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totally-not-a-fae · 1 year

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SLC Punk! relationship headcanons

Stevo

-He'd be very uncertain about going into the relationship, because he would be scared that it would end badly.

-He goes into the relationship not expecting you to stay with him for a long time so it takes a while for him to realize the fact that you like him as more than just a friend with benefits.

-No matter how long you've been dating physical affection is always something to expect, Stevo is a very touchy guy so even while doing something mundane he'll still be holding your hand, leaning on you, he'd have his arm around your waist or shoulders, etc.

-When you're around him and his friends he's always extremely close to you, especially if its with Mark, Stevo likes Mark and all but Mark has a tendency to snap and Stevo doesn't want you getting hurt, even accidentally.

-Your parents probably aren't to jazzed by the idea of him and probably won't like him at first but his charisma would win them over.

-Stevo will constantly be complaining to you about his parents and how they just don't understand him.

-He'd help you dye your hair, but the color after probably wouldn't be even.

-He likes customizing random jackets with you and if you don't feel like customizing one at some point or you aren't there he'll make one for you or give you one of his old ones.

-If he gets too hurt while beating the shit out of rednecks, if he got hurt in a mosh pit, or a fight at a party, anywhere really, he'd want you to help clean or treat his wounds even though he could do it himself.

-Matching 666 tattoos to scare the people of Wyoming.

-You'd get a lot of stares in public, even if you aren't punk and it's just Stevo who's punk. Stevo would always retaliate by yelling at them, only causing more people to give you weird looks.

-You've been kicked out of 5+ establishments because of Stevo acting out, throwing something at someone or just yelling too much.

-He would wear whatever clothing of yours would fit him, what do you mean that was your favorite shirt? Well its his favorite now.

-He'd give you small gifts, he's not one to just buy expensive things for someone out of the blue but if he sees an accessory or a piece of clothing you'd like he'd get it for you.

-Whenever you go out to Wyoming to get beer for a party you'd both put on shitty fake accents just for fun.

Mark

-He would be skeptical of you at first, thinking maybe you just like him for his money.

-When he realizes you're genuinely into him, god, you could never get rid of him. He is always with you, always, you barely get time alone anymore.

-Mark would be extremely jealous and protective of you, he'd also be controlling and probably would try to stop you from hanging out with certain people because he thinks they're into you. Even if you tell him they're just a friend he'd never let you be alone with them, often telling you they're untrustworthy and they're trying to take you from him.

-Always has his gun with him if you two leave the house to go to one of Stevo's parties and sometimes just when you go out as he feels its to keep you safe, although you insist you'd rather he'd not bring it.

-He'd offer to buy you things but if you said you didn't want or need him to buy you things he'll still do it.

-At parties he wouldn't let you fight in the crowd alone, even though he hates seeking out pain, he'd join you if you were having fun as to fight is to be alive.

-When you're out with him he'd insist you never bring a jacket of your own as you prefers you to always be wearing his when you're out together or even at home.

-Stevo wouldn't understand how you'd be able to deal with his insanity as he's always on the verge of snapping but Mark tries to be more calm around you, though I can't promise he won't have his moments of craziness.

-He isn't big on PDA, he simply sees no point in it, however if he sees someone else hitting on you he'd get upset and if he's been in a good mood that day he'd just silently stand next to you with his arm around your waist, often throwing passive aggressive insults at the other person in a joking tone despite him being serious. If he's been in a bad mood or he's had a bit too much to drink he would get audibly upset and I can't promise gun related threats won't be screamed at whoever it was who was hitting on you.

-He loves talking to you about all the cool shit he owns and he'd get slightly upset when you stop paying attention.

-He often has nightmares of the plane crash from when he was 5 so you try your best to comfort him about it.

-When he goes to visit his family's graves he takes you with him, you're the only person he's ever taken to see them and the only person he ever will because he trusts you most.

-Always telling you his crazy conspiracy theories, you can't help but laugh because of how seriously he takes this.

-You're parent's love him

-On most weekends he prefers to just lay around on the couch with you to smoke weed but sometimes he enjoys going to parties, even if he doesn't want to go but you do he'll go.\

Bob

-He absolutely adores you, he never shuts up about you, Stevo's absolutely sick of it but he rarely tells him to stop because Stevo probably wasn't even paying attention in the first place.

-On the extremely rare occasion that he goes to the doctor, he'll only agree to go if you come with him. When you're there he'll either insist you hold his hand to get a shot or you'd have to hold him down so he doesn't attack a doctor.

-After going to a doctor he'd be agitated and in a bad mood for the rest of the day, and probably the next day but you try to reason with him and tell him that he needed to go for his own health, you end up agreeing to disagree.

-If you are at your house and decide to drink you'd have to cover your mirrors or make sure that he wont be able to see them.

-If he does end up punching and breaking one of your mirrors he'd continuously apologize and go on about how he's gonna have seven years of bad luck, he's broken many but every time its the same and you'd have to treat the cuts on his hands so he doesn't have to go back to the hospital again.

-When he was originally in quarantine at the hospital you were the only person to visit him frequently, you were the one to help him decorate the room with black tape.

-You're his go to person when he's upset or having a mental breakdown over his father so you learn how to comfort him pretty quickly and its likely that he'd been drinking so you make sure he can't drink for the rest of the day.

-If you end up doing acid with Stevo Bob would blame Stevo for making you do it with him, even if it was your choice, Bob would complain the entire time and give both you and Stevo the silent treatment for around a day.

-Whenever you attend a concert or go see a band play, both you and Bob hop up on stage to fight the band for no reason.

-He has only ever taken you to meet his father once and will never take you back because he fears for you safety.

-After the visit to his father he had a pretty rough time dealing with it, he refused to attend parties or go out with friends for a week. He would apologize for putting you through that and he would be upset with himself for risking your safety, even if you convinced him that you were okay and that it was nothing he'd still beat himself up over it.

-You're parents are okay with him, they don't want him around a lot though so you'd often have to sneak him into your room so you could hang out.

-If you live alone he'd prefer to spend time at your place as he feels there's nothing for you to do at his.

-He often expresses his appreciation for you, through words mainly but sometimes it's through physical affection.

-He loves listening to music with you, even if the music was made by posers.

-You and him enjoy beating up rednecks and skinheads with everyone else but you only help sometimes, you mainly keep watch for police to help the others

Mike

-He was the one to ask you out, sure, he was nervous but he was really glad he asked.

-He gives you flowers or plants to take care of, even though he'll help and probably the main person taking care of them.

-He attends ALL of Stevo's parties so you also attend a lot but there are occasions where you don't go with and have to deal with a drunk or high Mike coming home late at night and probably having to deal with a tall, very drunk man crying to you about saving plants.

-He's an extremely caring guy but he's also a little crazy, he'll go around one night with you, smashing in windshields of cars for fun, vandalizing shit and just causing chaos in the street. If the police are able to catch the two of you he'll help break the windshield of the car to escape.

-Once you're back at his place he'll make sure you didn't get cut by any of the glass and make sure the cops didn't hurt you too bad.

-If he sees someone bothering you he won't hesitate to beat the shit out of them, he won't even consider a second option, he WILL fight them and because of his height and strength he always wins.

-If you try to convince him that you could handle it yourself and he doesn't need to attack people, he'll listen and he'd he consider your feelings towards how he behaves. He'll try to stop, instead he'd try telling that person off, if they listen nothing will go wrong, however, if they continue they will wake up tomorrow with a lot of new bruises and scars.

-He's very gentle towards you though, he cares an awful lot and is always worried about your wellbeing.

-He's the one who cooks in your house, but on nights you come home from parties or nights where he's out you'll just order pizza and end up eating cold pizza in the morning.

-He likes just watching movies with you, although he probably falls asleep half way through.

-He is the big spoon more often than not, but he does like being held on rare occasions.

-He's always telling you plant facts because you're the only one who'll listen

-The two of you move to Notre dame together but study different majors.

-The poor boy would always be under a lot of stress

#slc punk #Stevo Levy #heroin bob #x reader #x fem!reader #x gn reader #x gn!reader #x male!reader #headconon #slc punk x reader

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mammonsturtle · 2 years

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Chronicles of a Fallen Warrior

-You Get What You Deserve-

A quick Mammon angst while I figure out how I want to outline the next part of All We Do. Maybe this will be a series of angst standalones with Mammon? Please read with caution! CW: Mentions of physical and verbal abuse, blood, attempted murder/suicidal thoughts, bodily harm

“Lucifer!! Mammon stole my limited edition Ruri-chan figurine! Damn scumbag’s going to sell it on Dbay!”

“Has anyone seen the rare manuscript Solomon lent me? Don’t tell me Mammon stole it to sell it. I’ll wring him by his neck when he gets back!”

“I bet that bastard stole my Hellion No.666 perfume collection! I’ll have him know that it only comes out once every 666 years!”

“Who ate my Haunted Burgers and my RIP Burgers?!?!” The sound of the kitchen about to fall about again was going to go down if he wasn’t appeased.

“I can’t find my memory foam pillow from the human world. Of course he stole it. Geez, what a bother.”

This should have been normal by now, but with the heavy workload given by Diavolo and the deadline soon approaching, an irrate Lucifer finally slammed his pen down. Seeing how Mammon was the only brother not present, it was safe to assume that he was hiding out elsewhere since he committed all the thefts from his brothers.

Finding his upset and agitated brothers at his office doors, Lucifer huffs and rubs his temples. “Mammon’s not here is he?” he asks as it seemed tying him up wasn’t going to suffice, “Very well, we have to punish Mammon together when he gets back. Does that sound fair?” he inquires as his brothers all nod in agreement.

His brothers would have a chance to be Lucifer for a few moments, and it was safe to say it was terrifying at best.

“I can’t wait to get my hands on Mammon!”

“If this doesn’t beat any sense him, I don’t know what will.”

“Does anyone know his tender spots?”

“He deserves it after all.”

The moment the front door opened, the brothers were ready to pounce on Mammon as they made their way to the entrance. They would have, had it not been the wind that carried the smell of blood to the six brothers. It might as well been a curse that they could smell blood, Mammon’s blood was quite strong as the second born made his way in.

Heavy footsteps echoed against the marble floor as Mammon’s dull ocean blue eyes met the shocked looks of his brothers. Who, in turn gazed upon the state of their brother. His snow white hair was caked with blood and dirt, along with his clothes being torn and covered with blood and dirt as well. No one said a thing before Beelzebub meekly broke the silence, “...Mammon?” Mammon gave his little brother a look before his eyes closed and his body gave out.

Everything had gone black, but luckily for Mammon, he wouldn’t feel his body hit the floor.

It was safe to say with all the brothers, any desire to punish Mammon had quickly dissipated as they wanted answers of how the Avatar of Greed ended up in this state. It wasn’t pretty but the brothers all joined in helping Mammon heal, and it had been decided that he’d stay in Lucifer’s room.

As Beel gently placed Mammon on the bed, a grimace was plastered as the smell of his brother’s blood turned his stomach into knots. Asmo and Belphie were to help with making him comfortable, as Belphie leant Mammon one of his best pillows. While Asmo would clean him up and much to their shock, found multiple claw marks, gashes and stab wounds littered across his chest and neck area.

“I....I can’t do this..” Asmo trembled as his hand with the cleaning rag shook, any feeling of wanting to punish Mammon for the theft offense was long gone. He knew he always insulted his older brother and wished harm to him. But when it actually came true, especially like this. He wished he could take it all back.

“It’s fine Asmo, I’ll patch him up.” Satan told him as he took the rag, bodily harm was nothing new to him and he knew how to patch up his brother. Asmo silently nodded as he decided to clean up his brother’s hair, the blood and mud by now had been dried and stiff.

The brothers were mostly quiet as Satan had bandaged up Mammon, and Leviathan had come back with a fresh set of Mammon’s clothes, “....How bad is it?” he questions quietly as the bloodied bandages spoke for themselves.

“I know Mammon’s an idiot and his schemes always land him in trouble, but...I’ve never seen Mammon this badly injured.” Satan seethed quietly as he stood to clean his hands of the blood, it was easy to feel the wrath roll off from his shoulders.

Gazing at his sleeping brother’s form, guilt bubbled in his stomach as he went over and drew the blanket over him. As if the fall was happening again, he closes his eyes and gently stroked his hair. “Let him rest, I will inform Lord Diavolo. Once we get the green light, we will do away with the assailants.”

It seemed no one was interested in dinner as Lucifer walked out of the room for a moment to call Diavolo. The brothers were quiet before Beelzebub was the first to speak up. He cleared his throat as all the brothers gazed upon him as he looked like a dog that had been scolded.

“About my burgers...I got a text from the restaurants that I forgot them there...Mammon didn’t do anything.” The sixth born told them guiltily as he didn’t even look like he wanted to go and get his beloved burgers. If anything, he’d wanted to get them so that he could them to Mammon. It wouldn’t fix anything, but he wanted his big brother to feel better, even just a little.

Belphie slowly nodded as he looked as guilty as his brother, “Erm. I found my pillow, it was in the attic with my other pillows.” he mumbled as he fiddled with the hem of his cow pillow, and looked to the other brothers if their missing things were still with them. That pillow though, Belphie remembers that Mammon gave to him as a gift from the human world, he knew despite all the crap he’s put through, he still thought well of his baby brother.

Satan scanned his brothers on who would speak up next, but sighed in defeat as he spoke next. “I got a call from Solomon, it turns out he has that manuscript. And that I had already gotten all I needed from it, a week ago.” he admitted as he frowned, his heart aching for his brother, the one who first took him in after their fall. Yet the need to go on a rampage on those who had put him in his current state, he couldn’t shake that off.

Seeing Satan speak up, Asmo fiddled with his black scarf and let out a heavy sigh. “I found my perfume...it was muddled with last night’s party favors.” he mumbled as he chewed his lip in thought. Somewhere along the collection of makeup and perfume, he had found several Devilstyle magazines where he and Mammon where on the covers, wishing he could have the confidence to actually be proud that Mammon was his brother.

Looking down, Levi twiddled his thumbs as he spoke next. “My figurine...It was actually in my room, it was just there among the Azukon packages.” he mumbled, feeling shame for what he was going to do. “...I was going to trash Mammon’s room in order to find it...” he admitted as it would have been for nothing, and for Mammon to see his room in his weakened state would have not made him feel better.

With everything off the younger brothers’ chest, Lucifer had come in, “I’ve made a call to Diavolo, he’s willing to let me off my duties for the time being. He will assist in finding those responsible for Mammon’s attempted murder.” he informed his brothers as they all quietly nodded and headed off to get some sleep.

As if any of them could actually find refuge in sleep, not with the underlying thought of their brother suffering by himself.

Expecting the cold slab of the street against his face, Mammon’s eyes shot open in the dark as he realized he was in the warm comfort of Lucifer’s bed. Along with Belphie’s best pillow and Leviathan’s special Ruri-chan blanket. As he could see in the dark, he noticed his instant noodle bowls on the nightstand, some Harrison Porter books, and a makeup kit.

And there in the chair near the bed, was Lucifer asleep by his side. Was he watching over him while he rested?

This should have made him feel better. But it didn’t.

Staring at the ceiling, the gestures by his brothers felt strange to him. They had never shown him any kindness towards him, especially something as gratuitous as the things before his eyes. He winces as the wounds were still fresh as he shimmies himself out of the blanket.

Mammon was conflicted, he wanted to accept their sudden kindness towards him but would they continue to show him kindness? Or would they choose to show it every time he had fucked up so badly to the point where he nearly got himself killed?

They always did say that he always got what he deserved, why would this be any different? It was always how his sin always got him into trouble, yet he never called out his brothers on their’s. It didn’t feel right to him, and he needed to leave the room. They’d never show it to him again unless he’d actually be close to the edge.

However, stumbling out of bed was enough for Lucifer to stir from his slumber and a now awake Lucifer spotted Mammon at the door, and rose from his seat to drag him back, “Mammon! You ought to be resting.” he asserted, and as calmly as he could, grabbed Mammon by his arm.

The response was not what Lucifer was expecting as Mammon recoiled from his touch, and like a cornered animal, lashed back at him. Mammon’s fist colliding across the eldest face as Lucifer stumbled back. Hearing footsteps on the other side, Mammon kept the door locked as he stared down at his brother.

Rubbing his cheek, a bit of pride was hurt. He couldn’t remember Mammon raising a hand against him, not even once as the second born always chose not to fight back. “What’s gotten into you Mammon?” Lucifer calmly questioned as he raised his eyebrow at the second born, to think that he had the gall to strike his brother.

Mammon groaned lowly as he was very much in pain, yet he glared at the brother he so admired the most. “Cut the shit. All of you!” he nearly snarled as he slammed his fist against the door, hearing a yelp or two from his little brothers on the other side.

“Aren’t you going to tell me how much I deserved this?! How it’s always my fault that shit happens to all of us?!” Mammon yelled at the eldest, “How much I’ve disgraced you and your stupid pride? And the rest of ya!” Mammon slammed his fist against the door as a hole formed as the little brothers could now hear him clearly.

Lucifer had tried to a calm and steely gaze upon Mammon despite his heart starting to ache from the apparent mistrust from his favorite brother. Who, decided to elaborate as his face twisted with contempt as his fists balled, his nails digging deep into his palms. “Mammon please stop-”

“Shut up ya pompous peacock! When have you all ever showed me kindness?! Never!” Mammon was sure tears were forming, but he didn’t care as he stared at Lucifer in disbelief and he scowled at the thought of his brothers showing him kindness, it was almost sickening. “You think I’d believe you’d all be a little kinder to me after this? Ya’ll are stupid!!”

“I’ve given so much to you all, and what do I get in return? I get to be everyone’s whipping boy don’t I? My point of existence is just to be entertainment for everyone to enjoy isn’t?” Mammon seethed as his brothers were quiet, a rare sight for Mammon to fight back, clearly he had enough of them.

He scoffed as he let out a defeated chuckle, “If I knew this was the family I’d have after we fell, I would have never followed you Lucifer.” he confessed, staring Lucifer straight into the eyes, and for a moment, the proud elder brother was guilty and horrified. “Maybe if you’d all let me die, I’d be lucky enough to go back to the Celestial Realm. And never see any of you again for as long as I live.”

Mammon didn’t give any of them a chance to speak out as he shifted into his demon form. And even in his weakened state, he was still the fastest demon in the Devildom. He flew out from Lucifer’s room by breaking through the window, but even the glass shattering wasn’t enough to stir the brothers from their thoughts.

Lucifer and his brothers could only stand in shock as a thick silence filled the air once more, after all, they got what they deserved, didn’t they?

A/N : Thank you if you’ve read this far! The next chapter of All We Do will be next and I might do more Mammon angst stories in between my main series. Thank you again for reading!

#my writing #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me angst #obey me mammon angst #mammon angst #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub #obey me asmodeus #triggering themes #pls read with care

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mlmxreader · 1 year

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Grace (I Think I'm In Love Again) | William Guarnere x m!reader

@satan-incarnate-666 asked: can i req guarnere x m!reader fluff inspired by this song pls? ty hehe

summary: you and Bill take some time to actually be together, but with war looming overhead, you both know it won't be forever.

tws: swearing, smoking, mentions of death

Grace, on the first night I saw your face

On the outside of cyberspace

I emerged from a haunted place

I think I'm in love again

It was a cold night, most of the lads were sheltered in their bunks with thin blankets draped over their shoulders as they cuddled into coarse pillows, it was too cold to bother to use the weekend passes that they had been given; but in Easy Company's little spot, there was an empty bed. And when Pervern, the air marshal for the RAF, checked - there was an empty bed amongst the pilots, too.

You eclipse me

Our lips meet

Make my heart beat

In the backseat of your car

I think I'm in love again

Sat in the backseat of a borrowed vehicle which bared the colours and stripes and markings of the RAF, you and Bill were too wrapped up in the cuddles and kisses and companionship you had to bother to look up at the skies; it felt like you had fallen in love with him all over again when you pulled away, and noticed how the stars glittered in his eyes. Breathless, you smiled.

Make my heart beat

In the dark we fall apart

I think I'm alone again

"I don't think I wanna go back," Bill mused, gently tracing your jaw as he tilted his head to the side. He could feel the thundering of his own heart as it battered his ribs. "Can't we just stay here?"

You hummed, leaning in to steal another quick kiss, your arm draped over the back of the seats as you shook your head and licked your lips; you didn't want to go either, but you knew you had a duty to fulfill, you knew that there were bigger problems than being apart for just one night. "You know that I wish we could, Billy."

You light my fire, I breathe you in

You get me higher than I've ever been

Bill didn't want to leave, he really didn't, and as he leaned forward to bury his face against your neck, he couldn't stop himself from breathing in your scent; he wanted to make it last, he wanted to remember that scent when he was in foxholes and being shot at. A small creature comfort.

Make my heart beat

In the backseat of your car

I think I'm in love

You put your hand on the back of his neck, keeping him close as you sniffled and swallowed thickly; you couldn't think of anything to say, you know that it was only a matter of time until you were both doomed to be apart for the remainder of the war, perhaps the remainder of your lives, there was nothing to say that would be of comfort.

"I love you."

Oh-oh-oh

I think I'm in love again

Oh-oh-oh

I think I'm in love

Tonight was supposed to remind you both of how you had fallen in love in the first place, that very first time, but now it was little more than a reminder that you were both going to be apart, that you didn't have the time that you wanted. You wouldn't. It was a sickly feeling, knowing that you would be separated and that you might not see each other again after you went up in the air and he was dropped into fuck-knew where. You didn't want to leave, you didn't want to be pulled two different directions, but you had to. There were fascists to kill, that was more important than whatever you and Bill had going on.

Killing fascists was more important than anything else.

Sleep, in a hotel room by the sea

Where I held you inside a dream

Down the long road you ride with me

Ride with me

There was a small hotel, just off the dirt road and close enough to base that you could actually spend the night there, and as you and Bill drove down that beaten dirt road, his hand found its way to your thigh as he leaned back and smoked a cigarette, letting you do all the driving; after all, it was you who had borrowed the vehicle in the first place. You didn't need to worry. You wished things were different and that little times like this were more commonplace, happened more often and that you didn't need to think about how your time would be cut so short; you wished you could take him out for rides on your Triumph, listening to the engine as he wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on your shoulder. The feeling of the wind so sharp and the smell of leather so harsh.

You eclipse me

Our lips meet

Make my heart beat

In a backseat of your car

I think I'm in love again

In the hotel room, though, it was a different story; a cold king sized bed and the feeling of Bill cuddling into you as you played with his hair and dared to steal one of his cigarettes. Letting your shadow eclipse him as your hand so gently raked through his hair and the duvet rested around his shoulders; one leg slung over your hips as he sighed and grumbled softly, hoping that you didn't feel the way his heart beat so quickly and so harshly.

Bill looked up at you once, and could have sworn that he fell in love with you all over again.

Make my heart beat

In the dark we fall apart

I think I'm alone again

The man he had met in the training fields, the pilot he had fallen in love with, and now he was doing it all over again; but those thoughts were soon overshadowed when he realised - tomorrow could be your last day together. Tomorrow, you might be asked to go and partake in a dogfight, and you might never come back. Bill knew that that was the risk he was taking, loving a pilot the way he did, he knew that he could lose you at any moment; he didn't want to be alone again, but he knew it might just happen.

You light my fire, I breathe you in

You get me higher than I've ever been

Taking the cigarette from you, Bill stole a drag, and grumbled quietly as he wriggled to sit up, resting his head on your shoulder as he sniffled. "I know we gotta fight fascists and everything but... can't you come with me? Join Easy Company?"

You shook your head, and relit the cigarette when it had gone out. "I don't think Perveen would wanna lose me to you lot."

Make my heart beat

In the backseat of your car

I think I'm in love

Bill swallowed thickly, breathing out a harsh stream of light grey smoke as he sighed. "Can't you ask him?"

"No," you laughed softly. "Bill, I love you more than anything..."

"But?"

"But you know where I belong," you said quietly. "You know I belong to the RAF first and foremost."

Remember days of elation, nights so divine

Tested your patience, you tested mine

There's no replacement

You couldn't change my mind

(Change my mind)

"At least we'll always have nights like this," he shrugged.

He was right, you knew that; even when you would be apart, even when you would be separated, you and Bill would always have the nights like tonight that you had together. You would always have the little arguments over whether rugby and cricket were better than American sports, you would always have the times when you were together. The days when Easy Company annoyed the RAF. The afternoons when the RAF annoyed Easy Company.

But your mind couldn't be changed, you belonged to the RAF, and you knew you had a duty to fulfill.

So happy I could cry

Reflected diamonds in your eyes

When I die, I want you right there by my side

You almost felt like you were going to cry, thinking of how the stars had glittered in his eyes earlier, knowing that you may never see such a sight again and knowing that you could only fondly remember it; even though you knew it wouldn't be possible, not in a million years, you had hoped that if you were going to die, if you were going to be shot down by those fucking fascist cunts, that somehow Bill would be there. Somehow, he would be holding your hand and telling you that he loved you more than anything.

You knew such a thing was impossible, but that didn't stop you from hoping so dearly.

Make my heart beat

In the backseat of your car

I think I'm in love again

Bill reached over to put the cigarette in the ashtray on the bedside table, and huffed as he snuggled into you. "Can we at least sleep here?"

You shrugged as you stole a look out of the window. "Sure. It won't be for long, though."

Make my heart beat

In the dark we fall apart

I think I'm alone again

It was dark outside, even darker when you turned out the light and dared to relax as Bill kept so close; your heart was beating fast, anxious about what tomorrow would bring and wondering if you would be sent away. You could feel tears on your face, forcing you to turn your head away so that you wouldn't disturb Bill; you didn't want to leave him, you didn't want to be alone again. But you knew that the time would come. You knew.

You light my fire, I breathe you in

You get me higher than I've ever been

When you finished crying, though, you turned back to him, and pressed your face against the top of his head, taking a whiff of his scent; you didn't want to miss it, you didn't want to forget his smell, his warmth, his smile. You didn't want to forget him.

Make my heart beat

In the backseat of your car

I think I'm in love

Somewhere in the night, you had fallen asleep, cuddled right into him and softly snoring as if you had been married for years and years and as if there had been a nikah that nobody knew about; his chest was against yours, your hearts almost perfectly parallel as you kept him so goddamn close. Soundly asleep. Neither of you even stirred when the door had opened.

Oh-oh-oh

I think I'm in love again

Oh-oh-oh

I think I'm in love

I think I'm in love again

Stood just shy of the bed, Winters and Perveen frowned as they looked at you and Bill; you looked so happy, so at peace and so comfortable, they didn't want to wake either of you up.

"Guarnere isn't a morning person anyway," Winters mused. "I might leave him, for now... let him get up in his own time."

Perveen, brushing a hand down his beard, shrugged. "(y/n) hates it when I wake him up... maybe it's best we leave them both - they look comfortable and at least we know where they are."

"Agreed," Winters nodded, opening the door and gesturing for the RAF commanding officer to go first. "Besides - they're a great pair, right?"

"Right," Perveen agreed. "My (y/n) really loves your Guarnere... I'm... I'm glad to see him happy. He deserves it."

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; spam likers WILL be blocked. as will blogs that refuse to reblog or to give feedback. if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM. don't just "like", REBLOG

#mlem writes #bill guarnere #bill guarnere x reader #bill guarnere fanfic #bill guarnere imagine #william guarnere #william guarnere x reader #will guarnere imagine #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers

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faccal · 2 years

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WIP Word Game

I got tagged for the WIP word tag by three people, so I'm going to do it all on one.

I have these words from @alidravana and @simonxriley (Hug, Rain, Secret, Safe)

I'm not sure who to tag, but I'll do @playstationmademe @luda-m-lada @satan-incarnate-666 and anyone else who would like to do it! The words are: Flower, Knife, Sword, Wound

Hug

"Logan, my soul." He says in a language Logan doesn't recognize, taking the boy's face in his hands. His eyes rake over his blond hair, his familiar hazel eyes and strong nose. He remembers her face, noticing how much like his mother Logan looks.

Keegan buries his nose in Logan's neck, breathing in deeply. "My Logan." He hugs the boy to him, smiling. "We are one again."

(also from my COD Ghosts, Keegan x Logan fic Thorns and Roses)

Rain

Darkness, all consuming, never ending. A shiver violently shakes Logan awake where he sits, gasping for breath as warm droplets of rain pelt him from above, soaking his flesh straight to his core. He chokes, cracked lips and right arm lit ablaze as the water harasses his aching form.

(from my COD Ghosts fic which I already posted on here)

Secret

“Why go behind my back, and have a child? Why hide in the shadows and avoid my gaze, when you know I shall uncover all secrets.” He glared at the seventh month woman before him. “Why?”

Her body trembled, and her lips were sealed.

“You know what will happen.” A young, collared servant, brought the King his sharpened dagger. He rose from his skeleton throne. His icy grey eyes made the poor servant collapse.

(from an old original wip, a sequel to another wip)

Safe

Arden’s eyes flutter open, taking in his warm surroundings. “Akira?” He pushes himself up, wincing as pain shoots up his right arm. “Damn.” He sets his arm in his lap, using his good one to keep him steady.

“Akira?” He tries again. Moving forward, he pushes himself off the bed. His feet hit the fur rug, and he stands there for a moment, balancing himself.

“You look well.” Arden turns to Dahlia, smiling over at him from her chair, with a book clutched in her hand.

“Where is Akira? Is he safe?" Arden steps forward, concern and fear rising in his chest.

(another snippet from my couple year old original wip, Red Rose.)

And these words from @tokillamockingbird427 (Run, Red, Shout, and Close)

Run

“There you go old girl, can’t have you dying of thirst now can I?” Maisie neighs to herself, continuing to munch on her food, which has become increasingly difficult to find.

“That run down Tractor Supply is running out of feed sweetheart. Might have to start taking longer trips.” He gazes to his old beat up Ford, a truck he’s hated since his wife first bought it, and realizes he’s also running out of gasoline.

When he had first stocked up, he had managed to get enough feed to last Maisie three months, and himself enough gas to last two, as he decided traveling wouldn’t be the best of options. Especially since everyone was dead.

(this is from a zombie wip which I no longer work on, but I couldn't find Run in any of my current wips lol.)

Red

I included some earlier bits of text for mild context

Elias relaxes slightly, finding an odd bond of trust forming between him and the older male. "Elaine, let me see Logan."

She clutches her youngest tighter. "Don't you touch my son you bastard! I won't let his kind taint him!"

A harsh slap echoes in the throne room, freezing everyone in place. Elaine sits there in shock, a red mark forming on her cheek.

(this is a future scene from my COD Ghosts/Keegan x Logan fic, Thorns and Roses.)

Shout

“No, he is not.” Arden looks back down, spotting a woman dragging a man. “Dahlia!” He cries, hoping she would hear him. She continues to drag the body towards a cart. “Akira.” Arden sheaths his dagger, and stands. “Until next time.” He tears off down the cliff, ignoring his name being shouted to the wind.

(this is from an original fic that Thorns and Roses is inspired by, called Red Rose.)

“You’re a selfish, hideous, monster! You steal life and are confused when we revolt! You’re evil!” Avo screams, allowing her eyes to well with tears. Jade cocks his gun, readying it to fire.

“Oh sweet Dove.” Matthias holds out his gloved hand. “That is in no way close to why I chose you.” He turns to Jade. “And you, my boy, why do you think you were chosen?” Jade remains silent, minus a few protesting growls.

(from another original wip of mine called AVO)

#tag game #wip tag game #simonxriley #alidravana #tokillamockingbird #unfinished wip #wips #wip stuff #wip word game

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songwitchgmaconfessions · 2 years

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when words fail, music speaks... because no among of words, strung together so meticulously, would begin to capture what i feel for her. but i will try until my last, gasping breath. because i love her. i love her. i love her. times 666 times 666 times infinity. i love her.

"And then you'll keep me breathing,

Grant me peace through the night

My dear, I hope your dreams are sweet as real life

Cause this is my favourite thing by far

And you defy everything I've ever known

But why,

Do you believe in fate,

Do you believe in destiny,

Would you believe me if I told you,

You complete me.

I don't say this lightly.

So don't take this lightly.

Cause this is my favourite thing by far

And you defy everything I've ever known

But why, why me, when you could have had anybody

Hi, nice to meet you,

Was it nice to meet me too?

Don't tell me the things,

That you think I want to hear.

Just tell me the truth,

And the whole truth,

Your thoughts and your hopes

And your dreams and your fears."

Tonight Alive, My Favorite Thing

“And I never wanted anything from you / Except everything you had and what was left after that too”

Dog Days Are Over - Florence + The Machine

“So say my name / And every color illuminates / And we are shining / And we’ll never be afraid again”

Spectrum - Florence + The Machine

"And isn't it just so pretty to think / All along there was some / Invisible string / Tying you to me?"

Invisible String, Taylor Swift

“You are the hole in my head / You are the space in my bed / You are the silence in between what I thought and what I said”

No Light, No Light - Florence + The Machine

“And every day I wore your face like an atmosphere around me / Half the other side of me”

How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful - Florence + The Machine

I should be over all the butterflies / But I'm into you / And baby even on our worst nights / I'm into you / Let 'em wonder how we got this far / 'Cause I don't really need to wonder at all / Yeah, after all this time, I'm still into you

Still Into You, Paramore

“Tenderest touch leaves the darkest of marks / And the kindest of kisses break the hardest of hearts”

Hardest of Hearts - Florence + The Machine

You got me in a free fall, you're my sweet surrender / You wrapped me in a white flag in my darkest hours / So tell me will you stay now? / 'Cause I feel like I'm saved now / You got me in a free fall, you're my sweet surrender

I take off my armour when you love me harder / All my defences come down / I take off my armour when you love me harder / I'm alright, I'm alright now

Sweet Surrender, Against the Current

“My love has concrete feet / My love’s an iron ball / Wrapped around your ankles / Over the waterfall”

Heavy In Your Arms - Florence + The Machine

“And with one kiss you inspired a fire of devotion that lasted 20 years”

What Kind Of Man - Florence + The Machine

"And I can't let you go. / Your handprint's on my soul."

End Game, Taylor Swift

“Screaming in the dark, I howl when we’re apart / Drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart”

Howl - Florence + The Machine

"Didn't know that i'd fall so hard

That my feet left the ground

Gravity don't make no sense

When you're around

I come up against myself when

Demons in my head get loud

I don't know how you do it

But you turn them down

I slip and wonder who i'd be

If i never found you and you never found me

Well, I don't wanna see

So won't you give me tonight

And the rest of your life?

I wanna have it all with you

And when you open your eyes

I'll be there by your side

I wanna have it all with you

I wanna have it all with you"

Biblical, Calum Scott

"You can't choose what stays and what fades away / And I'd do anything to make you stay"

No Light, No Light - Florence + The Machine

#death #suicide #violence

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fyv-media-noise · 2 years

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Four Ways to Listen to Mr. Morale and the Big Steppers (4/x)

The MIRRORED MESSIAH (MM) playthrough is the hardest message of prophecy I have ever encountered. As a person who appreciates a less traditional spiritual experience, the “voice of GOD” that Kendrick calls upon in this album spoke to me in ways for which I was entirely unprepared, and I am still coming to terms with the call that okLama put out into the Universe. I mentioned above that one of the major themes of this album is GOD. You may interpret this word/entity/force however you like, but I think the core evidence for this theme is on fullest display when you listen to MMBS in the MIRRORED MESSIAH fashion.

To order the tracks, you must mirror the WV playthrough. Start your listen with Mirror, counting down (backwards) to Count Me Out, and then follow Disc 2 with the mirror of, starting with United In Grief and going up (forwards) to conclude the playthrough with Purple Hearts. Count down from 9 to 1 and then back up again from 1 to 9.

Why? In doing this, we replace the foremost “feminine” voice of the WV playthrough with a kind of spiritual voice, a message or messenger from GOD, and we listen to Kendrick confronting the messianic figure that super fans have made of him. In all seriousness, it is hard to argue that Kendrick is anything other than the GOAT. Obvious parallels and references to similar Rap Gods and Culture Icons pepper the story of the MM playthrough, but even more obvious references to his status as a Man of God and hearing (or wielding) the voice of God are also apparent. Kendrick had to address this issue. After five long and nearly silent years, the prophet has returned with words “from God.” Compound these lyrics with the inclusion of Eckhart Tolle and the kind of spiritual transformation he espouses, and I believe the MM playthrough is the very best version of Mr. Morale and the Big Steppers we have.

Secrets to Uncover: A “triptych” is defined as:

· a picture or relief carving on three panels, typically hinged together side by side and used as an altarpiece

· a set of three associated artistic, literary, or musical works intended to be appreciated together

In every single track on MMBS, Kendrick utilizes three verses to tell the internal story of the song. In so doing, he is deftly dancing between multiple perspectives, multiple issues relating to the core theme, and expanding the depth of knowledge being imparted by the tracks. For this reason, I am convinced that MMBS (in whichever playthrough style you prefer) must be appreciated as a triptych, grouping the 18 tracks into three groups of six songs each. Wise readers will immediately draw the connection here: Three 6’s. 666. The Mark of the Beast, that Abomination, that vile Satan, even the Antichrist. Kendrick is using the opposite of GOD to bring a message about GOD. The Mirror is in full effect here. Issues of Self, Issues of Aggrandizement, the Messiah Complex, and, most importantly, challenging the traditional religiosity connected to worshipping GOD in an organized fashion. This playthrough literally starts with “I Choose Me” and concludes with Ghostface Killah calling for GOD to come down and heal the world.

Breakdown: The First Verse (Triptych Panel) of the MM playthrough goes from Mirror to Savior (Interlude). In this portion, we see Kendrick set free his family from the past hurts they’ve endured, challenge the Church openly for being hypocritical, and (ironically) reminding every fan that the people we idolize are not the holy saviors we want them to be. Kendrick may be a “demigod” but his is not GOD. Kendrick is here to bring a message to “heal ‘em all.” We must be lit on fire by our faith and use that force/energy/passion for GOOD.

The Second Verse (Panel) of the MM playthrough is undoubtedly the best grouping of six tracks together I have heard in decades. Silent Hill, Crown, Count Me Out, United In Grief, N95, and Worldwide Steppers all slap. They are all bangers. Every theme and line and beat is uplifting, invigorating, and empowering. This portion is The Message from GOD that the prophet okLama is here to preach for us. Like an Old Testament prophet in the wilderness, Kendrick is sparing no one and nothing. If he is going to claim to hear the voice of GOD, he must make good on that claim. He must make bangers. He must make a commercial success, even if he “can’t please everybody.” Holding fast to your truth, hearing the Name praised across the nation, is its own challenge that we must all confront. Once we strip off the fake faces, we get down to the meat of the problem: Kendrick is not for the faint of heart. GOD is not for the faint of heart. Kendrick asks “God to speak through [him]” and that’s what we hear now.

The Final Verse (Third Panel) of the MM playthrough is very Christlike. Die Hard asks the audience to forgive him and see the God in him. Where would Kendrick be without the choir he is preaching to, without his horde of fans? Are they really prepared for him to be open, flawed, and still maintain his position as the GOAT, the Messiah, the Messenger? Father Time is in reference to the character “Father Time,” spending time with your father, AND spending time with THE Father. Only then can we really feel rich in spirit. We must appreciate the old ways if we are to transform the whole system, the whole church, the whole culture. We must then confront “what the world sounds like,” unafraid, and unshaken. We Cry Together and Purple Hearts in this playthrough speak to the world that prophets, messengers, and messiahs are going to confront openly. We Cry Together in this playthrough reads like fans and family members confronting the messiah for his own hypocrisies. How can Kendrick claim to be godlike, how can anyone be godlike, once they swim in the murky waters like this? This motif is constantly repeated in any Religious Studies course. The Prophet is never appreciated in his own home because those people know him best. A Purple Heart is a badge of honor. Those who receive a Purple Heart have been wounded in battle, but more importantly, they were wounded while protecting and saving the other hurt people around them. Once you get a Purple Heart, you have proven for everyone that you are ready to risk it all for a stranger. You are become like Christ, willing to die, to be hurt, to sacrifice, and, after it all, still call upon GOD to come down and not abandon the world.

Mr. Morale and the Big Steppers is a complex triptych. MMBS is one of the greatest single pieces of art that I’ve ever experienced personally, and I am certain that it is being vastly underappreciated by the fans, by the critics, and by the world. The attention to detail, the execution of every verse within every song, and the actual banger-filled, Yeezus-like experimentation of this album firmly position Kendrick Lamar as one of the greatest artists of all time. Anyone who says different isn’t paying attention.

#oklama #Kendrick Lamar #Kendrick #music #op-eds #essay #GOD #spirituality #healing #kodak black #baby keem #hiphop #rap #MMBS #eckhart tolle #therapy

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john8-32 · 5 years

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

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you+me+the Devil, m | myg, jjk | collect

pairing(s): yoongi x reader x jungkook

summary: The mind seeks to understand, to categorize, to make something out of nothing. You are a vessel of this Disorder, driven to collect the final two souls your body is tasked to hold. One, the right-hand of the Devil, Jeon Jungkook. And two, the Devil himself, Min Yoongi. How to obtain them? By fucking, but on the Devil's terms, because when the Devil is involved, his domain regains supreme.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language - if you're religious, maybe skip this one; world building; supernatural and horror (extra arms / hands, eyeballs, mouths); smut (fem reader, unprotected sex (you're getting fucked by the Devil, STIs and pregnancy are the last of your problems), a collar and leash is involved, voyeurism, scratching / marking, choking, nipple play, cowgirl, creampie, m and f-receiving oral, double penetration, (double?) handjob, penetrative sex on top of a puddle of cum on JK's abs, spanking); non-idol!AU - Hell!AU; Devil!Yoongi x chaos!reader x Devil's right-hand demon!Jungkook and switches between their POVs

yes, you read the horror warning correctly

–

you and me and the Devil makes 3 prologue | the summoning | the collection | 666

if you get in bed, someone will fall in love

The Disorder is a strange thing.

The world attempts to make sense of and organize things as if it knows. Everything must have a reason, an explanation, a why, until you get deeper and deeper, realizing biology is only chemistry, and chemistry is only physics, and physics is only math, and math is… simply theory. A hope of truth, clawing together the chaos. But the real truth is, all order comes from disorder. To organize means to be disorganized from the start.

Beings of Order are not supposed to touch Disorder, not directly. It trickles down, slowly flowing though, a part of life everyone has, but no one can harness. Senseless moments brushed off as nothing. To encounter such a concentrated form, well, surely, nothing good can come of it.

Then again.

The Devil wasn’t good. Far from it.

Would he learn anything at all? Doubtful. Did he care? No. But he had time. He had forever. And he had souls, for he could consume them, an amalgamation of all the previous consumptions combined. The original Devil. The many faces thereafter. The current, Min Yoongi. If all you wanted was a little piece of one, well, he wouldn’t even miss it.

Jeon Jungkook?

His right-hand demon would lose a soul shard and become yours, just like the rest of them. Infatuated, consumed, blinded. He was a fool for agreeing so easily, clouded by anger and lust. But that was no matter. If eventually the Devil decided he wanted to change faces, it would no longer be a problem.

Yoongi had plans.

He would see them through.

You sat in the center of the bed, holding the black goat-man plush to your chest, squeezing his leather hooves, legs tucked under you.

They were at the end of the bed.

Jeon Jungkook, long black hair in messy and tangled curls, clinging to his cheeks and forehead. A cut on his high, tanned cheekbone from fighting the chains, dark red blood coagulated. Sharp jaw tensed, borderline fury and uninhibited deviance. Dark brown eyes with an exquisite shape, forever memorable. His black suit was torn up, blazer and dress shirt hanging by threads and exposing his toned chest. He made no move to correct it.

The Devil's right hand.

Your gaze shifted to the Devil.

Shorter black hair, pointed, more intrusive dark eyes. Paler, standing out against the black. The faintest trace of a smile on pink lips, a face with predatory feline grace. He was shorter than Jungkook, not as heavily built. Slim and sharpened, deadly like a sword. Hands in his pockets, suit pristine. There was no mistaking who was in charge here.

You squished the goat-man to your breasts.

The human heart was beating.

Singing.

Fuck me.

"Hyung."

Yoongi was observing you carefully.

"What is she?"

The Devil chuckled. "Does it matter? You love to fuck."

"But she has the soul shards of the five highest ranking demons in Hell," Jungkook hissed in his ear. Goosebumps on his skin at the younger demon's hot breath. Yoongi felt the sides of his lips curve upwards, tilting his head slightly so Jungkook's voice drifted on more of his neck. Still not looking at him, eyes on yours.

You kept pushing the plush into your chest, dark lips parting.

Jungkook stepped closer, body barely brushing against his, body heat radiating. "Why does she have them? Where are they?" he breathed, head lowering, so close his black hair feathered onto the Devil's neck, his lips almost touching Yoongi's skin.

Yoongi's eyes bored into yours, his own flaring with sparks of red. Voice deepening, taking up the whole room. He doubted you would be affected by his persuasive power. It wasn't for your sake.

"Show me the shards."

Jungkook moaned softly in his ear, shuddering.

You smiled that little smile. Yoongi held up a hand, preventing Jungkook from touching him. The younger demon whined, but he paid it no mind. You lowered the little goat-man, placing him on the nightstand.

To watch.

You reached to the high collar, to the zipper of the dress. The pull was shaped like a cross. Yoongi’s smile widened. A cute joke. Down it went, smooth, revealing your neck, waiting to be bitten. Exposing your collarbones, a small tattoo in the center just below them, at the top of your sternum.

Now the Devil was grinning.

An upside-down pentagram with two rings around it. Black. Simple. Most likely christened on that smooth skin before you became what you are now. A sweet little foreshadowing.

Lower.

Then Yoongi’s expression hardened.

Right below the tattoo, there they were. Thin diamonds, needle-like black gems that gleamed red and purple, pulsing as if they were alive, embedded in your skin below your tattoo and above the swell of your breasts. The demon soul shards, five of them in a semicircle, with an empty space at the center and one at the bottom left, not yet filled. Your flesh was indented in those two spots, clearly waiting for Jeon Jungkook and the Devil.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, removing his hands from his pockets.

They were part of you.

That made you a human, bedded with shards of high demon soul, soiled with Disorder. Yoongi eyes widened, realization streaking through him. Something flickered in the vacancy of your eyes, torn back down by ice-silver. Like a spider’s web suspended delicately in air, you were wound with silken string, demon soul shards penetrating the human shell.

Is that what was keeping you, the Vessel, from collapsing?

The four horns protruded from Yoongi’s head, black-red and wicked. He narrowed his eyes as you lowered the zipper more, revealing the black lace bra molded to your breasts.

“Let me bring part of me to you,” he rasped, the power soaring through him, dark smoke simmering from his lips. He heard Jungkook suck in a tight breath, pressing himself against Yoongi, drawn to the power, intoxicated by it.

The Devil’s voice boomed, resonating to an inhuman octave.

“Domain Expansion: Devil’s Advocate.”

The room rippled, his power manifesting in time and space, creating a pocket of Hell itself. Black shadows wrenched open every crack, snaking out and crawling all over, long spider-liker arms ending in elongated claws, skittering, skittering, rushing towards the bed, pawing at the black sheets. Advancing on you, threatening, more and more and more, black shadows twisting and writhing, trying to get to your legs. The air shimmered with red, almost as if it was on fire.

You tilted your head, pausing.

Seams on the thin shadowy arms opened, bloodshot eyes rolling in their sockets until they fixated on your form on the bed, quivering slits of black pupils surrounded by red irises. The hands sank into the sheets, claws flexing, almost touching you.

But not quite.

“Jungkook, leash her.”

Like a black arrow, Jungkook lunged at the bed, launching himself above the eyeball-covered shadows, crushing them, sending jets of gushing blood across the sheets, soaking them red, and yet the hands stroked his muscular fit body, lingering before he appeared before you, dark brown orbs gleaming with red and black flecks, his power amplified by Yoongi bringing Hell to the surface. His horns protruded from the sides of his head, swirled like ram’s horns, blacker than they were red. They were large and sharp, framing his strong features with more strength.

His hand raised, voracious grin on his face.

“Let’s begin, pet.”

And then it was on your throat, you gasping in his tightening grasp, cutting off your circulation, hands falling into your lap, leaning into Jungkook’s hold. He hesitated, seeing the look in your eyes. They weren’t void of emotion.

An ice-silver shimmered through them, and there was a flicker of something.

Need.

You dug your fingers into the bed and whimpered, catching your lower lip between your teeth, gazing at him with half-lidded eyes.

“J… Jungkook…”

He pulled his hand away, but it was already done, the thick black leather collar on your neck, imprinted with red pentagrams and a silver center ring, black leather leash extending in Jungkook’s fingers, tangling him in it. It had already begun and the lust was brimming within him, insatiable, eager to consume, no longer worried about that small flicker of humanity he might have imagined. To be a demon is to be cursed to feel, emotion and free will entangled, a servant of the Devil but not without indulgence.

Full of sin and prepared to act on it.

Jungkook grinned, long black hair wild and curled around his horns.

“What’s your name, pretty pet?” he purred, flicking his middle finger on your chin, your dark mauve lips parting, looking up at him.

You told him.

He savored it with his lips, already aroused by it. He lowered the hand with the leash, snaking it between your legs, lowering his face to you and your hot breath, moaning at the intensity of the feeling, not quite human, but something more and something familiar, demon lust and human reaction mixed with an unknown drug.

Jungkook loved to fuck.

“Can’t wait to make you my plaything,” he breathed against your cheek.

You whined as his hand trailed down your ass, pulling out the end of the leash between your legs, gripping it from the front and back, snapping it up into your clothed pussy. A loud, sharp slap cracked the air as it connected, making you moan depravedly and tremble in his hands, your own coming up to grab his torn shirt. He ground the leash into the folds of the clothing, hot friction and unforgiving leather. He could feel it, the pleasure and the pain radiating off you, sparks of heat as you bucked down into the strap, the sweet scent your juices soaking through your panties.

Jungkook inhaled deeply, the taste at the tip of his tongue, shoulders shaking at the scent of sex, invigorating his veins, heart racing. Your fingernails dug into his chest, your eyes reflecting his high, his pleasure in abusing your pussy, tainting you with him in this Hell domain.

The Devil leaned over, tongue sliding out. Jungkook stiffened, biting his lip, watching intently as Yoongi neared, closer and closer to your ear. When was the last time Jungkook was allowed to indulge with the Devil? Even if it wasn’t, it felt like forever ago. Too long. His blood was boiling, singing to the Devil, praying for more.

Yoongi’s dark eyes shifted to him for a moment.

Jungkook’s lower lip popped out of his teeth, small whine in his chest.

The Devil smiled knowingly, leaning even farther in so his soft lips brushed against your earlobe, the taste of your skin on his wicked tongue. An interesting taste, but distinctly human. Yoongi sighed in satisfaction, nearly a moan, eyes shifting back to your profile. You were staring at Jungkook and Jungkook was staring at him.

“Five demons this body has withstood.”

The thought made him hard.

“What’s two more?” Yoongi chuckled deep in his chest, placing his hand on your heaving chest, right above the soul shards.

No.

It hovered, the faintest sliver of space between his hand and your breasts. The more he pushed, the more it pushed back, gleaming sparks scalding his palm. Yoongi gritted his teeth, seeing the black tendrils laced with ice-silver snake around his fingers. The scent of burning flesh stained the air. Not holy magic. Something else. Something far less controlled. The Devil could feel pain, but it was nothing more than fuel for his emotions, a means to an end.

You lowered more of your weight onto the leash, moaning as the leather dug in deeper, the scent of sex stronger, rocking your hips back and forth. Yoongi suddenly felt the pain lessen, the black tendrils retreating, ice-silver fading into nothing. His eyebrows raised, fascinated. The introduction of passion and your human body reacting to it. The disembodied black arms around them scabbed around, nonsensical red eyes veering in all directions, crawling across the sheets, desperate to touch and soil the human.

His palm was getting closer.

Closer.

Closer to your chest.

Yoongi’s hand touched your shuddering breast.

Instantly the shadowy, eyeball-covered hands were on your body, clawing at your clothes, caressing your skin, up your back and to your head, pulling you by the hair and making you moan, Jungkook completely letting go of the leash and placing his hands on your breasts, one over Yoongi’s, curling the Devil’s fingers under the lace cup, pulling hard.

Yoongi made no move to stop him.

Jungkook ripped your bra apart, sucking in a tight breath as your breasts bounced free, diving down to latch his lips onto them, his hot mouth to your cool skin, moaning at the taste of human mixed with demon, the five shards on your chest glimmering, his five hyungs infused into this body with the exception of the Devil himself.

“Fuuuuuuuck…”

He shoved his hands under the ribbons of your dress and yanked your body up to his greedy mouth, biting and lapping at your skin, flickering his tongue over your nipples, your hands finding his shoulders, wanton whimpers quivering from your chest to Jungkook’s mouth. He drank it all up, the sweet taste of flesh, the heavy scent of sex, the sound of tainted lust, whining as his shirt was torn to bits by exploring shadowy hands. The Devil’s work. Jungkook looked up to see Yoongi on the other side of you, one of his pale hands in your hair and the other pushing your chin back, his head descending.

“A kiss from Hell, just for you,” Yoongi murmured.

The Devil’s lips on yours.

You audibly moaned right into Yoongi’s mouth as he tilted his head, fitting his lips to your dark mauve ones, soft but rough, tongue sliding in, fucking you with it, slow and maddening, the aphrodisiac of his kiss turning even the most prudish of humans into a sobbing mess, begging and pleading for more.

But, as he suspected, you were no ordinary human.

Your tongue wound around his, pressing your lips harder to his despite his hold on your hair, exhaling in his mouth, intoxicating all on its own, pushing your chest into Jungkook’s face, your arms held back by Hell’s shadows, your muscles tense and shivering.

Yoongi felt it, the hot spark of near pain.

You could break out at any time.

Yoongi broke the kiss, breathing hard, his eyes finding yours. Like small mirrors, they reflected himself back. And yet. There was definitely something underneath that standing water. Poison? Or something else?

Jungkook grabbed your chin and kissed you hard, moaning at your taste and the Devil’s lingering saliva.

“Yes, fuck, yes…”

Your dress ripped apart, the demon hands doing the Devil’s work, leaving red scratches on your skin, Jungkook doing the rest, rough fingers shoving the fabric scraps out of the way, bits of your bra thrown aside, shreds of black adding to the shadows already surrounding the bed. All eyes on you and your exposed body in Jungkook’s arms, his hard bare chest pressing into yours, skin to hot skin, lifting you like a doll, one hand winding around the leash.

Kissing you like he owned you, already his possession by the way you gasped into his mouth, breathless as he took your sweet exhale with his fiery inhale, his fingernails scraping down your back.

“Stop playing around,” the Devil commanded harshly.

Jungkook started, breaking the kiss as the shadowy arms encircled him and you, locking your bodies in a tight embrace. The red eyes in the shadows flickered, blinking, morphing, changing.

Into mouths.

Into tongues.

“H-Hyung…!”

Yoongi smirked behind your head, eyebrow cocked as Jungkook shuddered and moaned, red forked tongues from ghostly arms flickering across his skin, grasping you so tightly that you whined against his chest, the tongues on you too, drenching you in swipes of Hell’s saliva.

As if the Devil himself was licking you, but all over.

“Hyung, w-wait…” Jungkook managed to get out, hands on your shoulders.

Like two star crossed lovers, except one was a demon and one barely had any humanity left.

Yoongi cracked his neck, grinning widely, all malice and no mirth.

Devilishly, even.

“Can’t wait any longer. I just have to know.”

The Devil’s hands swooped down, twisting between your body and Jungkook’s, undoing the button and the zipper of Jungkook’s slacks impossibly fast, the shadows aiding him, pulling them down, ripping apart the underwear, Jungkook gasping as Yoongi’s long fingers closed around his hard, leaking cock.

“Ah, don’t–”

But it was too late, the Devil’s hand wrapped around him, pleasure sprinting through his veins and swarming every nerve, Yoongi’s other hand pushing your wet heat closer, closer, dark chuckles and fiendish words invading his senses, the Devil himself pulling all his strings.

“Ah, I know all the things you like, Jungkookie…” Yoongi drawled, placing the head against your slit, coating it with your slick but not letting Jungkook enter you, making the younger demon growl with want. “I know you love playing with the humans for hours…” Leaning in, putting his face above your left shoulder, hovering with a sinister smirk. “And I know you secretly love it when you’re being forced to do something.”

The Devil’s pink tongue snaking out, licking Jungkook’s cheek, making him moan in your face and lean his forehead against yours, the lust overwhelming, unable to move due to the shadowy mouth-covered arms and the Devil’s power. Your body trembled in his embrace, your whimpers against Jungkook’s lips and Yoongi’s cruel, raspy laughter ringing in his ears as Jungkook’s cock swelled in his hand.

“You just love it when it’s me ordering you around, don’t you, Jungkook?”

Jungkook was staring in your eyes, seeing his own desperation and shameful happiness reflected back at him, admitting the truth because there was nothing he could hide from the Devil.

“Y… Yes, hyung,” he breathed into your mouth.

Yoongi let go of his cock the same time he pushed your dripping core onto Jungkook, sinking you all the way down, two simultaneous moaning screams intertwining and filling up the entire room infested with Hell’s domain.

Inside.

You felt it, a tiny pulse.

You looked around in the abyss, not expecting to see anything.

How long had you been here? Ah, did it matter? Nothing mattered. In this world, there was only emptiness. You saw nothing, heard nothing, remembered nothing, cared about nothing. If there was no sadness, there was no happiness. If there was no existence, there was nothing to worry about, cry about, feel pain about. Nothing to live for. Nothing at all.

And yet.

You had sensed something.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

You looked up.

Four black horns adorning a head of black hair and fair skin, lips peeled back, eyes glittering.

Menace. Amusement. Glee. Lust. Fascination.

Passion.

Who was that?

You squinted.

You… had eyes.

And suddenly it all rushed to the surface, jammed into sensory overload, tongues on your skin, heat overwhelming, a sweaty cheek pressed against yours, your chest prickling with sensitivity, pain from a tight embrace, and you gasped a lungful of air as you felt the demon’s cock enter your tight, wet hole, saturated with arousal, eye to eye with blazing dark brown orbs surrounded by wet black curls, your pussy stretched too far too fast, but adrenaline adapting the pain into even more pleasure.

Felt.

You could feel everything.

“J-Jungkook…”

Words.

You could hear the demon’s lips curve into a wicked grin.

“I love it when you’re whimpering my name, pet,” he drawled.

There was nothing to wonder about. No desire to know your past or if you had a future, no desire to know why you were here, what was going on, not even the need to know how you were aware of the demon before you and his name, Jeon Jungkook.

There was only one goal.

Chasing all aspects of pleasure and passion.

The shadows around your two retreated slowly, forked red tongues sliding back into shadowy pits surrounded by crevices slashed on black disembodied arms, but none of that mattered as you leaned in to Jungkook’s face, hands rising to grip his shoulders, cracking pleas in your throat at the sensation of being too full and sensory overload dominated by lust.

“F-Fuck me, please…” you panted, adjusting to straddle his lap better, his raw cock twitching against your throbbing walls. “Please, Jungkook…”

His hands were on your shoulders, his head lifting and eyebrow cocking, arrogant expression on his face.

“Of course, my little human.”

He lowered his hips, nearly pulling out, leaving you in a whine, almost empty before roughly shoving himself back in, filling you all the way to maximum ecstasy igniting all of your nerves, your nails digging into his skin and a choked moan as you took it all, straining against the brink of almost too much but not quite.

Utter perfection.

How did he know?

He didn’t.

Jungkook was a demon. And demons intuitively delivered the exact amount, instinctually sensing how the human body desired more, every brutal stroke a delicate balance of pain and pleasure, every rock of his hips matching yours, you involuntarily bouncing on his cock with his hard thighs in between your soft ones, cries bubbling from your throat. Every rush of stimulation potent, Jungkook panting intoxicatingly in your face and you drinking it up like a starved hyena, your hands clawing up, tangling in his hair, gripping the curved black horns on the sides of his beautiful head, staring into his enchanting eyes.

The demon smiled at you, almost lovingly, as he fucked you raw from below.

“That’s it…”

Rising from Jungkook’s left shoulder, four horns and glittering dark eyes.

A devious, open-mouthed smirk.

Your grip on Jungkook’s horns tightened, staring into this new, yet familiar gaze. A smokey whisper, rasp infesting your eardrums, reaching in to the humanity inside you. Your ice-silver irises reflected in the endless darkness of those ravenous orbs.

“Fuck him harder,” the Devil coaxed.

Sin.

“Yes,” you breathed.

Body automatically reacting, crashing your mouth into Jungkook’s, wild kiss punctuated by your hips smacking down hard onto his crotch, walls clenching around his stiff length, his moan and words filling your lungs.

“H-Hyung, fuck!”

You threw your weight onto him, slapping your hips together violently, repeatedly, biting his lower lip and sucking on it, pressing his body into the Devil, Jungkook’s nails digging into your shoulders and his cock swelling inside you. Pale hands coming up to grip Jungkook’s broad, tan shoulders, pink tongue sliding out and stroking the demon’s ear wetly, scorching breath on your fingers.

“Take it,” was the animalistic growl from those perfect pink lips, the low octave on an otherworldly level. “Cum in that pretty little pussy. Warm it up for me, Jungkookie.”

So hard, turning you so wet, greedy kisses and bites not enough, more, more, Jungkook groaning and powerfully thrusting up as you squelched down, splattering your juices all over his balls, pussy throbbing with the intensity of pleasure, staring into beautiful eyes and the hauntingly handsome angles of Jungkook’s face soaked with sweat on glistening tan skin, one of his hands grabbing your head and kissing you back with just as much fervor, filling you again and again, your name dancing on his lips.

“Yes, yes, fuck me, fuck me, you humans are so fucking good at serving us…”

“J-Jungkook, ah, f-fuck… I–”

“Give it to me, give it to me, delicious little pet,” he growled in your throat, harder, faster, rougher, racing to the edge and flying off.

A millisecond of euphoria.

You gasped out his name, saturated in mindless ecstasy.

“Jungkook.”

The Chaos swallowed you up, leaving you in nothingness once more.

Yoongi noticed it immediately.

He could feel it course through him, your orgasm explosive and mixing with Jungkook’s crescendo, invading the Devil’s senses and igniting throughout his body, feeding off of every throb of your pussy as Jungkook moaned and pumped you full of his hot cum, packing you with demon seed that your human body could do absolutely nothing with, soaking it into your abused walls, painting your sweetness with his heat.

Demons purely had sex with humans for the sake of pleasure. Nothing could come of it other than the obscenity in enjoying primal passion.

Fucking delightful.

Palpable and intense, Yoongi’s tongue slid out and tasted the air, his hands moving up and caressing Jungkook’s horns, making the younger demon shudder and squirm with pleasure, rutting into you more, squishing his thick cum around inside you, your eyelids fluttering and shivering gasps grasping your lungs.

But your eyes.

While you were fucking Jungkook, your eyes had turned that icy silver.

Now your irises were that reflective mirror.

The Devil felt it.

A pulse.

Jungkook’s naked body trembling against his, tantalizing moan implanted with lust incarnate, lost in the throes of passion, unable to get out until his orgasm was over. His voice sounded thin as if there was pressure in his ribcage.

Yoongi looked down at Jungkook’s heaving chest.

It was glowing.

He couldn’t stop it.

Spider-silk thin strands of ice-silver plunging inwards, needles of power forcing its way inside Jungkook’s chest cavity, all the way in. Yoongi was so close that he himself could feel it, the power of his domain letting him feel everything that happened within, from your passion to Jungkook’s desire, and now he could feel the needles pouring in, chipping away at the vibrant demon soul of Jeon Jungkook.

Collecting.

Jungkook whimpered, head falling against Yoongi’s shoulder, turning his head to kiss the Devil’s cheek.

“H… Hyung…”

The slim, black-red diamond extracted from Jungkook’s chest in glimmering lines of ice-silver, suspending it in the air, so spellbinding that even Yoongi could do nothing but watch in awe, the strings winding around the shard of demon soul and affixing it to your chest, the spot to the bottom left below the center. Six now, the filled semicircle underneath your pentagram tattoo, center empty.

The shadowy arms, covered with red eyeballs and tongues, rose.

Your eyes reopened, cracks of ice silver in those vacant irises.

Now, the Devil, Min Yoongi, understood.

What were demons cursed with?

Emotion and free will.

The Vessel was using the soul shards to stabilize the Disorder. The human body was too weak alone and those high above had nothing to give, for they gave away all they had to serve his father. That’s why you needed demon soul. Not just any demon soul, but the six most powerful ones, driven to finalize your collection with the most powerful of them all to contain what was within.

The Entropy.

The Chaos.

A slow, greedy grin graced his lips.

How interesting.

A tiny blip.

You had one piece of knowledge. Six.

In the nothingness, the only knowledge you possessed was the number six.

Six.

The resurfacing.

You gasped for air, lungs expanding forcefully, chest burning and heart racing, sensory overload, knowing only what you needed to know, the demon Jeon Jungkook in front of you once again, except this time he was leaning against the headboard, breathing hard, his tan shoulders crisscrossed in red from your nails, his two curved black horns luminous, arrogant smirk on his face.

You were on your hands and knees.

No.

Your arms were being held up by dark shadows of disembodied hands, eyes and tongues surrounding you, shoulders bowing a little from the strain, but not enough to be unbearable.

Jungkook licked his lips, slow, glossing them with wetness.

“Pretty pet,” he purred, gripping the leash and tugging on it, your breath dying in your throat, circulation cut off by the leather cutting into the sides of your neck. “Don’t waste any of it now, or you’ll anger him.”

Dancing fingers sliding up your hips, the space in between your legs achingly sore and full, but demanding more punishment, unable to look back to see, but already knowing who it was. You whimpered in your throat, shuddering at the light touch.

Jungkook quirked his eyebrows. “You’re right, little pet.” He yanked your body to his lap, jerking you forward unforgivingly, forcing you to stumble, the hands on your hips holding you up, your arms jostling in the grip of the shadows, their forked tongues swiping across your skin.

“That mouth needs something to fill it too, doesn’t it?” Jungkook drawled dangerously.

Your eyes widened, the scent of sex attacking your nose.

“Down,” he snarled.

You gasped, the grip on your neck lessening, Jungkook’s large hand fitting behind your head and forcing you to lower, your open mouth suddenly filled with his already rock-hard, cum-covered cock, yours and his, sex painting your tongue, swallowing his huge length in one gulp, tip engorging in the back of your throat, filling it to the brim of near-choking, but not quite.

Leaving you on the edge.

The edge of too much and not enough.

Perfection.

“I love to fuck,” Jungkook sighed above you, audibly savoring the feeling of your tight mouth around his length, your shaking eyes looking up at him. “And I’m the second best at it.”

He was.

You didn’t have to wonder. You just knew.

He leaned down, his thumb caressing your forehead. “Guess who is the best, pet?”

You yelped around his cock as forked tongues brushed against your flesh, shadows squeezing and kneading your beasts, latching onto your already hard nipples and stimulating them, pinching and tugging at the sensitive nubs. Jungkook’s naughty smirk was right in front of your face, his hardness twitching and pulsing in your mouth, those hands on your hips tightening, the velvety hard head of another cock skimming your cum-soaked folds, slicking with your juices.

Jungkook’s long fingers curled in your hair, gripping your scalp.

His voice a silvery, perilously low octave.

“The Devil.”

The familiar, raspy chuckle drenched in deviance.

“That’s right.”

Jungkook pulled out and roughly thrust in your face the same time the Devil slammed his cock into you, your eyes flying wide, Jungkook’s previous orgasm stuffed back into you by a different cock, slippery lewd squishes of too much thick liquid expanding your walls. Your pussy and mouth both clamped down on the two cocks, Jungkook’s swollen head ramming into the back of your throat, the Devil…

Holy shit, the Devil.

Whereas Jungkook’s cock responded to your body’s needs and kept it at the teetering maximum of lustful pleasure, the Devil had you suspended on his puppet strings, slow pace agonizingly teasing an orgasm out of you, fast pace tearing another out, rough pace amplifying yet another out, every one feeling like an eternity and leaving you craving more, the true meaning of insatiability, moans vibrating Jungkook’s throbbing length as your pussy convulsed from back-to-back orgasms. The surrounding shadows with bloodshot red eyes were watching you as forked tongues and shadowy hands caressed your trembling body all over, two mouths specifically latched on your nipples and one on your clit, rippling against the sensitive bundle of nerves, soaking it with saliva and sucking on it, all while Jungkook fucked your face relentlessly and the Devil drilled you from behind, grunts, groans, moans, mixed together, stifled by cock and accented by wicked slaps of flesh on flesh, all for the pure intent of only obtaining carnal pleasure and nothing else.

Unconstrained ecstasy, pure sin.

And you, suspended between torture and pain of overwhelmed senses.

“So fucking good…” Jungkook panted, black hair sweaty and sticking to his clenched jaw, dark brown eyes glinting with madness, thrusting wildly into your puffy mauve lips while harshly clutching your head, the shadows holding your body and taking the force of his movements off your neck so he could enjoy the delights of abusing your mouth without causing you pain, therefore allowing you to serve him as he pleased, keeping your throat tight for every punishing slide of his thick cock down the wet hole.

“You take me so well, little pet, almost like a demon, but human mouths are always better, so compliant and subservient. Demons are selfish, only looking out for their own pleasure, but your kind… Your kind is always begging to serve and be used.”

Jungkook caught his lower lip between his teeth, the mole underneath bouncing your vision with every plunge of his cock between your lips, large curved horns on the side of his head surrounded by long black curls, deliciously muscular torso right above you, tattoos on his right arm and shoulder flexing with his movements, the epitome of sex.

The entire time, the Devil’s cock was forcing you to new levels of pleasure you didn’t even know existed, blazing hot and intense, the ever-changing pace almost frustrating, but, somehow, he always knew what to do, speed up or slow down, harder or softer, the Devil’s trill sonata a complex and intricate mess being played, your pussy acting as the violin, coating his cock with Jungkook’s cum and yours, so much that it was spilling out and splashing onto your thighs, dripping down in sloppy squirts.

“You going to cum down that pretty throat?” the Devil drawled, his words resonating in his domain. “I want to watch you fill it up with your delicious cum so you can show me, Jungkookie.”

The young demon shuddered, intoxicated and driven by the command, his breathing swallowing, desires brimming to the surface, your name bubbling off his lips and your throat painfully sore but, oh, so good, so satisfying to be used like a toy, leather leash and collar on your neck jangling, inflamed clit pulsating as you came again with a feral moan around Jungkook’s stiff cock, pushing him over the edge with your suppressed cry, spilling into your throat with thick salty strings of his orgasm, shooting streaks all over the insides of your mouth.

“Don’t swallow,” he gritted out, jerking the last few spurts onto your tongue before removing his cock, smearing residual cum on your swollen lips. “Fuck, yes.”

He snarled and grabbed your chin, other hand on your chest to push you up, up, forcing you to arch your spine to an almost ridiculously painful level, the Devil’s pleased expression halfway in your vision.

“Open,” Jungkook growled.

You opened your cum-smeared lips, showing the Devil the thick white coating the insides of your pink tongue and abused throat, barely able to breathe, almost choking on Jungkook’s orgasm.

The Devil grinned.

“Swallow.”

You did in noisy, desperate gulps, sucking in sweet air, only for the circulation in your neck to be cut off as Jungkook hooked a finger on the collar ring and yanked it forward, his other hand and the shadows preventing your body or head from moving as he did so.

You could feel it, the Devil’s cock jolting, hitting you so deep and so satisfyingly that your eyes rolled back, vision spotting with black, completely and utterly consumed by the bodily pleasure of being forced to take exactly what you asked for.

Your name, so soft and sharp, driving deep into your pounding, rapid heartbeat, soaking your body with unholy touch, craving to be broken.

“Take it.”

The faintest of gasps, nerves a flaring wildfire as the Devil thrust his orgasm into you, euphoric in simply being pumped with his seed, the hold on your neck suddenly gone, air smashing into your lungs and the rush of oxygen making your lightheaded and dizzy, your body flinching as it attempted to drink it all up, shocks tearing through your system, forked tongues lapping up what was slipping out and another thicker, wetter tongue.

Jungkook on his belly, needy wanton moans in his chest, sucking the mixture of cum – you, himself, and the Devil pouring from between your joined crotches.

The ice-silver tendrils creeped from your chest, but shadowed hands forced them back.

Pain.

Yoongi could feel it in midst of the intense orgasm, the pain of his power being disintegrated, but he was no ordinary demon, he was the Devil, and no power, not even the Disorder, was going to take a shard of his soul without a fight.

No.

He pushed back against it, forcing his will upon the power unknown.

You will get your payment.

The pain subsided a little, layering with the shivering tremors of your pussy barely able to hold all that cum. Yoongi clenched his jaw, feeding on it all. He pulled out of you, his cock smacking Jungkook in the face, smearing the demon’s lips and cheeks with his still hard length, feeling the desperate tongue lap at him eagerly before he pulled away, hearing the explicit squelch as Jungkook’s mouth latched onto your pussy, devouring the cum from three beings trapped inside you.

Not until I’ve had a decent meal.

Your irises remained infested with ice-silver.

The Chaos, merely at bay, waiting for him.

Jungkook shoved his tongue into your sensitive hole, licking and suckling on your engorged clit as well as eating the delicious nectar, lustfully groaning at the taste of the Devil, you, and him, so flawless, a meal incomparable, his blood singing with joy.

No drop was to go to waste.

He would grovel at the Devil’s feet to have this taste forever.

Yoongi grabbed you by the hair and pushed you down, kneeling over Jungkook’s hips, letting the younger demon do whatever he wanted down there. He had more pressing matters.

He lowered himself, lifting Jungkook’s still-stiff cock, and dropped his dripping cock and balls on top the other, hissing in satisfaction as his hard length rubbed against Jungkook’s. Underneath you he heard a throaty, gleeful moan, your body shuddering as the sound went through you.

“Hand,” Yoongi commanded.

He grabbed your hand that his servants freed, wrapping it around the two cocks with his own long fingers, rocking his hips back and forth, too much fluid and too much slick making everything slippery, flickering tongues from the shadows adding to the mix, licking at the purple-red heads, adding saliva to the mix.

Your eyes were glued to this downright obscene display of indecent passion, mauve lips wetly parted, gasping with tremors of orgasm, two hands around two cocks and surrounded by shadows with tongues and eyes, Jungkook’s uncontrolled moaning stifled by your lush hips sitting on his beautiful face, his hips still humping your joined hands and smacking his balls into Yoongi’s, begging the Devil to let him cum and for Yoongi to cum all over his stomach as you came on his face.

The Devil chuckled.

He and you pumped together with Jungkook’s thrusting, his eyes roaming all over, drinking in the sight of his favorite demon and his new shiny toy.

No, not a toy.

His possession.

He lifted his free hand, cupping your chin forcefully, staring into your eyes.

Ice-silver, reflective glass, the original human shattered, so thoroughly intertwined and blended together with powers unknown that it was hard to tell what was what, impossible to know if they even could be separated, and Yoongi, the Devil himself, having no personal reason to bring you back from whatever you were now.

The greater good?

Heh.

The Devil cared not for such things.

“Cum for me,” he breathed hotly to your lips.

You blinked hard, gaze unfocused, the edge already in your sights, headed straight for it at an impossible speed. He watched as you tipped into free-fall, eyes rolling back, whining and moaning hoarsely as you came for the umpteenth time, soaking Jungkook’s face with your orgasm, the younger demon yelping and his cock jerking, spurting cum over his stomach with Yoongi’s mixing at the same time, the Devil sharply hissing as his cock violently shivered and pressed against your palm, shooting thick strings of white all over those sculpted abs.

Yoongi clenched his jaw, the ice-silver needles sprouting from your chest once more.

“Your… name…” you whispered, whole body trembling.

Yoongi exhaled hard, locking his glare with your fucked-out expression. The power pierced him, a bizarre feeling of euphoria and excruciating prickling, pressure unbearable, the threads of the Chaos stumbling through the massive collection of souls within him. Skittering, frantically searching.

Pain.

But not from him.

From you.

Your shaking hand rose, your voice thinning out, anguish coating your features.

It was killing you the longer he hesitated in giving you a name.

The Devil could give you any name of the souls within him. The lesser ones, the insignificant ones, the pathetic ones. The contract did not specify. That was his loophole. The ice-silver threads were tearing you up from the inside, pouring more and more into him with every second that he waited. Your fingers brushed against his cheek.

“H…”

Something shimmering in those eyes.

“He… help… me…”

The power within the Vessel a vehement storm, sadistically demanding the contract to be sealed. You were going to die if he withheld a name from you. The Devil reached up and touched your hand, holding it against his cheek.

He smiled softly.

Yoongi would not let his precious new possession die so quickly.

“Hold on,” he rasped.

The Devil pushed back.

He forced it out, taking the pain and using it to fuel his power, pushing it back, back into you, your airless shrieks trapped in your chest as the six black-red soul-shards gleamed, radiating heat.

Helping him.

Even now his six closest confidants were helping him, their small bits of demon soul rushing to his aid, collapsing onto the power of the Disorder, forcing it back, buying him more time.

Yoongi chuckled.

Guess they really were his friends.

Whatever pain you felt became a distant memory the second the Devil lifted your hips from Jungkook’s face, arms wrapping around your body, his knees sliding up a little to hover your two bodies right above the cum puddle on Jungkook’s stomach. The demon beneath you panted, fucked-out, still shuddering with aftershocks of orgasm.

You held his face, looking deep into dark brown eyes full of the knowledge of every sin known to mankind. His lips curved into a sly, open-mouthed smirk.

“You’ve been so good,” he drawled. “Such a resilient little thing.”

Everything was sore, throbbing, muscles burning with exertion, and yet you still wanted more, caressing the cheeks of the Devil with your fingers, leaning against his body for support.

“After this, I think we should be a little closer, don’t you?”

Your body was lowering, abused pussy meeting his hard cock once more.

The Devil wasn’t done until he was done.

And those shadows of arms ending with claw-like fingers, covered in eyeballs and mouths? Always willing to lend a hand, encircling around your bodies, holding up your weak human body so the Devil could fuck you.

“Let’s be together for all eternity, you and I.”

You whimpered as you sank down again, so wet and slick that he slipped in easily, hardness swelling against your trembling walls.

“A contract?” you croaked, barely able to speak at this point.

“No, my pet,” the Devil lured, drawing you into him as he rocked his hips, lowering the two of you on the mess of cum on Jungkook’s abdomen, smearing your thighs in it, sticky and strong-smelling, Jungkook losing it under you, scooping up the demon seed to coat his fingers and palms. “Not a contract. Just a promise. Dedication.”

Now Jungkook’s hands were covered in the Devil’s cum and his own.

He began to spank your ass with every rough thrust of the Devil’s cock burying in your velvety folds, adding stings of pain to the devastating pleasure.

“You have dedication, don’t you?”

Dedication?

Slap! Thrust. Slap! Thrust. Slap!

The Devil leaned forward, raspy laugh deep in his chest.

A trickster’s kiss capturing your swollen lips.

“Faith, if you will.”

Your body instinctively bucking back into the Devil’s cock, Jungkook hitting you repeatedly, cum caked to your ass and thighs, pussy spasming and drenching the impossibly hard and thick cock inside you, taking it all with fierce enthusiasm, now throatily moaning to the bruising pace, ensnared in his words. Fucking you, punishing you, freeing you, violent hard thrusts, smacks on hips on hips and hands on hips, flesh singing with feral pleasure, Jungkook’s nails tearing at your skin and leaving red scratches with his stinging, cum-stained palm prints.

The Devil’s hand closed around the collar around your neck and you felt the leather melting away, disappearing, joining the mass of shadows around you. The black spidery arms flared out, circling around the Devil’s head like black fire, surrounding his four hours as his fingers gripped your neck, his left hand splayed on your back as he choked you.

The shadows opened.

Red eyes with black slitted pupils, watching everything.

Slashed mouths with black lips and forked red tongues, grinning.

They closed in, wrapping around your joined bodies, long predatory fingers tangling in your hair, hands clutching on your breasts, pointed nails clawing at your thighs and leaving red scratches, the Devil’s hot breath in your face as he smirked, wide and open-mouthed, canine teeth glinting ominously, driving his punishing girth into you as Hell’s shadows pushed you back down, Jungkook’s nails digging into your ass and his lustful, throaty moans ringing in your ears as he relished in the feeling of the Devil fucking you on top of him.

Your head clouding, circulation thinning as the pleasure thickened, rising to an impossible crescendo on a scale no longer known to man, consumed by lust and shadows, covered in cum, vision blurring, sound intensifying as one of your senses faded.

All Hell breaking loose.

“Do you have faith in the Devil, human?”

You scarcely managed to croak out an answer.

“Yes.”

A millisecond of euphoria.

A growl so deep it seemed to reign and command all souls within his presence.

“I am the Devil, and my name is Min Yoongi.”

Yoongi let it happen.

He set his jaw and shot into you, once more cramming you full of his cum, the pleasure of your orgasm amplifying his own, savoring the addictive high as the ice-silver filaments crowned from that center point on your chest, eagerly darting forward and plunging into his.

For a moment, he felt nothing.

He looked into your eyes.

You reflected ecstasy.

Then he felt an overwhelming pressure, sedation, and a crushing weight mixed with high-voltage passion, shattering through him, the unknown power pinpointing exactly what it needed and knocking on the door of the current soul embodying the Devil.

He was already waiting patiently.

The tendrils of ice-silver became your hands, cupping together, begging.

“Here.”

He ripped it himself, breaking off the thin diamond-like shard of black-red, a piece of his soul that he handed to the waiting hands, knowing he was forever bound to you, forever drawn to you, the Vessel, the Entropy, the Chaos.

His now.

“And this.”

He pressed a little something into it.

“It’s yours.”

The ice-silver snatched his soul-shard and vanished.

The darkness closed in, leaving you trapped in nothingness once more. The Chaos received what it needed. There was no need for your consciousness any longer, for the Vessel was complete. The nothingness just was and you were in it.

Silence.

Complete and utter silence.

Then.

A pulse.

You opened your eyes.

Everything hurt.

Everything was sticky, covered in cum.

Everything was scattered everywhere, bedsheets and clothes shredded, shadowy arms swaying this way and that, no longer covered in strange eyeballs and mouths, simply all-black and waiting for command.

Why?

You felt something soft tucked into your arms.

Your eyes lowered, seeing the black goat-man plush cradled in the crook of your less cum-coated arm. A pale hand took yours and placed your fingers on the leather hoof. You stroked it, almost innocently.

“Would you like to come with me?” said the deep, raspy voice.

Your eyes flickered to your chest. Six black-red demon soul-shards surrounding a bigger, more lustrous, and sinister-looking one. It sparkled red and purple. Something was trapped inside it, glowing violet from within. It seemed to pulse, slowly, following a unique rhythm.

You looked up.

Into Min Yoongi’s dark, dark eyes.

You felt a strong grip on your shoulders from behind, matched by a teasing chuckle as a playful chin resting against your shoulder. Your eyes flickered to your right, seeing the hand tattoos on that hand, feeling the hardness of the body of Jeon Jungkook behind you. He held you to him, tracing the curve of your neck.

Yoongi held his hand out, smirk on his lips.

You took it, affirming your desire to follow, even if it meant going to the depths of Hell itself.

“What did you do?” you breathed.

The Devil shrugged.

The domain around you was collapsing, but not melting away. Instead, it seemed to cave inward, bowing from strain, surrounding you, Yoongi, and Jungkook, swallowing the three bodies and the goat-man plush in your arms. Yoongi drew close to you, lips on your lips, half-lidded eyes smoked with arousal.

“I gave you a small shred of my heart, pet.”

The fist-sized muscle pounded in your chest as the surface disappeared and the Devil dragged you down to Hell with his right-hand demon.

“Now you have emotion and free will.”

Yoongi pressed his lips to yours, kissing you deeply as the world around you turned into everlasting flames.

666 You never know what is enough unless you know what is more than enough.

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #jungkook x reader #yoonkook x reader #yoonkook smut #bts smut #yoongi smut #jungkook smut #yoongi x you #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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constancelaufeydottir · 3 years

Text

Little Bat and The Big Dumb Wolf

Pairing: Werewolf!Bucky x Vampire!reader

Word count: 555 (Was seriously contemplating if I should make it till 666)

Summary: Biggest betrayal in vampire history: garlic in tomato soup

Warnings: Mentions of food, fluff (and cringey stuff)

a/n: Here's my entry for @syntheticavenger 8k Spooky Challenge. Congratz on the milestone!

I went for a fluffy one and i'm not sure if it's halloween-y enough but oh well ... (I'm aware that vampires hate garlic because of the pungent smell and their heightened sense but here I imagine them being allergic to garlic.)

You walked into the kitchen, sniffing at the smell of tomato soup permeating the whole space. There was something odd hiding in the sweet and sour smell of the red fruit but you were unable to tell despite your heightened senses. Whatever, you thought as you scoop some of the soup into a bowl, grinning at the sight of the thick red liquid which reminded you of your favourite food ever. Taking a seat on the barstool, you picked up a spoon from one of the drawers and slowly indulged in the delicious soup. The more you ate, the more content you felt; you soon fell into a food coma, not noticing the red dots which were starting to spread rapidly on your skin. You scratched on the itchy spots and came to a realization.

“Oh fuck,” you cursed out loud before collapsing on the marble counter, your face planting into the now warm soup. Thank goodness for your undeadness, you were incapable of drowning to death.

“Hey, little bat. We’re back!” Several footsteps shuffled through the wooden floor, rustling sounds of plastic bags could be heard.

“Holy shit!” Bucky dropped the bag of groceries he was carrying in his arms when he entered the kitchen, seeing your current passed out state. “Steve, Sam! Come here, quick!”

He panicked for a moment, thinking you were dead but that was not possible. Bucky hastily moved your head so you wouldn’t be drowning in the red soup any longer, then grabbed a clean tablecloth from the drawers. He was wiping the red from your face when the other two Avengers jogged into the kitchen, faces contorted in confusion.

“What happened?” Sam took the wet wipes from the cabinet and helped clean the soup in your ears and nostrils.

“She ate the tomato soup I cooked,” his face was filled with worries, “I forgot to leave a note to tell her I put garlic in it.”

“Don’t beat yourself up, Buck. You’re still learning how to accommodate her needs. It’s okay, she’s gonna be fine.” Bucky nodded at Steve’s words of affirmation.

When you woke up, the itching feeling was long gone. Your eyelashes fluttered as you opened your eyes, only to find your boyfriend sitting beside the bed, his furry ears hiding in between his fluffy hair. That was how you knew he was extremely worried about you; he was barely able to control his form.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” His fingers stroked against your cheeks, your fangs peeking out of your lips, “Sorry about the soup, dumb werewolf brain forgot everything.”

“It’s okay,” you placed your hand on his, “I’m just … embarrassed,” if you weren’t dead, your cheeks would probably heat up right now, “did Sam and Steve see me drowned in tomato soup?”

“Don’t worry, they didn’t see anything,” you sighed in relief.

“Come cuddle me,” you pat at the spot beside you and he crawled into the sheets, his warm body felt so nice against your cold one as you snuggled closer to him; your fingers reached up to his fluffy ears and gently fondled them.

“I love you, my little bat.” He murmured; hand mindlessly caressing your back, a soft kiss placed on your forehead. “Love you too, big dumb wolf.”

Today marked another lovely day in this little werewolf-vampire household.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky drabble #bucky fic #bucky imagine #synths8Kspookychallenge

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minteyeddevil · 3 years

Text

Birthday Role-Play

Mammon x GN!MC

Smut/NSFT

(Role-play, alcohol mention)

A little something for Mammon’s birthday I posted on Ao3

The lights and sounds that filled the Fall made the air around you hum with practical electricity, as you felt a pair of golden-blue eyes roaming over your skin. He was sitting across from you, almost directly, looking at you over the rim of the glass held in his hand. You could practically feel that smirk of his on your skin already as he slowly stood, clearly walking towards you now. You felt suddenly lightheaded; but it was not because of the drink in your cup.

He took the empty seat at your side, setting an elbow on the bar counter and placed his cheek in his free, cupped hand. His smirk only widened as the flush seemed to spread from your cheeks to the exposed patches of skin around your chest.

“Don’tcha think it’s rather dangerous for a little human like yourself to be sitting all alone in a place like this? Demons wouldn’t hesitate to eat you right up as soon as they got their filthy hands on you. Hell, I might just sink my teeth in’ta ya.”

A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest as he moved closer, his hand coming to rest on your thigh as his nose began to nuzzle from your cheek to your ear.

“Ever stop and think I could handle myself, demon boy? Maybe I can cast a spell or a curse on you to turn you into a frog.”

A genuine laugh left him this time as he pulled away from the closeness, and he motioned for the bartender to bring you both a fresh drink. “I think if you could do so, you would’ve done it by now, no? Dumb human, tryin’ to be threanin’, how cute.”

He motioned towards the drink in front of you, taking a swallow from his own before returning to his previous position, cheek in hand. You made a show of huffing a sigh and rolling your eyes, before taking the drink and swallowing half the cup in one go.

“Daring little human! I like that. Might take my time eating you instead of all at once.”

The mention of ‘eating’ made a shutter run up your spine.

Damn. Had he gotten some advice on this role-play from Leviathan? He was way too good at it suddenly that it even had you feeling fooled. He was confident, even cocky, that smirk plastered on his delicious lips having you completely under his spell. Where had that tsundere way of his gone in all of this? You had agreed to this idea as a fun time for his birthday, but now were you the one being promised more fun than the birthday boy?

Mammon pulled you from your thoughts by taking your hand in his and bringing you to stand next to him. He leaned forward to press his lips to your ear and whispered, “Come with me,” as he led you out to the dance floor, blending into the throng of people with ease at his side. With a simple flick of his wrist, he flared you out onto the floor, then pulled you into a tight embrace, your back to his chest as his free arm came to wrap around your waist. He moved your hips in time with his own, the rhythm even with that of the music blaring around the both of you.

You could feel the heat of his body spilling into your own, making your flesh tingle and your chest tighten. It sincerely amazed you how well he could control your movements to be in time with his own, your dancing suddenly becoming of interest to a few other couples who were slowing their own pace to watch you two.

You were suddenly hyper aware of the several pairs of eyes on you, making your body react of its own accord; and Mammon noticed. He chuckled by your ear, pressing his pelvis against your bottom.

“Perverted human,” he growled, “enjoying these demons eyeing you while you dance with the Great Mammon. Would love for me to take you right here in front of them, wouldn’t ya?”

You sucked in a breath and bit your lip as he ground himself against you, only to cover it up with another flare of movements, turning you out before pulling you back and having you chest to chest with him. You could see his golden-blue eyes had darkened now as he looked down at you.

“How ‘bout we get outta here, human?”

---

The ride to ‘Mammon’s place’ in his Demonio 666 Lexura was filled with deep, exploring kisses and full hand groping, as he refused to let you leave his lap, even as he drove. He kept the act up even, calling you his ‘special human’ and occasionally ‘dumb human’ when you would moan a little too loudly or grind into him in a very needy way; all in a teasing manner, of course.

The two of you barely made it into the foyer, glued to each other as he continued to kiss and press you to him, his own growls and groans beginning to escape as the two of you made your way to his room. Once behind the closed, and locked, door, clothing began to be shed in a path towards his bed, and once he had you completely naked before him, he pressed you into his bed with the weight of his own body.

For a moment, he lets the role-play slip as his eyes shine down lovingly at you. “Such a perfect birthday present,” he seems to mumble more to himself, and leans down to seal your lips with his searing kiss.

After drinking his fill of your kisses and moans, he pulls away and begins to kiss and mark his way down your throat, your chest and stomach, finally stopping at your navel to kiss the spot right above your sex. Before he can fully dive in, you grab his hair and break the immersion.

“Mams, wait! It’s your birthday, dummy, I should be taking care of you! Not the other way around!”

He smacks your hand away and glares at you before giving your bottom a hard swat. “Shut it, ya dumb human!” (There it is again.) “If I want to eat you as my birthday meal, I am gonna eat you! Now lemme dig in!”

Before you can protest further, his mouth is at your sex, all tongue and teeth. Your head falls back hard against the pillow as you bite your lower lip to keep the loud moans from escaping you. But he only becomes more forceful with his ministrations, forcing you to let them out loud and proud to the walls of his room.

“I wanna hear them, all of them,” he mumbles against your sex, diving in more, lapping and sucking at you. Your orgasm sneaks up on you faster than you realize and you cum hard against his mouth, rutting your hips over and over until the high wears down and your body relaxes onto the bed once more.

He climbs atop you once more, wiping his shiny lips on the back of his arm before leaning forward to kiss you deeply, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. You can feel him press between your thighs, his hard and throbbing cock tip pressing against your entrance.

“My turn now,” he mumbles against your lips and you nod almost frantically, rutting against him once more.

“You want me that bad, little human?” he teases, and you whine, continuing your rut.

“I want...I want to please you for your birthday…” you whimper, and his chest tightens at your words.

“D-Dammit MC…” he mumbles, before leaning forward to kiss you again and press his cock deep inside you.

You see stars as he picks a brutal pace to begin with, his hips ramming into yours over and over as his arms hug you to his chest possessively. He growls out ‘Mine’ and ‘My present’ several times as his grip tightens around you. Your own arms come to wrap around his shoulders, a hand burying in his white hair only to feel his onyx horns beginning to sprout out.

His wings beat wildly at his back once they take form, and he presses harder against you, his cock to the hilt, full and hard within you. Your eyes screw shut at the fullness, and surely he pushes you into another, hard orgasm, making you tense and tighten against him.

“M-My MC! All mine! My birthday gift! Mine, mine, mine!”

He repeats the words as if to himself over and over, pounding away at your tightness until he finally cums hard inside you, filling you up with his seed. He stays flush against you, even after coming down from his high, and cuddles you in his arms. He continues to nuzzle and kiss on your cheek and neck, until you squirm in his hold a bit.

“Nah, little human, you aren’t going anywhere now. You’re trapped by the Great Mammon and will be his next meal.”

You roll your eyes and laugh. “Still on with the role-play? You already called me by my name, more than once I might add,” you tease.

You see the flush spread in his cheeks, the tsundere side slowly rearing its head once more.

“Maybe I just like callin’ you my human or something,” he mumbles, pulling you tighter against him. “‘Sides, it’s still my birthday. I can call you whatever I want on my birthday!”

“Even if you call me yours over and over?”

“Oh shuddup, dumb human…”

#obey me #obey me shall we day #mammon #gn!mc #mammon x mc #fanfiction #fanfic #happy birthday mammon

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falsegoodnight · 3 years

Text

these are the fics I read or reread and enjoyed this month! like last time, i’m separating it into different sections: main list, podfics, wips, and non-1d. rereads will be included in the main list and marked with *.

*note: this list encompasses the fics i’ve read from the 1st to the 25th and any fics read after will be included in next month’s fic rec list because otherwise this is going to be obnoxiously long.

—

main list ~

✰ black cherries and chocolate by @harryanthus | NR | 666 (intense and jarring in the best way. this leaves you with that heart-racing feeling and panic crawling up your throat)

There is something or well, someone in the walls.

✰ keep secrets just to keep you by @hadestyles | T | 1k (loved this so much!! and need 1000000 more royalty abos from rori immediately)

“With the elements as my witness, I take you to be my husband. My heartbeat begins with you and ends with you, Louis Tomlinson.” Louis sinks to his knees as well, salty tears mixing with the pure rainwater. “And I take you as mine. My heart beats for you and with you.”

✰ bitter coffee and sweet love by @dontfuckwithmyotp | G | 1k (so cute and sweet!! proud of you ari for getting your first fic out and excited to see what you do next!)

“Hello! Welcome to The Busy Bean! Are you new?” Louis blinked in surprise at the voice and looked around to find the source. “Behind you,” The person tapped his shoulder once and he whirled around at the unexpected touch.

“Hey! Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to interrupt a person—” His rant stopped when he finally faced them. It was a guy—Harry Styles, according to his small black name tag. His eyes widened in embarrassment.

✰ turn your mic off, baby by @vogueharrystan | E | 2k (i love when lilli writes harry’s pov. this was so hot!)

Louis walks around the house naked all day and ignores Harry to play video games instead. Harry gets tired of it.

✰ This Could Be Love by mulletharry | G | 2k (such a cute and perfect little valentine’s day fic! put the biggest smile on my face <3)

Harry and Louis have been together for four months. They spend their first Valentine’s Day together.

✰ you appear as my soul by @hadestyles | T | 2k (so gorgeous and raw)

He aches — not as much as Louis, he could never imagine all that he bears quietly — and as cruel as it sounds, it keeps reminding him of how fragile they are.

✰ the energy from your body by sweetielouis | E | 3k (hilarious, hot, and cute!)

Harry and his friends have a popular podcast, for the Valentines Day special they get a bit drunk and talk a bit too comfortably about their friends arses.

It's a good thing Louis doesn't mind it all that much.

✰ look how i remember by @harryanthus | M | 4k (this left me speechless and aching)

He hates it, he wants to scream and tell Harry as much. Kiss me like you mean it. Kiss me as if we are in love. Kiss me like you will never do it again. Kiss me with so much hatred that it turns back to love.

✰ Things Unsaid by @londonfoginacup | G | 5k (so so cute and funny!!)

"That chunky oversized sweater is like a clown outfit made for winter."

It feels like time slows down.

Those words echo in his mind, familiar. Why are they familiar? The— the sweater he saw last week. The one with all the knit squares.

The train slows to a stop and Louis just— he doesn’t move. He feels frozen in place as people surge around him. Suddenly everyone is moving too fast and then just as suddenly the car is near empty, taking off again.

The man is gone.

His soulmate is gone.

✰ reckless serenade by @thepolourryexpress | E | 4k (adorable and funny and amazing!)

Harry's Google search history may or may not look like 'my girlfriend doesn't know we're dating.'

✰ dancing in the moonlight by @outropeace | E | 5k (need 100k more of this immediately, thanks. so wonderful)

Louis’ fuck buddy gets a date for Valentine’s day and he discovers that denial isn’t just a river in Egypt.

✰ The truth is, the stars are falling by larrysbeanies | E | 5k (hot!!! walking-in trope that i love so much)

Harry knows Louis is gay. Hell, he came out to Harry exactly two months ago (when the dreadful dry spell started) because it was becoming increasingly hard to hide the fact that his one night stands were men. And, you know, they’re best friends so there aren’t supposed to be secrets and all that.

Thing is, Louis told Harry he’s gay ergo, Harry is aware that Louis likes men. Why the fuck did he act so normal while fingering him three days ago, then? Is this something straight guys do to their gay best friends in Harry’s world?

Louis would really like to know.

✰ to be used and to be in love by @thelesserneptune | E | 5k (blessed that this is a series. really hot and cute!)

Louis doesn't know why his filthy best friend turned into a vanilla boyfriend and thinks of the perfect birthday present to solve that problem.

✰ on the borderline by @princelouisau | E | 8k (the way danielle writes... poetry. this broke me down and then stitched me back up <3)

Louis makes his choice.

✰ One Step Closer by agrinwithouthiscat | G | 12k (reading asexual hl fics is instant comfort and this was lovely)

The one fake relationship AU where they don't end up together.

✰ i glow pink in the night by @raspberryoatss | E | 12k (hybrid louis perfection, beautiful writing, characters, and story as always!)

Harry reads a lot of articles about hybrids and Louis is determined to prove them wrong.

✰ The Thinker of Tender Thoughts by @speakingwithink | G | 13k (asexual hl again! this one made me cry)

Louis sits on his hands to stop them from shaking as he adds, ‘and I’m ace.’ If only he had glitter, he thinks. Coming out deserves a bit of sparkle.

✰ Kiss Me Once, Kiss Me Twice by @harriblou | M | 13k (enemies with benefits to lovers goodness! so hot and entertaining)

“You’re a fucking brat, you know that,” Harry muttered through clenched teeth, bones already burning with the pure desire and hatred mixing in his body. It was an intoxicating rush of adrenaline and something else that probably came with fucking Louis Tomlinson. He squeezed his neck just a little tighter. “I can’t stand it.”

Their lips were brushing against each other, just moving with the ragged movements of their mouths and harsh breathing.

“You’re a lying piece of shit dickhead,” Louis muttered right back. That was all he did, challenge and nag. He loved to have the last word and Harry let him because he used all his energy to fuck him mindless.

✰ hold onto your stars by vashtaneradas | NR | 16k (this writer’s atmosphere/prose draws me in every time. such a lovely story)

Harry's in the army, Louis' back home, and ninety days is a lifetime.

✰ The Future is Now by @jacaranda-bloom | E | 16k (love fics in this five times format and this one was so unique and cool!! and the friends to lovers aspect = chef’s kiss)

Five times Louis follows the fortunes to seek out his true love, and the one time he realises that what he's been searching for might've been right in front of him the whole time.

✰ Visceral Heat & Carnal Highs by @theisolatedlily | E | 18k (the prose in this... gorgeous. so fucking good and addicting. delighted that there’s going to be a sequel and excited for whatever lily does next!)

Louis is a demon at a house party prowling for a meal, indulging in horrendous sins to satisfy his hunger. Harry is the talk of the night, beckoning all eyes on him and the reason why Louis’s plan goes awry.

✰ deFENCEless by @solvetheminourdreams | T | 27k (this was so cute and so funny and i had the biggest smile on my face the entire time. not surprised since stef always evokes that in me with her writing)

When Louis butts heads with his new neighbor who loves to garden a little too much, all he can do to protect his yard (and heart), is keep on building up his fence(s).

✰ darling, you give love a bad name by snowcaplou | M | 29k (been waiting for this one since summer and i wasn’t disappointed! so wonderful and real!)

Louis’ has been best friends with Gemma all his life in this stupid little town he’s grown to hate. What happens when, after one night together with his best friend’s brother, he falls pregnant? Surrounded by small minds and conservative cultures, Louis has to deal with parents that demand they do the “right” thing. Get married before anybody finds out.

✰ The Haunting of Louis Tomlinson* by @helloamhere | T | 31k (will never not be an all-time favorite. louis’ character is my absolute favorite - gothic heroine indeed - and harry is the best dramatic gay ghost ever <3)

Louis is a plucky Gothic Heroine, Harry is a Mournful Spirit, and Big Country Houses are full of mystery and suspense, as Big Country Houses ever are!

✰ begged and borrowed time by @bottomlwt | M | 40k (this concept was so unique and so cool!! loved the medieval setting and the time travel and how everything fit together in the end!!)

“It wasn’t until 1568 that it became time for Prince Harry to find a queen and prepare to rule. However, the day he was set to choose his bride-to-be, he mysteriously disappeared, never to be seen again despite the multiple search parties that went on through the years. To this day, historians still do not know what happened with the infamous Prince Styles case..."

✰ Lidocaine and Palm Trees.* by @daddyharrie | E | 45k (definition of ris comfort read - on nth reread and still love it wholly. makes me miss la which is an astonishing feat in itself)

Heat, fake tans and lots of traffic.

Harry never expected to earn his living this way when he moved to LA.

Louis didn't think he could ever be the same after his divorce.

A lighthearted story about two guys trying to find themselves in the vibrant, sprawling city of Los Angeles, with a side of technical porn industry stuff.

✰ haunted by the ghost of you* by @missandrogyny | E | 49k (perhaps my favorite fic of all time? the humor, the characters, the angst?!?! all the britney spears!! and pink ouija boards and wikihow!!)

He’s tall—that’s the first thing that registers in Louis’ head when he spots him, standing with his hands behind his back. Tall, with curly hair, staring at them with the widest, greenest eyes Louis has ever seen. And wait, are those dimples? Louis didn’t know ghosts could have dimples.

Because he’s definitely a ghost, this boy. At first glance he looks normal, standing there pigeon-toed in a band shirt (The Ramones, Louis can’t help but note incredulously), dark jeans, and some boots, with rings on both hands, and tattoos littering his left arm—a sleeve made of anchors and names and roses and other completely unrelated things. But he’s also a little bit translucent; if Louis focuses, he can see the outline of the furniture, the design of the wallpaper through him.

“Hi,” the boy—the ghost—says to Louis. His face shifts; somehow his dimples dig deeper into his cheeks. His eyes flit from Louis, to Niall, to Liam, and finally to Zayn, and his face goes from shocked to elated. “I’m Harry.”

At in that exact moment, standing between three of his best friends and staring at a (quite handsome) ghost, Louis can only think one thing.

Nick Grimshaw was right.

✰ like real people do by @eeveelou | E | 64k (this was... so amazing. the characters were so wonderfully written and so was the journey of healing and growth that louis undertakes over the story :’) loved the contrast between l and h’s lives and how they fit into each other still so perfectly)

Jessica Jones AU in which the dead stay where they belong, featuring Zayn as the high-powered lawyer with a hopeless crush on his assistant Liam, Niall as the constantly stoned but strangely insightful neighbor, Harry as Manhattan’s media darling, and Louis as the never-was hero who’s just trying to pick up the pieces.

✰ Black With Autumn Rain by whimsicule | T | 93k (i actually can’t remember if i’ve read this before??? either way - it was wonderful! loved the setting and atmosphere and the supernatural elements! i was so intrigued from the first sentence onwards)

Harry is a journalist, Louis has lots of secrets and the moors aren’t exactly the ideal place to rekindle a lost romance.

podfics ~

✰ tall stories on the page by @soldouthaz & read by @softlouislove | T (hannah’s voice is so lovely and perfect for reading aloud - and ofc the fic itself is amazing)

Harry's tired of being interviewed by people that only care about the same pointless gossip. Louis is a nice change of pace.

wips ~

✰ Truth Behind Golden Eyes by @lwtisloved | E | 60k | 6/16 (just caught up fully today but i’m really enjoying everything! this is everything i’ve ever wanted in a fantasy fic)

Louis is a royal servant born with magic in a kingdom where his sole existence is outlawed with a war he has no idea he has a part in upon him. Harry is the prince on whom the burden of mending a broken kingdom falls upon and he might be willing to risk it all for a simple servant if only he admitted it to himself.

✰ ‘cause all our tomorrows lead the way by @loubellies | E | 39k | 3/10 (having a blast reading this one!! i’ve never seen the bachelor in my life but in fic-format, it’s so fun!)

So maybe Louis’ in over his head.

He had signed up for the Bachelor on a whim after his second bottle of wine and well, here he is. He’s just been announced as the twenty-sixth Bachelor and his ass is sweating. Like, literally sweating. He’s positive that if he was to turn around, the entirety of Bachelor Nation would get a nice peek of his ass sweat.

✰ The Night Still Whispers Sins of Old by @toomanydreamers | E | 6k | 2/? (loving this so much, as expected. can’t wait to see how everything unfolds)

Two and a half years have passed since the fateful day when Louis and Harry were crowned Triwizard champions. Confronted with misunderstandings, wounded pride and heartache, Louis stumbled away from the possibility of a future relationship with Harry. Instead, he buried himself into relentless work as a junior Auror and refused to let himself be vulnerable with another person. Circumstances change that force Louis to confront his feelings - and Harry. Stolen glances, picnics at sunrise, thrilling adventures, original spellwork, midnight feasts, soft lips and cautious second chances culminate in an unforgettable mission - but will it be enough to mend their relationship?

non-1d ~

✰ like a bullet needs a gun by @millsxwriting | T | 21k | wilds au (despite me having no context, mills still got me to fall in love with toni and shelby. this was so cute and lovely!!)

Toni doesn’t expect to fall for anyone in her senior year. Least of all for Shelby Goodkind, the new girl that arrived in town just before the end of summer. In fact, Toni can’t even look at her for longer than two seconds, or listen to more than three sentences coming out of her mouth without wanting to accidentally push her off a cliff.

Cue a group project and endless bickering, and suddenly Toni finds herself with an unbearable crush.

If you read any of these beautiful works of art, remember to leave kudos and comment to show your appreciation!

*if i made any errors, please let me know :)

enjoy!

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localswordlesbian · 3 years

Text

rose-coloured boy

The Lonely left it's mark on Martin, with his formerly dark brown hair going a stark white the moment the fog touched him. Whenever he sees his reflection in the mirror, he sees the man who became the victim of a fear that nearly swallowed him whole. So he decides that a bottle of pink hair dye is the way to go.

(or: a bunch of friends were sending art of pink haired martin on discord and I was inspired, thank you to @bagginshield and @m-e-w-666 for encouraging me to write this <3)

read it on ao3 or below the cut

Martin was beginning to wonder whether he’d fucked up.

He watched as the water vanished down the drain before his eyes, tinged ever so slightly pink as it ran freely from his head and into the sink. Hunched over the cold ceramic, Martin listened to the music he’d set to play from the speakers to occupy his mind while he waited for the water to run clear, a process which was taking an almost infuriatingly long time. Despite the music, his mind was spinning – he couldn’t remember what, exactly, had spurred him to dye his hair. His walk to the convenience store down the road had almost disappeared from his memory, as though he’d done it in a daze, and he hadn’t hesitated before pulling the plastic gloves onto his hands and squeezing the light pink goop from the bottle onto his head.

Half an hour of sitting on the cold bathroom floor, paired with being hunched over the sink which was too short for someone of Martin’s height, was beginning to cause his muscles to tighten and his bones to ache. Eventually, the water spilling over his head finally ran clear and Martin straightened, his spine popping as his unruly curls flung water all over the bathroom. Sighing as he grabbed a towel and began to dry off his hair, Martin stretched. He kept his eyes away from the mirror – he knew this had been his decision, but a deep-seated fear squirmed through his gut at the thought of seeing his own reflection; what if he hated it? What if he regretted it immediately and had no way of getting the dye out?

He shook his head. Spiralling into a panic over nothing wasn’t going to help, he tried to tell himself. Towel still wrapped around his hair, he left the bathroom and stepped onto the cold tile of his kitchen.

Tea would calm him down, he reasoned. Tea usually calmed him down. Martin got the kettle, two teabags, and two mugs, and got to work – it was a calming process, and that combined with the music still spilling from the living room was enough to distract him from his panic about his hair.

As he was seeping the tea in the boiling water, he heard the distinct sound of the front door unlocking and someone coming inside. A smile pulled at Martin’s cheeks as he saw a familiar figure enter the kitchen.

“Welcome back,”

Jon smiled at him, his tired expression lifted as his eyes met Martin’s. “Thank you. Perfect timing,” he noted, gesturing to the tea.

Martin laughed, and the sound seemed to make Jon smile wider. “Yeah, it is.”

The two stood in amicable silence while Martin finished making and pouring the tea, handing Jon his mug. His scarred hand wrapped around Martin’s as he accepted the tea, giving his boyfriend’s hand a squeeze. They stood in the kitchen as they sipped their drinks, music continuing to pour in a continuous stream of company as they enjoyed each others’.

“Is that a new fashion accessory or something?”

Martin looked up suddenly. “What?”

Jon gestured to his head. “The towel. I wouldn’t normally point it out, but you never wear a towel on your head when you shower, so…”

Martin smiled softly – the fact that Jon knew that about him was still a little pleasant surprise sometimes. “Oh, uh. Yeah. Well..” Jon tilted his head sideways, waiting for Martin to continue. Sighing, Martin grabbed the towel with one hand and yanked it off his head. “It was sort of an… impulsive decision,” he explained.

Jon seemed to study him for a moment before setting his mug down and walking over to stand in front of Martin. Reaching up, he hesitated before making content, and at Martin’s nod he took a strand between his fingers. Martin could see that the colour was very pale, an almost pastel pink, just dark enough to be noticeable but not so much so that it would call attention. Jon gave a soft smile. “I think it looks lovely,” he murmured. “Why the sudden impulse, though?”

Martin finally let himself consider that question, the question he hadn’t let himself think about since he made the decision to venture out to the store to buy the dye in the first place. He thought about all he and Jon had been through the past few years, the horrendous traumas they’d both faced – the degradation of both of their psyches at the hands of their power hungry immortal boss. Jon’s scars were a constant reminder of the avatars who had wanted them dead simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and after the Lonely–

“I suppose I didn’t want to be reminded of it anymore.” Jon tipped his head sideways, urging Martin to continue. “Every time I looked in the mirror, I could see it – the fog, the blurry horizon hardly even there, the vague silhouettes of people who were just as alone as I was. And it’s not like I could justify it with “going grey young;” it was white, Jon. There was no– no compartmentalizing it anymore. And I just couldn’t bear it.”

A beat passed, then Jon reached up and brushed the pad of his thumb across Martin’s cheek – Martin hadn’t even realized he’d been crying. He wordlessly took Martin’s hands and led him over to the couch – Martin sank gratefully into the cushions, suddenly exhausted. He felt weary down to his bones, as though a film of grey had settled over his vision and made his brain all fuzzy and spaced out. Jon said nothing, simply held Martin’s hands in his, running his thumb over the knuckles in a soothing back and forth motion.

“I don’t know how long I’ll have to wait until I– until I forget,” he confessed in a broken whisper.

Jon let out a dry, humourless laugh. “Love, I don’t think either of us will ever forget what we went through.” He squeezed Martin’s hands. “Though, that’s not to say we’ll never move past it.”

Martin nodded. “I feel like I’m giving in.”

“To what?”

“I don’t know, the fear? Peter Lukas and the Lonely? Heroes are always supposed to rock their scars, hell even you live with constant reminders of what you went through painted on your body, but I can’t even look at myself without feeling… cold. Cold and lonely and abandoned.”

Jon lifted one of Martin’s hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to the knuckles. “I’m sorry.”

Martin shook his head. “Jon. It’s not your fault. None of it was, or is.”

Jon nodded. “I know, I–” he broke off, squeezing Martin’s hands again. “I can’t promise that it will get better. The nightmares, the memories, the… the habits. But I can promise I’ll never abandon you ever again. I never want you to feel like you’re alone, not as long as I’m with you.”

“You didn’t abandon me the first time. I chose to work for Lukas, I chose to sacrifice myself. That wasn’t your fault.”

“You’re deflecting.”

“So are you!”

Jon laughed. “I suppose you’re right. My point is, I don’t want you to feel like you’re alone. I’ll always be by your side, no matter what. No matter the colour of your hair,” he added fondly, lifting one hand to thread it through Martin’s curls. Martin leaned into the touch, taking comfort in the simplicity of this moment – sat on the couch, with tea that had gone cold, two broken people desperately trying to figure out how to simply be in a world that had taken so much from them.

Jon leaned closer, tilting his head in a silent invitation, one which Martin accepted by pressing their lips together – it was a soft kiss, a gentle one, a reminder that not all was lost, that despite it all they still had each other. Jon’s hand threaded through Martin’s hair, and Martin savoured every sensation as he cupped Jon’s cheek and felt the stubble scrape his palm. This was what had been missing in the Lonely – the feeling of touch, of direct contact with another person without feeling as though there was a layer of something between him and anyone or anything around him. But here, in this tiny flat, he was present in this very moment, present for the feeling of his boyfriend’s lips moving against his, a reminder that right now he wasn’t alone. No matter the colour of his hair or the nights where he’d wake up in a cold sweat after a dream where he’d been drowning in fog, his lungs full of cold, wet smoke and his eyes unseeing, Jon would be there.

Jon hummed against his lips, and Martin pulled away. “What?”

His boyfriend has a small smile on his face. “I just realized something,” he said. “You’re a real rose-coloured boy.”

Martin barked a laugh. “Really? That’s your great realization?”

Jon pouted. “I thought it was cute.”

Martin chuckled, brushing his lips over Jon’s again and pulling away before he could press closer. Jon let out a petulant growl, and Martin grinned. “You’re cute.”

“Am not!”

“Yes you are, don’t deny it.”

“If I agree, can I kiss you again?” Martin nodded. “Fine, then I’m adorable.”

Still grinning, Martin brought his lips to Jon’s again, and they stayed on that couch for a good long while.

After this, they’d go about their regular days. Martin still didn’t know whether he’d be able to bear his own reflection, now that his hair was no longer the stark white it had turned after the Lonely. He knew that this wouldn’t keep the nightmares at bay, the terrifying dreams of losing Jon to a fog so thick he could hardly move through it, of losing himself piece by piece as everyone walked by, of being forgotten and discarded as though he’d never mattered. He knew this wouldn’t solve anything long term.

Maybe that was okay. Maybe this was the first step.

That night, Martin looked up from the sink and beheld the pink curls on top of his head for the first time. He held his reflection’s stare, as if challenging it to go after him. The memories weren’t gone, but the telltale twist of a corkscrew of panic driving its way into his chest was, for once, absent. He simply felt… normal.

What normal was, Martin could only hope it wouldn’t remain that way forever. Jon was right – he’d never forget, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t heal, piece by piece, bit by bit, never alone again.

Perhaps that was enough.

#tma #the magnus archives #the magnus archives fic #tma fic #jonmartin #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #alternate ending #nobody dies #fix-it #fics have become serotonin let me live #angst with a happy ending #this is getting me through the semester #eboy martin #pink haired martin #i'd like to give him one hug #jonny sims do not interact

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