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florencemtrash · 5 months

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The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Five

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warning: Gore, violence, some angst

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

Meryl struggled forward, trying to keep from tripping on his floor-length robes. A head of ivory hair trailed out after him at a leisurely pace. A blood red hand at her side gripped a slick shortsword. The blade mimicked the cruel curve of her horns.

You remembered her from the party.

Teal silk and blood and the lake.

Koschei.

His hand dove into the folds of his robe, withdrawing a dull knife. You caught her smile before she dodged Meryl’s swift kick, sword arching down in a swing that cut cleanly through his back leg.

You didn’t stay to watch the second swing that nearly separated Meryl’s head from his shoulders. The street was still eerily silent.

Meryl hadn’t gotten the chance to raise the alarms.

You ran to the other side of your apartment, knocking one of the windows open. The smell of smoke, acrid and bitter, flooded your nose. Your stomach turned, nearly emptying itself of your dinner.

A blanket of haze covered the bottom floor, the flickering of flames beginning to lick up the outer edges of the massive room.

The Alcove - your home - was on fire.

Your apartment was built separately from The Alcove with no direct path linking the two together. Normally you would simply walk down the stairs and enter through one of The Alcove’s main entrances with its hand-carved archways and stone pegasuses. But with the murderous female lurking outside, that was simply not an option.

You pulled the neck of your sweater up and over the lower half of your face, ignoring the stinging of your eyes. You steeled your nerves and slid your foot out, finding purchase on the decorative molding that lined the walls. Many times you’d thought about scaling the walls instead of trekking down dozens of flights of stairs. You’d never actually done it.

The soft skin of your palms protested as you shimmied your way down and then jumped the last ten feet onto the walkway. There was no grace in your movements, and no time to dwell on the rough landing before you began flying down the stairs, begging the Mother and Meryl to give you time to cross the expanse of the library.

Meryl’s apartment lay on the opposite side of The Alcove on the first floor, and unlike your apartment, had a door leading directly to the stacks. The white rune, carved into Meryl’s door, stared at you like the eye of a god.

Some vague myths about ancient giants crossed your mind. They’d been worshiped in these lands before the rise of the High Lords with brains so vast you could climb in through their ears and walk amongst the grooves like a child in a corn maze. You felt like that child now, the familiar turns and patterns of the atheneum slipping away into mist.

You had no patience to walk the last flights of stairs. You threw yourself off the lower walkway, ankle twisted painfully beneath you as you crumpled onto the floor.

Just make it to the door. Just make it to the door.

The first duty of a Librarian was to save the atheneum. Always.

Again that white rune stared at you from across the floor, winking with the flashes of firelight as the flames gorged themselves on book pages.

Save the Alcove.

You ignored the pain in your leg, running towards the door with gritted teeth. Three bodies littered the floor, blood blossoming around colorful robes like roses in springtime.

Save the Alcove.

You wrenched the knife from the sliver in the wall, slicing your palm open with a sharp intake of breath. Warm blood spilled out, dripping onto the floor and then down the wall as you pressed your palm against the rune, muttering the words all Librarians knew by heart - words that would seal The Alcove from the outside world and draw all oxygen from within.

“Beali tchnemonon aschzernai belar-” The rune began to glow, rivers of white light tracing the carving on the door. The doors began to groan as threads of magic shot outward, weaving through the stone and preparing to seal it shut.

“Stop. Say nothing.” A voice said, soft as velvet and hard as scales.

Your tongue froze up, the rune dimming as teeth sank into the soft flesh of your mind and began to tear through your mental shields.

___________

Azriel chewed carefully, washing down the meat with a swig of sweet wine. All throughout dinner Helion had been glowering at him, one hand gripping the golden hilt of his steak knife like he was prepared to aim it between Azriel’s eyes.

“Did you spend the whole day with her?” Feyre had asked him when he’d finally arrived for dinner twenty minutes late.

Everyone else was dressed in their court attire. Even Cassian had changed out of his leathers and was currently pulling at the high collar of his shirt. But not Azriel. He’d arrived late in plain clothes, hair disheveled and face impassive. He gave a nod in response to Feyre’s silent question before settling down beside Cassian. His brother threw him a knowing wink.

Rhysand looked pleased with himself. Feyre looked pleased. Everyone was pleased… everyone but Helion.

“Finally! The Shadowsinger arrives!” The comment rolled off his tongue and fell flat, “Now we can eat.”

“I apologize, Helion. I lost track of time.” Azriel said truthfully. He had lost track of time. He wished he’d lost track of it for longer. Then he might still be in your living room, dreaming about kissing you.

Dinner was a business affair. Theories about Koschei’s next plans punctuated by the appearance of roasted chestnuts, soft-boiled quail eggs, honey rolls, and stuffed duck on the table.

“He can’t escape the lake.” Rhysand said, “Though the gods know he’s trying.”

“He can’t escape yet.” Helion countered, brows furrowed in concern, “There’s a piece we’re missing to this.”

“The Cauldron.” Feyre ran a lazy finger over the lip of her wineglass to disguise the unease settling in her stomach, “He’s searching for it.” She tilted her head towards Azriel, “Az found evidence that some of Koschei’s followers have been breaking into the temples further up north.”

Helion shook his head, “It wouldn’t do them any good to search an old hiding place. And it’s not like the legs of the Cauldron are with the priestesses anymore. They must be looking for something else.”

“What else is in the temples except old books and ceremonial artifacts?” Cassian asked.

“Old books can sometimes be the most powerful objects in the world.” Helion said with a small smirk, “I wouldn’t look down on them so much.”

“Tell that to a sword.”

“Tell that to a two-thousand page text thrown at your head.”

Cassian grinned, “I would dodge it. Easy.”

“With that inflated head of yours, I’d hardly be able to miss.”

Azriel smiled inwardly. That sounded like something you might say. Not even four hours since he’d last seen you and he was missing your gentle smile, the crease in your brows when you read, the occasional jangle of your bracelets when you shook out the cramps in your wrist.

Feyre thought long and hard, staring at the surface of her wine like the answers might materialize there. She couldn’t get her mind off the Cauldron. The most important events that had taken place in the last fifty years could be tied back to its magic. The magic that currently flooded through Nesta and Elain’s veins.

With its power anything seemed possible - even separating a deity like Koschei from the lake where he’d been confined for centuries.

“What if they’re not looking for the Cauldron itself?” Everyone looked at her, waiting to hear the High Lady’s next words. “What if they’re just looking for something tied to it?”

Cassian dropped his knife to the table with a clang.

“Nesta.” He breathed. He immediately reached out across the bond, feeling Nesta stir on the other side. She was still safe in Velaris, although he pitied any poor soul that tried to go after her.

“Or Elain.” Feyre continued.

It’s no secret they were Made. They wouldn’t need to break into a temple to figure that out or to find out where they’re staying. Rhysand sent his bonds down the bond, one hand reaching out to rub her thigh.

Nesta and Elain could handle themselves, but that didn’t mean Feyre could shed the protective nature she’d developed through her formative human years.

Who else then? Who else has taken power from the Cauldron?

Jurian.

He’s human. He has no magic that Koschei could want. And the human queen has been long dead too.

Helion glanced at Cassian who only waved him off. Rhys and Feyre did this often - getting lost in their private conversations and only sharing their thoughts at the very end.

Meanwhile, Azriel was having his own private thoughts.

Immunity, the innate biological process of recognizing and protecting against foreign entities, is a phenomenon that can be extended and applied to magic.

“How does it apply to mating bonds?” Azriel asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled over the room.

The fire crackled steadily, warming your back as you sat hunched over a volume titled “An Exegesis on the Works of Bhenaui The Stone Giant”.

“Hmmm?” You mumbled.

He pointed to the last page of your paper where an introductory sentence on mating bonds had ended abruptly.

“You didn’t finish your thought.”

“Well, that’s because I’m not completely sure what my thoughts are… at least not yet.”

“Would you tell me your thoughts? Even if you’re not sure?”

You motioned for him to hand it over, the papers floating over to you on a phantom hand made of shadows. You flipped through the pages absentmindedly, your previous thoughts coming to mind as you held your work.

“Parents, children, siblings - they all tend to have similar forms of magic. Magic that recognizes family members the same way that blood does.”

Azriel nodded. He’d already read that section of your paper. Although the thought of sharing some magical connection with his half-brothers and father made his stomach turn, he couldn’t deny your logic.

“I always thought that mating bonds must be some special extension of that. Magic that’s not the same, but perfectly complementary.”

“Like the difference between two sets of keys, versus a key and a lock.”

“Maybe? I suppose that’s not a terrible analogy to make, but I’m not sure.” You shot him a smile, “You’re beginning to think like a Librarian, Azriel.”

His heart sang in his chest, shadows flurrying around him. You’d quickly learned that his shadows gave away more than his face ever would.

“What an insult to Librarians.” He quipped.

You snorted and shook your head, tossing a pen at his head. He caught it easily, just as you knew he would.

A faint flutter of panic grew in the background of his mind, unprompted and unexpected. He pushed it to the side, focusing his attention back on what you’d told him back at your apartment.

“Magic that recognizes family members the same way that blood does.”

Koschei had been brother to The Weaver and The Bone Carver - both dead after centuries, if not more, of confinement to The Prison and The Cottage. It didn’t make sense for him to be searching for them. Perhaps he wanted the Cauldron to bring them back from the dead, but even that seemed like the stretch. Koschei didn’t strike Azriel as the kind of being to care for the safety and life of his siblings.

If Azriel were in Koschei’s position, he wouldn’t be after the Cauldron. Not necessarily. The thing he’d really be dying to know was who had separated him from his power, and how.

“Magic that’s not the same, but perfectly complementary.”

Like a lock and a key.

“Uh… Azriel?” Cassian gently grabbed Azriel’s shoulder, shaking him.

Inky shadows climbed up his hand, the light of his red siphons swallowed up by the darkness that had begun to pour off of Azriel.

That panic was steadily growing into something he couldn’t ignore and he couldn’t stop thinking of you. You with your brilliant ideas and a theory that he still couldn’t quite grasp, like he was trying to hold salt water in his hands.

“Something-something feels wrong.” Azriel gasped out, a scarred hand clutching at his chest. “Cass, something’s not right. Something’s not right.” He repeated the words until he finally recognized what was wrong.

It wasn’t his panic that he was feeling. It was yours.

___________

You screamed, thrashing about on the floor as you gripped your head between your hands.

Get out. Get out. Get out.

You pulled at your hair, slapped your skull like that would be what it took for the female to relinquish her hold on your mind.

She was buried inside like a parasite - a virus slowly taking over the cellular machinery, copying it all down as she rifled through your memories as easily as a picture book.

You shrank away from her as she lingered on one memory in particular.

It was your fortieth birthday, although you didn’t look any older than eight. Helion sat on the floor, long legs extending beyond the cramped space between the fireplace and the couch. It was a small apartment you shared with your mother with its pale green walls and yellow daisy curtains.

He filled every inch of it with light. His smile was so dazzling you thought he must have been one of the fairytale knights you’d spent every night obsessing over. He certainly played the part, gifting you a wooden pegasus with wings that hovered a foot above the ground when you asked it to.

“You can’t keep doing this, Helion.” You’d stayed hidden at the top of the stairs, your pegasus nuzzling into your side and then going still.

“She’s my daughter, Leda. What am I meant to do?”

“You’re meant to leave us alone.”

“Leda-”

“She’s growing too slowly. You saw her today, she should be fully grown by now.”

“...I know.”

“If anyone finds out who she is… the power she possesses. Mother help us…”

“I know. I’m-I’m sorry, Leda.”

“You can’t keep doing this.”

That was the last childhood memory you’d had of him, and when the pegasus’s magic had worn off, leaving him stiff and immoble, the novelty of having a knight for a father had worn off too.

You were crying now, tears streaming down your ash-stained cheeks as the female above you clicked her forked tongue. Her eyes were two chips of moonstone split by wide, rectangular pupils.

“A High Lord’s bastard.” She sang with pleasure. “How fun.” She leaned down and grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking it up so forcefully you had to bite your tongue to keep from screaming. “No. No.” She clicked her tongue in disappointment, “Don’t stop. I want to hear you scream. Scream.”

With a roar of anger you latched onto her arm, immediately feeling a flood of memories and emotion pour into your mind.

Sick, twisted satisfaction. Pleasure. Meryl’s decapitated body hastily hidden behind a pillar. When she’d gone down into the lower levels of The Alcove, searching for the diary, she hadn’t expected to see him there. Hadn’t expected him to give her a hard time. Hadn’t expected him to fight back.

The three other fae, slaughtered in haste. Koschei would not be pleased. He would not let her join him on the lake. But she had the book. She had the book.

The female hissed, the disorienting motion of being in your mind while you were in hers causing panic. She’d been trained to keep others out of her mind. She’d endured far more training than you had. So why couldn’t she kick you out?

More memories. More emotions. Rising fear. You soothed it using the training she’d received. She wasn’t the virus. You were. You felt all her memories. The terrible aftermath of war on the continent. The feeling of being burned alive.

The female was trying to break away from you now, but you wouldn’t let her, not even as the smoke grew so thick it clogged your lungs. You felt her memories as if they were your own, and so long as she was in your mind, she was forced to experience it all as well.

His power is beneath the lake. Trapped. Buried. He can’t leave his soul behind. Can’t diminish himself any further. He can’t leave the lake.

Koschei.

The lake. What’s buried beneath the lake?

Andrian. ANDRIAN!!!

Get the key. Get the key. Get the key.

The scream of her brother’s voice as Koschei splits his head in two.

When your eyes burst open they’re so bright the female turns her face away, sobbing. Your blood soaked hand searches the floor for the knife you dropped, the knife you can see is less than a foot away. But you’re not looking at it. She is.

She registers what you plan to do. Every thought of hers reflected in your mind like a ghostly afterimage. But it’s too late.

You grip the knife in your hand.

Slam it through her eye and out the back of her skull.

It’s a strange feeling to be in someone’s mind when they die. To feel like it’s your body slowly fading from existence with one final breath.

The female’s body slumps motionless over yours, and her final memories of her brother play out one last time.

…Then it’s just silence and the crackling of the ever approaching flames.

When Azriel reaches The Alcove, the windows have all burst, angry tongues of fire licking the sky and gasping for breath.

“Y/N!” Azriel roars, shooting off towards the door so hard the cobblestones crack beneath his feet. “Y/N!”

White lights begin to splinter up the stone walls, filling invisible cracks that begin to take the shape of ancient runes. Swirls, symbols, repeating lines trace their way over the windows, sealing them shut as the flames start to hiss in protest, eating up the oxygen faster than they can draw breath.

The door has been blown apart, the inside of The Alcove nothing more than a hurricane of ash and smoke. But when Azriel reaches them, he slams into an impenetrable wall of magic.

“NO!” He crashes against the barrier. Light scatters outward, but holds against the shadows that burst forth from Azriel’s body. Power explodes from his siphons, but still the magic holds.

“Y/N! Y/N!” He flies up to the windows and tries again to no avail.

The bond is still there, burning away in his chest with a passion.

He will not lose you. Not like this. Not today.

He touches back down on the ground, legs braced on the street as blue light begins to wrap around his chest and arms. His shadows mix in with them like ink in a tumultuous sea.

He’s about to let his power flood out when he sees it - two dim pinpricks of light that pass through the barrier as easily as sparrows diving through the air.

You’re nothing more than a gray shadow, your knees and hands coated in a mixture of ash and blood, as you emerge from the roaring flames. Your eyes gleam a pale yellow, seeing and unseeing at the same time. You make it to the front steps and when you stumble, Azriel is there to catch you, one arm looping around your waist and you’re immediately thrust into another memory.

It’s dark and cold in the cellar. So dark that even after two days the most Azriel can do to prove he still exists is to slap his legs, then his arms, then his face. Then he knows he’s still alive. It’s the pain that helps him remember.

“Y/n. Y/n. I need you to look at me.” Your eyes are unfocused, still glowing as Azriel helps you walk forward, one hand clasping yours close to his chest. “Y/n. Y/n. Please. Darling, please.”

His mother sings to him, a gentle, sweet melody that’s filled with more sorrow than words. His hands are heavy with gauze and ointment, the lingering pain magnifying and shooting through his small body whenever he moves them to touch his mother’s face or to wrap his arms around her neck.

But this is the only hour he’ll get with her this week. So he ignores the pain. He savors only the feeling of his mother’s arms around his weak back and the song she sings, hanging onto every word and committing them to memory.

You’re vaguely aware of Helion’s deep voice shouting your name. When he touches you, you can feel his relief as acutely as the rumble of thunder before rain. The emotion rolls over you, calming your heart.

For a brief moment you’re still the little girl he placed on top of the pegasus on your fortieth birthday. For a brief moment your mother is still alive, suppressing the smile on her lips as she watches the creature wobble to life, shake its wings, and begin to fly.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

We're getting into the action/plot now folks! Hold on tight because I have IDEAS! It's going to take time for me to explain it all in the story, but I promise you I have a plan

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#azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel x mate reader #the inner circle #acotar fanfiction #azriel fanfiction #azriel spymaster #azriel fanfic #the shadowsinger and the inkbird #the day court

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seattlesellie · 1 year

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Can you write an ellie fic where she's getting off to photos of reader and moaning readers name and reader walks in on her

million times yes <3 ☁️🤍🐚🌫️

warnings: mdni!, masturbation, ellie’s a little bit of a weirdo, ellie gets caught.

Oops ♡

For you, being Ellie’s roommate was... hard. Unwashed dishes, the occasional sight of her boxer briefs messily laying around on the living room floor (“They fell from the laundry basket” she told), old crumpled yellow papers on the fuzzy carpet, an unwashed ashtray and a shit-ton of disorganized cards and pins adorning every single corner of the apartment.

But for for Ellie, oh, for Ellie it was even harder.

She always had a soft spot for things she’d never get. Your empty shampoo bottles never bothered her, neither did your habit of constantly forgetting to blow out the vanilla scented candles you lit once in a while, even after she told you they could be a fire hazard every. single. time.

What bothered Ellie, weren’t your complains, and neither were the repeating sounds and buzzes of your alarm clock followed by exactly eight hits on the snooze button (she counts, the walls are pretty thin).

What bothered Ellie, is that you didn’t give a single fuck about her. Or at least, that’s what she had convinced herself of.

When you’d lounge pretty on the couch, nestled within a cozy woolen blanket, your fingers tirelessly swiping and swiping and swiping through every single dating app known to man, she’d watch you intently, and stare.

It wasn’t because she was judging you, god knows she had a tinder phase herself (Amanda was her last straw. she said Ellie talked about her roommate “too much”, that she “needed to figure that shit out”, and then added a huff and a sigh followed by a “fucking lesbians, man”)

It was because she didn’t fucking get it. Could you not see what’s right in front of you? you didn't seem to... grasp the obvious. Don’t get it wrong, Ellie was not overconfident, and neither was she cocky. She just… noticed. She was observant by nature, and she knew, she was convinced shed never heard you laugh the way you do with her, with anybody else in the world. When your best friends were over for a girls night— even then, she would hear muted laughter and the occasional screech (barely audible over the backdrop of "The Smiths" blaring through her headphones) but never, ever, did that breathy, real, borderline on wheezing sound escape your mouth when you were with them. It was idly saved for her.

She’d take her earphones out— because perhaps she’d missed it, maybe she was delusional, maybe you did laugh like that— and then, plug them back in when she was met with silence or the gentle symphony of peaceful snores, and return to the solace of her music. She’d hollow in deep slumber, and have incredibly bizarre dreams of her pretty roommate roaming and floating around the apartment only in her underwear— and for some reason, a horn on her head. Dreams were fucking weird, man.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

“The Truman Show” played on tv. Jim Carey just made a funny face, and Ellie shoved another slice of greasy, brooklyn pizza in her mouth. She chewed, loudly (you sighed) and wiped her lips on her shoulder.

“I’d literally lose it if I found out my life was a tv show” you remarked, your eyes shifting from the remaining pizza to the flickering television screen.

“Meh” Ellie shrugged.

“I’d lose it if it was a video game though. Imagine if like— someone controlled every single movement you made… scary, man”

She huffed, and threw the pizza crust on the table. It fell on the floor. These fucking ants would come again, you knew they would! you gave her a stern look.

“Sorry” she softly sighed, and bent down to pick the crust off the pavement. Her boxers poked through her sweats, you looked across the room, and then you looked again. God.

“Plug you on their PS5, and go… ham and stuff” you giggled.

“Wild shit…” she shrugged. “Wild shit”

Jim Carey’s character just met the deepest corner of its own little world.

Ellie’s eyes were glued to the screen, even though she’d seen that flick about a million times.

You scrolled through your phone mindlessly. You know she hated when you did that while watching something with her— but you did it anyways. Something about the way her eyebrows scrunched together when she peaked at the screen through the corner of her eye always made your heart flutter. She pouted, and you tried to hide the way your lips curled upwards into a small smile.

“Should I post this on insta?” you questioned, handing ellie your phone. She took it in her hands, and the brightness was so high her eyes twinkled.

She bit her bottom lip, and then her top one.

“You’re like… half naked in that” she huffed. She wasn’t wrong, the bikini was so so tiny and the salt water covering your body, making it practically glisten in the sun, didn’t help the sensual undertones of said picture.

“I know” you stated.

She looked at you, and then looked at the screen again. Don’t look too long, she thought to herself. She handed the phone back to you, and stared at the television. Great, she just missed the best part!

“Is that a no?” you quipped.

“That’s a… who are you posting that for?” she tried asking casually, and mask her jealousy with curiosity.

There must be someone. there just must. Perhaps it’s for that girl you talked to on Bumble… shit, maybe its for that blonde from work or the one with the long braids that waved to you for too long who Ellie had made her arch enemy. Or maybe it was for that fucking ex girl—

“Why would you think I’m posting it… for someone?”

Ellie sighed, and rolled her eyes.

“Cause you look good in it.”

She gulped, and moved a hair strand from her face. it itched, all of a sudden.

“Or like— you look naked or something.”

You rolled your eyes back, and yawned.

“Is that a no?” you questioned.

“No what?” she snickered.

“Is that a no i shouldn’t post?” you removed a microscopic piece of lint that landed on her hoodie, it made her shiver.

She let out a shaky breath, and toyed with the string that hung loose from her black nike socks.

“Why are you askin’ if you’re gonna post it anyways?”

You smirked. For some reason you couldn’t quite put your finger on, sometimes, conversations with her weren’t exactly easy.

“Who said i’ll post? I asked you because I needed your advice”

“Sure” she stated, and slid off the couch.

“Post it” she crossed her arms.

You nodded. post!

You already had one like. Oh, it’s that blonde girl from work. fire emoji, winky face emoji, red heart emoji. Nice!

“M’going to bed” she groaned, and shoved a tiny mushroom in her mouth.

“Ugh. gooey”

You looked up from your phone, and shut it off with a click.

“But you’ll miss the best part!” you pouted.

“Tired” she shrugged. Her face scrunched together. how is she so fucking adorable.

“M’kay… night!”

Ellie dragged her body across the dim lit living-room, and almost slipped on one of her socks.

“Mmmmight” she mumbled.

“Say it nicely!” you yelled across the room, it echoed.

“Good nightttt”

The door slammed shut. Ellie sat down on the bed, and stared at the wall. She cracked her knuckles, one by one, and threw her head back on the mattress, wrapped up by green flannel sheets. Her head landed on the pillow with a soft thud, and she took a long, deep breath. She wasn’t even tired, why did she lie?

That image just took over her brain again. She had only glimpsed it briefly, not truly absorbing its details, before reluctantly handing the device back to you. If she stared any longer— her cheeks would burn a bright pink.

The screen of her Android glowed in the darkness, so she grabbed it. Always on silent mode.

A message from Joel; “Got Maria to iron some of your clothes. remember Janet from across the street? She passed away last week, LOL (lots of love).”

Ellie scratched her eyes, chuckled, and took a screenshot. no fucking way.

A message from Dina; “can u send me some lives on candy crush?”

Followed by another one;

“send them right now or die”

So she scrolled some more.

Instagram; “dinawoodward, jessethekinggglol, courtneycameron and others liked this post!”

She tapped, and thats when her eyes popped out of her head. she suddenly felt parched. She looked around the room— that water-bottle she kept from two weeks ago after a trip to the local bodega must be around there somewhere.

It was not, so there you stood, almost half-naked, a playful smile gracing your lips, the sun-kissed sand partially covering your stomach, and the gentle touch of saltwater caressing your chest. A pair of brown sunglasses adorned your face, with the serene sea standing still in the background.

Ellie blinked once. And then once more, and then she zoomed in.

Her face twitched, and her breath hitched inside her throat. It felt as though her breath had been captured and confined, held hostage within her, struggling to find its release.

She double tapped, and began typing;

“If I could, I’d fuck the shit out of you”

She stared at her keyboard, and breathed deeply. What would happen if she, actually pressed send. Would you come barging inside her room and throw something at her? the green colored vase, maybe? or would you delete her comment, pretend it never happened and move on? perhaps you’d think she was just fucking around, and scold her for typing something like that where everyone could see. “You’re such a creep, el!” she could almost hear you say it. And she could almost feel the way your palm would slam right into her shoulder and nudge it her the side. It made her ears feel warm.

She zoomed in on your tits. Ellie’s face flushed a pretty, dusty pink.

Then, she zoomed in on your stomach, and her nipples perked up inside her hoodie. They grazed the material softly, and she let out a shaky breath.

When she zoomed in on your smile, she smirked at the screen. it made her feel warm and fuzzy and happy and she hated every minute of it. “Never gonna get it” echoed in her ears, a reminder of the "truth" tugged at her heart.

When she zoomed in on your covered cunt, she nearly went cross eyed. She could almost see the outline of your lips— or was she tripping?

Her cunt clenched around absolute nothingness inside her boxers. Was she… getting fucking wet over this?

She gulped, as waves of guilt washed over her. and then, she zoomed in on your tits again, and she felt so turned on she couldn’t even remember what the word guilt even meant.

She heard the echo of your giggle reverberating through the corridor, filling the space with a sound that made her stomach turn. the rhythm of your footsteps grew louder, gradually approaching your room situated just across from hers.

Perhaps you chuckled at something amusing one of your fucking bumble buddies had to say. She lightly bumped her forehead against the screen of her phone, her lips pressed together, forming a thin line.

Your door slammed shut, and a tune began.

“you’re so gorgeous… i cant say anything to your face, cause look at your face…”

How fucking ironic.

“Shut up alexa!” you groaned at the device, causing ellie to stifle a giggle, before she felt the pool flow down her boxers.

The apartment descended into a profound silence, save for the sound of Ellie’s labored breaths echoing in the stillness. she leaned in closer, scrutinizing the image on the screen, alternating between zooming in and zooming out, and crosser her legs together.

When the imagination of your bare tits popped up in her mind, your nipple poking through as you held them together on the screen, it ached inside of her.

Would it really be so wrong if she…?

There was no real harm in it, she thought. It was either this, or close her eyes and rub one off in the darkness, and even then— she had a nagging intuition that you would somehow find your way into her thoughts.

Woudl it really make her that much of a fucking pervert?

Ellie groaned, and brought her knees up to her stomach. Her phone was still in her hand, and that picture teased, and teased, and teased till she couldn’t handle it anymore.

Fuck it. if she did this, she was going to do it right. And she needed to see it close up— and not through her cracked fucking screen she wasn’t bothered fixing for two whole weeks now.

She opened the screen of her laptop, and when she sat on the black leather rolling chair, It felt fucking uncomfortable down there. It was sleek, and she could feel her cunt slide off on the fabric of her boxers.

“Fuuuuck me” she hissed under her breath.

www.instagram.com

Right click.

Your profile, right click. Her hand held a tremor.

You were the focal point, the star of the show, illuminating her old, black HP laptop. The screen, adorned with a thin layer of dust, caught her attention. She leaned in and blew gently, causing the particles to disperse and float away.

She swallowed hard, her throat constricting as she continued to gaze intently. Taking a deep breath, she attempted to steady herself, but the inhalation felt jagged and uneven.

She brought a veiny hand to graze the fabric of her grey colored sweats, just above her clothed cunt, and she felt so fucking relieved.

And it still wouldn’t stop fucking pulsing.

she stared at the bikini, and rubbed her finger up and down slowly, cupped her cunt forcefully, slapped it and whimpered.

“Goddamn” she huffed.

She began tracing big, deliberate circles, her touch slow and steady, causing the fabric of her boxers to cling to her wet cunt.

She had to take them off.

Swiftly, she inserted her thumbs into the edges of her boxers, right at the level of her hipbones, and pulled them down in one fluid motion. The fabric gathered messily around her ankles. She felt so fucking nasty.

Ellie spread her legs, and gasped as the cool air hit her most sensitive place. She waited for a minute, mouth agape, teasing her cunt before she touched it. She swore she could cum with just squeezing in and out while staring at your face.

However, she could not tease herself anymore when those thoughts began forming clearer and clearer.

She brought a long finger and caressed her slit slowly from her hole to her puffy little clit. "Oh fuck yes" she hissed.

It started with thinking about your tits. Her mind wandered, and her hole leaked into the leather chair, forming a small droplet to lay down on it. She breathed heavily.

The thought of you, taking off that bikini top in front of her went through her mind. Slow, deliberate process of undoing its strings, so so agonizingly slow. When they spilled out, ellie let out a high pitched moan.

“Touch them, Ellie” you whispered in her ear.

“Please touch me…” you whined.

She gasped, took two fingers, her middle and her ring, and formed tiny, slow circles on her wet clit. Ellie spread her legs wide, and placed them on the table.

It looked absolutely obscene.

In reality, Ellie was touching herself to a picture on a slightly dusty old screen. In her imagination, you stood pretty begging her for more. Your fucking whines did it for her, and she didn’t even know what they sounded like for real.

You circled your nipples, pinched them and spat a glob of saliva, letting it streamline down your tits, teasing ellie so bad she was already panting. They glistened, and ellie latched on to them, sucking and spitting and whimpering groaning.

“So good Ellie...” you moaned, holding the back of her hand and pushing her deeper.

“I want you so fucking bad”

“Holy fucking shit” she hissed, and slapped her clit. one slap! two slaps! she was desperate.

“Fuuuck yes” she whimpered, and plunged a finger inside her aching hole. It sucked her completely in, clenching around her fingers. She gasped, and slid off the chair.

She was staring at your fucking cunt with her eyes half shut. she swore she could see those fucking lips.

Now, Ellie’s mind took a turn. You laid pretty on her bed, chest heaving up and down, legs spread completely open with a pink vibrator buzzing on your clit.

“Ellie!” you moaned.

“Fuck me... please please please"

She plunged a second finger, and bucked her hips inwards and backwards. She whimpered, and a shaky breath followed by the sound of your name escaped her quivering lips.

“Need you in my pussy… p—pretty please”

She swore she could hear you say it.

Ellie pounced on her bed and savored you whole. she bit your clit, sucked on it and got her entire face wet with your juices.

“God yes” she groaned, wet, squelching sounds filling the room. She pumped them in and out, and in and out again, whilst the other hand was circling itself fast on her needy, pulsating clit. Every few seconds, she’d slap it again, open wider and wider, bucking and riding them so hard she could almost see a supernova right in front of her.

The dull ache in her pussy grew bigger and bigger.

“You need me? fucking whore” she whispered under her breath.

Thin, shiny, sticky drool flowed from the corner of her mouth, it landed on the top of her hoodie.

“Yes Ellie… please Ellie need you in my pussy” She pumped them profusely, feeling your walls take her in like she needed to. When she pumped them inside of herself— That’s what she liked to imagine. It was you, who took her in. They were your walls, your wet cunt begging and screaming for more.

She felt it coming in the pits of her stomach. It grew bigger and bigger, like a wave, or a volcano, threatening to erupt and make her cream all over her chair.

“Ellie yesyesyesyes!” you moaned.

She circled faster and faster, her perky tits bouncing up and down with every movement of her hips. The chair squeaked, but she couldn't be bother to take it slow.

“Ellie?” your voice echoed through the corridor.

“Yeah baby s— say my fucking name, fuck” she hissed, her eyes completely shut.

“Ellie?”

God, it felt so fucking real. Almost there. She bit her lip, and it drew blood.

The door collided with the wall, hitting it with a loud thud.

“Ellie?”

“N— fuNgh”

She almost screamed so loud the gods could hear. she shut her laptop off before even pulling her fingers out.

She was going to fucking faint.

Her face flushed a deep shade of crimson, intense embarrassment radiating from her form, hands trembling uncontrollably, and the expression on her face was one of sheer horror— wide eyed.

She got caught.

"What..." you uttered, your voice trailing off as you stood frozen in place, your mouth agape. Your knees threatened to give way beneath you.

You shut the door.

Ellie, her chest heaving, struggled to catch her breath.

“Oh my—“

“God”

#𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 anon 🎀#ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x you #the last of us #ellie tlou2 #wlw #ellie williams x female reader

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puppetmaster13u · 4 months

Text

Prompt 205

Now let it be said that not a single one of their team (“Does it count as a team if it’s just the three of us?” “Um, what about the Superman clone here??” “Four was the same number of the original League, so yeah we’re a team!”) were expecting to stumble across much of anything deeper in the Cadmus Labs.

They’d already discovered- and released- the super secret super-boy clone after all, so that was the big thing discovered and taken care of! Only they had uh, found something else, another tube even deeper with the room practically frozen, while trying to find the way out.

Now normally, opening the big tube would be a bad idea! But they had a bunch of creatures and security and whoever else on their tails, and hey, why not fight fire with fire and escape while everything was distracted?

Only when things start to defrost they- the sidekicks who are not sidekicks thanks- are really alarmed and starting to worry about what the fuck is inside. Because the cryogenic-liquid-whatever tube is way bigger than they thought, and the files that Robin hacked refers to whatever is inside as a quote, potentially world-ending dangerous entity.

And it’s not even fully defrosted before it starts to break free. One clawed hand- and then another, and another and another- grip onto the broken material, green dripping from where tubes were shrugged free. Its hair shifts and weaves in the air as though underwater, opalescent and each strand shimmering a different color.

It’s absolutely massive, humanoid with long tapered ears and a cacophony of differently shaped horns floating above its head. They’re wary, suddenly remembering every single lecture about dangerous unknowns as it shakes the liquid from a body that appears almost scaled, eight arms easily lifting itself so that it may step out.

They’re also suddenly reminded of the danger they’re in from other things when there’s a crash against the door, like one of those gynomorph tank things had slammed against it. It also causes the being’s head to snap up from where they were seemingly watching the liquid pool beneath them, nine eyes opening from their previously half-lidded position.

A deep rumbling noise echoed around the room as it stopped slouching, showing just how tall it was while three tails lashed in what was obviously some sort of agitation. When they speak, it’s not in any language the three of them know, but Superboy’s head snaps from the door towards them, eyes suddenly wide in child-like wonder.

(“Oh! It’s a baby~”)

Why yes, Even more of Tiamat Class Prompts- but Humanoid!

#Dcxdp #Dpxdc #Prompts #Young Justice sort-of #The Class Pulls a Tiamat #But they also have humanoid form that’s not like 100+ feet tall #NGL Connor was vibing while the other three are freaking out #He’s just a lil guy y’know- a lil dude- a bby boi #Part of their DNA might have been used as stabilization for his creation #The Class: Omg look it’s a baby- oh you’re all trapped and need to get out? Sure why not :)#Tim is trying to catalog EVERYTHING about them #Barry is wondering how much something that big might eat #Roy is just trying not to let the younger sidekicks die y’know how it is #Connor is just: Parent? Parents for me? Safe Parents who protect me??#For those not familiar the 9 are: Danny; Sam; Tucker; Valerie; Wes; Dash; Kwan; Paulina & Star #How did they end up in Cadmus? Good Question #Probably has to do with the GIW

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snoowpee · 3 months

Text

falling from grace - j.sc

Pairing ⇾ angel!sungchan x devil!reader

Genre ⇾ smut, a little bit of fluff & fantasy, slight crack

Warnings ⇾ slight dubcon, cheating, religious themes, unprotected sex (children are expensive!), manipulation, corruption kink, making out, marking, finger sucking, fingering, cum eating, oral (both giving & receiving), overstimulation, jerking off, hair pulling, size kink, strength kink, exhibitionism. mentions of natty (kiss of life), seoyeon (fromis_9), ningning (aespa), intak (p1harmony). I might’ve missed something but that’s the gist of it, enjoy!

Summary ⇾ you’ve been eyeing jung sungchan for a while, wondering if he’s as innocent as he presents himself to be.

Word count ⇾ 9.3k words

Playlist ⇾ Zayn (feat. Kehlani) - wRoNg.

Fire and water do not mix. Love and hatred do not go well together. Angels and demons do not get along. And most certainly, You and Jung Sungchan are not meant to be together.

Though something about him fascinates you. How good, nice, pure, and innocent he presents himself to be. He was intoxicating. Addictive than most drugs or alcohol could be. It was alarming how much you desire to find out if that innocent facade he carries is the true him. You knew beforehand that he was someone you can’t have. He was different from your usual entertainment. So untainted, uncorrupted, undefiled. Someone who you can call yours. He was your forbidden fruit. So sweet and charming your heart aches.

Would he be still so kind if you took everything away from him? Would he still look at you with bright eyes after defiling him? Would his wings be still white as snow or would it disappear into ashes once you touch it?

There’s only one way to find out and you make it your mission to unravel the truth. One thing’s for sure it’s not what he calls his God he’ll be worshiping tonight.

“Any chance, one of you is willing to accompany me?” You stopped your train of thoughts to ask one of your dearest friends, Natty and Seoyeon.

“Accompany you where?” Seoyeon asked, twirling a strand of her hair between her middle and index fingers. Natty chuckled, you and Seoyeon both looking at her.

“Girl, don’t think I didn’t notice the way you’ve been looking at Jung Sungchan,” Natty smiled mischievously.

“No way,” Seoyeon smirked. “Don’t tell me you’re interested?”

“Come on. Don’t you two ever think about what lies beneath that pretty face?” You stare at the oblivious boy meters away from you. “He seems so… fun,” you finished lamely. When you turn to look at your friends, they bursted out laughing.

“You could find out if he’s sweet as he looks, if you could get past that,” Natty nods towards a girl, an angel, walking. You recognize the girl, Ningning, well-known for her beauty as well as personality. Her hair sways around, her wings flapping graciously as she navigates her way through the crowd, a smile never leaving her face. She was so prim and proper, just as an angel should.

Unlike you, thanks to your horns, fiery red eyes, fangs, and pointed tail.

“What’s her deal?” You asked, curiosity reigning your emotions.

“She’s to be Jung Sungchan’s partner,” Seoyeon explained. “They’re not marrying each other though, more of like their God blessing their relationship before taking things seriously, if you know what I mean,” Seoyeon added with a hint of uncertainty. “I don’t know what shit goes on in their realm, but that’s what I heard.”

Your mouth stretched into a smile. Perfect.

Sungchan exhaled once he finished the pile he was working on. He had been working since the morning and he badly needed a breather before working on the next stack of files.

“How’s my favorite angel doing?” His head snapped to the familiar voice.

“Well, your favorite angel is exhausted from working. But it’s nothing he had done before,” Sungchan answered with a sweet smile. “How about you, my love?” Ningning blushed at Sungchan’s words.

“I’m doing fine, myself, thank you for asking.” Ningning reached out to hold Sungchan’s hand, sighing at his touch. “I can’t wait to be yours.”

“I can’t wait to be yours, either,” Sungchan blushed.

It was unfair truly, how angels are supposed to wait for the blessing of their God before doing something deemed as sinful. It wasn’t a problem for Sungchan though, he followed the laws like how an angel should.

“I hate to tell you this, but my superior told me that I have to go on a retreat before the big day,” Ningning pouted. It was a required process before the blessing and Sungchan understood, of course he did.

“No worries,” Sungchan assured Ningning, “I understand. For what it’s worth, I heard that retreats are really fun. You get peace and all the good stuff that comes with it, I’m sure you’re gonna have a blast.”

“Well, what about you?” Ningning asked worriedly.

“Don’t worry about me. I have enough work to keep me busy.”

Pretending to be an angel is truly easy.

It wasn’t your idea, but your friend’s. Natty always brought up good ideas. An example would be your meeting with Sungchan’s dad. It was fun, really, having everybody wrapped around your fingers. All it took was disguise and your sickening smile and voilà, a meeting with Jung Sungchan.

Of course you had to bullshit your way through everything, you’re a demon for a reason.

Sungchan was running 10 minutes late for your meeting, you had insisted on meeting at your apartment, for privacy reasons.

After 30 minutes of waiting, you finally heard a knock on your door. You opened it with the same sickening smile.

“Apologies, I was caught up with work and I didn’t notice the time. That is no excuse of course, but I thought I should let you know.” Sungchan said out of breath. He sounded majestic, you wondered if that’s what he’ll sound like when you have him in your mou– of course that had to wait.

“No worries! I understand,” you said with a smile. “I appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule. I know it’s way too sudden, I just really don’t know anyone around here, seeing that I’m from someplace else,” You explained while leading him into your apartment. It wasn’t totally a lie, you were in fact from someplace else, hell to be specific, but Sungchan didn’t need to know that.

“Ah, that’s alright. It’s my pleasure to help you. My dad said you needed someone to help you and I gladly volunteered, it was my choice so don’t worry about it.” Sungchan sat on your couch, his wings majestic and shiny. Your patience was wavering, you wanted to take him then and there. Sungchan cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry, did you say something?” You politely asked, it was so out of character, you didn’t recognize your own voice.

“Well, I was just asking what you needed help with?” Fuck. What did you need help with? What do angels do?

“Uhm… Bible verses?” You answered, Sungchan blankly stared at you.

“That’s… What about it?” Sungchan asked, confusion plastered on his face. Angels don’t usually recite Bible verses, nor do anything involving it. It was peculiar that you needed help with it. That invoked something in Sungchan. Curiosity. He could deny all he wants but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re enticing.

Sungchan froze, lost in his thoughts to notice you moving closer to him, the distance too close to be friendly. Sungchan moved back a little, startled by the action. He cleared his throat once again, his breath heaving. You smirked.

“Are you always this good?”

“You’re too far away. Come closer, so we could talk properly,” you placed your hand on his thigh. Sungchan gulped. He has never been touched there.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to be this close,” Sungchan tried moving away again, but he was stopped by the arm rest of your couch. When did he get so close to the end of the couch?

“It’s ok, you’re not making me uncomfortable. Plus it’s only the two of us. No one will know.” You moved your hand upwards, lightly gracing his abdomen before placing it on his chest, leaning in to whisper, “Imagine how much fun we’ll have, pretty boy.” Your gaze trailed to his lips, biting yours as you do so.

Sungchan places his hand on top of yours, “I can’t be this close to you. I can’t.”

You chuckled, shrugging off his protests, crawling into his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck, while his hands awkwardly stayed on his sides. Kissing along his jaw you spoke, “If you’re worried about Ningning finding out,” You stopped, lips near his ear, “Don’t be. This is our own little secret.”

You pulled away just in time to see a very beautiful Sungchan. Rosey cheeks, eyes twinkling, breath heaving. Fuck. He looked so pure.

You take his chin into your hand, touching his lips with yours, kissing him slowly. He tasted like what you had in mind, even better than what you’ve had in mind. He tasted sweet. As you explored his mouth, his hands finally moved to grip your sides. You had to stop a moan from leaving you as you felt how big his hands were. You can't wait to feel it all over you, but of course that could wait.

When you pulled away from the kiss, Sungchan chased your lips.

“Please…” He said breathlessly.

“You’re so pretty, my angel.” You cupped his face with your hands, and Sungchan’s stomach twisted in guilt as he remembered Ningning. It was so wrong, but it felt good.

“Listen here, pretty boy.” You cupped Sungchan’s jaw whilst he struggled to listen to you, a cloud of need engulfing his senses. “The thing that you will help me with is this,” you took his hand, leading it down in between your legs. Sungchan gasped when he felt the warmth of your wet throbbing core. You had to fight the urge of moaning out loud when you felt his hand against you. “Now, you might not know what to do but I’ll be willing to teach you.” Sungchan nodded at your words not fully comprehending anything. “But this has to be our own little secret, understood?”

“Yes..” you smiled at his breathless answer.

You stood up abruptly, leaving Sungchan confused. You saw the tent in his pants and smiled to yourself, almost feeling bad… until you didn’t. He looked so breathless and lost which didn’t help the ache between your legs.

“Don’t you think it’s getting late?”

Sungchan looked at the clock hanging on the wall, 9:00 pm. Shit. He forgot that he had to be home within 10 minutes if he wanted to talk to Ningning.

Your smile widened at his expression.

“Right…” Sungchan trailed off, standing up to leave.

“I’ll see you again, angel.”

It had been exactly 5 days since Sungchan came over to your place. 5 days where he had endured the endless amount of his torturing thoughts of your lips on his. He swore he could still taste you in his tongue.

“Sungchan?” Ningning’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, “Are you feeling alright?” Ningning’s voice was etched with concern.

“Yeah, just tired.” Sungchan coughed to mask the feeling of his guilt churning in his stomach.

“I told you to not overdo it,” Ningning sighed.

“I’m sorry. It’s hard being the son of a superior, there's too much to do in a day,” Sungchan hid his head behind his hands, rubbing his face harshly, doing anything to get you off his mind. He was talking to Ningning, his soon to be girlfriend, he should be only thinking about her. But he couldn’t help it. What were you up to? Why haven’t you called him back after 5 whole days? Did something happen? Should he check up on you? Should he go to– Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Sungchan cleared his throat, “When are you coming back? I miss you.”

“I miss you too, my love,” Ningning pouted. “I don’t know the answer to your question, apparently this whole retreat thing is long. Who would've thought that angels should undergo rituals to have a boyfriend?”

“Trust me, what angels undergo for marriage is harsher than this. I heard that you won't be able to see each other for months to build trust and commitment,” At the reminder of his own words Sungchan paled. He was not supposed to be close to other angels, especially when he already has Ningning. Maybe, her calling me back isn’t a bad thing. This is for the better.

“Well, maybe having a superior as a father isn’t so bad. Look at you, you’re already done the basic necessities for the blessing.”

“I should thank my dad, I guess,” Sungchan smiled when he saw Ningning yawn. She was always cute no matter what she did. “You should probably go to sleep.”

“Yeah, I’ll call you again later. Bye, my love.”

“Bye, my love.”

Sungchan ended the call, realizing how fucked he was.

“You haven’t called him since?” Natty turned to you as she held up a sparkly dress against her body.

“Yes. I like that one with the heels,” You hand her a silver necklace that matches the dress she was holding up.

“Why not? I was wondering what angel dick tasted like,” you snorted at her words.

“I don’t know, heaven?” you fixed your hair, showcasing your sultry horns. “Enough about him, I’ll fuck him when I want to, and yes, I promise to tell you and Seoyeon about it.” You sighed, already bored talking about Sungchan.

“I’m surprised you held out this long. You’re the most impatient bitch I’ve ever known. I thought you would’ve fucked him the moment he went inside your place.”

“I have enough boytoys to keep me company,” you shrugged. “Speaking of boytoys, would you hurry up and change? I wanna go to the party now.”

“Alright!” Natty rolled her eyes, disappearing behind the bathroom door to change.

Your phone chimed, stealing your attention away from admiring yourself.

Angel

Hey.

What have you been up to?

Is everything alright? I haven’t seen you since…

Angels are so easy to manipulate. You scoffed. Sungchan is making everything easy for you, you both like and hate the fact. You ignored the text and finished getting ready.

Not long after you and Natty were on your way to meet Seoyeon at some party.

When you arrived at the place, you were amazed by the crowd. You were expecting some trashy party, like the last, but surprisingly today’s crowd is more tamed and hot. Just what you needed, after a shitty week.

“I’m gonna go find my boytoy, I’ll leave you to it,” Natty made a kissy face before gesturing at the party. Both of you had no clue where Seoyeon went, but if you were to guess you’d probably find her under a man too. After all, that’s what you three had planned to do at today’s party. Usually, you were always at parties for drinks and gossip. But something about this week, spelt loosen up for all three of you.

Navigating your way to the kitchen wasn’t too hard, nor was getting yourself a drink.

“Hey,” you felt a pair of hands on your hips, followed by a familiar waft of perfume.

“Hey, baby,” you turn your head just a bit to greet the boy behind you with a smile.

“Isn’t it too early for you to drink that?” Seunghan made a face.

“Tough week, mind letting me have my fun?” You drank from your cup, waiting for Seunghan to take the hint. He does, as always.

“We can go back to my place? This place is packed.”

“Great. Well, I guess it’s nice to know that I’m not the only one having a shitty week,” Seunghan chortled at your words. “Are you ok to drive though?” you placed the now empty cup on the counter top, fully turning to now face Seunghan. He kept his hand on your hips the whole time, never moving even after you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Yeah, I wasn’t really up to drinking today. That’s why I’m Intak’s DD. He’ll be fine if I leave, though. He’s probably getting his dick wet as we speak.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?”

“Jeez, so impatient to have me?”

“You wish,” you rolled your eyes while Seunghan chuckled, intertwining your hands together to lead the way to his car.

Fortunately, Seunghan parked not too far from the house the party was hosted in. The warmth of his car felt nice against your chilled skin as you took a seat on the front seat of his car, waiting for him to get in. Seunghan stood in front of his car talking to someone. To keep you entertained, you pulled out your phone to scroll through your notifications.

Angel

My dad is making me run around town for errands, would you like to come?

I think it’s a good idea to… so that you get used to the place and all.

You don’t have to come of course, I understand if you’re busy.

You chuckled. He is so pathetic. You loved it. How Sungchan desperately tried to meet up with you after what happened in your apartment. Just a little bit more, then you can finally take him. This is one of your favorite games to play when messing with someone. You always loved it when they got so impatient, taking matters into their own hands to get you to look at them in any way.

When Seunghan finished talking to one of his friends, he finally got into the car. Before he could drive, you stopped him with a kiss on his lips. Seunghan masked his shock by kissing back.

“I didn’t know you were this impatient,” Seunghan breathlessly said, after pulling away to inhale air. “Get on the backseat.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice.

Seunghan climbed back after you, cupping your jaw to deepen the kiss while pushing you back to the seat. Seunghan groans when you buck your hips up against his.

A knock on the window startles the both of you.

Sungchan.

Fuck. How the hell did he find you?

You pull away from Seunghan, confusing him.

“Since when did you care if some other dude is watching you make out with me?” Seunghan runs his fingers through his hair, staring at Sungchan. It’s not like Sungchan is gonna see him, the back windows are tinted. Not the front, though. He should probably get that fix.

“Since the lab experiment is outside your car, waiting for me.” you push Seunghan off you as he laughs.

“Damn. Well, you should probably talk to him. It’s such a shame if you make him cry this early in the experiment.” You snorted, jokingly slapping Seunghan’s cheek. The both of you laughed.

Before getting out of the car, you fix your clothes to hide any indication of your make out with Seunghan. Being extra cautious as you hid your tail, horns, and fangs.

As you got out of the car, Sungchan watched your every move. You held his gaze, looking up as he towered over you.

“What are you doing here?” You were the first to break the silence.

“My dad made me run errands,” Sungchan doesn’t hide the way he glares behind you. You were guessing he saw Seunghan, the way his frown deepened. You heard the car door open and close. Seunghan, you little bitch. You had to hide your smile.

“You would know if you weren’t so busy with him. And if you even cared to look at my texts,” Sungchan brings his gaze back on you.

You chuckled as Sungchan’s brows furrowed.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Are you jealous right now, angel?”

Sungchan froze.

“I’m not! Look, I’m just worried, we haven’t seen each other for days. And when I finally do see you, you’re at some devil’s backseat. I promised my dad that I will look after you. This is me looking after you. Let’s go home now.”

You let out a startled shriek when Sungchan lifted you with one of his arms.

“Put me down, Sungchan!” You grumbled.

Your protest was ignored as Sungchan places you inside of his car, buckling the seat belt for you before shutting the door closed. You ignored Sungchan as he started the car and drove. You pulled out your phone.

You

something came up.

Seunghan

ur blue balling me now? damn u’ve changed baby :(

You

i’ll make it up to you soon :p

Seunghan

u better

at least send me nudes i miss ur body

You

you wish. just jerk off to some porno. you’ll be fine.

Seunghan

meanie >:(

You chuckled at your phone, earning you a glare from Sungchan.

“What’s so funny?” Sungchan casted another side glance at you, eyes focused on the road as he drove.

“None of your business,” you were sort of pissed at him for acting like he did earlier. You just wanted dick after a long day, and here comes Mr. Perfect to ruin all your plans.

“Ok. I’m glad to see you, though. But I’m even more glad to see that your phone’s working.”

The car stopped at a stoplight. Sungchan turned his body a little to allow him to properly meet your gaze.

“What’s the matter? Did I do something wrong? One minute we’re really close to each other, and the second you act as if I don’t even exist.” Sungchan’s voice softened. You reach for his face to cup his cheek.

“I’m sorry, angel. I've just been really busy.”

“Why were you with that devil then?” Sungchan being sulky was supposed to annoy you. You always hated it when men act so stupid. Seunghan was an exception, though. You’ve known him for quite a while, and he did not give a fuck if you hated the way he was being sulky and playful. Sungchan, however, is different. You’ve known him in a short span of time and he’s already getting into you. That fucking kissable pout. You just wanted to kiss it off his face.

The sound of a car honking its horn interrupted the both of you.

“Like I said, angel. It’s none of your business. You’re better off not knowing things, trust me.” You pulled your hand away from his face, facing away from him.

The car started moving again.

Sungchan cleared his throat before speaking, “So…” you casted a side glance at him. “I actually don’t know where you live, so I’ve just been driving us to my place. Are you alright with staying the night with me?”

You were taken aback. Why does Sungchan always find a way to ruin all of your plans?

“Yeah, I don’t mind.”

You were going to need all of the patience you can get.

Sungchan’s place was exactly how you expected it to be, except for the fact that he only had one room with one bed in it.

“Are you gonna make me sleep on the floor?” you laid down on his bed, Sungchan winced. He had a ‘no outside clothes’ rule, but you wouldn’t know as this is the first time you’ve been to his place. He’ll let you know next time? Next time.

“No. You’re sleeping on the bed, don’t worry,” Sungchan gave you a tight lipped smile as he rummaged through his drawer that contained all of his clothes. “Also, you don’t have to worry about sleeping next to me. I’m sleeping on the couch tonight,” Sungchan had his back turned to you, oblivious to your disappointment.

You expected him to give in. Why is he playing your game?

Finally, Sungchan turned to face you, hands full of his clothes.

“You should change into this,” Sungchan placed the clothes beside you on the bed.

You smirked.

You stood up in front of Sungchan, grabbing the hem of your party dress, pulling it up to take it off. Sungchan’s gaze never left yours, even as you unhooked your bra. Sungchan gulped. You walked closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck when you got close enough. Sungchan’s hands stayed by his side, eyes never leaving yours, even when he felt your perked up nipples against his chest. You tiptoed on your toes to graze his lips with yours.

“What if I get too cold? Who will warm me up by then, angel?”

“Um…” Sungchan finally caved in, looking down at your body while exhaling. He cleared his throat before looking back at your smiling face.

“Hm?” You expectantly looked at him.

“Yeah…” Sungchan said distractedly.

“What do you mean, angel? I need you to use your words properly, I can’t quite understand you,” You traced his jaw with your index finger.

“I’ll sleep next to you.”

Your smile widened, pulling away from him, you grabbed his shirt, putting it on as you ignored the shorts beside it. Sungchan stood completely frozen, watching you as you lay down on the bed.

“Come here, angel.”

It was going to be a long night.

When Sungchan woke up, his heart dropped to his stomach when he didn’t find you beside him. He quickly got up, only to find you in the kitchen.

“I thought you left,” Sungchan rubbed his face with his hands.

You had to take a breath.

Right in front of you was a shirtless Sungchan. Prominent abs on display. You could see every ridges and lines. Biceps bulging out. Trails of veins along his arms.

You needed to fuck him.

At the lack of response, Sungchan noticed the way you were staring at him.

“Oh…” Sungchan immediately realized his mistake. “I’m sorry. I always sleep hot, so I…” Sungchan trailed off as you got closer to him again.

“It’s alright, angel,” You cupped his face with your hands. “Truth be told, I actually like it. I really do.” you dropped your hands, fingers trailing down his body, stopping at his abdomen. “But, I’m not gonna lie to you… I am kind of upset.” Sungchan’s eyebrows furrowed.

“What’s the matter?”

“I might need your help now, angel.”

You smashed your lips against Sungchan, kissing him fervently. Sungchan tried to keep up as your kisses were way too aggressive for him.

You pulled off of him, giving him time to breathe.

You took his hand and brought them closer to your mouth, you parted your lips to take his index, middle, and ring finger inside your mouth, sucking on them. Sungchan gasped at the unfamiliar feeling. Once his fingers were coated by your saliva, you brought them down to your core. You pushed your panties aside as you guided Sungchan’s fingers inside your wet hole. You both gasped.

“Curl your fingers for me, angel,” you let out breathlessly, the stretch of Sungchan’s fingers knocking the air out of your lungs. You didn’t expect them to feel this good. The thought of his dick made you moan, you wondered how well his dick will fit into you.

Sungchan did what he was told to do, making your legs shake as they close in on his hand in between your legs.

“Like that, angel!” you bit your lip to prevent a whimper from coming out. “Now, I want you to pull your fingers out quickly, put them back in quickly, and curl.”

You let out a moan as Sungchan followed your instructions. Sungchan felt a sense of pride as he watched you shake and moan.

“Fuck, angel. Doing so good for me,” you grabbed onto his biceps as you felt your high approaching. “A little bit more faster, angel.”

Boy, Sungchan is indeed a fast learner.

With a final thrust of his fingers into you, you cummed all over his fingers, wetting the floor in the process. Sungchan slowed the motions of his hand, watching in awe as you came.

“Wow…”

“Good job, angel.” You leaned against him as you catched your breath, holding his wrist to stop his hand from moving. His free hand held you against him.

“What just happened?” Sungchan looked at your exhausted face.

“You just made me cum.”

Sungchan stared at you blankly. You scoffed.

“Do they ever teach you, angels, sex?”

At your words Sungchan’s eyes widened.

“W-What?” Sungchan sputtered. “I-I thought sex is when y-you penetrate the vagina w-with the penis?” Sungchan paled. You had to laugh.

“Yes, angel. Do you want me to get you crayons and draw how the flowers get watered by the canisters?”

“Stop joking around! I could get suspended if I partake in such obscene activities!” Sungchan panicked.

You laughed harder. After catching your breath you finally spoke, “Angel. I told you that this is gonna be our own little secret. Don’t worry about all of that. No one’s gonna know. You will not get suspended.” You cupped one of his cheeks with your hand while assuring him. “Besides, there are more ways to have sex than ‘penetrating the vagina with a penis’. You can learn a lot from me, angel.”

Sungchan gulped. This is our own little secret. No one will know. No one. Not even Ningning.

“Like what?” Your smile couldn’t get possibly wider as Sungchan caved in.

You took his fingers out of your hole. You brought his own fingers clad with your arousal near his mouth.

“How about I show you, angel?”

“Yes…” Sungchan lazily answered, distracted by your sticky arousal on his fingers. As you pushed his fingers inside his mouth, you instructed him to suck them clean. “You taste amazing.” your pussy throbbed.

“Why don’t you carry me to your bed, angel,” you wrapped your hands around his neck as Sungchan carried you with one arm to his room. Laying down on the bed with you on top of him.

You began kissing him again, this time more slow and sensual. You kissed down to his jaw then neck, noticing the cross necklace he had on. You bit his skin, leaving a love bite beside where the cross ends. You licked down his abdomen, leaving trails of your saliva on his skin. Once you’ve reached the waistband of his sweats you had to stop a gasp from coming out of your mouth. You looked at his crotch, his hardened cock struggling in the confines of his pajama pants.

Sungchan was big.

You rubbed your thighs together, feeling the way Sungchan struggled while you taught him how to fuck you with his fingers. You were so indulged in your own needs that you didn’t realize he had his needs too.

You pulled off his pajama pants, freeing his cock, this time you did let out a gasp. You started salivating at the sight in front of you, Sungchan’s cock was thick and long, the tip leaking precum with his angry veins prodding along the expanse of his length.

He indeed looked like an angel, collarbones adorning the lovebites you gave him, cross necklace gleaming under the sunlight, pouty swollen lips and bed hair. He was perfect.

Sungchan’s cock was throbbing as he watched you, waiting as you stared at him in awe.

You took his hand in yours, leading his to hold his dick while yours rested on top of his. You slowly moved your hands up and down his length, watching as his face contorted in pleasure. Sungchan let out little whimpers.

“Feels so good…”

“Yeah, angel?” You moved your hands faster, Sungchan moaned out.

“I want you to think of me every time you touch yourself like this, ok?”

Sungchan nodded in a daze, too fucked out to even comprehend what you were saying.

“O-Oh!” Sungchan whined when you sucked his tip, you felt him throbbing on your tongue, tasting his arousal as you sucked and licked his tip. You relaxed your jaw to take half of his size, licking the vein on the underside of his cock, using both of your hands to jerk off the remaining half you couldn’t fit in your mouth.

“Fuck!” You looked up at Sungchan, surprised at the cuss that left his mouth. Angels never swore. “No, please don’t stop. Please keep going,” Sungchan mewled. If it weren’t for Sungchan begging you to keep going, you wouldn’t have realized that you stopped what you were doing.

Despite being shocked at what happened, you continued to suck on Sungchan’s cock, his moans sounding like your personal heaven. You felt Sungchan’s thigh shake and before you knew it he was cumming inside your mouth. You dropped your joined hands, spitting out his cum back onto his cock, using your hands to smear the mess on his dick.

You watched the tip of Sungchan’s cock spurt out more of his arousal, the tip reddening as you continued jerking him off. He groaned, in turn, sensitive to your touch. You lick up Sungchan’s abdomen, stopping at his chest to bite the skin, all while you move your hands on him. Once you were satisfied with the love bite, you pressed your lips on his, swallowing the whimpers he was letting out.

You two messily made out for a while, stopping when you felt Sungchan cum around your hand. In a daze, Sungchan looked up at you, too fucked out to function.

“You alright, angel?” you asked as you met his gaze, instead of replying Sungchan nodded, eyes droopy. “Here, how about we get you cleaned up. You can go to bed after,” you tried pulling him up by grabbing onto his biceps. Fortunately, Sungchan followed your lead, putting his arm around your shoulder and waist, clinging to you as you both walked to his bathroom.

He wrapped both of his arms around your waist, head leaning on your shoulder as you cleaned him and yourself up. Once you’ve successfully finished, you drag him back to his room where he passed out on his bed while clinging onto you. You lie beside Sungchan, your eyelids slowly falling shut. Before you knew it, you were falling asleep beside him.

“So, what have you been up to these days?” Ningning asked, pulling Sungchan out of his thoughts.

He had forgotten that he was on a call with Ningning, too occupied with the thoughts of you. To his surprise, you didn’t ignore him after what happened, instead you regularly came over to his place to keep him company, driving him insane by wearing his clothes, parading around his apartment with nothing but panties underneath.

It drove him nuts.

That didn’t stop him from shoving his fingers up inside you, of course. It surprised him how much he wanted to taste the slick pouring out of you every time he made you cum, tempted to lick his fingers to find out if it tasted as sweet as your mouth.

Sungchan coughed, his dick stirring with arousal under his pants.

He could always ask you if he could taste you… but how? Does he just lick you then? He had no idea what to do.

He might have to do research. Or he could ask Eunseok for those videos he once caught him watching.

He’s definitely asking you, instead.

“Earth to Sungchan?”

“Right, sorry. I’ve been really busy these past few days. You know how my dad is,” It was scary how easily Sungchan could lie now. Before, he couldn’t even tell a lie, caving in to tell the truth eventually, as his stomach churned in guilt.

That feeling of his stomach churning hadn’t gone away. As he looked at Ningning the guilt inside him bubbles up, again. Yet, when he’s with you, he couldn’t give a fuck about feeling guilty. When are you coming over, anyways?

Sungchan tunes out Ningning as she spoke to him about her day. His calls with Ningning are slowly becoming less frequent, his responses to conversations becoming shorter as he space out thinking about you.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you about this… they’re asking me to stay a little bit longer, because apparently my services have been really helpful. I’m sorry if I didn’t tell you sooner, but I have decided to stay. I hope you’re ok with that?”

“Of course, I’m ok with that, it’s your choice. I won’t limit your happiness. If you’re happy to help, then I’m happy too.”

“You’re the best, my love.”

Sungchan’s stomach churned.

“Thank you, my love.”

You quizzically stared at Sungchan. It had been a while since he stared at his food, stabbing the food with his fork as he got lost in his thoughts.

You stood up, gaining his attention. You straddled his lap, his hands automatically finding their way to your sides.

“What’s the matter?” you asked, playing with his hair. Sungchan leaned into your touch, swallowing down his embarrassment before speaking.

“I saw…” Sungchan started, “Uhm, well… I don’t..”

You stared. Sungchan gulped.

“Can I… taste you?”

You stared.

“Like, you know. The thing that… when you..”

“Angel. You can have me for dessert.”

Sungchan audibly gulped. You pulled yourself off of him, pushing yourself up to sit on the dining table behind you. You lift Sungchan’s shirt, showing your cotton underwear by spreading your legs apart.

“Come close, angel. Take it off for me.”

Entranced by you, Sungchan does what he’s told, situating himself in between your legs, staring at your glistening core.

You take the time to tell him what you wanted him to do.

“See this, angel. I want you to lick from here to here ok?” You part your folds with your fingers, showing him your hole. Sungchan was in awe.

You sighed in delight when you guided his fingers to rub your clit, quivering when he pressed a little bit harsher than you told him to.

“When you get here, I want you to suck it hard. You can lick it too, angel. I like that too,” you played with Sungchan’s hair as you explained to him, finding it adorable how he listened intently to your instructions.

“Why don’t you give it a try?”

You gasped when you felt Sungchan’s tongue on you, your grip on his hair tightening as he poked his tongue inside your hole. He slurps up your arousal, sucking your clit harshly, making you close your thighs around his head. You mewled at the feeling of Sungchan’s mouth on you.

He gripped your thighs, tapping the sides to gain your attention. You look down to see his glossy eyes staring up at you.

“Fuck, angel. You look so adorable like this,” you moaned when you felt Sungchan nibble on your clit. One of his hands left your thigh, stroking his cock through his pants at your compliment. The sight turned you on; Sungchan’s chin coated with your arousal as he pleased you, jerking himself off to your moans.

It didn’t take you long to soak his face with your cum, harshly gripping his hair as you released all over him, wetting his shirt in the process.

You lie down on the table, feeling the cool surface as you catch your breath. Sungchan rested his forehead on top of your right thigh, caressing the other while he closed his eyes. In return, you played with Sungchan’s hair, the both of you staying still for a while.

“I should probably clean you up…” Sungchan spoke against the skin of your thigh, “Oh, and… uhm…” Sungchan trailed off.

Confused, you sat up to properly look at him, his pants with a wet patch of his arousal coming into view. You gasped.

Sungchan came in his pants while he ate you out.

“You never come to confession anymore,” Sungchan’s dad spoke over the line. He rubbed his face with his hand, figuring out a way to explain himself. No matter how hard he tried, it all came down to one reason. I’ve been partaking into obscene activities while lying to the person I love, and I’ve been guilty all this time. Sungchan exhaled.

“I’m sorry, dad. I’ve just been really busy.” It was a lame excuse, but Sungchan couldn’t tell him the real reason behind his absence with his faith.

“I understand. Come by when you’re free, your mom misses you.”

After an exchange of pleasantries, the phone call ended.

Sungchan laid on his bed pondering what he was doing with his life. He has an angel showering in his bathroom while another one is miles away doing everything she can so that their relationship can move on to the next big thing.

Sungchan sighed, aggressively rubbing his face again.

“What’s up with you,” he heard you say.

Sungchan removed his hands from his face, taking your figure in; wet hair and body wrapped in a towel, with droplets covering the expanse of your skin. He felt his dick twitch. You smelled so good.

He opened his arms and you immediately got the hint. You crawled on top of him, sitting on his abdomen, to play with his hair. You gasped in surprise when Sungchan pulled you close to him, wrapping his arms around you.

“Hey, what’s that?” Sungchan asked. You followed his line of sight and saw your tail poking out. Shit.

“Uh…” you cleared your throat, trying to think of a lie.

“You’ve got something poking out of your head too,” Sungchan looked at you, his expression pure of confusion. Come on, think. Spew out a lie, you got this. You looked away from him, hiding your eyes.

You felt Sungchan's hands cup your jaw, making you face him. He stared into your eyes.

“You’re a devil.”

Sungchan pressed his lips onto yours. You froze.

Once you recovered from your shock you kissed back. You had expected him to be mad at you, not this, whatever this is.

You pulled away from his lips, placing both of your hands on his shoulders.

“You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be?” Sungchan placed his hands on your waist.

“Because… I lied to you..?” Sungchan chuckled at your words.

“Did you really think I believed you were an angel?” You furrowed your eyebrows at his question, “I knew at the very beginning. At our first meeting you asked about bible verses.. angels do not deal with that.” Sungchan mischievously grinned.

“You’re such an ass,” you huffed.

“How am I an ass? You’re the one who pretended to be an angel so that you could get with me,” Sungchan placed a kiss on your neck.

“And you let me..” you bite back. “Why?”

“Because you were fun to be with. I didn’t mind if you were pretending to be an angel in the first place, you had your reasons.”

“You figured out I was a devil, but you never figured out the reason why I was messing with you?” You scoffed.

“No..”

You took his hand into yours, guiding it down in between your bodies to your core. Sungchan took the hint and cupped your core.

“Oh.. well then. Should I prove to you that you picked the right angel?”

“You’re not as innocent as I thought.”

“Give me a break. I caught my best bud watching porn and got scarred for life.” Sungchan rubbed your clit. “Ended up searching up things, and finding out about the real world.” You stopped his hand to focus on your train of thoughts.

“Porn isn’t the real thing. Most of the time it’s staged,” you brought his hand back to your core, letting him continue his actions.

“Noted,” Sungchan said before kissing you. “How about we do the real thing then?” Sungchan pushed you down, pulling the towel off your body. “I always knew you were beautiful, but I didn’t know you were this beautiful.”

Sungchan kissed you again, pulling away only to kiss down your body, mimicking the way you would leave love bites on him.

He spread your legs apart, positioning himself in between them. Sungchan inserts two fingers in you to stretch you out, licking you up when a glob of your arousal seeps out of your dripping hole. You moaned, gripping his hair.

“Faster, angel,” Sungchan moves his fingers faster, sucking your clit to please you. He moved his hips, humping his bed at the same pace as fingers moving in and out of you. All your remaining patience burst at the sight. “Take your clothes off, angel.”

You didn’t have to tell Sungchan twice. He was just as desperate as you.

He pulled off his clothes at lightning speed, positioning himself in between your legs. Sungchan took a hold of his dick, gliding it in between your folds to lubricate it. You both moaned at the feeling.

“You’re so wet…”

Carefully, Sungchan prod your hole with the head of his cock, you took a sharp intake of air at the stretch. Sungchan groaned on top of you, leaning forward to penetrate you deep. The glint of the cross around his neck catches your attention, the pendant hitting the bridge of your nose as Sungchan moves closer to you.

“Fuck, angel… feel so full,” you bit your lip to stop another moan from coming out of you, placing your hands on Sungchan’s broad shoulders.

“Uhm… I’m halfway in…”

Your eyes widened. No way. You knew Sungchan was big but you didn’t expect him to be this big.

You both look down at where you two were connected, moaning at the sight. He wasn’t lying. He was indeed halfway in.

You felt Sungchan’s dick twitch.

“Do you feel turned on watching me struggle to take in your dick?” You bring your gaze back to his eyes.

“Kind of…”

“You’re such a dick,” you gasped when you felt Sungchan force a few inches in.

“What was that?” He grinned, you glared at him. Sungchan bit his lips, carefully moving out of you. He held your thighs open to keep you in place when moving into you, slowly letting you adjust to his size. You were moaning while squirming around the bed, not expecting Sungchan to be in so deep. His dick was unlike others you’ve taken before; throbbing with need, veiny, thick, and long.

It was heaven.

“Need you to move, angel,” you were too far gone, drunk at the feeling of his cock filling and stretching you up, mind hazy with need.

Sungchan complied to your request, he wrapped your legs around him, positioning his hands beside your head so he could thrust harder into you.

He moved his hips forward thrusting into you harshly, whining at the feeling of you wrapping him tightly. You close your eyes, overwhelmed with the feeling of his big cock moving in and out of you. You opened your eyes, feeling something cold touch the tip of your nose, revealing Sungchan’s cross necklace dangling in front of you.

“How are you so good with this? Aren’t you a little virgin?”

“I practiced with my pillow, thinking it was you.”

Your eyes rolled at the back of your head at the thought of Sungchan desperately fucking a pillow. The image pushing you to the edge as you came, fluid gushing out of you as you mewled. Sungchan continued thrusting in and out of you, holding your waist and burying his head at the crook of your neck. His pace started slowing down after he came inside you, riding out the both of your highs.

Sungchan laid on top of you as you both catched your breaths. Once his breathing was even, he lay down beside you, pulling you on top of him. You cuddled into him, feeling his hand move around your body, tracing patterns on your skin.

“Have I ever told you how much I love your eyes?” Sungchan pecks your right eyelid, twirling the strands of your hair with his fingers.

I love your eyes. You felt a sinking feeling in your stomach. No one has ever told you they liked your fiery eyes. Moreover, no one has ever told you they loved your eyes. You were speechless.

You let Sungchan play with your hair, tracing the lines of his abdomen in turn.

“Did it hurt when you were turned into a devil?” At your questioning look he added, “I read somewhere that the process of becoming a devil brings unbearable pain to an angel’s body. You were once an angel too…” Sungchan strokes your cheeks, pushing your hair behind your ear.

For some reason, you felt something break in you. You were once an angel too. The warmth of Sungchan’s body engulfing you was enough to comfort you.

“I can’t really remember. Our memories were wiped clean the moment we turned to devils. Why do you ask?”

“I just… You don’t deserve it, that’s all.”

“I’m glad you think that way, angel.”

“Do I really have to go?” You groaned, kicking your feet in the air. You were laying down on the couch when you overheard Sungchan talking to his dad.

“Yes. My dad wants to know how you’re doing and I haven’t been to church lately,” Sungchan answered as he placed the dirty dishes in the sink.

“Huh, I wonder why…” you sat up to look at him teasingly. Sungchan grins, wiping his hands on the cloth hanging at the oven door handle, walking towards you.

“Because a certain devil has me wrapped around their fingers, now I’m following whatever they say,” Sungchan bops your nose with his index finger, making you smile. “Not right now, though, because I actually have to tend to my angel duties.”

“Boring,” you sighed.

“You need to come with me,” Sungchan whined.

“Fine. Stop your whining, it’s unbecoming,” you roll your eyes.

“Wait— you’re not gonna burst into flames when we enter the church right?” Sungchan said worriedly.

“No, dumbass. I used to be an angel, remember?”

“Oh…” Sungchan lifts you up from the couch. “Let’s go get ready then.”

The two of you didn’t take too long to get ready, rushing to Sungchan’s car, to be on time. Once you arrived at the church you felt shivers run along your spine, the chills in your body worsened when you came face to face with Sungchan’s dad.

You exchange pleasantries with him, staying silent and letting Sungchan do most of the talking, as you obviously didn’t know what the hell they were talking about.

“Hey, dad. I think I should show her around, she hasn’t been here before,” Sungchan said after his father asked something church related. Nice save.

“Well I’ll leave you two to it, then,” Sungchan’s dad smiled, walking off to the other end of the church.

On the contrary to your beliefs, and who or what you were, the place was beautiful. High ceiling, lots of windows, oak wood adorning the pews; it should look like any other church but this one was breathtaking.

Sungchan started walking and you followed suit, he then started pointing out rooms and other uninteresting things while walking. You frowned. You didn’t think he would actually give you a tour of the church.

Once you went back to the main area of the church, he directed you at the back near the entrance, where a few other doors were lined near the candles section. You wondered what was behind all of the closed doors in front of you.

You took a peak of Sungchan who was busy lighting up the candles. Curiosity got the best of you as you slowly strolled to the direction of the closed doors, opening one and going in.

It wasn’t anything special, just a dark confined room that is connected to another with a divider.

“This is the confession room,” you looked behind you to see Sungchan standing with his arms crossed, leaning against the open door. He looked around before closing the door shut, joining you inside the confined space. He moved closer to your body, towering over you as he placed his hands on your waist. “This is where angels confess their sins.” Sungchan whispered, placing a kiss under your ears.

“Hm… well I have a confession to make.” You looked up at him, even in the dark Sungchan looked good; white buttoned up shirt hugging his broad shoulders, with the sleeves rolled up, showcasing his veiny arms you love so much. “You look absolutely hot right now, and I want you to fuck me now.”

Sungchan chuckled. “Well, it’s your lucky day.”

Sungchan pulls you close to him, kissing you deeply. You pulled on his pants, unzipping it and pulling his dick out, you moved your hand up and down while he moved your panties aside, inserting two fingers inside you.

“I love this dress,” Sungchan kissed your forehead, spinning you around so that you were facing the door. Through the door, you could see the altar through the dotted holes adorning the top of the door. You felt Sungchan wrap his left arm around your waist, his fingers still inside you slowly moving in and out. The warmth of his dick twitches behind you, touching your lower back as he holds you close. “Make sure you stay quiet, darling.”

Sungchan pulls his fingers out of you, replacing it with his angry dick. You squealed at the stretch, both of your hands moving to cover your mouth. You look straight ahead, getting a glimpse of the structures on the altar.

“I’m sorry…” you said, muffled. Sungchan lightly laughs as he wraps both of his arms around you, lifting you up. Sungchan leans his back at the wall behind him, experimentally moving you up and down his cock. At your muffled moan he moves you faster, the skin of your ass hitting the skin of his thighs.

“You’re so wet…” Sungchan groaned, biting his lips to keep himself quiet.

Your eyes roll at the back of your head when Sungchan hits a particular spot, letting out a louder moan that seeps past your hands. Sungchan panicky moves his right hand to cover your mouth, his hands big enough to cover both of your hands. He shushes you, rubbing your clit with his other hand. How the fuck is he holding you up with one hand? You clenched around him, making him groan.

“Almost close?” Sungchan whispered, you nodded as an answer, not trusting yourself of not making a noise when you removed your hands to speak. “Cum for me, darling.”

You came all over Sungchan, him following after. As you both catch your breaths, Sungchan holds you close to him, still inside you as he whispered again.

“I have another confession to make, I want to fuck you again.”

Life had never treated Sungchan better than the last few months he was with you.

The both of you had been seeing each other weekly, whether it be to fuck or just to hang out, Sungchan enjoyed your company.

You were surprised at how needy Sungchan was, always wanting to be close to you or touching you at any given moment.

Sungchan was calling Ningning less and less as your ‘relationship’ with him progressed, coming up with excuses like having to help out his father to avoid her calls.

Sungchan woke up from the brightness of the sunlight, rubbing his eyes as he sat up. He read the clock on top of his bedside table, not surprised at the time.

Beside him, you were sprawled out in his bed, wearing nothing but his shirt, sleeping peacefully. The sunlight highlighted your body. Sungchan smiled, kissing your forehead before he got up. He grabbed a shirt to wear on his way out, messing up his already messy hair.

He went to the kitchen, catching a glimpse of his reflection through the window. You truly do enjoy leaving love bites. Why is it so cold today?

Sungchan shivered, returning to his bedroom to put on a hoodie, peeking at you as he put on the hoodie you love so much on him. As if you sensed his presence, you rolled to your side, to face him.

“Why are you up so early?” You mumbled, sleepily.

“It’s noon, darling,” Sungchan crawled to his bed, wrapping his arms around you. He inspected your face for any discomfort that you might have after last night’s escapades. “You alright?”

“Tired..” you yawned, wrapping your arms around Sungchan.

“Oh…”

You snuggled into Sungchan, enjoying his warmth. The two of you stayed like that for a while.

The doorbell rang.

“I’ll go get it,” Sungchan kissed your forehead again before walking to the direction of his front door. He didn’t expect any visitors today so it might be someone delivering his package. As he swung the door open, shock infiltrated his senses after seeing who was behind the door.

Ningning.

“Surprise, Love!”

Oh, it was a surprise for Sungchan indeed.

#riize smut #sungchan smut #sungchan x reader smut #sungchan x reader #riize x reader #riize fics #riize fanfic

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a-local-idiots-shitpost · 1 year

Text

Mc keeps the Dateables up at Night

Diavolo:

you wanted to stay up all night long, without him???

what a crime, he should throw you into the dungeons! just kidding but he does not appreciate that you wanted to stay up the entire night to play games with Leviathan

to make it up to him you should stay awake with him :)

you could do a lot of fun things in the Castle, tour the Gardens at night, listen to the screams of the Damned, running away from Barbatos because both of you should be asleep or sneaking some snacks into his room

if it wasn´t for the fact that Barbatos would kill you if he found out Diavolo didn´t sleep you would be up for it

but know you have to find a way to get him to sleep

Barbatos:

this man just doesn´t sleep, or maybe he just does but you never notice it

considering it´s Barbatos both could be a thing

while he didn´t appreciate your stupid little stunts as long as they didn´t wake Diavolo he doesn´t care what you do

and if your already awake you can help him with cleaning the Demon Lord´s Castle

by hand of course, no magic or anything allowed :)

maybe you should have thought twice before thinking about bothering Barbatos, the worat part was the torture chamber

man cleaning this alone was a form of torture

but Barbatos made you whatever you wanted as a payment so I guess it evens out

Solomon:

you put a pipe bomb into his cauldron, you were actually hoping the explosion would knock him out and render him unconscious, the only way you can get Solomon to sleep

but all you achieved was blowing up his cauldron

and he was even a bit proud of you for pulling this of without him noticing

but you did ruin his newest experiment without even thinking of how difficult it was to get them

good for him that he has such a capable apprentice who would love nothing more than help him :)

unless of course they want to experience the worst curses he has who won´t do them major bodily or mental harm :)

which means they get to experience the fun adventure of diving into the deepest ocean in the Devildom to gather scales of an incredibly hard to escape from predator, climb the highest mountain to gather feathers from a Human eating species of birds, getting a flesh eating plant which could easily burn your flesh of and many more wonderful (terrifying) things

Simeon:

you did something really simple

you pulled the fire alarm and watched him run out in panic

it was really funny until it wasn´t

turns out Simeon didn´t think it was so funny to wake him up so early

good for you he didn´t find the mega phone and air horn that you wanted to use when he fell asleep again

but yeah he did not appreciate you waking him and he appreciated it even less when he found out you wanted to keep him up just for fun

as punishment you weren´t allowed to come back to Purgatory Hall for one month

and of course you aren´t allowed to eat anything they made during the month (unless it was Solomon, then you have to be the sacrificial Sheep)

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me imagines #obey me headcanons #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me simeon

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imagine-darksiders · 2 years

Note

So, what do you think of this? Bowser sees Y/N in an extreme state of danger, like, I dunno, trying to be taken against her will by an arranged Prince suitor or something, and the state of her distress/fear get's him so mad he transforms into Giga Bowser.

Well, first of all, I have done nothing BUT think of this for the past week! Thanks so much for the inspiration! Here's a little drabble <3

TW: Physical abuse, Kidnapping, Captive Reader, Implied arranged marriage, Giga Bowser is kinda scary? Mentions of being eaten etc

----

Bowser's thunderous footsteps come grinding to a halt of their own accord, stilling the colossal Koopa in his tracks at the opposite end of the docks, his eyes bulging open at the sight that looms out of the mist to greet him.

He's found you, his little runaway, for which he's rendered breathless with palpable relief.

But to his mounting dismay, there's another human with you.

A stranger...

A man.

And not only is this man encroaching well into your personal space, but his hands have captured your wrists as well, keeping you anchored in place with his chest shoved firmly against yours.

The pair of you are so wrapped up in the presence of the other, that neither one of you notices the King lurking nearby.

For a single beat, Bowser almost can't tear his wild-eyed stare away from the fingertips squeezing into your supple skin.

But then, he hears your voice, laden with thick and palpable alarm that's badly disguised by the composure you're attempting to maintain.

“Falkner, please,” you're shakily telling the other human, “Whatever agreement you may have had with my father is null and void now that he's dead!”

“Bullshit!” the stranger is quick to contend, giving you a rough jostle that throws fuel on the fire already raging in Bowser's gut, “Your old man promised you to me! I didn't sail halfway around the world just to be told no!”

Neither of you register the Koopa, not even when he lowers his horned head and takes a heavy, dangerous step towards you, his hackles starting to rise just like his gorge.

Just who the Hell does this idiot think he is to speak to you so crassly?!

Another step sends the pebbles near his feet skittering across the ground.

Your jaw is set, but you continue to tug at your ensnared wrists as you retort, “Promises made in a drunken stupor are hardly binding agreements!”

The man's face is swiftly changing from sallow and pallid to a vivid crimson and he parts his lips to shout, “You are mine by rights! You're coming with me!”

“Let me GO!” At last, perhaps inevitably, your voice cracks.

Bowser's jaw aches with how tightly his fangs are wedged together.

He can feel a fireball trying to crawl its way up his throat, leaving a sting that burns like venom along the walls of his trachea, but he gulps it down. No matter how great and terrible his rage might grow, he'd be remiss to let an attack loose with you so close to the firing line.

But there's something else building in his chest. Something swollen and ugly that rumbles like a slumbering giant just underneath his scales when he sees the moisture glistening on your dainty eyelashes.

Bowser hasn't ever seen you cry. Not even when he informed you that you'd be a permanent guest at his castle. Not even when it dawned on you that you could never go back to your old home across the seas. Not even when you fell from your window during an escape attempt and sprained your ankle, and the pain was great enough that you actually clung to him as he lifted you gently into his arms, your lips stuffed together to refrain from whimpering.

So to see you this close to tears now instills an outrage in him that differs from his usual temper. This is tumultuous. Primal, even.

He wants you to notice him now, to glance over and see that he's here for you, that you'll be all right because Bowser would never let anything bad happen to you.

Heart aflame, his pace quickens to a lurching gallop.

With a wrench, you manage to free one of your hands from Falkner's grip and use it to pry his fingers from your remaining wrist. “I said, GET! OFF!”

The anger in Bowser's chest dims only slightly to make room for a burst of pride.

But that momentary delight is stamped out as swiftly as it comes.

In an awful, jarring instant, the man - evidently fed up with your continued resistance – reels his hand back into the air behind his head, fingers pressed together, open-palmed...

Bowser can see the disaster unfurling right in front of him, but his shame is in knowing that he was too slow to stop it from happening.

The hand hurtles forwards...

A harrowing 'CRACK' ruptures the air as calloused skin meets the vulnerable flesh of your cheek.

Your head is flung sideways and you cry out, eyes wide with shock, and it's only then that your startled gaze land upon your audience. Cheek humming, the tears finally spill over the walls of your eyelids, tumbling in ceaseless rivulets down your face.

You choke on a wet sob, unable to drag your gaze away from the Koopa.

You can't summon the will to be pleased for his interference, if anything, you're ashamed to have been caught by your captor in a moment of such vulnerability.

Perhaps it's the tears distorting your vision, or perhaps the slap had knocked something loose in your brain, but through blurred vision, you think you can see a change come over Bowser, and if you didn't know any better, you'd almost swear that he was growing.

A hiss from your side catches your attention, but you don't turn to look at Falkner, though you can see him flapping his hand about to rid it of the lingering sting. “Damn,” he sucks a breath through his teeth, “Now look what you made me do... If you hadn't been so difficult, I wouldn't've had to do-” He finally notices the ground trembling beneath his leather boots. "-that...?"

Whatever had been hiding under the surface of Bowser's scales is howling out with rage, stirred from its slumber by the vicious and unprovoked attack on his friend.

Muscles ripple and bulge as they expand, bones snap, twisting out of shape. The Koopa King's gums burn as his fangs grow longer, sharper, squeaking against one another whilst his rapidly changing jaw struggles to keep up with their rate of growth.

It's agony, this transformation, but it can't be helped.

His friend has been struck. Hurt. And everything in him, every last instinct and sinew and atom, is bellowing out at him that he needs to protect you.

He would swallow this agony over and over again if it keeps you from experiencing pain.

He may be monstrous in size and temperament, but he isn't a monster.

He can't be...

Anger feeds into his expanding body, giving itself more space to spread like a wildfire, or perhaps more like a wave of churning acid that washes through his veins and takes the place of his blood.

It must... Because his body feels as if it's corroding.

“What the HELL is that?!”

Falkner's shriek adequately echoes your own inner monologue.

And you thought Bowser was terrifying before.

The tyrant must be absolutely livid with you for managing to escape from your room. If only you hadn't run into Sir Falkner on the docks. You went looking for a rescue party, but the man who did come to 'rescue' you might be even worse than King Bowser. At least Bowser, for all his uninvited clinginess, had never raised a hand against you.

Now though, locked in his blood-red stare, you start to wonder if you've pushed your luck just a step too far.

Pounding footsteps take off behind you, slapping against the cobblestone as Falkner simply turns tail and runs, leaving you frozen in place with your limbs as rigid as petrified wood, like your body knows instinctively that to turn your back and run from something with teeth that sharp is a very bad idea.

Inevitably, Bowser's head shoots up almost the moment Falkner starts to flee, and you're helpless but to watch on in horror as a gigantic paw surges over your head and snatches your would-be suitor right off the ground, hoisting the man up into the air.

Falker's resulting scream chills you down to the marrow in your bones, so wracked with terror and urgency that it sets your teeth on edge.

The oversized Koopa draws the thrashing human up to his maw and peels back his thick, rubbery lips, giving Falkner an uninterrupted view of his fate.

A constant growl spills between gleaming fangs, each one about the length of your own forearm, and the sound itself is loud enough that it could be mistaken for an unending grumble of far-off thunder, easily drowning out the man's screams.

It's gruesome to see. Your imagination runs wild with awful possibilities that you pray don't come to pass. Trembling in your boots, you lower your gaze to stare unblinkingly at the ground instead whilst short, sharp breaths fall out of your lungs, coming fast enough to leave you feeling light-headed.

Slowly, carefully, you take a single step back.

This might be your only chance to escape.

But then, like a damning acknowledgement of your cowardice, Falkner screams your name.

“Y/N!” he screeches, his back arched against the pain of being crushed in Bowser's grip, “HELP ME! PLEASE!”

'...You don't have to help him,' logic whispers into your ear, set on self-preservation, 'Nobody but his mother would miss him. He's a bad person, and you're not a hero.'

No. You're not a hero. And it certainly wouldn't be heroic to save a man like Falkner, who does more harm than good most days.

Bowser's immense jaws part in reaction to the human's screams, and his growl explodes into a deafening roar that blasts the man's hair back and forces him to pinch his eyes firmly shut.

Similarly, you raise your hands and slap them over your ears, teeth grit until the sound starts to fade. You can only imagine what the volume had done to Falkner's eardrums.

Even through the cushioning of your palms, you still hear him crying out once more, “DO SOMETHING!”

… Your head twists slowly towards a little wooden boat that bobs invitingly on the nearby docks. You're strong enough to work the oars, you could very easily jump into it, raise the little, white sail and let the wind carry you far out to sea, away from this place.

Away from Bowser.

This could be your only shot of escaping imprisonment and going home.

“I beg of you!”

… You could...

“Y/N!”

… Oh, damn it all.

Your eyes snap back up to Falkner and you immediately start to feel the burning of your cheek, as if to remind you of what he did.

But already, your scruples are disintegrating. A direct cry for help is a tough thing to ignore, after all.

On shaking knees, you reclaim the step you'd made in retreat and instead move towards Bowser, tipping your head back and peeling your tongue from the roof of your bone-dry mouth. “B-!” You falter on the first syllable and have to swallow roughly before trying again. “Bowser!”

Almost as soon as it had begun, the thunderous roar falls silent, echoing off in the distance until it's lost over the crashing waves.

Falkner continues to gasp and whimper inside the colossal fist, but those haunting, blood-red eyes turn gradually in your direction, pinning you once again in their subtle glow.

Your legs threaten to buckle as you realise he's now focusing solely on you.

You've no idea if he can be reasoned with in this state, but you know you can't do much else but try. “Release him, Bowser!” you yelp without an ounce of any real authority, “I'm the one who ran from you! Not him! Put him down!”

The docks are still and disarmingly placid for a time, disturbed only by the sounds of Falkner struggling to free himself, and the breaths that enter and leave a set of gargantuan lungs.

The hulking Koopa continues to glower down at you, his nostrils flared wide to reveal a red-hot glow from within, like a burning core.

Just as you begin to fear that your plea will go unheeded, Bowser hisses through his fangs, and then, without much ceremony, he simply opens his fist and Falkner goes tumbling out of it, landing awkwardly on his ankle and eliciting a yelp of pain. Still, he wastes no time in whirling over onto his backside and kicking madly to push himself out from under the behemoth's shadow.

You follow his retreat from the corner of an eye, but you don't break Bowser's stare.

You daren't, even as he takes a lumbering step in your direction. The ground underneath your shudders with the impact, as though the island itself is afraid of his wrath.

Another step covers much of the distance between you, and the realisation that he's coming your way snaps you out of your trance. You've given Falkner a chance to escape. Now, you'll be taking yours.

Skirts flying, you whip yourself about and take off in a dead sprint. Behind you, the air quivers as Bowser releases an urgent chuff, the heat from his breath washing disconcertingly over the back of your neck and spurring you to kick up your heels.

However, you barely make it ten paces before a colossal palm suddenly descends from the sky and crashes into the ground just ahead of you. You let out a yelp and hit the brakes, but you've already come too close to his hand, and so, like a venus fly trap closes around a hapless insect, Bowser's fingers spring to action, sweeping you up off your feet and pinning you against the soft, warm leather of his palm.

“No, no, no!” you bleat, scrabbling desperately at thick scales as the ground falls away below you and you find yourself lifted up to Bowser's big, yellow muzzle.

All you can do is wait for the crunch. For the pain. To hear your bones grind together when he eventually clenches his fist.

You're ashamed to cry in front of him, but you're too afraid to stop. Nausea churns your stomach and you screw up your face in anticipation, eyes clamped tightly closed.

The agony of waiting is almost too much for you to bear.

You're too wrapped up in your fear to notice that Bowser has yet to even slightly tighten his grasp. If anything, his hold is shockingly gentle. The pad of an immense thumb is pressed against your belly, exerting just enough pressure to keep you safely tucked in the hollow of his palm.

Several, unbearable seconds tick by whilst you quiver and breathe as though you've just run a mile.

You nearly lose your composure, biting down on your tongue to stop yourself from demanding that he just get your punishment over with.

And then, you feel it.

A gentle pressure, so light that you'd think a butterfly must have landed on your neck, but when your eyes burst open and you catch sight of a monolithic finger all but filling your field of view, you realise what a fool you were to close your eyes at all.

Bowser, it seems, has raised his unoccupied hand towards you, and the very tip of a single claw has come to rest in the hollow of your throat. You can feel it's ghosting presence as you swallow thickly and your larynx presses a little more solidly against it for all of a second.

You're too stunned to make a move.

With a gentleness that doesn't at all befit his size, Bowser slowly lifts his claw, and in doing so, your head is pushed up, then turned slightly to one side, exposing your cheek.

The cheek that had been viciously struck.

Why is he...?

Pinned under the weight of his scrutiny, you fall utterly motionless, your mouth stuck open as if you're emitting a silent scream.

A lonely tear escapes the confines of your lashes and trickles down to your chin when it dangles precariously for a before it falls, plopping down onto Bowser's fingertip.

The behemoth's muzzle shifts close, and those dark and dangerous eyes narrow to thin slits as he inspects your cheek. You'd almost entirely forgotten about the throbbing ache lancing across your face, and even now, adrenaline is doing wonders at keeping most of the discomfort at bay.

All of a sudden, Bowser's pupils shrink and a thrum of aggression starts up in his chest like the engine of some ancient and powerful machine. Drawing his head away from you, he twists it over his bulging shoulder and aims a vicious snarl in the direction that Falkner had fled.

You can't help but flinch when his fingers twitch around you, but he must have noticed the movement, because not a second later, the growl is cut off and he swings his nose around to peer down at you again, his slitted pupils expanding like ink in water once they land on you.

Your pulse is jackhammering against your skin. Nothing about this is adding up. He seems more agitated about Falkner than about you. But... you're the escaped prisoner...

You don't have much time to ponder over his strange behaviour though. Just as carefully as it had appeared, the Koopa's forefinger slides gradually from beneath your chin and you can finally gulp down a greedy breath of air, realising belatedly that you'd stopped breathing the moment he touched you.

All around you, the behemoth starts to move, pulling you close and tucking you against his chest as he takes step after impossibly lengthy step, turning his immense bulk about to head back across the island to your gloomy, familiar prison.

--------------

You used to wonder if it was simply Bowser's ostentatious taste in décor that made him choose such grand, wide doorways to separate the rooms of his castle. Now however, as the gargantuan Koopa squeezes himself through the entrance to your given chambers, his shell scraping noisily against the wooden doorframes, you realise the design might lend more to practicality than aesthetic, especially if this... transformation happens on a regular basis around here.

God, you hope not...

You've remained stiff as a board in Bowser's unwavering grasp all the way back, fearful of provoking a violent reaction out of him like you had when you tried to struggle out of Falkner's grip.

Shoulders sagging as he releases a massive sigh, the Koopa trundles to a stop at the foot of your bed and at long, long last, he peels you away from his chest. Your ears ring after so much time spent having to listen to a mighty heart thudding rhythmically right next to your head.

Again, with a care that you certainly never would have expected him to possess, Bowser cups you in his palms and lowers you onto the plush sheets, sliding his hands out from underneath you as if he's placing down a fragile, porcelain doll.

As soon as you're out of his grasp, he deflates, heaving a billowing breath and all but dropping onto all fours in front of you. Alarmed, you scramble backwards until your spine hits the bed's headboard, blurting out a yelp when Bowser's chin drops down to thwack on the sheets in front of you. The weight of his skull alone causes the bed to buckle and groan in protest, but to your astonishment, it somehow manages to support him as he gets himself settled, peering down the length of his snout and ensnaring you in that ruby-red gaze once more.

Your fingers flex into the sheets around you, bunching them up and wrinkling the fine cotton.

'Now what's he doing?'

His eyes are glued to your cheek again, his intense stare broken by the occasional, languid blink.

You're not expecting it when he suddenly moves.

He only extends his neck a little to bring his head closer to you, but he's so massive, the motion it far more jarring from your perspective. With a shriek, you slam your eyes shut and instinctively throw up your hands, pressing them hard against the soft muzzle, as if they alone are enough to keep him from advancing on you any further. To your immense shock however, the moment your fingers meet the warm surface of his nose, Bowser falls still.

You risk prying open an eyelid to peep up at him.

Judging by the impossibly wide smile that now stretches across his face, he's apparently delighted by this new development.

This is the first time you've touched his face.

Your palm is almost lost to a vast expanse of yellow skin, sitting right on the ridge of his nose between his flaring nostrils.

The Koopa's own gaze is heavy-lidded, each pupil angled to keep you within his sights whilst a pleased hum travels through his throat and causes the bed to quake underneath you.

His fangs remain safely tucked behind his lips, and as the seconds tick by without your hand getting snapped off, the tension in your fingers gradually begins to dissipate.

With your heartbeat receding as well, you allow yourself to lightly stroke just the tips of your fingers down his snout until they pause on the cusp of his upper lip, drawing a reverent shudder from the almighty juggernaut.

Pressing your teeth together, you inhale slowly through your nose, and murmur, “...Bowser?”

It's as if you've just broken him from some kind of trance.

The King's face suddenly twists up and he emits a throaty groan, like he's in pain.

Quick as a flash, you tear your hand from his muzzle and press yourself back as far away as you can when he peels his chin from the bed and brings both of his gargantuan paws up to clutch at his head, staggering to his feet.

“Bowser!” you cry again, this time in alarm, “What's happening!?”

A disconcerting notion occurs to you - that he could be on the verge of going bezerk - and you hurriedly throw back the covers with a view to scramble off the bed and make a break for the doors. But as soon as you move, the Koopa's eyes spring open again and zero in on you, trapping you in a stare so full of frantic desperation that you stop at once, though more from confusion than fear.

And so, you're left to do nothing but watch as the jagged behemoth undergoes another, painful transformation.

The heavy shell on his back grows smaller, losing the serrated quality of its spikes. His tail shortens, his jutting fangs soften around their edges. The sweeping horns on his head recede back inside his rapidly shrinking skull until only their tips remain poking out from between his mess of a mane.

You almost choke on a gushing sigh of relief when at last, the King is back to his regular, brutish self, knelt on the ground at the foot of your bed - though it strikes you quite abruptly that you shouldn't be feeling reassured by Bowser's presence, no matter which form he takes.

Despite your misgivings, you still find yourself croaking out, “A-are you okay?”

Arduously, he braces a palm on the end of the bed and uses it to push himself up onto his feet again, eventually dragging his eyes over to you. He gives you a brief, searching glance, focusing for an uncomfortable minute on your face, then, without a word, the Koopa spins around and staggers purposefully towards the adjoining bathroom, disappearing through the door.

Plagued by uncertainty, you allow your fists to tentatively unclench around the bedsheets, lowering them into your lap as the squeak of a tap filters out from beyond the ensuite door, followed by the unmistakable rush of running water.

Another squeak... and a few moments later, the Koopa comes stomping back into the room, this time with a wet flannel clutched inside his meaty paw.

“You should've let me pulverise 'im,” he grumbles, stalking around the bed until he comes to the side you're sitting on.

Gobsmacked, you let your mouth fall open, close it, then open it once more to ask, “I... I beg your pardon?”

“That GUY!” he snaps, “You shouldn't'a stopped me. He deserved the worst!”

You blink stupidly, lifting your eyebrows in tandem until they sit high on your forehead. “I'm sorry.. Are we... not going to talk about what just happened to you!?”

“What's there to talk about?” he grunts, flicking his tail up onto the bed before sinking his hefty backside down after it, fidgeting with the sodden flannel between his claws, “You got hurt. I got mad.”

“You got mad!?” Scoffing at the absurd understatement, you continue, “Bowser - you turned into a gigantic, terrifying monster who looked like he was three seconds away from chewing me up and spitting me back out! All because somebody slapped me!?”

You expect an uproarious retort, which would definitely be in keeping with your usual repartee with him, so it comes as a shock when Bowser glares heatedly at you for a few moments, then merely turns his nose away from you, hiding his expression.

It's... notably uncharacteristic of the hot-tempered Koopa. So much so that it prompts you to tilt your head and call, “Bowser?”

You can't see his face beyond the shell that covers his back, but motion on the covers draws your gaze down to see his tail. Slowly, the appendage curls inwards, tucking itself up against his thigh. Dejected.

“You didn't deserve what he did...”

You look up at Bowser again, blinking owlishly to find his arm reaching back towards you, though the King keeps his face stubbornly pointed in the opposite direction. The little, white flannel is draped across his proffered palm.

Keeping a dubious eye on the Koopa, you hesitantly stretch your hand out to his, pinching the fabric between your thumb and forefinger and pausing for a second to marvel over how cold it is. Drawing it into your grasp, you waste no time in bringing it up to your face and gently pressing the cool material against your cheek, unable to keep back the tiny smile that grows on your face with that slight modicum of relief.

You recognise his gesture is meant to be a peace offering, and you are grateful for the flannel... But you're also still bitter.

“So,” you hum pensively, eyeing his robust arm as it drops down to rest on the bed beside him, “I didn't deserve that. But I do deserve to be locked up and held prisoner in your castle?”

“I keep you safe.” His head twitches in your direction with a cursory show of teeth that are hardly very frightening anymore, not now that you've seen what they can become, “I keep you fed and warm and happy. I'd never hurt you.”

“No. You keep me fed and warm, and that's it,” you tell him sharply, “I don't feel safe here. And I am far from happy.”

You're more than aware that you're antagonising him, but you think you're damn well within your rights to do so. It isn't enough that he keeps you locked up in this castle and forbids you your freedom, but now he expects you to act as if you're happy about it too?

Another, disgruntled noise leaves him as he lurches off the bed, landing on his feet with a thud.

"Where are you going?" you demand.

"I'm-!" Bowser heaves a sigh, running a clawed hand through his thick, fiery mane. “I'm goin' to get you a proper ice-pack...” Trailing off, the King tromps heavily across your room, making his agitation known with every, deliberate step until he reaches the door.

Your teeth tug at a piece of loose skin on your lower lip. “... Bowser.”

He pauses, his hulking frame suddenly looking so small and vulnerable in the gargantuan doorway, with one of his hands sitting poised upon the handle.

Even from the bed, you can see the flash of his crimson iris swivelling in your direction.

You try to regard him passively, but the ice in your gaze is starting to melt fraction by fraction, and you don't know whether he can see it or not. “... Thanks,” you call gently anyway, lifting your shoulder into a shrug, “For... you know, for scaring Falkner off.”

You watch his eyelid widen, as if he's surprised to hear a word of thanks, from you of all people.

There's even the minutest quiver in his lip as it tries to tug itself up into the ghost of a smile. But then, he gives his head a rough shake, and the smile is gone.

“Just protectin' what's mine,” he rumbles, pushing the door open and slipping through the gap. The door closes again a second later, and your ears catch the sound of a heavy key sliding into the lock and turning, sending the tumblers clunking home.

… What's his...

Right.

A hollow space expands between your ribs, the familiar hole that disappointment often leaves behind.

Drawing your knees up against your chest, you wrap an arm around yourself for comfort, keeping the flannel pressed to your cheek as you wait for him to return with that ice pack.

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