#which probably looks better than whatever i was doing before anyway

[unproduciblesmackdown]

that moment when: everyone's lives are restricted and constricted and these imposed consequences are attributed to anyone's continual individual failures to seek, find, and follow the Correct Path through Life, and so everyone is left on their own to only be seeking & finding these failures as well as the only answer to how their lives can be better....versus Not seeing the world as the free marketplace meritocracy of everyone's personal failures/successes, nor everything in your own life, and thus not forever having to scrutinize Where You Must Be Bringing It Upon Yourself by fucking up or at least failing to do the correct thing, and exist only in perpetual punishment for your ongoing failure and occasional temporary reprieves from it. recognizing everything that wasn't & isn't & wouldn't be [this is because you're bringing it upon yourself] and thus having more capacity & capability to look at the realm of your personal individual self, reality, experiences, life through the perpetual instances of seeking, finding, and following your own needs/wants through one's inherent personhood and exercises of autonomy and recognition of where & when & how one recognizes moments of their existing freely & in more resonant genuine alignment with themself, you know? endless examples to be found in endless fractals of [where & how are people's lives made smaller]. and that of course this doesn't preclude the ability/option at any time to question one's choices, since you'll be able to find more Actual choices available to you (and, also crucially, find more actual choices made by others that are in the pursuit of limiting Yours) to look at, and people getting to exercise their autonomy isn't the same as "everyone doing anything they want regardless of how it affects others" since that [how does it affect others?] element instead being Regarded would be able to lead to recognizing that, in fact, an effect might be the infringement on others' autonomy, hence: There's A Problem....like the ability to just go ham with [questioning???] anything in existence, certainly including oneself, b/c the "norm" is such that rather you're only supposed to be able to question yourself for your failings (or those positioned as less than, thus, beneath you) and not even have the language to express a questioning of aspects of life beyond that b/c stop calling anyone "cis" they're just Normal, Just Be Normal and it would all be fine

[stellardeer]

Yall ever think about how much is passed down between children that adults may be completely oblivious to.

Which goes for positive and negative things.

Like games that an older child taught to a younger one, who then taught it to another child below them the next year. There's plenty of stuff I remember doing that no adult ever taught me.

But that also goes for the bad parts of being young like bullying.

It's why it would be so hard to stop the cycle of bullying altogether. A 5th grader treats the 4th graders like they're all babies and they need to stop doing certain things and act a certain way, and the 4th graders don't like it but they internalize it so they end up doing the same thing to class below them a year later. Or high school seniors treating freshman like absolute dogshit just for being freshman, and they hate it so much but by the time they become seniors they think they've earned the right to do the same thing to the younger kids. So it repeats indefinitely.

And it's not even necessarily something that adults can intervene in if they don't know it's happening. They can give all the bullying PSAs they want and maybe they'll catch one individual act and punish it, but you would have to convince multiple generations of students to drop this behavior in order for it to truly disappear.

[toastsnaffler]

woke up feeling ruffff but took my meds and went back to bed for a while n I feel a bit better

[violetclarity]

started last night online shopping for new bras/bralettes because mine have gotten gross af, ended it looking at crochet bralette patterns so I could make a rainbow top for pride. I solved a different problem??

[aliceramblez]

Dating the Hazbin Hotel Residents 😈

Tags: GN!Reader, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Mature Topics (ie. Suicidal Thoughts, Alcohol Abuse, SA, etc), Spoilers For The Show, etc.

A/N: Ahhh yes, more brainriot for the pile 😌 I was more of a Helluva gal before the show aired, but now I gotta say these blorbos are a dear part of my heart! Hopefully y'all enjoy these as much as I did writing them!

Consider following my main blog @taruchinator for more solid content & feel free to leave a request here for future HCs~

Charlie 🌈

When the Happy Hotel first opened its doors and all of Hell started making a mockery of it, you were probably the only one who took it as a sign to try and improve from the low life that you were. It's not like you had anything else to live for, anyway.

As soon as you enter the building, you're immediately greeted by the bubbly Princess of Hell herself (along with a reluctant Angel Dust) who is more than happy to show you around and welcomes you with open arms.

You've never been shown this much kindness and sympathy for your situation before, so it naturally takes you aback and makes you wonder what the catch is. Turns out there's none and the Princess is probably the only sweet soul to live in this shithole.

As you grow closer, she asks you to drop the title and just call her Charlie. She also shares a bit about her situation and how her mother wanted to save sinners from the extermination each year, and now Charlie felt like it was her duty to continue this legacy until her dreams came true.

You can't help but feel touched over how much she cares, so you silently vow to yourself to help her in any way you can, just like she's done for you.

It doesn't take long before the two of you grow even closer and feelings begin to blossom, but you decide to ignore them since why would a Princess ever like someone like you?

But Charlie proves you wrong yet again, since one day she comes to you a blushing mess and confesses her own feelings, asking if you'd like to go out with her. You can't help but vocalize your shock since she could do so much better than a random sinner. She deserved better, too.

She looks at you with fondness in her eyes. “You've been by my side for so long and supported me every step of the way. Who wouldn't fall for someone like that?”

And thus, you are the luckiest person in Hell because you scored Charlotte Morningstar, and whoever says otherwise can get a knife to their throat.

She's the perfect definition of a sweet and patient girlfriend, never pushing you to do anything you aren't comfortable with (since you really aren't used to such adoration in a romantic relationship), but as soon as you give her the get-go, she'll be sure to shower you with as much affection as she can until the doubts in your mind disappear completely.

You aren't that far behind either. Albeit not as good as her, you do your best to be a comforting partner whenever she needs you. This is especially necessary after an extermination happens, which always leaves Charlie devastated and in need of a hug or words of encouragement because she doubts herself sometimes and wonders if the hotel is even working at all.

You remind her how it brought the two of you together, to which she smiles and agrees that at least something good has come out of it so far.

Vaggie 🎀

Both you and Vaggie used to work in the same legion under Adam with the rest of his exorcists. You knew of each other's existence, but didn't really talk much aside from whatever was needed in the midst of battle.

The day she spares a demon child's life, you're doing your rounds nearby and witness the whole exchange, including Lute coming over and ripping both an eye and Vaggie's wings for showing mercy. You don't know why, but it makes your blood boil.

“HEY! What are you doing?! It was just a kid, why not let it slide?”

And just like that, you become a target of Lute's rage as well, being ripped from your angelic status along with receiving a few nasty cuts, yet surprisingly not as bad as Vaggie herself.

Once the two of you are left to die, you immediately try to tend the girl's wounds with whatever you can. Vaggie can only stare in disbelief at what you'd done and questions why you even did so in the first place—now you were stuck just like she was.

“Guess I just don't like seeing injustice... Who knew Heaven could be so fuckin' shitty?”

You both laugh at the irony of it all, and that's when luck is finally on your side as Charlie finds you in the dirty alley and brings you back to the hotel to heal properly.

For the next three years you two stay at the Hazbin Hotel, helping Charlie in any way you can to try and make her dream a reality since deep down you hope that despite Heaven's corrupt system, there can be a small chance that souls can be redeemed. You hide the fact that you're ex-Anges though, since you don't wanna cause unnecessary drama.

During this time period, the two of you become better friends, having your own inside jokes regarding things you didn't particularly enjoy from your time as Angels, as well as learning more about one another.

You're the one to come to terms with your feelings first and decide to lay them on the table for Vaggie to see—she's always been a straight-to-the-point kind of gal, so if you're about to be rejected, might as well have it be done quick. But of course, she replies with her own declaration and desire to give a relationship a shot, which you're ecstatic about!

It's a bit hard at first since you never got to see much of romantic relationships in Heaven while training for murder every year, but you try and make it work. Both you and Vaggie work endlessly to try and make the other happy, and it only makes you fall for each other even more.

Also Charlie is your go-to wingwoman who will be there to give you the best advice to try and woo your girlfriend. She ships you two so hard.

Angel Dust 🕸

Working at a porn studio under an Overlord who owns your soul can be exhausting. You know this better than anyone since everyone who works under Valentino has contracts that won't let you get far with a leash. This is especially true with your friend Angel Dust.

You know about the things Valentino does to the spider demon—hell, everyone in the studio probably knows, but know better than to say anything about it. You're always there for Angel after particularly rough shoots, doing your best to comfort him in any way you can, though there isn't much you can do given you're in the same spot.

When he tells you he's moving to Princess Charlie's Hazbin Hotel, you're so happy for him! At least that will give him some distance from Valentino and his disgustingly filthy hands when he's not working.

This unsurprisingly doesn't bode well with the Overlord, causing him to throw fits of rage around the studio when Angel leaves for the day. You can't help but make a snarky comment that you definitely regret moments later.

“Can one blame him for wanting space from such an overbearing asshole?”

Without his favorite stress toy around, you end up paying the price for such comments. The kind of pain and suffering he puts you through is completely different from what you're used to. Is this the stuff he does to Angel? He leaves you naked, bruised and bloody in your room, and all you can do is muster what little strenght you have left to head for the Hazbin Hotel.

As soon as the door opens, you immediately tumble forward and start losing consciousness. The last thing you remember is Angel's horrified expression before it all fades to black.

Once you wake up and have been patched up, you explain what happened at the studio, and you could've sworn you saw fire in Angel's eyes as he holds on to you, fearing you might disappear at any moment. He begs you to stay in the hotel with him, and you agree without hesitation.

And so, your new routine of heading to work and then coming back to the hotel becomes blissful, not having to deal with that lunatic mothman more than necessary. You also get to spend time off with your best friend, which is always a plus.

Well, ‘best friend’ might not be the best way to describe it. You'd developed a crush on the spider demon even before this whole incident occurred, and now that you were spending more time with him, it only continued to grow.

With the line of work you two had, romantic relationships didn't seem to be a thing that crossed anybody's mind since why have a permanent partner when you could just go around fucking the hottest people in Hell? But you knew your feelings were far beyond from sexual, but didn't wanna ruin what you already had going for you.

One heartfelt drunken conversation after work however, makes you do a double take—Angel likes you back. And that both scares and excites you. But with both of you going over the pros and cons with each other, you decide to give it a chance.

You make sure to always have Angel's consent when it comes to physical intimacy—anything from holding his hand, to kissing to just cuddling. He jokes about not being a porcelain doll, but deep down you know he appreciates it.

You're also there for the rough nights, when he comes home wanting nothing more than to die again and let the earth swallow him whole. Words of reassurance are spoken and you can only hold him and let him cry as you vow to do anything in your power to stop this from happening again.

Husker 🍺

As one of the first guests of the hotel, like any wayward sinner, you find yourself in the bar more often than you'd like. Alcohol killed you in the first place, yet not even in the afterlife could you seem to pull yourself from its grasp.

It's a somewhat welcome surprise to find out that the bartender is going through a similar struggle. He still serves you drinks and lends and ear whenever he's not busy, but will occasionally drop the words of wisdom to watch your fill.

Eventually you two find yourselves doing this little back and forth and aid each other when you're in your dark places—Husk won't let you near the bottle if he sees you're about to knock yourself out, meanwhile you're there to look after him when he has one too many drinks and can't take care of himself.

Not to say he isn't a good drinking buddy—you've found out most of the gossip around the hotel thanks to this sneaky little cat demon and there's never a dull moment with him around.

You learn about his deal with Alastor during a particularly bad night, when Husk's had one too many and isn't thinking straight. You don't bring it up, but now have an eye open for whenever the Radio Demon drags your friend away.

Angel's the one who brings up your questionable relationship to the surface.

“So... you two like, fuckin' each other, or what?”

Your entire face goes red, and if it weren't for the dark fur you could swear you see Husk looking the same. He's quick to get rid of Angel's nosy ass, but now the seed has been planted in your brain—do you like Husk that way?

After careful consideration, you come to the conclusion that yes, you do. And it's honestly kinda terrifying considering how relationships don't usually work out in Hell, at least from what you've seen. Besides, even if you did try and confess, there was always the possibility of him not feeling the same and just being embarrassed by Angel's comment.

So in an attempt to make your feelings disappear, you stop frequenting the bar. Who knew the best way to stop drinking habits was trying to avoid spending time with your unrequited crush?

But of course, Husk isn't stupid. He sees the change in your behavior and let's it slide for a while, until he eventually corners you and asks what's wrong. You decide to get it all out of the way and tell him how you feel.

To the embarrassment of both of you, he holds your hand firmly between his and darts his eyes toward the corner of the room. “Next time you should ask before going off assuming things, ya got it?”

And so, your glass may have been empty that day, but your heart had never felt fuller.

Sir Pentious 🐍

You meet Sir Pentious when you sign into the hotel, and your immediate thought is just how can this snake man be so adorkable, it should be illegal.

As you greet the other residents and staff, you're quick to strike a conversation with him, which based on his body language he was not expecting. He starts telling you a bit about his weaponry and other contraptions, and you can't help but be fascinated by it.

You're a bit of a tinkerer yourself, albeit you've only dabbled in small scale projects—nothing compared to the massive canons and aircrafts that Pentious seems to be familiar with.

He acts like a kid opening gifts on Sinmas when he talks to you about his inventions, clearly never having anyone show interest before. Eventually he'll even ask for your input on certain smaller projects he wants to work on to help around the hotel, all to thank Charlie for being so kind to him and giving him a second chance. You're obviously eager to help!

You two start spending so much time together that the egg boys have started calling you ‘Boss #2’, much to Pentious' embarrassment and your amusement.

One afternoon once exercises are done for the day, the snake demon seems much more fidgety than usual as he invites you over to his room to continue working on his security system prototype. He's a blabbering mess once he has you sitting down and your heart just can't help but swell at each little syllable.

“Dearest (y/n)... you've, um, well... you are a huge inspiration for my work! A-And I wouldn't have been able to create any of this... without your help. You are kind, and smart and very talented.... and w-well, um I-”

You gotta silence the man with a kiss otherwise you two would be here all day. He's puddy in your hands and you can only giggle in return. “I really like you too, Pen.”

Everyone is either saying they called it or groaning in annoyance because fucking FINALLY, you two were just dancing around each other like idiots. The egg boys are just so happy to have someone else besides Pentious to be in their lives, and will do their best to look out for you just like with their own boss.

So yeah, prepare yourself for some sickeningly sweet gestures from this guy cause he will go above and beyond to get you what you need/want even if it kills him (again). And you can confidently say that you'd do the same in return.

Alastor 📻

After running in the same circles when you were alive, it's no surprise to you to end up in Hell, although you never would've suspected that you'd find yourself in the same place as him. It was honestly a huge relief not having to go through this all by yourself.

As Alastor exerted his dominance over Hell as the Radio Demon, you were powerful enough to be an Overlord yes, but rather liked keeping it on the down low instead of making a spectacle of yourself (Alastor was the one for theatrics anyway). Because of this, only select few knew of your true power and what you were capable of.

Instead, if there was one thing you were known for, it was being the only soul allowed to be close to the Radio Demon without the risk of death.

Yes, Alastor was a sadistic, cold-blooded and egotistical mastermind, but he wasn't a monster. You knew that better than anyone. Although the reactions he had to other demons treating you like a joke or calling you the ‘Radio Demon's Pet’ were not helping his case.

“ł₣ ɎØɄ V₳ⱠɄɆ ɎØɄⱤ ₴ØɄⱠ, ɎØɄ ₩łⱠⱠ ₩₳Ⱡ₭ ₳₩₳Ɏ Ɽł₲Ⱨ₮ ₦Ø₩ ฿Ɇ₣ØⱤɆ ł Ɽł₱ ł₮ ₳₱₳Ɽ₮ ฿ł₮ ฿Ɏ ฿ł₮...”

“Al, chill. You're gonna make them shit their pants.”

After his seven year absence, you immediately noticed something was wrong with him, and wouldn't stop pestering until he told you the truth—A deal he made and how his soul was now bound to someone much more powerful than he was.

You were obviously mortified and started looking into ways to try and find a loophole to this, but alas the Radio Demon would just give you his signature grin and tell you not to worry about it. It was his battle to face.

But of course you're quick to remind him that you've stuck together through thick and thin even in life, so there was no way you were letting him handle this by himself. You work as a team—always have and always will. You engulf him in a hug.

“We're gonna figure this out, Al. I promise...”

The grin remains, but his eyes widen slightly in surprise. He hesitantly returns the embrace, patting your back and wiping the tears you didn't even know you were shedding.

“There there~ To think such a sweet and innocent soul wound up in a gutter like this. I cannot say I complain as long as I have your delightful company beside me.”

And so when he says he has a plan that involves Princess Charlie Morningstar and her new Happy Hotel, you follow along. Whatever fate has in store for you two, you'll be ready.

Also Charlie is a sweetheart who could do no harm. Knowing Alastor, he'll probably do whatever he can here and there to help around for the cause. You also offer your services as an undercover Overlord, much to everyone's surprise when you reveal your status.

The Radio Demon may have a plan, but something tells you it won't involve bloody murder (unless extremely necessary or if someone really pissed him off).

Like you said—he's not a monster.

Lucifer 🍎

You and Lucifer were good friends at the beginning of Creation. While you were stuck with the tedious task of designing blueprints for the new ‘Human Project’ that headquarters had in store, Lucifer's Seraphim status allowed him to bring creations to life with the flick of a wrist, much to your delight and wonder.

His ideas and pitches for Earth were always so entertaining to listen to, and you would do your best to encourage him to show them to the higher ups to get them approved—His mind was just filled with joy and love and wonder that you'd never seen before.

Which was why it was always so disappointing whenever he'd come back and say that he was shut down and even mocked at. How could Heaven shut down such an imaginative mind in the creation of their biggest project yet?

To say you were devastated when you heard about his fall would be an understatement. You mourned the loss of your friend, knowing that he'd done nothing wrong and thinking it wasn't fair to him to receive such punishment just because he cared for the future of humanity.

Thousands of years later, you overhear the plan for Extermination of Hell kind. You didn't mean to walk by, yet here you were, under the direct eye of the Head Seraphims about to be downcast for something you had no control over—just like Lucifer.

“You're all self-entitled pricks! You think you can do whatever you want just because it doesn't follow what you define as good!”

You get a few good arguments before being cast downwards, leaving you in bad shape in a random alley with no wings and no means of escape. That is of course, until destiny seems to be on your side and Lucifer finds you, completely perplexed to see you here at all.

After getting treated, you tell him about the Extermination so he and Hell can prepare. The conversation of you getting cast down by Heaven gets glossed over, but he can feel the fury building up inside him. You were always doing things by the book—how could they do this to you?

Once the slaughter is over, Lucifer gets a meeting with Heaven and secures protection for both his daughter Charlie and you, to which they begrudgingly agree to keep him outta their hair. You can't help but feel touched by this gesture.

He's also quick to offer you a room to stay in, but you compromise by living in a seperate building from him and Charlie so you aren't a bother even though he says you aren't. In fact, ever since Lilith left, he's had to take care of his young daughter all by himself, so he's more than happy when you offer to help.

It doesn't take long for your feelings to start coming into the surface from all those years ago, and you gotta push them away because he's both married and has a child to look after! Besides, why would the King of Hell ever look in your direction?

Eventually though, he brings up the question with nothing but sweaty palms and a customized rubber ducky that says ‘I love you’ whenever you squeeze it. You blush furiously, but can't help but bring up your concerns, not wanting to replace Lilith in his heart. He looks into your eyes and says that he hasn't been as happy as he is now in the past thousand years.

Cue baby Charlie walking in on everything, and she just smiles and goes innocently. “Daddy! Is (y/n) staying home with us now?”

You two can only chuckle at the cuteness of it and you immediately go to hug her. You couldn't believe that you were blessed with such a wonderful family.

[mypoisonedvine]

𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻 𝗲𝗹𝗲𝘃𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿 | eddie munson x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | based on a request from the lovely @ultraintrovertedgryffindor ; getting stuck in an elevator with his best friend (and secret crush) was absolutely not on eddie's morning agenda, but it leads to one of his most wild fantasies coming to life.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | 3.8k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | SMUT (18+ only!! semi-public sex, oral m receiving, kinda pervy eddie but also slightly pervy reader with a balls fixation gee I wonder where that idea came from), best friends to lovers (but very very limited plot haha), pretty much exactly what it says on the tin y'all not sure what to say

Eddie laughed as he pressed his hands to the elevator doors, but it wasn't a laugh of amusement— it was exasperation, frustration, an is this really happening? laugh.

"Soonest we can get a crew out there is uhh... noon?" the voice on the emergency phone informed you.

"Noon?!" you yelped. "It's not even half past eight!"

"What did I tell ya?" Eddie recalled, hanging his head in defeat for a second. "Nothing good happens before ten."

"Just try to stay calm and we'll be there when we can," the operator suggested, like it was so simple.

You didn't even reply to that, just scoffed and hung up.

It wasn't like he'd been looking forward to his GED exam, in fact he'd almost been hoping for a way to put it off or get out of it... but this was definitely not what he was imagining. Of all the elevators to get stuck in, this generic government building where he was supposed to have his big test proctored was probably the most boring option.

He glanced over at you, and stopped himself from making a dirty joke: you heard that Aerosmith single, right? Love In An Elevator?

That probably wouldn't have gone over well. He used to say stuff like that when you were both a little younger, but he'd since given up hope of it ever actually... inspiring anything.  You two were probably better off as friends anyways; or, that’s what he told himself to make it sting a little less.

“Looks like we’ll be stuck in here for a while…” he mumbled instead.  “Did they say what the issue is?”

“Some kind of power failure?” you recalled with a shrug.  “It’s gonna take a while to fix, that’s the important thing.  Do you think they’ll call the fire department?”

“Who knows,” Eddie sighed, leaning against the wall as you sank onto the floor and dropped your head back against the wall.  “I guess we should just try to get comfortable.”

Which was easier said than done, but at least he was stuck here with you— you were generally pretty fun to talk to.  Of course, you weren’t exactly in your best mood due to the circumstances…

At 8:32, Eddie checked his watch.  “I’m officially late for my exam,” he noticed.

At 9, you checked your own; “And I’m officially late for work.  We'll see if I even still have a job when we get out of here," you groaned. "I was on pretty thin ice already."

By 9:14, the stuffiness of the elevator was becoming harder to ignore.  Eddie slipped off his jacket and vest in response to the heat, but resisted the urge to take off his Ozzy shirt. You'd seen him shirtless before, of course, but he figured out would be weirder without the right context.

"Fuck, it's hot in here," you whined quietly.

"I guess the power issue affects the A/C, huh," Eddie noticed.

"You think?" you scoffed, reaching up to unbutton the top of your shirt.

For some reason, he kinda liked when you were condescending like that; of course he loved it when you were sweet like usual, but when you got frustrated and sarcastic and looked at him like he was crazy... for whatever reason, it worked for him. And it was definitely working like never before when combined with your hasty efforts to open your shirt.

He expected you to stop after a couple buttons, but you just kept going, exposing more and more of your chest glistening with sweat. His eyes were glued to it, until you got low enough for him to see a glimpse of your bra, and he coughed as he turned his head quickly.

"Woah, hey, uh--" he stammered out awkwardly.

"Oh whatever, you've seen me in a bikini, it's the same thing," you rolled your eyes.

But it's not the same thing, because you were stripping, untucking the button-up from your tight skirt, fanning your flushed skin...

And he was tugging the crotch of his jeans down a bit when you weren't looking, trying to keep his oncoming boner from being too obvious. 

Leaving your shirt open, you sighed and sat down on the floor, splaying your legs out on the ground.  He could see how uncomfortable you were, and it made him press his lips together while he sighed through his nose.  Though he was a little afraid you weren’t in the mood for any friendly behavior as your frustration and stir-craziness increased, he walked across the elevator and sat down next to you.  “I was probably gonna flunk the test,” he decided.

“What?  No you weren’t,” you scoffed.  “You studied so hard!  I’m really proud of you, you know.”

“Just ‘cause we’re stuck in here doesn’t mean you should get all sappy with me—” he started.

“No— ‘cause we’re stuck in here I’m not gonna put up with you trying to be down on yourself,” you decided sternly with a little glare at him.  “You were gonna fucking ace it, I know you were.  You worked your ass off.  I know you wanted to act like you didn’t care, but you actually got your shit together and did it.”

“You… you helped me a lot,” he mumbled sheepishly.

“Please, I hardly did anything— mostly just kept you from getting too distracted,” you denied, blissfully unaware that he actually found you more distracting sometimes, but never minded it.  “Can you stop being a pussy and just admit you’re actually smart, and dedicated, and more than capable of nailing this?”

He blinked quickly and looked down into his lap, feeling his face warm up— not just from the heat.  How could you be so mean and nice at the same time?  

“And now it’s gonna go to waste, ‘cause of this godforsaken elevator,” you sighed, dropping your head back; a pessimistic end to a pep talk, but he couldn’t blame you.

"Think of it this way: it couldn't get any worse!" Eddie offered with a faux-upbeat tone.

Right then, the lights in the elevator flickered and turned off, plunging you both into darkness. "I fucking hate you," you announced after a short silence.

He heard a whirring sound from somewhere else in the shaft, and a dimmer orange lighting came on inside the elevator; some kind of emergency back-up generator thing, probably. It was enough to see decently well, especially as his eyes started to adjust, but still made it feel like you were both in an even more perilous situation.

“I didn’t sleep enough last night,” you admitted, “I might try to catch up on that.  Maybe if I can sleep this will go by faster…”

“I like that plan,” he decided, even though he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to do the same.  Eddie had a hard time keeping still and quiet, but he managed to do it so you could get your rest.

He suspected you had fallen asleep when your breathing seemed to slow down a bit— but he knew you had when you limply slumped to the side, your head gently landing on his shoulder.  This happened every once in a while, a sign of how comfortable you were with him. He supposed he should be thankful for it, but sometimes it just made him furious. Because what cruel punishment was this, to have you lay on him like this when he can't put his arm around you and kiss your head and tell you how perfect you are?

The half-boner he’d wound up with earlier when you unbuttoned your shirt had never really gone away, and it noticed your proximity with renewed interest.  Maybe it was just because he was so bored with literally nothing to do but think about you, but his mind kept coming up with all these fucked up ideas based on the eyeful he’d gotten.  

What if you’d taken off your bra as well and let him see the tits he’d been fantasizing about for longer than he cared to admit?  What if this had happened in winter instead and the elevator was brutally cold and you two had to hold your naked bodies together for warmth?  What if that guy on the phone said this thing was airtight and two only had an hour to live and you decided you wanted to go out with a bang, literally?  

He wondered if he’d be brave enough to tell you how he felt about you, if either or both of you only had an hour left.  For better or for worse, this elevator shaft had airflow, so you were more likely to die of boredom than anything.

He shifted slightly, stuck in a somewhat awkward position, but it didn't help much— though thankfully it didn't wake you up, either.  He just wished he could get some relief, somehow.

Obviously, he knew it was a bad idea. But the thing about his dick is it usually talked him into some pretty bad ideas…

He tested the waters with a whisper of your name, but you just kept breathing slowly— you were out cold. Maybe you were even more nervous for him than you'd let on, if you were that underslept.

Reaching up with his free hand, all he had to do was grip himself through his jeans to get some relief; he sighed through his nose, shutting his eyes.

His cock flexed impatiently as he unzipped the jeans as slowly as possible to avoid making too much sound. But god was it worth the wait— as soon as he slipped his hand into his boxers he had to bite his lip, it was so good just to get some attention for his poor, lonely dick.

This was far from the first time Eddie had jerked off to the thought of you. But he was sure he'd never done it while you were this close.

He did it once or twice in your bathroom while you were on the other side of the wall, that was probably the closest he'd come to this before. And that was chump change compared to this-- this was so risky it made his heart race and his hands shake with adrenaline, but it only made him more desperate for whatever reason.

He wouldn't have swiped his thumb through the precum at his slit if he had known how good it would feel— or maybe if he'd known how good it would feel, he would've been able to prepare himself for it. But the anxiety of getting caught had made him even more sensitive, so he hadn't really seen it coming, and when he did it he let out a little moan through his teeth that he couldn't stop.

You stirred again and he froze; when you lifted your head off of his shoulder, he hastily shoved himself back into his jeans, trying to cover up the open fly with the bottom of his shirt.

“Were you… jerking off?” you realized, and he felt sick with fear as his heart raced like never before.

“W-what?” he scoffed incredulously.  “I— are you crazy?”

“Ed,” you warned firmly.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “I— sorry—”

“Are you that bored?” you mocked with a snort, and he felt even more flushed; it made his cock flex under the mediocre covering of his shirt when you degraded him like that.

“N-no— well, yeah, I just— you put your head on me and I—”

“It was because of me?” you realized, and his mouth fell open.  He hadn’t realized that you hadn’t actually put that together yet; of course he’d ended up just digging himself deeper.

“W-well, uh— I mean, no, no I— well.  Kind of?”

“Kind of, as in…”

“Completely,” he blurted out.

You were quiet for a long time, and he couldn’t see your face well enough to even try to guess what you were thinking.  Although you probably could’ve given him a thousand guesses and he never would’ve guessed what you ended up saying: “You want some help with that?” you offered.

But before he could even answer— not that he really could, he was too busy having a short circuit in his brain— you were reaching for his lap.  And even if his mind was blown, his body knew to just lift his hands up and out of the way and let you do whatever you wanted to him.

You pulled up the bottom of his shirt and sighed a little when you saw his cock, still hard and leaking and curled up against his stomach.  You carefully wrapped your hand around it, and he swallowed thickly, wondering if he was dreaming or something— you were so… soft.

“Like this?” you asked gently, making his hips twitch up into your hand for a second.

“Y-yeah,” he nodded, eyes glued to the way your hand looked wrapped around him.  If only the lights weren’t out, he wanted to see it even better.

He looked at your face, moving your hair a little to make sure he could see you, but from what he could tell your eyes were trained on his lap.

“Fuuuck,” he whispered when you stroked him a bit more confidently.  He wanted to shut his eyes from how good it felt, but he didn’t want to look away from a moment of this in case you, you know, came to your senses and stopped.

“S’really thick,” you said, under your breath, a little bit shyly.  He groaned and ran his hand over your back, trying not to do too much in case it startled you but also totally helpless to how badly he needed you.  “I wonder if I can…”

You trailed off, and before he could decide if he should ask what you were going to say, you 

As soon as you leaned down and put your mouth around him, his back arched and his legs kicked a bit.  “Fuck, baby,” he choked out, melting into the warm feeling of your lips, your tongue— god, he couldn’t believe you were doing this to him.  He actually had to fight the urge to tell you so, to admit how much he’d imagined this; he settled for whining out your name and running a hand over your hair encouragingly.  “S’fucking warm, oh my god—”

You hummed around him, sucking a bit harder, swirling your tongue around the tip; who the fuck taught you that?  It made his chest burn with some targetless jealousy even while it made his cock flex proudly. 

Your hand still gripping the base, you took him a little bit deeper, moaning a little bit once again while you did it.  No way you actually enjoyed this, right?

You pulled your head up a bit— he took his hand away quickly, not trying to hold you down or anything— and just when he wondered if you might stop, you dropped down lower so you could run your tongue up from the very bottom all the way to his leaking slit—

“Jesus,” he laughed thinly, “what are you doing to me, baby?”

“Whatever I wanna do,” you replied— if he was a little braver, he would’ve asked what made you want this, how long you wanted this— but he was more than content to let you do whatever you wanted, so far you had some pretty fucking good ideas.

Your head sank even a little bit lower, and he pushed his jeans down just a bit in case they were getting in your way.  Boy, was he glad he did.  “Fuck,” he gasped, watching in shock as you looked up at him while your tongue ran over his balls.  “Sorry, they’re, uh, kinda sweaty…”

“Even better,” you purred; what the fuck were you doing acting so dirty like that?

“Baby,” he laughed thinly, “is this some kind of claustrophobia-induced psychosis or something?  Who are you and what have you done with my prude best friend?”

“Prude?  That’s unfair,” you laughed.  “Just ‘cause I don’t advertise every dirty thought that goes through my mind doesn’t mean I’m not as much of a freak as you…”

“Freak is an understatement,” he sighed, struggling to keep his voice even when he was literally watching you lick all over his balls like this.  “You’re a proper fucking slut.”

You hummed proudly, eyes getting a little heavier— when you looked up at him like that, he was totally helpless.  “It’s slutty to wanna taste your best friend’s balls?”

“F-fuck, of course it is,” he whined, cock flexing in your hand again when you licked a stripe up between then.

“Well then yeah, guess I’m a slut,” you agreed. 

“G-god, I— I’m gonna—” he tried to warn you, but it happened so fast— it happened the second you started to gently suck on his balls, in fact.  What was he supposed to do when you did that?!  How could he not shoot cum all over his now-definitely-ruined shirt?

“Oh shit,” you giggled— his cock was still flexing and you were already mocking him.

“What— what the fuck,” he began, trying to catch his breath, “made you wanna do that?”

But you were already straddling his lap, pulling up your skirt to your waist.

“F-fuck, baby, I— are you seriously—?”

He cut himself off and whimpered when he got a good look at your panties, the cute lacy kind— and pretty fucking soaked already.

“I-I don’t have a condom,” he warned you, cursing himself inside for finally throwing out the one in his wallet thinking he would never end up needing it.

“Don’t care,” you sighed, pulling your panties aside and guiding his tip right up to your entrance.

“Fuck, that’s—”

He was gonna say it was insanely hot, but you hardly noticed; you were already sliding down onto him, taking him in one motion right to the base.

“Oh fuck!” he nearly shouted, gripping hard onto your thighs.  “F-fuck, you’re so tight, fuck…”

You started moving right away, grinding on top of him for a second before lifting your hips and bouncing up and down.  “Fuck,” you sighed, “so deep…”

Was it wrong that he loved the way you were basically just using him?  You hadn’t even let him finish his sentence, you didn’t ask if he could handle it right after coming— you just started riding him, and far be it from him to complain about that.

“Take this off,” he pleaded, tugging at your unbuttoned shirt and trying to push it off your shoulders.

You helped him get it off, and before you’d even tossed it off to the side he was reaching behind you to unclasp your bra.  The gods of bra clasps smiled down upon him that day, because he was sure he’d never gotten one open so quickly, and if there was any time he really needed it, it was now.

“Fuck,” he groaned when he got a good look at them— not good enough in this dim orange lighting, but it would do— and instantly got a hold of your chest.  You didn’t seem to mind the clammy hands, considering the way you whimpered a little and clenched inside around him.  “God, baby, your tits…”

As much as he’d been waiting ages for a chance to see you naked, he couldn’t deny you looked way too good with the skirt, stockings, and heels still on.  He could already tell this was going to give him a complex.

He ran a hand up your leg as you moved just to feel the silky nylon; god, he hoped you didn’t get fired for the unexplained extreme lateness, if not just for your sake then so that you would keep dressing like this every day.  “So pretty,” he sighed, wondering if you could see in the dark how totally in awe he was of you.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, in that way he’d always imagined you would in a time like this.  Your head fell back and he couldn’t help but reach up and grab your neck— not applying much pressure, just holding you there, just admiring how goddamn perfect his hand looked wrapped around you.  

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Eddie sighed, “fuck, look at you go.”

You smiled a little, he could see it even with your head tilted back like that, and it was just amazing seeing you so… free?  So relaxed and totally shameless, giving in to your pleasure.  But it wasn’t enough: he wanted to see you lose all your composure, he wanted to hear you scream his name, he wanted to make you shake and cry and beg— that was why he grabbed a tight hold of your hips and pulled you down onto him, bucking his hips up to meet you halfway.  It forced his cock even deeper and you yelped a little.

“Not too big for you, is it?” he taunted.

“No, fuck, s’perfect,” you moaned, your voice deep and rough and so fucking beautiful like this.  “Fuckin’ perfect, Ed, o-oh god—”

“Keep saying my name,” he ordered.

“Eddie,” you said, again, but this time all needy and cute; it just made him fuck you harder, biting down on his lip to muffle some of his own noises— he just wanted to hear you.  He pulled you down and hugged you close, keeping you still so he could fuck up into you exactly how he wanted; you moaned right by his ear, fuck it was too precious.  

“I’m already close again,” he admitted with a thin laugh.  “Fuck, look what you do to me.”

You whined louder, clenching on his cock— he seriously did not know how much more of this he could take.

“Wanted you so bad,” he blurted out, unable to stop himself, “wanted this for so long.  Wanted to fuck you— I wanna make you come, fuck, please, please come.”

He felt you nod against his shoulder as you gasped, and he shut his eyes tight, just focusing on his movements and trying his best not to speed up too much just to chase his own high.  He needed you to come more than he needed his own pleasure, even if everything in his body was screaming for a chance to come inside you. “So close,” you panted, “fuck, Eddie, don’t stop— please don’t stop— yes!”

The lights turning back on suddenly startled you both, making him freeze and look around (and squint a little from the brightness), but that was nothing compared to the shock of the doors opening.  Behind them was mostly just concrete, the space between floors, but up top was about two feet of the eighth level, where a crew of firefighters could be seen peering in.

“Are they alright?” someone from the building asked as Eddie scrambled to grab his jacket from the corner and cover you up with it.

“Yeah, looks like they’re doing just fine,” one of the men announced as they broke out in surprised laughter.

[inkskinned]

you have to go to work so you can pay for your doctor, who is not taking your insurance right now, and if you say i can't afford the doctor's you are told - get a better job. it is very sad that you are unwell, yes, but maybe you should have thought about that before not having a better job.

(where is the better job? who is giving out these better jobs? you are sick, you are hurting - how the hell are you supposed to be well enough for this better job?)

but you go to the doctor because you had the nerve to be hurt or sick or whatever else. and they tell you that it is because you have anxiety. you try your best. you are a self-advocate. you've done the reading (which sometimes pisses them off worse, honestly). you say it is actually adding to my anxiety, it is effecting my quality of life. so they say that you are fat. they say that all young people have this happen to them, isn't it a medical marvel! they say that you should eat more vegetables. they say that you probably just need to lose a little more weight, and that you are faking it for attention.

(what attention could this doctor possibly give? what validation? that's their fucking job, isn't it?)

there is always a hypochondriac, right. someone always tells you about a hypochondriac. or someone who is unnecessarily aggressive during the worst days of their life. or someone looking "for a quick fix". or some idiot who wasn't educated about how to properly care for themselves who just abandons their treatment. and again, the hypochondriac, the overly-cautious hysteric. these people don't deserve to be treated like humans (right), and since you might be one of these people, you also don't get treated like a human. because those people can really fuck with the system, you now have to pay for it. and besides. you're actually probably faking it.

(more often than not, you find a 2:1 ratio of these stories. for every "hypochondriac", there are 2 people who knew something was wrong, and yet nobody could fucking find it. the story often ends with pointless suffering. the story often ends with and now it's too late, and it's going to kill me.)

you are actually just making excuses. someone else got that procedure or that diagnosis and he's fine, you should be fine too. someone else said they watched a documentary about other inspirational people with your exact same condition, maybe you should be inspirational, too. you're just too morbid. your pain and your experience is probably just not statistically concerning. it is all self-reported anyway, and you're just being a baby.

(once, while sitting down in the middle of making coffee, you had the sudden, horrible thought - i could kill myself to make the pain stop. you had to call your best friend after that. had to pet your dog. had to cry about it in the shower. you won't, but that moment - god, fuck. the pain just goes on and on.)

you know someone who went in for routine surgery and said i still feel everything. they told her to just relax. it took her kicking and screaming before they figured out she wasn't lying - the anesthetic drip hadn't been working. you know someone who went in for severe migraines who was told drink water and lose weight. you know someone who was actively bleeding out and throwing up in the ER and was told you're just having a bad period.

in the ER there are always these little posters saying things like "don't wait! get checked today!" and you think about how often you do wait. how often the days spool out. you once waited a full week before seeing the doctor for what you thought was a sprained wrist. it had actually been broken - they had to rebreak it to set it.

but you go into the doctor. the problem you're having is immediate. the person behind the counter frowns and says we're not taking your insurance. you will be paying for this out-of-pocket.

they send you home with tylenol and a little health packet about weight loss or anxiety or attention deficit. on the front it has your birthday and diagnosis. you think about crying, and the words swim. it might as well say go fuck yourself. it might as well say you're a fucking idiot. it might as well say light your money on fire and lie down in it. and the entire fucking time - the problem persists.

it's okay. it's okay, it's just another thing, you think. it's just another thing i have to learn to live with.

[idolindrawer]

Snap

IVE Yujin x Male Reader Smut 3.4k words

I'm not a native English speaker, so some expressions might sound odd. I'm always open to suggestions for improvement.

"Whatever you wish for will come true if you wish for it correctly,” the fortune teller says.

"That's not what I came here for," you say, stubbing out your cigarette in the ashtray with a huff of annoyance. "Don't you have any better advice?"

"This is the best advice I can give you," the fortune teller replies, completely unfazed. "The key is to do it correctly. Wishes need a trigger."

Growing increasingly irritated, you begin snapping your fingers repeatedly to vent your frustration. You came seeking guidance on how to improve your life, but this is a huge disappointment. 

The fortune teller seems oblivious to your anger and says cheerfully, "There you go, use that as your trigger. Whenever you make a wish, snap your fingers."

"This is like throwing 50,000 won down the drain," you sigh in exasperation, grabbing your bag and jacket, ready to leave the fortune teller's tent.

"Well, feel free to go,” the fortune teller says, looking surprised as if he had never met a customer who didn't believe in his words. "But it'll be worth 50,000 won if you give it a try."

Because of that fortune teller, the lunch break was wasted. You hurry along the path to your office, but as usual, you get held up by the traffic lights just 200 meters before. Being late is unavoidable.

While waiting, a bank advertisement on a nearby building catches your eyes. A celebrity girl dressed in the bank's signature green gives you a broad smile. You've seen her in other ads before. Isn't her name An Yujin or something? She must be a member of some idol group. You vaguely recall your niece being a huge fan.

Even when you look back at the red light of the traffic signal, you can’t get her out of your mind. How much did she earn from that bank ad, anyway? She’s probably around twenty, but her bank account must hold far more than my lifetime earnings... Damn it.

Seriously, if I were giving that huge amount of money to a young girl like her, I’d demand a much more provocative ad. I’d have her wear a skirt so short that her underwear can be seen in front of the press and have her shamelessly flaunt her ass to the cameras. Now that would be sure-fire marketing! You snap your fingers idly, indulging in this wicked fantasy of degrading celebrities to satisfy your ego.

Suddenly, someone's shoulder bumps into you from behind, jolting you back to reality. The light is green.

Just before leaving work, you scroll through social media and are stunned. It turns out that the girl from the ad you had seen at your lunch break was involved in a promotional event just a few hundred meters away. Moreover, she was wearing a skirt so short that it was almost revealing her underwear. The innocent young girl from the ad photo, now in a video from just two hours earlier, was dressed as if the whole of Korea had run out of fabric, shamelessly revealing her toned thighs to the gathered crowd. With a playful twirl, she revealed a glimpse of her white underwear covering her buttocks.

You happen to recall the words of that fortune teller: "Whenever you make a wish, snap your fingers." Did I actually snap my fingers? If so, then that fortune teller must have been a true psychic. If, as he said, wishes can really come true, is there anyone who wouldn't wish for something bigger?

Mesmerized by Yujin's legs on the screen, you swallow hard and imagine her sensual image. Tight-dressed Yujin is kissing in the dimly lit hotel room. As her dress is unzipped, black lace lingerie is revealed. Her buttocks are just covered with a bare minimum G-string, which she teasingly lets fall to her ankles, spreading her legs to accept the cock...

You snap your fingers once, forcefully. If this is going to work, the closer to her, the better chances might be. The event should have ended about an hour and a half ago, but is she still there? Hastily gathering your belongings, you clock out and run out of the office building towards the event venue.

The streets around the venue are teeming with people who have gathered information from social media, yet Yujin is nowhere to be seen. Disappointed to find that the event has ended, most people slowly drift into nearby cafes. Some remain standing, visibly dissatisfied, and frantically searching social media for any trace of her.

You open social media, but find it worthless due to the numerous accounts already capitalizing on her popularity and leveraging it to gain attention. “We're selling rare photo cards!” “Try this dating app for guaranteed meet-ups.” #IVE #YUJIN “Click here for an AI-generated celebrity sex tape...” In the sample video, a porn star with Yujin's face, digitally altered and occasionally glitching, kisses a naked man in a hotel room. His hand reaches for the zipper at her back, unzipping it to reveal her skin, which is trimmed with black lace lingerie...

Wait, can this really be the wish come true? The video is eerily close to what I imagined, but if this is it, then it’s a joke taken too far. The fortune teller must have been a fraud after all. Feeling everything is suddenly absurd, you shove your phone into your pocket and start walking toward the station.

Near the venue, the same posters of Yujin that you saw during the day are displayed, her trusting smile reaching out to you. The fortune teller's words echo in your mind: "The key is to do it correctly." What if the fortune teller was a genuine psychic, and the way to wish was wrong? The first wish came true, after all, and her sex was pulled off even in a rubbish way. It might be too early to conclude that he is a fake psychic.

There could be several reasons for the failure, but simply imagining her sex scene wasn't enough. That is, it requires imagining myself having sex with her. As vividly as possible, the feel of her body, myself slipping in between her legs...

You imagine carefully, snapping your fingers. Fate should take care of the rest. If this doesn't work, tomorrow I'll storm back to that fortune teller and demand my money back.

Before catching the train at the station, you detour slightly to use the public restroom. Using this station over 250 days a year, you know exactly where to find the always empty and relatively clean toilets.

You finish your business, wash your hands carelessly, and as you lift your head to see a tall girl staring at you from the mirror. Her white skirt is so short that her underwear is almost visible.

"An Yujin...ssi?"

It's definitely her. She's wearing the same outfit she had on at the daytime event, her arms crossed, looking slightly displeased at you.

"Why are you here?" you ask timidly. 

"Isn't this what you wanted?" With that, Yujin strides towards you, her hand reaching for the belt of your pants without hesitation. "Let's get this over with." 

Intimidated by the girl's boldness, you calmly scan the surroundings to ensure it’s safe, then guide her by the arm into the cleanest stall you can find.

"Are you the real An Yujin?" You whisper, keeping your voice low to avoid being heard. 

"There's another me?" She glances at you exasperatedly, then returns to dealing with your pants. With the same detachment as unlocking a door, she unbuckles your belt, lowers the zipper, and pulls off your pants. Her movements are awkward, but she's completely focused on her task, as if you weren’t even there, and that annoys you a little.

Despite her businesslike demeanor, every time her slender fingers brush against your lower body, your cock stiffens with the intimacy of contact you haven't felt in a long time and the anticipation of what's to come.

“But I haven't done anything yet?” Her fingers caress through your underwear, confirming your arousal. Looking satisfied with the heat of your groin, she smiles.

“May I take these off?” Before you can even nod, she’s already crouching down, pulling the waistband of your boxer briefs down to your ankles, revealing you completely.

Yujin remains crouched, staring at your exposed cock with interest. As you glance down, you notice her tight white mini shorts peeking out from under her skirt. Your cock responds to it, twitching with excitement before her eyes.

“You like being watched, huh?” Yujin says with a knowing smile. As she wraps her hand around your cock, giving it a few strokes, she stands up. You, expecting oral sex or something more, are disappointed and surprised. 

“Hey, is that all?”

"I'll do what you wished," she says with a mischievous grin. Then, balancing on her tiptoes and spreading her legs slightly, she holds your cock between the middle of her thighs carefully. "Feel free to move.”

You realize you've messed up again. When you snapped your fingers, you may have been too focused on her legs, and the wish was misinterpreted as thighfuck with her.

“Uh, wait a moment, let me snap my fingers again. This time, I’ll do it right,” you babble in a flustered tone, causing Yujin to look at you with curiosity. “Snap your fingers? What do you mean? Are you already satisfied?”

No way. The wish may have been downgraded, but it's the worst outcome to lose the favorable situation that's already come true. You pull yourself together and direct your full attention on the sensations of her two legs.

Her thighs are curvaceous compared to her slender waist, wrapping around your shaft and transferring her warmth from all directions. As you hold onto her thighs and move your body slowly back and forth, you can feel her bare, soft skin follow together, and the firm muscle layer beneath grips your cock tightly and never releases it.

"Your legs are incredibly gorgeous," you mutter, and for the first time, Yujin looks genuinely embarrassed. It's unclear why this celebrity girl was sent here, but it’s clear that she’s here to provide sexual services to this stranger, so why not make the most of it?

You put your hands on her hips and accelerate the reciprocating motions. As you press your lower body against her legs, the silky surface of her thighs ripples in response. Yujin grips your shoulders to stay balanced, trying to keep steady despite the constant kinetic energy. Your chin rests on her shoulder, and her hair brushes against your face. The sweet scent of her conditioner unexpectedly captivates you.

As sweat beads on your forehead, you wonder why, even though the wish was downgraded, things are still happening that you didn’t expect. Perhaps there’s no rule saying that once a wish is granted in a silly way, nothing else can occur. It might be up to the one who wished to make use of the situation.

To get the most out of the circumstances, you begin to secretly explore the boundary. Slide your hands back on her hips slightly, then cover her ass. There is no indication of her resistance. You knead on Yujin’s tight buttocks and move as if you were thrusting her. It seemed you heard a faint noise leak out of her mouth, but she didn’t stop you.

Then you bring your hands a little bit towards her waist, slipping them under the hem of Yujin’s blouse. Carefully touching her bra in her clothes, your eyes meet hers.

"Can I touch them?"

“Get it done quickly, okay?” Yujin says, looking away. You take that as approval and rub her breasts roughly. She's wearing something like a bandeau bra with no wires underneath her clothing, and you can feel the softness of her breasts even though they’re covered with the bra. But seized by an inevitable urge to see the hardness at the center, you forcefully pull the bra down.

Yujin's breasts are perfectly proportioned, and their distinct curvature and firmness bring a sense of satisfaction. When you touch their smoothness, you’re amazed to see your fingers sinking more than you expected. At the center, a reddish-brown areola the size of a coin surrounds a taut, protruding nipple. You pinch them lightly, then electricity runs through her body. She bashfully covers her mouth with the back of her hand, trying to hide her rough breath.

When you get carried away and go to kiss her, she pulls you away. With her flushed face, she said, “Focus on finishing this” while suffering the pleasure of her upper body.

As you explore Yujin’s youthful body freely, your cock is growing more sensitive and nearing release under the pressure of her thighs. However, your overwhelming passion for the ultimate goal makes it impossible to be satisfied with just releasing your desire between her legs.

“But I wanna be inside you.”

“Just come like this,” she responds bluntly. Expecting this answer, you decided to try another approach.

You stop moving for a moment, pull the hot shaft out from between her legs, lift her hips up, and then push it back in, at a higher position than before, so it can rub against her mini shorts.

“Wait, what are you…” Yujin becomes upset, but when you start moving it, she lets out a small moan. Thrusting your thickness, you can feel the softness of her pussy through the fabric. As you adjust the angle to hit her sweet spot, her hips twitch slightly in response to the pleasure.

Yujin grabs your shoulders and lowers her head, rounding her back to resist the temptation. Although you can't see her face, her shallow, quickened breaths sync with your sensation. You shift one of your hands from her hips to her chest, palming her breast and teasing her nipple with your fingertips.

Her short cry echoes in the empty train station restroom, and both you and she look at each other in surprise. The air feels frozen for a moment, but as you realize there’s no one around to hear it, you both resume the session.

As you gaze into Yujin's eyes, she meets your stare with disheveled hair and a messy face. She is flushed and damp with sweat, and her eyebrows are filled with shame and pleasure. Every time you tease her breasts with a nipple, she bites her lower lip, indicating that your treatment isn’t wrong.

“Keep going,” Yujin murmured with words that were neither order nor plea, revealing her desperate need for ecstasy. You see this as an opportunity to negotiate with her in the heat of the moment.

"After I get it into you," you say clearly, and Yujin seems unsure of how to respond, looking confused. The wish granted you fake sex with IVE's Yujin, but if you want anything more, you’ll have to achieve it on your own. So, does this mean that the An Yujin in front of you is genuinely struggling with whether or not to accept your cock, regardless of the power of the wish?

You think the last push is necessary and sneak your hand inside her shorts, searching for her clit. Her pussy is already soaking wet, and as you slide your fingers on her sensitive skin, which is coated with lube, unbearable pleasure spreads throughout her body. Yujin lets out a muffled moan, and she hugs your neck to keep herself from collapsing. Finally, she gives in and says, "Okay, okay.”

She looks at you awkwardly, pinches the waistband of her shorts, and then lowers them with a polite gesture. As she lifts her leg and removes the high heels from her shorts, you catch a glimpse of her completely shaved pussy. With a hand on the stall door, she turns around and slightly lifts her skirt, presenting her buttocks to you.

"Oppa, hurry up.”

Her curt tone sounded like a cheap whore, which rather turned you on. You place your cock against her wet labia and press gently. You are permitted to enter through her moist skin and proceed into her feverish depth. As your head glides along with her mucus walls, she groans in sensation. Retracing the path, you feel her pussy waves and grips your cock tightly, pulling you back to inside.

While you teasingly savor her insides, Yujin gestures with her sweaty hand to thrust more. You grab her waist roughly and drag her buttocks toward your pelvis. The sounds of skin slapping against skin echo through the empty restroom, her buttocks undulating, and the young idol's unrestrained cries fill the air.

Yujin's breathing becomes irregular and intense as a result of your relentless thrusting. She tries to soften the impact by moving away from you, but the small stall offers no escape. Despite her effort, the insistent slamming continues unabated, and she appears to be on the edge of collapse.

“Oppa, I need a…" She manages to whisper, shaken by the assault from behind. You pretend not to hear her while constantly stirring her pussy. You fiercely grasp the artistic shape of her ass with both hands, thrusting the heated shaft in and out of the lubricated hole in the center.

With one thrust, Yujin rounds her back and convulses her whole body. After a few seconds of trembling, exhaustion overwhelms her, and she’s about to fall. You quickly catch her, turn her around, and sit her down on the lid of the closed toilet.

Her face is flushed red, and she is barely catching her breath. Her nipples move up and down as she breathes, and her legs hang on either side of the toilet, displaying her undressed lower body. The contrast with her cheerful smile in the advertisement is intensely stimulating, but you avoid staring at her to keep her from realizing how she looks now and getting back to reality.

Yujin's inner thighs are glistening with a few streaks of wetness. You take and place them on your shoulders, inserting your still-hot cock from the front. She moans softly and becomes addicted to the sensation of your shaft stretching out her vagina.

As you push your cock through her labia and into her depth, the force causes her breasts to jiggle. You are immersed in the awareness of your movements piercing through her entire body, unable to stop yourself from moving frantically. Instinct guides your hands to her swinging breasts, your lips to her sweat-slicked neck, and then to her lips for a kiss. This time, Yujin doesn’t resist and gives in to your approach. You and this idol caress each other's lips, entwine their tongues, and share the taste of saliva.

Slamming your shaft into Yujin's pussy, you rub her clit with the thumb of one hand a few times. She twists her face and manages to remain silent in a desperate effort, but as the moment of release approaches again, her expression turns into a mix of fear and anticipation.

She presses both hands against her mouth, and after a split-second of weakness, her body trembles with orgasm on the toilet lid. Her inside is spasming around your cock, but you can't stop moving because you feel the dopamine approaching. Thrusting her lube-soaked, fluttering cunt just a few times, hot semen rushes into her depths.

Breathing heavily, you and Yujin watch the cock is pulled out of her pussy, which is glistening with mucus, and the sperm runs out. Yujin's hair is tangled, and she appears fatigued, but there is a strange satisfaction on her face as she looks at the spilled secretions.

As you're wrapping the toilet paper, you hear a few men entering the restroom. Hey, come on. It's gonna take a while to get out. The instant you are distracted by the noise outside, you feel a warm, wet touch on your lower body. Yujin is bending over, eagerly putting your cock into her mouth, and bobbing her head to suck out every last drop of your cum. Surprised, yet unable to resist the seductive sensation of her tongue gliding over your shaft, your cock quickly returns to its earlier state.

"Looks like we can't go out yet," leaving lips from your cock, Yujin whispers teasingly. "There's still time for another round, right?” she says, carefully sitting back down on the toilet lid so as not to make any noise, and spreading her graceful long legs wide.

Damn, it’s really worth 50,000 won.

[lufyuu]

Dragon's Offsprings

Tw/s: voyeurism, double penetrating, rough Zihao, breeding, inserting eggs(?)

Description: a drabble of the freaky Zihao

Pitter patter

The rain seems to never stop. It has been raining for almost 3 days straight. Despite the heavy rain, Liu Zihao would always travel the long way to the courthouse to work. The rain doesn't stop criminals from commiting crimes, it encourages them in a way. Though that doesn't include you who have been in the manor for a long month. You got used to this lifestyle a long time ago. Waking up whenever you want, going to bed whenever you want, having whatever food you wanted. The only restriction is that you are not allowed outside without Zihao being there by your side. It's not too bad, better than being chased all the time anyways.

Today's not too bad, at least so far. You're home alone, the chefs and maids having left as per your request. Despite being home alone, you can't escape, you've tried before and it's really no worth all that work just to be tracked down again in just a mere minute. Liu Zihao always knows where you are. You look at the clock which points at a quarter to 6pm. Usually Zihao's home for dinner around this time. Whatever, probably had more work to do today. You'll just eat dinner by yourself.

The aroma of delicious food floods your nose. Your eyes are drawn to the two plates placed on the table. You take one plate and start munching on food while sitting down. Even if it's a large yet quiet and empty house, you pay no mind to that as you've lived alone for a while before all this luxury. The steal is cooked just to your liking, it's juicy and delicious with the right amount of spices added to make sure it's not too salty yet not bland at all. After chewing on the steak, you take the fork and grab some pasta plates next to the steak. Twisting it and lifting the fork to your lips. It's creamy and flavourful, the saltiness and creamy flavour compliments each other very well. You enjoy the meal to the fullest in silence, enjoying every second.

You throw the empty and dirty plate in the sink, not bothering to wash it. Zihao will deal with it like he always does. No reason to waste your time with that. 'Now what do I do?' , you wonder to yourself while walking up the flight of stairs, heading to your bedroom. Oftentimes, your bed is also Zihao's bed. He loves cuddling up with you and just making sure you're within his grasp. "Agh", you plop face first onto the soft bed. For some reason, the atmosphere is off without Zihao. Usually by this time, he'd already be fucking you dumb until you pass out or get too tired to continue. You wouldnt ever admit it but it became a routine. Your body's gotten used to it and so have you. Because of this, you feel like you need to do something about this itching feeling you have.

"Ah...ngh", you moan, face flushed with a vibrating dildo deep in your hole. Your teeth's biting onto your lifted shirt, your dominant hand pushing and pulling the dildo in and out. "Z-Zihao..mm..!", you unconsciously moan out his name, your other hand now on your dick going up and down to stimulate yourself even more. No matter how much you stimulate yourself, you can't seem to cum. You need something bigger to please you. Usually you'd be ashamed to even think about Zihao let alone his two cocks but right now, as you're trying to chase your climax, it doesn't matter. "More...aagghh", you moan out even louder than before, not noticing the piercing purple eyes staring at your sweaty and horny figure from the top of the stairs.

You close your eyes, imagining it was Zihao inside you right now and not a silicone wannabe. "F-fuckk..!", you almost yell out, getting so close to cumming. When you hear footsteps close to where you are, you immediately freeze and look at who it is. Your ego instantly crushed, the embarrassment getting to you, hard. You reach over for the fluffy blanket only for it to be thrown at the wall and fall onto the floor by a mere gesture of Zihao's fingers. With another snap of his fingers, a comfortable chair appears infront of the bed. He sits with his legs crossed, head leaning on his hand which is cushioned on the chair. "Do continue", his expression remains unchanged, it's a plain expression, neither a smile nor frown, his eyes are relaxed but at the same time, they're demanding you to continue on your little action. Despite this, you remain frozen long enough for him to demand once more, "was I not clear? Continue your little activity, now.", it sends shivers down your spine, as if he's a predator and you're his prey.

Without a way out of this, you spread your legs and continue letting the dildo go in and out of you, each time faster and faster than before. Now with a pair of eyes watching you do this to yourself, it's embarrassing, you feel like crying due to how bad of a fall your ego took. Never in your life did you think you'd be putting on a show for anyone. "Ngh...", you try to cover your own voice, biting your lip to prevent your moans from getting too loud. This doesn't amuse Zihao at all. "Stop biting your lip", his voice alone makes your body shiver in fear. Reluctantly, you stop biting your lip, "a-ahh...aggh..", the pleasure overtaking your thoughts, in the heat of the moment, you blurt out: "Z-Zihao.."

Just one word. One singular word. That was enough for Zihao to widen his eyes and instantly get up, "that's enough.", he looks down on your figure which is laying on the bed, all prepped and ready to take his cocks and maybe something more.

In a blink of an eye, he pushes you to the bedframe as you are now sitting up, your back laying against the bedframe. He takes off his coat and throws it aside, not caring if it got dirty or wrinkled. "My mate can't even stand a few hours without me, how cute", he smiles a bit, blushing while you're up against the bedframe, horny and wanting him to be deep inside you already without so much yapping.

As if reading your mind, he grants you your wish and shoves his two hard cocks in your hole almost immediately after you thought about them. He guides your hands to wrap around his neck. Then, he holds the sides of your hips and begins to pound in and out of you, you cursing everytime it goes in. Thankfully, your hole is already lubricated, giving the cocks an easier time in fucking your hole. You feel so full but usually it takes Zihao a long long time to decide it's finally time to stop. His thrusts are rough, not in the slightest bit gentle. The bulge on your stomach is very much visible, it moves up and down your lower stomach in a fast pace. "Agh..m", he grunts and moans, feeling the tightness of your hole as you clench down, feeling close to cumming. Your moans get progressively louder by the second. Zihao makes sure it does by pounding even harder.

"Cu-cumming..! Aggghh", you moan loudly while cumming, the cum splurting all over your own body while Zihao is still pounding you. He's chasing his own climax. You feel overstimulated as he's pounding so roughly. It's a lot rougher than usual but you barely notice due to your brain being so foggy by this point. "You're ready to take my children, aren't you my dear mate?", he asks but it's more of a rhetorical question. Before you can answer his absurd question, you feel something being pushed into you, something big. Multiple of them. "Z-Zihao..ah, what's tha—aghh", you feel him cumming inside, his cum thicker and much more than usual. You don't notice it but the mark on your lower stomach started glowing for a mere 3 seconds before returning back to its solid purple color.

Zihao pulls out both his cocks yet despite that, your stomach still has a visible bulge. You feel so so full and not just because of his cum. "Zihao, what's inside me..?", you ask him, confused on what he put inside to make you look bloated. "Oh my dear, those are my eggs", your eyes widen immediately and you try to jump up or out the bed but he stops you, "we can't afford you getting hurt when you're carrying our children", he frowns and looks at you as if this is common knowledge. He's ready to take the role of the father of his kids and your one and only husband, but are you?

══════════════════════════════

There you have it freakies, you're now gon' lay eggs/hj

[star-girl69]

Better Than Revenge

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

sypnosis: more jealous clarisse and this time she gets to be insane about it (I Can See You coded tbh)

a/n: soft clarisse MOVE OVER insane clarisse hiiiiiii ….anyways i hope you all enjoy!!

Better Then Revenge - Taylor Swift

warnings: possessive clarisse pleek i want you i need you, violence, swearing, punching lol, men, allusions to sex and this is just pretty suggestive, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

The anniversary of Mr. D being sentenced to a life at Camp Half Blood has become his birthday over the years.

Of course, his children use that as an excuse to throw a rowdy party disguised as a simple bonfire.

Chiron turns a blind eye, as long as everyone swears to not give him any alcohol, and there’s still a modicum of responsibility among the camp population.

It’s one of the highlights of the summer, the heat from the fire, the dark night lit only by Selene, where it feels like you can do anything and get away with it.

It’s your first with Clarisse, and by the way she’s looking at you right now, you’re probably not gonna last more than an hour before you get dragged somewhere to make out. Which is not what you want.

You’re already in your outfit, the jean shorts you know she likes, the low-cut top you know she likes, leaning over in front of the mirror as you do your lipstick.

“Do you have something you want to say?”

Clarisse usually sits with you as you get ready for something, since you shamelessly take longer than her. She always calls you her prettiest girl, then expects you not to live up to it?

She doesn’t rush you. She’s never impatient. She just likes watching you, and it’s fun to put on a show.

She always looks at you, but something about the look in her eyes tonight is especially… feral.

“What’d you mean?” she says, smirking and leaning back on her elbows.

The Aphrodite cabin is a particular swirl of activity, but your little corner is just you and her. She refused to wear anything but her camp t-shirt and a pair of jeans, of course, but she looks good in anything.

“You’re looking at me like you want to pounce.”

“Took you this long to pick up on that?”

You laugh, bending over to grab a jewelry box that lives at the foot of your floor length mirror.

“Baby, let’s just stay back,” she groans.

“This is our first time going together, though. I want to go.”

“And I want to kiss you until we both pass out.”

“Oh, how romantic,” you whisper, holding earrings up to your ear. The dangly pearls look best. Some sort of dangerous thought slithers into your mind, and you turn around to face her with a slow smile.

“Oh, Gods. What?”

“If you can go an entire hour without kissing me…”

She looks up at you like you’ve just called her the worst warrior at camp.

“Then we’ll leave as soon as the hours up, and do whatever you want. But if you can’t, then we get to stay until I say so.”

She smirks. The only thing she loves more than you is competition, a challenge. You watch her eyes light up.

“I can do an hour.”

“Oh, really?”

“I have amazing self-control, actually.”

“Oh, really?” you repeat, drawing out the word.

“Really,” she says, rolling her eyes and mocking you.

She’s sitting on the edge of your bed, leaning back on her palms now, watching you as you step forward.

“Really,” she says again.

But her smile fades as you place your hands on her shoulders, her hands coming to your waist as you place yourself right down on her lap. She lies down and let’s you straddle her, tracing her lips with your pointer finger.

It’s so startlingly silent and tense, she can hear your breath, you can hear hers.

You squeeze her face in your hands. “Well, time to go!” you announce, climbing off of her.

“You’re a demon,” she hisses. “A witch.”

“I’m a daughter of Aphrodite,” you roll your eyes. “I prefer to be called a seductress.”

—-

The party is already buzzing when you get there, night just falling and the fire blazing high.

You wave to a few of your friends, dragging Clarisse by the hand as you lead her to the best group of chairs and benches, not too close and not too far from the fire. All of the camp counselors and the people around your age are there, drinking punch and talking amongst themselves.

You greet your half sister and head counselor of the Aphrodite cabin, Phoebe, with a kiss and a hug.

“You look so pretty, Y/N,” she smiles. “I love the pearls.”

“Thank you,” you gush. You look up to Phoebe more than you would like to admit. One day you hope to take her position, and it wouldn’t hurt to make a good impression now. “You look gorgeous.”

Clarisse’s hand falls from yours and she pushes you forward to the empty seat next to Phoebe.

You look behind you. She gives you a look that says “Are you dumb? Talk to her.”

You’re always so close to Clarisse, but she goes and sits nexts to a few of her siblings on top of a picnic table 5 feet away.

You hum and start talking to Phoebe about a few of the new arrivals about camp- you both agree one of the new boys is a son of Aphrodite, before Phoebe looks past you and cringes.

“One of the other new kids is staring at you.”

You risk a small glance.

There’s nothing special about him. Pale skin, brown hair and brown eyes. He’s not your type, to say the least, especially when you steal a look at Clarisse and find she’s already looking at you-

You stomach flips.

She taps her wrist as if there was a watch there.

“Almost halfway,” she mouths, smiling brightly.

You look pointedly back at Phoebe.

“He’s eh,” you shrug.

“If he doesn’t stop staring at us I’m gonna go insane.”

“Is he really staring?” you ask.

“Yeah. I think he thinks he’s flirting, or something? I don’t know.”

You shrug. He probably knows you’re dating Clarisse, and if he doesn’t, he probably will soon.

She bumps your shoulder.

“Any updates with Clarisse?”

You smile, playing with your fingers.

“No, not really. We’re still happy. Actually, we’re having a contest right now. If she can resist kiss me for an hour, then we’ll leave. But if she can’t, then we get to stay at the party all night.”

“Ooh, that’s evil,” she teases.

“I know, I’m having so much fun.”

You both laugh, and Phoebe opens her mouth just to close it. She fakes dropping something to lean closer to you.

“He’s coming over here.”

“Oh, Gods,” you mutter.

“Hey, ladies,” he says. His voice is deep and scratchy, like he just smoked an entire pack of cigarettes. “How y’all doin’ tonight? Enjoying the party?”

You have to stifle a laugh. Phoebe was one of the cabin leaders who helped organize the party.

“Havin’ fun,” you smile awkwardly. He stares so intensely into your eyes you have to breathe out not to laugh.

“Good, good. Either of you know where the punch station is?”

“Oh, yeah, sure, it’s right by the Apollo cabin,” Phoebe points.

He follows her finger. “Great, thanks.”

He looks at you and winks. “See you around.”

Both you and Phoebe dissolve into a fit of giggles.

—-

You make your way over to Clarisse after a second, sitting down next to her on the table. You hug your knees to your chest from where they sit on the actual bench.

“‘M cold,” you moan, rubbing your knees.

Her siblings, Carrie and Nelson are now distracted by Phoebe’s animated talking, leaving the two of you.

She wraps her arm around your shoulder, letting you lean against her.

“You wore those shorts,” she says.

“For you.”

“Oh, you’re so mean.”

“Before the challenge. And I think you mean ‘thanks for trying to make me happy, Y/N.’”

Clarisse laughs.

“Okay, pretty thing,” she mutters. “That’s what I meant.”

“Right,” you mutter, pushing yourself further against her. It’s better here, closer to the fire, but there’s still this chill in your bones.

“Stop being so close to me,” Clar mutters.

You turn to her.

“What did you just say to me?”

“It’s almost irresistible to kiss you,” she whispers. “I’m not allowed to kiss your forehead, am I?”

You put your face into her warm neck.

“Is that kissing me?” you whisper, your lips brushing her skin.

“Shut up,” she mumbles, pushing you away from her. “You’re not distracting me. I’m not losing this. One hour, then we’re going back to my cabin and staying there for a long time.”

You smile, lifting your face up from her neck to stare in her eyes. She smiles softly back at you.

“Did you see me turn around and bend over to fix my shoes?”

Her eyes blaze.

“Should have guessed that was on purpose. What’d you call yourself? A seductress? I agree.”

You smile, wrapping your arms around yourself, deciding you’ll be nice and give her a few minutes reprieve. Ares kids are always so warm, and even just being pressed slightly against her is nice.

Someone places a jacket over your shoulders. You smile, turning to Clarisse, not remembering if she had a jacket on. Did she bring one for you?

“Clar, I-”

She’s not looking at you at all. She’s staring off towards the fire, holding your hand, and you know she didn’t just give you this jacket.

Harry walks around the table, smiling.

“Looks better on you then it did me,” he says, awkwardly. “You looked cold, so…” he laughs.

Clarisse finally realizes that he’s talking to the two of you, or well, you.

“Huh?” she says, giving him a bored look. Immediately slipping back into her mean girl persona, even though she was just blushing with your face in her neck five seconds ago.

She looks at you at the corner of her eye.

You’re sitting there, frozen with his jacket over your shoulders.

“Uh…” you say, stupidly, because your mind is literally empty. What are you even supposed to do in this situation?

Clarisse grabs at the black jacket.

“She looked cold,” he says.

She finally realizes what happened.

“So, you’re hitting on my girlfriend? Right next to me?”

His smile falls. “Y-your friend, yeah-”

She rips the jacket off of you and throws it at him.

“Girlfriend,” she hisses.

“It’s not my fault,” he says, scrambling to catch his jacket, getting defensive now. He knows he fucked up, his pride is hurt. “You weren’t even touching, and she was, like, shivering-”

She stands up, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.

“Hey, hey, Clarisse,” her sister Carrie says. “What’s going on?”

Clarisse glares at him. He starts sputtering incoherently.

Carrie raises an eyebrow towards you.

“He gave me his jacket,” you mumble, still feeling a little dazed. “Clar, c’mon, let him go.”

Carrie takes a step back. “Oh, ‘kay. I don’t care if she beats him up then,” she laughs.

“It looked like they were friends!” Harry shouts, pushing Clarisse back.

She punches him in the face.

“Clarisse!” you yell, jumping down from the table. “Don’t you dare!” you grab her arm, she’s fuming, rearing to punch him again.

A crowd has formed around you.

Harry groans and holds his bleeding nose.

“You fucking bitch,” he mutters.

“Clarisse. Clarisse, please, let’s go. Let’s just go.”

“You weren’t even that hot anyway,” he hisses.

“Don’t fucking talk about her!” she yells, jumping forward to punch him again-

“Clarisse!” you shout, not wanting her to get in trouble but you’re a second too late. Her fist flies into his cheek, but he’s prepared this time, so he takes it and counters with his own punch.

Your heart squeezes, but she blocks it, and both of their respective siblings finally jump in to hold them back.

“Oh, Gods,” you mumble, staring at his blood on the ground. At least it’s not hers. “Carrie!” you shout, giving her a pleasing look, and she nods.

“C’mon, Clarisse,” she says. “You’re very strong and tough, stop beating up the twig whose got no chance.”

It takes three of her siblings to corner her against the picnic bench.

“Giving her your fucking jacket, I should kill you!” she shouts, thrashing against her siblings hold. “She’s mine, dumbass, we’re always around each other, did you not notice?!”

“Clarisse- stop!” Carrie grunts, putting everything she has into holding her back.

“Go fuck yourself,” he groans, finally having enough common sense to cup his nose and walk away, the groups of people parting for him.

You stand there, shocked. Phoebe comes next to you.

“Oh, I love this night,” she sighs. You shoot her an unimpressed look.

After he’s gone, her siblings let a fighting Clarisse out of their holds, and she scans the crowd, but Harry really has disappeared. Her eyes find yours immediately.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, marching towards you and immediately pressing her lips against yours.

Pride is her fatal flaw. And when her ego is wounded, especially when it comes to you, she feels an inherent need to try and get it back.

She can’t beat up Harry, but showing everyone you’re hers is what you guessed she would do next.

She grabs you by the neck, the other arm wrapping around your waist, bringing you two closer together. You’re touching everywhere, kissing her is like touching her electric spear, and she finally pulls away slowly.

She can’t say that she loves you, so she just kisses your temple instead, wrapping her arm back around your shoulder.

As much as you hate violence, that was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

—-

Clarisse drags you off to her cabin.

“Oh, fuck,” she mumbles, opening the door.

“What?” you whisper, squeezing her hand.

“The contest. We should have stayed-”

You snort. “Who gives a fuck about the contest? I’ve been swayed. Let’s go make out.”

She seems a little shocked, extremely excited, and starts ushering you towards the ladder of the loft.

“Well, who am I to deny you,” she says, holding your ass as you ascend.

“Also, stop punching people.”

“That’s where I deny you.”

You make it to the top, her hands on your waist as she follows you. She’s always touching you, like she’s addicted to you. You pretend, but you’re so in love with her you genuinely think you’re gonna fall over just thinking about her sometimes.

“Clarisse, seriously. You’re gonna get in trouble one day, and-”

She spins you around and throws you back on your bed. You yelp as she climbs on top of you.

“No. Kiss now, lecture later.”

You protest, but she shuts you up by smashing her lips into yours. It’s rough, you did tease her all night, all teeth and the sounds of your roaring heartbeats.

She starts kissing down your neck, your dig your hands into your curls.

“‘She’s mine’?” you say after a second, referencing her anger-haze of a rant.

“Yes,” she says. Softly, but not sheepishly. She says it confident and proud. “You are.”

“I am,” you mutter back, having a feeling she’s gonna leave hickey’s all over you.

You do your best to flip her over, but she’s all muscle and it’s hard, so she ends up grabbing your hips and helping you.

“What?” she gasps, confused at the change of position. Not that she’s complaining, though.

“You did lose the challenge,” you tease.

She doesn’t like to admit she lost.

You hover your lips right above hers.

“Say it.”

Her fingers dig into your hips.

“I lost,” she grits. “You won.”

“I did,” you mumble, lips grazing yours, but you’re getting bored and you want to kiss her just as bad.

And you do, your hands on her face, her fingers starting to slip under your shirt. She mumbles against your lips.

“Fuck, this is so much better than revenge.”

—-

(i’m actually the funniest person alive if you couldn’t tell)

—-

clarisse: oh, so you think i cant take care of my girlfriend? because we’re not close enough? because you think she’s cold? well guess what. now i’m never letting her out of my sight again, fuckfaces

y/n: FUCK YES i mean noooooooo noooooo that’s horrible omggg

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme

@jazhandzzz @urbisexualfriend

[00kittenz]

── our little secret. ( psh ) 🧸

๑ In which Sunghoon makes you realize just how badly you’ve missed his touch after going almost a week without it…

pair: sunghoon ㅊ f!reader | warnings: smut, pwp, cheating (oof), secret relationship, slightly jealous and possessive sunghoon, teasing, begging, fingering (in both holes lol), praise and degrading, oral (f + m rec.), spanking, piv, unprotected s.x | words: 2.0k

this is based off this ask i got the other day !! i kinda wrote more smut cs im a slut for hoon what can i say lol. but thnx to that anon for this delicious idea ヾ(>᎑<๑)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“why haven’t you been answering any of my calls ?” sunghoon looked visibly in distress, profusely running his fingers through his hair, “had me worried sick about you..”

you stood in front of the doorway quiet, heaving out a sigh before you could explain, “..i’m really sorry hoon. it’s just i got caught up again with—” stopping yourself mid sentence, you spare him of any further details, deciding to just drop this whole subject entirely. “actually never mind, just forget it.”

he isn’t dumb, he knows exactly what you’re talking about. it’s just he chooses to turn a blind eye to it all. doesn’t wanna get caught in the midst, even though he quite literally already is. he’d rather not hear about another fight you and your boyfriend had, or knowing the stability of your relationship with him at all. in the beginning it didn’t affect him as much, but as time went on he just couldn’t bear to listen anymore. sunghoon will never understand why you’re still with him when he can be all that you need and so much more.

call him delusional or whatever, but you were his girl. no one else’s. he’s so crazy about you that if you asked him to kill someone for you he’d probably do it without even hesitating. it’s kind of pathetic to be so blindly in love with someone who’s already taken, but he’s been dead set on you since the day you two locked eyes. ‘love at first sight’ or whatever you may call it. he’s never felt more deeply in tune with another person, it’s like you two were made for each other. of course he’d give anything for you to break up with that loser, it’s just going to take some time (and convincing) to get you to finally do that. plus, what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him, right ?

“come in.” you usher him inside quickly before anyone sees, shutting the door behind you with your foot.

once he fully walked through the door, your arms immediately swung around his neck, unable to hold back anymore. you missed him more than anything, you missed holding him, seeing him, been craving his touch all day, everyday; which is why you decided to cut the ‘date’ you had with your boyfriend short today. you came up with some lame excuse, saying how you weren’t feeling well and needed to go home. he looked as though he didn’t believe you but he let you leave anyway, hoping that you’d feel better and to text him once you got back home. spoiler: you didn’t.

this has been going on for a couple months now, no one knows of this clandestine relationship, not even your closest of friends and you’d like to keep it that way. it’s a horrible thing to say but you don’t necessarily feel any remorse or guilt for what you’re doing at all, if anything you like the thrill of it. sunghoon made you feel things that you’ve never felt before, he was everything that your boyfriend wasn’t and that’s what drew you in the minute you two met.

“missed you..” you muffle into his shirt that were clinging on, basking in the rich scent of his expensive cologne, your favorite one to be exact.

“i missed you so much more baby,” he shamelessly confessed, not caring if it comes off clingy. “couldn’t have you all this week so i’m gonna have you now,” he continued, “been dying to have a taste of these lips again.” he engulfed you even tighter, lifting your head up to lean in and kiss you for the first time tonight.

๑ ๑ ๑

“god.. you’re so fucking pretty.” sunghoon whispers against your skin, peppering kisses along your jaw, sinking down towards your neck. his hands roam everywhere, exploring every inch of you. god, how you’ve missed this feeling so. so. much.

he finally had you right where he wanted, he’s been wanting this for days, thirsting for you all week; and now that he has it you he wasn’t just gonna let you slip away so easily. you let his arms lift your sweater over your head, aching to kiss below the collarbone. his hands cupped your ass, lifting you up from the couch as he carries you to your room, settling you down onto the bed.

“so gorgeous baby.. ”

his eyes danced around your bare upper body, down to your soft, round thighs, to your legs.. admiring your curvy figure. it’s like you were sculptured to perfection; he’ll never not be obsessed with you. an angel that’s descended from heaven is what you are to him. you knew his words had an affect on you, you felt it, he had you dripping for him just from his compliments alone.

his large hands caressed your breasts while his thumb teased your nipple, feeling it stiffen the minute he comes in contact with it. you held your breath for a second, feeling hypersensitive from not being touched in so long. the reactions you had as he did so was enough to make his boxers tighten under his sweats. he needed you more than the oxygen that pervades his lungs, if he could live in this moment forever — he would without even thinking.

when his index and thumb twisted your hardened nip, the moan you let out was hoarse.. broken.. you couldn’t believe you hadn’t felt his touch for almost a week. seemed like an impossible task in hindsight. sunghoon coated his saliva around the base of your nipple, his arm sliding down your body to cup your wetness.

“my precious girl,” he let out a low chuckle, feeling how soaked you were through your thin pajama shorts.

“so wet for me, huh, so needy for me?” he teases you with his fingers, tracing everywhere but your clit.

you squirmed underneath him, grasping onto your pink bedsheets. oh, how you so badly missed his dirty talk.. it looked so good on him. you buck your needy hips up against his hand, wanting to feel more of him as much as you possibly can.

“hmm..fuck..” you gasped, making him chuckle at you again. his hands shift to your waistband yanking them down as they hung to your feet.

“spread.” you didn’t even hesitate for him, your legs shot open. your hand held under your thigh, keeping it open so sunghoon could get a glimpse of your pretty glistening cunt. he stood between your legs, spreading apart your folds as if he were inspecting you.

“mm.. hoon.. please hurry i want your fingers..” you moaned, he spared a glance at your sparkling eyes before complying.

he simply hums at your eagerness, “then i shouldn’t keep my girl waiting, should i ?..” his fingers hid themselves in your weeping hole slowly while he eyed you, drinking up your features.

you felt his fingers trace the inside of your cunt making your face contort messily, your bottom lip held captive by your upper teeth.

“uhhuh, you like that right baby, you missed this ?” he thrusted his digits in and out of you at a pace that kept gradually fastening.

you had no intention on responding, it’d only be a waste of breath. especially when he knew you already liked it. your moans filled the room beautifully.

“fuck, you’re so good for me.. gonna ruin this pretty pussy.” he’d been fingering you into oblivion as his hidden digits thrusted into you, his thumb ran circles around your blushing clit.

“hah, yes ! yes, baby ! i’m coming!..” your shaky hand held onto his wrist. hips bouncing themselves towards him, you exploded.. your juices coated his fingers and the sheets you’d rested on before you were called to taste euphoria.

“good girl, you took it so well for me.” he slapped your thigh, following it up by pulling his layers down, revealing his hard. he laced his fingers around the base, pumping hisself a few times before hovering over you, kissing your bruised, swollen lips from earlier.

your hands were quick to palm him, cupping his balls lightly squeezing them. “oh shit..baby,” he moaned against your skin before sitting you up and guiding you onto your feet.

“knees.” he said before you quickly dropped onto the floor.

he looks at you with eyes full of nothing but admiration and lust before brushing his pink tip against your lips. “open.” he orders once again, raising his brows at you. once you do as your told, he eased himself inside your sticky coated mouth.

at this moment you thought of nothing but pleasing him right, your hands gripped his thighs while your head bobbed slowly on his length. once you were comfortable you quickened yourself. you loved when he was all whiney, especially for you. his hands gripped your hair as he groaned your name, feeling him throbbing inside you.

“mhm.. hell yeah.. just like that for me princess.” he praised you, that moment causing you to squeeze your legs together.

you sucked him harder as your mouth slid off his tip, hands replacing it. your hand added a pressure your mouth couldn’t as you jerked him. his balls sat in your mouth and you suckled and licked until he couldn’t take it anymore

“shit !” he tapped your shoulder before lifting you up onto your feet once more. “all fours now, hurry up.” he groaned at you.

“but you didn't-” you felt his hand swash against your ass causing you to yelp and hurriedly get into position.

“good girl,” he wasted no time into pushing himself inside you, pounding into you as if this were the last time he’d see ever you. you felt your insides tickle everytime he caressed your G spot.

“fuck ! sunghoon, right there..” you pitched, having hold of the comforter for stability.

his middle finger caressed your asshole, taking some of your heats slick to use it as lube. once his finger was inside, your lower felt a dry pain, that was until you felt the pleasure rising from it. his grip on your waist tightened while he watches your ass move fluidly everytime he pushed inside you.

“such a obedient little cunt, isn't it.. so wet and needy for me. she loves this cock fucking her dumb, doesn't she?” he slapped your ass and he wasn’t planning on stopping until he saw handprints.

“trying to milk me aren’t you.. shit..” he hissed as he felt you clench around him.

your hand reaches down to your bud caressing it slowly, ready to reach your high again. “hmm, yes hoon, come on me, please !!”

sunghoon never turned you over so fast. he rubbed his shaft between your folds before bursting onto your smooth abdomen. the sound of you begging for him left him winded.

“fuck.. fuck.. y/n..you have no idea what you do to me..” he went down on you drinking you all up, cleaning you out. “taste so fucking good. who are you tasting so good for?..” he praised again.

“just for you hoonie, only you !” you whined out loudly, playing with the stickiness that caked on your stomach.

not long after, you yourself let out on him. he didn’t fail to drink you clean. he was so drunk off of you that anything you said would be gospel, he’d worship the ground you walked on, whatever you wanted you’d get it in a heartbeat.

he comes up to cup your face, kissing you practically everywhere, your forehead, your eyelids, your cheeks, nose, mouth, neck— he made sure not to miss a single spot. just wants to show all his appreciation for you. he’ll never meet another girl like you, to him you were irreplaceable. most would probably think of him as an idiot to stay with you, but he wouldn’t listen even if a million people told him.

he’ll wait for you if he has to, no matter what he isn’t going anywhere. for now he’ll take what he can get, continuing to keep up this façade as though you’re just “friends” to the outside world, but clearly it’s so much more than that. sunghoon didn’t mind that he was your dirty little secret, he would continue to play along for as long as you needed. or, he’ll just keep fucking you into submission until you finally give in, until you won’t even want to think of another man’s hands touching you the same way his does.

[some-bunniii]

Lucifer protecting an artist reader

・❥ You left the hotel that day to go shopping, and you came back with blood splattered across your clothes

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |

x: 13k words?!! this is why the wait was long y’all 😭😭 i spoil you too much

Warnings: Swearing, violence, blood, SMUT!!

“Uno!” 

“Damnit, Husk! Why’d you got to do me like that for?!” Angel Dust hissed, clenching the cards in his hand tightly as he stared at the freshly placed ‘Wild +4’ on the table in front of him.

“You askin’ a gambler to play a game of cards and still expect princess treatment? Please.” Husk rolled his eyes before taking a sip from his glass of brandy. 

“I know your games, Kitty. You could’a played that on Charlie when the order was reversed but saved it just for me didn’t ya?”

“Whatever you say, the color is green anyway.” 

Angel Dust huffed in annoyance as he placed the extra cards in his deck, muttering something under his breath. Besides him, Vaggie placed down a green card of her own, her eyes squinted with a look of concentration, calculating her next move. 

You were sitting a few chairs over, on the other side of the table. Besides you was Charlie, leaned back in her chair, only three cards left in her hand. She would be the last person to go before it was Husk’s turn once more. 

When they had invited you to play some cards, you were expecting something like Blackjack or Poker, not UNO. 

You were shocked they even had something like this in Hell, but in truth, it could become a very bloodthirsty game rather quickly. Not to mention, it was a cult classic, and it made sense for even the residents of such a place to still hold nostalgia for it even after their death.

Charlie had proclaimed it was a great bonding session while also helping to teach valuable skills like patience and communication. As being part of the staff, it was mandatory for you.

It had only been a few days since Lucifer kissed you on that rooftop, and your cheeks still heated everytime you thought about it.

Looking back down at the cards in your hand, you analyzed your possible moves. You had a good amount of cards still left in your deck, but the one you had been eyeballing was a green ‘+2’. Maybe that single card could help turn the tides, and someone other than Husk would win for once.

The spot besides Vaggie was empty, a small hand of cards laid face-down on the table in front of the chair. It was Sir. Pentious’ turn, but he was nowhere in sight. 

“How long has Snake Boy been in the bathroom? Somebody better go check up on him.” 

“Give him a few more minutes, I think it was the Mexican we had earlier coming back to haunt him.”

“Well if he doesn’t hurry, we’re gonna replace him with Niff.”

You ignored the other’s conversation, instead pivoting slightly in Charlie’s direction. You had a plan, but it would only work with the assistance of the demon princess.

“Pssst, Charlie!” You whispered, using a hand to shield your words from the rest of the players.

“Yes?” She inquired, leaning closer to you. KeeKee lifted her head from Charlie’s lap, and you gave her a quick scratch between her ears.

“Do you have a ‘+2’?” 

“Maybeeee,” Charlie answered, her eyes scanning her cards before landing back on you, “Why?” 

“If I put one of mine down, stack it with yours. That way Husk gets four!” 

Charlie looked over at Husk, who was sitting with his chest puffed, and a single card in his paws as he eyed the winners pot. Which was a couple of mints, a large candy bar, three dollars, and a coupon for a discount on movie tickets. 

There was a bag of a mysterious white powder in the mix that Angel Dust had placed earlier, but it was gone now. You assumed that Charlie had probably swiped it so she could burn it later.

Charlie turned back to you, her mouth downturned.

“But that’s so meannnn,” She whimpered, her eyes glistening, “Husk has worked so hard to get down to that!”

“It’s UNO, Charlie! It’s not a game for the weak. Husk only has one card and I swear if you let him win, i’ll- i’ll… I won’t paint your nails tonight!” 

Charlie grimaced, grief written across her face as she contemplated the incredibly tough decision she had to make. 

“Hey, you two stop plotting over there!” Vaggie glared in your direction, her arms crossed  “Pretty sure that counts as cheating!” 

“We were just talking about the weather!” Charlie quickly responded, before nervously biting her lip. 

It was then Sir. Pentious arrived, apologizing profusely before returning to his seat and picking his deck back up. He analyzed his cards for a moment, before quickly placing down another green. 

‘Damnit’, you cursed internally, ‘The color hasn’t changed, now it’s really up to Charlie.’

It was finally your turn, and slowly pulling out the ‘+2’ from your hand, you placed it on the table. You hit Charlie with a hard stare, silently threatening her with the loss of a manicure.

You two had been spending more time together recently, ever since she appeared at your friend’s art studio, leaving you to wrangle in a practically nude Lucifer for the duration of your class. 

After that, you were no longer worried about whether Charlie was unsupportive of your relationship with Lucifer. It was clear she wanted the best for her father, and his mood had been improving with you around.

Sometimes, while you were sketching out new ideas for your next project, she’d knock quietly at your door, asking for your assistance in matters pertaining to the rest of the residents in the hotel.

“I just wish Angel Dust would try harder to drop the heavy drugs,” She had moaned to you one day, sitting on your bed as she clutched a stuffed animal of yours to her chest, “I mean the drinking? Whatever, for now. I’m sure those in Heaven probably do the same. But, Cocaine?” 

She exhaled a large breath and averted her gaze, her lips pursed as she continued.

“I messed up big time when I tried to put my foot down for his sake back at the filming studio. Now i’m just.. scared to say anything about it, I don’t want to re-ignite any fire between us.”

You had nodded along while listening to her words, your fingers tapping against the wooden easel as you contemplated.

“Maybe you should try sitting him down and having a heart-to-heart with him?” You suggested gently, putting down your pencil.

“Express your concerns and offer your support. With the business he’s in and the.. culture that surrounds it, I have no doubt those closest to him are only continuing to perpetuate his, erm, activities.”

She regarded your words for a moment, staring down at her shoes as she let that sink in. 

“You could even take it a step farther and invite him to different groups or classes. There are many places around the city that do things like pottery, poetry, even shitty horse riding lessons. Maybe if he found something of interest, it would help in replacing those bad habits.”

Slowly, Charlie’s head started to nod, and she met your gaze with fresh determination.

“You’re right! It’s time for me to step up and be his support beam. If I can’t get him to make better choices, then what’s the point of the hotel? I’m sure the others will agree to help!” 

She crossed the room, and gave you a large bear hug. She squeezed the breath out of your lungs, but you only returned the hug, eager to show her your support.

Quickly, like she had done something wrong, she pulled her arms back to her sides and stepped back, creating a gap between the two of you. Nervously, she twisted a piece of her hair around her finger and bit her lip. 

“To be honest, I really enjoy talking to you about this kind of stuff. You just have this aura that makes me want to spill all my secrets, just like I used to with my mom...”

Those last few words that left Charlie’s lips were in a whisper. Your eyes widened at that. Did she regard you as a semi-parental figure now that you’ve slowly slipped into the Morningstar family? 

Her mother was a tough subject for her, since she had no idea where Lilith had scurried off to during these last seven years. All she had was the dream that her mom had left in her absence, and the will to enlighten the lost souls of Hell.  

You never would imagine replacing Lilith, for either Charlie or Lucifer. She was the Queen of Hell, their rock during the beginning of Hell’s creation. It was only natural she still held a piece of their hearts.

Slowly, you reached out, and gingerly took her hand. You squeezed it, a silent gesture of comfort.

“I’m just glad I can be your support beam,” You had conceded, “you’re doing such a great job with the hotel. Your ideas deserve to be heard, deserve to be tried. I’m really proud of you for taking such a large step, and i’m glad to be along for the journey with you.” 

It was then that Charlie’s breath hitched, her cheeks turned a faint shade of red, and her eyes began to glisten. 

You rushed forward quickly as her lips began to quiver, and pulled her into another warm embrace. She melted into it, leaning into your chest as you heard quiet sniffles originating from the princess.

“That is just so refreshing to hear, you have no idea.” She answered after a moment, before standing up straight and taking a step back. Rubbing the short trail of tears away, she sent you a warm smile before waving farewell and disappearing out of your room.

Days like that continued, where she’d ask for your advice or share the latest gossip around the hotel. 

“Jesus, Charlie. What’s got you so twisted? Play a card!” Angel Dust’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. Blinking a few times, you twisted your head in Charlie’s direction to see what the fuss was about.

She sat there in her chair, the cards slightly trembling in her hands, as she was faced with an uncomfortable decision. You swore you saw a bead of sweat trickle down her forehead, like she was deciding the fate of Husk’s life instead of the number of cards in his paws.

“I.. I just- Oh! I just can’t do it!” Charlie sobbed, before hastily pulling two more cards into her hand from the small deck on the table.

You groaned, slapping a hand to your forehead. Damnit, you should have known better. 

There was a chorus of groans intermixed with yours as Husker let out a loud, boisterous laugh. Slamming his final card on the table, he quickly reached out and pulled the winner’s pot towards him. 

He plucked out a mint with his claws before throwing it in his mouth, sucking on it loudly, letting everyone hear the tastes of victory.

“Yeah, yeah. Y’dont gotta rub it in.” Angel Dust muttered, before standing up and stretching his arms. After a few pops of his joints, he sighed, pulling out his phone. He grimaced as he read the words on the screen.

“It looks like Val needs me in the studio, I better run.” 

The group of friends began to clean up the table, shuffling cards before placing the deck back into the small box. Watching him leave, a pang of sympathy hit you. You couldn’t imagine being stuck in a contract, let alone as volatile as his.

You didn’t miss the mirrored look Husk gave as he too watched Angel Dust walk through the doors.

Rising from your seat, you stepped away from the group. Checking the clock, you realized you still had enough time to go on your resupply run before it got too dark out. You had your money on you already, so it was just a matter of writing up a quick list and walking out the door. 

Walking up to the front desk right next to the hotel entrance, you rummaged through the drawers before pulling out a small notepad. 

Placing it on the desk, you reached over and grabbed the pen from its respective holder. You began scribbling down different items you needed to gather:

Acrylic paint

Cleaning sponge

Extra palette knife 

Laundry detergent

Catnip 

Nail poli-

“Greetingsss!”

You jumped, the pen you were holding clattering back onto the desk. Spinning, your eyes land on the tall snake-demon resident, his fangs extended in an imitation of a smile.

“Sir. Pentious! You can’t sneak up on me like that!.” You exclaimed, exhaling a large breath to calm your nerves. 

His hood drooped slightly, guilt crossed his face at your fright. 

“Oh dear, i’m terribly sssorry! I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to speak to you, only for a moment.”

You perked at his words. You didn’t know much about Sir. Pentious, he rarely had the courage to have a full conversation with you. He reminded you more of a mouse, then a snake. Always very polite, careful not to push others' buttons, and with a bit of anxiety. It humored you that he used to be a bad person, he was so sweet!

“Of course! What is it you need?” 

“Well..” He started, rubbing his hands in a self-soothing motion, “There is ssomeone I would like to pursue romantically, and, well, I wasss hoping you could help me in courting her?” 

“Oh, well- I’d love to but I'm not exactly qualified for that.” You laughed, surprise written on your face. That was not what you were expecting him to ask. 

“Of courssse you are! You managed to establish an intimate relationsship with His Majesty, the ruler of Hell!”

Your eyes widened. That’s why he wants your opinion? Sure, you did manage to bag the most powerful being in the realm. Someone regarded as cold and narcissistic by outsiders, but not to you. He was more than just his power and his fame when it came to what you loved about the fallen angel.

“Well, yes. That’s definitely true. But, it wasn’t really the conventional way. Lucifer is a.. colorful character.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Remember that art class I hosted a few months ago? Yeah, he was laying practically butt-naked on a couch in front of me the entire duration.”

“Oh dear.. perhapss you are right.” 

You contemplated his question, though. There had to be something you could give him that would help. Perhaps, to gift her something unique. That would prove his interest.

“Well.. what does she like?” 

“Pardon?” 

“Does she have any hobbies or interests? You are a very talented inventor, and some people really enjoy hand-made gifts. That tells them you care about them enough that you’ll sweat a little to make them happy!”

“Oh, why yesss! She is interested in blowing things up with her grenades!” Sir. Pentious squinted in concentration as he considered your words. His eyes widened as a lightbulb went off in his head.

“Thatsss it! I will design her grenades that do a better job at blowing stuff up!”

“Okay, I wasn’t really thinking tha-”

“Oh, thank you! You are such a good lissstener, I must come to you more often for advice!” Sir. Pentious took your hand in glee, shaking it vigorously as he continued, “I will ssstart working on it right away! She will be head over heels for me now!” 

You smiled warmly at him as he spoke. Though you weren’t expecting him to choose a dangerous weapon as a gift for whoever he was trying to court, at least you managed to help him in his endeavor.

“I’m happy you’ve found a solution! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go do some shopping.” You turned away from him slightly, scribbling down the remaining item on the notepad.

“Oh, what are you getting?” 

“Just some art supplies and a few other minuscule items over on the East Side,” you responded, “I should be back in a couple of hours.”

“Oh, my! It’sss getting very dangerous over there recently! Are you sure you want to go?” 

You lifted your head at his words. That side of the city was dangerous now? Isn’t that where Angel Dust’s studio is? 

“What do you mean, Sir. Pentious?”

“A large group of thugs have moved in, causing all sssorts of chaos! It’s not safe to go out alone in that area right now..”

You pondered his words. You didn’t regard yourself as a master of any kind of combat, and you weren't exactly afraid of the mention of gang-members, but, gang-members from Hell? Those were the worst of the worst. 

It’s not like you could ask anyone to join you. Alastor was who-knew-where, Sir. Pentious was going to some kind of annual inventor show soon, and Charlie and Vaggie were off for ‘date night’. You were pretty sure Husk was confined to the hotel unless someone with authority could give him the go. 

Lucifer was busy at some kind of meeting with the other six Deadly Sins. You never pried him on that part of his job, he hated going so you assumed he hated talking about it. He wouldn’t be done for awhile. 

‘Guess i’ll just wait fo-‘

“You ssshould take my Egg Bois!” Sir. Pentious’ words broke you out of your thoughts. Those little egg demons that followed him around everywhere? They were cute.. but could they really protect you?

“What?” 

“I cannot take them with me tonight, and they are trained for all kindsss of combat! They will protect you against any threat.”

“Oh, that’s really sweet of you, but I don’t know if-“ 

“Nonsssense! I insisst! A payment for helping me today.”

You bowed your head slightly in defeat. You weren’t too thrilled about having to babysit a bunch of eggs, but you trusted Sir. Pentious. If he said his boiz could protect you, then you’d believe it. 

“Alright, fine.”

✧༺🤍༻∞

“Your eyes are so pretty!” 

“Thank you.” 

“Uh, Not-Boss? I have to pee!” 

“That’s why I asked if you had to go before we left, Frank, now you’ll have to hold it in.”

“Can we stop for ice cream?” 

“After shopping.”

“Yay!”

It was only when you arrived at the East Side Market did you realize how badly you needed a car. That way, your ear wouldn’t have been talked off for so long. 

It wasn’t too bad, really. They were very obedient, never straying from your side as you traveled across the city. They told jokes that were so bad, you laughed at how much they made you cringe. They had very good manners too, always saying ‘Please’ and ‘Thank you’.

Just one more street to cross, before you’d be at the art supply shop. Your little group neared the busy intersection, the light still green for the cars that sped by. Halting at the curb, you looked down at the Egg Bois before addressing them.

“Alright, everyone. Let’s hold hands while we cross. Here, Frank, come over to the right and take my hand.”

Frank sidled up to you, reaching up to grab on to your pinky. His entire hand wrapped around the single digit, and you wondered how exactly these guys had black belts in martial arts. 

As the ‘Walk’ signal blinked, you strode across the road. Squeezing past other pedestrians as they walked besides you, your eyes always glancing down to make sure the bois were safe.

Walking past a few more shops, your feet rested in front of a large, pink building. A paintbrush and palette imprinted on its front door. Turning towards the Egg Bois, you bent down to address them.

“Alright, i’ll only be in there for a few minutes. Guard the door, please.” 

The cluster of eggs saluted you, their features serious.

“You got it, Not-Boss!” 

Giving them a quick farewell nod, you walked through the open door. Disappearing from their sight.

Inside, you zig-zagged through the aisles. Each was one specific to a different art form. There was a row that held webs of colorful yarn, and you saw shades you honestly didn’t even know existed. 

You reached the aisle containing the paint supplies, your hand skimming across the shelves as you searched for a palette knife. You needed a smaller sized one, that way your accuracy in texturing feathers would improve. 

Recently, you found your paintings were filled with more and more waterfowl and angels. It was a repetitive pattern that only refined your abilities on recreating such ethereal scapes.

Before, your work exhibited many sexual themes. It wasn’t that much of a bother, you were making good money and still doing what you loved. But, damn, did it get mundane. How many tits were you going to be forced to see in your lifetime? 

When Charlie welcomed you to the hotel, it was like a breath of fresh air. Finally, you could crack your knuckles to get your creative juices flowing. It really brought back a ton of nostalgia too, from your time living on Earth.

Placing a few more items into your basket as you walked, you began to head for the cashier. Hopefully, the Egg Bois were doing okay an-

Bzzt Bzzt

Your eyes shot to the phone in your possession. It vibrated softly as it buzzed, and you quickly reached for the phone. Someone was calling you. Without even looking at the name, you tapped the green button, and held the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” 

“Darling~” 

Your cheeks heated just hearing Lucifer’s voice on the other end, the familiar velvet tone like music to your ears. A smile formed on your lips as you stopped in your tracks.

“Hello, Handsome. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Just got done with that meeting with the Sins. Thank god.”

“Was it bad?”

“It was the usual. Satan can’t control his cowboys from causing trouble outside his Ring, and Leviathan just complains about everyone else getting special treatment,” Lucifer cleared his throat, before continuing, “so, I was wondering what you were up to. Working hard?” 

“I’m out shopping right now, actually.” You replied. You heard shuffling on the other end, like Lucifer had stood up.

“Oh, really? Let me guess.. your resupply run?” 

“Bingo.” You smiled. He was catching on to more and more of your routines as time went on. 

“Well,” His tone turned playful, you could practically hear the smirk on his lips, “lucky for you, i'm also out.”

“Really?” You questioned, with a raised eyebrow. 

“Yep, and actually-”

Lucifer’s voice turned to static, and you pulled the speaker an inch away from your ear. Was there a bad signal? You didn’t have enough time to think about that, before his voice returned crystal clear on the other end.

“-I think I see you right now!”

What?

“What?”

“Wow, is that a new outfit you’re wearing? It looks good!”

Slowly, you turned to the direction of the large storefront windows. Your eyes scanned the streets, looking for any signs of the fallen angel. It wasn’t until you scooted slightly over, to look past the large poster covering your view, did you spot the glint of pale blonde hair. 

Your mouth dropped. Standing across the street, looking directly at you, was Lucifer. He didn’t sport the usual overcoat and hat, instead he wore his casual red-and-white striped waistcoat, the sleeves of his undershirt rolled up to partially expose his forearms.

He also wore a pair of black sunglasses, which you found kind of odd. You’ve never seen him with any kind of eyewear before today. Noticing your gaze, he waved to you, slightly bouncing on his toes.

You quickly tapped your screen to end the call, rushing toward the check-out counter. You kept taking glances at Lucifer through the windows, your smile widening everytime your gaze traveled down his frame.

The cashier handed you the receipt, and you hurriedly ran out the door. You skidded to a halt at the curb, just as Lucifer crossed the street. He sidled up beside you, grinning warmly. 

“I’m really happy to see you, but aren’t you worried you’ll get, like, mobbed or something out here? It’s pretty busy today. Don’t most demons recognize you?” You asked.

Lucifer nodded his head, before tapping the sunglasses on his face. You wondered how they held to his face so well. Magic? 

“That’s what these are for, they mask my appearance to everyone but you. And, now that I mention it..” Lucifer trailed off, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pair of sunglasses, “here, I bought these for you.”

He extended his arm, holding the sunglasses towards you. Reaching out, you gingerly pull them from his grasp, turning them over in your hands. There are words etched into the side of one the arms, and your eyes widened as you read the brand.

“These are Ray-Burn sunglasses! How much did you spend on these?” You questioned him. Ray-Burn was a very high-end retailer, and they were a luxury you could never have afforded. Lucifer only shrugged, crossing his arms. 

“I didn’t check, I just thought they’d look great on you.” 

Heat creeped onto your cheeks at his response. Your finger caressing the glasses as you processed his words. You had been checking out this specific pair quite some time, they were stylish and bold. 

“A work of art,” You had joked to Lucifer once, “They always come out with such pretty designs, one day i’ll get my hands on one.”

He must have kept your promise for you, and that made your heart flutter. Except, for the fact he didn’t need to do that. You would have loved any pair if Lucifer was the one giving it to you. 

“Why didn’t you just make one, instead of spending money on me?” 

“Because, you were eyeing this specific pair. While I have no doubt one of my versions would have looked fantastic on you. I can’t argue with your choice of style. Now put those bad boys on.”

Carefully, you slipped them on your face. You adjusted them slightly, centering them before releasing your grip. You blinked, the light hitting your eyes was much softer now, which was actually quite refreshing.

Lucifer whistled flirtatiously at you, “You look ravishing. Now, what about me?” 

He twisted his body and lifted his head up, posing like he was a cover girl in a magazine.  Puckering his lips, he lifted his brows at you. Waiting for your response.

Stupidly gorgeous, you thought, ogling him. 

“Perfect.”

“That’s right.” He agreed, nodding his head.

It was then that five eggs rolled into view. They bounced into one another, before standing on their legs. They looked up at you, before saluting.

Lucifer recoiled at the sight of them, stepping behind you slightly. 

“What the hell are those things?” He whispered in your ear. 

“My bodyguards!” You proclaimed with a smirk, pivoting to face him. Placing your hands on your hips, you eyed your temporary entourage.

“Ohhhh, I get it. Paint a few portraits and suddenly your top dog, hm?”

“Obviously. The Envy Ring has eyes on me 24/7.” You tried to hold in a laugh.

Lucifer smiled, before pulling you besides him. “Well, it’s a good thing I have you all to myself now.” 

He leaned forward, lips puckered for a kiss. Eyes widening, you quickly slapped a hand over his mouth, side-eyeing the multiple onlookers.

“Not in front of the little guys, they're too young to fill their heads with such things.” 

You felt air hit your palm as he sighed at your response, before pulling away. He turned his head toward the Egg Bois with a slight glare, and Frank walked forward. 

“Is this guy bothering you, Not-Boss? Want us to rough him up for you?” He raised his fists, giving the air a quick punch to display his combat prowess.

“Excuse me?” Lucifer raised an eyebrow. You realized he was probably not used to lower demons like the Egg Bois speaking to him in such a manner. Even in a disguise.

“I don’t think he knows he’s talking to the big bad boss of Hell.” you teased, amusement glinting in your eyes. 

Frank’s eyes widened, he jumped back. It made both you and Lucifer reel back in surprise at the egg’s frightened reaction.

“Boss of Hell? You mean like Lucifer?!”

The Egg Bois behind him looked amongst themselves, fear flickering across their face. They whispered to each other, you could only make out a few words like ‘kill’ and ‘torture’.

“Haven’t you heard?” Frank continued, “He steals souls and drinks the blood of babies!”

“Oh, he does more than just that,” Lucifer started, stalking toward the egg-demon menacingly, “he roasts them alive to eat, and anyone of similar size!” 

The egg boi trembled, his little legs starting to shake as he listened to Lucifer’s words.

“Oh, golly..” He whispered with a quivering lip. 

Sending Lucifer a glare, you not-so-gently elbowed him in the side.

“What are you doing?” You whispered. Was he trying to make the little guy crack?

“Just keeping up my image, can’t have anyone thinking the almighty ruler of Hell fancies taking his lover for strolls down the markets!” 

You shot him another glare and Lucifer sent an apologetic smile. He slowly knelt down to Frank’s height, patting him on the top of his shell. “Don’t worry, little guy. I heard he prefers pancakes over scrambled eggs.”

Frank’s frown waned a tiny bit, his legs stilled as the panic subsided. The other eggs behind him visibly relaxed as well.

“And, who could ever eat a wittle adowable face like yours,” Lucifer cooed sweetly, rubbing the sides of Frank’s shell like he was trying to squeeze his cheeks, who giggled at the touch. Lucifer stood up, a smirk gracing his lips.

“Well, now that I'm here. That means you don’t need any bodyguards. Say goodbye!” He turned to you, snapping his fingers. Your eyes widened as the Egg Bois vanished in a flash of golden waves. You felt bad you didn’t get to say goodbye.

“You know, I did promise them ice cream.”

Lucifer waved his hand in a brushing motion, “we’ll stop and get them some on the way back.” 

You both continued to walk down the street, glancing into different shops as you set your eyes on something unique. Lucifer filled the time by continuing his rant of the other Sins. You listened intently, your knowledge of other powerful demons— apart from alastor, wasn’t very vast. He also mentioned wanting to find a gift for Charlie, and that got you scanning every display window on the street.

It wasn’t until the two of you stopped at a storefront and peeked through the glass display did you see something of interest. Across the hidden barrier, was a mannequin with feminine features, sporting a rather stunning red tuxedo with gold lapels. 

“I think Charlie would like that,” You smiled, turning to Lucifer, “she was mentioning a need for a wardrobe upgrade, and it would show you care about her passion with the hotel since she’d wear it for work.”

Lucifer pondered your words for a moment. He cared about his daughter deeply, but his relationship with her was still in the works. Her interests were still foreign to him, and he struggled with coming up with gifts for her, despite acts of service being his love language. Slowly, he nodded.

“What size does she wear? Oh, I guess it doesn’t matter. I can just adjust it for her. Are you coming in?” 

“I’ll wait out here, see if there’s anywhere else we can stop.” You replied. Lucifer nodded, before pulling open the front door and slipping inside. 

You turned, scooching as close to the wall as to not impede on the flow of pedestrian traffic. Your eyes scanned the other stores. Wait, didn’t you still need nail polish? What stores around here would sell tha-

Bzzt Bzzt

Your phone vibrated again. Raising your eyebrows, you checked the name this time. The words on the phone read ‘Charlie’ and you quickly answered it. 

“Hello?”

“Hi! I’m sorry to bother you, but are you still shopping?” Charlie asked, her tone strange to you. Worried, perhaps. 

“Yes, I am. I’m almost done though, why, what’s up?”

“It’s Angel Dust,” She spoke quickly, “the last time I talked to him he stopped at a bar at the edge of the East Side Market hours ago, and now he won’t answer any of my messages. I’m just worried about him.” 

“Well, I’m at the East Side Market now. I can check up on him, if you want, maybe even drag him back to the hotel.” 

“Really?” Charlie said, her tone lifting at your words, “Oh, thank you! That would be great, please let me know what happens..”

You promised her you would, before hanging up. Just as you set the phone down, Lucifer exited the store. He held a large pink bag in his hands as he strolled towards you.

“Alright, where to next?” 

You turned to him, arms crossed. “Angel Dust is somewhere around here no doubt blackout drunk, and I have to go make sure he’s okay. It’s the club right down the street here, will you come with me?”

Sensing the urgency in your tone, Lucifer nodded. He laced your fingers with his before speaking, “if that’s what you want, of course.”

Quickly, you pulled him down the street. A large, dark building came into view. To be honest, if the figure of a stripper wasn’t etched into its sign, you wouldn’t have guessed it was a club. It looked like a run down industrial building, but the heavy vibrations from the music inside told you otherwise. A large crowd of people were standing up front, some held cigarettes or beers in their hands as they chatted waiting to enter. You couldn’t see a bouncer, maybe it was going to be easier than you thought to get in.

“I think this time, it’s your turn to go in alone,” Lucifer stopped at the doors, turning to you, “this crowd is a little too big for my liking..”

“That’s fine. I shouldn’t be long, i’ll be down here in a few minutes.” Your lips brushed his cheek before you reluctantly pulled your hand from his grip. Maneuvering through the crowd, trying not to bump into too many stumbling drunks, you stopped at the door. With a quick glance at your surroundings and Lucifer, you pulled open the large door and slipped inside.

Flashing multi-color lights hit your eyes as they lit up your frame from the other end of the dark hallway. Shadowy figures passed your peripheral vision as they danced. Round tables were stacked with empty drinks, with groups of partiers standing around them as they chatted and laughed.

The music was loud too, drowning out your thoughts so all that was left was the single mission: Find Angel Dust.

Quickly, you crossed the room, your feet stopping at the bar. You turned your head, scanning for any signs of bright pink fuzz. You found none, and your eyes instead landed on a staircase. There were multiple floors to this place? Hopefully, Angel Dust wouldn’t be far away.

A man at the bar winked at you, and you quickly turned away, hurriedly making your way to the stairs. You lept over multiple steps, until your feet touched a hard, wood floor. This area was definitely built for those that wanted to forget whatever shitty day they had come from. 

Strippers danced around large poles on top of platforms connected to each corner of the room. A wall lined with doors, labeled rather indiscreetly as ‘sex’ rooms, caught your eye. He couldn’t be in there, could he? 

“Y’know, my fur gets pinker the more you touch, toots. Ever seen a spider change color?” 

Your head snapped to that familiar voice. Angel Dust leaned against a wall, near the open doors of a large balcony. It was a dark corner of the room, and you would have missed it if not for hearing his voice. He looked really drunk, and you contemplated whether you were actually going to be able to get him out of here. There were multiple large demons around him, leaned in as they listened to Angel talk. They kept glancing at each other, before turning their attention back to the spider-demon. 

You didn’t like the look of them, their faces weren’t friendly and the scars across their skin made you nervous. It wasn’t until one adjusted their position slightly, did you see the gleam of a small dagger attached to their waist belt. You tensed, were these the thugs Sir. Pentious had mentioned? 

“Why don’t you let us take you somewhere nice. eh?” One of them started, scooching closer to Angel Dust, “get some more drinks in your system, relax, whatcha say?” 

You didn’t like where the conversation was going as you eavesdropped. You hurriedly crossed the room, throwing your hands up in the air as you walked towards them.

“Angel! There you are, i’ve been looking all over for you.” 

“Hot cakesss,” Angel Dust slurred in surprise as he turned away from the men and met your eyes, “What are you doing here? This ain’t your type’a place.”

“That’s because i’m here to get you home, buddy. Come on, you’ve had a rough day, doesn’t a warm bed sound nice?”

Angel nodded to that, before turning away from the group of feral-eyed men. He held a small shot glass in his hand as he stumbled up to you, holding it out for you to take. 

“Hereee, have a drink.” 

You shook your head, “No, I shouldn’t, we need to-“

“Cmonnn Hot Cakes, we’re at a club! I ain’t going until you drink.” 

You eyed him, before your gaze snapped to the liquor in his hand. That’s right, it was Angel Dust you were trying to drag home. You knew it wasn’t going to be easy, especially with the fact he was almost eight feet tall. With a sigh, you took the shot glass and lifted it to your lips. You threw your head back, downing the contents in one go.

It burned as it traveled down your throat, but slowly, the flavor hit your senses, and you blinked your eyes. You felt.. different, already. You looked at Angel, before setting the glass down on a nearby table. “This was actually kinda good, what is it?” 

“Amrita.”

“What?”

“A sex potion. Y’know, makes your juicy parts tingle, and gets ya craving for a strong man to come satisfy your desires. It works, I promise.” 

Your mouth opened, and then it closed. No way did Angel Dust just give you a libido booster. You put a hand to your forehead, squeezing your eyes shut. Was one shot going to do much? Were you going to become a mess right next to Angel? Fuck, you should have resisted that temptation. 

You wrapped your fingers around Angel’s forearm, pulling him towards the staircase. “Let’s go, Angel, we don’t have time for games.”

He wasn’t able to take a step forward before one of the large onlookers pushed forward between the two of you. His head and body resembled that of a Great White Shark. His cold eyes sent a shiver down your spine, and you took a step back to widen the distance.

“Where are you two heading off to in such a hurry? You interrupted us earlier, friend. Us and the spider were just chatting about him joining us for the night. Isn’t that right?” The man turned to Angel, who only nodded absentmindedly. He mumbled something about never having any ‘real’ fun, whatever that meant.

“My friend here is too drunk to make any kind of decisions by himself,” You replied sternly, hoping your nerves weren’t trickling into your voice, “He needs to go home and rest, now if you’ll excuse me..”  

The man put a hand up as you moved forward, halting you in your tracks. “Your friend here is a big boy. He can make his own choices, and he chose to come with us.” 

You shot him a glare, before looking past him to see the group of demons slowly converge on Angel, who was looking at you with a mixed expression. As if actually deliberating whether to take your hand and leave this noisy place.

“Ow! Watch it, meathead!” Angel snapped as one roughly grabbed his wrist. Pulling him away from you, towards a closed door on the other end of the room.

In a flit of rage at their man-handling, you surged forward, yanking at the thug’s wrist, trying to get him to release Angel. “Hey, let him go! I already told you-”

The words died in your throat as you felt rough hands wrap around your arms, and the sharp pain in your back as you were slammed into the wall. Your eyes snapped up, meeting the shark-faced demon’s cruel gaze and he glared intently at you. 

“And I already told you he’s coming with us. Why don’t you take your little ass back downstairs to where the party is, before I make you.”

You struggled against his grip, but this guy was strong, and your strength was dwindling with every second you fought against him. “Let go of me!” You snapped.

“We should take them with us,” One of the thugs called from behind him as he pulled Angel farther away from you, “don’t want to risk them stirring up trouble.”

Your eyes widened in fear, and your gaze landed back on the demon locking you in place. He looked at his comrade, for a moment, before turning his head to face you. His lips upturned in a vicious grin. 

“Well, what do you think about that, Hot Cakes?” He asked, his grip still tight around your arms, “want to join us for a little fun? Come on, i’m sure you’ll like it. Especially with that drink in your system.” 

Oh no, this was bad. Really, bad. You had no chance against these guys, if only you could get Lucifer’s attention.. 

Suddenly, you were jerked forward, the man’s harsh grip dragging you along towards whatever lay beyond those sex rooms. You struggled, twisting in his grip. “Let go of me!” You begged. 

The heavy bass of the song as it spilled out of the loud-speakers only drowned out your cries. How the hell was everyone so drunk and caught up in their own world that they didn’t notice you being forcefully removed from the scene? The demon just ignored you, and as you crossed in front of the open doorway to the balcony, your breath quickened. Your arm reeled back instinctually, fueled by the adrenaline pumping through your veins. 

“I said, let me go!” You screamed, clocking the shark-faced demon right in the jaw. He reeled back, a curse falling from his lips. His head snapped down to you, before he closed the distance, his chest bumping with yours. You felt your feet lift off the ground for a moment as he shoved you backwards. Your back hit the railing of the balcony, and you stumbled for a moment, trying not to fall backwards. 

The demon pulled you forward by your top, his hot breath hitting your face. His eyes a darkened shade as he fumed before you. “You think you’re top shit, huh? Think you can hit me and get away with it?” He snarled. 

Slightly turning your head to look below you, you realized the balcony was facing the back of the club. There was no one in sight, but you could hear the faint noises from the crowd in the distance. Was Lucifer still at the front door, waiting for you?

Your heartbeat quickened as you locked eyes with him, slowly, you felt him push you forward. Your body leaning farther and farther over the railing, you struggled against him once more. The only thing keeping you from tumbling over was his steel grip on your top. A pang of regret flashed through your mind. Fuck, you were dead. 

“Enjoy your night, Hot Cakes.” He chuckled darkly, before his hand opened, releasing your clothing, and your balance faltered.

“No!” Angel Dust yelled from behind you, his eyes wide in fear as your body flipped over the railing. The man turned away from you, stalking back into the club. The balcony doors slamming shut behind him. You flailed helplessly, letting out a scream as you fell.

As you plummeted, panic surged through your veins, every instinct screaming for survival. The wind whipped past your ears, drowning out all other sound except for the pounding of your heart. In that terrifying moment of free fall, you wished desperately for something, anything, to save you from the impending impact.

At that moment, for the first time in your life, you prayed. You prayed that if not you, at least Angel Dust would make it out alive and unscathed. 

‘Please, don’t let Lucifer find my body’ You begged, as the ground rushed up to meet you.

Just as suddenly as the fall had begun, it halted. Your body jerked to a stop midair, suspended in an inexplicable stasis. Confusion clouded your mind as you blinked. What just happened?

A soft chuckle resonated beneath you, and slowly, you turned your head to see Lucifer. His eyes gleamed with amusement as he extended his arms, a subtle shimmer of golden magic enveloping your form.

With a gentle motion, he guided you down, easing your descent until you landed softly in his embrace. As you caught your breath, relief washed over you.

“When you told me you’d be down in a moment, I didn’t think that meant leaping off the second story.” Lucifer teased.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You buried your face in the crook of his shoulder, trembling slightly. If it wasn’t for him, you’d be a splatter on the ground. 

Inhaling his scent, you softened against him as that familiar smell of apple cinnamon and roses. Fuck, he smelled so good. Your face heating up as you breathed deeply, your thighs beginning to ache. Did he always smell so.. mouth-watering? It made you want to lean over and take a bite, would he taste as good too? He’d probably let you, if you aske-

Wait. What were you doing?! SAVE ANGEL. 

Your brain screamed at you, pulling you harshly back into reality. Was this that drink making you all mushy? Damn, it really was a potion. 

You shook your head, ridding yourself of the fog in your mind as you stared up at him. Quickly, scrambling out of his grip. You took his arm, a pleading look in your eyes.

“You need to help! Angel Dust is up there, and he got taken by a gang or something! They tried to take me too, but I fought back. The-they threw me off the balcony!” The words tumbled out of your mouth in one breath, the adrenaline still pumping through your veins. You couldn’t imagine what could be happening up there, you didn’t want to.

Lucifer frowned, and you swore you saw his pupils dilate behind the shades.

“Who threw you off the balcony?” He growled. 

“The men up there, come on, we need to hurry!” You turned, but not before you felt hands wrapping around your midsection. You heard soft rustling from behind you, and upon turning your head, took in the sight of Lucifer’s large wings extended widely.

“Let’s take the shortcut, hm?” He said, before you both were in the air with a single flap of his wings. You quickly looked around, what if someone saw him like this? It's not everyday a demon saw angel wings, and multiple of them for that matter. Hopefully, they’ll just blame it on their drunken stupor.

Lucifer lifted you up the railing, and you slowly maneuvered out of his grip, your feet hitting the metal landing. He gracefully lowered himself next to you, his wings furling before disappearing into his back. 

Slowly cracking the balcony door open, you both peeked from the doorway. Your head snapped to each side of the room, no Angel. You scanned the chairs situated around the stripper stages, no Angel. 

It wasn’t until your gaze landed on an adjacent room, near a hallway directly to your right, did your eyes narrow. 

“See those guys over there? That’s them. There are a lot more now though. I don’t know where they took Angel, he could be behind that door at the end of the hall.” You whispered to Lucifer, who’s gaze intensified as he analyzed the group.

Tip-toeing back into the building, you stopped short at the corner. Just around the bend, you’d come face to face with your attackers.

“I can take them, no sweat.” Lucifer replied, full confidence in his tone. You didn’t doubt it, but could he fight them without risking Angel Dust’s life? 

“Okay, but I need to check the other rooms,” You replied hurriedly, “There are multiple, um, private rooms up here. He could be in any of them. I need to find him, before it’s too late!” 

You were about to turn away before you felt Lucifer’s grip on your wrist, preventing you from moving. Your gaze met his, but you couldn’t see what he was feeling behind the shades masking his eyes. The slight tinge of fear laced in his voice gave you a clue, though.

“You should wait,” He spoke soft, but firmly, “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

You shook your head at him, your gaze scanning the large crowd, before turning back with panicked eyes.

“It’s Angel Dust who’ll get hurt if I don’t find him quickly.” Your breath quickening with every second not searching for your friend.

Leaning forward, you grazed his lips with a quick kiss, “I promise, i’ll be alright.”

He looked at you for another moment, as if contemplating whether to force you to stay in the safety of his presence. He didn’t though, instead letting out an exhale of breath.

“Fine. I’ll distract them for you then, and try not to make too big of a scene,” Lucifer adjusted his sunglasses, before continuing, “but, if I don’t see you back here in ten minutes, there won’t be a club to come back to.” He threatened.

You sent him a reassuring smile, his protective nature making your heart flutter. There was no time for swooning now, though, you had a spider-demon to save.

“Oh, and take this. You know how to use one of these, right?”

You looked down at the object in his other hand, your eyes widening at the sight of a small pistol.

“Enough.” Was your only answer as you took it from his grip, adjusting it between your fingers. You weren’t going to ask him where it came from, instead just sending him a silent thanks as you turned away.

Quickly, you slid your wrist out of his grip, and hurried off. Lucifer watched you leave, your form melting into the rest of the partierers on the dance floor.

His gaze lingered on the spot where you had disappeared, before he turned towards the group of demons across the room.

They stood in a huddle, snickering between themselves near the entrance to a mysterious back room. Lucifer cleared his throat, and their heads snapped to him.

The dark corner they were standing in partially masked their features, but that bloodthirsty glint in their eyes was unmistakable.

“So, tell me,” Lucifer began, no hint of emotion in his tone, “Which one of you douchebags has a kink for throwing people off of balconies?” 

“Who the fuck are you?” A tall, shark-faced man demanded harshly.

“Oh, you know…” Lucifer responded, a slight growl dripping from his voice, “Just a concerned citizen.” 

“If you don’t slither back to whatever shit-hole you came out of, Shorty, i’m gonna make sure your last memory is my dagger between your eyes!” 

“Oh, I’ll remember you, alright,” Lucifer chuckled darkly, rolling up his sleeves as he stalked forward, the tips of his horns protruding from his head, “As the latest bottom-feeder who thought he could fuck with the devil.” 

The group of demons regarded him with a confused expression for a moment, their gaze bouncing between each other in silent questioning. Unsure about the stranger’s lack of fear.

The shark-demon turned to face them, his frown deepening as he watched them stand there like children waiting for Mommy’s instruction. 

“Well? What the hell are you waiting for!? Kill him!” 

Brandishing their close-combat weapons, five demons charged at Lucifer. Their menacing frames towering over the smaller man.

“Finally,” Lucifer grinned wickedly, before rolling his shoulders, “Some fun!” 

Fingertips igniting with a golden flame, he surged forward, meeting the oncoming demons halfway. The closest one gripped their axe tightly, before pulling it behind them. In a blink of an eye, they swung their arms forward.

The axe sliced through the air, aimed right at Lucifer's throat. It didn’t connect, as he gracefully leaned backwards, pupils dilating as he watched the weapon whisk right above his hair.

“Missed me!” He yelled playfully, before dodging another swing of a blade. A throwing knife whizzed right past his ear as he evaded the attack. It hit the chest of a demon charging behind him, who fell with a loud thump, their body twitched for a moment, before stilling.

“Missed me again! Wow, you guys suck at this!”

“How is this guy so fast?!” One of the gang-members yelled incredulously, before chucking another throwing knife in Lucifer’s direction. 

He melted into the shadows of the room and the knife hit the opposite wall, embedding into the cracked paint. The group twisted their heads around the area, eyes scanning for the vanishing stranger.

“You look tired!” Lucifer grinned behind one of the thugs, who pivoted with a yelp of surprise at his appearance. The mace in their hand beginning to rise for an attack.

“Why don't you—” Lucifer snarled and reeled back an arm, an enclosed fist at the end of it. He swung it forward and it connected with the larger demon’s stomach, a strangled gasp escaping their lips.

“—Sit down!” 

With a flash of golden light, the demon shot backward. He flew through the air, his back smashing into the window on the opposite wall. He sailed right through it, letting out a shriek as he plummeted towards the ground. 

The scene halted for a moment. Multiple wide eyes snapping from Lucifer to the large, broken window that their comrade had just exited. Pieces of glass scattered across the room were the only remnants of the crime.

“Holy shit..” one muttered quietly in shock, fear etched onto his features. He dropped the weapon in his hand, and scurried off towards the staircase leading out of the club. 

“That’s called karma, bitch!” Lucifer laughed. He stood in the same position he had punched the guy, casually brushing off a few specks of dirt from his sleeves. Adjusting his sunglasses once more, he surveyed the rest of the demons.

“Who’s next?” he grinned. 

The gang-members exchanged nervous glances. Some withdrew a few steps, a few tightened their grip on their weapon with calculating glares. None made the first move.

“Alright then,” Lucifer hummed, “Guess i’ll just have to pick.” 

Snapping his fingers, a whip appeared in his hand. A long, thin wire coated in golden flames dragged across the floor. Scorch marks trailed behind as he slowly stalked forward. With another burst of magic, the room filled with thick, gray fog. To any demon that would walk into the room, they’d probably just think it was the fog machine acting up.

“Eeny..” He started.

Right as the bass dropped, and the floor vibrated beneath his feet, Lucifer cracked the whip. It shot forward, slashing one demon right in the throat. Blood spurted from the gash, and with a few gurgled screams, the demon face-planted onto the floor.

The room went into a panic, as the gang-members frantically searched for the way out of the dense fog. One ran straight into a wall, knocking him unconscious as he slid down the side of it.

“Meeny..”

The music drowned out the whip once more as it curled around the foot of a wolf-built demon, with a harsh tug, the demon clawed for something to grab before he was thrown out the now-broken window. He screams echoing in a mirrored symphony of the last.

“Miny..” 

The whip evaporated from Lucifer’s hand, as he charged an unsuspecting gang-member. They pivoted in his direction, right as he wrapped his hands around their throat. Golden tendrils seeped from under Lucifer’s sleeves, and curled tightly the demon’s neck. With a snap of his wrist, the thug’s head twisted an un-natural angle, and he fell backwards. 

Landing softly in front of the body, Lucifer’s eyes narrowed on the area in front of him. The fog cleared, and the only one left standing was the leader of the gang. His eyes were dark, his teeth bared as his gaze traveled across the broken bodies of his comrades. His rage was going to be the death of him. 

“I’m tired of this shit. Let’s finish this, Pipsqueak!” The Shark-demon roared. Reaching behind him, the gang leader carefully pulled a large, silver machete from the sheath strapped to his back. 

This one was rather different, though. It was laced with shimmering white etchings, that pooled at the tip of the blade. 

Angelic steel.

Lucifer only grinned widely at the sight. Before planting his feet firmly into the ground, the demon would regret thinking he had the upper hand. He should have ran when he had the chance. 

In a flash, Lucifer’s wings unfurled. Bathing the room in a red glow as the tips of his flight feathers grazed the opposite walls. The shark-demon’s eyes widened, his stance faltered for a moment, but the grip of the blade tightened.

“Moe.” Was all Lucifer uttered, and with a large beat of his wings, shot straight for the demon. With a battle cry, the leader raised the machete high, ready to slash at the fallen angel.

At the last second, Lucifer ducked, curling his wings around himself as he evaded the blade and slammed right into the shark’s chest. The heavy blow knocked the demon backwards, and the weapon flew from his grip. 

Reaching out an arm, Lucifer snatched it, turning it on its user. With a downward swipe, he planted the blade right into the fucker’s heart. The demon’s knees hit the floor, as blood dripped from his mouth, the life fading from his eyes.

“This is to make sure you keep your filthy hands off what doesn’t belong to you,” he snarled in the demon’s ear, “know you died simply because your mama’s manners never rubbed off on you.” 

Lucifer stood there for a moment, on the dead man’s corpse. His breath heavy as the thick scent of blood and pain filled his nostrils. He may have descended from the Heavens, but ruling a place like this for so long can really turn a guy feral when it comes to protecting the ones he loves most.

With his wings disappearing back into his frame, Lucifer turned towards the closed door. With a flick of his wrist, it slammed open, and he took a step inside. 

It was empty, stacks of cash laid strewn on the table before him. Bottles of empty liquor sat on the small bar across the room. It seemed like a hideout for the gang, but Lucifer deathly was aware of the silence. There was no Angel Dust, which meant..

A moment of panic overtook him as he backtracked out of the room, his eyes feverishly searching for you. Were you okay? Did they hurt you? It had been long enough, you should have been back by now. He bolted out of the hallway, pushing through the crowd of drunken partiers.

He needed to find you, before it was too late.

✧༺🤍༻∞

Your feet skidded to a halt in front of the first private room. The line of doors sat in an adjacent room to the dance floor, away from the prying eyes of club-goers. The sign on the door indicated it to you as it was occupied. You took a deep breath, before gripping the handle. 

You yanked open the door, taking in the unwanted sight of two demons naked on the bed. Their heads snapped up, eyes wide at your intrusion.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!!” You screamed to them, covering your eyes.

“It’s okay, Sugar. You can join us if you want!” One yelled at you flirtatiously. 

“No thanks!” You replied as you scurried away, your gaze already zone in on the next room. Jiggling the handle, you found it locked tightly.

You placed an ear to the door, straining for any sounds. Angel was in one of these rooms and you’d make sure he’d come out unscathed.

“Get the fuck off me, you murderer!” You heard a familiar, muffled voice yell behind the door.

Fear gripped at your heart as you recognized his cry. Your head whipped to the bar closest to you, searching for something you could use to break through. Besides the shelf of bottles was a fire extinguisher, bolted to the wall. 

You rushed forward, scanning the area for any signs of the bartender, before grasping the handle tightly. Using all your strength, you pulled it towards you. It snapped off its hinges and caused you to stumble backwards from the force, clutching it to your chest. 

Your head snapped back to the door and you crossed the room. You lifted the fire extinguisher above your head, and waited. Just as the beat dropped, and the speakers filled the room with deafening bass, you smashed the red canister against the handle.

It flew off, skidding across the floor. You dropped the extinguisher, before picking the pistol back up. Lifting your leg, you used all your strength to kick the door open, revealing the scene inside. The scene before you was chilling—Angel, bound to the bed with his clothes slightly torn, struggling against a demon holding him down. Without hesitation, you raised the pistol, aiming it at the demon's head.

"Let him go," you commanded, your voice trembling with fury and determination. 

The demon’s eyes widened at the weapon aimed at his face, before quickly reaching his hands in the air to surrender. “Let’s watch where you point that thing, now.” He joked darkly. 

"Get the fuck out." you snarled, your voice low and threatening. You weren’t sure whether you had the strength to actually pull the trigger, nor did you want to further traumatize Angel Dust.

The demon backed up to the wall slowly, tip-toeing around you as you turned on your heels to continue facing him, the gun never leaving it’s sight of the man. After reaching the door, he quickly fled with his tail between his legs. 

Breathing heavily, you rushed to Angel's side, helping him stand. "We need to get out of here," you said urgently, glancing around for any other threats. 

Angel Dust’s eyes widened at the sight of you, his mouth opened in shock. “I-I thought they killed you!” He sputtered, gripping your arms tightly as his hands came free from the bindings. He looked like he was about to burst into tears. 

It was then that another figure barreled into the room, eyes wide and panic in their voice as they called out for you. You turned sharply, gun drawn once more, aimed right at.. Lucifer’s face. This time without the sunglasses blocking those pretty eyes of his.

Your shaking hands loosened around the gun at the realization, and it dropped to the floor at your feet. 

You rushed forward, wrapping your arms around him. He was okay! Of course he was, but that didn’t mean your mind wasn’t racing with worry for his sake. It was the other way around too, as Lucifer returned the hug ten fold. You could feel his rapid breath against your neck as he melted slightly into you. The worry fading from his eyes, as he gave you once over for any injuries.

“About time, you dick!” Angel muttered besides you, rubbing his wrists where the rope marks were no doubt beginning to bruise beneath his fuzzy. He seemed offley sober now, unlike you, who’s mind was still a bit fuzzy from the Amrita. 

Releasing Lucifer slowly, you stood up, turning back to Angel Dust. He was relatively untouched, it seems you made it just in time.

“Those thugs are taken care of,” Lucifer began, his pupils still dilated to slits as he hissed out the words, “they won’t bother you anymore, although, i’d recommend you stay away from this place from now on.”

Angel Dust nodded besides you, “Y’dont gotta tell me twice. Now, how about we use some of that sick teleportation magic of yours and get the fuck outta here?” 

“That sounds really nice, right about now.” You breathed, a faint smiling appearing on your lips.

You turned towards Lucifer, but a shadowy figure behind him caught your attention. In the doorway, a demon bleeding profusely from his side glared daggers into Lucifer’s back. Raising an arm, you caught the sight of a silver-tipped pistol lifting to aim right at his head.

“Watch out!” You screamed. Instinctually, you shoved Lucifer aside, positioning yourself between the gun and your love. Lucifer’s head snapped in your direction, and his eyes widened as they turned a midnight-red.

“Wait, no-!”

Lucifer started, pulling you close to him, right as the thug pulled the trigger. You heard the sickly pop as the gun fired and squeezed your eyes shut. 

You saw a flash of golden light behind your eyelids, and felt your feet lifted off the ground. You felt a cool breeze hit your face, with the familiar feeling of floating midair. Were you being teleported?

Suddenly, your back hit the hardwood floor of your room in the hotel and your head bounced on the ground. Pain seared through your body as you landed harshly, and you were knocked unconscious. 

Lucifer’s face appeared before yours, his eyes searching for signs of life. His heart pounded in his chest as he stared down at your motionless form. Panic clawed at his insides, threatening to consume him entirely. He reached out trembling hands, fingers shaking as they brushed against your cheek, desperately searching for any hint of warmth. Did the bullet hit you? If it was truly an angelic weapon, there was no chance to save you.

"No," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. "Please, no."

Your eyes flew open, and you shot up from the ground, gasping. Taking in the sight of your atelier, with its canvases strewn across your room, you turned to face Lucifer. Relief flooded his entire being as he watched you awaken. 

A wide smile spread across his face, breaking through the darkness that had threatened to engulf him moments before. "You're alive," he breathed, his voice filled with an overwhelming sense of gratitude. He scanned your body for any blood or injury, and found none.

Without hesitation, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest as if afraid you might disappear if he let go. "I thought I lost you," he murmured, his voice trembling with emotion. "But you're here. You're safe."

“Angel Dust?” You asked hoarsely.

“Fine. I dropped him in the lobby.”

He held you for a moment longer, before pushing you back. Your breath hitched, watching him. His teeth were bared, his eyes still dark as he regarded you.

“What were you thinking? Trying to save me?”

“What was I supposed to do?! Let the bullet hit you?” 

“Yes!” He snapped, before he closed his eyes, and his features softened. He hung his head, averting his gaze. 

“Your life is much more important than a few holes in my body. I would gladly lay down my life for you or Charlie, I don’t care about the circumstances.”

You wanted to retort, tell him how stupid he is for saying such things. Instead, you sidled up to him. Your knees gently grazed his own, and you took his hand.

“And what about you, hm? Do you think your wellbeing doesn’t matter? You may be a super powerful fallen angel, but you’re still my super powerful angel. You can’t just run off and die and think nobody is going to care.”

Lucifer hummed softly, his head tilting at your words. A smile formed on his lips as he listened. He hadn’t heard anyone speak to him like that in a very long time.

You took in the sight of the most powerful being in the realm. His hair disheveled with sweat beading down his forehead, as the soft red glow from the window lit up his features. You sat there, drinking in his presence. He looked absolutely beautiful, breathtaking even. Watching him practically come apart at the very thought of seeing your lifeless body, it awakened something in you. The driving urge to claim him, once and for all. To make him yours, forever. 

The thought of him defending you, in a way no one ever has before, made you horny. A primitive urge that’s sat dormant since you were first born. 

Is this how the lioness on TV felt when she watched her man tear into a pack of hyenas to protect her and her cubs? Maybe, you were finally understanding it.

Perhaps it was the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, or that damn drink playing with your head, but the heat that slowly crept from between your thighs was unmistakable.

You wanted him so fucking badly.

“What?” Lucifer’s eyes snapped up to you, surprise written on his face.

Shit, did he hear that?

“.. I want you, Lucifer,” You whispered, “I want your heart, your mind.. and your body.”

He tensed, and you hoped he understood what you were implying. But it wasn’t long before you felt strong hands pushing you backwards. You laid back slightly, using your arms to support your upper body. Lucifer kneeled in front of you, his pupils practically invisible as he pulled off his shirt. 

You sent him a sultry smirk, before Lucifer closed the distance, climbing on top of you. Gripping at your top, he pulled it from your frame, leaving you bare-chested as well. His eyes traveled down your nude body, as if he was memorizing every crevice and line in your skin. 

You felt a slight bulge in his pants as he kneeled above you, and you bucked your hips. Hearing a hiss of pleasure escape him. 

You leaned forward, taking his lips in a passionate kiss. You wrapped your arms around him, using his weight to keep you upright as your teeth grazed his lip. Lucifer broke from your mouth, trailing quick pecks down to your throat. He placed a wet sloppy kiss in the crook of your neck, and your eyes rolled back with pleasure.

You moaned as his lips trailed down father, in the valley of your chest, and down to your waist. Gripping your lower garments, he tugged them free. You sat back, legs spread as you allowed him to do as he wished. 

He stopped suddenly, and looked up at you with those pretty yellow eyes of his. 

"Are you sure about thi-" He started to say softly, but you cut him off.

"I’ve never been more sure." you said, your hands caressing the side of his face.

He smirked before picking you up, which was no effort, considering the angelic strength he held. He laid you gently on the dining table and trailed kisses down your body once more. The only piece of clothing you had left was the one that covered your nether regions.

"Oh, Luci," you moaned as he slowly took off your underwear. He kissed the inside of your thighs, teasing you before pulling away. You glared at him, and he sent you a smirk, before taking your mouth in another kiss. 

“You’re mine,” He muttered, lapping at your collarbone, “no demon, angel, or any other being in creation will ever come between us. Not a single soul will ever wish you harm and lay their filthy hands on you again.”

You felt his erect manhood pressing against your entrance. You hadn’t realized he had fully removed his clothes until you felt his nakedness against you.

"Oh, fuck," you moaned. You jerked your hips against his, teasing his tip into you. He shuddered for a moment, before stilling.

You bit your lip and gave him a sultry grin. That was all the encouragement he needed; with a single, long thrust, he surged inside you, burying himself to the hilt.

Desperate to have him closer, you hooked your legs around his back and pressed your heels against his ass. 

“More.” You moaned, and he obliged, thrusting again. Your legs trembled at the sensation.

You felt a growl— or maybe a purr— resonate from his chest. Your audible sounds of pleasure only further spurred the intensity of his thrusts, as he slammed into you harder and harder. 

You screamed his name loudly as you came, bliss blooming across your body. He didn't wait for you to come down from you high as he continued his thrusting. With him in control of you now, he was hitting your insides from an incredibly pleasurable angle, and even before your first climax ended, you felt another one rising within.

You tightened your thighs around his back as you came again, your walls flexing around his cock and gripping it so tightly you could feel it pulsing inside you. You both stilled for a moment, and you felt him starting to lean against you. 

Except, you weren’t quite done yet. Now, it was your turn.

Sitting up straight, you moved your leg forward and pushed him backwards with your toes. He stumbled and limply sank into the chair behind him, his hair coated to his face with sweat, his half-lidded eyes watching you intensely.

Your feet hit the cold floor, a rather refreshing feeling from the burning within you, as you sauntered over to him. Taking a finger, you let it graze the underside of his chin, lifting his head to meet your gaze. 

“You’re such a good boy,” You whispered, your voice like honey to Lucifer’s ears, “always doing what you’re told. Never fussing. Good boys deserve a reward, don’t you think?” 

You swore you heard him whimper, and that surprised you. The big boss of hell, coming undone beneath you before you even began. Placing your hands on his shoulders, you lowered yourself.

You slowly sank onto his length, your ass meeting his thighs as you accepted all of him. Slowly, you grinded your hips, and he whimpered again. It was a musical sound, and it made you desperate to hear what else could come from that pretty mouth of his.

Using your legs to strengthen your movements, you bounced atop him. Every smack of your ass against his skin sent you deeper into ecstasy. Leaning your head down, you bit his shoulder as another wave of pleasure hit you. He moaned beneath you, and you bit him again, lapping at the teeth marks left in your wake.

You felt his breath hitch as you came down with more intensity, his own climax nearing. You increased your pace, and felt his waist lifting to meet you as you descended upon him again. His grip around your midsection tightened, his claws digging in your skin as he threw his head back, a moan of pleasure escaping his lips. 

Heat blossomed from your stomach and you let out a breathless gasp as you reached your own climax. Your body trembling from the intensity, as you collapsed into his arms. 

Breathing hard, you both sat there for a moment, before you lifted up your head and used your hand to push his curls back that were plastered to his face. You wanted to see those pretty eyes of his in their full glory. The look he gave you was of such adoration you wanted to cry. 

Have you ever felt this loved before?

“Stay with me tonight, won’t you?” You pleaded with doe-eyes. He smiled, pulling you flush against him. The warmth of his skin turning you to liquid against his touch.

“Anything for you,” He whispered into your ear. 

His wings unfurled, and you felt them curl around your naked body. Your eyes began to close, and Lucifer’s gentle hums lulled you into a state of blissful sleep as you sank further into his chest.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

I hope that wasn’t too long of a fic, but in my defense i need it that long for my writing 😩 This part had me studying over on wattpad to get the smut accurate lmaoooo

lmk what you think!!

Tag list: @ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @loslox @sukxma @undertale-is-sansational @nehy019 @mixplara @chewbrry @yellowsubiesdance @airwolf92 @laurenlaurie @lxkeee

[carpenterswife]

HALF OF ME (i)

SUMMARY: Despite appearances, you’d learnt Soldier Boy was, actually, capable of being a good man. Somehow, you’d wormed yourself into his good books, and had the rarest privilege of seeing him without the suit, the drugs, the ego, the everything. Just as things were going good, his heart somehow getting even warmer for you, the world separates you in the cruelest way.

PAIRING: Soldier Boy x Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT: 3573

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI. Sexism (set in the 1980’s), typical Soldier Boy behaviour, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, questionable morals (peer pressuring drug use), sexual content, eludes to smut, Soldier Boy may be a bit OOC at times, gore.

SERIES MASTERLIST / MAIN MASTERLIST

Becoming a world famous supe was never something you’d ever wanted. Sure, you’d grown up with their photos on your bedroom walls, your father telling you stories of when the first ever supe came to be, insisting he fought alongside the Soldier Boy in the war

The people around you seemed to idolise them. These… mostly regular people in tight suits, pretending to be better than everyone else.

You knew better. You knew enough. Enough to know supes were dirty, and corrupt, and definitely not the heroes they presented themselves to be. That their hands were more blood than they were skin anymore.

And, frankly, you wanted nothing to do with Vought or Payback — or whatever the fuck those shitty, useless superhero teams were called. (Seriously, what did they actually do? Except sit in their pretty tower and take the peoples’ taxes?)

Your father, however, had different ideas.

So, at 18, you woke up in the hospital, after an ugly head collision, with superpowers you’d never had before. A miracle, the doctors called it, a supe whose extraordinary powers had been hidden for her whole life. When you got home, you forced the truth out of your father. Compound V, he called it, a new chemical made by Vought.

No one was born a supe, he admitted, it all came from a liquid in a vial. The truth hurt you, as much as it didn’t really surprise you. Chosen by God, my ass.

This wasn’t supposed to be your life.

But it’s certainly what it turned out to be.

Payback were as shitty, if not more, than you’d originally thought. Each of them had… many flaws. Soldier Boy, obviously, was the worst. If the Devil reincarnated himself, he’d look and act like Soldier Boy.

Simply talking to the man made you want to shoot yourself.

Well… it did at one point.

Two years down the line, things had changed. Soldier Boy was still insufferable, sexist, arrogant, and a major asshole. But… he wasn’t so much a dick directly to you, as he used to be. In fact, if you didn’t know better, you’d say he was actually somewhat nice to you. As much as his macho heart could manage, anyway.

You noticed it the first time when he saved your life on a mission. He’d grabbed your waist when a grenade clinked at your feet, whirling you around and to the ground, squashing you against his firm chest, using his shield to protect you both from the hot blast. He’d shrugged it off as nothing; as something any leader would do for his team. Then you watched him hit Gunpowder about for not following his order to a T, and realised… maybe he did treat you different.

It was undeniable these days.

You were the only person on Payback that Soldier Boy could remotely tolerate.

“You need’a be more careful.” Despite the hard look on his face, Soldier Boy was staring down at you, as a Vought doctor wrapped clean bandages tightly around your midsection. It was a bullet to the wound; which, with being a supe, wouldn’t be too bad, but you didn’t heal inhumanely fast like he did. “You’re fuckin’ useless when you’re hurt.”

You rolled your eyes. “Thanks for your concern, Soldier Boy.”

His eyes narrowed into a harsh glare. “Ben.” He corrected you, for what was probably the 50th time. Each time he did, he got more annoyed with you. “How many times do I have to say it? Is there a brain in that pretty head’a’yours?“

You grunted, spinning on the bed and hanging your legs off the side of it. “Thanks for the compliment.” Ben rolled his eyes at your sarcasm, not offering a hand as you groaned in discomfort and got to your feet. “I’ll be fine. I’ll be healed up by the time we set off for Nicaragua, if that’s what you’re worried ‘bout.”

Ben just grunted, displeased. “Ain’t happenin’.” He immediately shot that idea down. “We leave for Nicaragua in two weeks. You ain’t comin’. Sit this one out.”

You stared, expecting a joke. Clearly, he wasn’t. “Seriously?” You groaned, unhappy. What was it with this guy? “I’ll be fine. It’s a silly little bullet.”

“I was holdin’ your fuckin’ guts in your body.” He walked away, reminding you of just how bad your injury actually had been. He had, indeed, practically been keeping your guts inside of you as you bled out. “You ain’t going. You’re stayin’ here.” You chased after him, pulling your shirt on as you left the infirmary.

“Ben—“

He whirled around to face you. “I said, you’re fucking staying.” He growled, glaring down at you. God, were you glad you were on his side. This man was terrifying. Six feet of pure muscle, strength and violence. “You’re better off here, using that face of yours to get some PR.”

“And, what? The others will back you up?” You scoffed, grabbing his wrist as he went to walk away again. His expression went cold at your touch, but you didn’t flinch. As much as he tried to scare you, Ben wouldn’t raise a hand at you… probably. You had faith in the man. “They can’t fight for shit, Ben. Gunpowder hasn’t even discovered his own dick yet. You think you’re gonna have your back covered out there?”

He ripped his wrist away harshly. “I don’t need my back covered.”

“Everyone needs their back covered.” You argued. “Even you.”

He chuckled, sarcastic and dry. “You worried ‘bout me, princess?” You gave him a ‘seriously?’ look, as he took a step closer, mouth curled into that ever-infuriating smirk. “I’d perform better if you sent me off with a taste of that—“

“Ben.” You interrupted him, unimpressed. You rolled his eyes at his predictable behaviour. “I’m not gonna fuck morale into you.”

“Shame.” His eyes flicked up and down, tracing the curves of your body. “Bet you’d be a firecracker.” He walked away again, and you threw your hands up, groaning. Ben chuckled as he turned the corner. “Think it over, sweetheart.”

“You’ve got a hand.” You called back to him. “Use it!”

Conversations like that were very common with Ben.

It’d be a normal conversation (as normal as it gets with him) — and then he’d start talking about fucking you against the nearest surface, and all pleasantries went down the drain. Seriously, he thought 80% with his dick, and 20% with his actual brain.

And that was being kind.

But, beneath all of his macho assholery, was his genuine worry. You knew he wasn’t letting you accompany the rest of the team to Nicaragua because of your injury, despite how minor it was, and that he was worried you’d injure yourself further.

You’d never slept with Ben, despite how much he’d tried to charm you into his bed. Your relationship was strange. He flirted, you flirted — there were lingering touches. And, sure, he’d never put his dick in you, but his fingers were a different question. And… oh, boy, could that man use his hands.

It was like being in a relationship, just without the sex. Which was odd, as it was Soldier Boy. But, the way he smiled at you and treated you, it made you feel different to the other women.

He was just… shit it showing it.

Poor bastard wouldn’t know emotion if it slapped him in the face.

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

“I am not wearing this.”

Okay… scratch all of that. Maybe Ben was just a dickhead.

He lounged back in his chair, grinning lazily, legs spread like he owned the place. He probably thought he did. “Why not?” He took a sip of his whiskey, ice clinking against the sides, eyes never leaving you from over the rim of the glass.

You held up the fabric. “Seriously?”

It was basically a scrap of fabric, with how much it covered up. You didn’t shy away from showing skin. You quite liked short skirts and pushing the line. Because, as a supe, there was a line. Vought liked it when you showed skin — apparently it made your ratings go up with the male fans, no shocker. But, too much skin on display, the male fans started calling you a whore, and the ratings shot back down.

It was a bit like a balancing game, trying to find the perfect amount of skin to make the boys ogle but also respect you. An impossible feat, truthfully.

And this? This was definitely classed as too much.

“I don’t see the issue.” His smirk said otherwise.

“My tits are not gonna stay in this, Ben!”

His smirk just grew. “Again, I don’t see the issue.”

You groaned and put the dress down. “No. I’ll get my own dress. I am not wearing that.” You tell him, arms folding across your chest. You didn’t miss the way he checked out your tits, and the way the placement of your arms accentuated them.

He rolled his eyes, obviously not happy with your decision. Leaning towards, elbows on his knees, Ben’s eyes took you in. “Why?” His head cocked to the side. “You’d look hot. It’d make your ass look great.”

“That’s not a compliment.” You grumbled, pushing a hand through your hair. Ben made a small grunt of disagreement, but didn’t say anything otherwise. “Listen, there’s a certain line. Alright? If I wear that, every guy out there will be callin’ me a whore. Okay? Imma find something else.”

He hummed and sat back. “I think you should wear that one.” Sighing heavily, you just rolled your eyes at his persistence. “All those assholes will be blowin’ their pants just lookin’ at you, sweetheart.”

“Again, not a compliment.”

Ben stared at you, and silently took another sip of his whiskey. He always seemed to think these crude, rather sexist and inappropriate remarks were compliments. Like commenting on your body. Or saying you’d be a freak in bed. Which were obviously not actually compliments.

You rolled your eyes, rubbing your forehead. “I’ll find another dress, Ben.” You told him, definitive. There was no way he was going to convince you to wear that dress.

“What a disappointment.” He grinned, lopsided. “I was lookin’ forward to seein’ you in that dress.”

“Again,” you deadpanned as he checked you out once more, “you have a hand… use it.”

Ben just smirked, and sipped his whiskey again.

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

You wore the fucking dress.

The asshole always won. Always.

He looked so fucking pleased, as you walked into his after-party, wearing the dress he’d picked out for you. His smugness was clear, brushing through the crowd with ease to come to you.

Ben hummed, eyes dilating as he stared you down. His eyes lingered on your tits, as they always did. “You look…” he hesitated, trying to think of a compliment that wasn’t degrading, and failed, “fuckin’ hot. If you weren’t such a bitch, I’d bend you over right here.”

Your face pulled together in disgust, looking at him with your lips pressed together “… gross.”

He chuckled. “Drink?” He offered. “I got your favourite.”

And there he goes again.

Being nice.

It did your damn head in.

Accepting his offer, you shivered as his large hand landed on the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd. They all seemed to part like the Red Sea as he came through, a fact that amused you greatly.

Seriously. These women looked at him like he was Jesus reincarnated, when he’d totally call them in a whore in bed.

Ben silently reached out for your favourite alcoholic drink, pouring it into a glass. His eyes scanned over the room, smirking at a few of the women ogling, sending them rushing to their friends and squealing. He merely chuckled and handed you the full glass.

“Thanks.” You murmured, taking it from him. Your eyes stared up at him for a moment, curious, before looking away again.

What was it with him? How could be such an egotistical one minute, and then be nice and respectful the next? It was like a guessing game, trying to figure out what mood he was in.

He grabbed your wrist, his grip firm, but not enough to hurt you. “Come with me.” He guided you through the crowd once again, to the doors in the back. As he pushed through into the room, he flashed you a cocky grin over his shoulder. Dickhead.

This room was far quieter. You noticed, immediately, the only people present were supes and celebrities, not the random civilians that’d been granted a pity invite — or the women Ben thought were hot. This was the main party. There were drugs covering every table, with various big names passed out on the chairs, blazed.

Ben lead you to the corner, where he’d obviously already been busy, if the half-snorted lines of cocaine proved anything.

Silently, he offered you a line, which you gratefully accepted.

You didn’t do drugs before you joined Payback. In fact, you’d avoided them, promising yourself you’d never become that type of person. But it was the norm within Vought. Every supe spent their nights filling their bodies to the brim with various drugs, poisoning themselves. So, you started smoking weed to fit in.

Then Ben found out you only did weed, and decided it wasn’t enough. With enough pressure, he’d gotten you onto any other substance he could convince you to try.

It made you more attractive, in his eyes, as you spiralled into addiction like him.

In fact, it got him rock hard, to snort lines or share a joint with you. It was so fucking hot, watching your eyes glass over as you got higher with every hit, with every line. God, it turned him on so bad.

You snorted your third line of the night, when Ben suddenly pushed you back into your chair. Bewildered, you stared at him, as he snatched up a baggie of the white powder. Your heart leapt to your throat, the moment he moved aside the slit in your dress, revealing the bare skin of your thigh. All breath left your lungs, watching him pour some of the powder onto your thigh.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

He was about to do a line off you.

He glanced at you through his lashes, smirking at the shocked and flushed expression you wore. He used his pocket knife to cut the lines, mindful of the sharp blade against your soft skin.

God, this was hot. He found it hot. You found it hot. It’d be a damn miracle if you ended the night with your clothes on at this point.

Your skin tingled as he sniffed up the first line, of his hands roughly gripping the top of your thigh to steady you, his other holding a rolled up $100 bill. He groaned in pleasure, body physically shuddering, head shaking, as the drug made his body run hot.

He did the next line, the grip on your thigh becoming tighter as his pupils began to blow up.

Was it getting hot in here? Or was it just you?

Maybe it was the cocaine in your systems, maybe it was the fact Ben was just… so damn hot, but you couldn’t stop yourself from grabbing his hair and forcing his head up as he snorted the final line off your thigh.

He looked up at you, pupils blown, lips parted. Holy shit. This man was sculpted like a fucking God. Your body shivered. “You finally takin’ my offer, sweetheart?” He chuckled, shaking off the immediate effects of the cocaine, raising himself up to your level.

“Fuck me.” You whispered, breathless, practically begging him.

His eyes went dark, almost black, with lust. The smirk on his lips made you squeeze your legs together. “Don’t need to ask me twice.”

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

You now understood the hype. You understood why women bent their knees the moment Ben uttered a word to them.

Holy shit, did this man have talent.

Your legs were still twitching, the space in between your legs throbbing and tingling with how many times you’d come on his fingers, his tongue and cock. You’d counted four, before your vision had gone white.

Jesus, he had stamina. A glance at the clock on the wall confirmed it’d been just over five hours since you’d first fell into Ben’s bed. That super strength was better for more than just fighting, after all. This man should be advertised for his abilities. No shocker he was an American sex symbol.

He’d just fucked your brains out.

And now, he was staring at you with admiration, laid on his side, in the same bed he’d just railed you in. “You feelin’ okay?” He murmured, genuinely concerned.

“Yeah.” You rolled over to face him, a jolt of discomfort and pain in your hips and thighs. You might have to hold back on… doing anything for the next few days, however. “You didn’t break anything.” You joked, soft and breathy.

He chuckled quietly, hand sliding around your waist and dragging you closer to him. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waitin’ to do that.” He whispered, uncharacteristically soft and gentle.

“To fuck me senseless?”

He smirked. “Mm, I have dreamt of that.” Your eyes narrowed in mild disgust at the image of him having wet dreams about you, swatting his chest. He grinned and caught your hand. “No… I meant how long I’ve waited to have you. You’re fuckin’ perfect. Not just your body. Everything about you is so sexy.”

Your brows furrowed, squeezing his hand, and then worming your fingers out of his. “What do you mean?” You asked softly.

He seemed to struggle for a moment. He wet his tongue with his lips, making your body tingle again. Jesus. “Let’s get dinner.”

What.

“Me and you.” Ben smiled, tracing the curves of your body with a featherlight touch. “Real fancy. I’ll pay.” Was he… asking you on a date right now? The Soldier Boy, asking you on a date? Instead of fucking you and tossing you out?

“You’re serious?” You asked softly, surprised. When he nodded, you grinned, biting your lip to contain it. “Okay, Ben. Let’s get dinner.”

His eyes lit up. Ducking his head down, his lips touched yours, gentle and affectionate. His kiss spoke so many words; his hands gently cradling your body, as he kissed you like you were made of glass. The touch was intimate and loving, widely different to the one he’d used when he’d been on top of you.

No, this was completely different. This was him being vulnerable. This was him showing you just how he felt, without the words.

He smiled against your lips and pulled back, just enough to speak, but his words were still brushing yours. “Yeah?” He whispered, in response to your agreement.

“Yeah.” You stared at him with big eyes.

He grinned, almost boyish in its nature. He stared at you in adoration, seeming to be collecting the words on the tip of his tongue.

You giggled under his stare. You sat up, pulling him with you, grabbing the blanket that he had draped over his headboard. It was fluffy and warm, and smelt like his cologne, and you didn’t hesitate to wrap it around your shoulders, cocooning yourself.

If possible, his gaze softened even more. “You’re adorable.”

Quietly, you laughed. “You sure you wanna do this, Ben?” You stared back at him. Ben was nothing if not a womaniser. Settling down was nothing like him. “Get serious with me, I mean.”

“You’re the only one I’d ever want to.”

Your brows pulled together, confused. “Why?”

Ben soothed a hand through your hair, green eyes drinking in the perfections and imperfections on your face. “You’re the only one I trust.” His voice was gravelly, still heavy with the effects of your recent endeavours. His hand travelled through your hair, and then came down to cup your cheek.

Wrapped up in his fluffy blanket, your head rested on the wooden headboard. “I trust you, too.” You whispered, tilting your head into his palm. His skin was rough, painted with callouses and scars. Every scar on his body had a story. And you’d spend the rest of your life learning every single one.

Despite himself, he smiled at you, thumb tracing the curve of your cheekbone. “I’d kill for you. You know that?” His words made you shiver. Ben killing people wasn’t exactly new… or surprising. But doing it for you? God, it made your stomach heat up — and other parts. “These assholes don’t hold a candle to you, doll. Countess? That whore is— is repulsive compared to you.”

You laughed softly, rolling your eyes affectionately. “Ben.” You scolded quietly, though not with an ounce of anger.

The supe just smirked, chuckling deep in his throat. “You want me to drop that bullshit PR relationship I have with her? I’ll do it. In a fucking heartbeat. I’ll be with you, publicly, if you want me.”

“You’d ruin your reputation for me?” Now that — that meant something. Ben could say anything and everything; he was a master manipulator. He could get anything he wanted with that smile and his suave words. But, if there was one thing he would always prioritise, it was his reputation. He’d do anything to be the alpha male. Anything.

“I’d do anything for you.” He grabbed your hand within his much larger one, guiding it to his chest. He pressed your palm over his heart, allowing you to feel his heartbeat. “I’ll do anything for you, to be with you.” You felt the steady rhythm of his heart. He wasn’t lying. That, or he was a great fucking liar. “I’m never leaving your side. I’m yours.”

Your eyes searched deep within his. “Always?”

Ben smiled. “Always.” He leant forward, gently pressing his lips against yours in a tender kiss.

Three months later, Soldier Boy died in a nuclear meltdown.

A/N: jesus christ this took me so long to write 😭 but i’m so happy with how this first chap turned out. it’s gonna get so much more fun to write we get to the action 👀 pls lmk if there’s any mistakes, as i will go back n fix them !!! hope you enjoyed <3

banners by @cafekitsune

TAGLIST: @onlyangel-444 @deans-spinster-witch @fumolemon @anundyingfidelity

[earlysunshines]

downstairs neighbor

danielle marsh x fem!reader ; fluff

synopsis: in which you party so often that you get another complaint, but this time it's from a very pretty girl that really has you considering shutting the whole function down.

warnings: alcohol and weed mentioned ; readers an asshole at first but danielle is danielle so reader goes through a whole crisis ; yeah they're adorable, basically black cat and golden retriever trope sorry not sorry ; anything else i didn't mention ; not proofread

a/n: get it because usually it's the upstairs neighbor but i'm quirky so its not... ok nvm ill delete my account i gues ... anyways FIRST DANI FIC UNDER 10K! guys im so in love with her i need to be put into an asylum do u see these pics of her LOOK AT HERR!!! i need to die like rn

danielle has settled in quite alright into her new university. she's moved in with one of her close friends from high school, decorated her side of the room, and all of her professors are oddly sweet--much better than the professors from her old school.

she makes it to the first friday of the semester, deciding to settle in and watch a movie, maybe call her mom and dad later if she doesn't doze off. but when she hears muffled music and disturbing footsteps from downstairs, she pauses the show she's two minutes into and gets out of her bed.

hanni's on the other side of the room completely slumped, her headphones peeking out from the blanket sprawled on top of her with no care in the world as to what is happening downstairs. danielle purses her lips before getting out of bed and slipping the university sweatshirts over her tank top.

she looks back over at hanni, who’s still sleeping, before heading out into the living room area, past the kitchen, and out the door.

when she reaches the floor below, she follows the noise, it gets louder as she steps through the corridors, and then she stops in front of what she suspects is the source of all this disruption before knocking on the door—no response.

“hm.” she mumbles, knocking again in a little pattern—still no response.

before she can knock again, her fist in the air ready to hammer a little harder on the door, it opens.

a girl—probably her age—answers it, eyes narrowed at danielle. she’s slightly taller, but still, danielle feels a little small with how scrutinizing she checks her out. 

“did kazuha invite you? yujin? or was it jungwon?” the girl looks at her with raised brows, expecting an answer with a slightly bothered look. it seems like danielle had interrupted their little… event? whatever event it was, did they really need to have house music being blasted so loudly?

danielle rubs her thumb against her pointer finger, trying to steady her nerves. “oh, no, i um… wasn’t invited,” she says, her voice wavering slightly. the words sound even more pathetic out loud than they did in her head, but there’s no taking them back now. she pushes on, though it feels like her confidence is slipping away with every syllable. “i was just wondering if—well, if you could turn the music down? my roommate is sleeping and it’s just… really disturbing.”

the girl in front of her snickers, a look of disbelief crossing her face as she sizes danielle up. it’s clear she finds the request ridiculous, and danielle feels her cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“you know what, this isn’t even my party—hey y/n! come out here!” the girl calls over her shoulder, her tone dismissive as she waves danielle off like she’s someone else’s problem now.

you hear your name being called, and with a sigh, you push yourself up from the couch. the group you were sitting with whines in protest as you leave, but you roll your eyes—they’re all drunk, their complaints nothing more than the amplified nonsense of intoxicated minds.

“what is it, yunjin?” you call out, rubbing your eyes as you approach the entrance, the taste of the cheap beer sakura handed you earlier lingering unpleasantly on your tongue. “what—”

the words die in your throat as you spot the girl standing just inside the doorway. she’s probably, no, definitely new here—new to the party, new to the scene. you’ve never seen someone that makes you stop in your tracks like this. her long eyelashes flutter as she looks up at you, her big brown eyes sparkling with a mix of nervousness and something else you can’t quite place. she’s dressed in baggy sweats and an oversized university sweater, the logo stretched across her chest in signature block letters. there’s an air of innocence about her, something that feels out of place amidst the environment both of you are in right now.

you take her in, noting how pretty she is—adorable, if you’re going to be honest with yourself. she looks like a lost puppy, especially with those pleading eyes and the subtle bite of her lip—

you push the thought aside, telling yourself it doesn’t matter. you’re just here to deal with whatever minor inconvenience yunjin has decided to dump on you.

“who are you?”

“um, my name is danielle, i live right above.” she has an accent, something strong and similar to that girl yunjin’s been bickering with – was it lily? no, bangchan? hell no, she hates him and his little group. ah, hanni that short girl that came complaining during your second party of freshman year, yunjin still brings her up. 

“right, what do you want?” you ask, sensing yunjin’s departure when you feel her brush against your shoulder. “is there a problem or?”

“well, yeah, kind of…” she’s actually adorable, especially when she avoids your eye contact like that. “it’s kind of loud, you know. i was wondering if you could turn down the volume a bit? there’s a lot of thumping i can hear from above, i can’t imagine how it must be for the downstairs neighbors…”

“you must be new.”

“sorry?”

“you’ll get used to it.” you say simply, poking the inside of your cheek before starting to close the door. “i recommend a pair of some good noise cancelling headphones—and a signature study spot. see you around danielle.”

you feel a strange pang of guilt, something unfamiliar and uncomfortable twisting in your chest. you’ve done this before—brushed off people’s complaints, shut the door on them without a second thought. but there’s something about her that makes you hesitate, something that tugs at you. maybe it’s the way she looked at you, those big brown eyes wide with a mix of hope and desperation, like she was really counting on you to help. you give her one more glance, catching that puppy-dog expression that makes your resolve waver for just a second. but then, before you can think twice, you close the door on her, shutting out the sight of her pleading face.

–

danielle spends the whole night tossing and turning, the faint vibration of the music seeping through the ground and into her restless mind. it’s not loud enough to keep her fully awake, but just persistent enough to keep her from finding any real rest. she considers going back downstairs, maybe trying to have a proper conversation, coming to some kind of compromise. but every time she thinks about it, the memory of how things ended—the snickers, the dismissive attitude—fills her with embarrassment, making her shrink back into her bed.

the next morning, she’s awake before the sun, the lingering fatigue making her body feel heavy and sluggish. still, she forces herself out of bed, the need to talk to someone—anyone—pushing her into action. with a deep breath, she reaches over and starts shaking hanni awake, the clock not even close to ten a.m. on a weekend. hanni groans in protest, burrowing deeper into the blankets, but danielle is relentless, her fingers poking at hanni’s sides until her sleepy roommate finally stirs, blinking up at her with bleary eyes.

“what the hell man? the sun is still rising!”

“what do you know about the downstairs neighbor?”

“w-what?” hanni mumbles, rubbing her eyes as she turns to lay on her back and squint at her roommate. “y/n? is this about her?”

“the girl directly below us—taller, mean, arrogant, tattoo on her arm and wrist, kind of pretty, nice lips, and jawline… ugh! her!”

“that’s y/n, but you’re reaching with the whole kind of pretty part. petty? yeah, more accurate.”

“last night i went down and asked her to–”

“you went to her place? to do what, complain?” 

“yes!” hanni shuts her eyes and sinks her head deeper into the pillow, sighing softly again. her roommate is new, she can’t be harsh, and plus, it’s danielle. 

“dani… the ra is literally in love with her, and y/n uses that so she can party and get high in her fuckass living room.”

“what?”

“danielle, mo dani, please listen.” hanni sits up, blinking hard as she reaches out ot put a hand on her friends shoulder. “you’ll get used to it, you can use my old headphones and i’ll show you my favorite cafe.”

“you’re just going to let this slide?”

“well until y/n stops flirting with jiyoung; there’s nothing we can really do other than cope every friday—and sometimes saturday—night.” hanni explains, flopping onto the bed and returning to fetal position. “can you put the blanket over me, please? i’m tired and cold… please.”

danielle frowns before covering her roommates body with her weighted blanket, sighing before she returns to her bed, laying down and recollecting all her memories from the night before–of you.

—

you’re late. of course you’re late on the second week of classes, as if last weeks twenty minute surprise appearance wasn’t humbling enough. 

as you rush out of your apartment, you’re met with jiyoung standing right by the exit, as if she’s been waiting for you—she probably has. this has happened at least once a week last year. she greets you with her signature smile and a small piece of chocolate, a gesture that would be sweet if you weren’t in such a hurry. you force a smile and mumble a quick thanks, but you know what’s coming next. the compliments, the small talk, the forced out, cliché lines she always uses. it’s all part of her routine, but you really don’t have the time for it today. you need to get to class.

fifteen minutes later, you’re finally free from jiyoung’s conversation, but you’re also running dangerously late. again. you sprint across campus, your heart pounding in your chest as you mentally prepare for the inevitable stares and the professor’s disapproving remarks.

when you finally reach the classroom, you throw the door open a little too forcefully. the room falls silent as heads turn to face you, the sudden interruption catching everyone’s attention. you freeze for a second, cringing at yourself when you’re caught in the spotlight, before the professor’s voice cuts through the silence.

“late on the second week? what was it, kim… no, yang…” he trails off, squinting at you as if trying to remember your name.

you clear your throat, feeling your face heat up. “l/n, l/n y/n,” you correct him, trying to keep your voice steady.

“well, you’re lucky i’ve just started the lecture. please hurry and take a seat, you’ve already made quite the impression.”

“sorry, sir,” you mumble, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration as you scan the room for an empty seat. most of the rows are full, and the weight of all those eyes on you makes your skin prickle with discomfort.

finally, you spot an open seat in the fourth row from the top, right at the edge. you hurry over and drop your bag beside the chair, quickly unzipping it to pull out your laptop. your hands move with practiced speed, signing in and opening a page for notes before setting your bag on the empty seat next to you. you look up, hoping to catch up on what you’ve missed so far. 

and that’s when you see her.

danielle. she’s sitting just two seats away from you, her gaze locked on yours the moment you look up. her big brown eyes, framed by those impossibly long lashes, are full of recognition—and something else you can’t quite place, and why are they sparkling? your jaw tenses as you force yourself to look away, zipping up your bag with a little more force than necessary. three seats. that’s all that separates you from the girl who showed up at your doorstep last friday, the one you dismissed without a second thought. and now here she is, sitting way too close for comfort, her presence making the air around you feel heavier.

of course you blindly chose the spot next to her. the new girl who filed a complaint, only to have the door shut on her. it’s just your luck.

you catch her in your peripheral staring at you for a few more seconds before she redirects her attention towards the professor. you let out a breath of relief, now you just have to get through the next hour and fifty minutes near the cute girl you were an ass to.

–

as soon as the class ends, you’re out the door without sparing a glance at danielle. she watches you hurry out, noticing how you started packing up your things five minutes before class was even dismissed. it’s like you couldn’t wait to get away.

you make your way to the engineering building, where you know your roommate yunjin’s class ended a bit earlier. when you spot her in the lobby, you walk up with a bothered look on your face.

“good morning…?” yunjin greets you, her smirk showing she’s amused by your expression.

“you won’t believe who’s in my sociology class,” you say, still reeling from the encounter.

“everyone takes sociology, even the finance freaks,” she replies, shrugging as if it’s not a big deal.

“nevermind.” you roll your eyes, scoffing. “whatever, let’s grab a bite. i’m hungry.”

“you always are,” yunjin chuckles, stepping beside you.

the two of you end up at your favorite local thai place, sharing a large bowl of fried rice. it’s a familiar routine—since freshman year, you’ve known one bowl is more than enough to satisfy both of you. the memory of that first time, half-drunk and thinking the portions would be small, makes you smile despite your lingering annoyance.

as you chew on your second bite, glancing at a notification on your phone, yunjin’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “so, who’s in your sociology class?”

“danielle,” you reply, not looking up from your phone.

“who?”

“the girl from friday.”

yunjin frowns, trying to recall. “at our party? there wasn’t anyone i didn’t know–”

“no, no. the girl you made me deal with. she knocked on the door—big eyes, long lashes.”

“oh, her,” yunjin hums, finally understanding. “what about her?”

“i closed the door on her that night after she complained or whatever. i didn’t think much of it, but then i was late to class because jiyoung wanted to talk to me, and i picked a random spot… turns out it was three fucking seats away from her—danielle.”

yunjin laughs, thankfully before she can take another bite of rice. “seriously?”

“shut up.”

“that’s hilarious. you think she’s going to give you shit?”

“i mean,” you poke at your rice, hesitating, “she doesn’t seem like she will…”

but even as you say it, the thought nags at you. danielle doesn’t seem like the type to hold a grudge—polite and sweet even when you were being arrogant—almost too good to be true. she looks like she belongs in a fairy tale, with her princess-like appearance and demeanor. meanwhile, you feel like the ugly villain in her story, lurking under the bridge, ready to cast a spell or something like that. the more you think about it, the more ridiculous it seems.

“then you’ll be fine, you were fine shutting the door on her anyway.”

you were fine, but that version of you was under the influence of cheap beer and too focused on going back to your conversation than dealing with someone’s complaint—even if it were from danielle.

“i guess.”

–

the next time you host a party, the volume’s turned down by two notches. you tell yourself it’s because yunjin’s been saying “huh?” to you more often, but deep down, you know that’s not the real reason.

you’ve also decided to stick with one can of beer instead of three. even yujin seemed surprised when you declined the second. 

these parties used to be at jake’s place, but he argued they should be at yours since the ra is madly in love with you, and your place is slightly bigger. you were against it at first, but socializing never hurt, and it made you happy to see others happy. you’d also be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the occasional expensive drink that someone brought when their paycheck had been a bit fatter that week.

now, you’re leaning against the counter while minji rummages through a cupboard, searching for spare plastic cups. you take a sip from your sprite—the second can of the night, and surprisingly, neither has been alcoholic (you don’t count the bitter can of beer, it’s only five percent alcohol). yunjin’s voice cuts through the music just loud enough for you to hear, “you think that girl will show up again? give you shit?”

“i’d hope not.” you pretend it’s a truthful statement, your tone firm, a little snarky, and a bit confident, but there’s a small part of you that hopes she does. you catch yourself imagining her showing up in her oversized sleepwear again, her eyes wide, her voice so soft and sweet it makes your chest tighten a little. 

“and if she does?”

“i’ll shut her out again.”

“and if you show up late, then sit three seats away from her again?”

“ignorance.” you sip on your sprite again, licking your lips to savor something that actually satisfies your tastebuds. 

“you’re good at that.”

“aw, thanks.” you say bitterly, hearing yunjin snicker as she tears open a new pack of red plastic cups. “asshat.”

your orange-haired roommate leans against the counter across from you, then says, “i think jungwon brought penjamin.” his infamous pen, the one you took way too many hits of last time that it had you seeing the stars. 

“not again, i don’t trust myself.”

she laughs at you again, “i don’t trust you either, let’s stick with a hit or two instead of five.”

“and you need to stick with a few drinks instead of passing out on the floor again. you’re lucky you were leaning against the couch.”

“womp womp.” you can’t believe her, what an idiot.

“say that again when you wake up with your legs in the fucking blinds, or something. i still don’t know how you don’t have liver damage, and doesn’t that affect your performance on the court?”

“conditioned to drink and score three’s.”

“whatever.” you sigh, then hear a few knocks from the door.

yunjin raises her brows, then chuckles, “hey, it’s your lovergirl.”

“she’s not my— ugh. be right back.” 

lovergirl, yunjin is going to wake up upside down in her closet if she keeps it up. there’s no chance that she’s attracted to you in the slightest, not with your first impressions. the thought makes you a little dissapointed, but you shake your head, you’re being ridiculous again. 

you shake the thought away, forcing yourself to focus getting to your door and not tripping on the shoe that had been blindlessly kicked off. there’s a quiet anticipation simmering beneath your calm exterior as the music gets more faint in your ears. you tell yourself you’re being stupid, but the truth is harder to ignore—there’s a part of you that wants her to be at the door, even if it’s just to scold you again.

you open the door, and there she is—miss lovergirl herself.

“another party?” she asks, her tone light, almost teasing.

“are you going to tell me to shut the whole thing down? still haven't invested in headphones, have you?”

“actually, i wasn’t going to—the shutting down part, i have headphones being delivered tomorrow.” she replies, smiling. maybe your brows furrow, just a little. “but the music is a little quieter, that i noticed, so maybe my efforts did pay off.” she pauses, then adds, “anyway, my roommate told me there’s no getting through to you about these parties. so, i came here to give you this.” 

she holds out a keychain with a cardholder attached, and you see a picture inside—a photo of you and your little brother at your high school graduation. he’s about twelve in the picture, braces on and cheeks still chubby. it’s one of your favorite photos, and your eyes widen as you take it from her slowly, almost carefully.

“where’d you get this?” you ask, voice a bit more cautious than you intended.

“you dropped it under your seat last lecture. seemed like you were in such a rush to leave, or to avoid me…?” she tilts her head, batting those impossibly long lashes.

you realize she’s not in her sleepwear this time. she’s dressed in everyday clothes—a zip-up over a fitted white shirt, jeans, and some well-worn sneakers. a nike cap sits snugly on her head, her long, wavy hair flowing down in a way that makes you look twice. she’s wearing light makeup, and it strikes you for the first time how nice her lips are, and—

“um, thanks,” you mutter.

“it’s no problem.”

“are you going to ask me to turn the volume down now?” 

she shakes her head, adjusting the backpack slipping down her shoulder. “no, but i'd appreciate it. you’ve already made baby steps.”

if it had been anyone else saying that, you’d have rolled your eyes, maybe even scoffed in their face. but there’s something about the way danielle says it—so genuinely, so kindly—that catches you off guard. you’re used to sharp words and snide remarks, not this… breath of fresh air, this three a.m. glass of water in the form of a person.

“right, okay,” you manage to say.

“well, i'll get going then. my roommate’s friend is coming over to watch a movie with us, so we’d appreciate it if you could maybe turn it down. but, that’s up to you, mate.” 

“oh, okay, yeah.” you feel like you’re melting into a puddle. what is going on with you? “i’ll see what i can do.”

“night then.”

“night?”

she walks off, your eyes follow her until she reacehs the end of the hall. it was the most casual encounter you’ve ever had in a bit, and yet, it felt like so much more. 

–

haerin sits back, watching without a word as hanni and minji bicker over the remote, their voices rising slightly above the hum of the tv. hanni has her arms crossed tightly over her chest, a scowl forming when minji suggests yet another sappy romance. haerin half expects them to start wrestling for control, but just before the tension hits a breaking point, the sound of the door lock twisting stops them. both heads turn to see danielle stepping inside, her hand raised in a small wave, a polite smile on her lips.

“sorry i’m late,” danielle apologizes.

“you’re good,” hanni replies, running her fingers through her hair to fix it. “movie time? can you choose, please…”

“yeah! let me get changed first, okay?”

“okay, okay, but hurry or else minji’s gonna have my limbs cut off or something. and we both know haerin would rather watch than save either of us.” hanni jokes, drawing a chuckle from haerin and a playful glare from minji. 

a few minutes later, danielle is back in an old t-shirt and plaid pajama pants. she drops herself right between hanni and minji, effectively acting as a buffer. she grabs the remote, settling under the blanket as her legs casually stretch across hanni's lap.

“where were you, by the way?” hanni asks, feeling danielle’s legs settle more comfortably over her own. “if the bus was late, you could’ve called.”

“my bus came early. i just stopped by y/n’s,” danielle replies casually.

minji’s head snaps toward danielle so fast it’s a wonder she doesn’t get whiplash. haerin even lets out a small gasp of “what?”

“y/n? you mean l/n y/n?” minji echoes, her tone filled with disbelief. “you went to her place?”

danielle nods. “she dropped something in the class we have together, so i returned it.”

“and she didn’t bite your head off?” minji asks, eyes wide. “you’re really something, danielle.”

danielle just laughs softly, her fingers scrolling through the endless netflix catalog in search of a movie they all might actually agree on. she seems unfazed by the shock that mentioning your name has caused, a slight smile playing on her lips. she can’t quite understand the big deal. you’ve been… normal, for the most part—pretty normal, actually, in the three times she’s spoken to you.

“she’s really not that bad,” danielle shrugs, finally stopping on a rom-com that catches her eye. “i can fix her.”

“you can what?” hanni swivels her head toward danielle, eyes wide in disbelief.

“what?” danielle grins. “she doesn’t bite.”

“well, her friend yunjin does,” hanni mutters, thinking back to the group project from hell with yunjin, who’d spent every meeting hungover and useless. “she’s probably just like the people she hangs out with.”

“no, i bet she’s nicer deep down.”

“you’re too pure for this world,” minji murmurs, feeling danielle’s head lean on her shoulder. “she’s got a bad reputation, you know.”

“well, she turned the volume down for us,” danielle insists.

“she did?” hanni raises an eyebrow, surprised.

“yeah, just before i visited her. i told her we’d be having a movie night and said i’d appreciate it if she toned it down a bit. now we can barely feel the bass.”

hanni thinks for a moment. maybe the music is a bit quieter, but she’s gotten so used to it, she barely notices the difference. minji and haerin, on the other hand, don't deal with the noise often—haerin lives with her parents, and minji’s dorm is on the other wing.

danielle presses play, and the conversation shifts. they all settle in, pushing the topic of you, the downstairs neighbor, out of their minds as they focus on the opening scenes of the movie.

hanni leans into haerin, a smile on her lips as her legs tangle with danielle’s. “you’re so interesting, man,” she mutters, half-amused, half-bewildered.

–

there aren't any assigned seats—it's university, for crying out loud. still, you find yourself three seats away from danielle again, like last time, pretending not to notice her as you settle in, determined not to drop anything today. you set your things down carefully, opening up your laptop and pulling out your ipad, keeping your eyes firmly on the screen.

out of the corner of her eye, danielle watches you fumble with the apple pen, spinning it between your ring and middle finger. she sees it slip from your grip and clatter to the floor beside you. you let out a soft sigh, standing to retrieve it, making your way down two rows. when you straighten up and head back, you catch danielle trying to hide a smile, her shoulders shaking with quiet laughter.

“what’s so funny?” you ask, a little defensive.

“your pen-spinning skills,” danielle says, turning fully toward you with that same amused smile. “slippery fingers?”

“shouldn’t you be reviewing before the lecture?”

“i usually get here fifteen minutes early,” she replies, still grinning. “i’ve already done that.”

“whatever.” you drop back into your seat, tapping away at your keyboard as the professor approaches the front, fiddling with the hdmi cable. you open your notes app, trying to ignore the way danielle’s laughter still lingers in the air.

“you know i don’t bite, right?” her voice breaks your focus.

“what?”

she nods at the empty seats between you. “you’re sitting pretty far… come sit next to me.”

“i’m not getting up. my stuff’s already out.”

danielle rolls her eyes, moving the desk platform in front of her as she stands, gathering her things without a second thought, and before you know it, she’s dropping into the seat beside you. you weren’t expecting that—her choosing to sit next to you so boldly. but there she is, right next to you, with that grin stretching across her face as she adjusts her notebook.

“there, lazy bum,” she teases, her tone light, eyes flicking back to the professor as he sets up the projection.

you find yourself staring, caught off guard by how close she is. she smells sweet—like cherries, with a mix of amber and jasmine. you quickly shift your gaze back to your laptop, opening your calendar and planner and, almost instinctively, the tab with the jacket you’ve been eyeing for weeks.

when you steal another glance at danielle, she’s put on a pair of glasses. stupid, adorable glasses that make her look even cuter—something you didn’t think was possible. 

you can’t help the small grin that creeps onto your face as you focus back on the slides on the big screen, but your mind is still partially with her, sitting beside you, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off her skin.

—

for the next month, sociology becomes your favorite class—not because of the subject, but because it means you get almost two hours near danielle. she’s just as sweet as she looks, always greeting you with a warm smile and tossing out casual small talk that somehow feels more personal every time. she compliments you now and then, little things like “your hair looks nice today” or “i like your shoes,” which leaves you more flustered than you’d care to admit. soon enough, it's routine—you both leave class together, walking side by side until you reach the main lobby of the science building. danielle always waves goodbye with that bright smile, her eyes sparkling, even when the sky is overcast. you smile back, feeling a little bashful, but somehow, it feels right.

sometimes, you even meet up at the entrance of your little dorm complex to head to class together. danielle's just a floor above, so you run into her in the elevator sometimes too. there’s something about her—something so effortlessly charming and magnetic. it’s like she’s a light, and you’re a moth, drawn into her presence without even realizing it.

what you don’t realize is that jiyoung, your ra, has noticed these little interactions. she catches glimpses now and then, her curiosity piqued.

after another class ends, you wave goodbye to danielle, planning to meet up with yunjin, but before you can leave, jiyoung intercepts you. 

"hey, didn’t see you this morning,” she says, her tone casual but her eyes narrowing slightly. “i haven’t been seeing you around as much, actually."

"oh, yeah… i’ve been…” you start, your gaze flicking past her to danielle, who’s almost out of the building. jiyoung looks in the same direction to see danielle as well, her brows furrow just a bit. you continue, “um, spending more time with this girl in my sociology class."

"right, danielle? she’s on the floor above you, right?”

“yeah…”

“hm,” jiyoung murmurs, more to herself than to you. “you’ve been spending a lot of time with her, haven’t you?”

“i mean, yeah. she’s nice and—why does it matter?”

“you’re not into her, are you?”

the question catches you off guard, like a punch you didn’t see coming. you stare at jiyoung like she’s lost her mind. “w-what? n-no, no, she’s just— you know, we’re friends. we’re friendly.”

“nothing more, right?”

“i mean, no, but even if it were… why does it matter to you?”

jiyoung’s gaze drops to the floor, and she mumbles, “i don’t know? i mean, you said you didn’t even want to date.”

you pinch the bridge of your nose, exhaling in frustration. “look, i’ve got to meet up with yunjin. i’ll see you around, okay?”

you turn to leave, but jiyoung’s soft scoff stops you in your tracks. she hesitates for a moment before speaking again.

“by the way,” she says, her tone light but pointed. you turn your head slightly, just enough for her to see the edge of your expression. “you can’t party this weekend. there’s been an increase in complaints.”

you pivot to face her fully, opening your mouth to argue but then closing it again. you bite the inside of your lip, letting the frustration simmer before you finally nod, muttering a resigned, “fine.”

jiyoung watches you, her expression unreadable, as you walk away, but you don’t look back. the weekend suddenly feels a lot quieter than you planned.

—

even if you’d wanted to party, it wouldn't have been an option. yunjin’s gone home for the weekend to help her sister, and you’re stuck in your dorm, feeling sicker than you’ve ever felt.

the day started off fine, just a light headache that you shrugged off. but somewhere between the gym and a quick grocery run, everything went downhill. by the time you made it back to your place, it felt like your body had been run over by a truck. your head throbbed, every limb ached, and a wave of dizziness nearly had you collapsing against the wall as soon as you stepped inside.

you barely made it to the kitchen, dropping the paper bag of groceries onto the counter before stumbling toward your bedroom. the cold hit you like a slap to the face, making you shiver uncontrollably. you rummaged through your closet for the thickest sweatshirt and sweatpants you could find, pulling them on with shaky hands. 

you didn’t even think to check your temperature; the pounding in your head and the chills wracking your body were enough to know you were in trouble. grabbing two ibuprofen from the drawer, you swallowed them dry with a couple of forced gulps of water, then collapsed onto your bed. 

you pulled the covers around you, but they did little to stop the violent shivers. your teeth chattered, and you curled in on yourself, hugging your knees to your chest as if that would somehow keep the cold at bay. every breath felt heavy, every blink longer than the last, until finally, exhaustion pulled you under.

—

the music is noticeably quieter these days, sparing your hearing and everyone else a floor above or below you. really, it’s all danielle's doing. she's somehow found your weakness—those soft, pleading eyes and that gentle voice asking you to turn it down. it’s a saturday night, and normally she’d hear the faint beats of charli xcx or troye sivan vibrating up through the floor, but tonight there’s nothing. 

danielle seems to be the only one in her shared dorm—and probably the whole building—who feels unsettled by the lack of music. the silence is almost unnerving. 

“finally, i can take a nap without those headphones on,” hanni sighs, dropping face-first onto her bed like a log. 

danielle, leaning against her bedframe, bites her lip. “don’t you think it’s weird though? no party tonight?”

“weird? dani, this is a miracle,” hanni mumbles, already half-asleep. “it’s been months since she hasn’t partied, and that was only because we were all gone during summer break.”

but as hanni's breathing evens out and she drifts off, danielle’s frown deepens. it is weird. you’ve never missed a saturday night. she doesn’t even have your number to text and check if everything’s alright.

minutes pass, and her mind races with possibilities—maybe you’re just tired, or busy with something else, or… sick? before she knows it, danielle is up and moving, driven by a strange concern she doesn’t fully understand. she tucks hanni in properly, pulling the blanket up over her instead of letting it dangle off the bed. 

once she's sure hanni is comfortable, she heads for the door, slipping on her slides and grabbing her key. she feels a small surge of determination as she steps into the hallway. if something’s wrong, she needs to know. danielle isn’t sure what she’ll find out, but she's already halfway down the hall, her feet carrying her to your place almost on their own.

she gets to your door quickly, fixing her hair because you’re somehow the only person who makes her feel the need to fuss over her appearance. 

danielle knocks twice, softly at first, just enough to be heard over normal conversation, but there's no answer. she waits, listening for any sound from inside, even from your orange-haired roommate—but nothing. she knocks again, a little louder this time, about the same level as when you party. still nothing. 

determined, she finally bangs on the door with all her might and shouts, "y/n! hello?" her voice echoes in the hallway, and a few curious heads peek out from behind their own doors, wondering what’s going on.

there's a long moment of silence before she hears a faint, “coming! coming...” it sounds like you, but groggier, almost as if the sound is muffled by the door between you two.

danielle waits, her heart pounding in her chest, until the door opens just a crack, and you peek out, looking utterly exhausted. 

“y/n?”

“w-what, what...” you murmur, your voice barely more than a whisper, and slightly slurred, like you’ve been asleep for days. "who— danielle? what are you doing here? there's no party," you mutter, breathing heavily like you’ve just run a mile. "you don’t have to… have to yell at me."

“i’m not here to yell at you, i never yell at you, silly," danielle says softly, a small smile on her face. "can i come in?”

you hum in agreement, and she pushes the door open further, stepping inside. 

the apartment is dimly lit, with only the glow from the streetlights outside and a small lamp in the living room. danielle’s eyes dart around—she’s never actually been inside before, just caught glimpses through the doorway during those parties. it’s surprisingly clean, smelling of lavender and fresh laundry instead of the stale beer or weed she expected. 

you stumble forward, catching yourself on the kitchen counter, your legs shaky and unsteady. 

danielle rushes over, her hand reaching for your arm. “are you okay?”

“y-yeah, i’m fine," you mumble, but your voice is rough, strained. 

she flicks on a light, and you wince, shielding your eyes with the back of your hand. danielle guides you to the couch, sitting you down gently. you slump back into the cushions, and she takes a closer look—your hair is stuck to your forehead, cheeks rosy, and there’s a dullness in your usually sharp eyes.

without thinking, she presses the back of her hand to your forehead, feeling the intense heat radiating from your skin. “you’re burning up,” she says softly, concern etched in her voice. “how long have you been like this?”

“i– i don’t know… i’m so tired…” you murmur, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

“let’s get you to your bed,” danielle suggests. “can you show me?”

you nod weakly, and she helps you to your feet. you sway slightly, leaning heavily on her as she tries to steady you. you’re taller, heavier, and she’s not exactly built for this—but she does her best, slipping an arm around your waist to support you.

your head drops forward, and you breathe slowly against her shoulder. danielle's heart races as she feels the warmth of your breath, and when you look up, your faces are inches apart, close enough that she can feel the heat radiating off you. her cheeks warm up, she wonders if your fever is contagious.

but she shakes it off, tightening her grip on you. “come on,” she whispers. “let’s get you to bed.”

you lead her to your room, and she’s a little surprised by how tidy it is. the walls are painted in soft, earthy tones, the furniture minimalistic and neatly arranged. polaroids and film photos cover the walls, snapshots of you and your friends, some of family, too. there’s a warmth to it, a sense of calm that she hadn’t expected. she notices a movie poster above your bed—something she doesn’t recognize. you collapse onto the bed immediately, curling up into a tight ball, yanking the nearest blanket over you with a groan.

danielle watches you for a moment, then quietly slips out of the room. you lie there, thoughts buzzing in your foggy mind. how did she know you were sick? why is she here? did she come just for you? did you forget something? but the craziest thought of all is that danielle is in your apartment, just the two of you. the realization sends a tiny thrill through your chest.

she returns a few minutes later, carrying a bowl, a bottle of medicine, and a thermometer. she sits beside you on the edge of the bed, nudging you over gently so you're lying flat on your back, your tired eyes meeting hers. she sets the bowl beside you and slides the thermometer into your mouth. you stare at her, feeling a bit dazed, and she offers a small, reassuring smile.

when it beeps, she pulls it out and checks the screen, her brow furrowing slightly. “you’ve got a fever, it’s pretty high,” she murmurs, setting the thermometer down and reaching for a water bottle. “i kind of went through your place to find this, i hope that’s okay.”

you nod weakly, letting her help you sit up on your elbows. she presses the bottle to your lips, and you sip slowly, a few drops spilling out and dribbling down your chin. you reach up, embarrassed, to wipe them away, but danielle just grins at you gently, wiping them with her sleeve.

she places the bottle down and dips her hand into the bowl. you lie back, too tired to care, hearing the soft sound of water being wrung out. then, without warning, she presses a cool, damp cloth to your forehead, and you wince at the sudden chill, a small whine escaping your lips. danielle clicks her tongue softly, using her thumb to swipe a stray drop of water away from the corner of your eye. 

“i know it’s cold, but it’ll help bring your fever down,” she explains gently.

you feel her hand slide down, and suddenly her fingers are wrapped around yours. her thumb brushes over your knuckles in slow, soothing circles, and you let out a shaky breath, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest. you hum softly, the tension easing out of your body.

"is it okay if i stay for a bit?" she asks quietly. "i don't want you to be alone, but this is your place, after all."

“p-please,” you whisper, gripping her hand tighter, needing the comfort. “please stay.”

she smiles warmly, nodding, and you feel the weight of her presence, steady and calming, beside you. “i’ll stay close then,” she promises softly. “don’t worry.”

—

you wake up with a low groan, feeling like you’ve just been hit by a bus. every muscle in your body aches, and your head throbs just a bit. blinking against the dim light filtering through the blinds, you sit up slowly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. you look around, trying to get your bearings. 

your gaze falls on the bowl of water beside the bed, with two rags soaking in it, and the thermometer resting on the edge. memories from before you passed out come flooding back, and your cheeks heat up at the thought of danielle sitting by your side, taking care of you. your heart does a little flip at the memory, and you shake your head, trying to steady your thoughts.

there’s no sign of her in your room. she’s not in your bed, and you exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. honestly, if you had woken up to find her next to you, you’re pretty sure your heart would’ve just exploded right then and there. 

with a bit more urgency than necessary, you get up and make your way to the living room. your steps are quiet as you peek around the corner, and there she is, curled up on the couch. she’s asleep, head resting on a pillow, her zip-up hoodie pulled over her legs like a makeshift blanket. the sight tugs at something in your chest, a mix of guilt and gratitude. she stayed the whole night.

you hurry back to your room, grabbing another blanket from your bed, and return to her side. you drape it over her carefully, making sure not to wake her. danielle shifts slightly, mumbling something you can’t quite make out. her face softens in sleep, and you find yourself smiling without meaning to. 

the morning light slips through the blinds, casting a warm glow across her face, illuminating the soft curve of her cheek, the way her lashes fan out against her skin. she looks peaceful, so pretty in the soft light, and you let yourself enjoy the sight for just a moment longer than you probably should.

you let out a small sigh and decide to leave her be, tiptoeing away quietly. but as you move, you can’t help but glance back one last time, her serene expression etched into your memory. then, feeling a strange mix of comfort and nerves, you head to your room to get yourself ready.

— 

danielle wakes up only thirty minutes after you, sitting up a minute after she’s blinked herself awake. she sits up and catches you on the floor by the coffee table, knees drawn to your chest, a bowl of fruit and two pieces of toast in front of you. her vision clears, and she catches you popping a blueberry into your mouth, scrolling absently through your phone.

"good morning..." she mutters, stretching and rubbing her eyes.

you turn at the sound of her voice, surprised to see her up already. she's quicker at waking up than you; you would have stayed in bed for another ten minutes at least, but the pounding in your head forced you up earlier. "hey, i didn’t think you’d stay the whole night."

“i just wanted to make sure you were alright," she explains, moving to sit next to you, mirroring your posture, knees tucked in. "i checked in on you during the night to change the rag on your head and everything, seems like you’re back to normal.”

“you didn’t have to, danielle,” you say, feeling a wave of gratitude mixed with embarrassment.

“but i wanted to.” she shrugs lightly, her eyes softening as she looks at you. “how are you feeling?”

“i took two advils before brushing my teeth," you say with a small smile. "feeling pretty great now.”

“i’m glad. your fever was pretty high.”

“was it?” you raise an eyebrow, grabbing a piece of strawberry and popping it into your mouth.

“yeah.” she picks a piece of kiwi from the bowl and eats it. “i was worried.”

you turn your head, meeting her gaze directly. her eyes look a bit tired, her face bare of makeup, but she still looks good—so natural, so effortlessly beautiful. a thought crosses your mind: you owe her for this, for being so kind and caring when she didn’t have to be.

";ast night i didn’t hear any loud noises from downstairs," danielle continues, “there wasn’t a party going on, and i got a little concerned.”

you chuckle, setting your phone aside, resting your cheek against your knee. “so you came because… there wasn’t a party?”

“it was pretty suspicious,” she insists with a playful grin. “then you opened the door looking like you’d just fought a bear, stumbling around. it was kind of funny, and cute.”

her compliment catches you off guard. you turn away quickly, pretending to be more interested in the fruit than you are. "thank you, danielle," you mumble. "i owe you."

“it’s nothing,” she says softly. "as long as you’re okay, that’s all that matters." her words feel like a direct hit to your heart, it’s as if cupid had a gun instead of a bow and shot you right in the chest, making you feel strangely warm and fluttery inside.

“you’re so… hey, what about your roommate? isn't she wondering where you are?”

“oh, hanni,” danielle giggles, checking her phone for any messages but finding none. “she was passed out before i left last night. it's not even ten yet, so she’s probably still asleep.” she stands up, and you rise with her, feeling a slight pang of disappointment. “but i should go check on her, and fix myself up. i probably look like a mess right now.”

you look perfect. it almost lips right off your tongue, but you manage to shut your mouth.

you lead her to the door, wishing she could stay a bit longer, just a little while more. “of course,” you say, feeling a knot tighten in your chest. “thank you again for everything.”

danielle places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “it’s nothing,” she says warmly. “i’ll see you around.”

you open the door, watching her step outside, but she turns back, hesitating. before she can say anything else, you speak first. "hey, danielle?"

“yes?”

“are you free later?”

“i’m free all day,” she replies, though she adds, “but i might run errands with hanni.”

“right, well.” you play with your hair nervously. danielle tilts her head, noticing the shift in your demeanor. “you should come over tonight. i’ll cook you dinner—to repay you, of course.”

she chuckles, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “that’s quite intimate,” she teases. “is this your way of asking me out?”

“uh—” your heart races, but you nod, swallowing hard. “yes. and i'd hope your way of accepting is… coming over around six?”

danielle's smile widens, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “i’ll see you then, as long as you’re not sick again.”

“i’d count on that if it meant having you take care of me again.”

she glances away, hiding a smile, and you catch sight of the tiny moles on her face. "you're really good at this," she says softly.

“i’m really not,” you admit, “but it’s you, so i thought i’d try a little harder.”

she rolls her eyes playfully, then steps closer and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. your skin heats up instantly, heart racing faster than before. she pulls back with a grin, waving as she says, “see you tonight, six p.m.!”

“see you…” you reply, still stunned as you watch her walk down the hall. she glances back twice, each time your smiles mirroring and growing wider.

you wonder if you should cut down on the weekly parties, maybe dedicate more time to being with her. but that might be getting ahead of yourself. for now, all you know is that you have to prepare the best dinner ever tonight—something that might just earn you another kiss, maybe on the lips this time.

[literaila]

kid megumi and gojo definitely took bubble baths together while megumi washes his hair and satoru's just yapping about how much he loves reader

“megumi,” gojo says, not even bothering to knock on the door.

it’s the boys fault, really, for leaving it open in the first place.

megumi stills, brows furrowing as his hands stop foaming the soap in his hair. “gojo?” he asks, a bit disbelieving.

he might be going crazy—it’s not uncommon for sorcerers. and megumi barely thought he would make it to fourteen and here he is, so. he should probably tell someone about the hallucinations but—

“you got it,” gojo answers, predictably, sitting on the toilet seat. “i need to talk to you.”

megumi peaks his head around the shower curtain slowly, blinking a few times to make sure the man is really there.

but he is, grinning at the tiny bit of megumi he can see, tapping his fingers on his knees obnoxiously.

megumi points a hand towards the door. “this is an invasion of privacy.”

“megumi,” gojo gives him a bland look. “i’ve seen you naked.”

“that’s creepy.”

gojo sighs, hanging his head. “we’ve known each other for so long now, and you still don’t trust me.”

“you still haven’t given me a reason to. can’t this wait? or not happen? i don’t want to talk to you.”

yes, megumi is still hanging halfway out of the shower. yes, his hair is dripping water on the floor. no, he does not care—it’s gojo’s house anyway. he can fix the ruined floorboards.

“it’s about your mother.”

at that megumi blinks. “what’d you do?“

“i didn’t do anything.”

“are you sure?”

“yes, i’m sure,” gojo scoffs, reaching out to pull his ear—which megumi expertly deflects (he almost slips and dies in the process). “am i crying on the floor right now?”

megumi considers it. then he recalls the last time you and gojo had a fight. he had to check gojo’s pulse every time he walked past the couch.

“good point. what is it?”

“as you know, her birthday is coming up—“

“are you serious?”

“megumi.” gojo’s eyes are dubious, his voice is disapproving. “your mothers birthday is very important.”

megumi rolls his eyes. “i know. i mean, are you seriously asking me about this right now? im in the shower. there’s shampoo in my hair.”

gojo nods very seriously. “it’s the only place she won’t hear.”

“she’s not even home.”

“she’s hidden cameras, megumi, i know it.”

“no she hasn’t.”

gojo pouts. “i want it to be a surprise. she always finds out about her gifts before i can give them to her.”

“that’s because you tell her.”

“the suspense is too much. i need you to buy her something for me and hide it so i don’t know what it is.”

he sounds absolutely serious, which might be the worst part of that request, actually.

and when has megumi ever done gojo a favor?

“gojo,” megumi gives him a little smirk, tilting his head. “i’m not doing that.”

gojo groans, falling onto the floor. “c’mon, megumi, we’re supposed to be friends.”

“you’re my teacher, if anything.”

“and your father,” he juts his chin, “favoritism is not cute.”

“good.”

megumi finally turns around. gojo was never going to leave, even if he’d attempted to tackle him out of the door.

and he’s used to this, anyway. there hasn’t been a day in seven years that he’s gotten some peace.

“okay,” gojo begins again, sounding like he’s won—which he hasn’t. “i was thinking some jewelry, but you know how picky she is. and besides, she’s too rough for something small. tsumiki is already getting her that chibi mug we saw in that corner store last weekend, and whatever you’re getting is off of the table too.”

“i’m not listening to this.”

“i could take her out to dinner, but that’s not a gift. and i do that anyway. maybe i should buy her a car—what kind do you think she’d like? something blue, like my eyes—“

megumi groans.

gojo pauses. “did you get soap in your eye?”

honestly, banging his head against the wall might be better than this. at least they have pain killers at the hospital.

megumi doesnt answer, no longer entertaining this, but gojo continues anyway.

“maybe we should re-do the bathroom, you know how she’s always saying that—“

god, when will it end?

[letorip]

kiss with a fist [ii]

"Blood sticks, sweat drips, break the lock if it don't fit, a kick in the teeth is good for some, a kiss with a fist is better than none"

===+++===

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: you signed up to help tara with her stupid plan. not whatever the hell one would call this.

warnings: implied sex, use of alcohol, puking, arguing loudly and wrongly, curse words(?)

word count: 5.2k

A/N: sorry to make you wait so long, but here's the second part. there will probably be a third, so fear not, the story doesn't end here. i originally thought i would be able to just end it off right here, but it’s going kind of really well and i think a third or maybe even a fourth part is more reasonable

===+++===

===+++===

For almost the entire walk to the frat house, Tara didn't actually say much. It surprised you too, the way she just glanced around the city that passed as you walked and fiddled with her nails. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, but you were so used to Tara having something to say that it made you speak instead.

"Wow, for once, you're speechless," you commented as you passed under a streetlight. Tara shot you a glare, shoving her hands into her jean pockets.

"Would it kill you to shut the hell up?"

“There we go, back to normal. Why are you being weird?”

“I’m not being weird,” she scoffed. “Mind your own business.”

"I'm just saying."

"Well don't say. Don't say."

===+++===

The party fucking sucked. It was quintessential college, with frat boys who attempted to yell over the loud music that rattled your eardrums. Coolers upon coolers of shitty, cheap beer sat against the far wall, and a crowd had gathered around them to pick off all the free alcohol they could. Maybe a year ago this would’ve been fun. Now you found yourself disenchanted with the ordeal.

Tara was off god knows where, doing god knows what, which you figured was the point of the arrangement anyway. You weren’t too concerned with tracking her down, especially if situation also presented itself as a pleasant bonus— not having to put up with her.

Chad had wandered out of the room when he saw you and Tara arrive together hand in hand, going deeper into the party without a word. He was usually the one you hung around with at these kinds of things, but he had been a sad little dog with his tail between his legs since you and Tara announced you were meant to be a few days before the party. It seemed some of your friends were still adjusting.

The immediate reaction after Tara said “soooo, we’re together,” was to laugh, like you two were doing a bit. It got less funny when they saw you both blankly staring back at them and then Tara grabbed your hand and held it up with a forced smile.

The whole group was going through a somewhat awkward seven stages of grief thing. Chad was avoiding you completely, Quinn was a bit annoyed you were off the market now after an egregious few months of hitting on you, and Ethan was the only one to be a bit normal, even though it was clear he too had a crush on Tara and was disappointed with the matter.

When Mindy had gotten over her disbelief, she dove right into an endless game of questions, only occasionally staved off by Anika. "So who confessed first?" had been one of the first ones, accompanied by a glint in her eye. Tara jumped in before you could even open your mouth, eager to answer.

"(Y/n) showed up on my porch, all sweaty and disgusting looking, just smelling so unbelievably bad it was overpowering-”

“I had been working out,” you rolled your eyes. “That’s why I was sweaty."

“Mhm, whatever. Anyways, apparently they were just being such an asshole because they were in love with me," Tara said, with a wide, shit-eating grin. "Right?"

You had to hide your glare behind your solo cup. "Mhm. I was just overflowing with it. I have so many things to say about you."

“All nice things,” Tara corrected.

“Yeah. That’s what I said.”

“Was it?”

“Uh huh.”

Mindy’s questions followed you everywhere she did. Who kissed who first? Who’s more cuddly? Have you guys slept together yet? They volleyed back and forth and you and Tara fought for the first word each time to pin it to the other with gleeful sadism. Of course, it was then flipped around once the next question came and you would huff in annoyance at the other for being an asshole.

It wasn’t as bad of an arrangement as you had dreaded. You only had to be couple-y when other people were watching you two interact, or when Sam would glare in suspicion. Hold hands a few times, smile, share a glance. Other than that, things stayed mostly the same. The group probably appreciated you both not acting head over heels for the other and you liked it because it meant you didn't have to pretend to like her.

Tara had a brazen way about her that made you roll your eyes. She never took no for an answer, had a teasing remark for anything, and always felt the need to be doing something. Other people seemed to find themselves charmed by it. Others, but not you. Never you.

The walk there had been about all she could take of your personality, and the moment after you two were seen together, she ditched you at the door and wandered off to the dance floor. After that you had lost track of her, and ended up splitting your time between the kitchen, the bathroom, and the front room, away from the crowd. Mindy found you there, tugging Anika along with her.

"Cut the bullshit," She said with an eye roll, sitting right down on the couch in front of you. Anika plopped down next to her. "There's no way in hell you got together with Tara."

You grinned, sipping your beer and partially using it to block your expression. "No, we're together. I really like her."

Mindy scoffed. "You're a terrible liar." Your cheeks warmed and you tilted your head to the side.

"We have to separate you two like warring chihuahuas every time we hang out together," Anika said. She leaned forward and narrowed her eyes in a study of your face. "You're not confessing your undying love."

"I did."

"You didn't!" Mindy said, and she threw up her arms.

"I did."

"You didn't," Anika snorted.

"I...," you looked at them both, "...are you guys going to snitch?"

"Snitch to who?" asked Mindy. Now they were both leaned in, like eager children around a campfire. You swallowed.

"Sam." Mindy blinked. Then she sat back.

"What the hell did Tara get you involved in?" she asked. As much as Sam was part of your group, it was known not to fuck with her, and that's exactly what Tara was making you do.

You frowned. If anyone was going to ruin the plan, it probably wouldn't be Mindy or Anika. "You can't tell Chad, but we're not actually together."

Anika raised her eyebrows and shot Mindy a glance. "That didn't take a lot of brain power to figure out." You shrugged.

"Well, we fooled Sam. Tara needs a fake partner so she can go to parties and see people and stuff. And, well, you know how Sam is about that stuff."

Mindy crossed her arms. "And you said sure?"

You shrugged. "I mean, I didn't really see why not. Plus, she was being super annoying about it. Showed up at my house. She was begging, almost."

"So, you what, took pity?" Anika asked, giving you a look. You rolled your eyes.

"Trust me, it's not because it's fun. She's way too annoying and she'd probably say the same thing about me."

Mindy frowned, looking out the doorway and into the booming party. "Chad wouldn't like it."

You sent her a worried look. "Please please please, don't tell Chad. I know he's upset by the whole thing, but Sam would literally kill me if she knew I was helping Tara run around town."

"I don't know...," she said. "I know Tara wants freedom, but this is kind of bullshit, (Y/n)."

"It won't be for long. She just wants to meet someone. When she does, it's over. Life goes back to normal."

"Do you guys have a target in mind, or something?" Anika asked, a bit amused.

"Not even a little a bit. It’s like, her second party ever,” you shrugged. “I don’t know if she’s really dead set on a person yet.”

“Well… she better figure it out soon.”

“Mhm.” You looked out the same glass door and into the booming party outside. Through the jumping crowd, you could see in the distance Tara, who was dancing with her eyes shut and a smile spread wide across her cheeks. She looked happy like that.

You took a swig of your beer.

===+++===

The boom of a fist on your door shook the thin walls of your apartment, and you jolted awake to hear three more hit the wood.

“OPEN UP (Y/N), NOW!”

Immediately, a headache washed over you and you groaned. You tried to smush your head into the pillow to make it go away but there were the banging fists again, and you sat up, letting your legs dangle off the edge.

“OPEN THE FUCK UP,” came the voice again, and you blinked. Oh shit. You knew that voice. You clambered to your feet and stumbled out your bedroom and down the hall in a dusty pair of shorts and shirt. “I’M NOT KIDDING! OPEN THE—”

You pulled the door open like a deer in headlights, seeing Sam seethe on the other side with her fist raised. Nostrils flared, forehead creased, eyes narrowed. She looked about ready to rip your head off.

“You,” she said, spitting the word. You flinched. “Where the fuck is Tara?!”

Shit shit shit shit shit. Had she not gone home the night before?? Things felt a little bit fuzzy still. You remembered grabbing another beer from Ethan and flopping down in an armchair, then another and another, and then maybe wandering home while the sun started to rise. Had you seriously lost track of the attempted murder victim on her first night out???

You blinked, already aware that your cheeks were a dusty pink. "I, uh... she, um..."

Her hands went to her hips, glaring at you expectantly. "Well?! Where the hell is my sister?!" When you were still staring like an idiot, she threw up her arms. "I fucking knew I shouldn't have trusted you with her! This is what I get"

You stared, feeling a lie (though probably a clunky one) come to your brain. "I think her phone must've died, but she just left."

Sam's eyebrows rose, but you weren't sure if it was in disbelief or even more rage. "What do you mean?"

"We, um," your eyes went to the floor, feeling her glare laser itself into you as you spoke. "We got super drunk last night at the party, and I brought her back here and we both fell asleep," you looked back up to see her giving your pyjamas a once over, nose wrinkled. You flushed. "No! No— we didn't do that. We just fell asleep."

Sam looked at you for a moment, then crossed her arms. "I waited all night for her, you know," she said.

You nodded. "I know. I'm so sorry, it won't happen again."

"It won't." Sam repeated. "When I don't hear from her for a whole night, you know what I assume happened, right? You know how that feels?"

You swallowed. "I do."

She sighed. "I'm really trying here. I know she doesn't want me worrying about her, and I know she wants freedom. So I'm trying, (Y/n). Don't make me regret it."

"I won't, Sam." It felt like a giant wedge in your throat, and you tried to smile at her but she continued to frown, and she turned around and walked off. The moment she was gone, you spun around and slammed the door. You dashed through your apartment, grabbing your phone off your nightstand and quickly pulling up her contact.

Little Shit (do not pick up). You pressed the button and put it up to your ear, wandering over to the nearby curtain and lifting it to look out onto the city. "Come on, come on," you pleaded aloud. "Fucking pick up, asshole."

After the third ring and a good prayer to god even though you weren't especially religious, it stopped ringing and you could hear her grumbling.

"Tara??" you rushed. "Tara, where are you?"

"Mmm," she groaned, "the hell do you want so early?"

You scoffed. "Tara it's almost noon." There was a pause on the other end of the line.

"What?"

"Uh huh," you grunted. "Your sister just almost ripped my door off it's fucking hinges because she doesn't know where you are. And you know what, neither do I!" There was some shuffling from her end, and then what sounded like running footsteps.

"I went home with this girl last night, I just woke up," she rushed. "Sam is going to kill me!"

"She almost killed me!" You almost yelled into the phone. Now that the worry had subsided you were left with anger. "She almost killed me because you wandered off and didn't go home."

"It's not like I meant to fall asleep," she argued back, and you could hear some talking in the background in faint voices. "I must've slept through my alarm— wait, what did you tell Sam?"

"That your phone died, and you were on your way home."

"WHAT?! (Y/n), this girl's apartment is at least fifteen to twenty minutes away," Tara said into the phone.

"Well it's not like I knew that, now is it?" you shot back, scratching your arm, "considering I didn't know if you were even alive until you picked up."

"God, not you too. I'm fine, drama queen."

"Drama queen?"

"Yeah, drama queen," Tara repeated, and more noises flooded in. It sounded as if she was in the city now, walking, "you sound just like Sam. I picked you because I thought you knew I didn't need a babysitter."

"That's not being babysat, Tara. That's making sure you're not dead," you rolled your eyes.

"Well, I'm not."

"Good."

"Great."

"Fine!" you shot back.

"Awesome."

You sighed into the speaker. "Pick up some flowers or something on your way back. Claim that's why you're late."

"Good idea, actually," Tara hummed.

"I know." And you hung up.

===+++===

You found yourself at an identical party the very next Friday night too, and the Friday after that, and after that too. The walls were just as stained. It smelled just as full of mold. This one didn't have a front room for you to barricade in, so you sat at the bar top instead, in the kitchen with your chin rested on the cool granite.

It had taken a whole night to get rid of the hangover from a few weeks before, and in doing so you had remembered why it was exactly that you didn't find these things too fun, anyways. You hadn't gotten anywhere near as drunk since. Mindy and Anika had decided on date night instead, and Chad and Ethan were off to watch a movie that originally you would've been invited to, had it not been for Tara.

It was painful, that Chad was ducking you. The irony wasn't lost, that the more time you spent with your fake girlfriend at parties and outings like a couple, the closer you got to actually repairing your relationship with him. You still would've rather gone to the movie, though.

You could actually see Tara, from where you sat. Through the bar window in the kitchen, she was on the dance floor, moving along with the rhythm of hard EDM as best she could. It was a giant mob of people, all clumped up and hopping around in excitement, and you didn't especially want to be out there.

As you watched, a guy came up behind Tara, tapping her on the shoulder and smiling down at her. You thought nothing of it, until you got a longer look at the guy's face. In the revolving, multicoloured lights that hung over the crowd, you recognised him in an instant, standing straight up and weaving your way through the party.

"You having fun, Carpenter?" He asked, with a douche-y smirk on his face as he said it. You rolled your eyes, coming up behind Tara and standing right behind her.

"I—" but you interrupted her.

"She is, Frankie," you shot, staring at him and crossing your arms. Tara whipped around to you with a glare.

"(Y/n), go away," she whispered loudly. But you stood your ground.

"Tara, literally anyone but him. I mean, anyone—"

"That's not your decision."

"Sam tased him in the balls last time. I mean, come on, you have to know he's a douche."

Frankie scoffed. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

"(Y/n) is just a—"

"—We're dating," you interrupted again. "So fuck off."

"No, we aren't," Tara shook her head. "Not really."

"Yes, we are," you nodded at Frankie. "Please leave. She's not sleeping with you tonight." He frowned, but started to walk off.

"That's not your decision, asshole!" Tara scowled and she reached out an arm to stop him. "Frankie, stay. You know what, I wasn't going to, but I will now."

"Frankie, leave. I mean it, you creep." You turned to her and glared. "Tara, listen to me, you—"

"No! Frankie, stay. Maybe I need the company," she shot back, narrowing her eyes. Frankie looked between you both, as did a few other people in the room who were starting to notice.

"They literally call him Date-Rape-Frankie, Tara. There's no way in hell you're sleeping with Date-Rape-Frankie. Frankie, leave."

"Frankie, no, stay. Well, what if I want to?"

"Then you're being stupid."

"Bold choice of words coming from you! You're not my mother."

"I'm not trying to be your mom, Tara. I'm using basic common sense. That guy is a creep and a perv," you pointed to him.

"Hey!" Frankie interjected, raising a hand to your shoulder.

"Fuck off!" you and Tara said in unison, dismissing him to glare right at each other.

"Well maybe I deserve the freedom to sleep with weirdos and whoever I want! I mean, who are you, the fucking sex-Nazi?"

"I don't have a problem with literally anyone else, Tara, but he's a weirdo!"

"Well then let me make that call! I'm not five. You don't need to baby me, I know he's a weirdo!" People were definitely staring now. You were both shouting, but a lot of it was drowned out by the EDM. It didn't stop others watching you point in each others faces and scowl.

"It's not babying you, Tara! It's basic caring! You have no clue about this shit, this is like your fourth party ever!"

"I've managed this far, haven't I?!"

"What, you want a cookie?!"

"Yeah, maybe I fucking do! I'm an adult, asshole! Let me do adult shit!"

"Wow, it's so adult and mature of you, to sleep with creeps and get hungover every Friday. How adult."

"Well, maybe it's not, but who gives a shit! I'm having fun for once! I'm being free without a fucking serial killer on my ass! I know you can't relate, but Christ, take the stick out from your ass!"

"Real nice," you shook your head. "This is what I get for helping you. Of fucking course." Before she could reply, you turned around and headed out the sliding glass door, into the fenced-in backyard. There was a pool back there, and you collapsed into a wrought iron pool chair, right near the edge.

People watched you warily, as you sat out there, but within minutes, the party was resumed. Even from outside, you could hear the thumping bass shake the windows gently as the glass moved in the panes.

There was a faint scent of petrichor from the small patch of grass out there, and the sky rumbled in the distance. It was peaceful out there, with small hanging fairy lights and the pool in front of you. You propped your legs up on the glass table and tried not to scream.

This was exactly what you should've expected, from Tara. Of course she would be selfish. Of course she would be brash. A part of you wasn't surprised. Disappointed, sure. But not surprised. You just sat there and tried to cool your breathing, watching the city lights in front of you.

You must've sat like that for an hour or two, just watching the city. It didn't feel like long enough. You might've even felt at peace, until you felt a hand on your shoulder.

"Um...excuse me?" You craned your neck around, looking up in your chair to see a concerned guy looking down at you.

"Are you (Y/n)?" He asked, awkwardly scratching his neck. You nodded, confused.

"Uh, yeah? Do we know each other?"

"No! No, I was asked by Tara, I think was her name? She wanted me to get you. She's your girlfriend, right?"

The worry came back, and you stood up. "Why, what happened? Where is she?" Sam was really going to kill you.

"She's in the guest bathroom, I think she's sick."

===+++===

"Tara?"

"(Y/n)?" you heard a very uneasy voice on the other end.

"Can I come in?" you asked, and when there was no response, you let yourself inside. She was on the other end of the massive bathroom, leaned up against the bathtub with her head close to the toilet bowl.

Tara looked absolutely green, with her hair sweatily stuck to her forehead and eyes barely open. "Christ Tara, how much did you have to drink?" you asked in worry, coming to stand over her.

"Oh, just—" she gagged like she was about to puke and you bent down to grab her and tug her towards the toilet bowl. You spun back to the guy in the doorway, who stared at you both with wide eyes.

"Can you get me some crackers and Gatorade?" you asked him, sending a hopeful glance. He nodded and closed the door, and you turned back to Tara, who was bent over the toilet bowl.

You moved her gently and lifted the toilet seat up. "Are you okay?" you asked with a frown. You felt like an idiot the moment it left your mouth.

She raised her eyebrows. "Do I look okay?" Tara mumbled.

"Well, no."

"Thass' good," she slurred. "I had too many," she hiccupped. You nodded.

"I'd say so. How much did you have Tara?"

She giggled. "This many." She held up four fingers with a giant, toothy grin and slumped with her arms encircling the toilet bowl.

"Since when?" you blinked.

"Since you got allllllllll pissy!" You sighed, hands going to her hair and pulling it back. She wrinkled her nose at you. "Why are you touching my hairrrrr?!"

"So you don't vomit all on it, idiot," you replied, shaking your head. Tara huffed.

"I'mnuh gonnuh puke."

And then Tara puked. Everywhere.

===+++===

You both sat there, that way, for about ten minutes. Tara vomited three times, during that span, and when she was done, you handed her the crackers and Gatorade and told her to do her worst.

She downed them in another fifteen minutes, sitting in the bathtub and eating while you sat leaned up against the bathroom wall, across from her, just in silence. The sounds of the party seemed to have died a little bit as the night droned on, and by now people would be wandering home or to someone else’s place.

While you waited, you shot Sam a text, letting her know you’d bring Tara home and that she was okay. Sam didn’t reply but she saw the message, and you figured that was good enough. When you checked the weather app, Tara finally spoke, coming to her senses a bit with more food in her system.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, staring down at the package for the crackers in her hand. “Thanks.”

You shrugged, staring at the toilet in front of you. It probably reeked in there, but at this point you were nose blind. “For what?” You meant for that to be it, just a small little acknowledgment, but Tara shook her head.

“Thank you for that. For being here.”

She stared right at you when she said it, and you knew she meant it with conviction. You nodded. “I know we don’t always get along, but I had your back, back there.”

“You have my back?” she asked, smiling a little and grabbing her Gatorade from the edge of the tub.

“I agreed to help you, didn’t I?”

She paused for a moment, then nodded. “You did, yeah.” Tara looked over at you, then tilted her head to the side. “I still don’t get why, though.”

“You were honest, for once.” It came from a surprising place, and you said it before you entirely knew you were speaking. You didn’t completely know what it meant either, until after you said it, but the words passed between you almost like a new understanding.

A few moments of silence came and went, before she spoke again. “I walk silently places at night in case I hear I’m being followed. By Ghostface. Same thing as when I’m home alone. I don’t do it as much anymore, but I still do it sometimes. Don’t tell Sam, please please please. She’ll make me go to therapy.”

“Okay,” you said, nodding gently. You leaned your head back up against the wall, craning it up to look at the ceiling.

“Why are you being nice to me?” She asked. You laughed, tracing the popcorn pattern of the roof with your eyes.

“I’m not the devil, Tara.”

“…Neither am I.”

“I know,” you said, and you reached your arm out for a cracker. She gave you one and you crunched down on it, while an especially large bass hit came from the speakers outside. “God, this music fucking sucks,” you groaned.

Tara nodded. “It’s really hard to dance to.”

“Well,” you shrugged, “it didn’t seem like you were struggling earlier.”

Tara frowned, then tilted her head in curiosity. “What’s your favourite song?”

You raised your eyebrows in amusement. “Why?”

“Just wondering,” she said.

“Okay… you’re going to laugh, though.”

“Am I?” she grinned. You nodded.

“Do you know that one song, The Promise, by When In Rome? It’s from the 80s, it’s super cheesy?”

She stared off for a moment, in thought, then shook her head. “Don’t think so, how’s it go?”

You rolled your eyes, but began to quietly sing it in a tone that wavered in between spoken word and humming. It was terrible and you were tone deaf, but it was the song. “If you need a friend, don’t look to a straaanger. You know in the end,” your voice broke a little at the low note, and Tara giggled but you continued, “I’ll always be thereee.”

“Wow.”

“Mhm. And then it skips a little bit and the chorus goes, ‘I’m sorry but I’m just thinking of the right words to say, I know they don’t sound the way I planned them to beee.’”

She cut you off with her hand, laughing hysterically. You felt your cheeks flushed, and in any other time you would’ve been annoyed with her laughing at you. But this didn’t feel mean. You just smiled right back.

“That was good, actually,” she managed, between small laughs. “Why is it your favourite?”

“Um,” you shrugged, “my brother used to sing it to me, years ago when I was scared.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Tara said, leaning her head on the tile wall of the tub.

“I have six.”

She blinked, then sat up straight. “Since when?!”

“Always, Carpenter,” you shrugged. “Everyone knows.”

“Everyone who?”

“Chad, Mindy, Anika. Even Quinn.”

“I didn't know. How come you never talk about them?”

”I just don’t,” you frowned. Tonight was definitely not the night to get into that. Instead, you pivoted topics. “Why, what’s your favourite song? I showed you mine, now you’ve got to show me yours.”

“I’m ninety nine percent sure that’s not how that saying is used,” she laughed, “but fine. When I was crying as a baby, my mom sung me this song, called Baby, I Love You by The Ronettes.”

“Don’t think I���ve heard of it.”

Tara shook her head. “Probably not, but they’re the same group that does that one song Be My Baby?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Apparently my mom had Baby, I Love You playing in the hospital, when I was born and everything. It’s kind of comforting. When I miss her, I play it.”

“How often is that?”

She shrugged. “More than you’d think, considering she’s a giant asshole.”

"That's always how it is."

"Mhm... and just so you know, I know Frankie was a creep. I wasn't actually going to do anything with him. Just flirt. Have fun."

"I know. I wasn't trying to babysit you, I just wanted to warn you. That creep has so many stories."

"I know. I just don't like being told what to do, sometimes. It's a whole thing. I'm working on it, seriously."

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you didn’t say anything at all. You both sat in what you assumed was a prolonged silence, until you looked down finally to see Tara’s eyelids falling heavy.

You stood up with a sigh. “You should go home.” There was no reply, and you checked out the small window in the bathroom to still see it was pitch black out. It was definitely too late to send her home this sleepy, and after the incident a few weeks ago, there was no way Sam would let her stay at yours. “Tara,” you nudged her.

She groaned, rolling over in the tub and snuggling up. You rolled your eyes, then looked out the window one more time with an annoyed grumble.

===+++===

The longer you had to walk with her on your back, the more you regretted this. Her arms were wrapped around your neck, face pressed onto the back of your shoulder and knees held up by your hands. You couldn’t see her, but you knew her eyes were shut and she was super close to being actually asleep.

"We make a good team, you know," she mumbled into your shoulder. You knew she was being funny, but you were too tired to laugh as you trudged up the hill. Carrying a drunk girl home was not at all what you had anticipated of the night, and though it had been shitty at the beginning and shitty until almost the very end, you could definitely say it wasn't shitty right then.

When you arrived at her apartment complex, Tara was soundly asleep and Sam came out to meet you both, taking her sister from you and stumbling with her towards the door. In the distance, right over another hill, the sky was already beginning to lighten up a bit.

Right as both Carpenters reached the door, Tara stopped for a moment to turn back to you with a smile. "Thanks, babe," she said with a cheeky grin that was only half awake. You smiled back.

"You too, babe."

Sam rolled her eyes, pulling Tara through the door. It was a pleasant night, still with the same faint scent of rain oncoming. In your weird, newfound peace as you walked home yourself, you didn't see that Quinn was watching you from the upstairs window.

===+++===

so that was fun lmao. anyways there will be a part 3 but you and tara are kind of maybe friends now? now it's time for feelings 😈