub; cooing soft reassurance as he whined about how tired and sore he felt, shampooing his hair, massaging his scalp and tense shoulders— most of the time, he’d fall asleep then and there, and it’d be another hassle to wake him up and get him out. You’d lure him out of the tub and wait for him to change into your matching pajamas— hello kitty ones, his idea, not yours—  and greet him in the bed with a warm embrace and lips that peppered kisses all over his face.

It was during these moments you found humor in the contrast of his stage persona to his true self; from his usual attire, chokers and ripped clothes, wardrobe consisting of black and multiple piercings that decorated his ears and face, your thumb brushing over his newest eyebrow piercing fondly— versus the man that slept soundly in your arms now, long hair tied back and cute pink barrettes clipping back his bangs, donned in hot pink fuzzy pajamas— and you’re sure that if his band members saw him like this, they’d never stop teasing him. 

You didn’t have to wait long to confirm that thought; Beomgyu didn’t bother changing as he met up with the others in Yeonjun’s room for breakfast the next morning, tugging you along and remaining unfazed at the way his band members burst out laughing the moment he entered the room— you felt a bit bad at the way you found yourself laughing as well, even more so because you’re the only reason he’s found himself dressed like this. (But again, he was the one who bought these clothes in the first place.)

“Happy anniversary, you two,” Yeonjun muses, smiling at the way you’re the only one who seems to process that, chirping out a cheery thank you! as you proceed to drag Beomgyu to the couch, “I feel bad that we have a concert today, ___. As vomit-inducing as it is seeing you two, you do deserve to spend the day together.”

“It’s okay,” you immediately say, brushing his teasing comment off and holding back a smile at the way Beomgyu is still struggling to gain consciousness, more tired than you thought as he simply stares at his waffles for a moment before finally digging in, “at least he’s spending the day doing something he loves.”

“Gross,” Hueningkai says, scrunching his nose playfully before laughing at the glare you send him, “you two are so mushy, it’s painful.”

The rest of the day leading up to the concert is spent peacefully; once Beomgyu has gained enough coherence to fight back against the member’s jabs, he’s pulling you away to show you new sights and stores he discovered from his previous visits, spoiling you beyond belief and buying anything you look at for a second too long; you end up with more bags than you know what to do with, and Beomgyu refuses to let you carry a single one as he proceeds to take you one of his go-to restaurants, as he told you; saying he’s been wanting to bring you here since the moment he found it, smiling brightly when he sees you enjoying the food as much as he did.

To say he’s reluctant to leave you to go to the concert venue is an understatement; you think he might start crying at any given moment as he stares at you with shining eyes, unable to let go of your hand as he stands by the door of the hotel room— not quite ready to leave yet, but knowing that he must eventually as he chooses to bring you in for another slow, loving kiss instead. 

“Are you sure you’re not coming tonight?” he asks you, trying to hide the sadness in his voice and failing miserably.

“And make you fuck up your setlist? I don’t think so,” you try to joke, only to panic slightly at the way his eyes gloss over; your hand immediately jumps up to cup his face, laughing softly at his expression as he simply pouts at you ridiculously. 

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” you grin, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before you lean over to his ear, voice dropping to nothing but a whisper as you let your lips brush against his ear, “I’ll have a nice surprise for you tonight, so you better give your best show out there, okay?”

The low lilt of your voice is enough to have him perking up immediately; mouth parted slightly as he stares at you, unsure of what else to do but nod pathetically, knowing he won’t be able to control himself if he thinks about what you might have in store for too long. 

With one last chaste kiss, he’s leaving— and only because Soobin was pounding at the door, telling him they’d be late if he didn’t go out this instant— you think he might start crying as he gives you one last pouty glance, waving to you sadly before he slips out the door. 

You’re left alone, the room suddenly much lonelier and quieter than it was a few seconds ago— and you laugh, checking the time and running to your suitcase to get your makeup and outfit for tonight. 

A revealing shirt, a mini-skirt that’s a bit alarmingly short— you’re pulling out a sparkling, pink outfit like it’s nothing, throwing it all on and doing your makeup as you check the time absentmindedly; your phone lights up while you’re in the middle of doing so, and a notification reads that the staff are waiting for you outside to take you to the venue once you’re ready. 

Beomgyu loves performing knowing you’re in the audience more than anything; it’s something he’s made blatant to you, knowing that despite his mistakes, despite his small distractions, his energy always goes out the roof the moment he spots you there. So you knew how distraught Beomgyu would be to hear that you’re not going to the show tonight despite being able to, but the thought of surprising him is much more enticing than you’d like to admit. 

With one last check of your appearance in the mirror, you grab a jacket before you go; Beomgyu’s favorite oversized zip-up, the clothing item a stark contrast to the rest of your feminine and bright attire— and you smile, adjusting the purse on your shoulder before you’re off to the hotel lobby, where the staff are waiting and ready to escort you safely. 

The venue is almost full by the time you get there; you’re escorted straight to your barricade seats front and center, smiling shyly and waving at fans that seem to recognize you; your face feels hot and you walk faster at the way they get excited at the sight of you, not used to the fame that comes with being Beomgyu’s girlfriend— hell, you really don’t know how Beomgyu does it. 

You’re more than relieved once the concert begins, any attention that still lingered on you immediately getting stolen by the boys that appeared on stage; you winced slightly at the loud screams all around you, unable to help the way you eventually joined in— morphing into another fan in the crowd, the venue much too dark for any of the boys to recognize you just yet. 

They looked stunning in their concert outfits; the professional, matching and dark outfits tailored perfectly to each member, intricate with chains and rosaries and pretty layers. Your eyes widen as you watch Beomgyu walk to his position, taking note of his hair that has now been dyed back to black— you hadn’t realized how long it’d gotten until now, the layers framing his face and falling into his eyes as he goes to push back his bangs with a delicate hand. 

There are no introductions tonight— the music begins immediately, loud and abrasive and making the crowd jump along excitedly, screaming the lyrics and reaching out to try and get one of the members to pay attention to them— on the contrary, you try to remain hidden, looking away and bowing your head every time Beomgyu’s gaze sweeps around your area. 

God, you wish Beomgyu didn’t turn into such a ditz whenever he spotted you in the audience— because then you’d be able to enjoy more of their concerts, addicted to the borderline euphoric feeling you get from attending them, only for it to be multiplied as your eyes catch onto your boyfriend performing, your heart pounding against your chest at the sound of his voice ringing out into the venue— a surge of pride and love fills you as a grin spreads on your face, and it isn’t until you notice a member walking around that you’re able to look away from him.

Looking up, you make eye contact with Hueningkai. 

His mischievous smile and raised brows are immediately returned with a violent shake of your head; telling him to not say anything to Beomgyu, rubbing your hands together pleadingly the moment he glances back at the said man— then he turns to you, sending you a playful wink before he’s off to another section, not without sending you one last teasing grin and a wave; you’re glancing at Beomgyu in a panic, unsure if he’s spotted you, only to be relieved at the sight of him too concentrated on playing to even look up at the crowd.

It isn’t until the encore that they’ve all begun to move around, (save for Taehyun and Soobin, bound to their instruments as they’re resigned to simply wave at the crowd when they can) changed into more comfortable outfits during a small intermission— Beomgyu is decked in baggy jeans and an equally baggy shirt, long hair messy and makeup smudged as he walks along the stage, smiling and waving at fans that reach out for him— he plays his bass so effortlessly as he does, truly mesmerizing as he stops a few times to interact with fans; the sight has your heart fluttering hopelessly. 

But the closer he gets, the more you’re buzzing with nervous energy. Gripping onto the barricade tightly, having stood up long ago with the rest of the fans that are eager to get their attention. Beomgyu’s eyes scan through the crowd thoroughly, smiling cutely and returning hearts until he spots you. 

He freezes entirely. 

He’s no longer playing bass— he’s just standing there, in complete shock as he stares at you. You can only muster to give him a sheepish wave, an uncontrollable grin on your face as you laugh at his dumbfounded expression, trying to yell at him to go back to playing. But he doesn’t, and you’re jumping slightly at the way he takes off his bass and jumps off the stage, security frantically following behind as he rushes over to you.

His hands are on your face and he’s pulling you in for a kiss quicker than you can process; you hear the screams of the crowd around you, but Beomgyu’s got you in his hold so tightly that you’re unable to pull away, left to give in and melt against him as he kisses you for a little longer. Your face feels as though it’s on fire by the time he’s pulled away, his own alight entirely with joy as he grins at you, your head still in his hands as he leans against the barricade excitedly— you think he might just jump over it any moment now.

“You’re here?” he says exasperatedly, eyes scanning you frantically as though he were imagining you, “why didn’t you tell me, you should’ve— I would’ve—”

“Beomgyu,” you cut him off, placing your hands over his and laughing at the way he can only stutter stupidly, brushing his hair behind his ear fondly— watching the way his eyes crinkle cutely as he smiles, your own sweeping over the array of piercings that decorate him, hello kitty earrings glinting under the light— and pry his hands off your face, ignoring the pout he sends you as you scold him instead. “Get back on stage!”

Your words seem to snap him out of his reverie; his head is whipping back to look at the stage, at the way his friends can only laugh at him teasingly and yell at him to get back here— the way Yeonjun yells directly into the mic is slightly embarrassing, shrinking at the way all eyes are on you as the man’s words ring out the venue— Beomgyu, get the fuck back here!

He’s only able to leave with one last chaste kiss— the crowd is screaming at the sight, and you’re resisting the urge to cover your face in weak hopes that it could take all this attention off you— but you’ll bear it, especially with the way Beomgyu mouths a cute I love you! before he’s jumping back on stage. 

The poor boy is unable to take his eyes off you for the rest of the night— but on the bright side, there are no missed cues or wrong notes played. He’s just entranced with you for the rest of the encore, his energy seemingly replenished with the way he jams out to the music; mouthing the lyrics even when it’s not his part, maintaining eye-contact with you during songs he knows you’re particularly fond of— and suddenly, the idea of spending his anniversary at a concert isn’t as depressing as it was earlier tonight— because now, he had you by his side. 

⤬⤬⤬

“Beomgyu— Beomgyu please, not here…” you whine, unable to do much but bite your lip and swallow back whines that threaten to escape you, left to Beomgyu’s mercy as he immediately led you to his dressing room after the show— the said man is much too focused on kissing and marking your neck to listen, soft hair brushing against your face as he pulls you flush against him; back pressed against the wall, arched prettily from the way his hands snake around your waist and press your lower half against his— you’re holding back a groan at the way he’s already hopelessly hard against you. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d be coming? Hmmm? Just wanted to be a tease? Was this your little surprise?” he asks, biting at your skin and huffing out a laugh at the whine that escapes you; your hands are gripping onto his shirt tightly, fisting it in your hands and wrinkling the material as he lets his teeth sink slightly near your collarbones, “god, you look so good tonight, you’d really expect me to be able to hold myself back?”

His hands are wandering down your waist; over the swell of your ass, fiddling with the hem of your mini-skirt before he’s venturing under it— feeling the way you shiver against him the moment his hands squeeze at the soft flesh, fingers decorated with rings cold against your skin as he comes back up to kiss you. It’s rough and desperate, lip rings scratching as he kisses you with such hunger it leaves you breathless; he grinds his cock desperately against you, eliciting a small gasp from you and allowing him to slip his tongue inside— the piercing that decorates it scrapes along your mouth, unable to help the way your knees weaken at the feeling of him— his touch is everywhere, leaving you dizzy and lightheaded as you can only melt against him, allowing him to press you flush against the wall with his own body; your miniskirt is riding up along your hips as he situates himself between your legs, panties already a mess as he begins to rut his cock into you. 

“Are you sure you want to wait now, pretty?” he asks, looking down at you with low-lidded and fucked out eyes— he punctuates his words with a particularly harsh thrust, laughing at the way you yelp and tighten your hold on him, “I could stop everything right now, send you back to the hotel like this and make you wait, just like you said— is that what you want?”

Oh, he’s cruel— even more so because you’re left shaking your head no deliriously, your mind fogged with such need that your eyes are glossing over at the very thought of not having Beomgyu inside you right now; your voice is pathetic as you plead Beomgyu to finish what he started, throwing a hand over his shoulder and entangling your fingers into his hair as you pull him back into you— he’s more than eager to return the kiss, tilting his head and pressing himself more against you as a hand reaches down to your thigh; grabbing the back of your knee, guiding you to hook it around his waist as he begins to rut into you mindlessly.

“So cute, my pretty girl,” he mumbles against your lips, eyes trailing down your low-cut top to spot his favorite zip-up, a smile tugging at his lips as he merely sends you a cute smile, “did you miss me that much? Already so needy from a little bit of kissing— god, I love you so much…”

You think he’s mostly talking to himself at this point— spewing nothing but filth as his hands shove your shirt over your chest, grinning as he remains impatient enough to not take off a single item of clothing, choosing to push tug your bra down harshly before he’s swooping down to mark your breasts with a cruel smile.

“Looked so fucking hot out there, just made me wanna take you backstage and fuck you there,” he confesses, listening to the choked whine you let out, his pierced tongue playing with your hardened nipples, leaving them swollen and sensitive. He’s looking up at you with doe eyes that contrast greatly with the way he sticks his tongue out for you, letting you watch the way he circles and toys with the cute jewelry he bought for you earlier today, pulling away with a coy smile and leaving them soaked with his spit— he blows softly on them, watching with tentative eyes as you keen at the feeling. 

“God, you know I’ve been wanting to do this every time I see you at one of our shows? To make sure that everyone that looks at you knows just who,” he rolls his hips into you, nice and slow and letting you feel the length of his cock press against you as you flutter your eyes shut from pleasure, “you’re here for?”

“Fuck, gyu,” you pant out, snaking your hands under his shirt and up his back, grabbing at his shoulders and pulling him into you— as if there’s still space between the two of you, as if you’d die if you weren’t touching him at all times, “‘m only yours, only want you…” 

He’s sneaking a hand down to move your panties to the side, the two of you much too desperate to shed off any layers— and as you listen to the clinking sounds of his belt, undoing his jeans and pulling out his hardened cock, you busy yourself by sucking and biting at his neck, listening to his stuttered breaths as you suck and tease at the joint of his neck, his most sensitive spot as you bite at it playfully— you’re only pulling away at the feeling of Beomgyu grabbing at you hair and tugging you away, letting out a baffled laugh at the satisfied look you give him in return. 

“Want everyone to know you’re mine,” you coo out softly, grinding your pussy slowly against Beomgyu’s tip that teases your entrance, your mouth falling open at the feeling of him mirroring the action, running along your folds and swiping at your clit, “all mine, my pretty boy…”

He laughs fondly against your lips at that— bringing you in for a slow kiss, feeling the way your mind goes blank the moment his tip slowing enters you; he’s swallowing a soft moan from you as he bottoms out slowly, keeping himself deep inside and grinding his hips slowly against yours— and he stays there, a tease like always as he watches your brows furrow and your lips pout, telling him softly to move, to do something.

“Mmmh, all yours,” he mumbles softly, pulling out slowly to let you feel the way every vein runs against your walls, clenching and fluttering against his length as he hisses at the feeling, “I’m yours, belong only to you, fuck…”

He’s not able to keep this agonizingly slow pace up for long— as much as he wants to tease you, to have you crying and pleading for him to fuck you stupid, he isn’t fairing that well himself— so it isn’t long before he’s beginning to snap his hips into you, cock curving and aiming for that spot that has your knees buckling, pretty nails digging into Beomgyu’s shoulders and biting at the skin in order to try to stabilize yourself.

“Such a perfect cunt— fuck, ah, just wanna fill you up, wanna see it dripping down those pretty thighs— stupid fucking skirt can’t hide anything, ugh—” his voice is deep and breathy as he continues to talk into your ear, his hands sliding down to the swell of your ass before he’s holding it there— lifting you up, forcing you to hook your legs around his waist as you’re left to his mercy; his chest is pressed flush against yours as he fucks you, and you can only bury your face into his neck to try and muffle your sounds, the rough way you bounce from his thrusts causing your nails to slip and scratch down his back— he hisses at the feeling, only to be spurred by the stinging sensation it leaves behind. 

“So loud, shit,” he laughs meanly, grinning at the way you only bury your face into him more to try and muffle your sounds, “want everyone to hear you? All the staff, the members— I’m sure they’d like to see what a pretty doll you are for me.”

You shake your head at that— but your body gives you away as your cunt clenches around him pathetically, the wet sounds of skin against skin filling the room and undoubtedly filtering outside— but you remain persistent to keep your moans to yourself, choking back on sounds of pleasure as Beomgyu only begins to fuck you rougher; your silence is a challenge, one he’ll gladly take as he begins to roll his hips into you just the way you like it. 

“Come on pretty, I wanna hear you,” he purrs into your ear, a hand snaking around to rub at your clit while the other remains firm on your ass, “don’t you feel good? I can make you feel even better— so, so so good, just let me hear your cute little sounds.”

You’re playing hard to get. And Beomgyu takes absolute pleasure in it, watching the way you shake and dig your nails into him helplessly, your body being wound up from how good he fucks you; your thighs are sticky and shining from your arousal, poorly concealed pleasure only fueling Beomgyu’s ego further as he reaches up to tug your head out from it’s hiding spot.

He thinks he might just cum on the spot; your makeup is ruined, tears of mascara running down your cheeks as you merely let out soft hiccups of moans, your lips parted and brain completely empty as you stare at him— he smiles at you in return, capturing your lips in another kiss as his hand begins to trail down; toying with your breasts, nimble fingers pinching and rolling your nipples as you jolt and whine into his mouth at the sensation. 

“Gyu— gonna— need to, ah…!” the choked whimpers you let out aren’t enough for Beomgyu, and he only slows down at your request; fresh tears stream down your cheeks as you plead softly, breathy voice barely above a whisper as you whine quietly to keep going, don’t stop, please gyu, pleeaaase…. 

“Hmm? What’s that? I can’t hear you, baby,” he murmurs softly against your lips, slowing to nothing but a grind as he presses himself against you— pelvis grinding against your clit, the feeling making you tremble as you dig your nails into his shoulders once more. “Come on sweet thing, tell me what you need.”

You’re telling him— begging, pleading, breathy whimpers and soft cries escaping you as you roll your hips into him, biting your lip and sighing exasperatedly at the way he simply watches you with dark eyes, slowing down until he’s simply bottomed out inside you. 

“What do you want?” he asks softly, breathy voice intertwined with a lilt so sweet you’d almost think he pities you— and by the way he’s looking at you, he just might, swollen lips caught between his teeth to try and suppress a smile. You’re still weak and quiet as you try to voice your wants, looking at him through wet lashes, a pout on your face as your hands run absentmindedly up and down his back.

“Wanna cum?” he coos, pretty hand reaching down to circle and pinch your clit teasingly, “Want me to fuck you? Fill you up? Hmmm?”

All you can do is nod along to his words stupidly— and obviously, it’s the very last thing your boyfriend wants, abandoning your clit and reaching up to grab your face roughly; fingers digging into your cheeks, forced to look at him as he merely glares at you and speaks through gritted teeth. 

“Tell me,” he says, voice sharp and dangerous as he narrows his eyes, “use your words— or, don’t tell me I’ve fucked you dumb already.”

He’s unhooking one of your legs from his waist at that; you’re stumbling slightly, leg too weak to let you stand as you merely cry at him to wait, bringing him closer to you in fear that he might pull out and leave you like this— his fingers still dig into your cheeks as you speak, drool building up at the corners of your pouty lips as you stutter out exactly what you want— what he wants to hear.

“Want you to fuck me, use me— wanna cum, please,” you cry out, eyes squeezing shut as he shakes your head teasingly, as though to say and what else? “Want you to cum inside, baby please, just wanna feel good—”

You’re rambling at this point. But Beomgyu enjoys it nonetheless, telling you to keep going as he begins to move again; slowly at first, allowing you to feel the drag of his thick cock against your walls as your words become stuttered through weak moans, the sight making your boyfriend laugh as he slowly begins to pick up his pace. 

“Like it when I fuck you like this, yeah?” you’re nodding in confirmation to his words; staring at him with pleading eyes, whimpering a soft harder, faster, that the man is immediately obliging as he coos at the way you yelp at the sensation. “Want it harder? Hmmm? Want me to fuck you ‘till you can’t even walk—? Have to carry you out of here, let everyone see the way your sweet cunt is filled up by me?”

All you can do is nod to his words at this point; whimpering a weak yes, yesyesyes, want you to fill me up, use me, more more please—

Everything crashes down on you unexpectedly; your eyes are shutting tight and you think you might just black out as your orgasm hit you suddenly, cunt squeezing and fluttering around Beomgyu’s cock as he groans at the sensation— he lets you ride it out, cooing soft praise into your ear before he’s pulling you in for another kiss; you’re barely able to kiss him back, moaning into his mouth and letting him do whatever he wants with you.

It isn’t long before he’s cumming inside you as well; you’re so tight he can barely move, your cute whimpers and warm cunt guiding him through it as he fucks into you slowly, making sure none of his release slips out as he continues to fuck you, even after he’s become horribly sensitive. Then he’s still, lips still on yours and arms wrapped tightly around you as though he’s afraid to let you go.

“You okay?” he asks quietly after a moment, still lingering close to you, taking in your appearance with tentative eyes. You nod softly, still attempting to catch your breath as you chest heaves against his; he huffs out a soft laugh, caressing your cheek fondly before he’s going to fix your clothes— your mini-skirt remains up on your hips, his cock still bottomed out inside you as he coos about how good you were for him, caressing any skin he can get his hands on (which is a lot, considering your wardrobe) with a smile.

“Pretty girl, so perfect,” he coos, finally pulling out and tucking himself in before he’s going to fix your clothing; not without slipping his fingers inside your cunt one last time, watching with hungry eyes as you curl into him and cry that you’re sensitive— he’s only satisfied after his cum is left snug in your pussy, smiling darkly at the way he brings his fingers up to your mouth for you to clean— you do it without any hesitation, and Beomgyu swears he might just be getting hard again. 

“Love you so much, thank you for coming to see me today,” he says instead, bringing you in for a warm hug and a loving kiss; you merely hum tiredly in response, hands slipping out from his shirt only to be thrown over his shoulders leisurely.

Your face feels hot the moment he’s trying to get the two of you to leave back for the hotel— because your legs are absolutely not cooperating with you. 

“Holy shit, I was joking about that whole fuck you till you can’t walk thing,” he laughs, only to get cut of by the way you hit him in response— he’s letting out an exaggerated whimper at that, rubbing his arm and telling you sorry, sorry baby, with a cute pout.

“Ugh, I don’t want anyone to see me like this, fuck,” you mourn, only for Beomgyu to pull you into his side firmly, sending you a smile that’s not as reassuring as you wish it was. 

“I’m sure no one will notice,” he says simply, swinging the door open and immediately being met with Soobin passing by. 

He slows down at the sight of you two, glancing at your appearances briefly before he keeps walking. 

“Try to keep it down next time please,” he yells out, turning the corner and disappearing from your sight before you can retaliate. You feel slightly mortified by his words, but Beomgyu isn’t affected in the slightest as he leans over to murmur softly into your ear.

“Should we continue this at the hotel, pretty?”

You don’t answer his question. But he already knows the answer, sending you a giddy smile and intertwining his fingers with yours as he leads you to where the staff car is waiting for you two— and you hold back a smile of your own as you trail (limp, kinda) behind him. It’ll be a long night, but you couldn’t ask for a better way to spend your anniversary, no matter how unconventional it is.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Until Sunrise - A Khal Drogo/Reader One Shot Story.

So I was feeling a certain way about Jason Momoa, and realised that it is absolutely uncalled for that I have not yet written for my favourite character of his! I’ve no idea how alive/dead the GoT fandom is (I’m expecting dead, lol!) but I’ve tagged anyone I can think who might be interested, or because I know whatever form he’s presented in, you like him because he’s Jason motherfucking Momoa. As you should. 

Words - 1,375

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

The moments you lived for; they were only ever fleeting at best. He would send for you, as he always did, picking one of his favourites from the tent of women devoted entirely to keeping the Khal content, eyes that burned with envy following you as you departed, ready for him. They always did.  

Walking over the dried-up terrain, you cast your eyes to the sky, seeing the moon beginning to rise, knowing the silver orb will be glowing fully through the inky night sky by the time he’s done having his way with you. He never allows you to remain until sunrise.  

Entering his tent, you find him standing in wait for you, the splendour of his nakedness appealing as always, approaching with long strides and taking you roughly by the arm, as is Drogo’s way. He rarely shows anything less than dominant claiming, towing you to his bed, making short work of your clothes.  

“How do you want me tonight, my Khal?” you ask, your Dothraki flawless. He does speak the common tongue, much more than he would ever let on, yet you have only ever communicated with him in his own language.  

He takes a moment for contemplation, his finger running along your jawline. “Face down, backside up.” Not surprising. He always prefers to take you from behind. You feel his weight dip the bed behind you, one hand placed at the top of your spine, the other beginning to stroke at you. His hand is oiled, as is his only real consideration for you, that you be slippery enough to sheathe his huge cock. Foreplay is a word unknown to him, in any language.

It is surprising to you, as your folds are parted, that he simply hasn’t done the minimal to wet your walls and swiftly breech you, his fingers touring you, exploring the petal soft flesh of your sex. Those slippery fingertips swirl around, until they reach your little bud, a soft gasp fluttering from your lips, Drogo focusing in on it.

“Good?"

You are confused, pleasantly, though. “Yes, my Khal."

He takes a moment of pause, ceasing the rubbing. “Truly? Or do you just speak this to pacify me?" He leans to you, his breath hot against the back of your neck. “Tell me how you like it.”

You are too scared of sparking his terrifying rage to even question why he cares, only pleasantly surprised that for once, he actually does. “A little softer to begin with, less pressure.” When his fingers begin to circle again, it’s pure bliss, your lips parting on a soft moan. “Just like that, my Khal.”  

He straightens, his dark eyes watching, enchanted by the sight of you spread before him, his fingers quickening a little, dragging them back and forth, offering the same at your entrance, your arousal bathing them. He likes that, the feel of wet silk warming his fingertips, pushing them inside of you, a grumble rattling his throat.  

“Soaking,” he grunts, dragging them back, returning to your aching bud. “You feel beautiful.” It must be different for him, to feel the arousal of a woman, since you can bet he never really has before. He oils each whore, dousing his cock, fucking them until he dances with the stars before they are cast aside, their purpose served. 

Little glimmers skitter over your nerves, pleasure beginning to make you trickle hot for him, Drogo shifting, removing his hand as he crouches behind you, replacing the contact with his tongue.  

“Oh, gods above!” you hiss, the warmth of his mouth stoking your fire, the very first you’ve ever had settle between your legs and indulge you in the hot, flat wet of long, languid licks.  

“Turn.” He demands, his rough hands parting your thighs as soon as you are upon your back, his mouth reconnecting with you, greedy, his beard rubbing against you as he licks at the honey of your cunt. “Still good?”

“Incredible!” you cry, your hands clutching the pelts you lie upon. “Please, do not stop!”

A smirk tilts his full lips, his eyes finding yours over the rise of your breasts, tongue rapidly placing a firm lick over your bud. “She demands of her Khal?”

He sounds more amused than anything, but to hear the tinge of balefulness, of him bringing you back to yourself, you fluster a little. “I... but what I mean to say is... I...”

He moves until his face is above yours, placing a finger to your lips, and a kiss to your throat. “Quiet with your words. No more talking, but you will let me hear how much you enjoy it.” Moving back to your apex, each lick he bestows to you is a rain of celestial decadence, tongue beating over the swell of your clit, the nectar of your arousal soaking his lips as he eats you feverishly, without pause, like a starving wolf would gorge upon the carcass of a deer.  

“Oh, you are divine, my Khal!” you cry, incoherence following as he sucks upon you, cheeks hollowing, his eyes almost black, pupils blown with lust as he grunts against the sopping mess of your cunt, enjoying you in his mouth. That is until he moves to arrow himself into your soaking centre, the many inches of his girthy cock splitting you wide, his mouth closing in a hard suck upon your nipple.

“Drogo,” he breathes, tongue beating over the little stiffened peak. “I want to hear my name upon your lips.” He grasps your jaw, turning your head to face him, eyes homed in upon you in an unbreakable stare.

Your mouths meet in a feverish kiss, a clash of tongues and teeth, your moans spilling from your lips onto his like wine. “You are divine, Drogo.” Taking him is like taking an entire storm within you, Drogo moving to kneel before you, grasping your thighs as his eyes fall to watch his glossy cock daggering into you deeply, an earthy rumble of a groan filling the air.

You are singed upon the heat he drives into you, cool fire flooding your veins, freezing and melting you again right to your very marrow as he pounds into your cunt, evoking your wails, your hands reaching to stroke the wide plane of muscles across his broad chest. The dark of his pubic hair glints in the candlelight, soaked from the dew of your cunt, your eyes falling to view it, to witness how his cock looks as it parts your walls again and again.  

It is a sight you have never beheld before, only ever being taken from behind, your eyes fixated on how sumptuously erotic it is, to watch how good he looks inside of you, his hands beginning to stroke your skin as a bonfire of pure sinful bliss rages between you.  

He moves his hand to your face, thumb dragging over your lips until they part, pushing it into your mouth. “Get it wet.” You meet his simple demand, sucking on it until it is as he requires, Drogo moving it to begin stroking at your clit once more. It’s more than you can handle, and he knows it, smirking down at you once again until his face contorts in bliss, grunting deeply as he gives his cock with keen thrusts, the sounds of your sweaty flesh smacking together filling the tent.  

He moves within you with nothing short of brutal voracity, until you can feel it radiating through you, stars sweeping from the strokes of his thumb as your light begins to shine out over his horizon, your body blooming as you fall apart around him, the fluttering of your cunt dragging his release from him. Thick ropes of cum paint your pulsing walls as he spills into you deep, breathless and spent, pulling from you and resting down on his back.  

You know that this is your cue to get up and leave quietly, yet when you rise, your escape from the bed is halted by a large hand splayed to your chest, Drogo pushing you back down. An arm slides beneath your shoulders, your Khal pulling you against his chest, fingers stroking swirls over your arm.  

"Stay."  

And you do. Until the sun rises.

[ourflagmeansgayrights]

so part of me wants to blame this entirely on wbd, right? bloys said he was cool with the show getting shopped around, so assuming he was telling the truth (not that im abt to start blindly trusting anything a CEO says lol), that means it’s not an hbo problem. and we already know wbd has an awful track record with refusing to sell their properties—altho unlike coyote v acme, s3 of ofmd isn’t a completed work and therefore there isn’t the same tax writeoff incentive to bury the thing. i just can’t see any reason to hold on to ofmd except for worrying about image, bc it would be embarrassing if they let this show go with such a devoted fanbase and recognizable celebrities and it went somewhere else and did really well (which it would undoubtedly do really well, we’ve long since proven that). it feels kinda tinfoil hat of me to making assumptions abt what’s going on in wbd behind the scenes, but i also feel like there are hints that i’m onto something w my suspicions: suddenly cracking down on fan merch on etsy doesn’t seem like something a studio looking to sell their property would bother with, and we know someone was paying to track the viewing stats on ofmd’s bbc airing, which isn’t finished yet, so i’d expect whoever is monitoring that to not make a decision abt buying ofmd until the s2 finale dropped.

but also i think part of me just wants there to be a clear villain in the situation. it’s kinda comforting to have a face to blame, a clear target to shake my fist at. but the truth is that the entire streaming industry is in the shitter. streaming is not pulling in the kind of profit that investors were promised, and we’re seeing the bubble that was propped up w investor money finally start to pop. studios aren’t leaving much room in their budgets for acquiring new properties, and they’re whittling down what they already have. especially w the strikes last year, they’re all penny pinching like hell. and that’s much a much harder thing to rage against than just one studio or one CEO being shitty. that’s disheartening in a way that’s much bigger and more frightening than if there was just one guy to blame.

my guess is that the truth of the situation is probably somewhere in the middle. wbd is following the same shitty pattern they’ve been following since the merger, and it’s just a hard time for anyone trying to get their story picked up by any studio. ofmd is just one of many shows that are unlucky enough to exist at this very unstable time for the tv/streaming industry.

when i think abt it that way, tho, i’m struck by how lucky we are that ofmd even got to exist at all. if the wbd merger had happened a year earlier, or if djenks and tw tried to pitch this show a year later, there’s no way this show would’ve been made. s1 was given the runtime and the creative freedom needed to tell the story the way the showrunners wanted to, and the final product benefited from it so much that it became a huge hit from sheer gay word of mouth. and for all the imperfections with s2—the shorter episode order, the hard 30 minute per episode limit, the last-minute script changes, the finale a butchered mess of the intended creative vision—the team behind ofmd managed to tell a beautiful story despite the uphill battle they undoubtedly were up against. they ended the season with the main characters in a happy place. ed and stede are together, and our last shot of ed isn’t of him sobbing uncontrollably (like i rlly can’t stress enough how much i would have never been able to acknowledge the existence of this show again if s1 was all we got)

like. y’all. we were this close to a world where ofmd never got to exist. for me, at least, the pain of an undue cancellation is worth getting to have this story at all. so rather than taking my comfort in the form of righteous anger at david zaslav or at wbd or at the entire streaming industry as a whole, i’m trying to focus on how lucky i am to get to have the show in the first place.

bc really, even as i’m reeling in grief to know this is the end of the road for ofmd, a part of me still can’t quite wrap my head around that this show is real. a queer romcom about middle-aged men, a rejection of washboard abs and facetuned beauty standards, a masterful deconstruction and criticism of toxic masculinity, well-written female characters who get to shine despite being in a show that is primarily about manhood and masculinity, diverse characters whose stories never center around oppression and bigotry, a casually nonbinary character, violent revenge fantasies against oppressors that are cathartic but at the same time are not what brings the characters healing and joy, a queer found family, a strong theme of anti colonialism throughout the entire show. a diverse writers room that got to use their perspectives and experiences to inform the story. the fact that above all else, this show is about the love story between ed and stede, which means the character arcs, the thoughts, the feelings, the motivations, the backstories, and everything else that make up the characters of ed and stede are given the most focus and the most care.

bc there rlly aren’t a lot of shows where a character like stede—a flamboyant and overtly gay middle-aged man who abandoned his family to live his life authentically—gets to be the main character of a romcom, gets to be the hero who the show is rooting for.

and god, there definitely aren’t a lot of shows where a character like ed—a queer indigenous man who is famous, successful, hyper-competent, who feels trapped by rigid standards of toxic hypermasculinity, who yearns for softness and gentleness and genuine interpersonal connection and vulnerability, whose mental health struggles and suicidal intentions are given such a huge degree of attention and delicate care in their depiction, who messes up and hurts people when he’s in pain but who the show is still endlessly sympathetic towards—gets to exist at all, much less as the romantic lead and the second protagonist of the show.

so fuck the studios, fuck capitalism, fuck everything that brought the show to an end before the story was told all the way through. because the forces that are keeping s3 from being made are the same forces that would’ve seen the entire show canceled before it even began. s3 is canceled, and s2 suffered from studio meddling, but we still won. we got to have this show. we got to have these characters. there’s been so much working against this show from the very beginning but here we are, two years later, lives changed bc despite all odds, ofmd exists. they can’t take that away from us. they can’t make us stop talking abt or stop caring abt this show. i’m gonna be a fan of this show til the day i die, and the studios hate that. they hate that we care about things that don’t fit into their business strategy, they hate that not everyone will blindly consume endless IP reboots and spin-offs and cheap reality tv.

anyway i dont rlly have a neat way to end this post. sorta just rambling abt my feelings. idk, i know this sucks but im not rlly feeling like wallowing in it. i think my gratitude for the show is outweighing my grief and anger, at least for right now. most important thing tho is im not going anywhere. and my love for this show is certainly not fucking going anywhere.

[cherryredstars]

OMG I SAW YOUR REQUEST IS OPEN AND OMG I WANTED TO ASK IF YOU CAN MAKE AN demon!MIGUEL x but Innocent/cute/ werid/quirkFmAngel! Reader (like the demon CAN be also called the spider demon that all work under Miguel eyes😝💅😩)

Reader is a angel that believes that there goodness in any creature that mean Miguel.yea but she doesnt believed in some angel like her ex- boyfriend,reader finally caught her boyfriend cheating while hanging out with the group while eating there ice cream or looking in the heaven village or city idk ??😣😭 ( miles, gwen, and pav and his girlfriend )which when Gwen and hobie and miles was shocked and gasp loudly at something that pulled reader attention and when reader saw it, reader came running away in tear at the sight of it.

and ran away far away from it ,While pav girlfriend with hobie beating his as while gwen is telling hobie that " ENOUGH HOBBIE " while pav is trying to stop his girlfriend from cheering on hobie from SCREAMING at reader ex- boyfriend for making reader spend ALL her time with such a USELESS F ING ANGEL WHO doesnt work FOR SH%T

meanwhile Miguel, is some were in heaven and hell which is what I called is the void or the pocket of both lands and that where Miguel is doing his business(while wearing his spider logo LIKE imagine him wearing an tight suit with some sort of amor ) killing angel and entity\antomty (I forgot the name💀) in his way with Layla of course but only telling him how many are there but that where reader came running away and fall into and also hitting a large rock and managed to hurt one of her wings,badly, which cause her to stare around for any help or tried to see if she know what is this place she flew into, And Miguel was done doing assignments (ahem- killing) amd then see her in such a state that make his heart beat again,

Meanwhile reader is crying not of fear, but she not in fear of the man in front of him.. She finding it sexist (ok I want to make reader weird,or quirky💀😭) ok it not her problem OR FAULT OK it was his aura, big BOTTY OF A ASS that reader probably think she has seen in her life form a boy ✊😝 and his horns,

reader realized she still have tear in her eyes and started wipes her face and getting up from the floor but then the pain of her wings finally came. (And Layla being Layla teleport to Miguel to see if he done with work and see reader on the floor with a broken wing with blood and Layla making an deal or some thing idk to convince him to let her live while saying in a language Spanish but that a ancient towards reader)

NFSW PART THAT J COMPLETED SUCK AT

Let imagine Miguel heat or is just hella intoxicated with a sex drug from layla putting there (putting or idk someone LIKE PETER B ) and left it on his favorite desk( that he like to slam on A LOT JUST FROM THE RETARD THAT HE HAS TO DEAL with work💀 ✊ men got his on TABLET FOR THAT lol) and it crash on the floor and broke and some gas that Miguel was intoxication from of it and went to his own place while reader was petting an demonic cat in his house

Here is a some plot idea for the NFSw part

(Also THIS IDEA WAS INSPIRED BY MANY WEEBTOON STORY AND I WANTED TO mush ALL THESE IDEA INTO ONE SO pls 😭 if I suck AT EXPLAINING THE PART and I wanted to say this but I feel like Miguel be the grump bear person character or big puffy cat person like he wouldnt like anyone touch his horn but when reader ask he let her touch his horn with a pout sound as he lean down 🗣😭✊ also you can make this a fluff/smut any kink will do honestly! THANK YOU bye ❤

Hope you have a great day and time ! (Sorry if this made be a long request but I dont see many people making a demon Miguel like this one and reader as well so yea and I really wanted to people be inspired by this one !!!😇😌🗣

Pairing: Demon!Miguel O’Hara x Angel!fem reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Virgin!Reader, Fluff, Mentions of Cheated on Reader, Slight Corruption Kink, Slight Fingering, Oral Sex, Praise, Penetrative Sex, Mentions of Blood

Summary: Even the devil has a soft spot. 

Word Count: 3.9K (Not Edited)

It had been a gloomy day. 

You had never expected to find your sweet, attentive boyfriend sucking faces with someone else. It had ruffled your delicate feathers and for your wings to curve in with despair. Your friends had tried to pull you away from the scene, the dejection clear on your face as you stared longingly at the man you had given your golden heart to. Their reassuring words floated past you, mind preoccupied on why this could have happened to you. Was it something you did? Were you not enough? Were you missing something?

Later into that day, after numbly reassuring your friends you were alright, you had wandered aimlessly across the angelic city. You were so lost in thought that you had not realized you had taken too many turns out of the city, finding yourself in the Void. So unused to the dark, unfamiliar land, you had stumbled your way around, catching your wings on things you couldn’t see clearly until your body was sore and you had wilted to the ground in a hopeless mess. You were unsure of how long you had laid there, a withering mess of innocent pain before he had sniffed you out. 

From his account of events, he had just been back from one of his sessions of…repentance as he calls it. Even though his suit and dulled armor was splattered with blood, he knew the lingering scent in the air was fresh, more innocent than the kind he had spilt. He had followed the sweet fragrance, finding your helpless form crowded to the ground. You had looked up at him with such shiny eyes, a puffed pout on your lips. Your appearance alone was angelic, his hand itching to reach out and taint your delicate skin. He swore a glowing aura shielded your body, setting you apart from the gloominess of the Void. If not the scent of your blood, the shininess of your glow would attract dark things like him to you. 

You had shrunk back in response to the strong presence he held, not realizing tears had flowed down your face until he commanded you to wipe them away. When he had told you to follow him, you had weakly pushed yourself up, using the sound of shifting armor as your guide through the dark. He had taken you back to the modest cabin, cold and nearly as empty as the world outside. He had left you by yourself, your wings fluttering nervously as you tried to see more than blurred darkness. When he had lit a dim light, you had instantly flocked towards it while he kept his distance. You had crowded around the greenish-yellow flame like a moth, staring at it as if it was as angelic as you were. 

His rough hand was firm around your shoulder blade, pushing you into a seat near the flame. He stood behind you, as if using you to shield him from the light as he bandaged the fracture in your wing quietly. You had sat still, watching the flame dance on the candle wick. The light illuminated your face in a ghastly light, creating intense shadows against the features of your face. When he had pulled away, you turned to look for him, only to be met with pure black. You reached your hand out tentatively, pulling it back when you had met the cold metal of his armor. HIs own hand reached out to you, centimeters away from your face so you could see it. 

Your delicate fingers brushed over the calluses on his hand and in a gravelly voice he had asked you, how pretty, innocent you, found yourself an injured bird in such a dark place. With his adapted eyes, he had seen the darkening of your cheeks and the wounded look in your eyes. You had looked away, a half-hearted excuse of getting lost leaving your plush lips before asking him for his name. 

He answers begrudgingly, a low grumble that you have to strain your ears to catch. You find it only fair to tell him yours in return, and Miguel lets the word circulate into his head until it's fully memorized. The name suits a gentle creature like you he thinks, a soft symphony of syllables that are yours to own. It sounds like church bells and birds chirping, something that's shunned in the Void. The natural greed that fuels his body wants to lock you up and keep you for himself. 

Instead, he shoves the lantern into your hands, a silent demand to follow him as he walks towards the cabin’s entrance again. You two walk through the barren land, your small form following him as you stare at the more clearly defined shapes of the land. When you begin to slow or stray too far, he lets out a slow rumbling noise from his chest that draws you back to him. He doesn’t seem particularly annoyed when he does it, but he isn’t exactly happy about it either.  

You follow him until he stops, your distracted mind almost causing you to crash into him. You peak out from behind him quizzically, holding your lantern up only to find it useless. Even though Migurl stopped a good distance away, the light of the holy city is visible. A delighted smile makes its way onto your face as you look up at him, a silence thanks for his kindness. He doesn't look visibly affected, but his unmoving heart stutters in a single kick. 

You wordlessly walk out from behind him, taking a few steps forward before stopping and running back. His eyebrow raises as you stop right in front of him,a shy smile on your face as you take his hand and wrap it around the lantern’s handle with a soft thank you. You had given his hand a lingering squeeze before turning away from him and walked towards home. You had turned once after crossing out of the Void, eyes searching for a figure and a green glow, but both seemed to have disappeared into the darkness.

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵

Two weeks later, you were surprised to see that green glow in the distance. Based on the height of it, you knew it had to be Miguel. You took a hesitant step into the Void, then another and another until you were getting closer and closer to the light. You had stopped five feet away, close enough for the light to be an arm away, but far enough that you couldn’t see the face you’ve yet to see. It was silent for a long moment before that familiar rumble vibrated in the air. The softest of smiles came over your face as you walked closer, taking the lantern from him when he offered it to you. You lifted your arm up, letting the light travel up his form until you were looking into deep red eyes. 

A stifled gasp had left you, but it held more fascination than fear. Your eyes had drunk in his features, eyes mostly trained between his glowing orbs and the twisted points that spiraled from his soft hair. He had studied you too, eyes flashing at the delicate bow of your lips and the twinkling shine in your eyes. When you lowered the light, you kept your eyes trained to the place of his own eyes as you whispered a hello. He grunted back in response and turned to make way back to the cabin. You never hesitated to follow him back. 

It was in that very cabin that you spent most of your time together. Where the two of you bonded. You sat and talked, Miguel listening as he cleaned his armor or prepared you desserts made from sweet berries and cream that he bought from travelers in anticipation for your frequent visits. The first few visits acted as check ups, Miguel making sure your wing mended and had full capability. Those visits were quick and silent, but they made you anxious for the next one. 

Sometimes, after being too cramped in his cabin, you would ask Miguel to show you around the Void. He always grumbled about it, muttering how the Void was, well, void of anything besides plain terrain and the occasional hut or trading stand. But he had found that there was little he could deny you, something in his body against the idea of rejecting something so bright and lively. He had discovered this trait during an earlier visit where you had asked him in the sweetest tone he had ever heard if you could touch his horns. The disapproval was on the tip of his forked tongue, but seeing the way you had blinked so hopefully up at him only resulted in the bowing of his head as your gentle hands traced the grooves of the foreign keratin. 

On special days, the days where MIguel had no repentance to take care of, he would let you decorate his horns and hair with beads and accessories you had brought over and never took home. He would hold the lantern up for you so you could focus on your work, and he told you in a gruff voice about the more tamer quests he had been on. But those stories were rare and far between, Miguel finding someone as pure as yourself in no need to know about blood and death as he’s known them. But, they were fun to hear even with their heavy censorship and you absorbed every word like gospel. Honestly, you spend more time focusing on the sound of his voice rather than his words. You loved the deep calmness to his speech, wishing you had a way to record it so you could play it over and over in the hours you spent away from him. 

On the really bad days, the days where Miguel had come to fetch you at the border of the Void and the holy city in more blood than usual, he would take you back to the cabin in silence and wash up before pulling you to his sofa and cradling your innocent form to his chest. The both of you would be bathed in darkness, the lantern a far away glow on the dining table as he tried to absorb your good. He would hold your head gently, breathing in your sweet scent as he played with the ends of your hair or flattened the feathers of your wings. It helped calm him down, feeling the slight pleased purr vibrate against his chest as you beamed under his attentive care. He would rumble his chest slowly in response, showing his own content. Those days you knew you had to distract his mind, letting his mind fill with nothing but the events of your day or any days you were apart. When you ran out of events, you started telling him your own thoughts. Recalling a question you have about the universe, a flower you saw on your way to the Void’s edge, how you think maybe the next time you visit you’ll bring Miguel a nice piece of decoration to hang up so his cabin doesn’t look so sad. 

But no matter the type of day, no matter how many times you had visited him, he always walked you back to the edge of the Void at the same exact time. It was like clock work. It didn’t matter if you didn’t finish your story, it didn’t matter if you weren’t done removing the decorations from his hair, it didn’t matter if he hadn’t fully calmed down yet. When a small chime ran through his house, he would drop whatever he was doing, standing to give you your lantern before walking you out of his cabin. You had asked him about it a singular time, but he had ignored it. You waited, debated if you should ask again in case he didn’t hear you, but then that time happened and you dropped it. You had stayed curious about it, but you had come to terms with the fact that you’d possibly never know.

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵

You don’t know what compelled you to come so late. It was far past the time you would usually come, proven by the fact no lantern glow greeted you at the edge of the Void. But something in you urged you to go, your feet basically dragging you through the darkness. Luckily, the frequency of your visits made you familiar with the path to Miguel’s cabin, hand stretched out until it hit the flat wood of a door. It only took you a few pats to find the doorknob, turning it and sliding it open. 

Instantly, a dark musk filled your senses. It makes your head dizzy and you grip tighter onto the knob to steady yourself. When you think you're stable enough to walk, you take a step forward only to almost trip on an overturned chair. A spike of alarm rings in your head and you can’t help the urgency powering your voice as you call Miguel’s name. In the darkness, there is a faint noise of shuffling before you yelp out in surprise. Large hands grab you and flip you on the couch, your hands shoved above your heads as the sound of deep breathing echoes in your ear. Your body instantly melts into the fabric at the sound of Miguel’s voice asking you what you’re doing here. 

You try to shift your hands, but Miguel tightens his hold on them. You huff out a pout but stop struggling as you ask him if he’s okay. He doesn’t reply, burying his head into the crook of your neck and inhaling deep. His breath tickles around your neck and you can’t help the soft squirms your body makes. 

“Smells s’good,” Miguel mumbles against your skin, his hips pinning yours down so you can’t try to escape. You try to stifle the gasp that builds in your throat at something hard pressing into you. When Miguel’s wet tongue glides up the length of your neck, a soft noise leaves you parted lips. Your hips buck up to push him off, but he only grounds and grounds his hips into you. 

Another sound leaves you, slightly louder than before as you feel something rush into your panties. The feeling of the wetness is uncomfortable and you try to shift to relieve it. Miguel’s hands find your waist and grip hard, holding you still as you pull away from your neck. His eyes are glowing so brightly that you can see the red tint in the darkness. “It’s witching hour, y'know.

Can’t be here, ángel.” 

Despite the gruffness of his appearance, the words are sweet and full of concern. If you could, you would have reached your hand up to cup his face. He looks and sounds pained. You don’t know why, but you want to help. “Are you okay, Miggy? You don’t sound so good, is there anything I can help you with?”

The honey dripping from your voice makes him grind his hips against you again. You just sound so sweet. His perfect little angel was so worried about him. Wanted to be helpful to him. So sweet and pure and innocent. So goddamn tempting. And, like he said before, he can never deny you. He can’t deny you. Who denies help from an angel anyways? Definitely not him. Definitely not when you can help. 

His hand reaches down and cups under your pretty white tunic, a gasp leaving you when he cups your clothed sex and the heel of his palm presses the wetness against your skin. A deep moan leaves Miguel at the dampness, his hand rubbing it eagerly. “Yeah, you can.”

Before you can ask him what it is he needs help with, you feel too long fingers slip under your panties. Your body instantly tenses as Miguel teases them along your entrance, more slick rushing from you to coat his fingers. He tries to push them in, absolute surprise coursing through him when your walls don’t instantly give to take them at the same time. He tries to ease the tips of them, but still gets nothing. It frustrates him. You’re so wet, he can see you glistening before him. Fuck, you hips are even pressing back into his hand. So why can’t you take his fingers? 

Then, it hits him. His sweet little angel is a virgin. 

He grows impossibly harder at the thought. You really are pure. His tiny little angel, untouched and pure. All for his taking. His eyes trail up your body, looking into your confused face. Poor thing doesn’t even understand what’s happening. But, it’s okay. Miguel, he isn’t mean. He may be a demon but he isn’t mean. He’ll take care of you. 

“Need you to spread your legs f’me, doll. Spread your legs and relax.”

You obey so beautifully. You don’t question or hesitate. You only do, only please. Your legs spread for him and he watches the way your tunic bunches around your waist. The sight of your drenched cunt is downright heavenly and he can’t help but lick his lips. His hands glide up your legs until he’s helping you keep your legs open. Gently, he bends down and places them over his shoulder until he’s face to face with your practically see-through panties. He licks a long strip up them, tongue swirling around your poked bud. Your lips instantly buck up in response and your hands find his horns for support. 

He chuckles at you, studying you as he pushes your panties to the side again. He licks another strip up you, your slick collecting on his taste buds. You taste as sweet as you smell and it’s driving him wild. The grip on you tightens as he prods at your entrance. His tongue is wet and warm and causes you to feel things you didn’t even know were possible. Your hips lift in response, and you cry out when Miguel slips his tongue into you. 

The buckling of your hips is instinctive as his tongue dives in and out of you, occasionally playing with your clit. Your eyes are threatening to roll back as your hands tighten around Miguel’s horns to aid your movements. “M-miguel…what are you..?”

Miguel’s own eyes roll back at your clueless question. You don’t even understand what’s going on, but here you are desperately trying to ride his face like a fucking succubus because you feel that good. A deep groan vibrates against you as he eats you out more desperately, drinking up everything you’re spilling out. In response, you keep letting out the prettiest of noises. If this is what it's like to go to church, Miguel just might consider being stricken down for the chance to hear your moans. 

Your legs begin to shake, trying to fight Miguel’s strong hold. Your body quivers and twists, head thrown back as you try to stop whatever it is building inside of you. “Miguel…stop, wait!”

Your begs and pleads are absolute music to him, He can feel the clenching of your walls, and he tries to ease a finger into you to hold them apart. His fingers slip in easier than before, but it still has resistance. But the moment he’s knuckle deep and curls, you’re crying out as you finish. Miguel’s eyes snap up to you, watching drunkenly as you twitch. He slurps everything up, moaning into you as he sucks your lips. He pulls away with a pop, placing a gentle kiss onto your sensitive clit as you try to breathe. Your chest rises and falls, sweat making your tunics stick to your body and become transparent in some places. You’re nipples peek through the fabric, and Miguel sucks them until they’re clearly seen under the garment. 

He finally reaches up to your face, kissing your cheek to call you back to him. Your eyes are hazy as you turn to look at him, a small film of satisfaction coating them. The sight makes Miguel smile, nuzzling his nose against your skin to breathe in the lingering scent of sex and sweat on you. You smell absolutely divine and he can’t help but palace a slow kiss to your lips. Your own lips are clumsy, not really knowing what you’re doing. You just follow Miguel’s example and whatever your brain is telling you is right. But Miguel seems to be enjoying it, pressing his lips harder against you and humming. 

You’re the first to pull away, a gasp ripping from you as you feel his finger slide back into you. He wiggles it around, stretching your walls out in preparation for something bigger. You whine against his lips. Hips shifting when he pulls it out of you. But soon you feel the warmth of something larger poking at your opening. Your eyes meet Miguel’s glowing ones, a silent question in your eyes. 

Miguel presses a soft kiss to the corner of your eye as he begins to push in. His hand tilts your head to the side, his face looking down at you as your own twists in discomfort. “This is gonna hurt for a second, sweet angel.” 

Before you can ask what he means, his hips snap forward. A scream begins to leave your throat, but it dies once Miguel surges towards your neck and bites down. The pinch of something painful hits you before it all dies down into a euphoric numbness. A soft moan leaves you as Miguel slowly thrusts in and out. He pulls away from your neck, giving it a quick lick and kiss before taking your arms to wrap them around his neck loosely. He kisses your cheek again, moaning at the coppery smell of blood that begins to feel the air as he stretches your hymen. 

“That’s it. So fucking good for me, good girl.”

Even in your dazed state, your body glows under his praise. A slow hum leaves you, and you arch your back into him. Miguel’s hand slips to your lower back, pressing your skin into his body and he begins to speed up his thrusts. Each snap of his hips brings shockwaves of pleasure through you, and it isn’t long before you feel the familiar build up in your body again. Miguel groans as your walls tighten around his cock, teeth grinding together as he pushes through your tight walls. With another sharp thrust, you're moaning out again as you release. 

Miguel continues to work you through it, working at your clit to make it last longer. You whimper in appreciation, body pressing up into his fingers for more. He chuckles at the involuntary movement, working you even after your body jolts from oversensitivity. His fingers and his thrusts don’t stop until he feels his own pleasure beginning to form its peak. WIth a few sharp thrusts and you moaning his name, he spills his hot seed into you. The feel of it filling you makes you come again, hips lifting and pressing into his pelvis to keep it all into you. 

Miguel rubs soft circles into the skin of your hips to help you calm down, pressing kisses to your shoulders and muttering praise. He pulls out slowly, his cock an ombre of pink to creamy white cum as the same mix drips from you. His fingers fuck it back into you absentmindedly, only stopping when you cry out softly. He gives you time to rest, leaving to get a soft cloth to wipe you down. 

Midway through his cleaning, you hand lands to his arm. He looks up at you questionably, watching the dazed look beginning to leave your eyes. But he can’t help the wide smile that forms on his face as you ask: “Again?”

Teehee