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heart-of-the-morningstar · 1 month

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✨Dress Up, Part 1: The Proposal✨

IT IS DONE HOLY SHIT! Yeah, I had to change this fic 3 different times, I'm really sorry this one took so long. Hopefully you all like this one and thank you for your patience <3

Consider this a reward for kicking Vox's ass in this poll and declaring our short king the ACTUAL hottest character in Hazbin Hotel lmao

Edit: This is now going to be a multi-chapter story! Look forward to more! Thank you all for the support 💖

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: Lucifer takes you dress shopping for a special night out, but for some reason he's been acting a little strange lately...

Warnings: 18+, smut, public teasing, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v

Lucifer excitedly told you that he wanted to take you dress shopping today. It wasn't out of the norm for you two to go out on the town and indulge on some sort of spending spree together. Plus Lucifer absolutely loved buying things for you; whether it be precious jewelry, beautiful flowers, or brand-new clothes. But you had to admit it's been a while since you've gone out, what with Lucifer spending a majority of time at the hotel assisting his daughter Charlie. You were so happy that they were able to rekindle their bond after so many years of being apart. You were more than happy to help with the hotel as well! You found ways to help Charlie with whatever she needed, which somehow ended up being more than you initially thought. It was exhausting to say the least, but you enjoyed it nonetheless! You were very much looking forward to going out today with your beloved king. And of course he was taking you to one of the most esteemed shops in all of Hell, Vivacious by Velvette. He truly spared no expense when it came to you.

But for some reason, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was…off about Lucifer today.

He didn't seem upset or angry or anything of the sort. More like, he was scared? Or perhaps nervous about something? You couldn't think of anything that could be making him feel this way. The hotel was doing great, Charlie and Lucifer’s relationship was better than it’s ever been, and you and Lucifer have been nothing but enamored with each other. You were just clothes shopping after all. You two had been dating for some time now; you remembered how Lucifer used to be all kinds of flustered during your first few outings. You thought it was adorable the way he stumbled over his words when he brought up the newest duck he had added to his collection or when he complimented every single outfit you’ve ever worn. He still did those things, of course, but he slowly became more and more comfortable and confident around you. But today was something you’ve never seen before. The wary smiles he’s been giving throughout day, the jitteriness of his movements anytime you approached him, his rapid speech patterns…was he hiding something from you? You intended to get to the bottom of it.

You walked down the streets of Hell with Lucifer by your side, his arm linked with yours. You stepped into the lavish shop, dresses of all kids hung from the racks: ball gowns, sun dresses, cocktail dresses; anything you could think of was there! Lucifer told you to take your time and to pick out as many as you wanted to try on while he waited for you by the dressing room. Despite the plethora of options at your fingertips, you only found yourself intrigued by a handful of dresses. Some with more material than others but you'd thought you'd give them a try regardless; you weren't shy when it came to your body.

You grabbed the three dresses that appealed to you the most and made your way towards the changing rooms. Just as he promised, you saw Lucifer standing at the end of the hall waiting for you. But he didn't seem to notice you at first, his attention was elsewhere. Next to the changing rooms was the most impressive collection of wedding dresses you'd ever seen in Hell and even on Earth, each more breathtaking than the last. You noticed Lucifer staring at the wall of dresses with an almost wishful expression, reaching out to touch one of the dresses' lacy sleeve, gently massaging it between his fingers. You smiled and quietly walked over to join him.

"They're really beautiful, aren't they?," you said, snapping him out of his trance and making him jump a bit. He smiled at you, his hand still holding onto the sleeve.

"Absolutely stunning," he beamed. Although, with the way he was looking at you, it didn't seem like he was referring to the dresses. You felt a small blush creep across your cheeks.

One of the employees walked up to you and directed you to an empty changing room. Lucifer waited outside patiently, smiling at you as you closed the sort behind you. The first dress you wanted to try on was a simple black sheath dress. Once you slipped it on, you reached behind of and attempted to grab the zipper. You can only manage to pull it up so far before it wouldn’t budge anymore, causing you to huff in frustration. Slowly, you opened the door to see Lucifer’s eager face staring back at you.

“I need your help, hon,” you admitted. “I can’t reach the zipper.”

Quickly, Lucifer stood up and followed you into the changing room. You turned your back to him and lifted your hair up and out of the way so the zipper couldn’t catch it. Lucifer placed one hand on your hip and the other on the back of your dress. You heard the zipper moving, but it only took you a second to realize it was moving in the wrong direction. Cheeky bastard, you thought to yourself.

“Up, Lucifer,” you said with a smirk, glancing at him over your shoulder. You heard a light chuckle escape him.

“Sorry, darling,” he apologized almost insincerely, peppering kisses down your neck, “can’t help myself when it comes to you.” Lethargically, he pulled the zipper up to the top, finally letting your hair fall back down. If he wanted to play games, you were more than happy to participate. Because you knew how to win. And just maybe, you could get him to admit to whatever he was keeping from you.

“I wouldn’t start something that you’re not ready to finish, sweet pea,” you threatened with a smug grin.

Before Lucifer could get a word out, you spun around and pushed him gently against the wall, eliciting a small yelp from him. You placed both of your arms on either side of his head, effectively trapping him. His eyes widened, sucking in a breath as he realized how vulnerable he was in this new position he had found himself in. His head and hands became flat against the wall as he looked into your now ravenous eyes.

“My love, p-please,” he began to stammer, “I-I didn’t want to-HNG,” you effectively cut off his meek pleas as your one hand traveled down below his belt. You maneuvered your hand up and down at an agonizingly slow pace. Nonetheless, you felt him start to harden underneath his pants almost instantly. You flashed a devious smile, but he didn’t see it, as he had screwed his eyes shut. Baring his clenched teeth, he tried desperately to hold his breath as to not make any lewd noises. You took that as a challenge, of course.

“So it’s only alright if you get to tease me, is that it, Luci?,” you questioned, leaning your head forward with your lips now pressed against his ear. “Now that doesn’t seem fair at all, does it?”

Lucifer gulped as you continued your teasing ministrations. “I’m s-sorry, sweetheart,” he looked at you doe-eyed. “P-Please don’t-mmph…don’t do this, not here. I won’t be able to hold back, not today…”

“Oh, I’m counting on that,” you retorted. “You know you’ve been acting out of sorts all day, don’t think I haven’t noticed. Maybe if you tell me what’s wrong, I’ll show you some mercy.”

Lucifer audibly gulped at your words. "It's…it's nothing, angel, I promise, I just-fuck," you pressed your hand in harder against the growing tent in his pants, silencing his response.

"You hesitated just now," you told him. "If that's how you want it to be, so be it. You don't have to tell me. But you're not off the hook, not by a longshot." You pulled away from him, giving him a chance to breathe normally once again. You gave a quick glance to the mirror to finally get a look at the dress you had adorned. It looked nice! But it came off as something you would wear in an office setting; not really your style. You looked back at Lucifer who was instantly frozen in place from your gaze.

"I'm not feeling this one," you remarked, "help me with the zipper?" You turned your back to him once more, feeling his hand tentatively grab the zipper. "You can only touch the dress, understand? I'm off limits."

"M-mhmm," Lucifer agreed. He behaved and only tugged the zipper down halfway until you could reach it yourself.

"Good boy."

You discarded the dress quickly, leaving you in only your lacy black bra and matching black panties. Lucifer forced himself to look away from you, trying to reach for the door handle.

"And where do you think you're going?," you asked coyly, stopping him in his tracks entirely.

“I umm, just uhh…giving you privacy?” He tentatively went for the handle again, but your arm shot out, keeping the door in its locked state.

“Oh, we’re way past decency here, Lucifer.” You maneuvered him away from the door and sat him down on the large white bench that was affixed to the wall. You leveraged your foot against the area just below his hip and rested one hand on the top of your thigh, the other on your hip. “Besides, you’re not really in any condition to be in the public view” leaning forward and shooting a quick glance down at his crotch, “now are you?”

Lucifer could only shake his head.

"Glad you agree," you smiled and pecked his lips, a pathetic little whine leaving Lucifer's throat. "I have a few more dresses to try on. You can look, but you cannot touch unless I say, alright?"

"Yes, love," he murmured obediently. You smiled and turned around to pick up the black dress you had let fall to the floor. You bent over slowly to pick it up, giving Lucifer a lovely view of your barely covered ass. You heard a deep inhale behind you followed by a shaky exhale.

You hung up the black dress and moved onto the next dress; a beautiful lavender colored Bardot dress with sleeves that hung off your shoulders. Luckily this one didn't have a zipper, you only needed to step in and shimmy it up your body. You adjusted your bra straps and hid them under the sleeves for the time being. You liked this one more than the last, you did as few twirls in front of the mirror checking every single angle.

"What do you think of this one, hon?," you asked, looking at his reflection in the mirror. It seemed as though he was gripping that bench with just a little too much force.

"Ravishing," Lucifer breathed. You had given him permission to look, and he was taking fully advantage of your generosity. He was chopping at the bit, fighting every urge to pounce right then and there. Lucifer's eyes were hungry, his lips curled into a smile to try and hide how badly he needed you at this moment. You admired his will power…but how strong was it truly? You made your way back towards him, chuckling playfully. Without warning, your knees found their way onto the bench, now fully straddling the mess of a man beneath you.

"W-what are you-mmph!" Lucifer tried to ask you but was cut short by your lips suddenly on his. You wrapped your arms around his neck and placed a small peck to his forehead.

"You always say just the right things, Luci," you cooed as you began to shift your hips against him. Hearing the mangled moans coming from Lucifer was nothing short of euphoric. You noticed he had released his grasp on the bench and began to move towards your hips. You gripped the back of his head, his hair firmly between your fingers, and tilted his head back gently. Lucifer grunted softly as you brought your lips to his neck. "Ah, ah, ah, what did I say, love? No touching," you scolded, now sucking and nibbling at his tender skin, desperately needing to mark him.

Lucifer whimpered and reluctantly brought his hands back to their original position on the frigid bench that paled in comparison to the feeling of your warm body that was pressed against him. "I-I can't do this f-for much longer, darling," he whimpered, "I can only h-handle- hnng, so much, I…ssshhhhhhiiittt-" Lucifer's hot breath became increasingly labored as you continued to rock your hips against his painfully growing bulge.

Just then, you heard the sound of a door closing. Someone had just entered the room next to you. With the threat of being heard now looming, you lifted yourself from his neck to see that Lucifer's eyes had turned an ominous red. It felt as if his slit black irises were staring straight into your soul, attempting to burn you from within. He was losing control fast. But you weren't done with him just yet. With a smirk, you placed a finger over his soft lips. "Shh," you whispered almost inaudibly, "you may want to keep your voice down from now on."

A low guttural growl erupted from Lucifer, not of anger, but of pure lust. His obedience hanging by the thinnest of threads as you removed yourself from his lap and stripped yourself of the purple dress. At this point, you couldn’t really care less about the dresses. This was much more entertaining.

The last dress you had grabbed was a form fitting strapless dress decorated entirely in ruby colored sequence with a long slit up the side. You held it against your body in the mirror, but something didn't look quiet right. But then in donned on you, and a devious thought had crossed your mind. You made your way over to Lucifer once more, noticing his claws were now digging into his thighs.

"Can you hold this for just a moment, dear?," you asked innocently. He looked up at you with his still crimson eyes, outstretching his hand silently. Once he was holding the garment, you reached around the back of your bra and unclasped it, letting it hit the floor with a soft thud. Lucifer's eyes became saucers, bunching up the dress in his hand with a clenched fist. Your soft and tender breasts were mere inches from his touch and yet he found he could only sit there motionless, writhing under each new temptation you threw at him.

"You…you are…" Lucifer began, finding it agonizingly difficult to steady his breathing.

You smiled and tugged the dress back from Lucifer's powerful grip. "The dress wouldn't look right with the bra on, silly! I should have brought one of my strapless ones, but oh well, live and learn!" You giggled to yourself and turned away from the fallen angel who's resolve was deteriorating with each passing moment. And with that final move, you had definitely won the game.

Or did you?

While you were mentally congratulating yourself on your perceived victory, you hadn't noticed that Lucifer had moved from his seated position, picking up every article of your clothing that you used to torment him. All you felt next was something wrap around your waist tightly. Was that…his tail?

"What the-AHH!," you tried to question, only to be pulled backwards through a portal that had been summoned, dropping the red dress in the process. The pale white dressing room vanished from sight and you were left standing in the middle of your bedroom. “Lucifer, why did you-" but you couldn’t finish your question. When you turned around, your lover was on his knees behind you, his demonic horns now on full display. He lifted his head, his eyes brimming with tears that threatened to fall at any moment. "Oh, Luci…"

"Please forgive me, I-I'm so sorry, my angel," he cried, "I know I've been acting strange all day and I know that you know I've been keeping something from you. I swear on my immortal life that I will tell you, but I'm begging you…" you kneeled down with him, cupping his face with your hand, "no more teasing. P-please…I-I need you…"

You gave him a loving smile and brought your lips to his. He melted from your touch, grabbing at your hand that held his cheek. "You know I love you, Lucifer," you breathed as you pulled away, "I'm sorry if I took things too far back there, I never want to upset you. You don't have to tell me anything if you're not ready to do so. I can wait. But first…" You stood from your kneeling position and offered him a hand up. The way his demonic form had taken over from just your teasing had you desperate for him beyond belief. Not that your previous bouts of teasing him hadn't worked you up already. You needed him too. Now.

You laid flat on you back against the soft sheets, beckoning him closer with a curl of your finger. Lucifer finally flashed you a toothy grin and in an instant, snapped his fingers, completely removing all of his clothing. Normally he liked to make a show of his undress, but you were both too far gone to care at this point. His tail swished behind him as he excitedly climbed up to join you in bed. He stared down at your crotch, licking his forked tongue across his lips. Without hesitation, he removed your panties and spread your legs apart, taking in the sight of your completely drenched pussy. He leaned down quickly and began to leave sloppy kisses and nips along your inner thighs before stopping right at your entrance.

You chuckled lightly at his eagerness to please you. "Luci, you know you don't have to do this. Especially not after what I put you through today."

Lucifer, in response, let two of his fingers slide against your folds, earning a hardy moan from you. "Trust me when I say this, darling," his voice was low, dripping with lust, "I will never deny either of us this pleasure." You felt his steamy breath against your womanhood as he looked up at you with half-lidded eyes, sending a shiver down your spine. "You may want to hold on, sweetheart."

Without another word, Lucifer ran his snake-like tongue against your cunt like a starved man. You arched your back in pure ecstasy, unable to focus on anything other than the way he was making you feel. He hooked his arms underneath your legs and brought you as close to his face as physically possible, digging his claws into your soft thighs and wrapping his tail around your calf. You realized what he had meant with his last statement and reached out to grip his devilish horns. Your grasp forced a moan out of him as he worked his tongue on your sensitive nub, circling it relentlessly. You knew how skilled he was with his mouth, but it never failed to awe you every time he used it. It wasn't long before you felt a different sensation, that of two clawed finger thrusting into you at a rapid pace.

"Lu-Lucifer, fuck, f-feels so good," you whimpered in between your heavy breaths, "right-SHIT… right there, d-don't stop, please don't stop!" Your pleas only fueled Lucifer’s hunger for you and his desire to make you come undone around him. His tongue and fingers worked in tandem, bringing you closer and closer to your release. Your knuckles were turning white with the amount of force you were using to hold onto his horns. You let one hand drop to tug at Lucifer's hair, another broken moan escaping him as you did. His fingers curled up into you, hitting your g spot repeatedly as his lips sucked on your clit with reckless abandon. That coil in your stomach was on the verge of snapping. "S-so close…gonna c-cum, fuckfuckFUCK LUCIFER!," was the last thing you could utter before your walls clenched around his fingers, feeling yourself pulsate with waves of pleasure. Lucifer helped you ride out your orgasm while lapping up every drop that escaped your body as if it was the nectar of the gods. Once your body finally relaxed, Lucifer removed himself from your thighs, your mess glistening off his chin. He flashed you a wicked grin before using his tongue to clean up the remains of your essence from his face.

The King of Hell crawled up the length of your body until he was hovered directly above you. "I can truly never have enough of you, my queen," he praised. Through your lustful haze, your barely rational mind latched onto what he'd just said. Queen?, you thought, he's never called me that before. Not that you minded in the slightest, you loved it, in fact. Regardless, you clearly weren't in any condition to question his choice of words. Not when you were desperate for his cock to be buried inside you already.

Lucifer caught your lips, his tongue begging for entrance, to which you happily obliged. You could still taste a faint amount of yourself on his lips as your tongues met in a fiery display of passion, twisting and fighting against each other as if trying to establish dominance of the other. You pulled his head closer as he devoured you, saliva dripping down the side of your mouth as his tongue explored every inch of your mouth. His tail refused to recoil as it kept its grip on your lower leg. His hard on pressed against your thigh and you were becoming increasingly impatient. You whimpering against him and bucked your hips up, essentially begging for him to take you completely.

“Please…” was the only word you could force out once you pulled away from his lips. Lucifer smiled, pressing his lips against your ear just as you had done to him earlier.

“Your heart’s desire is my command,” he cooed as you finally felt that familiar pressure between your thighs that you so desperately craved. You felt the head of his cock finally press into your sopping wet cunt, slowing inching himself into you he bottomed out inside of you. You moaned together, now feeling completely whole. Together as one again. Out of nowhere, Lucifer’s wings sprang out behind him once he was fully sheathed inside of you, adding a bright angelic glow to his otherwise hellish appearance.

He was beautiful.

He laughed awkwardly, a hard blush spreading across his face. You reached up and captured his lips once more. He hummed into you, folding his wings around you, completely blocking the outside world. In that perfect moment, the only thing that existed was you and him. After what felt like an eternity, Lucifer finally began to shift his hips, pulling himself out only to thrust right back into you. Slowly at first, relishing every single mewl and whimper you let escape your throat as he rutted into you. But it wasn’t long until his pace quickened, the sound of your slapping skin driving him to the brink. He rested his forehead against yours, refusing to look away from your loving gaze. You felt that coil in your stomach begin to clench once more, making it near impossible to form any coherent sentence, the pleasure his cock was providing was overwhelming you in the best way possible. He noticed this and brough his hand between you two and started circling your already overstimulated clit. You were not going to last much longer. And you could tell his composure was falling apart at the seams as well.

"Hng…fuck…me," Lucifer stammered, his breath hitching on every word "close…I'm close, g-gonna…c-ffffuuucckkk!" He resorted to latching his sharp teeth onto your shoulder, causing small patches of blood to flow out as he came, his hot seed painting your walls white. His wings twitched and spasmed when he finished inside you. His orgasm coupled with his hard thrusts and torturing of your sensitive nub pushed you over the edge for a second time, screaming his name as you clenched around his thick cock. Lucifer lapped up the blood he had drawn from you before he collapsed on top of you, his demonic form finally subsiding, as you both tried your best to catch your breath. You both laid there for a minute or two before even thinking about moving again. Besides, you loved the feeling of his full weight on top of you, it was comforting.

"Remind me to tease you more often," you joked, running your fingers through Lucifer's soft blond hair. He shot his head up and glared at you with a clear 'don't even think about it' look. "I'm kidding! Mostly…" Lucifer rolled his eyes playfully and planted a small peck to your lips. He finally found the strength to pull out of you and roll over onto his side, exhaling heavily.

"That…didn't really go as planned," Lucifer chuckled nervously. Up until now, you had completely forgotten what had even led up to this moment! You guessed you weren't getting a new dress after all, not that you minded, you had more than enough in your closet as it was. "What SHOULD have happened was you were going to pick out a new dress, I was going to take you out on a beautiful romantic candlelit dinner, and then I...I was…" he paused and gulped. "Oh, to hell with it!" He quickly sat up straight and turned to you, using both of his hand to grab onto yours. You sat up as well, your stomach filled with butterflies for a reason you weren't really sure of. "You were right, you know. I was keeping something from you. I am a very bad liar and I'm even worse at keeping secrets. Especially from you. You told me that I didn't have to tell you right now. But that was the problem! I was fighting with every fiber of my being to not tell you immediately! Because I love you with all of my heart and soul and I want to spend the rest of eternity with you by my side and...and..." he exhaled harshly. With a wave of his hand, a small black velvet box appeared. "My love," he opened the box to reveal a ring, "will you do me the incredible honor of becoming my bride?"

You looked down at the precious jewelry before you. A golden snake for the band, with its body wrapped around a beautiful ruby gem in the shape of an apple. Your eyes swelled with tears, you couldn't stop them from flowing down your face. Lucifer panicked and started to wipe them away.

"I-I'm sorry! Please...please don't cry! I didn't mean to-HMPH!" His apologies were cut short when your lips found his. After you pulled away, you laughed, tears refusing to stop. Lucifer's mouth was agape.

"Yes, Lucifer," you bawled, "yes yes yes, a million times yes! Of course I'll marry you, I've never wanted anything more!"

Lucifer sat there in disbelief. But only for a moment before joining you in your crying, wrapping his arms tightly around you, both of your sobs echoing throughout the room.

"You've made me the happiest person in all of Hell, my dear," he cried as he peppered kisses all over your face, clearing away more of your tears. "I love you, from now until the end of time. I promise to be the best husband I can possibly be."

"You're already the best person for me, my King," you smiled. "You don't have to change a thing. I love you, Lucifer Morningstar."

"And I you, Mrs. Morningstar."

~~~~

Congrats on becoming the new Queen(s) of Hell babes 😘

Taglist: @alastor-deer-demon @kermitdafroggy @thonethatflies620 @luc1fersducky @a-okay-rj @bat-boness @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis @misfitgirlwrites @animationmovieshipps @orbitinglumps @ramenkitten @blaackbiird @bigfatbimbo @lucisaspen @bvnnyangel @seulace9 (I'm sorry if I missed anyone!)

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer smut #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #my writing #IT'S DONE IT'S FUCKING DONE AHHHHHHHHH #beat my word could by a fucking 1000 words lmaooooo #enjoy!!

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teddybeartoji · 28 days

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THE LITTLE LAMB AND THE BIG BAD WOLF

on a hunt for supplies, you stumble across someone's belongings. a little bit of theft is fine, right? the cold barrel of a gun at your temple says otherwise.

☆. contains: toji fushiguro x gn!reader; apocalypse au; horror, detailed descriptions of blood and death, slow burn, crack, reader is simultaneously a scaredy-cat and a baddie, toji looks scary oh nooo

☆. word count: 6k

☆. note: the world is based on tlou!!! i am soooo into this fucking concept like i'm officially sucking my own dick here. tagging my beloveds @staryukis & @awearywritersworld bc omfg apocalypse ideas!!!!!! and also @dollsuguru @venusiansilk @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat @mossmurdock i love you guys so so much thank you for all your support<3333333

+ here's the masterlist

in a world so fucked up – it's easy to get lost in the darkness.

when the infection took over, everything changed. everything. people aren't people anymore – they've become hosts for a type of fungus known as the cordyceps. it grows all over the brain and takes control of the body, turning the person into something they're not.

if anyone were to ask you how many have you killed, infected or not, you'd be devoid of an answer.

it's hard to find your way when just about everything is out to get you. infected or not – there's always something ready to tear you into pieces, to sink their teeth into your soft flesh – that's just the way things are now.

but you're used to it. used to the feeling of adrenaline pumping in your veins as you run from a horde, used to the feeling of a blade at your throat, used to the feeling of a punch, of a slap. used to the constant grumble in your stomach, used to the sore legs and shoulders, used to cleaning off blood from yourself and your clothes, from your weapons. you're used to the gurgling and clicking, the crying and sobbing, the begging and pleading.

but no matter how much you tell yourself that you've grown used to the horrors of the new world, you cannot escape the anxiety that hides under every inch of your skin. it's always with you – holding your clammy hand as it drags you into the depths, into the shadows. you try to fight it but it's hard.

it's hard forcing away the only thing that holds you so tight, the only thing that truly cares for you. it's is a suffocating blanket that hides you from the cruelty of the world, trying its best to shelter you from it all. it's better to stay inside. it's better to stay away. they're going to hurt you. something is here. just stay here with me, under the warm blanket. they're coming. it's going to hurt. let's stay here forever.

don't you want it to stop?

being torn apart by the cold crippling fear and the warm rotting hands – it's getting harder and harder to breathe. but you've learned how to keep them at bay over the years; always in the line of sight, always on your mind. there's no rest for the wicked.

moonlight leads the way as you make your way to a shopping mall. the wind howls in your ears and sends a shiver down your spine. moss and ivy cover the walls of the massive building, swallowing it bit by bit, making it a part of the nature as the time passes.

the axe in your hand feels heavy, but right nonetheless. the handle is stained with blood; it has seeped deep into the wood and now acts as an extra weight to the blade. a small 9mm handgun sits pretty in the holster around your thigh, a knife hides in its leather sheath on your belt, a bow rests on your shoulder and a few arrows peek from your bag.

despite the armory, your bag hasn't been this empty in a while. the blame falls on a group of men you ran into a week or so back. precious ammo and resources were spent on the bastards, and while the blood reward was good - the lack of food and meds is now becoming concerning. your shoulder still hurts from the fall, a big dark bruise transforming your skin into a painting of the midnight sky.

you shake the flashlight on the strap of your backpack and listen to the batteries bounce around inside it. you give it a stronger shake and it turns on. the broken glass shines as you carefully step inside the big atrium and take a look around. your little light forces back the creeping shadows, now showcasing you the infected bodies that lay dead on the ground before you.

pools of blood conflux together and paint the tiles a dark shade of maroon; the ichor flows in between the cracks and disappears under the soles of your boots when you step further inside. they're fresh. light reflects off the liquid as you squat down to take a closer look. none of the three bodies seem to have bullet wounds – one of the runner has a slit throat while the other leaks from a hole in the side of the head and the clicker... it's head has been completely bashed in, making it hard to even recognize it as one.

beating up a clicker is not easy by any means; though the fungus growing on their face and head blinds them, it also acts almost like armor. they can take a bullet to the head and still keep coming – the call of death rippling through their body as they run at you, hands reaching out to grab, to pull, to hold.

the fact that they did this, either with their bare hands or some other blunt object, just means that they're good. it also begs the question whether they didn't have the bullets to spare or they simply decided not to use them. you just hope you won't bump into them.

standing up, you take another look around. a trail of bloody footsteps leads right up the escalators and you decide that you won't be going there yet. there are a few more bodies, two runners, sitting limp against the crumbling walls as you step down one of the hallways. the broken tiles and the glass cracks below your feet and you cringe at the noise.

never letting go of the axe in your hand, you stroll past the first stores seeing as they're completely ran through. with a sigh, you make your way over to one of the clothing stores. it's almost pitch black in there and you almost jump out of your skin when a mannequin suddenly falls at your feet. muttering out a row of whispered curses, you lower your axe with a shaky breath and adjust your flashlight. the shelves are pretty empty but that was expected; still, when you open up a cupboard door under one of the mannequin stands, you find a stack of perfectly fine sweatshirts. you check the other side of the piece of furniture and find... nothing. scoffing to yourself, you just bag the a sweatshirt and a pair of pants from another shelf before moving to the next store.

glass breaks and you hear shuffling – head whipping towards the sounds, fingers tightly gripping the axe, you take a step back and bump right into the shelf behind you. pieces of clothing fall onto the floor and a cloud of dust rises from the impact; you pay it no mind as your eyes are still glued to the counter, to where the noise came from, but when after a few second absolutely nothing jumps at you, you let your shoulders relax a little.

a stalker, maybe? but they don't tend to live in open spaces like malls, or so you think at least. the majority of them you've ran into in places like office floors and a fucked up basements – meaning they like to lurk everywhere where it's extra dark and where there are places to hide behind. yeah, they do that. little shits, taking cover behind desks and walls, playing a game of hide and seek that you never agreed to. you're never forgiving yourself for taking that wretched route.

you peek over the counter and look all around it but find jack shit. it's the darkness – it's what it does to you, to everybody. the shadows start to speak and move, the floors creak and crumble, and the growths on the wall whisper your name, no matter, how much you tell yourself that they aren't actually doing any of that that.

it's just the old building crying out from loneliness, the haunted ghosts simply looking for company as people pass by, as the infected pass by. you have to keep your head straight. faint blood marks stain the floor but it's too hard to tell whether those've been there for years or less.

you hastily knock on your flashlight when it begins to flicker, leaving you in the dark for just a blink but it's enough to have your heart thumping loudly in your ribcage.

making your way out of the store, you scour for your next location and ah-ha!

a pharmacy.

two bottles of antibiotics rattle in your bag but those aren't enough. you'll always need more of those, you'll always need more of gauze, painkillers, of everything – going in there is a must.

a metal roll-up door closed mid way is going to make this harder, but as if that isn't ominous enough – the quiet cries coming from behind it only makes the situation worse. a runner. but luckily, it isn't making too much noise and you make an educated guess of it not moving around. they do that when there's nothing to catch and tear apart, when nothing has caught their attention. they stay in random spots and whimper and cry to themselves. it makes them an easy prey.

the thought of the metal door sliding shut just as you're trying to pass under it, is making your stomach churn. and so is the thought of you making too much noise by accident and attracting the runner when you're still down on the ground. stop being a pussy. there could be emergency kits in there, pills, there could be a feast of medications in there and you're holding back. it's unacceptable.

you slowly kneel down to the cold floor and inhale sharply before lowering yourself further down. the only light in the room is yours and it immediately finds the twitching runner.

it is cowering in the corner.

you're just fucking glad they don't react to light as much as they do to noise, otherwise you'd be fucked already.

you crawl in the dust as quietly as you can, careful to not touch any of the furniture beside you that seems to be holding up the door. the last thing you'd want is to get locked in here. or get cut in half. you clench your teeth and push yourself up and to your knees the second you can do so and take a second, as you wait for him to turn around and lunge at you. but he doesn't. his back is still turned to you as he waits for you, sobs for you; his body trembling, hands folded in front of his chest – almost like he's hugging himself.

quietly holstering the axe, you pull out your knife instead. it's quieter. you grip the handle, fingers molding into the dents that have formed over time. another step and the light goes out. it's complete darkness. you hear your own heartbeat in your ears and the miserable cries of the infected just a few feet away. your eyes widen as you try to focus on your surroundings. your hands grow clammy in a matter of a few seconds and panic seeps into your body.

you shake the flashlight a few times and it turns back on. your breath is still stuck in your throat as you try to compose yourself. stupid old thing. the light paints the runner's shadow onto the wall in front of him, making it look like he's a part of some shadow play.

one more step and you're with him, a breath away. your hand goes around his chest, holding his hands and body in place as you sink your blade into his neck. it sinks into skin and flesh like butter, soaking you in the dark red ichor that hides underneath as he gurgles something at you (a thank you perhaps).

yanking the knife back out, the splattering ichor coats your skin and you immediately wipe it off against your shirt. his body falls with a thud! and another big dust cloud rises from the contact and your nose itches— it's— it itches— achoo!

your eyes are an inch away from escaping your head as you spin around, making sure that nothing is jumping at you for making a noise that loud. but surely enough, nothing seems to be interested. exhaling deeply, you rub your nose and force down the embarrassment that's crawling on your skin before starting your hunt for supplies.

it doesn't go as well as you'd hoped – only bagging a few stitching kits and a bottle of painkillers. better than nothing.

ecstatic to get the fuck out of a closed, pitch black room, you crawl back out from under the metal door and dust off your clothes.

strolling through some more stores, you're met with more dead infected. two clickers and two runners, no bullet holes. ignoring the corpses, you manage to find yourself a few nice t-shirts, a pack of boxers and a box of 9mm handgun ammo from under the cash register.

when you've gone through most of the wrecked stores on the first floor, you finally decide to take a look upstairs. the bloody footprints haven't left your mind but the fact that it's been so quiet, makes you think that maybe they did really just pass through here.

the moon light your way as you drag yourself up the escalator. the stars in the sky are barely visible because of the dirt on the ceiling window and you frown.

in front of you there are two hallways with stores on the sides and in the middle. the prints lead to the left side and towards the a lonely door at the end of the coridor; the signs on the walls don't indicate what room it might be – a security one, maybe? shaking your head, you focus on the stores ahead of you. the shop in the center is a big sports one; most of the mannequins have fallen over and their limbs are scattered all over the floor, pairless sneakers rest on top of each other and the shelves are a push away from collapsing into tiny little pieces.

stepping over the bloody clothes, you view the baseball caps on the rack when your light goes out again. you feed on the faint moonlight that's coming from the hallways as you scramble to shake the thing again. steps, you swear you heard steps. the last standing mannequins stare at you from the shadows, laughing at your misfortune. a hand touches your hip and you can't hold back the yelp that slips from your lips. you turn and bump into another statue. the light flickers three times before it actually turns on and you find yourself inches from an eerie smile. intinctively, you give it a firm push as you take a step back, hands shaking as the panic settles down once more.

no one else is here. you can't see whoever could've made the noise and by now you're sure that if something or someone is really hiding in the dark – it would've already made a move if it wanted to. stalkers don't play for that long and neither do humans.

a row of protein bars hide in a drawer in the staff room of the store and you happily throw them in your bag, along with some weird looking granola bars.

the right side of the second floor only offers you a new lighter, three pairs of socks, a can of soda, a simple necklace and a broken watch. what's the point of it if you can't tell time? it looks cool. no other reason.

heading over to the left side of the building, you keep a keen eye on the door. the remaining shops are forgotten the closer you get to where the prints lead and you officially commit to checking out the place.

the blade of your axe shines in the moonlight, your steps extra light as you creep up on the door. readying your weapon, you press down on the handle and quietly push it open. it swings all the way and thumps against the wall. the room is lit up, the windows letting in the natural light. you're greeted with rows of computer and tv screens on the tables, three black duffel bags and some lockers and cabinets next to the walls.

you check the corners of the room and let out a relieved sigh when you don't find anything hiding. closing the door, you carefully step around the broken glass on the floor. it seems to be originating from what used to be a glass case showcasing various medals. awards for the best security guards. how silly that sounds now.

the lockers have been cleared out, the only things left behind being two lovely couple's phots with hand-drawn hearts above their heads. you leave them there. the cabinets don't have anything good either. you glance back at the door for good measure before kneeling down in front of one of the bags on the ground. you pull the zipper and are met with treasure – multiple bars of chocolate, the same sweatshirt you found from the floor below, various cans of canned food, two water bottles and a small knife.

your eyes glint and the corners of your lips twitch upward, your body has a mind of its own as it immediately reaches for the chocolate. glass breaks and your eyes flick to the now ajar door as you reach for the gun on your thigh but when you feel the cold metal of a gun barrel resting against your temple... you freeze.

"don't."

...

your stomach drops, eyes glued to the bag in front of you. the voice is deep and it's rasp, confident and sure of himself; the metal against you doesn't move, it doesn't shake.

you hold your trembling hands out, fingers spread to show that you don't have any intention of grabbing your weapons. a deep breath in and a deep one out. you try to turn your head towards him but he just presses the gun deeper into your skin, forcing your gaze right back down.

his big stature looms over your smaller one and you feel like an ant that's about to be stepped on. he lets you soak in the threatening silence, the only sound being your own racing heartbeat.

"s'rude to steal, y'know."

the man doesn't sound angry, he doesn't sound mad or upset. he sounds... annoyed, if anything.

"i asked you a question."

shit.

"i– i wasn't stealing." you stammer out.

he scoffs. "wasn't stealing? just fondling my shit for fun then?"

the teasing tone makes your eyebrows furrow and you try to turn to look at him again, your body slightly raising from your knees but the gun on your head keeps you down. funny, how heavy a piece of metal can suddenly feel.

"it was empty in here! i didn't know these belonged to anyone! i–i'm sorry! i'll leave, i'll leave!" it's a pathetic slur of words accompanied by a pleading tone and you hope that it'll do the trick.

there are strategies for dealing with people and this is simply one of them.

and it does work because the next thing you know, he's lowering the weapon. you let out a shaky breath before turning to him and fuck.

he's... terrifying.

towering over your kneeling body, he's massive. big chest and broad shoulders, he looks like he could snap your neck with his bare hands. the moonlight is only making him more menacing – his dark hair falls in front of his eyes as he stares down at you; there's a scar on his lips and streaks of blood cover his skin, from his cheek to his jaw and down his neck.

dark clothes and a dark jacket – he looks like he belongs in the shadows. the fact that you didn't hear him until it was already too late is making your skin crawl. he probably only let you hear him. for the fun of it.

the terrified look on other's faces can be addicting. the big eyes and the wobbling lips; how they shake and beg – you're no stranger to it, you've had your moments, too.

other than the gun in his hand, there's a second one holstered around his big thigh just like you do. a serrated knife sits his belt and it keeps winking at you, the flashlight reflecting from it as you pull in big breaths of air.

"you're saying i oughta just let you go?" he scoffs, yanking you from your thoughts.

"please..." your stomach grumbles on cue, helping you look meeker than you really are.

you're sure you just saw him wince as he squats down beside you but the thought is brushed away immediately when the man cocks his head to the side and scratches his temple with the barrel of the gun. his scarred lips stretch into a big wolfish grin, showing off his sharp canines and his eyes glint from behind the black strands of hair, making him even scarier now. the big bad wolf.

he's taking you apart with his eyes, dissecting you and your thoughts with a smug expression while you're fending off the waves of fear and try to look as composed as you can. though you feel like it isn't working at all.

"d'ya find anything good from the pharmacy?"

"why were you stalking me?" your bark comes out sharper than you intended and his eyebrows raise an inch, eyes shining with something teasing.

"kind of hard to miss ya when you're making so much noise, sweetheart. and yer in my spot, anyway." he sigh with an eye-roll.

your lips part in a small gasp. "i was not making that much noise! and– and what do you mean 'your spot'? it's a fucking mall, i need things, too!"

"clearly." he motions to the duffel bag resting at your feet and you swallow your next snarky comment.

"sorry."

"what was that?"

just glaring at him, you hate how amused he seems. the fear in you dissipating fast and something akin to annoyance is starting to grow in it's stead.

"i didn't even fucking take anything!"

body leaning forward, fists balled up and eyes on fire – he's thoroughly entertained by your barking and you immediately purse your lips.

"relax, little lamb, will ya? tell me... what'd you find in there?"

you scrunch your nose at the stupid nickname. despite how non-threatening he's being right now - you're still planning on running. you'll give him whatever he wants and you're getting the fuck out of here.

"nothing much. stitching kits and painkillers."

he's hums disappointedly and you can't help but wonder why. is he looking for something in particular? is he hurt? "what do you need?"

"forget it."

"i have antibiotics, if that's what you need."

at that, his ears perk up. "is that so?"

you nod at him.

"well, c'mon then, show me what ya got."

you stare at him for a moment before peeling off one backpack strap. you pull the bag onto your lap and feel his heavy gaze on you as you dig around the thing. it doesn't take you long to find the right bottle, pulling it out and handing it to him.

the floor creaks and it has you both turning towards the sound in an instant. he has the door in his sights but nothing is there. your heart is hammering in your chest again and you can taste the bitter anxiety in the back of your throat again.

you've never seen anyone hold their gun so steady as he does. no shake, no tremble; he's not even really squeezing the thing, he's just holding it. there's no pressure, no anxiety – it's simply an extension to his body. he's comfortable with it, and he looks good with it. a bead of sweat rolls from his temple and mixes with the drying blood on his skin before disappearing under his clothes.

his breathing is normal, he's calm as he lowers the gun back down and starts observing the bottle in his other hand. your eyes are still on the door, still wary of the ghosts that lurk around.

the man squints his eyes at the miniature text on the bottle in the dark and you hold back a laugh.

"need me to read it for you, old man?"

"watch your mouth." it's playful at best, no real sternness behind it whatsoever and it makes you roll your eyes. you're about to ask what he actually needs the pills for but something in the corner of your eye draws your attention.

a pair of dull, grey eyes. staring right back at you. dark veins run all over her face and neck, her shoulders and her hands and she peeks from behind the doorframe.

one second. no more, no less. your sharp intake of air gets his attention just as the stalker lunges from the dark hallway, but she is met with a hole in her forehead before she can even take a proper step inside.

small pieces of brain splatter onto the wall behind her and she falls limp to the ground just a few feet from you. he's waiting for another one to pop up, his eyes still glued to the door and you know that this is your moment. he has the meds, so he shouldn't chase you down anyway. you have to go now.

scrambling up from your knees, you try to speed past him but immediately choke when the collar of your own sweatshirt sharply cuts into your airways. his grip on the material is strong and he pulls you right back into him, back into his arms. he's mere inches from your face but before he can do anything else – he feels a blade against his throat.

you really aren't the little lamb he thought you were.

he's comparing you to a feral cub in his head – big wild eyes, snarling and showing your teeth, trying to act tougher than you are, but when the sharp edge of your blade sinks deeper into his skin, he realizes that maybe you're not actually in over your head.

he already expected you to run, he was waiting for that but he thought it'd end up with you you crying and begging or something. he didn't see this coming – you're definitely craftier than he thought, faster too.

"now... why would you do that-"

you don't let him finish. "are you gonna hurt me?"

"you're the one with the knife at my throat. i should be asking you that." he rolls his eyes as your knife grazes the soft skin below his adam's apple and you're thinking about actually cutting him just out of annoyance.

"you have the pills, why not let me go?" you bark back.

"you're hungry, aren't ya?" he questions calmly. his gun hand is lowered, he's not pointing it at you but his other hand stays on your back, fingers still digging into your sweatshirt. it's warm, his body is warm.

"so what? you gonna feed me like some stray cat?"

"y'don't want to eat?" he deadpans.

...

you bite into the soft flesh of your inner cheek. of fucking course, you want to eat.

"y'can take two cans from the bag. i mean, y'were eyeing them anyway."

"why?"

"for being my entertainment tonight."

the blade on his throat finally draws blood and a drop of it runs down his skin, disappearing under his shirt.

"i oughta kill you for putting a gun at my head."

"yeah?" he cocks his head closer to you, the blade moving with him, making a few more droplets dribble from the tiny wound. "go for it, sweetheart."

his eyes are green. they're green like the leaves that sprout from between the cracks in the asphalt on a sunny day, green like the moss that flourishes on the trees in the forest, green like the ivy that is trying to swallow the world. you feel his heart beat a; calm and steady while yours is amped from the sudden proximity. he sounds so arrogant, like he knows you're not going to hurt him.

(you aren't.)

when you lower the knife to push at his broad chest with a scoff instead, he lets you. his hand falls from you as you take a step back, your face now illuminated by the moonlight. scars litter your skin, bumps and cuts – just like him.

"are you done?"

you hum with a pouty lip and put away your knife, eyes following his figure as he holsters his gun before picking up the fallen pill bottle. when he steps by you, he plucks your flashlight from its place on the backpack strap with way too much ease and proceeds to head over to one of the duffel bags that sits on the table behind you, carefully stepping over the broken glass on the floor.

"hey!"

he shushes you and your fists tighten beside your body. you look at the dead body that lays next to the door with a perfectly centered hole in her forehead. the blood pools around it, soaking her clothes and the ground below her.

you used to think about the infected more, used to ponder about how long they've been like that and whether the person they used to be is still... in there.

it doesn't matter.

you've come across people, who talk about not wanting to kill them – what if they really are still in there? but isn't that exactly why one should kill them? you can't even begin to think about how it'd feel to be stuck inside your own body as the infection takes over, making you into something you're not. how it'd force you to tear your loved ones apart just for the sake of it, how you'd turn into a bigger monster with every passing day, every passing second. you just hope that if you were to get infected, you'd still have the mind to end it. or have somebody do it for you.

you don't want to end up like her.

"i didn't realize there were stalkers here." you mumble to yourself as you tear your eyes from her. "other than you, of course. fucking creep."

he starts digging around in one of the bags and you take the moment to really observe him. his back is almost twice your size and you're sure his one bicep is bigger than your whole head.

the man scoffs. "thought i got them all but... oh, well. should've let ya handle it – was your fault anyway."

"how the fuck was that my fault?" your voice raises at his claim and you regret it, knowing exactly what his response will be.

"you are fucking loud, sweetheart."

"fuck you."

he just hums out a mhmmm. he pulls a piece of paper out of his bag and uses your flashlight to examine the text on it. his eyes. he waves at you over his shoulder. "you know where the cans are."

simply scoffing as a reply, you kneel back down to the bag but his voice cuts in again.

"and don't you dare take that chocolate." he doesn't even turn around, completely focused on comparing the information on the paper to the info on the bottle of pills. you roll your eyes again and curse him under your breath. "i wasn't gonna take your stupid fucking chocolate..."

when you've bagged your goodies, you push yourself up again. the trees dancing in the wind outside catch your eye, they look so carefree. just living from the sun and the moon and the rain, they have nothing to fear. nobody will harm them, no infected, no people. you can't wait for nature to take back everything it deserves. the cities and the buildings; it'll swallow the corpses and the living alike and you're happy for her.

he rustles with the paper, twisting it around a few times and you're about to ask what he's looking for but he cuts you off.

"why not make a run for it earlier?"

you stare at his back with a confused look. "what do you mean?"

"you gave me the pills and then tried to run. antibiotics are hard to find, y'know." he sounds curious. or patronizing.

"i know that... i had to wait for the right moment." you admit, fiddling with your fingers. "i was going to give them to you anyway, old man."

"not a lot going on in that little head of yours, huh?"

...

you let his audacity waft over you before biting back. "oh, i'm sorry... for... being a... good person?"

he turns around and leans his ass against the table, folding his arms over his big chest as he mocks you with his annoying smug grin. "i pointed a gun at you and you still wanna share your little precious belongs with me? that's cute, i guess."

"yeah. you just look like you fucking need them, alright...."

"so, you agree that you're a fucking idiot?"

your lips part in shock. "hey! look– do you want anything else or can i go now?"

"can i have my flashlight back?"

"no."

"wha— " you take a step toward the man and he raises his brows. "but it's mine! how do you expect me to go outside without it?"

"no manners whatsoever."

huh?

your jaw drops again. "excuse me? wha– what's that supposed to mean?"

"first, i catch you stealing— "

"i already apologized for that— "

"—then you try to kill poor old little me, and now you're asking for things without the magic word... tsk-tsk-tsk." he closes his eyes and shakes his head in disappointment.

"i'm not gonna fucking beg for my own flashlight back, bitch."

...

he barks out a laugh.

a loud one, from deep within his stomach. his head falls back and a pout forms on your lips, heat crawls up your neck involuntarily and you avert your gaze. "you're terrible, just terrible, sweetheart."

he takes your prized light and tosses it to you before pulling out his own from behind his back. you flip him off. "funny though, i'll give ya that..."

you grumble a yeah, thanks under your breath as he blinks the light at you twice. "may i go now?"

he stares at you before answering. "yes, you're dismissed."

at that, you knock your heels together and sharply bring your right hand to your temple – imitating a military salutation. "yes, sir!"

something sweet.

he tastes something sweet on his tongue. he wipes the drying blood from his neck and his cheeks hurt.

you're some random feral cub and yet, you've peaked his interest like nothing else. no cries and no wails, no begging and no tears – scared but alive. ready to part with valuable meds just because he apparently looks like he needs them. tch! growling at him even though he's caught you red handed, cutting him even though you weren't in danger anymore.

he hasn't felt this alive in a long time, either.

"don't let me see you again, old man."

playful, at best. you're matching his tone and the corners of his lips are reaching back behind his ears. you bite your inner cheek; despite everything – he's the most normal person you've met since the end of the world. he's not mean nor is he aggressive; everybody points a gun at a stranger these days. he made jokes and he gave you supplies – it's more than anyone has done for you in a while.

you look at the wolf in the shadow and he looks at the lamb in the moonlight. the wolf that offers food and protection and the lamb that cuts and steals.

the wolf that bleeds and the lamb that holds the blade.

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