#song is thoughts and prayers by black dresses

[autisminfinite]

And in my dreams I am somewhere where I can fall apart I can think nothing and only Feel what I need to

[barefoot-joker]

Destined for Heaven, Stolen by the Devil~ Yandere!Lucifer X Reader

Hey, guys and welcome to another Lucifer story. I'm sorry I write for him a lot. I just find to him be a very relatable character and I love him so much! Anyway, this fic deals with heavy Christianity themes, so I did my best to research. If something is wrong, please tell me and I'll do my best to fix it. I was very inspired by the song 'The Plagues' from "The Prince of Egypt". As always, I hope you enjoy and have a great day/night!

Words: 2899

Warnings: Heavy Christianity Themes/Beliefs, Swearing, Christianity Mocking, Slight Possessive Tendencies, Reader's Aunt likes crystals, Reader Dies, Kidnapping?

I sighed as my mother pulled a light blue cardigan over my shoulders. She dusted off my dress and fixed my hair so that I looked presentable. Today was Sunday so that meant we had to go to church. I wasn’t too fond of going and I would have rather been playing in the backyard as a twelve year old does. However, my mom made it her duty to take me and make me a good Christian girl. “Why do we have to go, mom? It’s soooo boring!”

I stuck out my tongue at her. She gently pushed it back in. “You know I want our family to have a good relationship with the Lord. It’s our Christian duty. Besides, going to church is in your blood. After all-”

“Yeah, yeah. God told you that I was destined to be a wife for Adam. How can you believe that? It came to you in a dream.”

“Y/n M/n L/n! You do not question God’s ways! You know better! Now come on, we don’t want to be late.”

Dragging me by the hand, she ushered me into the family Cadillac and sped off. I sighed heavily. There were so many things I’d rather be doing than go to church. I could be with my friends, heck I could be at my cool Aunt’s house. “Hey, mom?”

“Yes, dear?”

“When are we going to visit Aunt Hailey? When she called you said we’d be seeing her soon.”

“I only said that to get her off my back. You know how I feel about her.”

I grunted and crossed my arms. Aunt Hailey was seen as the black sheep in the family all because she was wealthy. A lot of our relatives (my mother included) thought she sold her soul to the Devil in order to be immensely rich and refused to interact with her. I, however, thought she was so cool. When she used to come over she’d regale to me hundreds of stories about her travels around the world. She even showed me her cool crystal collection when we went over to her house a few times. “Now don’t be like that. It’s not ladylike.”

I grunted again and slid down in the tan leather seat. A few minutes later the car was parked in the church parking lot and I was being dragged inside. Sometimes I wish I had siblings so I wasn’t the only one to feel mom’s wrath. She seated us near the front and handed me the heavy white Bible from the pew. I robotically turned to the page with the Lord’s prayer and stood when Pastor Bob entered. We began reciting the Lord’s prayer and sang a hymn before we sat. I didn’t pay much attention as our Priest told us his sermon for the day but I didn’t dare to look around the room. I had to look the part after all. Fidgety, I played with my ring finger. Glancing down, I took in the birthmark that oddly looked like an apple. I remember it showing up after I stayed at Aunt Hailey’s house one day. I never told my mother about it though. I was often reminded of the tale of Eve and the apple and I don’t know what she would do if ever saw the fruit insignia. After the sermon and another hymn, it was time for communion. We all stood in line and when it was my turn I took the small Ritz cracker and ate it. I coughed lightly and then took a sip from the golden chalice. My mom and I returned to our seats and when everyone was done, we recited the Lord’s prayer one final time. Thank goodness it was over. 

As we walked out, I was forced to shake hands with our elderly Pastor. “How is my favorite little disciple doing today?”

I cringed at that. Ever since my mother told the church of her insane dream I was treated like some goddess. “Good.”

“That’s great to hear. I look forward to our weekly blessing.”

“Of course, Pastor Bob,” my mom butted in, “we wouldn’t miss it.”

He smiled and bid us both ado. We walked back to the car and drove home. As we passed by houses in our neighborhood, I looked longingly at the kids playing. Besides church, Sunday was dedicated to my education of becoming a housewife so when I did die and go to Heaven I was prepared. Parking the car, we went inside. I slipped off my Mary Janes and put them by the door. The rest of the day was spent cleaning, doing embroidery work and cooking. Just as I was getting ready for bed, the phone rang. I went into the kitchen and picked up the landline. “Hello?”

“Is my dear Y/n there?”

“This is her.”

“It’s your Aunt Hailey.”

“Auntie! Hi! How are you?”

She chuckled. “I am good, my darling. And you? Surviving another day in that stuffy house?”

I giggled at her commentary. “I’ve been okay. What can I do for you?”

“I was wondering when you can come over. I was talking with a friend the other day and he would like to meet you properly. I believe he saw you at my house when you were five.”

“I’d love to come over! Let me ask mom real quick.”

I walked into the living room and pressed the phone to my chest. “Hey, mom. Aunt Hailey’s on the phone. She wants to know when I can come over.”

She looked up from her book and glared at the phone. “You know my answer.”

“Come on, mom! It’ll just be for a day!”

“I don’t know.”

“Please! I promise when I get back I’ll focus on my wifely duties! Please!”

I gave her puppy dog eyes and slightly whimpered. She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Alright. You can go tomorrow, but I expect you to stay true to your promise. You know how God would feel if you went back on your word.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

I lifted the phone up to my ear and quickly ran into the kitchen. “She said I can come tomorrow.”

“Wonderful! I’ll see you then, my dear.”

“Bye, Auntie!”

“Goodbye for now, darling.”

I ended the call and put the phone back on the receiver. I returned to the living room where mom and I did our nightly prayer. When we finished, she gave my forehead a kiss and sent me to bed. 

The next morning I dressed in a plaid dress shirt, brown capri pants and black oxfords. I bounced in the passenger seat giddily as my mother parked the car in my Aunt’s gravel driveway. “Now remember to behave. I don’t need any calls about your disobedience.”

“I’ll be good, I will.”

“That’s my girl. And you have your cross necklace?”

“Yes, mom. Can I go now?”

She kissed my forehead and I got out of the car. “Be safe! Call me if something happens and I’ll be back around dinner to pick you up!”

“Okay mom, bye!”

I waved and she drove off. I turned towards my relative’s mansion and walked up the stone steps. I grabbed the handle from the golden lion’s head and gave three loud knocks on the large oak door. The door opened to reveal Timothy, my Hailey’s middle aged butler. “Ah Miss Y/n, we were expecting you. Please come in.”

He stood to the side and allowed me inside. Closing the door, he led me across the marble floor to one of the drawing rooms near the back. I could hear muffled voices talking as we entered, Timothy clearing his throat. “Your niece is here, madam.”

“Thank you, Timothy. That will be all.”

He bowed and exited the room. My Auntie smiled and gestured for me to come over. I ran to her and gave her a big hug. Her navy silk and lace dress clung to me. “It’s so good to see you, darling! I’ve missed you so!”

“I’ve missed you too!”

I pulled away and she motioned to the gold and floral print armchair next to her. I sat and looked at her guest on the chaise lounge. He seemed quite the esteemed gentleman. He had slicked back blonde hair, pale skin and red eyes. I found them quite odd but didn’t judge. Mother said it was bad to judge based upon appearances. He wore a white suit with a red dress shirt, a black tie with black flower detailing, black leather gloves and shiny black dress shoes. He was on the shorter side as well. “Y/n, I’d like you to meet my friend Luci. He’s the one to thank for my wealth.”

The man stood and bowed to me. He took my hand and kissed my apple birthmark. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, my little apple. Your Aunt has told me so much about you.”

“It’s good to meet you too, sir.”

“So polite. Your mother is raising you right.”

“Except for the amount of gospel she puts in my poor baby’s head. I swear all because of her fucking dream, she’s gone total Bible thumper.”

Luci titled his head to the side. “Oh you’ll have to tell me over tea. Speaking of which, I think Timothy has finished setting up the garden for us.”

“Splendid!”

We all stood and the blonde offered me his arm. I gladly took it and we walked outside to Hailey’s marble floored porch. A metal table sat in the middle overlooking her large flower garden, a lacy white tablecloth set on top. Luci pulled out my chair and after I sat, pushed it in. He sat next to me and began pouring tea for all of us. Today Timothy had picked out the clear glass kettle so we could see the yellow liquid inside and the pastel teacups. I thanked Auntie’s friend when he poured into my cup and marveled at the small pink flower floating. “I see we’re having chrysanthemum tea. You know it’s your Auntie’s favorite.”

I giggled and picked up my cup. Blowing a little, I took a sip and smiled at the sweet taste. “So you were talking about Y/n’s mother?”

“Ah yes. She’s always been a Christian woman, believing in the power above. Then one night she had a dream, a vision she calls it, that Y/n is to be the third wife of the first man Adam. Ever since then she’s been obsessively devoted and is dragging my poor niece with her.”

“I see.”

Luci seemed to become stiff at the mention of Heaven and God. Perhaps it was a touchy subject?

“So God came to her and said this, hm?”

“Sure as shit supposedly.”

The three of us sipped our tea in silence. “So has school been going, my dear?”

“Good, Auntie. We learned how to do cursive in English the other day so now I can write my name all fancy!”

“That’s great, darling. Anything else?”

“I’ve been feeling kind of left out lately.”

Both adults turned to me in curiosity. “How so?”

“Well none of the other kids my age are really learning wifely duties, at least not as much as me. When I want to go outside and play mom forces me to do my skills.”

“Wifely duties? Pray do tell,” Luci cocked an eyebrow.

“I learned how to clean the house from top to bottom, cook all three meals, sew, embroider, and do laundry. Basically anything my mom deems necessary to please this angelic husband of mine.”

“I can assure you it will come in handy. Especially with how much of pigish brute he is.”

“How do you know?”

“I just got that impression when I’ve read his passages in the Bible, sweetie.”

“Oh.”

“If you had a real man I can be sure you wouldn’t need those skills, darling,” Auntie piped up, sipping her tea.

“A real man? Like who?”

“Like Luci for example!”

I turned to the blonde and he smiled. His eyes glinted with what looked like adoration. He gently grabbed my hand and held it, his hands quite warm through his gloves. He brought it to his lips and kissed the back of my hand. “It’s true. If you were my wife you wouldn’t want for nothing. Every day would be spent in marital bliss.”

“Sounds gross!”

He chuckled and kissed my hand again. “When you’re older you’ll come to love it.”

‘If you say so.”

“I know so.”

The rest of the afternoon was spent listening to Luci’s tales from his travels while drinking our tea. They were quite intriguing and full of adventure. The people he met, the places he went were all so fascinating. It soon became dinner time and true to her word my mom sat in the driveway. Luci walked me to the door and gave a little bow. “It was a pleasure to chat with you, Y/n. I have a feeling we will see each other more in the future.”

“I hope so. You’re so cool, Luci!”

He smirked and patted my head. “Farewell, little lady.”

“Goodbye, Luci!”

I gave him a quick hug before running to the car.

Sure enough as I grew up I ran into the short blonde more often than not. From trips to the grocery store to when I was allowed at Aunt Hailey’s house, we would bump into each other. We’d always exchange a few words and always those red eyes sparkled bright around me. 

That was eleven years ago. Now I lay in a hospital bed, feeling like I was on the brink of death. A few years after meeting Luci I had gotten terribly ill. I was feverish, pale and felt nauseous. My mother was worried and took me to the clinic. I was just diagnosed with the flu. I took my medicine and stayed in bed as best as possible but the final straw was when I fainted in the backyard while gardening. Since then, I had been in and out of hospital with different doctors viewing me like prize cattle. I was poked, prodded and dug at only to be told no one had a clue as to why I was sick. It was like it had just fallen upon me. My mother became even more obsessive in her Christian ways. I was blessed every weekend and prayed upon every day to try and heal my mysterious illness. I was forced to drink holy water at every opportunity and had to wear my cross necklace with two rosaries. 

Currently, I was coughing so hard I felt like I dislocated my lungs. My mother sat next to me holding my hand, a rosary wrapping around us. As I continued to cough she pushed some hair out of my face. “You’re going to be alright, honey. Just stay strong.”

After my coughing fit, I laid back and tried to catch my breath. “I feel like I’m dying.”

Her hand tightened around mine and I could feel her body shake with sobs. “Maybe this is God’s way of letting us know Adam needs you. As much as I’d hate to see my baby go, you’d finally fulfill your purpose.”

“Mom, please. Not now.”

“I’m sorry.”

A knock at the door made us both look over. There in the entryway stood Luci, his white hat with the dark red band hanging tightly in his hands. “Come in.”

He stepped forward and gave a small smile. “Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Like shit.”

“Y/n! Language!”

“Sorry.”

He chuckled and came to my side, putting a hand on my shoulder. “May I have a moment alone, please?”

My mom looked at me and I gave a curt nod. She sighed and stood. “I’ll go get something to eat. I’ll be back later, honey.”

She gave my forehead a kiss and walked out, shutting the door behind her. Luci took her place in the chair next to my bed. “What can I do for you, handsome?”

“I wanted to come see you. Hailey told me how you were faring and I knew I needed to come immediately.”

“I appreciate that. Especially since I feel like this may be the last time you see me.”

“Nonsense. We will always find each other, even in death.”

He brought his hand up and caressed my cheek. I smiled and then began coughing. I turned away and hacked into my arm, only turning back when I was done. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

His hand wrapped around mine and squoze tightly. “You know, I could end your suffering right now.”

“Yeah right.”

“I’m not lying to you, my dear. One small kiss and you’d go peacefully.”

“Luci-”

“And then we can be together forever. Adam, not even Heaven will keep you from me.”

“What are you talking about?” “Just kiss me.”

What could go wrong? I was already suffering so much.

“...Alright.”

He leaned forward and connected our lips. He tasted sweet like caramel apples and I just melted. My soul felt like it was being sucked out of my body and when he pulled away I couldn’t breathe. “You’re mine, little apple. Forever and always.”

He caressed my hand and my eyes closed.

The beeping of the heart monitor slowed and then faded to silence all together.

[tacomicyuri]

I think… microphone would listen to Black Dresses…….

I just think she’d like Loud music, sorry I’ve seen some atrocious takes on what music mic would listen to… I don’t think she’d particularly listen to really popular artists or bands especially with her line about spoiled lemon that was like “I don’t listen to those sellouts anymore”

if you’ve never listened to black dresses here are a few songs I’ve been listening to recently.. I really like it if you like loud music I highly recommend it

[cherrycrushes]

can you please write more for benedict ?? i love the one you did about his muse !!! (no pressure obvs <33)

a dream with an artist - oneshot

b. bridgerton x reader.

a/n: yess tysm! also this is based off the faye webster song called a dream with a baseball player :)

sitting on a chaise, you were surrounded by the warmth of the sunlight. it was slowly turning into the evening. you were reading a book, with benedict's head on your lap. stroking his hair softly as you read the words on the page out loud. his soft snores echoing in the drawing room.

his hands that were now fallen, were occupied with his sketch book and quill. he had dozed off while sketching items in the room to your voice.

"lady y/n! lady y/n!"

and you woke up. sitting up, you saw your lady's maid standing at the entrance of your door.

"well good morning to you as well, miss. clark," you yawned and stretched. "what ever seems to be the problem?"

"miss y/n, pardon my intrusion, but your grandmother has passed this morning," miss. clark bows deeply. you could feel your heart shatter.

as the daughter of a marquis, your family has lots of power. power that could be taken advantage of. you knew because of your grandmothers death that many men would console you in an attempt to rise the ranks. though you knew you had your eyes set on a certain bridgerton, you had to be careful.

miss clark raises from her bow at her silence, and passes you the letter. opened, which you presume was because of your mother, and you could see the stamp of black wax on the end of it.

the letter described that your grandmother had passed in her sleep, discovered by one of her servants. it was expected of your family to be at her funeral in a churchyard. her wishes are to be surrounded by her family and other family friends.

off you were, facing your mother and father on the other side of a carriage. dressed in black italian gauze over a white slip, black gloves reaching until your elbow, you looked out the window. the drive was quiet, as your father acted as stoic as ever and your mother itching to say something. she tapped her finger rapidly on her knee, as if to muster up courage.

"you know, dearest, the bridgertons may be there," she said awkwardly.

you raised an eyebrow at her. it would make sense that they would- your mother and dowager viscountess bridgerton being close friends. you wish you could say the same to her children. the only way you've interacted with any of them is with benedict in your dreams.

"that's interesting, mother," you tried to dismiss.

usually when mourning, you didn't like to talk. a bit overcome with sadness. it would be easy for you to avoid people at the funeral, being known as mysterious to the ton. the carriage arrived at the church as your parents exited first. you walked up, hearing whispers about you as you did.

as the society mourning continued, you had spaced out the entire time. the reception was over before you knew it, and you were at your mothers side to accept any prayers.

the bridgerton family were over, giving their thoughts and prayers. while you weren't paying attention, you finally looked up from the ground. only to make eye contact with the second oldest bridgerton. you two shared the moment, as if telling each other to meet later and talk.

so you did, after the amount of families you have talked to. you were at a table, enjoying the sights of finger food and eavesdropping. you turned around as someone cleared his throat behind you.

"lady y/n pemberton," benedict announced. "good to see you."

he took your hand and pressed a kiss against it, causing a faint heat creep up on your cheeks.

"a pleasure to see you as well, mr. bridgerton," you replied, clearing your throat. "thank you for your prayers earlier."

realizing your mistake, you had tried to correct yourself.

"and your families' as well! it was sweet," you scrambled.

he chuckled lightly at your response. "no problem. i hope everything goes well in mourning of course?"

to this you simply nod. wanting to melt away in the crowd due to your embarrassment.

he bid his farewells, which you returned. red on your face increasing.

how did you fall in love with someone you didn't know?

[romana-after-dark]

Rooms on Fire: Stop Dragg'n My Heart Around

Dark!Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader Dark!Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader Dark!William Miller x Fem!Reader Dark!Benjamin Miller x Fem!Reader

Also: FishBen, and an assortment of other M/M relationships (no Millercest). Everyone is Bisexual

Series Masterlist: Main Masterlist : MainTaglist

Spotify playlist

Summery: Madonna learns more about her role and the dynamics of the household.

Warnings and Content:

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

DUB CON MOSTLY but there WILL BE NON CON. Major character deaths, forced breeding, physical abuse, brainwashing, manipulation, violence, gore, alcoholism/addiction, BIG OLE BLASPHEMY WARNING like this cult appropriates a lot of religious themes and they call reader their Madonna, Santi is called the Pope, like all that stuff. However, this is a cult so I mean. It happens. None of it are my thoughts on religion or meant to make fun of religion or demonize religious people. Disgusting views on virginity. Attempted rape outside the boys. T*m warning. Age gap. Creepy terrible men. Non-reader rape, dub con, violence.

Extra warnings for chapter: Anal, oral, love bombing, control

This is not meant to be a statement about religion, Christianity, or Catholicism, this is simply my take on a cult. I am a religious person. I understand that some of this may be very offensive to religious people so if you don't like thing like AHS Asylum or Black Mass, maybe consider not reading.

A/N: Every chapter will be named after a song from the spotify playlist. Dont forget to commen fitting songs!!

6.2k words

Support writers! Reblog and leave comments!

NEW OC: Faceclaim, Dev Patel

**************

There's people running 'round loose in the world Ain't got nothing better to do Than make a meal of some bright eyed kid You need someone looking after you~ Stop Dragg'n My Heart Around, Tom Petty and Stevie Nicks

You were the wife of deities. You were blessed, honored. Holy mother. The Madonna, and inside your womb the savior would grow. All four of them were Gods of different patronage, each with their own abilities and passions.

Francisco was the god of nature. He was the god of all that grew in the earth, the soil. the flowers. He was clairvoyant, but also had a gift of growth. Life. His prayers over you would solidify implantation after conception, keep you and your baby safe.

Benjamin was the sun god, god of celebration, and celebrate he did. Ben’s mood often controlled the weather. Most of the time, regular weather patterns took place, Benjamin’s emotions could change them, and he was prone to big emotions. That’s why him and Francisco worked so closely together. Weather and nature, working to keep the crops growing and the people safe.

William was all about duality, you were taught in catechism. God of war, God of medicine. He had the gift of healing, but also impeccable military prowess. This made for a powerful ally and feared enemy. William headed the military and security, but also watched over the medical care. 

And Pope, Divine Mothers only child. Pope had the gift of discernment and prophesy. He was incredibly intelligent, and with that came respect. He was not just born into this position, but born for it. God of family, god of passion. You felt that passion so clearly every time his eyes bore into you. He could no more hide it than he could his own beauty.

So why, with all this power surrounding you, did you feel so scared?

Everything just feels so confusing right now. You feel as if you can’t get your head on straight, like everything is whirling. You're married. You might be pregnant. Why was everything so… hard. When Pope waved your bloodied sheet around, he was soon joined by a whooping Ben who took part in the celebrations and dragged Francisco out with him. It was just you and Will.

Naked and shivering, suddenly cold on the cool tile of the altar without the heat of passion to warm you

“Just one minute, I’ll get you dressed once I’m done.” He says quietly, kneeling before you with a wet wipe, gently dapping at your swollen folds. “Damn, really did a number on yuh, huh?”

You don’t know how to respond, so you don’t.

“Well, I think this is as good as it’s gonna get.” Leaning over, he presses a kiss to the top of your puffy parts and gets up, helping you down with a hand. He slides the dress back over you. William was gentle as he caressed your cheek. “You did so good for us, princess.” His hand moved to your belly. “You’re a good girl, and soon you’ll be full with our baby, I just know it.”

You stand there in shock, unable to exactly form a reaction. The lights were too bright, it was too warm. There were too many flowers and incense and candles and oils… to much. You shut down and Will finishes dressing you: shoes, flower crown minus the ropes of vine. He stuffs your underwear in his pocket with a smile. “My little dividend.”

Jonah was outside the room, laying down on a bench with his cowboy hat pulled over his face.

“Wake up, old man” Will spoke with a bite you weren’t used to.

He mumbled under the hat. “I’m awake, damn. Just resting.”

William nudged you towards where he was standing. “Watch her for the rest of the cocktail hour, then bring her in for the entrance.”

Jonah frowned. “She ain’t going to the cocktail hour with you?”

“What’s the point? She can’t drink. She might be pregnant.”

“It’s her wedding.”

Will rolled his eyes. “She’ll have the wedding shit, this is more of a… stag party. Bachelor party sort of thing.”

You didn't know what that meant. You weren’t sure you wanted to.

“Whatever. I’ll watch her.”

“Yeah. You will.” Williams harsh glare softened as he turned to you, holding your face with both hands. “I’ll see you in an hour, my beautiful bride.”

When he left, Jonah mumbled something and began walking you down the long hall. The place was huge, absolutely massive. The worship chapple and sanctuary were attached to the house, originally built as a pool house but refurbished with the establishment of Delta. Divine Mother wanted her home attached to the sanctuary so she could go whenever she wanted, no matter the weather, so a hall was built on. In addition to the several bedrooms, living rooms and so on, there was a ballroom. This is where you would go after. For now, it seemed, you weren’t needed…

You wanted to go still. You were their wife, you wanted to meet the other members of Delta, you wanted to dance, to laugh, to smile with them… but the day's events left you tired, left you hurting, left you… confused. Why had they all left you so fast, save for Will?

“You alright, honey?” Jonah’s voice barely registers in your ear.

You don’t have it in you to answer, simply staring straight ahead as your breathing picks up speed.

“Hey, darl’n, hey.” He stops outside the kitchen. “What’s go’n on, you hurt?”

How do you even explain it, the panic rising up in you, the fear. Why were you scared? You were married to the gods, there was no safer position to be in. You were safe, protected… so why did you feel so on edge? Why was your head hurting, your heart racing, and why did you feel so used?

You stopped breathing before you realized it.

“Hey!” Jonah shook you, but your eyes felt glassy and unfocused. He pulled you through the swinging kitchen doors.

“Dad, what-” You hear Iris say and vaguely register a third person in the room. Iris stops what she’s doing and rushes to you. “What’s happening? What did you do?”

“Nothing! I got her after the ceremony and this just started!”

You were gasping for breath, the light and airy feeling in your head making everything a little blurring. Still, you register hands on your shoulders, calling your name. “You need to breath. HEY! You hear me? BREATH.”

But you can’t. The panic, all-consuming panic clawed at your throat and tightened your chest. Then, a hard slap.

*SMACK*

Iris slapped you, causing your body to gasp in shock. You took the opportunity to breathe in as much as you could get, and once the oxygen settled in, so did the clarity.

Dizzy, you stumble back and nearly topple over, but Jonah catches you. Careful, he sets you down in a chair. “Easy now, darl’n, breath, breath…” his arms were strong and safe around you, but Iris grabs your shoulders.

“Listen to me.” You look up to watch her, brown eyes fiery on yours. She commanded the room. “You need. To get it. Together. Those men out there-” She pointed vaguely out the door. “Are dangerous.”

“Iris…” Jonah whispers, but when her head whips towards him in anger, he backs off.

“You shut it, you don’t know jack shit about surviving here, especially as a woman.” Back to you. “I don’t care how you feel, I know you’ll probably fall in love because you’ve been so brainwashed, but I need you to understand this.” She leans in. “You need to get your shit together. You need to clean up, you need to get out there and charm the fucking dick off of every single person in that room. The only way you get through this is if you want a very thin line. Submissive but not weak. Obedient but not permissive. Have boundaries but keep them loose and never, ever, try to resist sex. This is no time to be weak.”

Her words barely made sense to you.

They weren’t dangerous. They LOVED YOU. You were their WIFE. But still, part of her words range true; you were the daughter of a traitor, a man who partook in an uprising that caused the death of the Divine Mother, and the other high up members would have their eye on you. You needed to make sure there was no reason to doubt your love for your husbands, nor your adoration of Divine Mother.

“Fuck,” Iris mutters something to the third figure in the room about ‘nothing there’ then stands up. “Jonah, go back to the dressing room and get the make-up and hair products.” It was only then you realized you had been crying, make-up running off your face. “Rey, I need you to help me in here.”

He was tall, about as tall as Jonah but not quite the Millers height. “What do you need?” He began to tie his dark curls back. Iris directed him on finishing the desserts while she took out all the food from the oven for the main dish.

When Jonah came back, Iris set to work redoing your face, making it look as if you never cried, never had a single scared thought. She fixed you up nice and pretty, then left you on the chair to wait for your entrance.

After everything was placed on carts to take out, Iris departed, with Jonah following behind shortly and instructing the other man to stay with you. Iris insists she doesn’t need a guard dog, but Jonah say something about not wanting her alone with ‘those drunk bastards’ if he can help it. You’re suddenly nervous, unsure about being alone with a man other than your husbands or Jonah, but you don’t have a choice.

“They’re a stressful pair to watch aren’t they?” The dark haired man says, pulling up a chair beside you. He turns it around, straddling it before sitting backwards and leaning his arms on the backrest.

You don’t want to be rude, so you give a shy smile without meeting his eye. “Are they… um… is uh…” You realize you don’t know Jonah’s last name, and are unsure how to properly address him to others. You don’t want to seem too familiar when you are a married woman now. “Mr. Jonah, is he Iris’s father? I heard her call him dad.”

He chuckles a bit, and you turn to look at him. With a better view, and clearer vision, you are able to take in his features. He’s handsome, but in a almost boyish way -although you doubt he’s younger than 30. Dark curls are still pulled back, but you’d estimate his hair falls about shoulder length, maybe shorter, as chunks are falling out. Strong nose, brown skin, and bright, brown eyes. Strangely jovial compared to Iris and Jonah.

“Yeah, kinda rare that happens. She’s um… well, they’d had… well I guess it’s not my place to say, but they’ve had some ups and downs. But yeah, she’s his daughter.” He extends a hand. “Reyansh Saha.”

You give him your name. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Saha.”

He laughs again, but it doesn’t feel like he’s laughing at you; it’s too good natured for that. “Just Rey is fine.”

“Oh, no, no I shouldn’t.” You try to protest.

“Ammayi” (my girl) He says with a glint in his eye. “No one here will understand you if you call me Mr. Saha, I promise you. You can call me Reyansh if that’s easier. Or, well, you can call me Mr. Saha if you’re uncomfortable of course” His tone is good natured, but clearly trying to ease you. You feel like a skittish animal, and he’s a good samaritan trying to coax you to some food.

You give a little nod. “Okay, yeah Reyansh works.”

*

You felt like you may have another panic attack.

Pope was on your right, holding your arm with William beside him. On your left arm was Benjamin; Francisco was fidgeting beside him.

“Baby.” Ben whispers to Francisco. “You gotta calm down, you're shaking…”

You watch as Pope turns abruptly at the nickname, but says nothing. Benjamin grabs Francisco's hand, squeezing it three times and giving him a little peck on the cheek before letting go. Francisco smiled, just a little.

You were making your grand entrance as husbands and wife, to the whole of Delta, to stand out on the balcony as the masses gathered below. Jonah instructed you on procedure. 

“This is the most dangerous point. I have the entire guard in the crowd, both noticeably armed and plain clothes, everyones been searched before entry and theres no reason to suspect a problem, but-” He turned to you. “Anything happens, a gun shot, something is thrown, a fight breaks out, I am grabbing you and we are going. Don’t argue, don’t worry about them-” He gestures to the men beside you. “My only concern will be to get you to safety. Your husbands are all armed and trained fighters, you are not. You have me, understood?”

There would be no need for concern. As you stepped out, leading your husbands in a v shape through the curtains, a stark hush fell upon the crowd. Thousands of people, thousands, here to see your husbands. Here to see them with their brand new bride, the mother of their child. You were humbled, truly, to be honored in such a way that the god’s dained you deserving. Cheers broke out, no doubt to the flag being raised- your bloodied sheets, signifying that you were indeed a virgin, and had been claimed in the name of the gods. The crowd was adoring; how beloved your husbands were to their people!

You focused your hearing not being all that far away, to try and pick out a word or two, and were surprised with the result.

“MADONNA! MADONNA! MADONNA”

They were cheering… for you.

The priestess stood off to the side, raising her arms to hush the crowd. 

“Hail Madonna, full of grace, blessed are you amongst women!”

Then, she kneeled.

Behind her, beginning with the front and sending a wave through the back, the entire mass of people knelt, chanting “Hail! Hail! Hail!”

To both your left and right, all four of your husbands bowed to you.

You were the holy mother. You were Madonna. You would bring about the savior and peace on earth. You were divine.

*

The party went swimmingly. Your new found confidence, it turns out, made speaking to strangers easier. You shouldn’t fear them for being a traitor's child, you shouldn’t feel their judgeful gaze. They should worship you. Not the same as Pope, William, Benjamin and Francisco, and certainly not Divine Mother, but you were blessed.

You never were far from William, Pope, or Benjamin, most moments of the evening were spent with their arms around your waist or holding your hand; you belonged to them.

Pope had pulled you to the dance floor, tender grasp keeping you close as he guided you through the violin music. 

“You are just… so beautiful” He whispered, clean shaven face up against your own. 

“Thank you.”

“You do understand how stunning you are, don’t you? Most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

You tuck your head in his neck, smelling his aftershave; or was it the liquor on his breath? You weren’t sure.

“It’s like you were made for me…”

A gentle kiss. “I was. I was made for you, by Divine Mother’s majesty.”

You could feel him smile at that, hands slowly trailing down your back. “That’s right, made just for me…”

You nuzzle against him, signing contently. He loved you, you were so, so loved… “Made for my husbands”

His smile dropped. When his hands grazed over your ass, he gripped it tight, painful, making you yelp. The noise and crass motion was sure to attract attention, and you turn to look.

Pope grabs your face, forcing you to look at him. “Don’t look at them, look at me. I am their god, they are nothing compared to us, what we do is none of their business. I could bend you over right now and if I told them to ignore it, to go about the party, they will. You understand me?”

You nod.

His fingers pinch your cheeks. “Your body was made for me, and it’s mine. Understood?” You realize now your mistake. You had said your husbands. Plural. You must have hurt his feelings when bringing the others into it, even if you meant well. You note that special times between you and Pope should remain exclusive. Don’t make him jealous.

“Made just for you” You push past the force of his hold to kiss him on the lips. “I belong to you.”

Popes body language relaxed, his plush lips smiling again as his grip softens. He runs his thumb over your lips. “So beautiful for me…”

*

As you spoke like old friends to a woman you’d never met in your life, Benjamin slid up to you. “‘Scuse me, darl’n, but may I steal my wife away for a few moments?”

The woman bowed her head and excused herself while Benjamin pulled you away.

It wasn’t long before you were out the ballroom, down a hall and into a small linen closet, his hands all over you; frantic, needy, a fully hard cock pressing against your skirt. This was to be expected, and you understood your role. At any time, day or night, busy or not, you were to be available to be filled.

He yanked at your skirt. “Yuh know,” Benjamin said between short pants of breath. “It was my brothers insistence that your dress have blue… he said that- mmphh- it was symbolic or some bullshit, but I think he just wanted his color on you.”

You weren’t entirely sure if that was true, but you didn’t want to make a committal answer so you attempt to kiss back, unsure of the movements still. “Mmm, Benjamin…”

“Call me Benny, darl'n.” He rucks up your skirt, only to find no underwear. He stops, blue eyes looking at you with a steely ferocity. “Will take your panties after he cleaned you up.”

Lie, your first instinct told you. He’s dangerous,lie. But he wasn’t dangerous. He was your husband. “Yes” You wanted him to touch you again, you liked the way he explored your body. 

His brows pursed together before growling, turning you around and bending you over a small folding table. “God damn him, and god damn Pope!” Benjamin grunted, making you scared as he flicked your dress up to your waste. “I should’ve had you first!” Ben spits onto your exposed asshole, shocking you a bit.

You try to turn around when you hear his belt being undone. “What-”

“Shhhh” He pushes you back down on the table, freeing his hard cock. You jump when he slides a finger into your tight ring of muscle. It doesn’t feel bad, but not necessarily good, either. He begins to pump, then adds a second finger and you gasp at the intrusion. “Making me fuck’n wait till last-” You hear him spit on his free hand, beginning to jerk himself off as he begins to scissor you open.

“Ben!”

“Relax, baby, I’m not Pope, I ain’t tryna tear you open, you’ve bleed enough for one day.” You swear you hear him chuckle. What is he doing? You were confused, but also beginning to sink into the feeling of him. “They always do this to me, they always make me wait, and wait and wait just because Frank’s Pope’s favorite and Will’s ugh, Will’s older- goddamn” He stops, lining up the tip of his cock to your asshole and spitting a few more times. He was going to fuck you there?! Ben folds over, encasing your body in his warmth as he whispers in your ear. “Not this time, your ass is mine.” With that, he thrust into you, splitting your hole open as you cried out.

He laughs. “Lot louder than when Pope took you huh?”

*

Jonah found William getting a glass of wine and sipping it while watching over the party.. “I gotta talk to you.”

William doesn’t even turn to look. “Fuck off, Hanson.” 

Will did not like Jonah, he knew. Their history prevented the same rapport that he had with Santiago, but never the less, he know Will was the one for this request.

“It’s about your precious Madonna.”

With that, Will turned.

*

Benny was insatiable, thrusting into you wildly and grunting with every movement. “So- fucking-tight-god!” He shouts and it takes everything in you not to cry… but that feeling was bubbling up again, despite the discomfort, but that discomfort was slowly slipping into something else.

The slightest moan escapes.

It seems then almost that Ben reminds you’re here, that he’s not fucking a hole in a wall and chuckles. “Oh, you like this, pretty girl? I can make it better, so much better.” He wraps a strong arm around you, toying with that sensitive spot that William was playing with earlier illiciating a much louder moan from your lips.

“God baby, thats it… gonna cum like this, darl’n? Gonna cum with a cock up your ass like the dirty girl I know you are? Yeah, yeah sure sounds like it…” He replies after your sounds of pleasure grow. “Under all this white, underneath that good girl act and that sweet little face, I knew, I just fucking KNEW your little virgin cunt was begging to get fucked, desperate for cock, huh?” His hips begin to falter, growing more sloppy. “Well now you got 4 cocks desperate to fill you up, to put our baby inside you first, fuck, you gonna be able to handle all that?

You can’t even reply, a mess of moans under his body. 

He grabs your hair, yanking you up to look at him. “ANSWER ME!”

“YES!” You scream, so close to spilling over but not quite there, needy and whimpering for him. “I can take it! I want it! I want you all, all the time!”

“I know, darl’n girl, I know, f-fuck, ugghh fuck!”

 Pulling out of your ass, you almost whine for him, whine for more, but he thrusts it into your pussy last minute. The intrusion sends you over, clamping down hard on him as he spills into you. “Yeaahh, that’s it, thats- oh my god, perfect little pussy- fuck!” When he finishes inside you, his warmth is all over you again, staying there for a moment with his cock plugged inside you. “Gotta make sure to cum inside your little pussy every time, no matter how good your ass or mouth feel. Can’t waste a drop.”

He caressing your arm as his body language softens, nuzzling his face into your hair. “So good, pretty girl. So fucking perfect.”

*

“She needs someone looking after her.” Jonah insists. “She’s just a kid.”

Will is dismissive, but behind his eyes hide curiosity. “That’s what you and security are for.”

Jonah signs. “Okay, listen, I’ll be honest here.”

“You sure that’s a good idea?”

“You ain’t fond of me, that’s a given. I get it. But let’s be clear.” Jonah drops his voice low. “Frank’s been mentally checked out all day. He don’t want nothing to do with this. Ben’s a -”

“Watch it.”

Jonah rephrased his next words. “He’s not gentle. He’s not careful, and when he’s high he flat out dangerous, and he buys into this whole delusion and so does Santiago. Santiago is worse, he’s delusional and can flip like a fucking switch. She needs someone to help her navigate them. That needs to be you.”

Will didn’t say anything, but from the way his brows were furrowed, Jonah new he planted a seed. 

“Look, here she comes with Ben, she’s fucking stumbling, Will. Go take care of your wife.”

*

It hurt.

It was hard to walk like this, but Ben’s arms were tight around you. You felt strangely safe like this, like he was going to be there from now on.

“What the hell did you do to her, Ben?”

“Relaaaaax” Ben waved off his brother. “She’s fine.”

Will didn’t buy it.

“Pope got her pussy, I got her ass.” He shrugged.

Disgust spread across his features. “You did anal? With no lube? Jesus Ben!”

“RELAX!” Ben raised his hands in defense. 

Will hushed him. “That’s enough for tonight, I’m taking you to bed.”

And that was that. Will’s arm replaced Ben’s and quickly guided you out the door again. Once out of sight, Will scooped you right out. “Ain’t having you walk like that, babygirl. ‘Slright, just rest.” And rest you did, clinging to him and laying your head on his firm chest. You felt like you were almost asleep when he laid you on the bed.

Like how he cared for you before, he cared again, undressing you with a gentle strength.

“Lay down, lemme make sure your okay.” The worry in his voice made your heart sing.

“I’m alright, I promise.” You whisper, but spread your legs anyway.

He tsks his tongue. “Poor little girl… you’re alright, but I know it must hurt, doesn’t it?”

You swallow thickly, nervous with his face so close to your core. “Um… it’s a little sore, I guess…” 

“I bet… but it wasn’t all bad, was it?”

“N-no, it wasn’t…”

“I can see that…” A thick finger swipes up your slit. “Got all wet, didn’t you? You sure are easy to work up…”

You shutter at the touch, a little achy but still desiring him. How could you not? How could you not want him when he spoke to you so low, so careful? When carried you and cleaned you and dressed you… he was perfect, fucking perfect.

“Poor little girl…” William spoke in a deeper tone, planting a kiss to your clit and making you whimper. “Gotta be at the beck and call for four men… that can’t be easy, but you’ve been taking it so well…” His fingers move up and down your folds, spreading your cum and the new slick trickling down.

“It’s, mmmm it’s my honor to be found worthy…” You sit up on your elbows, curious as to his actions.

“And worthy you are, Madonna.” His lips glazed over your flesh. “Bless are you, among women” His hand on your stomach. “and blessed is the fruit of your womb.” You watch William, knelt before you, hovering with his mouth open above your waiting mound.

You whisper, “Please”

He whispers equally soft. “As you wish.”

When William latched his mouth onto you, it’s unlike anything you’ve felt before, although you can’t say you’ve felt much. His mouth is hot, wet, messy as he licks you, tongue and lips moving in tandem, like a well practiced team with the sole purpose of reducing you to a whimpering mess.

“W-Will, oh that… oh my god-”

But he didn’t stop, latching his tongue to your clit as his fingers entered you, and despite the overstimulation of the day, compared to the large phalluses that had breached your core, his fingers merely provided pleasurable stimulation. His free-hand remained busy as well, taking your private moment to explore the rest of your body. You didn’t understand what pleasure he could find in your thighs, your stomach, or playing with your fingers, but you relished in his closeness, the emotional and physical and sexual intimacy compared to the coldness of the deflowering. 

But it had to happen this way, you thought as your hips bucked; William had begun swirling his tongue around your clit, causing a surge in pleasure. This afternoon was a ritual; systematic, calculated, precise. There was no room for intimacy, for love. But you’d seen it now. You’d seen it in the way Pope danced with you, in the way Ben caressed you after sex and praised you, the way Will touched you now… the only thing missing was Frankie.

It wasn’t long before Will had to gushing on his face, crying out his name in a hedonistic moan, a orgasm so blinding that the revelation that you existed to pleasure and be pleasured by these men until you were swollen with child seemed like a gift of godhood itself.

He pulled three more out of you before he was satisfied, making come on his face and fingers thrice before your final orgasm was only singled by an tired “Mmmmmmmph” and your contracting walls. Finally, he pulls back. You can’t see him, eyes too tired they won’t open, but you imagine his beard is glistening with the way he soaks you when he kisses you cheek.

When you’re situated in bed, where you can only assume is your room, you ask Will to stay, ask him to hold you while you fall asleep. He obliges.

You feel dwarfed in his grasp his body so large it makes you feel small, but also secure. You don’t have to be brave, you don’t have to be strong. You don’t have to think or to worry. Everything would be taken care of for you, you’d give birth to the savior and how many other children, and redeem your family name from your fathers betrayal. You would find redemption in this house, right alongside love, family, and maybe even friendship for the first time since you were twelve…

Everything was falling into place.

So why didn’t it seem like Francisco loved you?

*

Knock knock.

“Honey?”

Knock knock knock

“Honey you in there?”

Jonah. 

“One moment!”

You open your groggy eyes and take a look around the room, finding a luxurious, long, white robe on the dresser. You put it on, covering your nakedness, and timidly open the door.

“Yes?” Jonah stood before you, gun slung on his hip as usual.

He looks sympathetic. “Sorry to wake you, but Santiago wants to see you, I’m here to escort you.”

Hearing someone refer to Pope as his given name is jarring, but something about Jonah is just… very different. He seemed so serious when talking to you about safety, about making sure only his most trustworthy men watched you and how determined he seemed at the balcony… but it seemed he took everything else so unserious to him.

You didn’t like that he referred to your husband by his name, it was much too informal, but you cared about Jonah, so you don’t mention it.

After dressing, Jonah takes you down stairs. You’re thankful for him, the house is too big for you to know your way yet.

“How you feeling?” 

“About what?” You ask genuinely.

Jonah turns to you, a curious look on his face. “About… everything. Yesterday was a big day. A lot happened.”

Of course a lot happened. You were still leaking their cum. “Nothing that Divine Mother didn’t intend.” You say as if its obvious.

He sighs. “Right.”

Pope was waiting outside the door of the intended room. His smile grew when he saw you, walking over to place a hand on your cheek and kiss you. “Good morning, my beautiful wife.”

Wife… something so magical about that word.

Pope thanks Jonah and dismisses him, turning you to the doorway and opening it. “I have a surprise for you, bebita.”

When the door opens, you gasp as you’re led inside. Canvases fill the room as did papers, paints, pencils… 

“How… how did you know…” You whisper in awe, your heart swelling at the gesture. He loved you, he really loved you and wanted you to be happy here. You were so lucky, so lucky to be adored like this, to be adored by him especially. Pope had worked his way deep into your heart in a matter of days. He was everything to you now, he was your world. You belonged to him, every single inch of your heart, your body, your mind, your faith was him.

“I’m the god of love, I know what mi amada needs… I’ll always know.” He stands behind you, wrapping his arms around your body, the body that belongs to him, and kisses your neck. “I can’t wait to see what you paint, Madonna…” 

***************

PLEASE TELL ME UR THOUGHTS I THRIVE ON PRAISE

I feel like im doing ass at writing Ben here. I my normal fics on my main he's a consent king and so so so so soft so this is strange to me. BUT he can be tender and loving, dont you worry

SO, THE GENERAL CONCENSOUS IS YOU ALL WANNA FUCK JONAH. Lmfao, horny sluts. HE'S OUR FATHER FIGURE. Imagine having daddy issues. COULDNT BE ME (this is a joke lol)

But! Thoughts on Iris, and our new boy, Reyansh?

Not a super eventful chapter and i felt like Madonna have said like 10 words this whole fic but this has been the set up, now we can move forward! If you read TWW, LO was practically silent for the first few chapters.

Now they ceremony is done and she's married and already v attached and brainwashed.

How to keep up with the story!

Comment on this masterlist that you want to be tagged and I'll tag you in updates (If you ask to be tagged, I ask you at least like the fic. Likes dont do anything to spread the work, but it at least lets me know you're still reading.)

Follow @romana-updates and/turn on notifications

Follow the tag Rooms on fire

@hon3yboy @winniethewife @femmeanonymelives @yorksgirl @pockcock @neverwheremoonchild @casa-boiardi @meveispunk @survivingandenduring @criticalarchitecture @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @obscurexsorrows @hellfire-state-of-mind @christinamadsen @pimosworld @princessanglophile @rubyfruitjungle @simple-lovebot @missdictatorme @campingwiththecharmings @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @javier-penas-wifexx420 @stefani-topaz @alwaysmicado@mjnomaryjane @incorrectclassicbookquotes @axshadows @ghostslillady @movievillainess721 @justagalwhowrites @charethcutestory02 @pixielou5 @gogh-with-the-flow @justafandomgvrl @katw474 @loveable-liar @arrozconpepitoria @minigirl87 @runa-falls @pedge-page @angel-of-the-moons @beefrobeefcal @pixielou5 @miraclesabound @oliveksmoked @mjnomaryjane @bubble-pop-eclectic @corazondebeskar-reads @charethcutestory02 @pedroshotwifey

If I forgot someone or you'd like to be added/removed LMK!

[sukuberry]

CRY .

contains: religious tasks (prayer) dealer!sukuna, black uni student reader, college AU

xo’s note ୨୧: this one is a bit self indulgent 😓 its okay though, let me know what yall wanna see next !! not proof read (based off of the song cry by cigs after sex <\3)

part 1 > part 2

you wake up on your twin xl eight feet in the sky. rubbing your eyes while yawning, you sit up and begin to pray, preparing yourself for the day “.. and God bless mom and dad, Amen” you said through your hoarse morning voice. you pick up your phone checking instagram, tapping through a bunch of stories until you reach your best friends “shxkos: party at my house!!! dm for the address, see yall at 9pm” on campus living was shitty, but you made it work. you look around your room you climb down from your bed noticing your roommate is already gone. you head to the bathroom to freshen up and walk out over to your vanity to do your makeup. it's summer break and your parents are all the way in Jamaica visiting family so you have no reason to go home. as you’re finishing applying blush you get a message. you look down at your phone picking it up with a giddy smile.

bae ❣️

hey pretty, good morning

good morning kuna you sleep well?

yea ma, wyd later? shoko is having a party and i wanna take you

oh i was planning on going so that's good! i wanna go to the mall so i can pick out an outfit 😚

yk i gotchu, i'll be there in 5, alright

kay, see you soon pa 🫶🏽

bae loved “see you soon pa 🫶🏽”

you threw on a quick outfit, jhené aiko blasting through your pill speaker. you haven't seen sukuna in a whole week and that separation anxiety started to get to you. you grabbed your purse and headed down the stairs to meet sukuna at the door. rolling down the window of his car you see sukuna flashing that charming toothy grin, he hops out of the car, reaching towards his arms encircling your waist. “hey ma, i missed you” you smiled “i missed you too kunaa, cmon lets go” he held the door for you, then shutting it once you got in.

brent faiyaz pouring through the speakers. his hand rested on your thigh softly caressing it. you hated the smell of weed and his car always reeked of it but you had the antidote. you whip out your perfume from your bag and spray it everywhere in the front and back seats “really ma..? ‘got me smelling like this bath and body works shit” he plugged his nose “boy please, your car reeks, i'm helping you” you giggle slightly at his expression, you love this man with all your heart, you don't even notice when you begin staring at him with lovesick eyes. he does though. “aye, babe?? you good ma?” his hand went back to resting on your thigh “oh, yeah just lost in thought” you looked out the window “well we’re here now, hop out and lets go find some things''

you get out of the car and walk toward the entrance, it's a monday so the mall isnt as crowded as usual, still pretty full though. you feel sukuna’s hand wrap around your waist, guiding you around the mall. after what felt like hours of searching you came out with a cute little dress sukuna dropped you off at this apartment to get changed. “i got some drops to do then i'll be back to get you, its only 8:30 so i'll be back soon” he held the door open letting you step inside.

part 2 >

AYEEE IM LIKING THIS ONE SO FAR, THIS IS MY FIRST TIME DOING SOMETHING DIFFERENT SO TELL ME WHAT YALL THINK credits due to @/enchantlings for the dividers

wc: 651 , striving for 1.5k next time 😭

©sukuberry 2024. all rights reserved. dont copy, translate, or steal my work.

[angelkisses666]

Players prayer

bc toji x black reader

MDNI 18+

warning(s): smut, p in v, unprotected sex (pls wrap it up y’all) , mentions of drinking and alcohol, toji

synopsis: you’re going out but your clingy boyfriend has other plans.

A/N: this is my first time writing smut hehe

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

humming as you put on your earrings the final touch of you getting ready to go out, you walk out of your bedroom into the dark living room where r&b loudly plays. you roll your eyes knowing it’s just your boyfriend in his feelings after drinking before you leave to go out without him. you walk to the side of the sofa he sits at and turn on a dim light. “toji, you do this every time i’ll be gone for 2 hours” you speak over the music. “you shouldn’t be leaving me at all” he replies with an eye roll. as the song changes he starts feeling himself singing along with it. you watch in amusement as he stands up trying horribly singing the lyrics to you. you try jogging your memory of the song playing. ‘players prayer’ is all you say in your mind before smirking up at him with an eye roll. “and girl i’m on my knees,” he sings to you before dropping to his knees to hold you by your waist touching every part of you like you’ll disappear if he doesn’t. you run a hand through his hand giggling before going “toji i promise you’ll have me all to yourself when i get back.” he presses his face deeper into your stomach with a disapproval noise “fat chance,” he grumbles into the red dress you’re wearing, “you leave me looking this good and the whole world gets to see you when i can’t.” he begins standing up while maintaining eye contact. once he gets back to full height he grabs both sides of your face before leaning down to kiss you right on your plump glossed lips. you hum before moving back from him “mmm, toji no i’m gonna be late.” “only gonna be 5 minutes mama” he replies before going right back to swallowing your lips with his own. you slowly accept your fate of being trapped in his hold as you wrap your arms around his neck leaning into the kiss. tasting him on your tongue a mixture of alcohol and the strawberry lipgloss you were previously wearing. his wandering hands leave no space on your body untouched as he manages to back you into a wall lifting you up effortlessly. “still wanna leave me ma?” he whispers in your neck before assaulting it with bites and kisses. “toji…” you whine feeling his bulge brush against the embarrassingly large wet spot on your panties. your head is spinning as you try to focus on the music in the background. living room flow is playing and now listening to the lyrics you realize they’re just egging him on

“just do what you do to my body, i just wanna..”

“hmm? talk to me baby i wouldn’t want you to be late,” he tease’s obviously knowing what your answer is going to be. “toji please, i need you” you whine, sounding more desperate than anticipated “of course you do” he purrs into your ear while simultaneously pulling your panties to the side. you gasp when he slides two fingers over your already dripping folds “this all for me baby?” he grins down at you looking into your pleading desperate eyes. you nod up at him patiently waiting for him to give you everything you deserved. as if he could hear your thoughts he uses his free hand to gently tilt your chin back up to him “i know mama, ‘m gonna give you everything you want tonight” he whispers before stuffing his entire length into your weeping needy cunt. “…sshitt” you mumble out squeezing your eyes shut at the sudden force of him. toji being the observing man he is, is already dipping at your neck kissing all over the lonely skin singing hushes “shh ‘s okay i got you baby” grabbing both of your thighs he’s already giving you slow, shallow pumps “fuck this shit so fucken good babe- shit” he moans before picking up the pace “toji! oh my god!” you moan before scratching the back of his neck trying to ground yourself from all of the overwhelming pleasure. “yeah you feel me? show daddy where you feel him,” he smirks while staring at your fucked out face trying to grasp what he’s asking you. taking one of his hands you press right above your belly button “here babe it’s so deep,” you whine at the added pressure to the pounding toji is giving you against the cold wall of the wall of your living room. “good girl- fuck meee- i’m so close baby,” he whines grunts into your chest as he feels his hips stutter, “cum for me baby, come for me please princess- shit-,“ he all but begs before kissing away the whine that emerges from your throat as he angles his hips to hit a particularly deep spot. “fuccckkk toji im cumming- oh my-“ you cut yourself off before your eyes roll to the back of your head and your head tosses back. “oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck i’m cumming too baby- shit- i love you” he groans before stilling his hips trying to catch his breath as both of you come down from your highs. panting, you push the hairs sticking to his forehead aided by sweat away from his eyes before leaning up to kiss right near his scar, “i love you too toji” he chuckles before setting you down on the sofa giving you a quick peck “‘m gonna go start a bath for us, you’re staying with me tonight” turning toward the bedroom. “ugh you’re so annoying,” you chirp, “you love it” he smugly replies before disappearing down the hall

he was so, so right.

[pieroulette]

𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐬: 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 | Teaser One

2023 | 18+ | Series | ENHYPEN OT6 × READER | MASTERLIST

SUMMARY with the absolute order from the highest celestials, six high ranking angels were sent to capture and condemn you—an exceedingly sinful and overpowering succubus to the holy tower for eternity. Capturing you might not be so difficult with them outnumbering you, but the question is; would they be able to keep ignoring your irresistible charms while staying firm to their principles, abiding by the rules, and reciting their prayers forever?

GENRE angels and demons au, romance, reverse harem, angst, fluff, smut

WORD COUNT 1.7k

"Aaah~ aren't you a pretty little dumb thing?" You sang a song as you approached the cowering human, pressing your heels on his back which caused him to whimper in downright fear.

Your eyes fell upon an unconscious lady against the wall, her lips hanging apart with bubbles dripping from the corners of her lips. And then at the half unzipped pants of the middle-aged men beneath your heel.

What a cute sight, you thought. You only came to the red district to have some little fun with your favourite humans, to feed on their energy and so on. Your eyebrow raises at the thought of meddling with the humans committing sins, you shouldn't have to stop the man from forcing the lady against her will, yeah? The amount of pitch dark energies it would give you would be tremendously high and sufficient for your cultivation as a succubus, so why did you even bother?

At the back of your mind, a tiny voice called out in a moderate volume among any others. Maybe you could save her just for today, she ain't that strong enough to survive but maybe you could let her live one more day free of pain.

"Hm, why, why. Aren't you a big brave baby boy, why don't you show me how hungry you are?" Your finger swayed in a circular motion, casting a dark crimson spell within the man's orb which turn him into madness; his nails grew longer and sharp, screeching against the wet ground. His back arching to the point his lower spine grew out.

Your eyes mesmerised by your creation, you hushed the monster inside the club. "Go ahead, and have your feast."

Pitch darkness engulfed the sky, the city bustling with all sorts of noises and the road heavy with passing vehicles, crowds roaming around the street and alleys.

Walking down the street with your succubus' aura oozing too much with the hot crimson dress hugging your figure had all eyes regardless of gender thirsting over you, even though you didn't try that hard. You smirked at that, you never fail to make them fall for you anyways; asking you for a date that you very well know what it leads to, you politely declined them as your appetite has gone to the drain for no reason.

Pushing the glass door opened, the chill air inside the shop enveloped your bare arms—blending with the red dust particles around your body, replacing the crimson dress hugging you hips into a plain blue shirt with a full covered cardigan and a black skirt.

"(Name)! What are you doing so late outside, don't you have no idea how dangerous it is?!" The old lady with the round glasses on top of her nose, smacked your shoulders with a long sigh.

"Gosh, aunt. Nothing to worry about, I took the cab."

"Still! That's no excuse, didn't you hear that a pervert is roaming around the neighbourhood and a few female students have gone missing?!"

You shook your head in amusement, letting her rant on and on. Oblivious she was to your real identity, as you had kept it as a secret for a couple of years already, moulding your human skin to that of a simple human girl. You tied up your hair to a messy bun, putting your apron on as you went to your daily routine.

Arranging the costumes.

This place belongs to the aunt who had scolded you a moment ago, it's a shop that stood upon the business of embroidering all sorts of costumes or cosplays. It stood firm before the busy street, customers spilling in and out from the entrance every single day as soon as the sun rises. You surely weren't the only worker here, as there are other three that weren't currently present. None of them knew your real form.

It has been nearly a thousand years after you've been banished from heaven, looking back to the night sky—you snickered at memory flashing through your mind; of your fragile form weeping on the heaven's holy entrance. Not that it's important anymore, but surely it's chaos above there isn't? A lot more chaos, you wish rather than pray, for what is there use to pray when the gods above loathed your very existence.

You loathe them too, tremendously even, for what did have they done but threw you out? They didn’t even bother to hear any words from your lips, only sealing it with their powers that you’ve come to hated so much.

The bell rang slightly, unnoticed by you since you were in your thoughts, and your hands weaving the threads altogether. A couple of light taps on the counter had your attention, turning your head to the customer. “Oh- welcome to-”

A bright, prince charming of an image stood before you, taking your breath away instantly as you stuttered along each word you uttered. “What can I help you with, sir?” suppressing the inner smirk threatening to raise the corners of your lips, he sure is damn dashing as hell enough for you to feed on later.

“Um, hi.” He paused, his eyes looking away every couple of seconds. You obviously can see how struck he was at you, by your charms and so on. You wish you could grab a popcorn as you watch his eyelashes fluttering and the roses dusted on his cheeks. “I-ah, cosplay? I had a halloween party this weekend, so I would like to have some customised angel costumes for me and my friends.”

Angel. How cute. He wants to cosplay as an angel? You snickered at that particular word, sure he does look dashing enough to resemble an angel but you sure hope that he atleast doesn’t possess the filthy traits that one particular god had.

“Sure, is there anything you would like to add on your costumes?”

You guided him through the boxes filled with dozens varieties of materials, and you watched him as he took his time in each one of them with the notes flipped open on your hand and a pen on your other, you didn’t need it all, to be honest. Names, words, places and every word you heard are fully ingrained in your mind, never to be forgotten once uttered. That’s why, you had so much trouble with the downside of this ability despite the wonders of it. But the veil of deception you lifted upon you are to be carefully and meticulously tweaked to utter perfection, what is there to complain anyways?

You caught him stealing a few glances at you, a bit amused at his childish actions—you approached him as you wore the seductive smile on your lips. “Is there anything you want help with, sir?” Oh, how bad you want to take him right now. But darkness hasn’t enveloped the sky, and it would be inappropriate to the owner of this shop. Huh? You held the need to laugh at the word, “inappropriate” as if there's anything “appropriate” left in you though?

“See, I’m only asking this since.. Never mind.” he voiced out.

“Go ahead, sir. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“Would you like to be my partner to the party?”

Sure, why not? You happily agreed to his request without any hesitation, what is there hit around the bush for nothing? That ain’t your style; first come, first serve—the golden rules remain the same no matter how many a thousand years had passed.

Yet..

"M-mister, I haven't done nothing, have I? P-please don't hurt me! I'm only a weak girl! There's nothing I could have done to anger you, did I?!" Your arm accidentally slid on the edge of the table, causing you to drop to your knees. Letting out a yelp in the process, your eyes begun tearing up. Lips trembling, you shook your head. "Who are you two?!"

The bustling noises of Halloween party oddly turn into a piercing silence of nothing, all the sounds of life had flee away from the space and only you remain. An ability that you recognise from someone in particular, someone that belongs to a particular kind of creature.

"Quit your act, we know who you are." Sunghoon approached you, the man who is supposedly your customer that asked you to be his partner a week ago. "Lady Succubus, isn't?"

An excruciating silence engulfed a couple of seconds after he uttered those words.

"Ugh, what a bummer. Let me act for a little awhile, yeah?" Your weeping face was replaced with amusement, a low disinterested tone enveloping your voice as you wiped off the tears from the corners of your eyes, getting up on your feet you did as you lazily look at their way. "Angels? It's been awhile since I saw one. I thought they had given up on tying me down. But.." pausing in getting a better look at the two.

They remained silent, not uttering anything yet highly alerted at your presence which has you a tad bit annoyed but after awhile—curiosity arises inside you which had you wondered how many did the angels did the gods sent to you this time? What kind of rules do they had amongst each other or who had the upper hand or who was the weakest?

"—didn't know the gods had such adorable baby angels with them?" You shrugged. "Couldn't they send a much bigger one with muscles or something.. but I'm not complaining."

“B-baby angels?!” Sunoo scoffed in return, “Please, for your information, we’re almost a thousand year old.”

“A thousand years?” Tapping your tongue inside your cheek, you winked at them. "Dom, or sub?"

Taken aback at your bold flirty gesture, Sunoo shook his head along with Sunghoon, tilting his head downwards in attempts to cover the light blush on his cheeks, whispering. "Ugh, she's so-"

‘Why are you even blushing?! Take control of yourself, you’re a high ranking angel!’

‘I know, I know!’ Sunoo screamed telepathically at Jay who interrupted him.

"We're here to capture you, I believe there's nothing to say anymore." said Sunghoon.

"Aw, baby boys like you are gonna do what? Capture me? Might as well tie me down with some rope or something?"

“That’s what we intended to do, actually.” Sunghoon lifted his index finger, taking one last look at Sunoo. "Bound her to the holy tower."

A neon blue light engraved in the speed of light on the ground, patterns of whom you recognised forms into chains and flew out from the ground before your very eyes, entangling your wrist and your neck in a thick metal collar which tightens almost immediately at your resistance.

"Tsk, this is not the rope I was asking for though. But how cute, you think this could do anything to me?" you snapped your thumb against your index finger, particles of crimson dust emerging from the tips—forming into a giant dust creatures that flew around their form, the horrendous long fingers of those creatures tightened around their neck which causes their spell to lose it’s activation on your form.

Something flashes across your line of vision, before you could react—a man in a white shirt and pants, black slicked hair and a tall frame hovering yours—raises his hand up the air, slapping your right cheek that it caused your line of vision pointing towards the ground.

Wiping the blood on the corner of your lip, you scoffed as your eyes fell on the man, seemingly unfazed. "You hit like a bitch, try harder."

Your words alone had his eyebrows twitching in utter annoyance, “I could hit you harder, brat. Sluts like you–”

“Oh, I didn’t know the recent generations of angels got such a feisty tongue. And how so? I’d prefer it... in another way tho.” Your words dusted off cherry hues on the boy's fair cheeks. "Aw, are you blushing?"

“Blushing for a slut like you? The goddesses above are more worthy than you who use such words in order to gain the favour of men.”

"Taking such tremendous pride in your status as an angel, what an awful thing to do."

"Unlike you, who are ungrateful. Drenching yourself in filth despite being given the opportunity by the gods to cultivate yourself to the highest rank of angels, that's what I call an idiot would only do." Jay raised his eyebrow.

You licked your tongues against your fangs, amusement laced in your voice. "A feisty angel indeed, what kind of training did they put you on to be this harsh? Why don't you come to me and see that I can do better?"

"You're nothing but filth, I would never lay my hand on you. Look at yourself."

"Ouch, am I supposed to get offended?" You raised your eyebrow at the boy whose piercing gaze never ceases. "Try harder."

"Quit reasoning with her, Jay." Jungwon appeared behind him, placing his palms on Jay's back. "She's a powerful succubus, remember. Stick with the mission."

"Fine." never breaking his glare at your soul, “No one’s going to save you anyways.”

Forming their hands into patterns were ultimately interrupted with a smoke emerging right before their eyes, your silhouette appearing out of it causing Jay's eyes to widened and his lips hanging apart by the close proximity between you and him; your nose almost brushing against his.

"Cinderella's dead, everybody." You muttered with a bored look on your face, clapping your palms together as you gaze deep into his soul. “Bold of you to assume that she’s still alive.”

「 © talesofyuan on tumblr 2023 」 all rights reserved. do not copy or post without permission.

TAGLIST: @xxvyjoy , @0102luvr

[vassia-sparta]

Daemon Soulmate AU - How the bond was discovered - Part 2

Here it is, the second part of my fic. I'm currently working on the last part, so stay tuned!

Part 1 here

Warning: Description of sexual situations, but barely, nothing explicit

The feast to celebrate the end of the tourney was proving to be quite spectacular. King Viserys had really gone overboard for his new wife, with so many delicious foods and the finest wines the kingdoms had to offer. Musicians with lovely voices sang all sorts of songs, and the guests danced to their heart’s delight, toasting to the health of the royal couple, wishing them many years of happy marriage, and for the Queen to give birth to many strong children.

You stood in a corner, sipping from your goblet, watching as everyone enjoyed the evening, while you sulked in your spot. Your father had tried to convince you to wear a magnificent black dress with yellow flowers embroidered on it, as a way of letting everyone know that you were to be a Baratheon soon, but you had put your foot down. It would be too scandalous to do such a thing when lord Borros had not even spoken of a betrothal yet, you argued, and thankfully enough your father had seen reason.

Instead, you had chosen a light pink silk dress with golden flowers embroidered all over the skirt and little white pearls stitched on the hem of the plunging neckline. It was almost indecent, but your father had insisted that it would attract lord Borros’s attention.

So far however, the Baratheon lord had spent most of the evening talking to some of the other lords, downing goblet after goblet of wine and laughing loudly at whatever jest one of them made. And now, as you watched, the man had actually fondled a serving maid when she placed a platter of roasted boar in front of him.

You sighed, looking away. You couldn’t imagine a future with this man, not a good one anyway. How were you to withstand your husband fondling the servants, spreading bastards all over the place, humiliating you again and again? You sent a prayer to the Gods to help save you from such a horrible fate.

They must not have heard you however, because the storm lord raised his gaze to you, giving you a dangerous smile before he excused himself from his friends and made his way to you.

“My lady, why do you stand here alone?” he asked, eyeing your bosom without even trying to be discreet.

“I like watching the dancers my lord, aren’t they mesmerizing?” you smiled politely at him.

“Perhaps we should join them then,” he offered his hand to you.

For a moment, you thought about declining, you even considered running as far away from him as possible, but of course you didn’t. You knew your father was watching you like a hawk, ready to reprimand you if you made a wrong move.

“Yes, perhaps we should,” you nodded, taking his hand and letting him lead you to the dance floor.

He wrapped his arm around your waist, his palm going way too low for decency, but you knew you couldn’t say anything. Instead, you tried to distract your mind with small talk.

“So, have you been enjoying your stay at the capital my lord?” you asked him.

“Not so much, after that bastard Daemon kicked me off the tourney, I’ve been aching to return home, it’s so boring here in King’s Landing.”

“Well, perhaps in the next tourney you will defeat him,” you offered, not sure what else to say.

“Of course I will, I’ll crush that cunt’s face with my hammer, then spit on his dead body,” the storm lord grunted.

“My lord, perhaps you should not be saying such things, after all he is a prince of the royal family.”

“Why not? It is well known he is a trouble maker, I’ll be doing the King a favor if I kill him. They might even reward me for it,” the moron guffawed, his belly jiggling.

You didn’t say anything, hoping no one around you had heard him. It could be considered treason to speak like that, and his head would roll before he could stop his laughter. You decided to change topics, hoping that it would help with the flow of the conversation.

“What is Storm’s End like my lord? I’ve heard that its walls are so thick, no battering ram can hurt them and no catapult can send a stone over them.”

“That’s true, it’s impenetrable to any siege or attack. The last poor soul who tried lost his head. It’s still on a spike on the parapets. When you come visit, I’ll show it to you.”

You noticed that, with every turn, he would look down at your bosom, and lick his lips. That made you really uncomfortable, so you wracked your mind, trying to find something to keep his mind occupied.

“Is it true that the storms are huge, and that lots of ships have crashed on the bay below, so much that no lord has ever dared to leave their fleet there?”

“You certainly like those silly stories, don’t you?” lord Borros laughed, glancing at a serving maid passing by him. “Well,” he turned back to you, “you will have all the time to observe the great storms of my lands when we are wed.”

His statement took you aback.

“Wed? What are you talking about?” you asked him, eyes wide.

“Come now girl,” he scoffed, squeezing your body onto him. “We both know your father has instructed you to enchant me and make me ask for your hand. I don’t blame him, a man of an insignificant house from the Riverlands, of course he would want his daughter to marry a powerful and rich lord like me. Tell you what,” he leaned in to whisper to your ear, “come to my chambers tonight, and if you please me enough, I will give your father the betrothal he so desires.”

Words cannot describe the horror and disgust that flooded your body. You tried to disentangle yourself from his embrace, but to no avail. He was too strong for you.

“Don’t try to pretend you are a silly airheaded maiden,” the horrifying man smirked. “If you are good enough tonight, I will ask your father for your hand. But you should know that you cannot expect me to remain faithful to you throughout our marriage, you understand that, right?”

Anger filled your mind, and you glared at this sorry excuse of a man.

“Let me go,” you merely grunted, but this only seemed to amuse him further.

“Ah, you have some spunk in you, I like it. I shall enjoy taming you tonight.”

“I will not come to your chambers tonight, or any other night. Let me go, now,” you demanded, squirming in his embrace.

“If I let you go, you will be finished,” the arrogant bastard sneered at you. “One word from me, and everyone will know that you gave yourself to me, begging me to fuck you like the whore that you are.”

You were actually contemplating sticking your fingers right into his eyes and poke them out, when another voice interrupted you.

“Lord Borros, my brother wanted to have a word with you.”

You had no idea how he did it, but the moment you heard that slow purr of his, all your fear drained your body, and that strange warmth replaced it.

Lord Baratheon turned towards prince Daemon with annoyance, but nodded, finally releasing you from his grip. He did hold on to your hand though, giving it a sloppy kiss, gazing at you with a leer.

“I’ll be right back my lady, don’t you go wondering off now,” he whispered, winking at you before he let go and went to see what the King wanted to talk about.

Prince Daemon turned to you, offering his hand.

“Would you like to dance my lady?”

You knew that you shouldn’t accept his offer. If your father could see you, he’d be glaring at you, that was certain. And yet, you took the prince’s hand, allowing him to twirl you around with the music, his other hand slipping around your waist like it belonged there.

He didn’t say anything, he just kept staring at you, those violet eyes of his calling out to you like a moth to a flame. You felt the rest of the world around you fade away, as if it was just you and him in the room. You didn’t care about Lord Borros’s disgusting offer, about how he was so sure you were going to do as he asked, despite your refusal. You didn’t care about the gossip that was probably already flaring at the sight of you and the dragon prince dancing, especially after his little stunt at the tourney grounds earlier today. You didn’t care about the scolding you would most likely receive from your father once this dance was over. You only cared about the warm hand wrapped around your waist, the intense gaze of the rogue dragon stripping you bare, the sudden urge you had to lean up and kiss those pale pink lips of his.

That last one almost made you lose your footing. How could you be feeling this way?

As if he could read your thoughts, prince Daemon glanced at your lips, making your cheeks blush. You could only hope he’d think it was due to the constant dancing.

“My lady, are you alright? You seem to have lost your tongue,” he observed, that smirk of his infuriating you and, at the same time, making your stomach flutter.

“I have not lost it my prince, I just choose to not use it,” you shrugged, trying to act as if he didn’t affect you as much as he did. “You should try it sometime.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” his smirk widened, “I’ve been known to be quite talented with my tongue my lady. Not putting it to good use seems such a waste, don’t you think?”

You knew that his comment should infuriate you, but for some reason it didn’t. Strange images filled your mind.

Daemon’s face between your legs, his tongue tasting you, making you writhe in ecstasy.

This time, it was his strong grip on your waist that spared you from tripping over and falling on your face. You resumed you steps, your mind racing. Where had that scandalous thought come from?

The dance thankfully ended, and you curtsied quickly, thanking him for his time before you made your way to your seat. You emptied your goblet in one go, pouring another one right away before draining that one as well. You dared to look around, but you couldn’t find the dragon prince anywhere.

Just as well, you thought. Playing with fire was never a good idea; sooner or later, you were bound to get burned.

You spotted lord Borros looking around for someone, probably you, so quickly but discreetly you got up and hid behind one of the pillars, praying that he hadn’t seen you. Peaking just a bit, you saw that another lord had caught his attention, so you hurried to make your way out of the hall. You didn’t care if you got an earful from your father. You needed clean air.

You walked the empty corridors of the Red Keep, making sure not to cross paths with anyone, if only to avoid any unwanted questions. Finally, you found yourself in one of the many gardens the castle had. It was absolutely deserted, the perfect place to ease your thumping heart and get your mind in order.

You sat on one of the wooden benches, listening to the crickets and the owls singing their nightly song. It was so peaceful, so beautiful to finally be left at peace for a change. You could almost pretend you were somewhere far away from here, in a safe place where no one could disturb you. It seemed too good to be true.

A soft noise from somewhere behind you broke through your pleasant fantasy, bringing you crashing back into reality.

You turned around and saw prince Daemon leaning against one of the walls, watching you with interest.

“Can I help you my prince?” you asked, cursing your voice for wavering a bit.

“I saw you leave in a hurry and felt concerned about you,” he shrugged, toying with a vine creeping up the wall next to him. “Why did you run away my lady?”

“I just needed some fresh air, the atmosphere in there is a bit overwhelming,” you lied through your teeth, hoping you were convincing enough.

“Really?” the prince questioned, pushing off the wall and taking a few steps closer to you. “Because to me it looked like you were running for your life.”

“I assure you that your observation could not be further from the truth,” you shook your head. “I got a bit tired, and thought to change my scenery a bit before I returned to the festivities. In fact, I think I am well enough to return, if you’ll excuse me,” you started to make your way back to the hall, only for the prince to step in your path, making you stop abruptly, almost crashing into him.

“What did that oaf tell you that got you so angry?”

His question took you by surprise. Someone had indeed noticed your discomfort, but it was the worst possible person to do so.

“I…I don’t know what you are talking about,” you shook your head, looking away.

You felt a warm hand touching your chin, turning it so you came face to face with those damn violet eyes once more.

“When you danced with that brutish moron, you looked ready to tear him to pieces and feed him to the dogs. I could feel your anger, your desire to carve him up and leave him for the vultures. So,” the prince insisted, glancing fleetingly at your lips, “I’m asking you again. What did he say to you?”

You knew you should keep your mouth shut. Logic dictated that, even if you did tell him what lord Borros had asked of you, he of all people would not oppose to the idea. His reputation as a frequent customer of the city’s brothels was well known. How could a man who had not even honored his lady wife understand the predicament lord Borros had brought you into?

“He asked me to sleep with him tonight, and if I please him, he will ask for my hand tomorrow.”

You half-expected him to laugh, to congratulate the storm lord for his suggestion. Instead, white-hot fury flashed in his eyes, so sudden and intense that you could feel it yourself coursing through your body. His grip on your chin was still gentle, yet his posture stiffened, his breath coming out harsh.

“I’m going to geld him and send him to the Wall,” he growled, actually growled, and you swore you could feel the dragon in him, rearing his head, ready to spew out fire and turn his enemies into ashes.

He let you go and turned to head back to the hall. Purely out of instinct, you grabbed his arm, stopping him from taking any further steps.

“What are you going to do?” you asked, panic making you shake like a leaf.

“Exactly as I said,” he said, shaking his arm free of our grip.

You hurried after him, catching up with him just as he exited the gardens.

“You can’t do that!” you exclaimed.

“Why not?” the prince challenged, his eyes flashing as he half turned towards you.

“He is the lord of Storm’s End!”

“And I am a prince of the realm,” the rogue dragon sneered, his head raising with arrogance.

“But you have no reason to punish him.”

“He made improper comments to you, and he asked you to compromise your honor, that is more than enough reason.”

“And who is going to believe my word over his?” you almost shouted, your anger breaking through your calm demeanor.

That stopped the prince from taking any more steps. He turned to face you, confusion marring his handsome face.

“What do you mean?”

You sighed, this whole night taking its toll on you.

“I am a daughter of a small house from the Riverlands. You think the people would believe me, a woman from a place of no importance and with no significant allies, or the word of the man ruling over the Stormlands? My reputation will be ruined, and I will never be able to marry anyone of importance.”

“So that is what you care about, marrying into a rich and wealthy family?”

“No,” you shook you head, looking away. “If I had it my way, I’d marry for love. But I know that is not possible for the firstborn daughter of a noble house. We are doomed to marry as our fathers see fit.”

“So you will give yourself to him, knowing that he can just as well reject you once he is done with you?”

“What choice do I have?” you exclaimed, you fury unchecked now. “If I tell my father about this, he will surely push me to comply with that monster’s wishes. He is willing to sacrifice anything in his power to achieve his goals, including my honor. I don’t have anyone else to turn to, no relative will take me in and risk my father’s displeasure.”

“You can talk about this with the king, or Rhaenyra, she will most definitely help you,” the prince suggested.

“I think the princess has more important things to think about that a stranger girl whining about her bad luck in suitors. No,” you shook your head, determined, “this is my problem to deal with. No one is to get involved, and that includes you as well,” you pointed at the prince. “Whatever I decide, I will do so on my own.”

He walked up to you, his eyes intense, but somehow that didn’t scare you. It brought that strange warmth in you again.

“You are going to walk in there and tell that oaf that you will not be joining him in his rooms tonight, or any other night.”

He didn’t even ask, he actually ordered you. You laughed humorlessly.

“And what am I going to tell my father when he hears that I wasn’t able to achieve the task he set for me?”

His hand slithered up your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. He pulled your face closer to his, your breaths mingling together. You knew, deep down, you should be afraid. You should be pulling free of him, running away from this dangerous man, but you still stood here before him, your heart beating so fast, you were certain he could hear it too.

The dragon prince’s lips touched yours, a feathery touch that jolted your entire being, shook you to your very core, but in the best way possible. You were certain you had died, or maybe you were in your bed, dreaming. There was no way this was actually happening to you. It felt too good to be true.

You closed your eyes, letting this amazing sensation wash you over, overwhelm you and take you with it. You felt a strong hand wrapping itself around your waist, and you realized Daemon was pulling you towards him, your bodies molding together, the perfect half finding its match in the other. You lifted your arms, locking them around his neck, pulling him even closer to you, if that was possible. His lips moved against yours, a soft moan echoing in the empty garden. You belatedly realized that it had come from you.

Both of Daemon’s arms wrapped around you as he continued kissing you, making sure you were unable to escape him, not that you’d ever do that. You’d rather die than leave his embrace.

His tongue caressed your lower lip, and you gasped, surprised at the new sensation. He took this opportunity and slipped his tongue in your mouth, and a whole new set of feelings attacked your senses. He tasted of wine, with a soft touch of strawberries, and something else that was probably his own taste. It didn’t matter; you loved it most of all, and couldn’t get enough of it. Your tongues danced their own dance, teasing, testing, exploring. Your whole body hummed with a need, you didn’t know exactly what, but you knew you needed it now.

You broke off a while later, only because you both needed to breathe. Daemon didn’t waste any time though. He attacked your lips anew, while lifting you off your feet and making a small turn. Your back felt the hard stone wall of the corridor as Daemon pushed you up against it. You could feel his battle hardened lean body pressing against your curves, the friction and pressure stocking on the fire burning low in your belly.

He tore his mouth from yours, making you whine in protest, but the whine soon turned into a moan as he started peppering your neck with soft kisses and bites, which he soothed with his tongue. You wrapped your hands around his torso, pulling him onto you, trying to get as close to him as you could with all the clothes separating you.

Daemon descended from your neck, nipping at the skin of your bosom, driving you mad with need.

“Daemon,” you gasped, lifting your chest, offering yourself to him.

He lifted his head to gaze at you, and you saw how wide his eyes were, the irises completely blown, that lovely shade of violet barely visible.

You attacked him like a wild animal, kissing him with a passion you had no idea you possessed.

You felt him groan, pushing his hips against yours as he kissed you deeply. You could feel his cock, hard as a steel rod, poking at you through his trousers, demanding your attention. You moaned, wanting more of it, you had no idea what, but you knew you wanted it, and you wanted it now.

He broke off the kiss, both of you standing still, breathing heavily. He lifted his head to look at you, and you could see the primal need, the hunger he had for you, a hunger you knew he could see in your eyes.

Before you could pull him for another kiss, a thunderous laughter echoed throughout the garden, breaking through your hazy mind, accompanied by a girlish giggle. You turned towards the location of the noise and saw lord Borros, clearly drunk, his arm around some girl’s waist, the two of them stumbling off towards the stairs that led to the guest rooms. Thankfully enough neither of them had noticed you.

“Looks like your intended found someone else to spend his night with,” Daemon whispered, his voice rougher than you remembered. It sent shivers down your spine, pleasant shivers.

“He could go to the Seven Hells for all I care,” you smirked at him, the hunger growing.

“And your father?”

“He can join the bastard in hell too,” you spat, anger filling you, but only for a little. The waves of passion were too strong to be calmed now.

“Good,” Daemon smirked, attacking your lips again.

You relished in the feeling of his lips, the way his hands roamed down your back, caressing your bottom before reaching the back of your thigh. He gripped your leg, pulling it up. You instinctively wrapped it around his waist, and he groaned once more as he pushed into you over your smallclothes, making you groan with pleasure.

More voices came from nearby, and Daemon cursed under his tongue, pulling back a bit, turning towards that direction.

“The feast must be almost over,” you gasped, trying to kiss him once more.

“Yes,” he grunted, still rocking into you, if only slightly, as he did it without thinking about it.

“Take me to your room,” you whispered, and even you were surprised at your forward nature. You really were asking him exactly what that moron Baratheon had asked of you.

He looked at you with those dark eyes of his, contemplating for a while before lowering his head in defeat.

“No.”

One small word, and the fire was drowned, as if he had dropped a bucket of ice water on your head.

You pulled away from him almost violently, not sure if you would attack him to kiss him once more, or poke his eyes out for making you feel so good, only to steal the feeling away with a single word.

You glared at him something fierce, fire licking at your veins. You didn’t say anything else, only took off to your chambers, ignoring his calls as you ran away.

That night, you cried yourself to sleep, cursing yourself for letting yourself fall in his trap. Now you knew why everyone warned women to stay away from him. He only wanted to use women for his own pleasure, he would never take them seriously.

You stared at the ceiling, trying to understand him. How could he be so full of passion and need the one minute, only to turn you down when you willingly offered yourself to him?

You decided to stay as far away from him as you could, and promised to double your efforts in winning lord Borros. He was the goal, the reason your father had brought you here. Tomorrow night, you’d go to his chambers, give yourself to him, marry him and make sure you never came across the Rogue Prince ever again.

--

Daemon didn’t get a wink of sleep after the feast, tossing and turning in his bed all night. He had not even considered going down to the Street of Silk to ease the discomfort his feisty lady had caused him. He knew that, no matter how many women he fucked, he would never be fully satisfied. Only she could, and he would never take her up on her offer. Those feelings she had awoken, whatever they were, they were too strong. So strong, they frightened him.

Daemon had never been afraid of anything. Not when he had been exiled, not even when he had gone to face the Crabfeeder all by himself. Fear was an alien emotion to him, and yet this woman frightened him with her offer, an offer he would have gladly accepted if it had been any other woman. He had slept with numerous women in his life, and each one had been good only for as long as he took his pleasure. He didn’t give them a second thought afterwards, moving on like nothing had happened.

But this one… She was different. It awoke strange thoughts in his mind, thoughts that he never expected to have for any woman. He didn’t want to have her just for one night. He wanted her forever, to have her beside him until the end of time. He could easily imagine himself with her, sitting in the garden she liked so much, their children around them, everyone so happy and content.

The image was so vivid, it shook him to his very core. Daemon never believed much in love. He had witnessed what it can do, how it can make a man lose the light from his eyes and become a shadow of his former self. After his mother had died 6 months after she gave birth to his little brother, his father had never been the same. The babe had followed her to the grave soon after, and his father aged a decade in just one year, barely able to smile for his two remaining sons.

He also remembered how Viserys was after he lost his Aemma. No, Daemon shook his head, love was a dangerous thing. He wanted no part of it.

And yet, he could not get her out of his mind. The feel of her body against his, the sounds she made when he kissed her, the warmth of her body when he pressed her against the wall…

He shook his head violently, trying to cast the thoughts away, but in vain. They tormented him all night, not letting him have even the slightest amount of sleep.

A little after dawn, he rose from his bed, got dressed and headed out to find his brother, the King. Maybe he would be able to help him figure out what was going on with him and why he could not stop thinking about her.

He found the King in his bedchamber, surrounded by the enormous stone model of the Valyrian Freehold. Viserys had been trying to carve a chimera out of a small piece of limestone, when Daemon entered.

His brother gazed up at him, smiling.

“This is a rare occurrence. What brings you to me brother?”

“I seem to be losing my mind,” Daemon replied, pacing back and forth, never staying in one place for long.

“What troubles you?” the king asked, concerned.

“I can’t get a woman out of my head. Everything I think about, everything I feel, they all lead back to her. I’m starting to think she has put a spell on me.”

The King rose from his seat, observing his brother closely for a few minutes, before bursting into hearty laughter.

Daemon glared at him, angry that his brother would choose such a difficult time to make fun of him.

“I fail to see what is so amusing to you brother, unless it is my anger and frustration that caused your mirth,” he spat, never ceasing his pacing.

Viserys approached his brother, his laughter diminishing to a mere chuckle. He patted his younger brother on the back, smiling fondly.

“Daemon, it seems you finally found the woman who holds your heart.”

Daemon pulled away from his brother’s grasp, looking away, hoping his eyes wouldn’t betray him.

“Don’t be absurd Viserys, how can I be in love with a woman I barely know?” he exclaimed.

“You don’t need to know her that well to fall in love with her brother,” Viserys shook his head. “If she is the one for you, then you only need a few moments with her to know that you are destined to be with her.”

Daemon huffed, heading towards a table nearby, filling a goblet with wine and downing it all in one go.

“Who is she?” the King asked.

Daemon ignored him, pouring more wine into the goblet.

“Come now brother, I know you did not come all the way here to keep silent on the matter. You came here to discuss this with your older brother, so sit down and start talking.”

Though Daemon wanted to refuse, he eventually sat down across from his brother, nursing his wine, scowling into the depths of the dark liquid.

“Ever since I saw her, I have been having all these feelings, strange emotions overwhelm me, it’s like I’m losing control of my body. How can I be feeling like this about a woman I don’t even know?”

The King smiled at his brother.

“This is what usually happens Daemon, when one meets the love of their life. That was how I felt when I first saw Aemma.”

Viserys’s gaze turned melancholic, memories of his late wife’s lovely face smiling at him coming in his mind.

“But it’s not just that,” Daemon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know that some say they know when their husband or wife are feeling sad or happy, but I swear to you, I can actually feel it. Last night, when she was dancing with that Baratheon cunt, I could feel her disgust, her anger at him.”

Viserys listened to what his brother said, watching him closely.

“What else have you observed about her?”

“I told you, it’s unnatural, entirely not possible, but I swear I can feel her, like she is a part of me. I can even tell you where she is right now, if I concentrate enough. I’m either losing my mind, or she has put a spell on me somehow.”

The King’s eyes widened, his mouth opening in surprise.

“Daemon, you’ve found your other half.”

The Rogue Prince rose from his seat, turning towards the open balcony doors.

“You are being absurd. Love is not a feeling I understand. Passion, yes, anger, sorrow, even happiness, I can feel those, but do not expect me to believe that I fell in love with her simply because I saw her a handful of times. I am attracted to her, but love is too big of a word for me.”

“No Daemon, you don’t understand,” the king rose from his seat and headed for his personal library in an alcove next to the bedchamber. Here he kept all the books that he loved the most, close by if he wished to indulge in some reading.

He pulled one of the oldest tomes if the collection and brought it to the table.

“Do you remember when our mother told us of the old tales from Valyria? How they believed in magic, in the connections between people?”

Daemon turned to look at his brother, confusion all over his handsome face.

“What of it?”

“There was this one myth, about how a few rare Valyrians had the luck to find what is called their soulmate. When they did, a certain bond was formed between the two, one so strong they could actually feel what the other felt.”

Viserys turned the pages until he found the chapter he wanted.

“See? The first of the signs that you have found your soulmate is the ability to know what the other feels, as if you experienced it yourself.”

Daemon approached cautiously, as if the book would hurt him. He read the passage, but shook his head in defiance.

“Those are just tales brother, things like that don’t happen,” he scoffed.

“You cannot deny that magic flows through our veins Daemon. Our ability to bond with our dragons is more than enough proof, not to mention the rare cases of dreamers. It was because of Daenys the Dreamer that our family escaped the Doom. Magic does exist in this world, and this is probably another rare form of it.”

He continued reading the chapter in silence, while Daemon tried to understand what his brother was suggesting. He remembered that strange warm feeling that filled him when he locked gazes with you, but he had dismissed it as the thrill of the victory. Being the prince, he had come across many women who would make eyes at him. Most of them only wanted him for his station, for the thrill of being with a member of the royal family. Others avoided him due to his reputation. But you, you had looked at him like you saw only him. Not the royal blood, not the roguish ways, not the ever-present smirk, just him, a man trying to prove himself to the world, all the while fighting the enemies of his brother, as well as his own demons.

“When did you first realize you could feel what she feels?” Viserys questioned, bringing Daemon out of his deep thoughts.

The prince thought about it for a moment.

“At the tourney, when I brought her favor back to her, after the fight ended.”

“Ah yes, that had the people gossiping,” the King smiled softly.

“I walked up to her and handed her the wreath, but her gaze left me speechless, paralyzed before her.”

“Exactly as it is described in the book,” Viserys nodded, pointing to a particular passage. “The first contact is usually made when the two soulmates lock gazes. After that, the bond is formed, and it grows stronger when the couple spends more time together. Any emotion one feels, so does the other.”

Daemon paused, remembering how he felt during the feast the night before, when he saw you dancing with your intended. Anger had consumed him, as well as disgust and fear. He had reacted purely out of instinct when he came to separate you from lord Baratheon. And then you had danced, and everything and everyone had faded, as if you were alone in the room.

The prince stared at his brother, who was smiling softly at him.

“Do you really think she could be my other half?” he asked him.

“Well, try and imagine your life without her. Think of her married to lord Baratheon, pregnant with his child, staying in Storm’s End for the rest of her life, until the Stranger claims her. How does that make you feel?”

A sense of absolute sadness and depression filled Daemon, his heart almost stopping at the thought of you belonging to someone else. He knew that lord Borros would never treat you properly, he’d never love you as you were meant to be loved. The very thought of that oaf touching you, fucking you, it made him want to kill someone.

The king rose from his seat and approached his brother.

“Go to her,” he said. “It is indeed a rare thing for someone to find their soulmate. Don’t lose her Daemon. Lord Borros is set to leave soon, and if he proposes to her, her father will make sure the marriage is done as quickly as possible.”

Daemon’s heart filled with resolve. He nodded at his brother, then turned towards the door. He would make sure to find you and ask you to be his, before it was too late.

--

Hope you guys liked it, I'll be posting the third and final part as soon as I possibly can!

[navnae]

Step On Me (18+)

🔞NSFW🔞

Paring: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Warnings: blowjobs, boot worship, c*ck and ball torture, semi in public, shameless smut, c*m swallowing

-

“These are amazing. I love them!”

Those were the words that Eddie told Steve when he got him a pair of platform boots that were glistening under the light, the leather was freshly cleaned and smelled amazing out of the box. Steve loved how they matched Eddie’s black nail polish that were sparkling because of a top coat of glitter that he applied earlier. Eddie was smiling from ear to ear as he held the boots in his hands and he took in the appearance of them. He already had in mind what kind of outfits he was going to put together with them. Steve knew that Eddie would mostly wear the boots for his performances and that’s what he what he was excited for. It wasn’t long before Eddie did exactly that, Corroded Coffin went on stage one evening and the boots made a special appearance just like Steve predicted. He watched Eddie walking around the stage while singing then tapping the boots with every beat that he could hear. Steve had to admit that he was mesmerized by the way Eddie moved so gracefully in them and somehow looking sexier than ever. His every movement was calculated perfectly when it came to following the rhythm, Eddie’s hands roamed over his stomach then to his chest as he sung the chorus softly letting his head tilt back revealing his neck that begged to be marked. When the song reached the climax Eddie stomped his foot down hard onto the stage making Steve flinch slightly from the side of the stage.

Steve didn’t know what took over his body but the more he watched Eddie on stage stomping the harder he started to become. His pants were getting painfully tight as he thought about being underneath Eddie’s thick boots and letting the rough ridges bruise his skin and he’d become putty in Eddie’s hands. Steve blushed when he looked down at the front of his pants just to see a damp patch along the crotch area, it was so embarrassing for him to want something so bad but he needed it more than anything. Steve’s prayers were answered the second Eddie was dismissed from the stage to take a little break before performing again. Eddie went ahead to his dressing room and expected to see his makeup artist ready to tidy up his makeup or his stylist to be standing there with a new outfit for him to wear on stage. Instead Eddie was met with his back slamming against the door before he could even close it and soft lips roughly brushing across his. Familiar hands pulled Eddie by the waist while lowering the kisses further down his neck. After a few seconds Eddie finally opened his eyes processing the sight of Steve touching him hungrily.

“Jesus, Harrington. Don’t you think this can wait til we get home?” Eddie joked. His laugh was turned into a moan as Steve nipped at his skin causing him to whine a little. Steve couldn’t think straight, now when Eddie looked fucking delicious. Letting his thoughts get the best of him Steve slowly kneeled down in front of Eddie and planted kisses on the fabric that were tightly around Eddie’s thighs. Steve’s hands cupped Eddie’s ass giving it a tight squeeze while kissing dangerously close to his throbbing cock. A small whine escaped Eddie’s lips as Steve messily sucked the outline of Eddie’s erection through the pants making a mess of them.

“No. I want you now.” Steve said pulling away from Eddie’s pants. He looked up at Eddie with dark eyes and usually Eddie was the one who initiated everything but this time he was truly speechless with his cheeks turning a bright shade of red.

“When did you get to be put in charge?” Eddie tried to play off his hands shaking by running his fingers through Steve’s hair and hide his flustered face with his other. Steve grabbed Eddie’s wrist that was resting in his hair and gently brought it closer to his face. He took Eddie’s hand then kissed his fingers softly, lingering the kisses on each digit as his gaze became intense with Eddie looking down at him.

“Ever since you decided to look this good.” Steve responded. Eddie’s eyes widened from the bold response Steve gave him and he honestly didn’t mind seeing this side of Steve since it kept things interesting. Eddie managed to gather himself and he caressed the side of Steve’s face rubbing his thumb against his soft skin.

“You’ve been so eager tonight, what is it you want from me baby?” Eddie asked sweetly. Steve’s eyes lit up at the question and before he realized what he was doing his hand was lifting up Eddie’s boot. Eddie raised a brow out of confusion.

“These. I want you to step on me with these.” Steve said desperately while holding Eddie’s boot in his hand and his cock twitching just from the thought. Eddie didn’t have any reaction at first,, he was letting what he was hearing register. Steve prepared himself to beg at this point and Eddie was making him wait longer than he wanted to. Eddie laughed lowly at Steve’s desperate facial expression.

“If that’s what you want I can definitely do that for you. Go ahead and pull that pretty cock out for me baby.” Eddie cooed. Steve didn’t hesitate in the slightest and he took out his cock along with his balls letting them hang over his jeans. Eddie raised his foot to give Steve’s tip a little nudge making his whine at the feeling. “You remember your colors right?”

“Yes.” Steve answered quickly. This routine was normal for them and even though sometimes he hated it he still loved that Eddie went out of his way to communicate with him about everything.

“What is your color?” Eddie asked. He guided his fingers ask for Steve’s jaw while giving him a soft smile. Steve could melt from Eddie’s touch, precum already dripping from his tip because he was waiting for so long. He almost cried out in response instead of giving Eddie a reasonable answer that made sense.

“Green.” Steve said faster than his brain could even wrap around what he said. Eddie laughed lightly then nodded his head. He lifted his foot like before and let the tip of his boot run over Steve’s cock that was turning into a dark shade of red. Steve flinched as a moan escaped his lip and he dug his nails into his knees.

Eddie continued rubbing his boot over Steve’s base and creating a little bit of friction. Small moans came from Steve while he watched over the boot, mesmerized by how the leather shined from the dressing room lights. Steve was too caught up in the boots to realize that Eddie pulled his foot away little before stomping hard on Steve’s cock. Steve grunted at the immediate pain that ran through him and his body feel forward, his hands sprawled on the floor as he tried to catch his breath. He was still painfully hard and wanted Eddie to give him that feeling again. After a few seconds to regain himself eventually he leaned back up onto his knees revealing his aching cock dripping onto the floor and reddened from the sudden stomp. Eddie didn’t think he would feel so much pleasure from seeing Steve in pain but watching the tears build up in his eyes while being in his knees waiting for more really did something to him.

“This is truly pathetic, Harrington. On your knees just for me to ruin that pretty little cock of yours. How do you think Hawkins would react if they saw king Steve doing this?” Eddie’s voice was low and there was no sigh of sweetness anywhere in it. Steve felt embarrassed under Eddie’s gaze but his cock still throbbed nonetheless at the thought of his old friends watching him do something this pathetic. Eddie pushed his boot further onto Steve’s ball sack and added an intense amount of pressure on them. Steve cried out as his balls were completely smothered underneath Eddie’s rigid soles. They were turning white and the veins that ran through them looked like they were going to pop at any second. Tears were falling down Steve’s cheeks the harder Eddie stepped on the sensitive area.

Eddie groaned at the sight of Steve moaning from him stepping on his cock, his own erection was getting worse and he needed to do something about it. Eddie unzipped his pants before pulling out his hardened cock and placing it against Steve’s lips. He tangled his fingers in Steve’s hair then gave it a pull making him open his mouth to let out his desperate moans. Eddie shoved his cock into Steve’s mouth without warning and Steve took all of him in one go.

“Look at you. You’re such a fucking mess right now and you take my cock without hesitation. I want you to swallow all of my cum when I’m done with you, if there’s any messes you’ll be punished.” Eddie said firmly. He stopped hard on Steve’s cock and a loud cry came from him, the vibrations going through Eddie’s body. Steve cried while he bobbed his head and licking all over Eddie’s cock like a slut. He wrapped his hands around the base to storks it, creating his own pace as he continued to bob his head letting Eddie’s cock hit the back of his throat repeatedly. Eddie leaned back against the door and held onto the door handle to balance himself. His legs shook as Steve went faster with his movements and he tightened his grip in Steve’s hair. Eddie didn’t expect any of this from Steve, he felt like he was going to cum in any second.

“Steve… fuck… s-shit.” Eddie moaned. His hips stuttered as he thrusted into Steve’s mouth and saying all kinds of curses until he came hard into Steve’s mouth. Steve swallowed the warm substance whole and just like Eddie requested earlier he didn’t let one drop spill anywhere. Eddie could barely breath from looking at Steve’s fucked expression, his cheeks were a shade of pink, his hair was a mess, and his eyes were low as if he was about to fall asleep. Truly beautiful in Eddie’s eyes. Eddie cupped the side of Steve’s face and smiled down at him. “You did amazing, baby.”

Steve was dazed at this point but he knew that he made Eddie proud. That didn’t last long because when Eddie fully looked down at ground he shook his head disappointedly. Steve’s cum was on Eddie’s boots and he didn’t even touch himself to make such a big mess. He blushed deeply as he looked away from Eddie’s gaze.

“What a shame. I thought you were doing so well for me a few seconds ago, I guess I was wrong.” Eddie sighed. Steve hated hearing Eddie disappointed in him especially when he knows he tried to follow his orders. Steve’s head was turned by Eddie’s finger under his chin making him meet his gaze again. “You know what you have to do to clean these right?”

Steve didn’t need Eddie to tell him exactly what to do or guide him in the slightest. He slid back a little on his knees then placed his hands on the floor before leaning down and licking the toe of Eddie’s boots. The leather mixed with his own cum melted on his tastebuds. He licked generously along the sides of the boot that didn’t even have cum in it and lost himself when he got used to licking them. After awhile Eddie couldn’t see anymore cum on his boots but Steve wasn’t stopping as he kept his grip tight around Eddie’s ankle and he proceeded to lick those boots clean like his life depended on it. Eddie was taken aback when Steve lifted up his foot and before he could get a word out, Steve’s tongue darted out towards the bottom of Eddie’s boots which were obviously the dirtiest part of them and Steve didn’t mind any of it. Eddie scrunched up his face in disgust but he was starting to get hard again. Steve moaned against the boot while letting his tongue explore it then he moved on to the other one and did the same thing. Taking Eddie’s other ankle into his hand then lifting up his foot to get access to the bottom of the boot. Eddie ran a hand through his curls trying to calm himself down, he was so close to saying fuck the whole show and fucking Steve right in the dressing room.

“Fuck… have you always been this desperate and disgusting, Harrington? Or is this a new habit that you wanted to show me tonight?” Eddie teased and laughed lowly. Steve’s only response was to moan when Eddie degraded him, it was the hottest thing when Eddie did it. His tongue was starting to get sore from the rough surface on the boot and he gave it one last final kick before pulling away with a string of spit dripping onto his chin. Steve looked up at Eddie who was smiling at him and he caressed the side of Steve’s face showing that he was proud of him. “Such a good boy for me. I think I’m going to give you a reward when we get home how does that sound?”

“That sounds good.” Steve said softly with a wide smile. Eddie leaned down to kiss his cheek and helped him up off the ground. Both of them needed to hurry back before everyone started to become suspicious. Just like when he first got on stage, Eddie’s boots looked amazing and Steve smiled to himself hoping that they could put them to good use again

[illneverrecover]

static voice pt 2 | kth (M)

➛pairing: Demon Taehyung x Fallen Angel Reader (ft. bff Angel Jin) ➛summary: It's been weeks since his healing, and yet you still have a lingering demon house guest - something your best friend isn't going to let you ignore. However, with more time that passes, you realize... do you even want him to leave? ➛genre: Angel/Demon!AU, fluff, humor, eventual smut ➛word count: 3741 ➛rating: 18+ for this installment, please check each part for rating as there will be smut ➛warnings: cursing, some quick descriptions of violence, some heavy petting. ➛notes: Demon Taehyung demanded a full story line, and here we are. Shout out to static voice anon who started this whole thing by sending a simple ask -- you have no idea how much your encouragement means! And as always, sending love to @allbutmemorywillfade who sent in the original prompt which lead to the creation of these sweet dinguses, and who has been nothing but supportive & kind. You're too good to me 🖤 This is rough edited and unbeta'd bc I have no patience whatsoever. ➛song: Mine - Sleep Token & I Can See You - Taylor Swift ➛tagging: @jimins-ass-eater, @quinnkoo, @thatlongspringnight​

It’s Sunday morning, and there is currently a demon folding laundry on your bed.

Everything about that sentence should be blasphemous, and yet, it’s become normal. Well, normal for you. Certainly not normal for any other Fallen you’ve ever known. 

Taehyung’s brow furrows as he concentrates, sorting the mass of clothes first into piles before making way to fold each piece. His hands are precise, fingers lining up each seam as he works, eyes only leaving his work to dart towards the TV playing something in the background. He liked having something on for noise, he had explained, and who were you to question someone willing to fold your clothes?

Jin would say that your use of that argument is what led to having a demon for a roommate in the first place, which is exactly why you keep these kinds of thoughts to yourself - you didn’t ask for that kind of negativity. 

Not that there was any downside that you could see. Sure, you hadn’t asked Taehyung what his plan was yet, but you also hadn’t needed to. He was the epitome of a perfect house guest, slotting into your life easily and effortlessly. He was considerate, always offering to assist with any healings that he could; from triaging those who showed up at the door, to talking with them softly while you worked, easing their anxieties with a few kind words. And in those difficult sessions where there was nothing for him to do, he offered what he could - his presence, his reassurance.

It made you feel safe, knowing that he was on your side, no matter what you opened your door to. 

“Does this need a hanger, or am I supposed to fold this?” 

Taehyung holds the garment pinched between his fingers, eyes peering up to meet yours. It’s a black silky dress, mostly held together with string and a prayer, and you know for a fact it was something you hadn’t worn recently - let alone put in the wash. 

Heat creeps up your neck, and you fight the embarrassing urge to rip the fabric out of his hands and throw it out the window. The demon blinks at you with wide blue eyes, and you wonder not for the first time if he’s fucking with you. 

The other thing about Taehyung is that he’s impossible to read. His ability to go from the aloof affectionate demon who cuddles with your cat to the flirty winky man who drops innuendos in your kitchen leaves your head spinning. Worst of all - at least, to you - is that nothing has happened since that night at your place four weeks ago. Other than a few lingering glances that leave you questioning, Taehyung has made no more comments about his desires, which you try not to think about. Even if it’s driving you crazy. 

“That needs a hanger - though I have no idea how that ended up with the laundry, I haven’t worn it in ages.”

It was something you had purchased on a spontaneous whim, back when you had first become Fallen. It had made you feel sexy, powerful; and you had nowhere to wear it, so it had lived its life mostly stuffed in the back of your closet. 

“Oh, I put it there,” Taehyung says, nonchalantly, as if he’s discussing the weather. “I was going through your closet to see if there were some things you could donate to that shifter that you healed two nights ago and found it crumpled on the floor. It was too beautiful to leave in that condition.”

Fighting the urge to sigh, you instead fix him with a glare. 

“Oh? So you were aware it needed a hanger,” you grumble, though there’s no heat in your tone. “And what am I supposed to do with it now? It’s not very practical to wear for healing,” scoffing, you nod towards the dress. 

“I disagree,” Taehyung sniffs, placing the garment on the hanger before laying it down on the bed delicately, smoothing it over with a palm. “I think the sight of you in that dress could be healing in more ways than you could imagine.” 

Suddenly, the air in the room was stifling and you forget how words work, instead just blankly staring at the demon on your bed. He looks up at you, the slightest hint of a smirk pulling at his lips, and before you can formulate a response, a loud sound interrupts from the other room. 

“HEY! Lucky, you asshole, I’m trying to walk!” Jin yells, clearly fighting a battle with the cat in the foyer of the apartment. “Where is everyone, anyway?”

“In here!” you call out, moving to grab the dress off the bed and put it in the closet before the angel sees. You’re not sure why you feel the need to hide it from him, but the last thing you need is him doing something to embarrass you - especially after Taehyung managed to fluster you so thoroughly. 

Jin bumps the door open with his hip, his arms full of plastic bags, various groceries sticking out of each. “These are the groceries I owe you after eating all your last ones,” he announces, eyes scanning the scene he’s walked into. “I want it to be known for the record.”

“Hi, Jin!” your demon roommate greets, moving to stand. “Want me to put these away for you? I was just finishing up laundry.”

Jin’s gaze slides over to you, and you do your best to ignore the pointed question he was daggering into your skull, instead answering for him. “That would be great, Tae. Thank you.”

“Yes, thank you, Tae,” Jin echos, sliding the bags easily into the blonde’s arms. “We’ll  meet you out there in a second.” 

You’re about to mouth off about how Jin isn’t your father and he doesn’t get to order anyone around, least of all you- but Taehyung is already acquiescing, leaving the bedroom with the soft click of the door.

“So, he folds your laundry for you now, too? What’s next, he gets your dry cleaning? On Wednesdays, are you going to drink wine and do face masks?”

Tsking, you cross your arms. “Don’t be ridiculous, Jin. We both know I don’t have dry cleaning, and face masks are part of Smut and Skincare Sundays.”

This time, the angel doesn’t hide his annoyance in his glare.

“Come on, you know what I mean. I get why you haven’t kicked him out, but…” he sighs, plopping himself on the edge of your mattress. “What are you doing? What is he doing? What’s the end goal here?”

It’s what you’ve been asking yourself these last few weeks, and yet you’re no closer to coming to answer now than you were before. All you know is that you enjoy having him around, and something about the unreadable lanky demon being nearby gives you a sense of peace you haven’t felt since before becoming a Fallen. A feeling of comfort, of safety - and you’re terrified of losing it. 

“I don’t know, Jin. I just know that I don’t mind having him around,” you avoid his eyes, instead rounding the bed to finish putting away the clothes. “It’s nice having help with the healings, especially with the late night calls. You know I don’t like being alone here.”

You leave the other piece unsaid - that you don’t like being alone, at all. That Taehyung’s warm, infectious laughter and mischievous charm added light back into your once dark, monotonous days. That it felt like he belonged there - but that you have no idea how he feels, at all. 

The silence is heavy, as if Jin could read your mind, but if he does he doesn’t say anything, instead letting loose a breath. “Yeah, I know. I get it. I’m not trying to be a hard ass or anything, but I am trying to look out for you.” 

“I know.”

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt,”

“I know that, too.”

“At least promise me you’ll talk to him about what his plans are? If he intends on staying here indefinitely, or…” Jin pauses then, as if he doesn’t want to even go down the route. “Whatever. But promise me you’ll discuss it?”

He reaches out then, stopping you in your tracks until you meet his eyes. There’s no longer any annoyance there, just genuine concern, but for some reason that doesn’t make you feel any more at ease. 

“Yes, Dad,” you tease, shaking your hand free with a grin. “I promise I’ll talk to him. But it’s certainly not going to be in front of you, so it’ll have to wait for tonight.” 

“Fair enough,” Jin moves to stand, reaching for your door. “Just make it soon, okay?”

He closes the door behind him, and you hear his voice joining Taehyung’s in the kitchen, giving you a moment to collect your thoughts. Why are you so scared to talk to Taehyung? It has nothing to do with his status as a demon, something you barely noticed outside of his beauty; you could tell he was a genuine being, regardless of his beginnings. And he’s easy enough to talk to, has been nothing but a perfect gentleman of a roommate. 

It’s easy to tell yourself that it’s because it’ll be an awkward conversation, one that has the potential to make him feel awkward as well, something that you don’t want in the least. But if you’re honest - truly, deeply honest - it’s because you’re scared that he will leave, and you’re not sure that you want that at all, anymore. 

Actually, you know you don’t want that anymore.

The answer seems simple enough, then - have the discussion, ask him to stay. 

But why does the thought of asking him make you feel like you’re swallowing glass?

“You better come out here if you want to help pick dinner!” Jin yells, and shakes you from your thoughts. 

Joining them in the kitchen, you see they made quick work of putting away the groceries, leaving the counters clear with the exception of a few paper take-out menus. 

“Grocery shopping exhausts me,” Jin explains, nodding towards the array of menus. “It’s my treat, just let me know what sounds good and I’ll go pick it up. I promised Tae I’d stay for a movie.” 

After settling on a local Thai place, Jin calls in the order before heading out, demanding that you both are on movie selection duty in his absence. 

Plopping yourself onto the couch, Taehyung joins you, sitting side by side so close that your thighs are pressed together. Ignoring the building heat his proximity brings, you quickly grab the remote, scrolling through various streaming options trying to settle on something that you’d all like. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Taehyung interrupts, voice low.

“Of course.”

“Do you ever wonder what life would be like if things were different?”

Tearing your eyes from the TV, you focus on his ethereal face illuminated in the flickering light of the screen, on the intensity in his eyes. He looks distant; his gaze still bright, but more serious than usual, more lost. 

“What do you mean, Tae?”

He sighs, a mixture of resignation and something more. “I mean, what if I wasn’t a demon? What if I hadn’t been injured, or it had happened in another district with a different healer? What if you hadn’t Fallen? Would our paths still have crossed?”

His eyes are a bright cerulean blaze, more solemn than you’ve ever seen him before, and it has you frozen in place. It feels like he’s asking you something much bigger, much more vulnerable than he’s letting on, and it makes your throat tighten. 

Meeting his stare, you reach for him, taking one of his hands into your own. “I believe that some connections are meant to happen, regardless of the circumstances,” you reply, hoping he could hear the sincerity in your tone. “We could have made different decisions, but ultimately, our souls found each other and brought us together.” 

It’s then you realize just how close you are, how close his face is to your own, how his body is pressed up against every inch of your side. The intimacy of your words and your bodies has you feeling exposed, and yet you can’t seem to pull away. 

Taehyung’s gaze meets yours, his eyes shimmering with emotion. “You really think that? That some connections are destined?”

“Of course I do,” you nod, and his answering smile is almost blinding. Sliding his hand away from yours, he instead launches into a hug, pulling you to his chest. 

“Thank you for saying that. You really have a way with words, you know,” Taehyung murmurs, nuzzling his face into your neck. “You have no idea how much peace your presence brings me, Angel. It’s something that I thought I’d lost forever.” 

His words have your heart squeezing painfully in your chest, your tongue thick with the things you want to say. You’re even more affirmed in your decision to ask him to stay, pulling out of his embrace to do just that, when a loud knock at the door startles you both. 

“Hello? Is this where the Fallen healer lives?” a male voice calls out, one you don’t recognize. “Please, I just need some healing - are you home? Hello?”

Moving to open the door, you wait until you hear Taehyung follow in step behind you before answering. Leaving the chain lock in place, you open the door enough to peer into the hall. “Yes, how can I help?” 

A demon stands there – the tiny horns barely visible in his dark hair – black like his wrinkled suit. He was dressed like he either just left some sleazy bar or was on the way to one, though based on the stale whisky scent emanating from him, you’d guess both. 

He gives a low whistle, eyeing you up and down in a way that makes your skin crawl. “Damn, they didn’t mention how pretty you are, just that you were the closest healer. If I wasn’t so hungover, I might try to shoot my shot, but at the present, I-” 

“Nevermind, I’m not home,” you deadpan, moving to close the door, when the demon's foot stops it from shutting completely. 

“Please, wait! I’m sorry, you’re right, that was rude of me–” he starts frantically, clearly not wanting you to leave. “Listen, I’m just really, painfully hungover, and I have a big meeting I have to get to with some guys that I do not want to piss off and I was hoping you could help me out a bit. I just need a little healing, and then I’ll be out of your hair.” His hands wring together, and you notice how much his teeth are working his bottom lip, the tinges of his fear evident despite his bravado.

Glaring at him, you sigh heavily before peering over your shoulder to lock eyes with Taehyung. If all he needed was a little hangover cure, it should be simple enough of a healing without taking too much of your energy, and then he could be on his way. Easy enough. When your demon gives you a reassuring nod, you turn back to the stranger. 

“Fine, a quick healing, and then you leave me alone.” 

“Yes, of course! Thank you, seriously,” he continues, pausing as you unlatch the chain and open the door to let him inside. “I really appreciate it.” 

Standing in the entryway, it’s once he closes the door behind himself that the stranger finally notices Taehyung, eyes narrowing. “What’s another demon doing here?”

“He helps me,” you reply, giving the same simple answer you give anytime the question is asked by a creature looking for your services. At the end of the day, it’s none of their business who he is and why he is with you, and the less information given, the better. “We’ll do the healing down the hall.”

Moving to get your supplies, you go to show him to your workspace but he’s still paused, glaring at Taehyung. 

“What, he helps you, you help him, that kinda thing?” he sneers, speaking to you but still only looking at Tae. “Can’t say I blame him, you really are a looker. I bet you’re really fun to play with.”

Temper snapping at his words, you spin on your heel to point to the door. “That’s it, you’re done. Get out.” 

Before the demon can utter a reply, Taehyung is in his face, as if he was waiting for your unspoken signal to spring into action. Holding him in place with a fist in his suit jacket collar, he shakes the demon once, walking him backwards toward the door. “You heard her. Leave now, and do not return.” 

“Come on! Can’t you take a little joke?” the asshole shouts, any pretense of niceties fully falling away. “It’s just a quick healing, you sensitive bitch!” 

You can feel the change in the atmosphere when Taehyung tenses, his form seemingly trembling with restraint as his pupils blow out until his eyes are black. “You’re going to regret that,” he murmurs, a sinister smirk on his lips.

A bright light has you covering your eyes, slowly blinking until you can make out the form of Jin, his wings fully spread and an angelic dagger in tow.  The Thai food was still in bags in his other hand, Jin clearly returning from his trip only to walk into a different kind of battle.

Dropping the bags by the door, he saunters into the room.

“He’s right, you will regret that,” Jin says, voice even, “but you’re going to have to deal with me now, instead.” 

Plucking the demon out of Taehyung’s hold, Jin tugs him into a headlock, placing the blade at the bottom of his throat before turning toward the door. “Taehyung, why don’t you make sure our girl here is all taken care of while I take care of the trash, will you?” 

He waits for Taehyung’s nod, and then Jin looks at you. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” you affirm, stepping closer to Taehyung. 

“I’ll come check on you guys later.” He nods, and then he’s out the door, a bright light streaming through the cracks as it closes. 

And then, it’s just the two of you.

Taehyung immediately springs into action, arms sliding around your shoulders as he guides you to the couch, draping a blanket around you once you settle. Despite your assurances that you’re fine, he continues his task, moving next into the kitchen to put the take out in the oven to keep warm before putting the kettle on for tea. Finally, he searches through the newly stocked pantry for a sugary snack, something that will appeal to your sweet tooth. 

“What sounds better, sour gummy bears, or those nerd cluster things?”

“Sour gummy bears, please,”

Soon, the coffee table before you has a cup of hot honey lavender tea and a little bowl of sour gummies, and Taehyung is settling beside you, reaching for the remote to find something to put on TV. You feel cozy snuggled up on the couch, a blanket wrapped around you and your overly affectionate demon beside you, and it’s then that you realize just how comforted you really feel.

Effortlessly, without you realizing, Taehyung knew what to do to soothe you, knew the actions that would bring you peace after something stressful had happened. He didn’t need to be asked, or told – just sprang into action to support you, asking for nothing in return. There was only one other person who had done that for you, even before becoming Fallen, and that was Jin. 

The thought has your heart thrumming in your chest.

Pressing play on some vampire show, he then leans back on the couch, pulling you with him until you’re resting cuddled into his chest. “Is this okay?” he asks, eyes questioning. “If it’s too much, I can go get some pillows instead.”

It’s his thoughtfulness that finally breaks you, has tears welling in your eyes as you stare into his depthless gaze.  You can’t hold it back anymore, the question you were going to ask, and you blurt it out before you can doubt yourself. 

“Taehyung, will you live with me?”

 His eyes widen in surprise, and you feel your stomach drop, scrambling to explain. “I don’t know what your plans are, or how long you wanted to stay here… But I’ve come to realize that I really, really like having you around, and I don’t want you to go. So I wanted to ask, would you stay here with me?”

The surprise in his gaze fades, leaving behind wonderment, adoration. 

“You want me to stay?”

Not trusting your voice, this time, you just nod, giving him a watery smile.

Taehyung scoops you up, practically pulling you into his lap and  immediately wrapping you into a big hug, squeezing you so hard your lungs fight for air. “Yes! Yes, I’d love to stay with you.” 

A deep chuckle reverberates in his chest, and you can’t help but join in, his laughter and joy infectious as he crushes you. “No one has ever asked me to stay before.” 

You go to pull away, to move back to your spot on the couch and to continue this conversation, but Taehyung’s arms lock you in place, holding you to him. 

Brow furrowing,  you go to question him, but then his mouth is on yours.

The kiss is electric, sizzling down your spine and through your veins until you’re dizzy, until you’re consumed in nothing but the feeling of him and his mouth moving against yours. You’re drunk with it, on the precipice, and when his tongue licks at the seam of your lips, you let him tumble into your mouth, salvation be damned. 

“Well, what do we have going on here?”

Jin's voice startles you both, interrupting the kiss. Breathing heavy, you go to slide off Taehyung’s lap, but he is having none of it; instead tucking you in closer and giving the angel a proud grin. Rolling your eyes, you stay put, working to get your heart back to a normal rate. 

“I would say I’m surprised about the whole kissing thing, but I’m not,” he continues, moving fully into the living room to face you both. “However, could you tell me why in the hell you were both glowing?”

[themotherofblood]

Hey could you write for Tywin lannister and reader anything basically that relates to aayat song please 🥺♥️

omg that song is so fucking angsty, I hate myself for writing this but this might prepare my tears of gold babies for the forth coming future.

tw: angst! angst!

Masterlist

Tywin Lannister x Reader

You were a child at prayer, falling in love with man much older and yet a man who protected you like no other.

Much had happened in the past fortnight and yet here you sat on your dressing table, unable to move. Your sons well asleep, unaware of what had just taken place.

Just a fortnight ago you had skipped into your husband’s offices, bringing him the designs of the newest roads when you stopped dead in your tracks and then swiftly hid behind a wall. A woman stood at the head of his council to her waist, just at a glance anyone could tell she had been deprived of her small clothes, and by the black of her hair and the distinct pink of her gown, you knew it was Shae.

You couldn’t bare it, you simply couldn’t as you ran as fast as your feet would allow you to go, cradling your bump as heaved the contents of your stomach into your private garden.

Why…? Why now?

Now when you had nearly lost everything. You knew the whore falsely testified against Tyrion and here she was seducing your husband and he did nothing. You felt as though you would break, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“My lady,” Your handmaiden spoke up breaking you out of your trance “They are ready for you.”

There was nothing behind you eyes, you glanced at your sons once more before letting the handmaiden lead you out. Jamie stood by the chamber doors, awaiting to receive you. There were only two people he were a consistent visit for the past four days, you didn’t want to eat but you had to for the babe within you, you couldn’t sleep on the bed your husband shared with another.

The man you devoted your life to, ripped everything from your hands and then abandoned you too, taking the satisfaction of you leaving him away from you.

“Your hate for Tyrion is far greater than you’d ever love me!” You bellowed, “For petty revenge, you ruined us.”

Tywin sat at his desk unmoving, there was subtle tinge of guilt on his face “I have not taken an liberties.” He confessed.

“I am not a fool! I saw it, with my own eyes.” You screamed,

This time your husband raised for his chair, concerned over your state.

“Then why is she still here?” You pushed away from his arms

“She is to be sent away.” Tywin proclaimed, trying to coax you into your bed chambers

You kept your arms hugged around yourself as the procession began to form in the throne room. You couldn’t keep up the formalities, and perhaps for once Cersei took pity on you; she made the rounds of receiving condolences. The spoke of you like you weren’t there, they spoke of your sons like they were theirs. You couldn’t register most of it in your head.

You rushed out the room, slamming your back onto the first empty corridor you found, trying to take in loud gasps of deep breaths, you couldn’t breathe.

“Y/N, breathe; you must breathe.” It was Jamie’s voice yet it sounded muffled.

You hadn’t cried, not once since that night. You hadn’t given a thought to the fact that he was dead and put a strong fight as the silent sisters came to receive you to glance at his body. Jamie was your saviour as he shrugged them away, pulling the dagger out of your hands as the silent sisters departed your chamber.

You had been in deep slumber, from crying yourself to sleep and yet it happened to be so fleeting that the sound of breaking glass jolted you awake. You had been asleep in your own solar, refusing to share bed with your husband and he respected your wishes. There was something in your gut that told your to grab your bow.

So you did, knocking just one arrow as you padded your feet to your husband’s chambers hoping to shoot a whore in the heart. She was already dead in his bed when you arrived, nothing else moved other than the gold chain wrapped around her neck. It was yours.

You stealthily moved to your husband’s study where you found Tyrion, a crossbow in his hand, pointed at Tywin who seems to have just arrived from council.

“You saw her? Didn’t you?” Tyrion looked to you, “I loved her.”

Tywin eyes widened at your figure stood by the door, “Y/N go inside, please.” You grimaced at your husband and yet couldn’t take your eyes off the crossbow pointed at your husband.

“I would have hoped your hatred for me would have spared your sweet wife.” Tyrion scoffed, pulling the lever on the crossbow. You raised your own bow in haste, pointing it at Tyrion.

“He is an infidel, you want to defend him?” Tyrion breathed out

“He is my husband.” You body coursed in agony, in having to choose between which man to kill, “He is my husband and I love him.”

“Tyrion, that whore had played you all along.” Tywin reasoned

“Say that word again.” Tyrion threatened.

“Tyrion look at me, I won’t let him hurt you, please leave. No one will come after you.” You tried reasoning with him.

“You are a moron if you believe that.” Tyrion scoffed.

Tywin grew perturbed, taking his insults at you with great offence.

“You are a moron if you believed that whore ever loved you” Tywin spat back “You are my son! You should have known better.” Tyrion charged forward with cross bow.

“Tyrion I will kill you! Just put the bow down, leave.”

There was a moment of silence before the arrow released itself, lodging it straight under Tywin’s heart.

Tyrion waited, waited for you to shoot him and yet nothing “Go!” You screamed at him, throwing the bow down to hesitantly crouch down next to Tywin.

His green eyes held panic, choking in his blood. You could do nothing, you just held him sobbed. Sobbed for this broken marriage, and the child he would never get to meet. His hands pointed towards the pillow dropped on the chaise.

You knew what he was asking for, it would taken hours before he would succumb to his injuries. Out of love once more you obliged, crying out as you put the pillow over his face. His body barely held any fight as you suffocated him with your bare hands, killing your own husband in the process.

You’d sat with him for hours, stroking his hair until the cell guards realized Tyrion had fled and combed through the Red Keep, only to find your in your bloodied night gown, and the Hand of the King’s body rested on your lap.

The streets were dead quite as they realized this funeral was meant for Tywin Lannister, even worse that his wife had been left widowed, a woman loved by many in the small folk.

You’d sat in the carriage with Jamie, still unable to cry. There wasn’t a single sensation in your body other than the fact that your were breathing, you were breathing and he was gone.

The carriage door opened to the bottom of the stairs at the Sept of Baelor, not a single person moved as you came into view of the small folk and nobles alike. There was a dreaded silence as you walked up those steps, refusing to look at anyone, refusing to acknowledge anyone. Only once you were within the sort you could breathe again.

Finally you laid your eyes at your husband, dressed to nines as he departed this word. Stones painted by Cersei were placed upon his eyes, you walked up to the podium, looking down on his body. You touched his forehead, body cold to your touch and it was only then you broke down.

Lip quivering before you anguish gave way, you kneeled by his body. Sobbing, beggging for this to be false. The three glorious years of your marriage destroyed in the matter of three weeks. You couldn’t bare it and yet you knew there was nothing your could do about it.

“I shall return his body to Castley Rock myself.” You said in between sobs as Jamie consoled you.

[highoncatfood]

whats ur favourite black dresses album ?

WASTEISOLATION...... their debut album............

THOUGHTS AND PRAYERS was my introduction to black dresses and i immediately fell in lov with their sound thanks to it...

i looove this album man. the raw production and abrasive sound. some of the tracks like DOORWAY or IM EARTH r so ominous they instantly peak my interest to the fullest. SLITHER is one of the best ending songs on any album ive evr heard it givs me literal chills. WOUND is one of the heaviest black dresses songs to me, listening to it makes me feel such a specific pain in my chest. jst in general i rlly like how they handle the dark topics on this album, it rlly makes me feel it deep in my skinnn mannn. TELL ME HOW YOU FEEL is literally like my 2nd fav black dresses song of all time its so intense and harsh UGH its so good. literal goosebumps every time i listen to it. this album makes me feel so many things

i jst love how the instrumentals reflect the lyrics and vice versa, and how u cant look away from the words and wht they sing abt, its so inseparable. like u cant ignore it . this album grabs u by the shoulders and makes u LISTEN

anyway ummm yeah listen to black dresses n_n

[fleckcmscott]

Frills and Thrills

Summary: A typical night becomes anything but typical.

Words: 1,398

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: This piece was inspired by the below behind-the-scenes photo; the cinematography of One From the Heart (thanks, Lawrence Sher!); and this very 80s song. No, I am still not looking forward to the sequel - but I will take a hot Arthur Fleck anytime. 😎 Please enjoy! Special thanks to @sweet-nothings04 for her help and support! A very tardy Christmas piece is on the way!

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

"That'll be $43.67."

Arthur counted out the bills in his wallet. Before transferring his three prescriptions to Groves Pharmacy - a brisk nine-minute walk from his Burnley address - he'd called for the beige and blue tablets' prices. With his lack of Gothamcare, he'd hoped they'd be cheaper than at Helms. "Disappointed but not surprised" was that night's journal entry.

He'd try the new insomnia pills first, get a fourteen-day supply of the other two whenever he could. See if a good night's sleep in the bed he was almost used to would encourage positive thoughts, lighten black moods to grey. After all, they'd improved since Y/N. Still there, still a teeter on the edge of an abyss. But with a guide rope in the shape of a woman's hand.

Leaving $2.41 in his pocket, he surrendered exact change. Took the white paper bag with blue lettering. Offered a quiet thanks and sidestepped from the pharmacist's counter.

Y/N waited in the cosmetics section, purse on her shoulder, a passive expression on her face. He recognized the creams on the top shelf, a flicker from when he'd shopped for Penny. The silhouette logo, the black label, the rounded corners of the jar. Anti-wrinkle Oil of Olay, then, when money was too tight, the knock-off poured into her Oil of Olay jar. His subtle subterfuge had gone undetected. Wrinkles continued to form in the usual fashion. He'd continued to save a quarter and make the swap.

As Y/N picked up a pink compact, Arthur slinked behind her to speak in her ear. "You're already pretty."

Giggling, she hung the rouge in its spot between concealer and cream foundation. "You make me blush enough already. Did you get what you needed?"

A crooked half-smile. "I think so." He entwined their fingers and started towards the exit, an attempt to halt any further questions that might lead to med and money talk.

Aisle three's endcap had an Easter display, a thousand plastic wrappers crying out for attention. Jolly Jack chocolate bunnies and Cadbury mini-eggs, pastel baskets and cellophane grass. The plush baby chicks were awfully cute, perfect the kids at the children's clinic. He'd jot a reminder to come back after the holiday, grab some plastic eggs and props at half price.

"My parents used to dress us up and take us to our grandparents for a picnic and Easter egg hunt," Y/N said, crouching to browse a set of die cut decorations. "Do you want to do anything for Easter?"

In spite of his mother watching a televised mass and sharing a bag of jellybeans, the day hadn't ever been personal. The Fleck household was anathema to miracles. Even with the miracle he was currently living, he had no desire to celebrate a victory he didn't believe in. "No. Why?"

"You've got a heavy eye on the Peeps - my little sister likes to put them in cocoa. And I thought you were Catholic. Or at least raised Catholic, with all the prayer candles and icons in your apartment."

The answer came firmer than intended. "Those were Penny's."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have assumed. You wouldn't have hung a Madonna over the bed. I bet you weren't responsible for that ugly cat candle, either."

Snorting, he rolled his eyes, recalling all he times he'd dusted his mother's knickknacks. The sculpted candles were the worst. They'd developed a weird film sticker than nicotine stains, and grime stuck in every crevice. On bad days he'd been tempted to throw them out. On good days he'd care for them, because Penny loved them so. Inklings of whimsy in a life of indifference.

The never indifferent woman at his side rose to walk with him. Grove's automatic doors opened and they spilled onto the busy sidewalk.

Two blocks up, a light sprinkling began, lent the pavement a velveteen sheen. With each step that sprinkling grew heavier. From a drizzle to a patter to an outright shower. Puddles formed beneath their feet, threatening shoe seams with leaks. Arthur crumpled his paper bag, shoved it in his tan jacket's pocket, and jerked his hood over his head.

The toe of Y/N's kitten heel skidded past a pool as she hopped to the right. "The weather report didn't mention rain!" she cried, ambles escalating to a jog.

A fierce gust sent sheets of water sideways, whipped the hem of her pleated skirt to flash her thighs. Arthur looped his arm through hers, pulled her into an alley to take refuge under the canary, corner awning of Mott's Spirits. Cigarette smoke drifted from the crowd gathered along the storefront. Her wrinkled nose kept him from lighting up himself.

She gathered the collar of her wool coat. "Well, I'd like us to do something small, if that's all right. It's been years since I've celebrated anything, really. I want to put all that behind me again, like last Christmas. Easter Parade's playing at the Majestic this week. I haven't seen it but the summary sounded like you. A song-and-dance romantic classic."

How could he argue with the sweetness of her reasoning? That he was the reason she wanted to celebrate? He gave a little nod. "I think Tuesdays are half price."

Just then, a bell rang out, crisp and clear despite the downpour. A bicycle messenger sped their way, a dozen plastic bags hanging from the ten-speed's handles. Arthur darted in front of Y/N, sought to protect her from the incoming splash. She yanked him tighter, out of the menace's path.

But it was no use. Muddled water pelted the back of his trousers, liquid ice soaked through white socks. He jolted to his tiptoes, teeth clenched against the stinging cold.

Y/N bent to survey the damage. A groan left her, which quickly became a laugh. "What an asshole," she said, then laughed all the harder. The warmth of it loosened his stance, and he found he had no choice but to join in. She settled back against the shop's window, stuck out her lower lip to blow a damp lock of hair from her forehead. The lock remained in place. "If only I'd had my umbrella."

Neon light from a Gotham Lottery sign spilled across her face. "Winners aren't born. They're made!" was the lotto's slogan, and Arthur had finally found a winning ticket. Orange accentuated the tawny flecks of her irises, rounded the curves of her cheeks. A perfect frame even an imagination as vivid as his couldn't improve.

A drop trickled down his scalp, skimmed the side of his neck, sneaked beneath his collar. He'd caught Easter Parade on television years ago. Studied Astaire's steps, how he'd slipped a diamond ring on the leading lady's finger. What would Y/N look like, Arthur wondered, in a lace bonnet, its ribbons tied under her chin? A hat he could loosen while they kissed, hold as a shield against prying eyes?

A couple of swells like them would make a beautiful pair, better than any Vanderbilt or Wayne.

When his thumb traced her jaw, her full lips parted, as if about to ask for a dance. Dark brows raised, her pupils dilated, full of unquenchable life. The affection in them, the openness. The caring curiosity and eager readiness to accept all of him made him tremble. Her love felt like rain on his skin, and for once he understood why someone might sing in it.

He leaned closer, until her breath brushed his lips. "Kiss me."

Her arms wound about him in an instant, a sudden, welcome pressure on his ribs. He cupped her face. Guiding, following, bracing. Their mouths a messy collision of desire and devotion and dreams. Her frame vibrated against his, the pulse under his fingertips beating to the rhythm of his heart.

At last, a wave of giggles broke them apart. Arthur pushed himself to stretch beyond his shy nature towards the forward, confident instinct he was learning to polish. His eyes flitted between hers, a demure smile adorning his cheeks. "I'd like to make love, if you wouldn't mind."

The blush he caused so easily crept across her face anew. "Last one home is on top," she said, and pressed the tip of her nose to his. "Give me a head start."

With that, Y/N held her purse horizontally above her head and sprinted into the deluge.

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve​​​​​ @ithinkimaperson​​​​​ @sweet-nothings04​​​​​ @stephieraptorr​​​​ @rommies​​​​​ @fallenstarsabyss @gruffle1 @another-day-in-chuckletown​ @hhandley80​​​​​ @jokerownsmysoul​​​​​ @rafaelbottom @ralugraphics​​​​​ @iartsometimes​​​​​ @fleckficgirl

[abratgirlwholovemommies]

**September 8, 2024**

Today, Stephanie woke up feeling extra cheerful. After a week filled with intense studying, she decided to reward herself by going out for some fun. Dressed casually in a pastel purple t-shirt and comfy jeans, she slipped on her favorite sneakers, grabbed a small bag, and quickly headed out.

Her destination was Pop Mart, a store full of miniature models from famous series, ranging from tiny collectibles to oversized models. As Stephanie walked toward the store, her heart was filled with excitement. She felt like a kid about to get a toy she’d been waiting for. She played her favorite song on her phone and thought about her favorite superhero series, knowing today was going to be her lucky day.

The familiar *ding* of the doorbell greeted her as she pushed open the door to Pop Mart with one hand. The faint scent of new plastic mixed with the cool air conditioning, created an atmosphere she adored. Her eyes scanned the store, searching for her familiar spot—the DC Comics section, the place she had been thinking about all day.

"Where is it...?" she thought to herself as she confidently made her way toward the neatly arranged shelves. After a few minutes of browsing, she found it! Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she picked up three blind boxes from the DC Comics series. The brightly colored blue packaging featured only a tiny image of Superman in mini form, leaving her to wonder which hero could be hidden inside.

“Please be Supergirl… Black Canary… or Green Arrow. I’ve got enough Batmans to fill a shelf!” Stephanie thought with a playful sigh. 

After finding what she had come for, she walked to the cashier. The lights in the store reflected off the packaging she held, intensifying her excitement. The cashier smiled, making small talk about her chosen items, and Stephanie returned the smile as she completed the purchase.

Leaving the store, the bag swinging in her hand, the thrill remained as she headed back to her apartment. The evening air was beginning to cool, but a warm feeling bubbled up inside her. She couldn’t wait to open the boxes and see if her superhero collection would grow with something new today.

__________________________________

When she arrived back at her apartment, she quickly sat on the floor, excitement filling the air. The unopened boxes were laid out in front of her. She grabbed the first one and began to open it. Slowly, she pulled a small card from the box, squinting at it with anticipation. Her smile instantly faded.

...Batman.

Stephanie stared down at the tiny Batman figure in her hand, visibly deflated. 

“Batman again? Does he love me or something?!” she muttered, a mix of frustration and amusement filling her. It was both annoying and, in some strange way, hilarious. Luckily, her roommate Babs wasn’t back yet; otherwise, she would’ve been teased for the rest of the night(She already did). 

She set the new Batman next to the others she had collected from previous boxes. 

"You're filling up my shelf, Mr. Bat!" she complained to the miniature Batman before reaching for the other two unopened boxes.

The small thrill of excitement began to return as she carefully picked up the second box. Her heart beat faster as she tore off the plastic wrapping. 

"Alright… Supergirl …Black Canary… Green Arrow!" she chanted in her head, hands trembling slightly with fresh hope. 

“Please, please, please let me get what I want!” she whispered dramatically, clasping her hands together in mock prayer before opening the box.

As soon as she peeked inside, a deep sigh of annoyance escaped her lips. A flash of green hair greeted her, leaving no doubt who it was.

The Joker. Batman’s eternal nemesis.

“Oh, come on… Batman really can’t live without him, huh?” Stephanie groaned, staring at the Joker figure. She set him down beside Batman, now feeling more defeated than ever.

“Am I doomed?” she thought bitterly, eyeing the growing pile of plastic wrappers and empty boxes around her.

Her excitement had dimmed significantly, but one last box remained on the floor. 

But life, as someone once said, must go on. 

With a mixture of resignation and acceptance, Stephanie picked up the final box. This time, she opened it in a rush, very different from the previous two. She had already given up on expecting anything special. "Another Batman wouldn’t even surprise me at this point," she thought with a shrug as she ripped off the plastic.

But the moment she opened the box, something strange happened. Stephanie paused, her curiosity piqued. She slowly pulled the figure out…

A small character card fluttered to the floor before coming to rest. She glanced at it with little hope. A black costume with bat-like ears reflected the light, and a familiar bitter smile tugged at her lips. 

“It’s probably just another Batman…” she thought as she picked it up from the floor.

But when her eyes focused on the details of the card, confusion flashed across her face. 

"Huh?" Stephanie raised an eyebrow, reading the card: *Batgirl, Cassandra Cain*.

Her heart began to race. This wasn’t a character listed on the box. She hadn’t expected to find a mini Cassandra Cain figure here.

“…Could this be the rare one?” The thought hit her suddenly, and Stephanie felt a surge of excitement she hadn’t expected. She examined the figure in her hand closely, her eyes sparkling just like when she first entered Pop Mart earlier that day.

“Wait…” she whispered to herself, a huge smile spreading across her face. 

“No way… this must be a secret one!” she said aloud, holding the tiny Batgirl figure up to admire the intricate details.

And then something strange happened. The figure moved. Stephanie blinked, thinking she was imagining it. But no—it was real. The Batgirl figure performed a somersault in the air, her tiny cape fluttering behind her, and landed in a perfect combat stance.

Stephanie's mouth fell open. “Woah..Um…well. I think this is way beyond what I expected.” _________________

After I finished this mini Cass I felt like I must write this lol.

[haveyoulistenedtothisalbum-poll]

Tracklist:

DOORWAY • GO INSIDE • ETERNAL NAUSEA • IN MY MOUTH • TELL ME HOW U FEEL • THOUGHTS AND PRAYERS • IM EARTH • WIGGLE • DREAMING • LEGACY • RUNNER • WOUND • SLITHER

Spotify ♪ Bandcamp ♪ YouTube