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chibsandchill · 3 months

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See me

Fandom: Saltburn

Pairing: Felix x AFAB!Reader

Summary: Each room in Saltburn is bursting at the seam with memories with you, and Felix remembers some of his favorite moments as he makes his way to his prize.

Warnings: Felix, Mentions and descriptions of acts of violence and murder, NSFW content, MDNI, 18+, unreliable narrator (Felix), toxic relationship, obsessive tendencies, grammatical and spelling errors, p in v sex, oral sex (m receiving), Felix is a creep, themes of violence - self-harm and equivalent themes are prevalent through the imagine, some parts of their dynamic takes inspiration from Hannigram but with my spin on obsession

I am not responsible for your media consumption. Read the tags.

MDNI

Masterlist

:-:-:-:-:-:-:

It’s a cloudy day when Felix first saw you,

but with you came the sun,

warmth, empathy, love.

Oh, how he loved your heart. But, oh, how careless you were with it. It was a gift,

one meant for him,

from you.

Then why did you waste it on those beneath you? You chipped away at it to mend sobbing students, tore at it until it bled and thick scars rose like mountains. You took on their pain with a blindingly bright smile,

only Felix saw how their burdens weighed you down.

The sun was meant to warm, to burn from far away,

but they tore you down from your place in the sky so that they might leech your warmth until you are left barren. Their sorrows were cold as ice against you.

They stole you from him. Piece by piece they ripped at you with filthy nails. You became known on campus as someone who’d listen. Who wouldn’t judge. How could you when you felt their problems as if they were your own? The more they spoke those words dripping with poison, the more they tainted the very blood in your veins with their darkness.

‘Walk in their shoes’.

You didn’t need to. You could walk in their skin, feel their emotions as if they were yours. Heartbreak plagued you, sorrow fell on you like an ever present shadow. The death of a family not yours turned your face gray and your eyes misty.

Until Felix put a stop to it all. How could he stand by and watch it happen? The slow destruction of a bright star, who burned so bright that all envied it.

Jenny from history of art, Carl from math, Robert from physics, Matilda from psychology, Caroline, Jeremy, Han, Thomas, Harry, Derek, Henry, Linda, Nico, Mark, John, Hans, William, Frederic. All turned away at your door.

“Yes, I’ll tell her.”

“I’ll let her know.”

“Sure thing, buddy.”

Oh, how they believed his lies. Sweet, sweet, Felix Catton wouldn’t lie to them. Surely not.

But lie, he did. It spewed from his lips like honey. All to have his sun beam at him again. To wash away the taint of the others from your skin, your heart, your eyes. He would have you look at him with soft, relaxed eyes.

Him. Him. Him. Him.

Your protector. Even if you didn’t know it yet.

“Felix.”

He hummed.

Your eyes are heavy with sleep when you look up at him, but the affection is hard to miss. It makes you glow. Felix curled his arm further around you, bringing you closer to him. But even then it is not close enough. He aches. It’s a want deeper than skin, deeper than bones or even his soul. It was as if his very being was made of want, of longing so intense he was blinded by it. If God was indeed real then he had created Felix with a thread laced with obsession, with love transcending all else.

Even thinking about you made his heart race, pound.

“Can I braid your hair?”

“‘Course.” He said against your skin.

As if you needed to ask. All of him was yours.

You try to sit up but Felix isn’t ready to break the contact yet. He feels like a battery, no matter how bizarre a comparison it is, constantly needing to be recharged so that he might survive when you part. He’s constantly cold without you, he feels empty; hollow. His hands are too light with the lack of you, he breathes too easy without the weight of you on his chest. If he could he’d carve his heart out so that you could carry it with you, for that was how he felt anyway. He’d gouge himself hollow so that he could fit you inside. Never to be parted again, joined together by shared blood, flesh and bone.

It’s not easy with his hold on you, but you manage to shift so that you sit in his lap instead. It’s not ideal if you mean to truly braid his hair but Felix won’t complain. He pushed his head into your touch when your fingers hover over him.

“Patience.” You half-heartedly scold him.

Your fingers weave through his hair, nails scratching just right against his scalp. With deft hands you untangle the mess you’d created during the night. There’s not much to braid but more than enough for you to wrap around your fingers and tug. The action pulls a low groan from his throat.

He grabs your hips. Felix wonders if you’ve noticed how he’s caged you in. You probably don’t, as sweet and trusting a being as you surely wouldn’t peel back his layers to gasp at the thriving darkness beneath. With you he was his truest self. Could you see him? Would you run if he were to cast off the layers? Let you see him?

Maybe you already could. You had seen the others. Even the empty ones, the ones who had gouged themselves hollow and shoved the essence of what they thought he wanted until it spilled from every hole in their body.

Felix wasn’t hollow. He was bursting at the seams with life, same as you. And yet you stayed. Surely you knew. You had to. You and he were one. Two pieces of a whole finally reunited.

He breaths in your scent, noses along your throat before allowing his head to rest in the crook of your neck. There’s a bruise there hidden on your shoulder blade. Late one night when you’d already fallen asleep he mouthed it into your skin with the moon as his witness,

only,

it had started to fade.

He’d have to do it again. Closer. Marking you under the cover of darkness wasn’t enough anymore. An unspoken claim didn’t satisfy him anymore. It wasn’t enough. He was beginning to think it never would be. He could bruise every inch of your skin with his love and his skin would still itch to do more – to prove himself more to you.

Just as his hands slide down to rest on the curve of your ass the scene slips through his fingers like sand.

He blinks it away. He’s standing in the driveway of Saltburn. Your favorite statue is left in shambles on the gravel with his blood splattered across the white marble.

“What the fuck.” Felix’s hand shakes and burns with pain. His knuckles are split open.

It had been a slip of a thought he had once when you first came to Saltburn and you’d taken to leaning on the statues, the furniture, walls, pillars. He’d wanted them all gone. He’d be your pillar. He wouldn’t crumble with age, would never make you think they stood strong only for the core to be riddled with holes from pests.

Felix was whole and strong, had made himself such,

for you.

He’d burnt the tendrils of influence his mother had dug into him since childhood. Torn the threads of her darkness right out of the tapestry. Oh, how she cried when she noticed. ‘Felix,’ she’d whispered, a rare show of emotion plastered across her face, ‘what have you done?’.

She shouldn’t have worried about what he had done. No, she should’ve worried about what he was going to do.

He watched you for weeks before approaching you. He noticed what made you laugh, what made you smile, frown, scowl. And so he took that too. Cut out the parts of himself that would drop the smile from your face and sewed on the parts that he lacked until he was left a patch-work version of perfecting befitting a Mary Shelley novel. Pus and blood seeped from the stitches. The sight was unseemly. So he waited until he’d perfected himself, until the stolen was assimilated, until it was like another Felix had never existed.

Felix throws the heavy doors open and the maids scurry away from his sight.

Duncan emerges from the pack. Even after all he’d seen, his adoration for Felix remained. “Welcome back, Felix.”

He nods.

And then he’s off.

The route he takes is reminiscent of your first tour of the mansion. He’s even nodding along as if hearing himself introduce it all. The staircase where he “fingered” his cousin. As if. Your face had reddened with equal parts jealousy and sheer disbelief of ‘what the fuck’.

One of the smaller sitting rooms. The green one. He fucking hates that room. But you love it. He went down on you for the first time there. Right on the couch with his granny’s ghost knocking down a shelf of antique plates over his head. The blood had driven you crazy.

The thought alone made him hard.

But this was also the first room you’d held him properly in. He’d been crying.

“What's wrong?” You ask when he threw the door open.

You’d been doing some summer reading for uni, but your fingers clutched the opening pages with strength that betrayed your pounding headache.

“Fucking Ollie.”

Your brows furrow “Oliver?”

Felix lay down on the couch with his head in your lap. You smell good. And you’re soft.

“Yeah.” He sigh. “He was lying to us this whole time. Turns out poor Oliver Quick has both a dad and mum who loves him. Even siblings! They live in a lovely house in a picture perfect neighborhood.”

‘I just need you to understand how much I fucking love you!’

As if there was even a sliver of Felix that didn’t belong to you, that didn’t scream out for you every second you were apart. Had Oliver not been paying attention? Could he not see the need that permated him? It ran so deep, was so all-consuming that he couldn’t contain it all. He breathed desire, cried longing, even fucking pissed envy. Envy even over the very air you breathed, the clothing that hugged you, the sheets for the audacity to imply he wasn’t enough to keep you warm.

You hum as your fingers drift down to cup his face.

“He was in love with me.”

“Isn’t everyone?” You joke.

Felix’s eyes opened (he hadn’t realized he closed them). “You love me?”

“Of course.” You trace a scar on his cheekbone.

“Say it.”

“I love you, Felix.”

Even that memory fades, but your words linger.

I love you, Felix.

You always linger. Your kisses burn his skin and he wishes it left a scar so that he could look upon it and relive it all.

The green room is abandoned quickly, and he’s off.

“A blue room!” You exclaim, and to Felix’s displeasure you let go of him to take it all in.

“Yeah. It’s… blue.”

“What? No ghosts? No artifacts?”

Felix shakes his head. “Nope. Just blue.”

Felix sees himself leaning against the door while you spin around the room. It’s like a movie, almost. Only it’s his memories and he can remember every second he’s ever spent in your presence. Including this one. And the next one.

The one where you’re on your knees.

You’re pressing soft kisses to the tip of his cock, pressing your love into every inch of skin you can find as if you wanted to stay there, to have your love replace the tar that ran through his veins.

It’s odd. He can almost feel the tingles left by your touch, but he’s untouched. Felix’s hands form fists at the sight. Was it possible to be jealous even of himself? The envy boiling in his stomach certainly said so. He would not share you even with himself.

Felix strides forward and sinks into the place his past self sits. He unbuckles his jeans and frees his cock from his underwear. If he were not so deep in madness he might’ve felt the cold of the room, but he was, and so he felt the warmth of your hands, the wetness of your mouth as you wrap your lips around his tip.

He moans. He didn’t know what he liked the most about it. The vulnerability, the act itself, your presence, or that it left you with a part of him inside you. You’d kneel in front of him for as long as it took, but Felix would not have you be uncomfortable and so he slid a pillow under your knees.

Your hands cup his balls. He twitches. You take more of him into you. It feels like heaven to have you wrap yourself around him. Wet, warm, silky heaven. All for him.

Him. Him. Him. Him. His.

You moan around him. It sends vibrations straight through him. It pulls a low groan straight from his chest, one that makes you moan. His pleasure is your pleasure, and your pleasure is his, and so the circle begins.

His eyes roll into the back of his head when you begin bobbing your head up and down. You slurp. Electricity runs down his spine. It’s wet. Sloppy. Saliva drips down your mouth as you press your nose into his abdomen.

Someone drops a plate somewhere in the house and the spell is broken. Not unlike a reflection in a lake is the memory distorted, wrong. You’re on your knees without the pillow. He’s standing above you, not sitting. Your knees are bruised and bleeding. You’re crying.

Some small part of him, one that he’d allowed to fester for far too long, enjoys the scene. Enjoys the submission, thrives in the knowledge that it is not only he that longs and wants and would press and press until nothing remains if only to bring you a sliver of happiness. You smile around his cock. It’s not the pain that brings you to tears.

This isn’t right. This isn’t him. It’s Elspeth messing with his head. It’s Oliver whispering his lies in his ear.

He wants to vomit. Why would they punish him so? To make him see you hurt,

to force him to see himself hurt you, brutalize you,

humiliate you.

Why, when he adored you, worshiped you. If there was a puddle he’d lay himself down to let you walk over him. He’d drown himself so that you would not have to dirty yourself. Like a tumor he’d performed surgery after surgery to remove what you didn’t like.

And you did the same.

The image is restored, but he’s already on his feet.

He would wait no longer.

Felix runs up the stairs but is forced to a halt by the moans coming from the king’s bedroom. Another memory? The door is already open.

“Tell me your vows again.”

You’ve got your legs up in the air behind you, head resting in your hands as you stare at him.

“Dear,” Felix turns around from where he stood by the window. Your name sounds like prayer on his lips. “I’ve never been alone. People have flocked to me since before I can remember. But they didn’t see me. But you… you, I let you see me. It’s a rare gift. And it’s one that I’ve never regretted giving you. I’ve never felt more loved than in your arms. Do I need to continue, Mrs Catton?”

You laugh.

“Come to bed, Felix.”

The memory changes before he can enjoy the sight of you in your wedding dress. The happiest day of his life. Gone in a blink.

You’re no longer on the bed. You’re in his arms, crying yet again. There’s blood on his shirt. No finger graces your finger. Felix closes his eyes. He knows this memory. KNows very well what he’d have to endure to get back to you.

“Y-you killed him!” You shudder.

Felix shushes you. “There was no other way.”

“There’s always another way.”

“Not this time."

Truly, there wasn’t. You saw much, but Oliver was so good at pretending to be someone else that he even fooled himself into believing his own lies. And so, you thought nothing of it when Oliver offered you his bottle of wine. Had no idea of the drugs that he’d shoved in there.

“Are you scared of me?” Felix asks you. His voice shakes. He remembers his own fear, how his stomach churned. He could write a thousand words and not even chip at the surface of the emotions he felt. A thrill at the thought of you finally seeing the deepest deepest parts of him? Disgust that he’d slipped and revealed a crack in his mask? Such fear that it clung to his very bones, stopped his lungs from working and had his own eyes water with tears? All true. And yet all of them are false. There wasn’t a single emotion he could place, they all blended together to form a concoction of heart-wrenching pain and fear.

The memory fades away. He doesn’t remember the rest. All he remembers is how it ended.

The headboard bangs against the wall with the force of his thrusts. His hands are cradling your face, kissing away the tears of pleasure. You push your legs up higher on his back where you’ve hitched them, your own hands pressing against his own face to bring him closer. He’s inside you but he’s not close enough.

Felix leans down to cover your whole body with his. You squeak at the change.

“Oh god,” you throw your head back with a moan.

He moves a deft finger down to press down on your clit. He experimented with pressure, directions, even spelled out his own name with your pleasure. Felix feels as though he’s on fire, but still he wants more. He wants to be closer. Closer. Closer. Closer.

You clench around his cock, and he stutters.

The love in your eyes makes him falter, before he drives into you faster than before. The bed squeaks, one hard thrust away from breaking. Fitting. So is he. Your right hand moved up his cheekbone, past his ear and to the back of his head. Your touch is gentle, barely-there pressure as you guide him down to slant your mouth over his. His heart aches with love, adoration, you. You’ve made it your home.

Yet again he is denied release as the memory is gone. The room is empty.

“Fuck.”

It’s not graceful the way he stalks out of the room. No more interruptions, he thinks.

The last door in the corridor. Yours. And his. Your marital chambers, as Duncan would call it. Old fashioned bastard.

He pushes it open without as much as a knock. And there you are.

“Felix!” You cross the room in seconds and then you’ve thrown yourself in his arms. “We missed you!”

Your rounded stomach presses into him. He rests his forehead on yours, pressing long, soft kisses against your lips, even as you giggle and try to move away. When you do, he chases after you. He’s not done. Never done.

His legs feel like jelly, his soul is on fire,

but he finally found you.

In a house full of memories and vengeful ghosts he found you.

And you saw him, as you always do, and he’s tugged back into bed with the comforting weight of you pressing him down into the mattress.

And he’s almost content.

Almost.

Taglist:

@fedyascoffin

#felix catton x reader #felix catton #felix catton x you #saltburn imagine #saltburn smut #saltburn x reader #saltburn #felix catton smut #felix catton imagine

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yourstrulyrika · 4 months

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just a short smut fic about Leon bc I have history tomorrow and I am about to explode i need to get my mind off of it!! no thoughts about history just Leon !!!

warnings: none! just pure smut with fem!reader

topic: thigh worship bc!! thighs!! i love thighs!! chubby skinny thin toned soft thick IDC i love thighs. so does leon he told me that himself !!!!! Leon Kennedy loves eating you out thats it thats the plot

Leon is a sucker for thighs. He loves thighs. Worships thighs. Could spend hours on your thighs, sleeping on them, kissing them,

but his favorite thing is being between your thighs <3

Leon is a messy eater. You found that long time ago. No matter his mood or energy level — it always ends up messy. Now, Leon has his beloved way of eating you out.

Face sitting

When Leon proposed this idea at first, he was a bit shy, just a bit. His first words were “suffocating between your thighs would be a way to go I wouldn’t complain about.” with that smirk of his. Took a bit to actually get you to sit on him like he’s a damn chair, ended up with him pulling you all the way down, but you’re sitting, so that’s what matters!

When you sat on his face, he thought he’s in heaven. Grows pussydrunk so fast, doesn’t care about his thick cock throbbing in his pants, growls when you try to touch it because why aren’t you focusing on his tongue !! (he ends up cumming in his pants in the end btw)

Slurps, sucks, kisses, nibbles — he LOVES (your) pussy. Leon is a (your) pussy lover. He moans like a damn whore when you grind against him. Sometimes he wraps his hands around your thighs to make you grind against him, eating you so passionately he forgets about the world outside <3 He just loves being used by you!! that’s his life dream!!

“That’s it baby, best pussy in the whole world, lovin’ it s’ much, god,” the crack in his voice is just.. chefs kiss. Sometimes it feels like Leon talks to your pussy instead to you, but you know he loves you as much !!

He doesn’t stop even when you cum, he has to pull out at least two orgasms out of you before he even considers letting you go.

“Cmon.. baby, just one more, know you can do it,” He mumbles between the sucks. He says it for the third time today. You end up completely fucked dumb by his tongue <3 But when he finally stops, he always ends the session with a small press to your clit,

“Sorry baby, not my fault you taste too good.”

Obviously the session doesn’t end there though. Now it’s his time. But not before he presses soft, loving kisses to your thighs, marking them up, gripping them so possessively but still gently. When he’s satisfied with the sight, he finally takes his pants off and lets his cock spring out, hard and leaking for you <3

But no, he doesn’t fuck your pussy. He knows you’re overstimulated! He’s not that cruel!! But he fucks your thighs. Damn, your thighs, he just loves them. He presses your thighs together — he LOVES and lives for the sight of it. And then puts his dick in front of those soft legs, guiding himself between your thighs before finally pushing forward, letting out the loudest whine you heard.

“Shit, s’good, goddamn, you were made for me,“ He genuinely starts babbling, just as fucked dumb as you are. Moving his hips lazily but desperately, covering your inner thighs with his precum. And when he finally cums on your thighs and pulls away, he turns you around and just stares at the art work he made. to him, the sight of your thighs covered in his seed is a damn piece of art.

“Princess, can I take a photo? Looks so pretty, all mine,”

He ends up taking a photo of your thighs like this, his hand resting there and gently squishing the soft flesh, as if marking you as his. You just know he’s gonna jerk his damn soul off to that photo when you’re not around.

End! Phew, that took a minute. I have a history test tomorrow, I will scream my lungs out. Wish me luck or smth </3

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil smut #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut

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rongrii · 2 months

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I recently started redesigning characters from HH for my and my friends au’s, first one I did was Lucifer :D

He quickly became my favourite character, and I really wanted to have my own take on him.

I would really appreciate if you gave me you feedback and thoughts! I know text I wrote is long, but I really tried to make things interesting <:) I do not support Viv, I pirated the show and I know it’s flaws, so I am trying to fix them how I like.

First of all, visual design changes. I want to say that I didn’t put “animation friendly design” as my priority, in show I would like to decrease amount of his details, but here it’s not very important.

Facial features changes:

- I wanted to make him look more interesting, adding goat symbolism in his eyes, nose, horns and ears. He looks kinda strange in show if think about it, angels there don’t have any noses? It bothers me a bit.

- Here I am taking a turn into making Lucifer and Satan into once person, unlike in the show. I just wanted and It seemed more logical to me. His hair is now wavy/curly, I took inspiration from paintings and sculptures where Lucifer is depicted with wavy hair.

Outfit:

- His shoulder pads(if I am using the right word) have small details on them which I repeated on his coat. I change his bow tie to a tie mostly due a personal preference, and now eye and appears only in his demon form is visible at all times.

- Hat now has a single big apple in the middle, and snake can be either on staff or the hat. Staff now has dark wooden texture that flows into the apple, resembling a tree.

Now onto character role, personality and behaviour changes.

Trying to be equal to God:

- Biblical reason to Lucifer’s fall was his pride and desire to be equal to his creator. If we had this motivation for him in the show, it would be much better. It suits person who lives in circle of Pride, it may explain why Lilith took Charlie away from Lucifer in that one scene, it adds depth into Charlie’s daddy issues. I love for how dorky and unserious he is the show but here, I wanted to follow another path, of making Lucifer actually prideful, terrifying king of hell.

- God sees everything. In attempts to imitate it, Lucifer the same way sees and knows about most of what happens in hell. You notice how much eye ornaments are on the streets? I took this idea in Lucifer being able to spectate whenever he wants on any place eyes are placed in. This extends to every ring, having even more power than Vox and his cameras. Lucifer’s eyes on his cape may also appear in situation when he decides to watch sinners and demons, as well as pupils shift form. He also knows every soul who enters and leaves hell, like Sera.

- I often see points about Lucifer being God’s favourite in the past. This could be incorporated in the story, making even more sense for Lucifer to be so prideful. Charlie could face the same consequences, + Lucifer could treat her like Charlie is a God’s son, like Lucifer himself is. More depth and angst into Charlie’s relationship with father, yay!!

Other changes:

- He could use more coldness to the sinners. I don’t think it much matters to him if they are killed, more than that, Lucifer would kill the sinners like exorcists do, if they are not acting how he wants to. But in hell, you can’t run away from Lucifer like it is possible from exorcists. It would make him more scary.

- He and the royal family because of the first point are respected. Lucifer’s pride wouldn’t allow him to treat him badly.

This is not all, put the post is long already and I am still thinking things out. I will make part 2 with his full demon from and more thoughts, so stay tuned!

Thank you if you read all that, and even if you didn’t and just liked the art. Tell me if I got things wrong and I have mistakes in my research of Lucifer in religion. Have an awesome day!!

#art #artists on tumblr #sketch #drawing #digital art #rongrii art #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel redesign #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel fanart #hazbin hotel art #hazbin critical #hazbin redesign #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #vivziepop critical #long post

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espinosaurusrexex · 7 months

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Happy Little Accidents

Veteran!BuckyBarnes x Female!ArtTeacher!Reader

summary: In a world after the war, Bucky tries to get pieces of his old self back by joining an art class. He meets you and instantly falls head over heels. Now he just has to work up the courage to ask you out.

a/n: wrote most of this on my lunch break after finally feeling the creativity spark again. I hope you all get a cozy fall feeling.

word count: 3.3k

warnings: adapting to life after war, frustration, a little angst, love-dazed Bucky, just so much fluff and wholesomeness 💕

･ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ

↑ the face of a man too whipped to listen - this is the Bucky vibe today

Steve Rogers was an artist. A lot of people knew about it. Hell, the Smithsonian even had a gallery full of sketches from a notebook of Steve’s he had lost back in ‘45. But Steve never needed people to recognize his work. Just like he never needed all the fame that came with his shield or all the honors he got for doing what he thought normal human decency implied - stopping bullies.

But what not many people knew was that Steve loved his art so much, he even held little sketch workshops in the camps on the western front. He drew each member of the howling commandos with impeccable accuracy. He loved drawing portraits and he loved to help.

Which was why, sooner or later, Bucky had been talked into trying his first sketches back in the day as well. Back when he was still left-handed, back when he found joy in little things such as drawing with his best friend. Back when he was not who he was now.

Yeah, he was bitter about it...

Bucky wasn’t too shabby of an artist per se. He was rather quick with his sketches always able to find the right spot for his next line and even though they weren’t perfect, one could always see what his pictures were meant to present.

Yes, they were crooked and not nearly as good as Steve’s but he had fun with it. Sketching had been an escape for his soul while bombs were exploding only miles away from his camp. It had reminded him of his best friend when they were apart, and most importantly, it taught him patience.

God, so much patience.

Bucky had never been good with it. Always fast, always right away. But the amount of times Steve made him erase carefully constructed lines and shapes had him feel scolded like a kid.

Later, he was grateful for it.

Now? He hated just touching a pencil. Every time he was reminded of his recovery, of months of frustration and anger, of grief and sadness. All because he’d lost his arm, and with it, all that had brought him joy in life.

When he had to learn to write with his right hand, he screamed at the papers before him, the crooked and shaky lines mocking him with vigor.

You’ll never be the same, they said, You’ll never have true joy back.

He felt like a child. Unable to do the most mundane of tasks, whilst fully aware of what had to be done to get it right.

But he missed it. The way drawing would clear his mind and the ease he felt when thinking of nothing but the next step in the process.

So after a particularly frustrating session with his therapist, Bucky had walked through a gallery on his way home. Beautiful pieces, each more impressive than the next hung on bright white walls until he reached a small corner with sketches and photographs. They weren’t less good than the rest, but other than the huge paintings, they seemed approachable - and they reminded him of times far gone.

“Hello, would you be interested in signing up for a sketching class?” An angelic voice had asked after holding a leaflet into his line of sight. And when he followed the hand up to your face, his breath hitched in his throat.

“I- I don’t think I’d be any good…” he had said with a pitiful smile as his left arm raised next to his head, the sleek silver of his hand shining in the showroom light.

“Oh don’t be silly. Everyone can be an artist.”

And that was all it took.

Now he was here. Sitting in a room with about eight other people, listening to you talk. Though Bucky didn’t pay much attention to your words. He was distracted by the way your lips curved when you spoke, and how your hands looked in the light when you flailed them in the air. He wanted to draw you, only you. But he knew he could never do you justice. And that frustrated him a little.

His first task was easy. A series of connected squiggles and shapes. The second was harder - finding and highlighting familiar motives in his work. But when he tried to connect his shapes, his hand began to tremble and the line on his paper got dented, he huffed in surrender.

A look to the front to you talking with another woman and he was getting off his chair.

This was useless. He should have never come here.

But when he moved to gather his things, your voice stopped him once again.

“Oh that’s interesting,” you said with a tilted head, your eyes following the little dent in his drawing.

“Yeah, I messed it up.” He shook his head and added a careful, much more quiet ‘I always do”.

“You see, it’s only a mistake if you make it one.” You turned to him and smiled and his heart began racing now that all your attention was on him. Bucky looked around to see if anyone noticed, but the other participants were all focused on their work. “I’m not going to tell you that this line isn’t supposed to be the way it is. You alone can decide that.”

You stepped closer as he eyed his paper again. “So, Bucky,” holy crap you remembered his name. And it sounded so good coming from your lips. “Are you gonna make it a mistake or not?”

❁ ❁ ❁

That was a month ago. And Bucky had come to your class every Sunday night since then. But now his crush had only intensified.

Every time you stepped behind him to watch him work, his hand began to sweat. Every time you gave him a suggestion, his eyes were so drawn to your lips, he barely heard what you were saying. Just yesterday this had caused him to get into a particularly awkward situation. He hadn’t listened, of course - those stupid mesmerizing lips of yours were at fault for it. And when Bucky finally came back from his daydream of imagining what they would feel like on his lips, he knocked over a jar of water as he noticed you had moved next to him. And to make matters even worse, you had caught him talking to himself as he cleaned up the mess.

Bucky was beyond embarrassed. He wasn’t normally that clumsy, all his moves were calculated. No limb out of control, but when you were around, he seemed to have lost that trait of his - which was actually kind of nice...

He was in deep. And he didn’t know how to handle it.

He was contemplating never going back to your class. He would probably end up ruining somebody’s work and - besides - it wasn’t like he could ever work up the courage to ask you out. It was just all too scary.

“Bucky, is that you?” Bucky froze as he studied the coffee menu above the barista. He was going to order black anyway. But the voice that called out his name almost made him want to pretend he was still studying the sign.

“Bucky.” Your voice came closer and when you were standing next to him, he finally looked at you. And there you were, with a bright smile and a scarf shielding you from the cool fall breeze outside.

“Oh, hey.” He paused, treading, not knowing what to do with his hands or pretty much any part of his body. At least, in your workshop, he had something to do. “...hey.”

“It’s nice to see you, how’s your homework going?” You rubbed your hands together to warm them and at the sight of your delicate fingers, he felt his cheeks heating up when he imagined holding them.

“It’s... well, it’s going...” He sighed and watched his feet as they shuffled on the tiled floor. “It’s not going well if I’m being honest.” And with a shy smile, he rubbed the back of his neck, watching as you nodded in understanding.

“I know it sounds stupid, but sometimes it really helps to just get started without thinking about it too much.”

He chuckled. That was exactly his problem. Because every time he wanted to start, he wondered what you would think about it. And then his thoughts drifted to you entirely and how your neck would bend when you watched him draw over his shoulder, or how your fingers swayed over his artwork to point out the parts you were talking about. God, he loved when you did that.

“-only if you want, of course.” Your nose crinkled when Bucky’s mind brought him back to the coffee shop again. You were staring at him expectantly, your smile growing nervous with every second he took to register that you had just asked him a question.

Bucky had no idea what you had just said. He had been too lost in his daydream yet again and now he made you look stupid in the middle of this coffee shop. There wasn’t much time to decide what his response would be, but under no circumstance did he want to admit just how scattered he was around you. So without thinking, he just nodded with a tight-lipped smile and willed his knees to stay strong when your eyes brightened.

“Awesome! When are you free?” Free? Did you just ask him out and he hadn’t even paid attention?

“Uh, Sunday?” Bucky stammered as his heart began to pound in his chest. This has got to be a prank.

You laughed, and Bucky got weak in the knees. “Sunday is workshop, silly.”

Stupid, stupid, Bucky. “Right, uh... Friday then.” The rapid beat in his chest took his breath away.

“Okay, great. Here give me your phone so I can give you my number.”

“You’re–“ Bucky choked as his hands scrambled to fish his phone out of his pocket. “Yes, yeah sure, cool.” Cool? Oh god.

You took it from him, entered your contact with a little paintbrush emoji, called yourself, and handed it back to his sweaty hand.

“I’ll text you my address.” You stepped forward to pay and retrieve your coffee, gifting the barista a smile that made him blush - apparently, you were a regular because Bucky did not remember you ordering - but then again - he didn’t really pay attention apparently. “Oh, and bring your art supplies!”

And then you were out the door, letting crisp air into the cozy coffee shop, and Bucky standing dazed and confused as to what had just happened.

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky stared at his phone for the fifth time now, making sure he was in front of the right door before ringing the bell. He was nervous, to say the least. He couldn’t even remember the last time he was on a date, not to mention the last time he felt this nervous about being on one. He was a strong believer in facts but you asking him out had to be a sign from the universe. One he would only get once and he could not screw it up.

His hands smoothed over his black button-up one last time before adjusting his leather jacket again. Then he rang the bell and not even a minute later, you greeted him with a warm smile and urged him to give you his jacket to hang up.

“I just made tea, do you want some?” Bucky followed you to the kitchen where the faint but homey scent of pumpkin spice filled the air. He watches as you scrambled to find your oven its and then retrieve something delicious smelling from the oven. “Cookies?”

“I’m good with tea for now.” He chuckled in awe at how nice your home felt. Once he could tear his eyes away from you, he peered over the kitchen island into your living room, where many different artworks and photographs were displayed on the walls. Every pillow on your sofa had a different color and the blankets sprawled on it and the chair were too inviting for him not to picture the both of you cuddled up beneath them.

“Alright then, suit yourself. But just know these are my specialty.” You snatched one from the tray before almost dropping it again. “Ouch, hot.”

Bucky felt drawn to the room. With all its warm light and fall-scented candles, hints of read books and discarded crocheting, with a crackling fireplace and soft carpeting. He also felt awfully intimate at the glimpse he got into your life by being here, but he had already declared this place his favorite in his mind.

“Are you ready?” Bucky turned to you and watched as you padded your hands on your jeans, leaving faint flour prints on the dark denim.

“Ready for what?” He smiled again, he seemed to be unable to stop around you. But he was just so happy to be here, to be close to you, and to finally spend more time with you.

You chuckled and set two cups of tea on the table. “For your sketches. That’s the whole reason you came here for, remember?”

You settled on the ground and padded the sofa for Bucky. But he could just stand there and stare at you while trying to ignore the lump that began to build in his throat. He clenched the bag with his art supplies in his hand and watched as the soft material wrinkled in his grasp.

Of, course. He took a breath. How could he have been so naive? Then stepped towards the sofa. The whole thing had been a mistake. And finally sat down with a heavy smile.

The sadness was filling him so fast, it threatened to spill right out of him, but Bucky wouldn’t let this little big dent in the road be shown in front of you. Instead, he focused on your hands when they pulled his sketch pad from his bag. And your eager smile when you flipped through his failed attempts on the paper.

The whole atmosphere was wearing a thin layer of sorrow all of a sudden, and Bucky felt his heartache when you leaned over to him to point out the parts you liked the most. Your perfume seemed just that much sweeter as if it were mocking him all of a sudden.

He didn’t listen. He just watched you with the same longing he’s had ever since he met you. Back to square one. Back to the distance he had with you before he foolishly thought you had asked him out. Except now he’d lost all the confidence left in him to take the next step.

Bucky let the evening wash over him. Trying to concentrate on your tips and examples, tasting the tea you had offered to him with the sweetest smile. And before he knew it, he was standing in front of your apartment building again - with a box of those pumpkin cookies in hand and a heart that felt heavier than the bricks he was staring at.

He sighed and began his walk back home.

❁ ❁ ❁

On Sunday he decided that he wouldn’t give up. Bucky didn't know what changed his mind. He just knew that he couldn’t stop thinking about you and him on that incredibly comfortable sofa of yours and the scent of your cedar and cinnamon candle which seemed to linger on his skin for days after his visit. He wanted to play the sketching games he had half-heartedly endured last time and he wanted to become a better artist.

Bucky had left your cookie box at home as an excuse to meet up with you again. And even though he was sweating ferociously when he approached you after class, you had agreed to meet with him again.

He’d left the gallery with a bright smile that evening. Excited for the next time he’d see you again and eager with daydreams on the subway home.

You and Bucky met up every week. Every time, spending a little longer not just drawing and it filled his heart with warmth and happiness. You shared laughter, and, in Bucky’s eyes, a growing connection with every passing meeting.

He learned about your dreams and aspirations and told you about his past, his interests, and his most treasured fantasies.

As weeks turned into months, Bucky found himself drawn to you in more ways than the warmth radiating from your smile he’d noticed the first day he met you, or your talent of calmly helping him in every way possible. He admired your passion for art, your kindness, and your enchanting presence. The fear and the shyness that had gripped him at first, slowly faded away - replaced by a sense of comfort when he was with you.

And soon he realized that there was nothing he didn’t love about you. This was how he got the courage to, on one calm evening spent on your sofa, between the colorful pillows he had been thinking about falling asleep on for weeks, place his hand in yours and intertwine your fingers with his.

“I got something for you,” he whispered between dialogues of the Halloween movie playing on TV, watching as your eyes aimed up at him with curiosity.

With reluctance, he peeled himself out of the warm blanket you shared and trudged to the sketchbook hidden in his bag. The initial idea had been dipped in silly confidence. But it was too late to back out now. He’d already told you about it.

So despite his nervous heartbeat, Bucky came back to the sofa and handed you the book.

“Open it,” he nudged when you carefully inspected the black leather binding, unaware of the confession hidden beneath.

And when you did, he felt he could read every expression on your face like a poem.

The book was filled with sketches of you. The first pages were scattered in hasty pencil drawings, misplaced lines, and unintentional dents. Then followed the section in which he had tried to pay attention to detail. The curve of your nose or the arch of your fingers when they pointed at his artwork. He could see them now, hovering over the sketches himself, and when you turned to the last page of the section, he could see the striking resemblance between them. And so did you. On the next turn, you revealed the latest portraits he’d added to the book - finally confident enough to attempt doing what he saw you as justice, to finally look past his mistakes - or happy little accidents as you called them - and just try it.

Bucky had discovered that your weekly sketch sessions had done him good. And that you had secretly given him back what he had mourned after for so long.

“I couldn’t keep my eyes off you from the moment we met.” He whispered still, too afraid to break the moment you’d just created. “Thought it was time for me to tell you.”

Your eyes were glassy when you tore them from the pages in your hand, a shaky laugh escaping your lips when Bucky beamed down at you. “You did all of this for me-”

“Because of you,” he corrected and wiped a lonely tear from your cheek. “I never thought I could get the joy of drawing back until you showed me how.”

Bucky leaned in closer until your noses touched. “How to be less critical of myself.” He closed his eyes and let his hand linger on your skin. “And how to welcome a mistake by making it an accident-”

And before he could finish that sentence, he felt your lips press to his and your warm hands wrap around his neck to pull him into your body. Bucky shivered in excitement, letting his hands trail down your back and falling into the soft cushions of your sofa while he pressed you to his chest protectively.

He sighed into the kiss, feeling his heart burn with excitement.

Fascinating, how fast a mistake can turn into a happy little accident.

I love you Bob Ross <3

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tummybutterflies · 9 months

Text

Repaired Affection Pt. 1

Pairing: Glamrock Bonnie x GN!Reader

Summary: In which reader is tasked in helping to repair the elusive and ever-mysterious Glamrock Bonnie.

A/N: Mostly inspired by RUIN's Glamrock Bonnie! But fanon is also incorporated! Also Tumblr just deleted my entire draft of this so I'm rewriting it again, YAY! A message from the gods to not pick back up on writing, perhaps?

Enjoy!

Bonnie's red eyes flickered to life before you.

They casted a ghostly carmine hue upon the darkened and stuffed Parts and Services room and a twinge of nerves bubbled inside of your chest. You had worked tirelessly repainting, reconstructing, and repairing all of the animatronic's exterior. You sewed his accessories back together which had been ripped to shreds in a questionably strange fashion. You mended, sanded, painted, and sealed each and every plastic casing covering the rabbits endoskeleton. You repainted and, with much struggle, re-stringed and tuned his bass. A few tasks upon many, many others. Copious hours were poured into this project with a hefty paycheck promised at the very end, and frankly, that was your only driving force. Such a task would have turned you away had the money not been completely worth it.

Working in tandem with the software department to repair Bonnie's memories and other internal components that were, honestly, far too confusing for you, you were finally able to bare witness to the grand awakening of the Glamrock Bonnie. The animatronic that had suddenly disappeared without a trace, only to be found in an undisclosed location, completely destroyed.

As to what happened to the poor hunk of metal, it eluded you. Management kept everything tightly under wraps and sealed away from lower-level security clearance employees such as yourself. You were merely employed for cosmetic repairs with your extensive knowledge in many different art mediums. If you were being honest, investigating such a mystery seemed beyond your pay grade, even with the fat check to be given in your name. You knew this company had many secrets, and Bonnie was certainly one of them. You only cared about doing what you were being paid for, and nothing else.

Most of the time, management had you working in secret, in a small, cramped, and cluttered room buried away in Parts and Service. Its small area rendered your job very, very hard. But you persevered, and finally, all those months of work were about to pay off.

The robot bunny, sat upon a metal desk, lay still and completely unmoving before you. The only indicator of his online status being the soft glow from his unblinking eyes. You held your breath. You hoped more than anything this would work, and that all that time spent on this project wouldn't go to waste.

And then he moved. And he moved again.

It looked as if he wasn't used to being in such a body that belonged to him, stretching his limbs and finger joints over and over, testing them, examining them, just to ensure he was truly awake. You were the first and only figure his eyes could drift to. You both were alone, in the tiny, stuffed closet of a room stored deep in Parts and Services you had been working in for what seemed an eternity. His glassy red irises peered deeply into your own, in such a way you don't think you've ever experienced before. It was as if he was searching and reaching deep inside your soul and turning you over again and again, examining every part of you he could.

"Hey, big guy... I've heard a lot about you... How ya feeling?"

Your only solution to the thick tension in the air was to talk him out of whatever internal conflict he seemed to be having. His eyes flicked away from your own and traveled down your body, up and down, and back up again. He took in every detail of you.

It stayed silent for many seconds before his voice box croaked.

"Who're you?"

You forced a polite smile, "Well, Bonnie, I'm a new employee. You've never met me before. But I've been working on you for many months. You got broken. Pretty damn bad. They didn't you'd make it... But look at you now!" You tried to lighten the mood with a failed lilt in your voice. It was evident you were still extremely nervous.

Suddenly, his eyes began scanning you. In a literal sense and not like they had been before. You assumed he was adding you into his databanks.

"(Y/N)... That'sa beautiful name ya got there. Pleasure to meetcha." His hand reached out and grabbed your own, shaking it. It was cool to the touch and had a tenderness you didn't quite expect. The sanding on your part was done quite well, as you weren't expecting his fingers to glide so soft and smoothly against your own.

Was he programmed for charisma? You couldn't help but notice his slight southern twang. How adorable was that? Ah, maybe Fazbear Entertainment knew how to make fun, child-friendly robots afterall.

"So, you're the one who brought be back to all my glory, huh?" His eyebrow quirked.

You nodded, "Mostly. But the software department fixed all your internal issues. I've just been repairing your... uh, outsides..."

The rabbit seemed to smile at this.

"Whatsay I teach ya how to bowl sometime, yeah? I'd love to get to know the pretty darlin' who saved me after all this time. I tend to repay those who do good to me." He winked.

What the hell? Why is your face getting warm and why was his voice so damn smooth?

#security breach x reader #fnaf x reader #fnaf x you #fnaf x y/n #glamrock bonnie #glamrock bonnie x reader #glamrock bonnie x y/n #security breach ruin x reader #ruin x reader #glamrock x reader #self ship #self ship community #fnafsb x reader #fnaf #fnaf security breach #glamrcok bonnie #security breach ruin

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crowleys-hips · 1 month

Text

Pietà

art by @crowleyholmes

In the final moments of the last battle to save Earth, Crowley deals the last blow and he watches triumphantly as the Metatron collapses before him. But he doesn't come out unscathed. With a holy weapon pierced into his abdomen and time slipping away from him, he makes peace with his doomed fate as he awaits death in his angel's arms. Aziraphale will -not- have it though, as he does everything in his power to save the being he loves the most, risking everything to keep him.

Crowley doesn't notice the holy weapon piercing his upper abdomen at first, too busy still holding up his own infernal weapon as he watches the body of the powerful entity before him slowly start to crumble, a triumphant, wicked smile painted across his lips, adrenaline and victorious exhilaration coursing through his veins after a long, hard-fought battle against Heaven's tyrant. Then it hits him like a freight train. Pain so poignant it makes the world seem to bend. He stumbles a few steps back, dropping his weapon as his mind catches up with the sensation. The pain throbs violently, rapidly spreading like poison from his abdomen down to his every limb. He stops breathing as a weak attempt to stop it, but it doesn't help much. He just stands there, limbs shaking until his wobbling legs collapse. He grunts at the shock of pain that shoots up his body as his knees hit the ground and he falls limply on his side, mouth gaping helplessly like a fish out of water. The pain courses through his entire body, and it’s worse than any torture he’s ever endured in hell or anywhere. He's been whipped, burned, shot, cut in half, dismembered, had his bones repetitively broken, and worst of all, been forced to write a five hundred page essay on why demons should never do good deeds. And of course, he's been stabbed before. Quite a common occurrence during his first centuries on Earth. But never has he ever come close to a holy weapon of this caliber before. Holiness so venomous it stings and burns right through his very soul, chafing at it, tearing it, corroding it bit by burning bit, slowly disintegrating the delicate fabric of his essence. He wants to scream, but finds himself voiceless, so he just lies there motionless, ichor oozing out of his wound, pooling around him, collecting in his mouth, and trickling down his cheek.

It feels like hours -though it must've been just a couple minutes- before he is found. A familiar voice calls out to him in the distance, a voice he knows as well as his own. It sounds pained and desperate, and he wants nothing more than to run to it and soothe its owner’s woes until there's nothing left but gentleness in the world. The voice sounds way farther than it is, for in an instant, there are soft hands carefully scooping him up, cradling him close, surrounding him in warmth. His eyes try to focus on the blurry figure above him.

“...wley,” The echo of his voice reaches him. “Crowley, oh God Crowley answer me,” he pleads.

A different kind of ache crushes his chest. It's fine, everything is fine. I took care of it, he wants to say. His mouth twitches, trying to form words, knowing they could very well be his last.

“Angel,” he manages to whisper. “My angel…”

Continue Reading on AO3

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semisgroupie · 8 months

Text

if i fall from the heavens, my new shelter shall be your tender embrace

fallen angel!getou suguru x angel!fem. reader

wc: 2.5k

warnings: HEAVILY sacrilegious, manipulation, coercion, unprotected sex, creampie, virginity loss, fingering (f!receiving), corruption, public sex, sex in a church, slight dubcon, betrayal, multiple orgasms (f!receiving), slight overstimulation, a little blood (quick mention), tears

synopsis: he’s lost you once and he won’t let it happen again

a/n: the art in the banner is the fallen angel by alexandre cabanel

After Satan’s rebellion against God, many things had changed. There was an uneasiness in the air and it seemed as though every angel in Heaven walked on thin ice that could crack at any second.

You were careful, every movement and action was methodical and rehearsed in your head a million times. Your lover was the opposite. Suguru wasn’t careful, he spoke his mind and was open about losing his faith in the almighty. A loss of faith turned into anger and then turned into confrontation which led to the worst moment you could possibly think of. Suguru was cast down to hell and it felt like your heart shattered into pieces.

Days passed and the ache in your chest never settled. As time passed you yearned for your lover, you missed the crinkle near his eyes whenever a smile was thrown your way, you missed the way he said your name softly, and you missed how he set your skin ablaze with just a simple touch.

More time passed and you were convinced you’d never hear from him or stumble upon him. You thought that it must not have been in God’s blueprint for you two to cross paths ever again. Why would God want you to see Suguru again anyway? He was tainted with a loss of faith and an impure heart while you oozed purity and holiness. But it never stopped your search.

Every single day you went to an abandoned church. The abandoned church was somewhere Suguru took you so you two could pretend to be normal humans with minds full of curiosity. You went again today and sat down on one of the dusty pews to recite the same prayer. You prayed that you’d have the chance to see Suguru just one more time, even if it was just for a millisecond. You were also convinced your prayer fell on deaf ears.

“Amen.” You let out a small sigh and slowly stood up then quickly turned when you heard a floorboard creak. Your eyes widened at the man that stood at the cobweb covered entrance. “Suguru?” The light that reflected off of him made him look like an angel but as he stepped closer to you, a gasp left your throat.

His wings that were once white were black, as if his old wings had been washed and tarnished with soot. Your body moved before you could wrap your mind around his new appearance. Once the distance was closed between you two he pulled you in close and hugged you tightly. “I thought I’d never see you again.” He mumbled his words into your hair as he peppered kisses along your head and all you could do was nod while tears began to stream down your face.

Your prayers had finally been answered and you were finally able to see and be with your love again. He placed his hands on your shoulders and pulled back to look at you. “Oh my sweet doll, please don’t cry. Tears should never stain a face as beautiful as yours.” He brought his thumbs up to wipe at your eyes and you lifted your hands to hold onto his wrists.

“I can’t believe you’re here Suguru. I’ve been searching for you every single day. I’ve prayed to see you once more and now you’re finally here.” You sniffled and a warm smile graced his features. “Darling, nothing can keep me away from you. I’ll always find my way back to you for our souls are intertwined. We will never part. I will crawl through the pits of hell until I see you again.”

He pulled you close again and walked with you to sit down. You brought your hand up to trace his features, memorizing each with your fingertips. “I’ve missed you more than anything Suguru. Why did you have to leave me? Why did you have to voice your doubts and frustrations? Why?” You met his eyes and felt a shiver run down your spine, the warmth you seeked in them was replaced by something odd, something you couldn’t put into words. “I couldn’t stay silent. I couldn’t stay in a place where I was frustrated, I couldn’t face that hypocrite every waking moment. I’m sorry but I had to do it. But enough of that, I’m here now and that’s all that matters.”

He hugged you to his chest and just held you. You were angry with Suguru for abandoning you but everything fell to the back burner as he held you. You shut your eyes and relished in the feeling of his strong arms around you. You had to enjoy him for as long as you could because you didn’t know when he would be ripped from you again.

He moved his hand along your arm and gently squeezed your shoulder when he reached it. “Hey, I have an idea.”

You lifted your head and looked into his eyes. “What is it?” He brought his hand that was formerly on your shoulder to your face and cupped it gently, “why don’t we consummate our love? We were never able to do it before and I don’t know when I’d be able to see you again. I want to feel you completely before I have to go back.” Your eyes widened and you shook your head, “that’s sinful Suguru, we can’t. I don’t want anything to happen to either of us.” He smiled and shook his head before pressing his lips to yours to quiet you down.

You melted into him immediately, enjoying the feeling of his lips against yours and when he pulled away, you instinctively followed his lips. “Just this once and then we’ll never have to do this again. Plus I don’t think anything will happen to you, you’ve been on God’s good side for the longest. I bet you’re one of his favorite angels.” You giggled and shook your head, “no way, you know who his favorite was and what happened to him. I can’t imagine what would happen to me.”

He kissed you again and held you closer to him, “then don’t imagine it, only focus on me. I’ll be your salvation.” He mumbled against your lips and kissed you rougher and more passionately than before. Little mewls and whimpers left your lips and he drank each sound that escaped you. One of his hands began to wander and he began to grope your breasts over the thin dress that covered your body. You gasped and he took the chance to slip his tongue into your mouth, gliding the wet muscle along your own. Everything he did sent fire through your veins, your body was heating up and only he could quell your burning desire.

He pulled away and began to trail his kisses along your neck, sucking and biting the sensitive skin. More whimpers and moans escaped you and filled the empty church. His hand that was on your breasts slid lower until it was between your thighs and he brought his hand to your most sensitive part. He helped lay you back against the pew but the second discomfort spread across your face he helped you back up. “Come with me to the front of the church, it’ll be better than these creaky pews.” He stood and took your hand in his as he led you to the front. There was a table that used to be used for communions and masses that was covered with a white table cloth. He helped you on top of it and gently pushed you back on it.

“Just rest my love, I’m going to make you feel very good.” He leaned down to capture your lips again and brought his hand back to where it was. His slightly calloused fingers dragged against your lower lips before he added a little bit of pressure to spread you open. You gasped and moaned softly against his lips as his fingers began to circle your clit, putting the slightest pressure to make your toes curl. The feeling that coursed through your veins was so foreign to you but you couldn’t help but crave it more. He slid his fingers lower and pressed them against your drooling hole, gathering all the slick that seeped onto his fingers then pushed one of them inside you.

Your mouth fell open as he started pushing his finger in. It felt like an extreme stretch but it was only a single digit. He moved it slowly, feeling your walls clench and coil around him as he experimented with you. His eyes were focused on you, watching each expression that graced your face. He pressed his thumb to your clit and a moan of his name left your lips. “Suguru!” His name echoed throughout the church and it fueled his motions. He leaned down and dragged his mouth along the sensitive skin of your neck. The feelings were all too much and all you could do was cry his name and writhe underneath your lover. “You’re crying my name like I’m your god, it’s so delicious. Cry it more.” He groaned against your skin as he curled his finger up to hit your g spot. The second his finger touched the sensitive spot, tears welled in your eyes and your mouth opened in a silent cry.

He continued to rub your clit and pump his finger, easing you through your orgasm. He kissed up your neck and kissed you deeply. It was a kiss that you could barely reciprocate properly but he still continued it. Just as you had eased around his finger, he slowly pulled it out and brought the slick digit to his mouth to suck it clean. He groaned as your juices coated his tongue then pulled his finger out with a soft pop. “So sweet. If the forbidden fruit tastes just as sweet then I can see why Eve couldn’t resist the temptation.” He leaned down to kiss you again while he released his cock from its constraints and pressed the leaking tip to your slick entrance.

“Now the all-seeing eyes of God can watch as I bathe you in the pleasure of sin.” At this point you had half the mind to question him or properly take in his words. You were still drunk from the orgasm that had just taken over your body and the pleasure that you had just experienced had quickly been replaced by another feeling as he began to push his cock into you. The sting that burned through your veins felt like what you had imagined the fires of hell must have felt like. You wanted the feeling to stop, it was all too much for you but it was as if Suguru could read your mind. He leaned down and caressed your cheek, “it’s okay my love, you trust me don’t you? Know that I will never bestow anything upon you that you can’t handle. I know you can handle this, just hold onto me and I promise this pain will quickly be replaced by pleasure.”

You nodded at his words and held onto his arms as he continued to push into you. Fresh tears spilled from the corner of your eyes and your nails dug into his flesh, breaking the skin. Once he was completely inside you, he brought one hand between your bodies and started to rub your clit. “Suguru, please make me feel good. I don’t want to feel any pain.” Your words were barely above a whisper but they reached him perfectly, he wrapped his free hand around you and pressed your chest to his. The pain soon started to dull and he began to thrust into you. Groans and moans filled the church like the harmonies of a choir. Skin slapped against skin in a sinful entanglement and pleasure coursed through your body. You held onto him tightly as he thrusted into you, the tip of his cock hit your sensitive spot with each heavy thrust. “You feel so good, Suguru. I want to experience this with you more and more, I don’t think I’ll be able to go without it for long.” Your words came out in a mix of moans and whines and all he could do was groan in response.

“I love you, Suguru. I love you so much. I never want to part from you again.” You continued to babble and Suguru looked into your eyes. “I love you even more. We will never part again. You will be by my side until hell freezes over and even beyond that.” He kissed you deeply and held you closer to him as he began to pick up the pace of his thrusts. Your body tensed against his as another orgasm threatened to approach and he was just as close. His hand between your bodies moved faster against your clit, another surge of pleasure washed over you as you were sent over the edge. Your pussy tightened around his cock and that was enough to trigger his own orgasm. Thick ropes of cum filled you and coated your walls.

You both panted into each other's mouths, heavy breaths replaced all the earlier sounds. Suguru caught his composure first and his eyes lit up as he took in your appearance. “This suits you so much better, my love.” Your eyebrows furrowed a bit at his words and you turned your head to follow where his gaze had fallen. Your eyes widened at the sight, your wings had been washed with the same soot that coated his wings. “What?”

It was all you could say as Suguru pulled out of you, a mix of your orgasms and blood coated his cock and he tucked it away. “Now you can see for yourself. You can see the hypocrite he is. You have been nothing but devoted to him and this is what he does to you, this is how he repays you. In the blink of an eye you lose your spot in the heavens and gain entry into hell. This anger that you might feel towards me will soon be replaced by hatred for God, I can guarantee that. I’ve opened your eyes, now you are enlightened, not blinded by whatever bullshit he’s spewed. Now we can be together, now we’ll never be apart. I’m sorry that it had to happen this way but I didn’t know when I’d get the chance to show you. Now come on, I have to welcome you to your new home.”

He carried you off the table and held you close to him while you wrapped your arms around his neck. The thin ice that you had been treading on had finally cracked and now you had to face the consequences but at least you had your lover at your side to keep you from drowning. Maybe he was your salvation in some twisted way but that was something you had to decide. But while God had turned his back on you, you did have to thank him for one thing, you were finally reunited with your love.

taglist: @gojoest @half-baked-biscuit @lalunanymph @jozhenji @nymphoheretic @arisaturn @history-be-written @aizensballsweat @xingyunist @makisslut @sunarc @suyacho @dilftaros @satmitsuplanet @benkeibear @watyousayin

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto smut #geto suguru smut #getou smut #getou suguru smut #tw:sacrilege #tw:unprotected sex #tw:virginity #tw:blood #tw:blasphemy #tw:manipulation #tw:coercion #tw:corruption

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cosmerelists · 1 day

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Cosmere Protagonists Who Would Support the Villain...of Other Cosmere Planets

As requested by @asteroidfieldgame :)

Sure, in their own stories the villains are not well-liked by the majority of the cast. But if we took those villains and had them meet protagonists of other Cosmere novels...well, then it might be different, mightn't it?

[Here there be spoilers! I would skip any entry if you're not caught up on all the books for both characters involved!]

1. Moash: Supported by Kelsier

Kelsier: [holding Moash protectively ala that one meme with Kevin Hart] Kelsier: My boy Moash has LITERALLY never done anything wrong ever! Kelsier: Ooooh, did he kill his oppressors? Is he mean to poor helpless nobility? Did someone Rich experience a Consequence? Moash: (mumbling) I did try to drive my friend to suicide. Kelsier: Shh...baby boy, it's okay! Kelsier: I made my disciple advocate for old people to kill themselves with spikes to preserve their power! Kelsier: You're literally fine.

2. Odium: Supported by Harmony

Harmony: Listen, I'm not saying I agree with everything Odium does. Harmony: But making it so that you have a planet of mighty, battle-hardened residents to prepare for the coming Cosmere-wide conflict? Harmony: Sometimes I wonder if I should have done something more like that. Harmony: Instead of giving everyone an easy life and making giraffes because giraffes are neat. Odium: Have you considered...battle giraffes? Harmony: Please don't patronize me.

3. Hrathen: Supported by Ellista (that one Ardent who was really into romance novels)

Ellista: I am not immune to a handsome man in bloodred armor with a troubled past whose hard, mean exterior is slowly worn away through love. Ellista: A man who chooses love--unrequited love!--over his own god! Ellista: Problematic for an Ardent like me, but so, so compelling. Ellista: (sighs dreamily) Hrathen: ... Hrathen: Could I have someone else's support please?

4. Riina [from Tress]: Supported by Wayne

Wayne (counting off reasons on his fingers): One, if you're gonna be the sort to be giving out curses, giving out breakable curses makes you less of an unforgivable villain and more of a garden-variety dick. Wayne: Two, rats are cute. Makin' someone a rat is better 'n' making them a grub or something. Wayne: Three, and most importantly, her penis spaceship is hilarious. Riina: IT WAS NOT A PENIS SPACESHIP

5. The Lord Ruler: Supported by Dalinar

Dalinar: I suppose I am simply more aware than most that being a king is hard and can involve less-than-ideal-choices. Dalinar: And didn't he essentially become immortal while trying to cage an evil god and save his planet? I am literally setting myself up to maybe experience that as we speak. Dalinar: I know he took an entire population and made them slaves, but I did tell Jasnah not to free our slaves so, like... Dalinar: ... Dalinar: Maybe Wit was right. Maybe I AM a tyrant. Wit: You've never done an enforced breeding program with humans, though. That I know of. The Lord Ruler did that! Like, a lot! Dalinar: ... Dalinar: Wait I want to mitigate my support a little.

6. Taravangian: Supported by Shai

Shai: That Diagram of his...well, it's pure art, isn't it? Shai: I'm not immune to the appeal of incredibly complex and well-researched plans turned into an artistic representation so beautiful that it attracts worshippers. Taravangian: It's really more science than it is art, I'd say. Shai: Hilarious that you think those things are different.

7. Nale: Supported by Marasi

Marasi: He knows the law and follows the law. Marasi: Don't think it would ever occur to him that someone could be quote unquote "above" the law. Marasi: That makes him better than, like, quite a lot of my coworkers.

8. The Machine [from Yumi and the Nightmare Painter]: Supported by Vasher

Vasher: Obviously a soul-eating machine that nearly destroys a planet and turns people into nightmares is not ideal. Vasher: But it's not the machine's fault it was given an ill-considered Command. Vasher: Hey! Bald guy! Wanna gentle-parent the machine too? Szeth: Uh

9. Raboniel: Supported by Elend

Elend: Not for nothing am I chair of the Support Women's Wrongs fanclub. Elend: Nor can I fail to support a Woman in Science. Basic feminism. Elend: And although I know my bar is on floor, a parent who will do anything to save their child from eternal suffering gets me right here. (points to his heart)

10. Straff: Supported by...no one

Straff: ... Straff: ... Straff: OH COME ON

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little-diable · 9 months

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Little Lamb - Priest!Tom Riddle (smut)

There's just something about priest!Riddle, I love writing for him. This is a very tame Tom imagine, not nearly as dark as my others. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader helps Priest Riddle with his summer camp, guiding young children through prayers, through talks about God, and religion. She had been tied to him for years, he held her heart and soul hostage, taking her whenever he desires her.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, sex in a church, oral (m), wrong use of rosary prayers, power play, dom!Tom, religious connotations

Pairing: Priest!Tom Riddle x fem!reader (about 3k words)

Incense, a smell so biting, (y/n) had a hard time breathing, hand darting out to grab onto the nearest wooden bench. The smell wandered up her nostrils, clinging to her like the smell of petrichor, so distinct she’d always recognise it. Water filled her eyes, begging her to turn around, to leave this church and the camp she had been forced to join.

Slowly she took another step, and another, till she finally came to halt in front of the altar. (Y/n) couldn’t remember the last time she had visited this church, nothing more than a hazy memory, a fever dream she had woken from all too suddenly, breaking through the blanket of sweat clinging to her like a veil.

Her heart was pounding, racing in her chest trying to fight against what she had been forced into. God, how she wanted to take off, running away before her parents could catch up with her plans, and yet she couldn’t, very well knowing that there was no way out.

“There you are, I was wondering where you were hiding.” His voice echoed through the church as if the Lord himself was speaking to her, booming like thunder rippling through the night, heavy like bricks weighing her drowning frame down. The sound of his shoes meeting the stone ground rang in her ears, one by one, reminiscent of the lives he was praying for.

(Y/n) didn’t dare look at him, eyes directed forwards, staring at the cross that must weigh a few hundred pounds, heavier than any weight she’d be able to lift. She felt him come to a halt next to her, hands clasped together in front of him, shoulders pulled back to appear even taller.

“Look at me.” It was a soft command, and yet he didn’t offer her any room to pull back. But (y/n) couldn’t move, glassy eyes not daring to blink not even once, scared that she’d mess up on her first day, not ready to face her parents' wrath. “(Y/n).”

Priest Riddle singsang her name, cold fingers finding her chin. Slowly he turned her face towards him, moving as slow as somebody exploring a new piece of art, unsure what to expect, taking their time to admire every inch of the masterpiece. Their eyes met, bound together by the strength he emanated, forcing (y/n) closer and closer.

“There’s nothing to fear, you’re safe here, with me.” Before she could reply, choking on the quiet gasp leaving her, the door to the church was pushed open, exposing a crowd of excited children. (Y/n)’s insides churned at the sound of laughter, of excitement echoing through the morning, a sound she had once been all too familiar with.

Years ago she had been one of them, an excited child allowed to spend a weekend at church, learning more about God, about his son, and the fallen angels. She had grown within time, and even as a teenager she had joined the yearly get together, even though her weekends had taken a few unforeseen turns, making her end up with her back pressed against the priest’s mattress, choking on Tom’s name.

He was a few years older than her, had left the town to study theology, till he finally returned years later. The second he had rejoined the church, taking over from the priest he and (y/n) had been all too familiar with, he had pulled her closer, toying with her body and soul. He was a mysterious man, a man with a soul so dark even Lucifer wouldn’t dare cross paths with him, but he was good at playing this charade, faking the smiles he shot those that were too oblivious for their own good, a facade only (y/n) could see through.

“C’mon, it’s time for our morning prayer.”

……

“You’ve been here for only a few hours and you already have something to confess?” He clicked his tongue, towering over her sitting frame with a sinister smirk tugging on his lips. The cold floor pressed against her feet, biting through the fabric of her shoes all too easily like poison burning its way through her flesh. She was trembling, not daring to speak up as she got lost in his darkening eyes, wondering if this is how sinners standing in front of Lucifer must feel, forced to spend eternity trapped in the blackest kind of darkness. “Little lamb, what shall I do with you?”

Both knew the answer to that, both knew that he’d do as he pleases, making her body tremble like Noah’s arch had, trapped in a thunderstorm that could rip her body apart. She heavily swallowed as she watched the priest take a step back, eyes ranking over her frame.

“Kneel, (y/n).” She dropped to her knees without speaking a single word, staring up at the man that held as much power over her as God once had. Oh, how disappointed her parents were, feeling her slip from their and from God’s grasp, forcing her to rejoin this camp as the priest’s helping hand. (Y/n) couldn’t help but wonder how they’d react to seeing this very scene playing out, watching the man undo his black trousers, freeing his hardening cock with skilled movements. “You know what to do, or have you already forgotten your place in this game?”

“Of course not.” (Y/n) felt anger simmering inside of her, how dare he play with her like that, how dare he think that she’d ever forget how to please him. Her desire for him urged her on, wanting to prove to the smirking man that only she could make him feel good, that only she knew how to please him.

With trembling hands she grasped his cock, spitting into her palm to soften the touch, coaxing a satisfied groan out of him. She swallowed him down all too easily, eyes not daring to break contact, not even as he jerked his hips, making her choke on him. Her tears fell like the ones Mary had cried for her son, for Christ Crucified, one with the sadness his death forced through those that had dared to believe in him and his mission.

“See, only a sinning woman like you could touch me like this. I should punish you, should fuck you till you pass out, over and over again, till Lucifer loosens his grip on your soul. But, where would be the fun in that, right?” His ringed hand tugged on her hair, forcing her even closer with his tight grip, making another wave of tears well up in her glistening eyes.

(Y/n) could only hum around his cock, letting the sound vibrate on his skin, making goosebumps rise on his forearms. It was a beautiful sight, the pleasure drunken expression she’d think of whenever her nights felt lonely, needing to take care of the heat flaring up inside of her.

She’d forever remember the feel of his soft skin pressed against her quick moving tongue, every inch had burned itself into her mind, allowing her to find him even in the darkest nights. He was hers, as much as she was his, a silent promise that kept the two blemished souls tied together, forever, even for the time following the last judgement.

He kept jerking his hips, fucking her mouth with more pressure, making the corners of her mouth burn. She didn’t dare protest, didn’t even whine as she walked along the line of pleasure and pain, and yet her cunt kept fluttering around nothing, begging to be filled by him. Curses rolled off the priest’s tongue, the cross chain around his neck rested peacefully on his chest, rising and falling with every deep exhale.

Once again their eyes met as he came down her throat, forcing her to swallow every drop as if he was pouring consecrated wine into her mouth. Her moans left the man smirking, stepping away from her to tug his cock back into his trousers. For a few more seconds he studied her before his eyes flickered to his watch, “Be a good girl for me today, and you’ll be rewarded.”

……

The fabric of her dress kept stroking her knees with every hurried step (y/n) took, trying to find the still missing kids, calling them to Priest Riddle’s evening prayer. They had just finished their dinner, able to relax after a day filled with summer activities, with a swim (y/n) had gladly joined – simply to tease the man with wandering eyes, taking in her wet appearance, drenched from the cold water.

“Guys, come on, we don’t want to miss our prayer, do we?” (Y/n) could still remember all these weekends she had spent here, how she had made new friends, how she had shared her first kiss with the man that now fucked her ruthlessly whenever he was dreaming of her, the sweetest kind of relief.

Priest Riddle towered over the altar, eyes taking in the crowd of excited children, before his eyes finally found hers. He watched her close the door, giving him a small nod to give him the signal, starting the prayer with a satisfied hum. The words he spoke rolled off his tongue all too effortlessly, filling the church with the kind of magic the children found themselves amazed by.

But (y/n) couldn’t pay any attention to his words, to his prayers, mind set on the things he’d hopefully do to her. She had decided against wearing any panties, begging whoever dared to pick up on her sinful thoughts that Tom would fuck her till she forgets her own name.

His voice was softer than silk, wrapping itself around her, cradling her closer like a drug blurring out her surroundings. She couldn’t stop watching him, couldn’t stop admiring him as if she was staring at something her human eyes haven’t been fortunate enough to take in before. It was easy, almost too easy, to love him, a sick, toxic relationship she couldn’t flee from, no matter how hard she’d try, he’d always lure her back into his trap.

“You see, I wonder what goes on inside your pretty little head while you stare at me like that, little lamb.” His voice rang in her ears, breath hitching in her chest as she felt his hands on her waist, toying with the fabric. She couldn’t reply, forced away by the call of her name, eyes flickering back to him before she crouched down to the child begging for her attention. The seconds faded by, and yet (y/n)’s mind was still stuck on his words, on the roughness of his voice, wondering how much longer he’d drag out their back and forth.

(Y/n) found her way back to the church the second the kids were in bed, finding rest in their rooms, sharing stories of this very day, full of excitement for the days to come. She had stumbled out of the building as fast as she could, called back to him like a lost lamb searching for its flock. He guided her closer, back pressed against the altar he was leaning against with his arms crossed, with his fingers holding onto his wooden rosary and his bible.

No words were spoken as she came to a halt in front of the man, allowing her eyes to take in his features, wondering how much time God had invested into the man’s creation, sparing extra time on the details she easily picked up on. He reached one hand out for her to take, feeling the wooden pearls pressing into her palm before he pushed the rosary over her head, letting it dangle from her neck.

Their lips met for a kiss, a kiss so heated (y/n) had to grasp his collar, scared that she’d tumble from his grasp. Their moans filled the church like soft music made to lure those that needed some extra guidance closer, but tonight nobody would dare to interrupt them, unable to open the locked doors. She was turned around, small of her back pressed against the altar as his fingers began moving, disappearing underneath her dress, momentarily freezing as he felt her naked cunt.

No warning was spoken as he plunged two fingers into her tightness, expectedly curling them against her swollen spot. (Y/n) couldn’t swallow her moans, giving room to the sounds that rumbled through her as her head rolled back, allowing Tom to kiss her throat, teeth grazing her skin. He fucked her with his fingers for a few moments, thumb circling her pulsing clit to push the sweetest feeling of anticipation through her veins.

“I should punish you for walking around like this, I should punish you for whoring yourself out to me. But you’ve got me bound to you, addicted to the feeling of your cunt clenching my cock.” His words forced another moan to leave her, eyes rolling back as he added more pressure to his touch. Tom pulled away all too quickly, flipping her around to press her front against the top of the altar. She could barely breathe through the excitement filling her, listening to the sounds of Tom undoing his trousers, freeing the cock she had choked on hours ago.

“Start praying, may He grant you his forgiveness.” His rough voice shot shudders down her spine, momentarily distracting her from the feeling of his cock brushing through her slit, lubing himself up with her arousal.

“I believe in God the Father almighty, creator of heaven and earth.” Her voice trembled, eyes squeezed shut as he pushed into her, taking his time to sink deeper into her tightness. A rough “Keep on” left the priest, forcing a shaky inhale of thin air into (y/n)’s lungs as she kept speaking the Apostles’ Creed, speaking the words she knew by heart.

(Y/n)’s trembling fingers toyed with the wooden pearls, mind unable to focus on anything but the feeling of Priest Riddle fucking her from behind, sure to leave marks with the way he pushed her hips against the edge of the altar. She struggled to keep on breathing, nails digging into the thin flesh of her sweaty palms, marks so clear as if she had been to one nailed to the cross, letting the rusty metal pierce her flesh. A pain so distinct she’d forever carry it around with her, sticking to her body the way the priest was clinging to her, not daring to let her go.

“Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us, and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” The prayer left her in pieces, interrupted by her moans and sighs, supported by his own sounds. It was so sinful, and yet it felt so right, bodies made for one another, made to fit their touch like wax copying their frames.

One pearl after another was touched by her, followed by the fitting prayers, urged on to keep on speaking as he pushed her closer and closer to the edge. Soon they’d let go, leaving their stains on one another, hoping that the walls surrounding them would never learn to share their secrets.

“Tell me, little lamb, how close are you?” Both knew the answer to his question, very well aware of the way she clenched around his cock, how her aching clit pulsed against his thumb. (Y/n) stumbled over her words, eyes squeezed shut in a desperate try to work through the fog of pleasure filling her mind.

“So close, ‘m so close.” She kept repeating the words, begging that he’d give in, allowing her to cum with his name burning on the tip of her tongue. Priest Riddle gave it a few more thrusts, before he let go of a simple “Cum”, easily pushing (y/n) over the edge. The rosary fell to the ground as she grasped onto the edge of the altar, eyes squeezed shut, teeth buried in her lip, allowing her orgasm to rock through her.

Was God watching them? Staring down on her with an unfamiliar kind of apathy? Did he remind the sins she has committed numerous times in His holy walls?

She felt him fill her up, painting her walls white with his relief. Both were heavily panting, needing to give one another a few moments before they parted, taking a few steps away from the altar. No words were spoken as he tucked himself back into his trousers, staring at her with a smirk on his lips and a satisfied gaze filling his dark pupils.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning to take your confessions. Be aware, I won’t hold back on the punishment.”

And with his release dripping down her thighs, (y/n) was forced to leave the holy halls, stumbling back to her room with her heart racing on.

#Tom Riddle smut #Tom Riddle imagine #priest fic #harry potter imagine

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sky-kiss · 7 months

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Okay hear me out. This isn't exactly a request unless...👀

But the Raphael x Tav dynamic where he is the only one who can poke fun or give them a hard time is eating my brain.

Like "I can call them a vapid little fool, but if anyone else does the exact same thing it's hellfire and brimstone for them. For a hundred years."

He'd call it affection if it was in his vocabulary.

A/n: This is short, but I’ve been doing a lot of Carrot!Raph and not a lot of Stick!Raph. Some gore and torture ahead. XD Also I don't think this is what you wanted RIP.

__________

“All this caterwauling! You should really feel blessed, little lamb! I rarely sully my hands these days.” Raphael folded his hands at the small of his back. Isolated from the scene around him, the devil would have appeared perfectly genteel: his doublet remained pressed, hair immaculate. Only the eyes were different, violently bright in the prison’s omnipresent gloom.

Souls and prisoners howled around them, some in agony, some in a desperate attempt to catch the Master’s attention. He didn’t hear; only his guest mattered.

The cambion stopped, lingering just outside their field of vision. They’d finally stopped screaming, lapsing into hiccuping sobs, slumped in on themselves. Not his finest work, he’d be the first to admit, but the rage had come upon him too abruptly for a more cerebral punishment. He reached out, fisting his hand in the sweaty mass of their hair, and tugged their head back. Terror flooded their eyes; their mouth tried to curl back in horror but failed to manage it. His claws left the cheek a ruin of tissue. He tapped a nail against the wound. They knew better than to twitch away.

“Remind me why I’m entertaining you, little one.”

It took three attempts before they could finally choke the word out: “Duchess.”

“Ah, yes. How forgetful! You will have to forgive the indiscretion.” Raphael stepped closer. He’d made quite a mess, honestly. Bones jutted from strange, haphazard angles; he’d removed a few in a fit of pique. He didn’t believe they were essential, but it was always so difficult to tell with mortals. He yanked, and the little thing screamed their anguish. “And what was it you said? Be specific; your life depends on it.”

“W…whore. Whore queen. Raph…” they winced. The mouth couldn't form the words, an ever-increasing disconnect between the body and brain as blood loss took its toll. “Your cunt.”

“An inelegant summation.” He wiped his hand on the thing’s shoulders, glancing across the chamber. “Care to vouch for them, duchess?”

His pet chuckled. What a sight! His finest treasure, her gown set with gems, gold chains hanging about her horns. He had created art with her. “It is they say, my duke.”

“And that bodes well for you, little one.” Raphael knelt beside them, stroking hair back from their face. They turned their face into the motion, an awful pantomime of intimacy. “Though…perhaps not as well as you might have hoped. I guard my treasures so zealously, and she is first among them. You understand, don’t you?”

They nodded, miserable.

“But I am not without mercy. Should you apologize to her…we could start fresh. Would you like that, little one?” He pitched his voice lower, speaking as if in conspiracy. Two friends, ready to make peace. They released a shuddering breath and nodded. Raphael held out his arm to his duchess. She came to him with vibrant eyes and a smile, a pretty reflection of all he’d accomplished. His conquest, his might, his pretty love. “Begin, wretch.”

“Beg…beg forgiveness, dutchess. Please…gods, please, forgive us…”

His duchess hummed. “You are forgiven, wretch.” And to Raphael, “My love, must you play with your food? Are you nearly finished?”

“Very nearly, little mouse. First,” he withdrew a vial from his doublet, a draught of restorative waters. He held it to his guest's lips. Like magic, flesh mended itself! Wounds shrunk and disappeared! In a matter of moments, they were whole once more.

“Merciful King, kind lord,” they sobbed, crawling towards him. The wretch painted the toe of his boot with kisses. “Never again. Not a word against you or the lady will pass my lips.”

“No. I imagine not.” He nudged their ribs with his boots. “Alas, our fresh start will have to wait. My duchess requires me.” The imps crawled forward, hungry and eager. “I leave you in my staff’s ever-capable hands.”

#raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #raphael x tav #asks #my fic #cw: torture #cw: gore #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction

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wonyui · 1 year

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ENEMIES TO WHAT? | K.CW

PAIRINGS Kim!Chaewon x F!Reader

SUMMARY You knew the exact buttons to push when it came to getting on Chaewon's nerves. Funny enough, it seems all her attention is now on you after catching her ex in the same party the both of you were in. Just how far is she willing to go in order to piss her ex off?

GENRE WLW, one-shot, enemies to lovers, fluffish(?), romance ig, jealousy, mentions of name calling and swearing, LOTS OF SWEARING beware

"You're staring again." Your best friend Yunjin sighed in disapproval.

You've been staring at Chaewon for what seemed like an eternity. Although the two of you knew each that well to start an argument without no second thoughts, it wasn't that good enough to start a normal conversation.

Groaning and feeling like a total poser, Yunjin softly patted you on the back. "Dude, just go up to her."

It was generous of Yunjin to try and give you the courage you needed, but that wasn't exactly the reason why you couldn't try. "And what? be a total asshole by insulting her for god knows how many times I try to control it?" You took a sip of Yunjin's filled cup of alcohol, "Ugh, what's with this disgusting alcohol mix?'

Taking back her drink, Yunjin glared. "Excuse me. It might not taste the best, but it surely gets me wasted."

'Of course," you plainly thought, knowing exactly who to watch out for the whole night. "Don't drink too much it's gonna be a pain to drag your ass into the car."

"Haha, very funny. My alcohol tolerance is stronger than what I go through when I have to tolerate you." She basically slurred, sounding so out of it.

Rolling your eyes, you excused yourself to find the certain someone who would entertain you whenever you'd get on her nerves. A few steps was all it took before a pair of hands could pull you out of the crowd. "What the fuck?" You hissed, hands hurting from the strong grip that the person had on you.

"Good to see you too," Chaewon scoffed. "Anyway, listen. I need a favor."

Your eyes widened after realizing who it was. Looking down and seeing that she still had her hands on yours, you tugged it away so that damn asshole in your chest wouldn't beat too loud.

"What do you want." Chaewon ignored your recent action, finding herself to blame it on the fact that you were nothing but a weirdo. An attractive weirdo at that.

Looking back at what seemed to be another random yet pretty girl, Chaewon looked back at you and muttered out a few curse words before opening her mouth to speak. "Okay fuck look," you silently waited for her to carry on, "that's my douchebag of an ex girlfriend. She thinks I'm still into her, and I need someone to prove I'm not."

"And you want me to be that someone?" You crossed your arms, looking unimpressed, but the butterflies that built up were telling a different tale.

The same age latter nodded.

"And what do I get out of this?" She didn't look at all surprised, already figured out that you would have asked for something in return because you were an absolute jerk who insulted people for a living.

It was truly an art to see the way she frowned out of annoyance, controlling herself in order to not punch you. The way her teeth clenched made her look somewhat cute yet scary. "Jesus, you greedy fuck. What do you want?"

"I'll think about it." it was obviously a smart decision to save the best for the last. "What's your plan, by the way?"

She blinked, realizing that she didn't have a plan for this to go through and work so decently. "Sorry, what."

"Your plan..?"

"I don't have one."

"Seriously?"

"Can't you just flirt your ass through like you've been doing ever since high-school?"

It was totally uncalled for. True, but totally uncalled for. You laughed, finding her insults even more amusing and funny. "Nothing is funny, she's looking."

Judging from the way that her ex had been drilling daggers into your poor soul, it was kinda working. Taking some part of Chaewon's hair and twirling it with a flirty smile, it made it look natural as if the two of you weren't exactly new to this thing.

"What are you doing?" Chaewon looked red at the moment, slapping your hands when her ex looked away for a few seconds.

She was a stone. Hard stone, to be exact. Just how did she expect for you to flirt? Say some cringy pick-up lines that would have looked silly to her ex because the music was booming louder than everyone else's voices?

"I'm flirting," you mentally facepalmed. "Would you rather I say some useless pickup lines that would have looked as though we were having a normal conversation?"

"Yes." She immediately responded.

She was honestly inexperienced and clueless to the whole thing of making someone jealous. It was both frustrating but a sight to see, just how bad was she at this? Taking another shot of alcohol that someone left on the table, you mustered even more courage. "It wouldn't work that way. You do realize that actions speak louder than words right?"

Chaewon stared at you in distaste, knowing that you were correct in many ways. "God I seriously can't stand this."

It may have sounded too sudden, but once her ex put her focus on the both of you once again, thinking she might have been slick. You smirked and took the opportunity to pull Chaewon closer to you. Chaewon's ex gritted her teeth in annoyance, finding you to be annoying despite not knowing you that well.

"Look at that," you proudly whispered. "She's jealous."

It took a few seconds to realize that Chaewon was still too close to you. You pulled her away to see if she felt uncomfortable, seems like it was the other way.

"Gross. Are you blushing?" Chaewon smacked you on the shoulders for your attempt in teasing her, cursing you. Something about you being annoying and talkative.

Not denying nor saying yes to your sarcastic question, Chaewon looked over at her ex. Doing a double take in case her ex looked invested in what the two of you were doing. You weren't sober but sober enough to see that she was trying to look for any signs. "Double take on your ex, seriously? at this point, look at her for a whole minute." A bitter smile appeared on her face, feeling unbothered until you commented. "No shame in anything. I say she deserves to have whatever comes at her for cheating on me."

Laughing, your throat a little too dry from the unhelpful liquid that you consumed earlier. You couldn't help but find the thought of Chaewon getting cheated on a bit too funny and questionable. Fumbled, really.

"What? Something funny?" She looked offended, balling her fist due to the annoyance that filled up.

You shook your head, feeling quite honest. "Nothing, just amusing that she'd ever think of cheating on you, really."

Chaewon jerked her head, looking elsewhere but you. You couldn't but but notice that this was by far the most normal conversation the two of you could have ever had without the need to choke one another. Cursing? She's getting there.

"I find it insulting how you can state such thing when all you do is annoy me." You shook your head, wanting to prove her wrong. "Yeah, but I never said anything about hating the process of dating you, did I?"

That question had a good amount of effect on Chaewon, making her wonder if it was the alcohol talking or not. She put her hands in her own pockets, forgetting that the two of you were literally in a party filled with sweaty, drunk, and lovesick people all around you.

"She's gone." You stated, about to leave when Chaewon stopped you.

"Wait," She bit the inside of her mouth, feeling embarrassed for feeling this way. "I haven't repaid you yet idiot."

You wanted to tell her, but it was too risky. She didn't know how much of a chokehold she had on you, and you liked to simply put it that way. Chaewon's gaze stayed on you, trying to see if you had been thinking or spacing out like you'd normally do. About to say something, a cold liquid got on your white top. You cursed to yourself, annoyed by whoever made such a horrible mistake only to find Chaewon's ex looking at you with a cocky smirk.

"What the fuck is your problem?" You were in disbelief, the alcohol sticking onto your clothing.

The glint of mischief in her eyes made you wanna punch the 21 iq out of her, but since it seemed like a huge scene, everyone had been staring, waiting for your next move. Luckily, Chaewon took notice of this when she saw your balled up fist, taking your hand and rushing the two of you out of the building. Still angry from the previous 'accident', you ran your hands through your hair and scoffed. "Your ex is a fucking asshole."

"Tell me something I don't know," Chaewon rolled her eyes, trying to be slick by checking you out in the corner of her eyes. "But luckily I brought extra clothing."

You raised your eyebrows in amusement. "Extra clothing? seriously?"

"What? You don't know the icky people that could either puke or.. spill their alcohol on you." Her serious tone turning into a teasing one at the end of her sentence.

You laughed, finding her humor and jokes a bit too funny for your own liking. In just one night, the two of you were already hitting it off well. Chaewon took out her purse(that she had been carrying this whole time) and brought out a white t-shirt. "Here, not sure if this'll fit since your frame seems to be a little bigger than mine," you nodded, taking it anyway. "This is my thank you for taking the alcohol from my shitty ex." Scoffing at her horrible attempted joke, Chaewon smiled in a slick and subtle way.

Since there was no one and the walls were covering most of the spot, you took your top off, making Chaewon panic before she could close her eyes and turn away. Replacing the old clothing with the white t-shirt, you thanked the fact that you still managed to look good.

"Thank you." You mumbled, feeling embarrassed to even say it loud and clear.

Chaewon nodded, acting as if it wasn't a big deal. "So, what about me repaying you for helping me?"

"Can I take you out sometime?" You got straight to the point, this time being unable to blame it on the alcohol because you were fully sober.

"Do you want me to go home and laugh at how much of a silly idea that is?" Chaewon laughed, annoyance not evident in her tone this time. "Shouldn't it be me taking you out since I'm the one repaying you?"

You slowly nodded, cheeks pink tinted. Entering the building to join your friend as Chaewon followed behind, you turned to see what other thing she wanted. "Why are you following me.." Chaewon raised her brows. "My friend is actually there." "Don't lie, what friend?" "Don't make me take back what I said."

Before you could retaliate, a drunk Yunjin wrapped her arms around you and mumbled words that were nearly deafening. "Y/N.. where were you? I wanna go home."

"This drunk asshole.." Chaewon scratched her head in annoyance, pulling Yunjin off of you and into her very own arms. "I'll help her into the car."

You blankly stared at her, a little scared as to why she knew you both came by car. "I'm not insane. Everyone would have noticed such old jeep don't look at me like that."

Accepting her insult along with the truth, you helped her with supporting Yunjin to the car. Although the two of you struggled, Chaewon got tired and threw the younger latter, clearly not caring about whether she'd break a bone or two. "Wow, just romantic, yeah. Throw my friend into her own jeep."

"She's drunk, passed out even. I'm sure she won't notice."

"Okay, fair."

"Mhm anyway, 6 pm. I mean, don't be late, I'll send you the details since I snuck my phone number into your pocket."

You stared in confusion before the realization could hit you, snapping your fingers together, Chaewon couldn't help but mentally judge you.

"What about you?" You got into the driver's seat, looking outside of the car window in order to talk more better to Chaewon.

Chaewon titled her head and pointed at herself. "What about me?"

Too embarrassed to even ask, you made sure to pinch yourself in order to gather the needed courage. "I could give you a lift home."

"Thanks, but," Chaewon softly smiled and pointed at the building that the two of you used to be in. "I wasn't lying when I said I had a friend who also needs my help to drive home safely."

"Then why'd you help me? go help your friend holy." You basically scolded, sending chills down her spine from the sudden change of attitude.

Before she could leave so you wouldn't complain further, she looked back at you. "Oh, and Y/N?"

You looked back, loving the way the moon complimented her features. It looked as though you were spotting an angel. Giving her time to think about her reply, Chaewon opened her mouth once again to finish her sentence. "I had a reason of helping you get here, and it wasn't because of Yunjin," you stayed quiet, knowing exactly what she meant. "I'll go now. Have fun driving that idiot home. Bye, loser."

#chaewon #kim chaewon #chaewon x reader #kim chaewon x reader #chaewon x fem reader #chaewon x f!reader #one shot #gxg #fluff #idol x reader #idol x fem reader #le sserafim x reader #le sserafim x fem reader #gg x reader #gg x fem reader

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lizziespoem · 6 months

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intimacy of being understood | nanamin ͏⸺ one shot

͏⸺ the intimacy of being understood, untouchable, unique and barely to understand, an hidden act of art reshaped to a favor of the gods, to crawl under the skin that is covering the depths of our hearts, we know so many things, yet we never understand ourselves, and to able to push the skin aside was so simple, yet so magnificent. Perhaps we craved more to be understood rather than being loved, to understand the vulnerability behind every confession, the growth of every movement, the association of connection and progress and the acknowledgment of existing.

and besides all your knowledge, philosophy and intelligence, you never figured out the act of being yourself, you didn't understand how you worked, why you acted like you did and why the thoughts were circling through your pretty head, but nanami did.

the way your fingertips carefully pulled on the simple bracelet around your wrist, the way you constantly yawed to get more oxygen into your lungs, the way you got quieter and your lips got tired of wearing your beautiful smile, the way your eyes followed every single movement to overanalyse every interaction and the way your cheeks blushed as you took small sips of your drink.

"mind if I steal my gorgeous woman for a moment?" Nanami interjected into the conversation of you and some other college’s with one of his charming smiles on his lips, as his he carefully placed his left hand onto your lower back, creasing the silky material of your elegant dress.

No one could ever refuse anything to nanami when he got that innocent charming smile on his lips, the kind of smile that holded his soul, the kind of smile that just needed three seconds to relieve the cruelty of the world and even if the light faded, his smile stayed.

"am I that transparent for you?" you whispered softly with an innocent smile on your lips while Nanami's hand stroked over your coccyx as he guided you outside, between the chatting people, out of the crowed room filled with stuffy air and the smell of alcohol. The other hand of Nanami rubbed over the little beard stubble, which his razor hadn’t caught and the charming grin didn’t faded as his eyes looked down to study you for a brief moment as he speaks up "you don’t need to tell me how you feel. I can see it for miles"

The loudness muffled after Nanami cautiously closed the glass patio door behind the two of you.

"I know it’s difficult for you when all these greedy looks are on you" the tall blonde man said as he watched you leaning your body slightly over the railing, admiring the landscapes and enjoying the calmness, away from all the people, letting yourself feel the comfort you needed.

Nanamin always rejected to be understood and being loved, yet he couldn’t help but fall the crucifixion of being loved by you, the torments of his mental awareness to differentiate the deed of the gods or the practical joke of the mischief devil, since you were everything he had ever prayed for, too good to be a gift of the gods and too innocent to be a sin of the devil. But if I’m between the spectacle of the world and the ever-changing state of things and the inherent fiction of everything, of the false importance exhibited by all realities, he always pleaded to wait to find you, in every myth and fiction, he dreamed among shadows and ruins, crawled through the coldest emptiness till the fullest ecstasy, just to find you.

You were terribly afraid of being known, yet desperate to be understood and Nanami was willing to learn every aspect about you.

"I know it's loud up here and way too bright for you" he mumbled against your scalp before he placed a gently kiss on top of your head, before he leans with his back against the railing studying the way the cold air blushes your cheeks and the dimmed light complimented your eyes.

Almost as if there was hiding a hint of absurdity, the tall man lost himself, forgetting who he was in this blurry reality while the intensity of sensation stunned his senses and all that was clear to him was you, the smudged dark eyeliner and rare blush on your cheeks, the fresh manicure and the elegant ring around your finger he had gifted to you as a promise, the messy hair and the little strands, which float around your face in the light wind. If you were a sin developed by the hands of the devil, Nanami would have fall on his knees and would make any agreement with the underworld, he didn't cared about how many love letters he must write for you, if he had to learn to play guitar to impress you, if he would have to read to you every night or if he had to work for the devil himself, he would do anything for you.

“sometimes I think you know me better than I know myself” a soft chuckle left your mouth, looking up through your dark lashes as your hands clenched around the cold railing and Nanami would've lied if he would denied the emotional chaos you caused inside of him as you looked at him with those eyes.

Obsessively, incessantly, perpetual and with maddering hunger he longed for your heart, manuscripts written down by his dreams about every movement you made to avoid his suffocation otherwise he would never stop talking about you, insane enough to believe it wasn´t enough to see you every moment with his clear consciousness, willing to never sleep again just so he wouldn't lose you from his sight. Nanami was never afraid of heights, yet this love seems so deep that he was afraid to fall, because you gave him something he can miss and now he knows forever what he'll miss when you leave.

A charming grin lifted the corners of his mouth as his thumb brushed over your little wrinkles around your lips “yet I don't know enough of you”

"You don't?" you mocked him jokingly, causing one of you dangerously gorgeous smiles lighting up your face, fading away these obstinate musical tones banging on the glass door as the tall blonde man nodded pensively and stroked with his thumb over your soft glossy lips, smudging a bit the lip gloss from your lips “You're full of passions and talent, yet to blind to see it in yourself, you hide so many beautiful words under your tongue, still you apologize for speaking at all and somewhere in your life someone broke your heart so deeply, that you're afraid of loving yourself, but even if I know a hundred versions of you, there are at least a thousand left to love”

The wrinkles around the corner of your lips illuminate as you placed a gentle kiss on the fingertip of his thumb before he raised his voice calmly again “You know which version I like the most till now is the one that still dances even when the song is long over and the one who, when the world is gray again, paints everything in color again with a brush, who never leaves, even when we argue”

“maybe, there is a version you won't love” you whispered while you looked through your lashes into his eyes and a raucous laugh escaped his mouth as he shook his head “it's so exaggeratedly easy to love you”

And there it was, a kiss so delicate yet vulnerable, godly with closed eyes, helplessly almost like a miserable misery, yet you both had become ravenously hungry for the taste of each other that you weren’t afraid to get burned, two mouths melted into each other, not afraid to swallow the poison of the devil.

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theodorecanaryhood · 1 month

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The Tattoo Artist & the Artist: finale

Part X

Jason Todd x Male reader

Warning: language and unprotected sex

The day had come that Jason could finally have you as his forever, a day he never thought he’d see.

Jason stood as he did his bow tie up and put his jacket in, his tux sat on his skin like it would bury itself in his memory.

Roy walked in as he placed his cuff links on, grabbing Jason’s attention.

‘Is my tie straight?’ He asked, Jason nodded with a soft smile.

‘You look handsome’ Jason spoke softly, his best friend took his hand.

‘You and y/n are finally getting married’ Roy smiled.

Jason flashed back to the first time he met you, a seemingly shy guy who brought the art studio across the street.

The first time Jason kissed you, the first time he lay with you. Jason never wanted to be without you again.

‘You boys ready?’ Bruce asked as he appeared in the doorway.

Jason nodded as he seemed a little nervous, Roy chuckled as he handed Jason a shot of tequila.

‘For the nerves’ Roy handed Jason the glass, Jason slammed the glass down after he downed the liquid.

The wedding was filled with music, smiles and love. A love so strong that it was felt in the air.

Jason had tears in his eyes as he saw you and placed your wedding ring on, you placing his. Jason was happy to finally call you his husband.

Bruce had tears in his eyes, tears filled with a sweet love. He saw this 15-year-old boy with anger issues, a death so brutal. A man filled with nothing but rage. And now, Jason stood with a smile on his face on his wedding day.

Flower petals were thrown over the two of you as you walked holding hands, Jason opened the car door for you as he drove the two of you away.

The first night as husbands was passionate, Jason had plans of not getting any sleep until his body gave into exhaustion.

‘Fuck, I love you so much’ Jason whispered into a sweet kiss.

A kiss that was welcomed as you began taking Jason’s clothes off, him taking yours off.

Running your hands down Jason’s body as his shirt slid to the floor, your hair tangled between Jason’s fingers.

Jason’s tongue was deep in your mouth as you felt yourself rise in your pants, soft music playing in the background while scented candles flickered dimly.

You lay with Jason in the bed as he worshipped your body, his tongue, lips and teeth left no part of your body left untouched.

‘Jason’ you breathed out as Jason sunk his face into your chest, leaving a trace of sweet kisses down your body.

Before you could get a word out, your hard shaft was in Jason’s mouth. He worked you professionally as he buried his fingertips into your hips.

You threw your head back into the pillow as Jason sucked your soul, your hard and throbbing shaft was begging to be released.

‘Baby, I’m coming’ you yelled as Jason took your load into his mouth.

Jason swallowed your seed as he slid to your face, kissing you sweetly. Placing his hands on your face, rolling you both over.

You returned the favour generously as you began kissing down Jason’s body. Licking the head of his throbbing manhood.

‘God, y/n’ Jason panted as he tangled your hair in his fingers.

Deep throating was something you surprised Jason with a while back, early in the relationship. You allowed him to discover that you don’t have a gag reflex.

Jason rolled you onto your front, purposely avoiding coming yet as he wanted to have as long with you as possible.

Jason slid into you as he dug his fingertips into your butt. You buried your face into the pillow as to muffle the screams of pleasure.

Hours of pleasure, hours of love, hours of calling out each other’s names.

Jason lay with you in his arms, a pure love smile on his face. Your lips were Jason’s favourite escape.

‘You’re a great husband’ you smiled as Jason beamed.

Some time had passed as Jason sat, arm around your shoulders as you both sat together.

You both decided to make a quick escape to Wayne Manor, not seeing the family in a while and needing a catch up.

Jason placed a hand on your head as he leant in and kissed your head, Bruce smiled as he witnessed his son and son in law. Affection wasn’t something Bruce had seen Jason show.

‘So, how’s the new house?’ Dick asked, sipping his coffee.

‘It’s good, got some new furniture’ you replied as Jason played with your hair.

It had felt like so long since you’d seen everyone, being part of the family felt so special to you. Knowing you’d been excepted so much.

The sounds of talking around you both as Jason held your hand, across the table as the sun shon through the window. The sunlight bounced off your wedding rings as Jason beamed with admiration for you.

Life had taken such a great turn for Jason over the last few years, a life that seemed so dark and clouded.

You felt so lucky to wake up next to Jason everyday, Jason felt he was lucky too.

It was going to be a peaceful and beautiful life, forever. As long as Jason had you, he was where he needed to be.

#red hood #gotham #red hood fanfiction #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd #gay wedding #jason todd x male reader #red hood x male reader

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novthewolf · 9 months

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Two’s company, three’s a family - Part three

Summary : As a cupid, an angel of love, your mission was to make sure everyone was paired up with the right person. Yet you couldn’t get your two most ancient clients to finally end up together. And despite the 6,000 years spent on the case, you couldn’t bring yourself to give them up, not oblivious to the reason.

Pairing : Aziraphale x Crowley / GN!Reader x Crowley / GN!Reader x Aziraphale (polyamorous relationship).

Parts : First - Previous - Next

Masterlist : Here

Warnings : Reference to "Red Flags" (Tom Cardy), quick s3x mention, non-con touching (not s3xual), depiction of anxiety, foul language, slow burn, english isn’t my first language.

Words : +3k

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The sweet light of a summer day pierced through the branches of the surrounding trees. The sky was unexpectedly blue, and the air was just starting to heat up, tingling your exposed skin. It was so enjoyable; as you basked in the environment, you were almost forgetting your clients.

You were currently sitting on the storefront awning across the cafe where the date was occurring. It was going really well, and their bond was amazing too. It took you six years to find your client's perfect match. You won't deny the fact that you were picky; however, you weren't going to apologise for it either. If your clients had to spend their whole lives with someone, you should at least try not to pair them up with the most infuriating person that God ever made.

But dang, you had to admit, she was fantastic ! They were literally made for each other. They were so in sync, it was truly adorable. When two people were obviously made for each other, it was your duty to make sure Eternity would welcome both of them. Never to be apart. You rubbed your stretched-skinned right arm.

Ooh, you're going to get so much love from this, your numbers gonna skyrocket...

You send a wave of curiosity your client's way, inciting him to question her more; the more interest he shows in her, the more pleased she'll be. He reached out and rested his hand on hers.

"By the way, do you have a favourite film ?" He asked, eager to see if they also had the same cinematographic tastes. She was so cultured and sophisticated; it was really refreshing to encounter someone of her kind. Yeah, she was one of a kind, alright. Oh, how could you have foreseen what she was about to answer ?

"Oh yes, just basically the best movie of all ! A masterpiece of art, really. You may have heard of it." She was trying to hide just how much she was yearning to scream the name of that movie. Anxious even, for some reason.

"Mmh. Interstellar ?" He tried to guess playfully. But she was jubilant; you knew she wouldn't be able to play along. You frowned, becoming fairly worried, wondering if she would implode.

"Mh-hm ! Wrong !" She giggled, ecstatic. Now you're just scared. You gulped in sync with the client as she stood up and slammed her hands on the metal table. As she exclaimed, finally freed from her own guilt, you thought that some people should have a warning of their own. For the good of society.

"It's Human Centipede !" She clapped and beamed.

Oh, for the love of God... Obviously, your guy was rightfully alarmed since he believed he'd never see his mom again. You left your perch and flew their way; right now, you had to prevent him from running away. Both of your hands settled on his shoulder.

"Custom disguise was truly a highlight, but I mostly liked it for the plot." How can someone so cute fill you with so much dread ? Although your hold was already firm, you couldn't help but twist Arlo's shoulders. Yes, Arlo was his name, but he was closer to Denver, personality-wise.

"I'm not quite familiar with the plot, actually." Oh, you poor unfortunate soul. He didn't know, or maybe he'd rather live in full and hurtful denial his entire life than relive that abominable day when his soul was shattered into a million pieces... Mmh, he probably just didn't know.

"In a nutshell, a German doctor sews three people's asses to their mouths." Her wide brown eyes seemed to belong to the deadliest apex predator. Send help, please. Blinking was out of the question; turn your eyes away for a second, and she'll stab you right in the throat. You darted your eyes towards the butter knife. You exclaimed sharply and miraculously removed it. Better safe than sorry.

You exhaled; you felt so puzzled right now. Every human deserves love, despite having a passion for obscure and particular forms of art. But was this truly the best person for him ? The last thing you wanted was their misery. What if her interests were real signs of psychopathy ? Of future abuse ? She didn't give the impression of abusive behaviour.

You squinted your eyes and started analysing her heart through your own. Contrary to humans, your heart was nested in the very centre of your chest and could be used as a filter. Usually you'd pick up the scent—yes, every emotion had a smell, and thankfully it was faint when you weren't using your heart—guide it towards your chest, and find what you were looking for. Your heart is a great multi-function machine and an amazing tool to achieve your goals; you were thankful for it.

A relieved sigh passed your lips when you didn't sense any brutality or cruelty. And what you felt was passion, ambition, eagerness to start something new, quite a bit of lust, and straight-up horniness.

Mmh, you had to admit that this demon of lust was a talented lad.

"The narrative of character growth comes from a genius mind ! The Human Centipede is a wonderful tour de force; you should watch it. Or, we could watch it together, and I'll show all the little details."

You rolled your eyes and smirked. She was just quirky, but she was looking forward to hitting it off with him. But, still, you wanted it to be his choice; you wouldn't force someone into a relationship and spend eternity with someone they didn't belong with. But it might be the only true relationship they will ever have. You looked over to him and were honestly surprised to see him blush and watch her with such attention. Alright. You shrugged. His mind was sent.

You nodded, even though you knew he couldn't see you. You flew away, leaving enough distance to let them take off themselves. You stretched your arm, aimed, and silently hoped it was not morbid curiosity on his part. And finally shot.

Yay ! Right in the hearts!

Nice shot; you praised yourself.

They flinched and smiled brightly. The deal is sealed. Suddenly, the clocks in the watchmaker store struck eleven a.m. You struggle to swallow. Alright, here goes nothing.

You went down to the street corner and called out the invisibility spell. You walked casually through the street but couldn't help but overhear the lovebirds conversation.

"My dream wedding would 100% be themed "Human Centipede"." She laughed so joyfully. Everyone around was looking so distraught but didn't dare say anything. Mmh.

"That would be so cool! Imagine just how much we could save on the catering bill." He burst out in laughter; it was hilarious.

Good luck with that, Adriel...

And that's another wedding you will not attend. Thank God they weren't in your department anymore.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

You had arrived before Aziraphale, so you would have time to report to Chamuel. Yep, the Archangel of Love himself. No pressure... You weren't the same rank as Aziraphale; he was a Principality. You ? Well, not anymore. You were simply under the order of an Archangel, not having a specific rank, really... Jophiel was your boss, to be exact, Chamuel's subordinate and bounded. So meeting up just one Archangel was already a big deal.

You rode the escalator while poking random fingers on your chest to calm your nerves and erase all of your emotions. You hoped they wouldn't notice the change. You hoped Chamuel didn't show up during the reunion concerning the Anti-Christ. You hoped that everything would be alright.

You exhaled for a long time, entering the endless building of light. Steadily, you made your way towards your bosses. Impassive. Calm. You spotted Chamuel and your principality, and you stopped a few feet away.

"Hello Y/N ! How are you today ?" What a dashing smile he had—too white to be human. His deep green eyes were scanning your own. His attention was nerve-wracking.

"I am fine; thank you, Chamuel." Your tone was as neutral as you could manage. Your posture was rigid, trying to stay as still as possible.

"I too hope you two are doing well."

"We are, thank you... Now, how's your heart ? Has it caused you any problems ?" His pale hand suddenly patted your mid-chest, too rough for your liking. You flinched but didn't dare say anything. Mmh. Behind him, Jophiel was looking at you up and down, keeping her distance. She still gave you a brief, tight smile.

"I am fine, thank you." You sounded straight-up robotic.

"Good !" He clapped his hands together and shook them. He took his place beside the dark-blond angel, his vivid blond hair harmonising with hers.

"Your recent results have been quite impressive, Y/N. Very good fuel for the upcoming war". Jophiel praised you while never fully looking your way.

You simply bowed your head, despite how geedy you actually felt. She didn't praise a lot, so you were delighted.

"Even from just a few minutes ago ! You are doing an excellent job. I appreciate the constant flow of love; it almost keeps the Bound together." He laughed heartily. You bowed your head again; you knew he didn't mean it.

The Bound is what holds everything together. Literaly everything. Earth, humans, animals ect. And Love is the fuel it needs to thrive. But when Armageddon starts, all cupids shall stop the love, let the Bound unfold, and fight along side the other angels, filled with the... ugh, power of Love. So cheesy... Help.

"Our sources have also confirmed the punishment of two demons who were prohibited from working on Earth for the remaining years; great job ! The least nuisance in the way, the better.."

Despite his sinister aura, he did appreciate your work. You just couldn't bring yourself to be happy about it.

"Now !" He slapped his hand on your shoulder and made you turn around. You grunted quietly. "I believe you must attend another meeting, right ? I wouldn't want you to be late. Go on." He pushed you forward, and you had to catch yourself before reuniting with the floor.

"So... Darachiel and Requiel are up next..." Jophiel said it absent-mindedly, already forgetting your encounter.

Brief and concise, exactly what you prayed for. As you were leaving, you passed Darachiel and Requiel, on their way to their report. They observed you from afar, doing their best not to get too close to you. You just stared right in front of you. You didn't want to hear their gossip. It was almost as if their mouths had only been designed to talk behind your back. You teeth clenched. Focus.

You'll just have to deal with three more archangels, convince them the boy is turning into a saint, and hope they will not mention your role as a cupid. It didn't really bother me that Azirphale and Crowley might find out about your job; it's just that you were quite... private and wanted to make sure they wouldn't realise what your mission was. Be cautious.

You didn't want to lie to them. You sighed. Nevertheless, you comforted yourself, remembering that you wouldn't be alone against them.

Still, your heart echoed through your ears; the drumming was hurting your ribs and chest, like every fibre of your bones wanted to crawl their way out of your throat. You kept walking. Your breath was laboured, and your eyes were watering, blurring the awful images that rolled before you. Your gaze fell down, shielding yourself from the memories and those fucking intrusive fights. Mmh..

"Y/N ?"

The sweetest feather touch grazed your forearm, the concerned voice abruptly grounding you back into the dazzling reality of Heaven. Lost, you revolved slowly, and your pleading eyes searched for reassurance.

"Oh, Y/N..." Aziraphale whispered softly to not startle you.

"I'm sorry, I just.. I've never..-" You had to hold back a sob. The blond shushed, caressing the side of your arms.

"I know, dear... It's a lot." He smiled at you, tender. He delicately lifted your chin to meet your eyes. "But I'm right beside you; you won't have to face them on your own. You are the most intrepid angel I've met; you will blow us all away!" He jested.

"Mmh." You gave him a sheepish smile for an answer.

Angel ? No, he was quite devilish, alright.

"Come now." He gestured forward into the meeting zone, not touching you. He walked beside you. "It's going to be just fine. I must confess, I've fooled them quite a lot before." His confession caused me to smirk as well.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"Mmh..." Aziraphale moaned, his mouth full of cream. You never thought you could bless someone through your Parfait. Your recipe was Aziraphale's favourite dessert, which he desperately tried to copy but could never get right.

Your afternoon was spent at Aziraphale's bookshop, sitting cross-legged on the comfiest couch, reading your latest acquisition. The anxiety was slowly draining its way out your veins. You turned another page and smiled softly. You have loved astronomy ever since you were created. You didn't have as much knowledge about space as Crowley, but the beauty enticed you so much that you couldn't help but be saddened by its upcoming destruction. You also cooked for the angel to really thank him.

"It's truly fantastic, Y/N." He took another spoonful. "You're sure you don’t want to share your secret ? Confess and feel even better." He teased.

"Confess, huh ? I should rather put a copyright on my recipe, you little thief."

Eden, thankfully on your side, was pushing Aziraphale's thigh, sticking her tongue out to get a lick.

"No, Eden, we were not talking about you- No !" He lifted his arm way up. If he thought it would stop your mini cow, he was deeply mistaken. She put all her efforts into her desperate attempt to steal the sweet, climbing on his leg. Aziraphale made a muffled squeal; Eden had her hooves digging in his flesh.

"Help..." He begged in a strained voice.

You giggled and got up. You took your time, really, dusting a shelf and bouncing quickly on your left leg. His eyes were almost stern as he observed your smug face. You waited a few seconds. You smiled innocently, petted Eden's head, and snatched the glass from his hand.

"Oh ! Y/N !" Alright, that gasp was just comical. Your lips let out a joyful giggle, and you jogged away, tasting the dessert with your fingertip.

"Mh.. Yum ! What a talented cook I am." You contemplated your work. Still, you saw the two hungry fellas in the corner of your eye. Too emotionally drained to play, you turned around and handed back the dessert.

"Thank you." He shook his head but smiled gratefully.

Eden nudged your right arm, demanding a treat as well. As you tossed it to her, you spotted Aziraphale stare your way. You stared back, confused. Caught in the act, he didn't back down and directly asked you what was on his mind.

"Did you hurt your arm ? I never noticed that scar before."

Oh.

You looked down your right arm and saw the tiniest bit of scar sneaking out of your pulled-up sleeve. You covered it back down.

You never thought he would notice that.

"I got cut by a demon claw. It never really healed properly."

"Maybe I could help... Let me see." He reached for your arm. You didn't mean to flinch, but still, you backed away.

"It's okay, Aziraphale. Really, it's fine."

You were charging your charm to chase him off, but the door suddenly burst open, and Crowley entered like he owned the place. He noticed the two of you, and his face went stolid. The three of you stood here for a minute or two before the angel broke the weird silence.

"Hello Crowley, How was your day ?"

The demon found his scrunched expression back.

"Awful. As expected... Some people just apparently can't believe that humans can be bad enough to end up in hell without having to be murderers! Ugh."

He sat nonchalantly on his designated chair and went limp to try and get rid of all of his frustration. He hated having to visit Hell, as one could understand. He didn't belong there. You don’t belong anywhere. You cringed. Mmh. He weakly waved in your direction.

"How about you guys ?" He hummed.

"Mmh, well, Azi' will tell you. I should get going !" You forced a smile and reached for Eden, petting her to calm her. You felt Aziraphale's eyes on you while Crowley tensed up slightly.

"Already ? Have I scared you away or something ?" He asked.

"Oh, don't be silly, Crowley; of course not ! Eden's tired; I've got to put her to bed."

"Well, can't she use the backroom- ?"

"Oh, by the way." Whoosh, quick, unnoticeable charm. "Here ! I finished it !" You threw your book on his lap, earning a grunt. "I hope you'll show me a real one day." The suggestion was true, but you knew it wouldn't happen. You didn't have the right to. Mmh.

"Bye bye ! Smooches !" You sang your way out of the bookshop under the concerned and puzzled looks of your clients.

You waited until you were around the corner before finally collapsing against the facade. Overwhelming—yeah, that's the perfect word to summarise your day. You brought your hands up to your head and rubbed your face. What am I so upset about? Why was your heart aching, burning your skin away? Why did their stares and comments feel like daggers in your back? You just wish you weren't alone. The light did nothing to warm up your frozen face as tears threatened to roll down. Mmh...

No... you didn't want to go back to this... You just couldn't.

The firm grip you had on your shirt snatched a bit of skin and twisted it. It had at least the benefit of shaking you enough to act.

You exhaled sharply and slapped your own cheek to knock some sense into yourself. You have no time. Eden was still rubbing her head on your leg when you bent down to kiss her forehead.

Alright, now shit was about to get real.

You straightened up, activated your blindness spell, and manifested your bow and arrows. Taking off from the ground and positioning yourself to get a good view of your clients You aimed with your right arm and lined up. Your breath was taken away by the glimpse of a scar that shone in the disappearing sun. You frowned, growled, and struck. Upper arms.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

I guess we all have to learn about our own back story, right Y/N ?

Anyway ! I promise we will see more of the ineffable husbands in the next part. You just needed a little bit of time for yourself.

Hope you enjoyed it ! Bye !

Parts : First - Previous - Next

Tag list : @legendary-maddie @kpop-athena @drugs-for-memes @emo-queer-boi @cunning-girl @mochikofi @brain-has-left @cup-of-tee007 @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @somekale08 @liyacreate @msyolocat-blog

#good omens #good omens s2 #david tennant #micheal sheen #neil gaiman #crowley x reader x aziraphale #aziraphale x reader #crowley x aziraphale #crowley x reader #ineffable husbands #twoscompanythreesafamily

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itsartlee · 2 months

Text

So... I may have redesigned The Lamb.. AGAIN- BUT HEY Now they are with Narinder's design!

I know the art isn't GREAT but I tried I swear I tried! Also wanted to make Lamb a little chubby, but the Chub eventually turns to muscle but not tonned muscles.

Info on Lamb and Narinder Below

Lambert Info

The Lamb, or as I have heard people call them Lambert, started out as a farmer's child. They were a big Mama's kid, a little too hyper at times, but hey, that's what chores on the farm are for. Lambert loved learning to cook with their Mama. They mostly worked in the weat fields, but then the genocide of the Lamb's happened when they were about 18. Lambert saw their entire village get destroyed, and their mom and Pa, along with siblings, die. Lambert was able to get away for a while. Other Lamb's at the time were still getting hunted. They had nightmares a lot during this time. They were finally caught at the age of 25 and sent to death, literally. The Lamb than was told to start a Cult in The One Who Wait's name. The Lamb, in my version, only excepted because they wanted to survive. Survival for their creatures, that and a bit of revenge weighed on their mind to slaughter the creatures that slaughtered their people. The Lamb tried to make the cult more like a safe haven than anything. Yes their were times when sacrifices had to be made, but it was mostly peaceful. At first their were a lot of decenters, but The Lamb only retaught them. The Lamb was soft, lenient. It helped the cult's numbers grow. After a couple of centuries, the Lamb got used to their role. No longer nervous when giving sermons, better at helping followers, better housing, dying a lot less, sometimes only dying in stupid ways to see their God, killing hertics, and witness getting easier. However, the Bishops? Now, that was hard. Each one is more difficult than the last. But eventually, they did it. Their Cult bigger. The Lamb changed. At first a sweet and kind soul, now a blood stained killer of gods. They expected that would be it. Narinder would be fear... but Narinder needed a sacrifice. It was than they knew they should have listened to Shamura... a scarfical Lamb was all they were. So they became a traitor and fought Nardiner almost dying, but in the end.. The Lamb one... they still held that softness and love for their former god. They spared Naridner, and Narinder was furious. It was not easy to get Narinder to settle down to not destroy The Cult to nothing. But after a long time they were able to at least calm him down, and stop him from trying to kill The Lamb. It was around this time that Lambert learned of a Mystic seller, how they were now a infant god, and how the Bishops of old were stuck in purgatory. The Lamb felt... bad for the old faith. Yes they slaughtered their kind but after learning their story with Narinder? They felt bad for both sides. So now they are trying to right their wrongs.

Narinder Info:

He was the second of the Bishop Siblings. Grew up being close to Shamura, and did get along with Heket sneaking her food, but as he got older he god bolder. Wanting change, but death never changes, one day after years of pent up rage and jealously, He snapped and attacked his siblings, taking Leshy's eye, taking Heket's throat, taking Kallamar's ears, and his older sibling Shamura's head. As one would say "See no evil, Speak no evil, hear no evil, and think no evil.." Narinder was than locked up in his domain. Until a Lamb came. The Lamb did their job if not annoyingly being nice to their followers. But when The Lamb came to be slaughtered, they refused. First Baal fell than Aym, than Narinder. The Lamb tried to get him to join their 'community' but Narinder was wrathful and attacked. It took a while for Narinder to get use to everything. Being somewhat mortal. The Lamb never gave up being nice it was... annoying. But eventually Narinder calms down. Him and The Lamb eventually work together.. but now.. his siblings need to be slaughtered once more.

#cult of the lamb lambert #narilamb #cult of the lamb narinder #cult of the lamb fanart #cult of the lamb #devotionswitch

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