Preparing For The Full Moon🌕💫

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋

summary · a typical night of lovemaking with your boyfriend takes an untypical turn when you decide to accept rather than decline an incoming call from his best friend.

content · NSFW MDNI, dom!bottom!reader, sub!top!armin (ft. the amazon position, my beloved<3), sub!eren, a pinch of eremin, phone sex (sort of), praise, degradation, humiliation, elements of exhibitionism and voyeurism, pet names (darling, sweet thing, baby), laughter, banter and bad flirting during sex, intended as an armin x reader NOT an eren x reader (reader just bullies eren the entire time lol), reader and armin fuck nasty while eren gets off to it basically

wc · 4.7k

notes · hello! i haven’t written smut in a hot minute lol. this has been sat in my drafts for months but i finished the rest in the last, like, day lmao. anyway, this is DISGUSTINGLY self-indulgent but i hope you enjoy! <3

Armin’s phone buzzes on the bedside table, screen lighting up with the name of the caller.

Usually, he is always quick to answer, only one, two rings max, but that’s a little hard to do considering you’re currently fucking any and all sense of self right out of his body.

Nonplussed, you reach for the vibrating phone, a smile forming when you read the name of the caller. You slow your movements to a stop too, which finally pulls Armin out of the foggy daze he’s in, enough for him to recognise his ringtone.

Before he can voice the question, you tell him, “It’s Eren.”

Armin swallows the drool that’s gathered in his mouth. “I’ll– I’ll have to call him back.” He gently squeezes your thighs, bracketing his own, and groans. “Later,” he adds softly as his eyes flutter shut, unable to stay open.

Alluring as your boyfriend is, so vulnerable and open, with his sweaty skin shining like honey in the dim light of your bedroom, your mind is unable to resist wandering... Replaying all the conversations you’ve had with Armin about your shared attraction to Eren, the transparency in Eren’s own reciprocated feelings, the lingering stares, the hard gulps, the ‘platonic’ flirting...

Your fingers tiptoe up his chest, a playful gesture, not uncommon for even the bedroom, but still it piques Armin’s interest enough for him to reopen his eyes. “Why later?” you muse, grinning like a fox. “Why not now?”

As if processing your words, Armin blinks, hard, then parts his lips to reply, but words fail to reach his brain, much less his mouth. And so he stares at you, like the unspoken answer couldn’t be any more obvious because it couldn’t. Armin is quite clearly busy right now, and he’s sure that whatever reason Eren has for calling him can afford to wait, at least until he’s– well, finished.

...But you don’t seem to agree.

You go ahead and offer the phone to him as if it’s commonplace to do so in these circumstances, and Armin’s eyes widen, his lips part and close again, but he makes no further effort to protest or stop you.

“It’d be rude to keep him waiting,” you say, “and if you don’t hurry, I’ll just pick up for you.”

A few seconds, a pause, drifts into place then; a chance to decline the call or say the safeword or just do anything to show that he doesn’t want to continue — but Armin just chews on his bottom lip, eyes casting down, indigo under the shadow of his lashes, and it’s all the answer you need. You’ve always loved that about him; he may look and act like a blushing virgin, but here, with you, he can’t help being your dirty little pervert.

With a satisfied smirk, you accept the call and hover it over Armin’s ear. Your boyfriend catches his breath, but as soon as he opens his mouth to speak, you’re resuming your actions from before and knocking that breath back out again.

“Fucking finally,” Eren’s playfully exasperated voice crackles through the phone speaker. “Thought you were never gonna pick up, dude. What took you so long? You always answer on the second ring.”

Armin glances at you, as though you might be able to supply him with a believable enough excuse for his behaviour. Despite those puppy eyes, you know he doesn’t need your help — not that you’d give it to him if he did, though. You enjoy seeing him struggle a bit sometimes. How could you not, when he always makes the cutest expressions? And besides, diamonds can only form under pressure, right? So all you do is give him a small, encouraging flick of your head. Go on. Answer him.

Armin takes a deep breath. “S–sorry,” he starts. His sweaty palms nervously massage the flesh around your hips. “My phone was, um, in– in the other room.”

“More like in another building,” Eren jokes and chuckles to himself. Armin probably would have laughed too, if he wasn’t so busy trying to keep his voice in. “Anyway, I just wanted to know if you’re still down for drinks on Friday? We never actually made official plans and usually you get back to me by now but– well, I know you’ve been busy so I thought I’d, y’know, call and check.”

You notice Armin regaining his bearings at the reminder of his plans with Eren, and out of jealousy or sadism, or perhaps a bit of both, you lift yourself up, until the tip of Armin’s cock is on the brink of slipping out of you, and forcefully drop back down.

Your poor boy barely manages to capture the noise he makes behind his hand in time, the other leaping up to claw at your shoulder. His face screws up, eyes and lips squeezing tightly, but you don’t stop there. You lean over to his sensitive neck to nip and kiss the already marked-up skin, all the while making fast, shallow thrusts. The lewd sound of your motions, definitely audible to Armin and potentially to Eren, makes Armin’s cheeks fill with blood. Behind his hand, he suppresses another sound.

“Hello? You still there?”

You’re lucky enough, for whoever’s sake, that Eren is as oblivious as he is.

“Yes,” Armin says, trying to stabilise his breathing. “Mm– mhm! Friday sounds g–good, yeah.”

Unfortunately, Eren is not oblivious enough.

“Is everything, uh... okay? On your end?” Eren asks, and perhaps to anyone else, it would have sounded like a genuine question, but having known Eren for a while now, almost as long as Armin, you notice the uncharacteristic quiver in his voice — one that seems less concerned and more nervous.

You hand Armin the phone then, confusing him for a moment as to why you suddenly decided to give it to him. He’s about to speak into it, to respond to Eren, but that’s when you lift up again and drag Armin down the bed by the legs, a faint noise of surprise escaping him, before raising them up so his knees are pressed to his chest.

He tries to regain his composure despite the compromising position. “Uh, yeah, I’m–” But then you’re sinking back down on him completely, and he moans out at a volume that a part of him hopes Eren doesn’t hear — but that another, more significant part of him hopes he does.

“I’m okay,” he finishes, a little high-toned and not much louder than his moan from seconds ago.

“Are you sure?” Eren’s voice cracks. He hurriedly clears his throat. “Cause you, um, you– you just sound...” He laughs awkwardly and you know in an instant that you’ve got him right where you want him; that his relaxed demeanour is being tested, chipped away at by Armin’s suspicious sounds and staggered speech.

As if on cue — you still aren’t sure if it was on purpose or not — Armin moans again, louder this time, so that it’s painfully unmissable. The curse word Eren mutters under his breath right after is a little less unmissable, but you’re much too hyper-aware from the adrenaline and endorphins to let it slip past you.

You take the phone back again. “Pretty, right?” you say, right into the mic, and you physically feel the way Armin shudders at your intervention, how his sweaty skin grows goosebumps all over.

There’s silence on the other end, but you aren’t so easily discouraged.

“Don’t back out now, Eren,” you insist. “Go on, finish your sentence. You were about to say that Armin sounds pretty, right?”

He remains quiet for a few seconds longer. Only his breathing is audible, so you can hear the way it shakes, the way he licks his lips. “Something like that,” he mutters, voice dry.

You hum. “And I’ll bet his sounds have made you really hard, huh?” The muscles in Armin’s thighs helplessly jump under your weight. “Bet you wanna touch yourself to them, don’t you, Eren?”

On the opposite end of the phone, Eren’s breath hitches. His face is unbearably hot, like lava under his skin. He and Armin are close, sure. Always have been. They’ve done some things together before, when drunk, lonely or just curious, but this? This is different. You’re here now, and something about your presence has Eren’s thoughts fizzling into static.

“I asked you a question, Eren,” you say, stern yet somehow casual, bored, as if such authoritative phrases came naturally to you — and suddenly Eren is hearing Armin’s name in place of his, imagining you and Armin in different scenarios, in ways he knows he should never imagine his best friend and his partner, yet which could never be so vivid with anybody else. Images of you fucking Armin, pulling his hair, looking down at him with a misleading merciful gaze; Armin tied up, gagged and blindfolded, with erotic toys strapped to his body, like the girls in those porn video thumbnails Eren typically avoids; tears on pale cheeks, big blue eyes with fair eyelashes, a pink tongue and two fingers sliding across it, deeper and deeper into a gagging, o-shaped mouth.

Then those eyes melt into sea green, tears form on dark lashes, slide down skin slightly more olive-toned, past a jaw that’s more defined...

Eren combs his fingers through his loose hair, trying to catch the breath he didn’t realise was getting away from him.

“Are you gonna be a good boy and answer me?” you urge further at Eren’s skeptically long silence, with a smirk that’s wide enough to be heard in your voice. “Or should I just hang up and leave you to take care of that boner all on your own?”

Eren lets out a small — very, very small — and involuntarily whine, so subtle that if it wasn’t for the vibrations in the back of his throat, he might not have realised he made it, or that it came from him at all. He wants to argue — “Boner? What are you talking about? Don’t be so full of yourself.” — but he doesn’t need to glance down to know you’re right.

“D–don’t hang up,” Eren says, curt and a little unsteady. Humiliation rises in him like hot air at the sound of his own desperation, oblivious to how he’s playing right into your hand.

You smile, absentmindedly caressing Armin’s shoulders and torso, a wordless way of reminding him you’re still paying attention to him, but also a silent demand to stop squirming. “So bossy,” you say, like you’re scolding a child. “A ‘please’ would be nice, you know.”

The true nature of your words swells under the surface — an underlying threat. Not everything is as it seems in the world, and this is not just a suggestion or a statement, nor a throwaway thought that you happened to voice out loud. This is an order.

Whether or not Eren obeys, however, is a different story. He casts his gaze down to his lap, where the outline of his hard cock is visible through his sweatpants, along with a dot of precum, soaked through two layers and much too soon for what can be considered normal. He wonders what you would say at such a sight, what kind of expression you’d make — but that simple wonder is really just yearning in disguise, and Eren decides then, that complying is the only way he can get remotely close to satisfying that yearning.

He couldn’t disobey if he wanted to — and he really didn’t want to.

So, “Please,” he finally says. Less reluctantly this time.

“Atta boy!” you chirp, though only in a partially condescending tone. You’re sure that given Eren’s personality, he’d typically be fighting back a little more, flashing a bit more attitude or snark, but — whether it’s you, Armin, the situation or some combination of those things — something must have his head too clouded with arousal to try denying himself this.

Beneath you, Armin whines.

You turn your focus back to him. “Is my boy getting impatient? Or jealous, maybe?” you tease, caressing the apple of his cheek with the backs of your knuckles.

His eyes shutter closed as he leans into your touch and whines again, further back in his throat, but loud enough that you’re certain his phone still picks up on it. “Please,” he says, delicately, as if trying to find his voice, or perhaps the courage to speak at all.

Armin is unfortunately your weak spot and with Eren at your disposal, to mess with and be cruel to, you lack the heart to tease your lover any further.

“I’m sorry for neglecting you, darling.” You lean down and kiss him gently. “I’m here, I’m listening. Tell me what you need.”

His face glows pink; he hesitates.

You catch on.

“It’s okay, don’t be shy,” you soothe him, petting his hair. With your other hand, you make the calculated decision to bring the device closer to your mouth. “Eren needs to know how to be a good, obedient boy, after all–” You trail your fingers down the contours of Armin’s cheek to his chin and tenderly hold it– “and who better to demonstrate than you, my sweet thing?”

Across the line, the breath suspended in Eren’s throat, that he’s been holding back in fear of interrupting the scene he feels so ashamed for listening to, suddenly sputters out of him like gas out of a clogged car exhaust. Because, fuck, he was not prepared to hear you say his name just then. To suddenly make it personal; to swing open the door on this private, intimate, closed-door moment between you and your boyfriend, his best friend.

He wasn’t but he should have been. He’s heard and witnessed enough about your dynamic with Armin, as well as fallen victim to your friendly bullying and teasing himself, enough to know you’re not somebody who passes up an opportunity to see a person scramble and fluster. He should’ve known better than to think he could get away with being a passive player in this game of yours; that it was only a matter of time before you dragged him back, by the collar and leash you managed to lasso around his mind in the short duration of this call, and threw him out on the playing field as an active participant instead of a mere spectator.

Sure, you can’t actually see each other, but the phones in your hands are a constant reminder that every word comes with a plural audience and every miniscule sound may or may not be audible to the other side. That alone does its wonders, but here you are the gamemaster and you wield the power to do more; to take matters into your own hands, to bend, knead and shape them to your will. And you’re no amateur; you know exactly where to sink your fingers, how much pressure to apply and when to press harder or let go, so that you have not one, but two pliant putties in your palm.

“Now...” You sigh and shift your position on Armin’s cock. It garners the exact reaction you were aiming for — a warbled moan — and one that will surely leave its mark on the third pair of ears in the room with you. “Let me and Eren hear what you need, baby. Show us how a good boy uses his words.”

Armin sucks in his bottom lip and inhales a steadying breath through his nose. “I...” He swallows. “I want you to move.” His eyes, though hooded, noticeably drop to where the two of you are connected. “I want you to– to fuck me ‘til I can’t think. Please?” His voice is high, desperate, quivering. Clammy hands paw at your thighs. “I just can’t– I can’t take it. I can’t take waiting anymore, I need– I need you to fuck me and make me come, I need– y–you, I need you, please.”

A shaky groan interrupts through Armin’s phone.

You smirk, let the noise steep in the silence you make for it, to marinate in your own satisfaction, so he might think, for just a moment, that you didn’t notice, before leaning into the speaker.

“Eren,” you say innocently, and you think you hear a sharp breath in response, “I hope you’re not touching yourself right now.”

Nothing. Only background noise.

“You’re not, are you? You know that would be bad, right?” you continue. “And worse, if you lie to me about it.”

All you hear is a quiet exhale and the distant hum of what might be the AC.

You lower the phone. “Tell him why it would be bad, Armin.”

Armin’s eyes never once leave yours as he answers, “Because you didn’t give permission.”

“That’s right.” You smile at your boy and stroke his hair in approval. “Be honest then, Eren,” you resume. “Were you? Touching yourself?”

As you wait, you watch anticipation, glimmering with an edge of hope, grow in Armin’s eyes.

A heavy breath. Then, a low, gravelly, guilty, “Yeah.”

You emphasise your disappointment with a long sigh. “Mm. See, this is exactly why Armin has to set an example for you,” you reprimand, your hand still brushing over messy blond hair. “He’s doing you a favour and you’re not even paying attention? Just getting distracted by your cock like that’s all you can think about?” You drop a lock of hair that you were twirling around your finger. “It probably is, isn’t it?” you scoff. “God, you’re so fucking pathetic.”

Excitement passes through Eren like a tidal wave. His hand is still resting over his crotch, fingertips over his balls and palm under the head of his cock. He doesn’t quite understand why he’s so smitten by your words nor why he craves to hear more of them, but he does. And he’s willing to chase after it — to do anything, really — if it means he’ll get more.

“Hands off your dick, Eren.”

Another order, this one large and unsympathetic, leaving no room for doubt or defiance.

His hand retreats, shamefully, as if you were really there, as if you had caught him red-handed with your own two eyes and are now observing him to make sure he does as he’s told.

“I don’t care how hard you get or how bad you want to come. Your full, undivided attention stays on this phone call and nothing else,” you explain, as if you’re just talking about the weather. “Have I made myself clear?”

Eren swallows and hums his affirmation before quickly correcting himself.

“Yes.”

And unbeknownst to you, he has to cut himself off at the polite honorific that almost follows, the same way a person might catch themself about to call their teacher ‘Mom’. Somewhere in the firm, instructional tone and the ease with which you hand out commands, it felt like a natural addition, but not one that Eren, nor even his already dwindling dignity and pride, are ready for.

But rather than bestowing him the praise, the infamous pet name that you’ve been taunting him with, for his agreeable behaviour, you grace Eren with no more than a simple clinical, “Good,” and an air of finality followed by a thunk as you set the phone on the nightstand.

When you sit back to face Armin, with his hair all mussed, cheeks flushed and lips tinted red from constant worrying between his teeth, you’re unable to suppress your grin.

“Hey,” you whisper.

Armin grins back, full of teeth and that pinch in the corners of his eyes that you love. “Hi,” he returns with a chuckle. You steal a quick kiss amidst the soft laughter before hooking your thumbs behind the back of Armin’s knees and rocking forward and up. You both sigh with the movement, then again, when you move backward and down.

Armin’s head lolls back into the pillows, unfurling a column of pale skin before you. “Fuck,” he gasps out. His hand slaps down over one of yours and the other digs blunt nails into your waist.

You move again. Faster.

“Oh, fuck–”

Again. Harder.

Another cry, another expletive.

Hearing, seeing, experiencing your boyfriend rapt with ecstasy and useless to conceal it fills you with a glee that borders on manic.

“I love your reactions so much, Armin,” you rasp; a confession you’ve made countless times, every time, but that never fails to make your beloved blush. “And I love that they’re all mine. You’re so perfect, I love you so much.”

His next stream of sounds melts on your tongue as you kiss him eagerly. “Always so pretty and vocal,” you say in the breaths between yours and Armin’s panting mouths. “So good for me, aren’t you? Only for me. Only me and Eren get to know you like this.”

You grind down into Armin’s erratic thrusts until you’re all but fused together each time you meet. Your hands roam; crawling up to cradle his jaw, dragging down to toy with his nipples, jumping to his legs and pushing until he’s folded under your weight and clutching your hair in a wanton fist.

You reluctantly part from him to return to a more comfortable position above him while Armin’s hands clamber to secure his knees in place for you — always aiming to heed your every whim, even the ones you don’t voice. Your own hands layer over his as you slow down, drawing circles with your pelvis. Steady, smooth, sensual. Savouring the feeling of being so close to him.

You long to be closer, still.

So you move yourself up, off his cock, push his legs down and back onto the mattress, help him sit up. The entire time, Armin is just gazing up at you with glazed-over yet still-adoring eyes, up until you’re straddling his lap and he registers what you’re doing. Then he becomes your grateful devotee, chanting a breathy chorus of ‘Yes’s and ‘Thank you’s and encasing you in his arms as you welcome him back inside you. You hush his sweet cacophony with the hungry embrace of your lips, catching whimpers and fragments of love declarations, as you ride him with fervour. Every so often, you slow down and tease, just to prolong your unified bliss, but the sporadic fluctuations drive Armin insane.

He makes a noise like he’s overjoyed and on the verge of sobbing at the same time. “You’re– fuck, you’re so good to me, I love you, I– ah, shit, I love you so much!”

In Eren’s grip, the back of his phone is damp with his sweat. He’s addicted to the sound of you and Armin, the words you share, the moans you make together. He wants you both so carnally yet he couldn’t be happier than where he is now, forced to clench slippery fingers around the fabric of his sweatpants, far from where he’s aching for relief. Entirely dependent on his imagination to pair images with what he can hear. It’s cruel and heavenly. The more it drags on, the more he’s convinced he could come right there in his briefs. Untouched.

“Can– can I come? Please? I’m so close, I– I’m losing my fucking mind,” Armin babbles against your neck.

You nuzzle his temple while your fingers rake through his undercut. “Me too, let’s– let’s come together, okay?”

Armin nods frantically against your skin until tears breach the barrier of his waterline and he’s coming inside you with a muffled moan. You’re right there with him, head thrown back as your hands form fists in Armin’s hair. His arms, enveloped all the way around you, squeeze you from the tension of his full-body orgasm before falling slack at your sides.

As Armin slumps against the headboard, you catch your breath and reach for the phone. Over the sounds of pleasure earlier, you couldn’t tell if the line was silent or if your little voyeur of a friend had hung up. You’re pleased to see his name still aglow on the screen.

“Enjoy the show?” you quip. Though the unfitting conversational lilt to your voice throws Eren for a loop, that’s not why he chooses to remain quiet. Compliant as he’s been, he refuses to indulge your ego any more than he has to — but you expected that, so you simply move on to the question you did want answered.

“Did you keep your hands off your cock like I told you to?”

Armin perks up at that, curious as you are about what the answer will be. With bated breath, you both wait, but the tense silence is disturbed by Armin’s phone vibrating. You are about to ignore it until you recognise the sender of the message — and notice that it contains an attached image. Your eyebrows arch up your forehead at the bold gesture, but you tap the intriguing notification nonetheless.

Nestled just below the last exchange of innocent messages with his best friend, is a photograph of Eren Jaeger’s hard cock, straining against grey boxer briefs and lewdly framed by a circular patch of damp fabric.

“This is what it looks like... without you touching it?” you say, wearing a shit-eating smirk that is sure to translate into your tone.

“Yes,” Eren hisses through gritted teeth; a hybrid of embarrassed frustration and the ever-present need for release.

You giggle and show Armin the photo. “He sent us a fucking dick pic, Armin, can you believe that? Our little show must’ve really done a number on him, wow.”

The subject of your appraisal sighs and shakes his head at your mocking antics, but by the size of his pupils you can tell he isn’t unaffected by the image.

You take another look at it, but the most you feel is amused. “Barely even touched himself and he’s got a precum stain that big, that’s hilarious,” you snicker.

As though he can sense Eren’s humiliation through the phone (it’s quite palpable, really), Armin mercifully defends him. “He’s been good though, right?”

Disappointed by Armin ruining your fun, you pull a face. “I guess.” But then, struck with an idea, it morphs into an impish grin and you lean forward, hand on his chest, as you exaggeratedly purr, “But not as good as youuu, babycakes~”

“Pfft!” Armin pushes you away half-heartedly. You relent and manoeuvre around him. “God, that is terrible. It’s like you’re not even trying,” he jokingly criticises, but cups your face as you lean in to kiss him anyway. You decide to nip his bottom lip and tug at it, still feeling playful, but when you part, Armin is staring at you with an intensity that warms you more than a harmless joke should. You kiss him again, a little harder, a little longer. Breathing a little heavier.

“Can...”

Right. You almost forgot you have company.

With much reluctance, you tear your focus away from your boyfriend. “Mm, what is it?”

Eren hesitates for a second before asking, “Can I, um, touch now?” His desperation is evident in the gruff quality of his voice. “Please?”

All too familiar with what you’re like, Armin gives you a pointed look and mouthes, ‘Be nice.’

Rolling your eyes, you take a moment to think, then say, “Send us a video of you edging yourself three times and I’ll think about it,” before tacking on a quick, “See you Friday!” and abruptly ending the call.

Armin stares at you in shock for a few seconds, then shouts your name scoldingly. “I told you to be nice!”

You gasp and cover your mouth in faux-alarm. “No way, is that what you said? I totally thought you were saying ‘mean ice’, that’s so crazy how that got lost in translation...” You keep your mouth covered to hide your growing smile.

Armin frowns at you, or tries to at least; he ends up smiling too. “You’re so mean sometimes.” He lightly pinches your cheek. You swat away his hand. “I ought to keep you in check more.”

You scoff and snake your arms around Armin’s neck. “You wouldn’t dare. I know you like it when I’m mean.”

Armin mutters a small, “Only in moderation,” that is meant to be assertive but gets lost somewhere under the scope of your bewitching gaze. Even though you’ve been dating for years, he still falters in moments like these. Too adorable.

Giggling, you seize his lips in a kiss — one that is only the prelude to the sequel of your passionate night ahead.

all of these ate bro

a masterlist of my unofficial attempt at this year's kinktober event. 25 days of kinky x reader love. all fics are 18+ in nature, so please, mdni. hope you enjoy, please remember to like/reblog your favourites, and I'd love to hear your thoughts :)

Note: almost all the reader characters are afab. their relationships with stolas and angel are qpr within the larger poly!dynamic. husk and blitz serve as the hinge in these dynamics. individual fics will note which ones feature gn!readers.

colour coding: huskerdust | husk | blitz | stolitz

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

day one: breathplay

day two: titty-fucking

day three: mirror sex/body worship

day four: balcony sex

day five: lingerie

day six: phone sex

day seven: sleepy sex

day eight: shibari/sex toys/overstimulation

day nine: handjobs/public

day ten: nipple play/temperature play

day eleven: massage/blowjobs

day twelve: keep quiet/formalwear/semi-public/gags

day thirteen: cream pie/cum eating

day fourteen: heat sex/breeding/touch starved

day fifteen: pegging/anal/praise kink

day sixteen: mutual masturbation/camshows/sex tapes

day seventeen: handcuffs/blindfolds/marking/flogging

day eighteen: free use/authority kink/daddy kink

day nineteen: cockwarming/in the workplace

day twenty: size difference/monster fucking/thigh fucking

day twenty-one: voyeurism/dry humping

day twenty-two: bath sex/thigh riding

day twenty-three: knotting/hand kink

day twenty-four: face-sitting/spanking

day twenty-five: aftercare

one of the hottest things a man can do is feel a little guilty

lights out - deadpool / wade wilson

minors dni !! this is 17+ nsfw material !!!

please reblog if you like it! ᡣ𐭩

content: theres a black out in your apartment. wade asks you, "what's one thing you've always wanted to try?".

word count: 3.9k (jesus, sorry)

warnings: pegging, dirty talk, mentions of alcohol, sub!wade, established relationship, fingering (m receiving), this is quite literally porn with very little plot

a/n: hi !! sorry this is such a long one! i've never written something like this before, so i hope it's okay! please let me know what you think <3

you're sitting on the couch, chin resting on the knee of your right leg, the other tucked underneath you. wade's sitting on the opposite side of the couch, and he leans forward to take a slice of pizza from the box on the coffee table.

you take a sip of your rosé, leaning forward to get yourself a slice of pizza too. wade's fixated on whatever crappy show he's put on on the television, but you're bored (and horny, but that could wait until you were a few more glasses of wine deep.)

you huff, shuffling your position to place your feet in wade's lap. you finish your slice of pizza, setting your, now empty, glass of wine on the table. wade's still focused on the television, so you gently tap his thigh with your foot. he still doesn't look.

you sigh, slightly annoyed that he's giving the tv more attention than he's giving you. you give him one more opportunity, tapping his upper thigh with your bare foot once again. wade catches your ankle, attention finally turning towards you.

he's smiling at you, and he looks so cute and cosy in his pyjamas that you almost outwardly coo.

"whats up, baby?" he asks, thumb rubbing circles on the soft skin of your ankle. you smile softly at his caresses, but furrow your eyebrows slightly as you answer his question.

"..m'bored," you whine, rolling your head back against the pillow thats propping you up against the arm of the couch. wade chuckles, squeezing your foot affectionately.

"bored, huh? what do you wanna do, doll-face? i told you you could pick the show."

you shrug and go to speak, but are interrupted by a flash of light outside, followed by the booming sound of thunder echoing through the apartment. the lights flicker above you, before the room goes completely dark.

"..shit," you hear wade murmur, watching as the tv and fridge turn off too.

"y'better get creative, pookie-bear. power's out."

you groan, getting up and bringing the bottle of wine over to the couch, pouring yourself another glass. you also bring the candle you had lit in the bathroom, the light slightly illuminating the room. you sit back down on the couch, laying your feet back in wade's lap. he resumes his soft circles on your ankle.

"so, pookie, whatd'ya wanna do?" wade asks, taking a sip from his beer. the room is barely lit by the candle you've brought out, and you can only make out that wade's looking at you because of the city lights streaming in through the window behind you.

you shrug, taking a sip of your wine.

"i don't know, baby," you say, leaning forward to scratch an itch on your knee. wade uses this as an opportunity to pull you closer to him, nestling you into his side.

you don't put up any fight at all, easily settling in to his arm pit as he wraps his arm around your shoulder.

you sit in comfortable silence for a while, the hand thats not holding your wine glass tangles with wade's hand as it hangs off your shoulder, occasionally squeezing it softly.

the silence doesn't last long though, to be expected when you're with wade wilson -- but you don't mind, you'd happily sit there and let him drone on and on about whatever he was particularly animated about that day.

wade's voice cuts through the silence, and you hear him swallow as he takes another sip of his beer.

"if you could be any vegetable in the world, what would you be, and why?"

you can't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the question, pressing your face into wade's side to stifle your giggles.

"what the fuck question is that, wade?' you laugh, looking up at him. you're close enough to be able to make out his face in the darkness, and he's looking down at you, a fond smile on his face.

he puts on a serious voice, stating sternly, "a very fuckin' serious one, princess."

you laugh, shaking your head, but you answer anyway.

"i'd be a cucumber, i think."

wade chuckles, and you feel it rumble in his chest as you lean into him.

"a cucumber, huh? why? 'cause you're cool as fuck?"

you laugh, nodding your head. "exactly, baby. y'know it."

he chuckles, taking another sip from his beer.

"what else've you got for me, wade-y?" you ask, tilting your head to look up at him. he puts a finger to his chin in thought.

"chocolate or vanilla?"

you laugh softly, looking at him with an 'are-you-serious?' expression.

"you know this already, doofus."

he puts his hands up in mock defence, "fine, fine. um... marvel or dc?"

you laugh loudly at this, stifling your giggles into wade's shirt again, shaking your head with a smile.

"..well... batman is the best super-hero, maybe ever.." you say trailing off, "but probably marvel, i guess, 'cos you're not dc, baby."

wade laughs, and you hear him mumble a playfully dejected, "fuckin' batman" to himself.

you laugh, leaning forward to pick the bottle of wine up off the coffee table, pouring yourself another tall glass of rosé. wade guzzles the last of his beer, setting it down next to the now empty wine bottle.

he leans back against the couch once again, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you back into him.

wade's hand slips beneath the fabric of your top, his hand gently rubbing the skin of your shoulder and the top of your arm.

"..last one, mm baby?" he says, continuing to caress your skin.

"what's one thing you wanna do with me that we haven't done yet?"

you almost scoff at this, knowing exactly what wade is trying to suggest. he's been trying to get you to let him fuck you up the ass for awhile now, but you'd always said no. so, you were gonna flip the script on him.

you pretend to think, eyebrows furrowing as you tap a finger to your chin in fake deep thought. you struggle to hide your smirk, stifling it by having a sip of your wine.

"hmm," you say, and your cheeks heat up as you go to speak, though you convince yourself its all the wine you've had, "..always wanted to try pegging, actually."

wade almost gives himself whiplash with how quickly he turns to look at you, your wine almost sloshing over the rim of your glass at his jostling.

"...wha-" he shakes his head as if trying to clear it.

"come again? this time in my ear?" he says, cupping a hand around his ear as though he didn't hear you.

you roll your eyes, playfully shoving wade's shoulder.

"i know you heard me, wade." you say, voice sounding bored, but your face shows your amusement, a smile poking at the corners of your mouth.

he takes a beat, looking at you and trying to figure out if you're serious or not.

"...you... you wanna... peg me?" he asks, his eye contact almost too intense as he speaks slowly.

"yes, wade." you say, matter-of-factly, "i know you did it with vanessa, and i wanna see what all the fuss is about. plus, maybe it'll finally shut you up." you throw that last part in as a joke, an attempt at disguising your obvious jealousy of vanessa knowing a part of wade that you didn't.

wade groans breathily, leaning his head forward to press into your boobs.

"..fuck, doll-face, why didn't ya' say something' sooner? y'tellin' me that i've been begging to fuck you like that, whole time you've wanted to do it to me?"

you nod, feeling sheepish the more the conversation continues. you feel your cheeks warm up, and quickly go to dismiss the idea.

"forget it... it's not--"

you're cut off by wade pressing his lips to yours in a chaste kiss, his hands coming to rest on your hips.

"who said i didn't want you to do it, hotstuff? fuck, can you imagine how hot that'll look? maybe we should record it."

you laugh, pushing him back by his shoulders.

"i think you're getting ahead of yourself a little bit, baby."

wade smiles, mostly to himself, and shakes his head in what seems like disbelief.

"i can't believe you wanna peg me," he mumbles, pressing a sloppy kiss to your pulse point. your breathe hitches, but you push him off.

"you asked me the question, wade!" you laugh, lightly shoving him off of you and leaning forward to put your wine glass on the coffee table.

wade gasps dramatically, holding a hand to his heart as you shove him off, albeit lightly.

"i did, didn't i?" he grins at you, "well... i can't deny the princess, can i? lets make the magic happen."

you giggle, not taking him seriously. he quirks an eyebrow at you.

"what? you don't think i'm man enough to handle it?"

he makes a show of flexing his arms and puffing his chest out.

"why don't we find out right now?"

wade jumps off the couch, grabbing your arms and pulling you up, leading you towards your shared bedroom.

you laugh softly, "baby! baby, wait... y'need to slow down," i laugh breathily, a twinge of excitement nestling in my stomach.

wade's already dragged you to the bed, and is in the middle of taking his sweatpants off, his t-shirt already discarded on the floor somewhere.

"y'gotta be like... warmed up first, right?" you ask softly, your cheeks turning pink slightly. wade coos.

"well... i mean... i can just heal, but..."

you cut him off, screwing your face up in disgust.

"what? wade, shut the fuck up. m'not just shoving a plastic dick up your ass with no preparation. i wanna do it properly."

wade's face softens at your words, and he leans forward to press a kiss to your lips before pulling his boxers down.

you know wade has a strap on, and he retrieves it from it's resting place amongst the rest of your sex toys in your wardrobe as you undress yourself.

wade turns around from the closet, his arms dropping to his sides as he takes in your naked body.

"fuck baby, y'so beautiful." he bites his lip, walking over and placing the strap on on the bottom of the bed.

you blush, shyly mumbling a thank you. wade laughs at your reaction.

wade must sense your uncertainty, and he throws you a bone.

"where d'you want me baby? on all fours on the bed?"

you nod, cheeks turning a deeper pink at the crassness of the situation. you take a deep breathe, putting the strap-on on and kneeling on the bed next to wade.

you spit into your hand, bringing it down to half-heartedly stroke his hardening cock. he groans, hips grinding into your hand softly.

"fuck, baby... don't stop.."

you pull your hand off at wade's words, reaching for the lube in the drawer of the bedside table. you squirt some onto wade's asshole, spreading it gently with your thumb.

wade lets out a deep breathe, burying his face into the pillows, muffling his moans as you slowly work your finger into him.

"s'this okay, baby?" you ask, unsure as you slowly press your lubricated finger into wade.

you don't get a reply, only breath moans as wade pushes back against your hand, "..please, baby... more..."

you shush him gently, working your singular digit deeper into him, curling it slightly.

wade lets out a soft groan, "..fuuck... just like that," he whimpers into the pillows, pushing his hips back to meet your finger.

"so good..so fucking good." he mumbles, and that spurs you on. wade already being fucked out from just one finger feeds your ego, making you feel more confident.

you rub his asscheek with your unoccupied hand, cooing a soft "relax, baby."

you hear him take a deep breathe, and his hole relaxes slightly. wade keens into your touch as you continue your soothing circles on his ass, quickening the pace of your singular finger.

"..please, princess.. more.." he whines, pushing his hips back to meet your finger.

deciding that he's stretched enough, you push a second finger into his asshole, scissoring the two to spread him open. you watch as wade's hips mindlessly buck forward, and you can see his pre-cum leaking onto the sheets.

wade cries out in pleasure, the sound muffled by the pillows. his hips buck forward as your second finger enters him, his body tenses at first, but he relaxes, whining softly as he pushes back to meet your hand.

"..fuuck, yes... jus' like that.." wade whimpers, shoving his face into the pillows beneath his head.

you rub soothing circles on his asscheek as you scissor your two fingers inside him, trying to loosen him up and prepare him for the strap-on.

"good boy, baby," you praise, caressing the curve of his ass as you move your fingers in and out of him at a quicker pace, "taking my fingers so well, yeah?"

wade nods frantically into the pillows, already too lost in pleasure to form coherent words. he pushes back to meet your hand, and you can feel his asshole loosening around your fingers as you scissor them open inside him.

you watch as his hole starts to relax and loosen around your fingers.

"m'gonna make sure you cum before i fuck you, kay baby?" you coo at him, your hand still rubbing your soothing circles on his skin.

wade whines as he moves his hips back to meet your fingers, nodding eagerly at your words.

"..y-yes... please... need t'cum.." he babbles from beneath you. you smile at his desperate voice, and begin to shove your fingers deeper into his ass, curling them up in search of his prostate.

at the same time, you reach the hand that was rubbing soothing circles on your ass around to stroke his cock, smearing his pre-cum down his shaft and swiping your thumb skilfully over the tip.

wade moans into the pillow, hips bucking into your fist, and you can tell by the way his length throbs in your hand that he's close. you fuck your fingers into wade with the same pace as you stroke his cock, watching as his hips stutter in uncertainty of whether to buck forward, or push backwards.

"c'mon, baby.." you murmur, squeezing your hand around his cock. the sensation of your fingers inside of him, and your hand tugging on his cock, is too much for wade to handle, and he strangles out a guttural moan into the soft pillows as he cums, his body tensing up as he empties himself onto your hand and the bedsheets beneath him.

you feel his asshole clench around your fingers as he shoves his face into the bed, his cock going soft in your hand as the last bit of his cum spurts out onto the sheets.

wade collapses onto the bed, spend and out-of-breath, his body relaxed and pliant, limbs heavy with post-orgasm bliss.

"mmm.. that was.. so good," he hums sleepily, burying his face into the soft pillows, "..now.. please.. need you inside me.." he whines softly.

you smile down at him, still seating on your knees on the bottom of the bed. you lean forward to capture wade's mouth in a soft kiss, rubbing his back soothingly.

"y'sure, baby?' you check in with him, wanting to make sure this was something he wants to do, though who were you kidding? wade was the freakiest person you knew, of course this was something he wanted to do.

wade lifts his head slightly, looking up at you through bleary eyes.

"..please, baby.." he whines softly, brows knitting together.

you smile at him softly, still rubbing his back soothingly, "m'kay, baby. get on your hands and knees for me, can you honey?"

he nods, slowly getting up and moving into position, his movements a little clumsy as his legs wobble from his previous orgasm. he rests his head back on the pillows, turning to look at you over his shoulder with a sleepy smile.

"like this, baby?" he asks, voice so small sounding that you can't help but coo at him.

you nod, smiling at him and affectionately rubbing the curve of his ass.

"good boy, honey." you praise, and wade's cheeks flush at your words, a strange mix of embarrassment and arousal flooding through hi as he bites back whatever noise of pleasure he was about to make.

"m'not a dog," wade mutters, causing you to scoff, laughing softly.

"no, y'not. what? you don't like being called a good boy, wade?" you ask, putting on a stern voice, though you're teasing him, having seen the way he bit his lip to stifle his noise.

his face heats up even more, if possible, and he lets out a small, embarrassed, whine.

"s-shut up.." he glares back at you, but there's no way of hiding the way his body reacts to your words, his heart racing and cheeks burning hot.

you laugh, almost cruelly, spreading lube down the length of the strap-on before lining up to wade's asshole.

"y'ready, honey?" you ask, voice soft as you rub his hip softly.

he takes a deep breathe from beneath you, letting it out slowly as he nods. he bites his lip, butterflies swirling in his stomach as he feels the cold lube against his skin.

"..y-yeah.. do your worst... or best?" he mumbles, looking at you over his shoulder, a gentle smile on his face.

you laugh softly, spreading his ass open with your hands before pressing the tip of the strap to your asshole.

"relax for me, baby.."

he takes another deep breathe, slowly letting it out as his body relaxes, his shoulders slumping forward slightly. you press the tip of the strap-on past the tight ring of muscles, and wade lets out a low moan, his fingers gripping the pillows tightly.

"..m-more..." he whimpers, pushing back against you.

you rub his ass soothingly as you slowly press into him. he whimpers and moans beneath you, his body tensing and relaxing in turns as he adjusts to the sensation.

he buries his face in the pillows, voice muffled as he begs for more.

"..please, baby.. s'good.."

you coo softly, pressing further into his tight hole as you continue your soft circles on his hips, "good boy, baby... takin' me so well.."

his cheeks turn pink at your words, and he pushes back against you, moaning as you bottom out inside him.

wade lets out a deep, shuddering moan as you fill him up completely, his body going tense and then relaxing as he adjusts to the sensation. he whimpers, and you can almost see the thoughts leaving his mind as you fuck into him with shallow thrusts.

"..oh, fuck... so good," wade mumbles into the pillows.

"such a good boy, wade," you coo, stilling your hips to let him adjust to the size of the strap-on inside him.

he lets out a low whine, shifting uncomfortably against the sheets, feeling empty and restless without your steady thrusts. he tries to push his hips back to meet yours desperately.

"..c-come on... keep goin'.." he begs, looking back at you over his shoulder, "..need it... n-need you.."

you tut, "barely fucked you, and you're already a mess, baby."

you begin moving your hips at a painstakingly slow pace. wade lets out a sharp gasp, his body writhing beneath you. he moans into the pillows, his hips moving back to meet your thrusts, your hands on his hips guiding him softly, thumbs rubbing soothing circles.

wade moans underneath you, jolting forward with every thrust you push into him with. you angle your hips up, searching for his prostate with every thrust.

you know you've found it when you hear a loud keen from wade, his face shoved into the pillows as he arches his back, as he moans loudly.

you keep your pace, angling your hips the same way over and over, feeling wade's thighs begin to shake as you rut into him. you squeeze your hands on his hips harshly, nails digging into the skin slightly.

he hisses beneath you, babbling nonsense as he whines incoherently. i continue my steady rhythm, relishing in the pretty noises slipping from your lips every time i thrust forward. i spit in my right hand, leaning forward and slipping my arm underneath you, wrapping my hand around your cock and tugging softly.

you feel wade's hips buck into your hand, listening to his soft whines as you skilfully swipe a thumb over his slit, smearing his pre-cum down his length as you continue the rhythm of your thrusts.

you tug at wade's cock, feeling his hip stutter with uncertainty of whether to buck into your hand or or push back against your thrusts.

"look at you, huh?" you tease meanly, slowing the drag of your hips, deliberately hitting the spot inside of him, over and over, "big, bad Deadpool, so fucked out by his little girlfriend he can't even form a thought."

you squeeze your hand around his cock, listening to him whine, babbling something that sounds like," ...f-feels so.. good..." into the pillows, drool pooling at the corner of his mouth.

you know he's getting close, his length throbbing in your hand as you twist your fist around it, slamming your hips into him.

"c'mon, honey.. y'gonna cum for me?" you coo, thrusting into him harshly as he ruts into your hand, his high-pitched moans muffled in the cushions.

he whines, a gently, "u-uh huh.. m'gonna..."

you deliver a particularly harsh thrust to his prostate before you feel his body tense up beneath you, legs quivering as he groans into the pillows, back arched as his hips jerk into your hand, thick ropes of cum spilling out onto your hand and the sheets below him.

you slow your hips, gently fucking him through his orgasm, cooing soft words of praise as his body goes slack beneath you with a guttural groan. you rub soothing circles on his back as you slowly pull out of him, a soft whimper sounding from him at the loss of contact.

you take the strap-on off, discarding it on the dresser before crawling up the bed, slipping in next to wade. he instantly snuggles into you, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your neck.

"how'd i do, baby?" i ask gently, voice barely above a whisper as you lay against me with your eyes closed. i know you're not asleep because i can feel you tracing soft circles on the exposed skin of my upper thigh.

"so good, doll-face," he mumbles against your skin, "..fuck, i can't believe you didn't let me record that. y'know the numbers that shit would get on only fans?"

i laugh softly, shaking my head, "next time, baby -- maybe. m'not making any promises."

wade goes silent for a second, before asking, his voice soft, "did you like it? was it.. fun f'you?"

you pout at how cute he is, twisting your body beneath the sheets to face him.

"wade, i just got to shut you up for more than a minute, of course i loved it." you giggle softly, bringing wade's hand up to your mouth and kissing his knuckles softly.

"seriously, i had fun, wade. don't worry about that." you assure him when he gives you a pointed look, eyes softening as you press your lips to his knuckles.

wade smiles cheekily, pulling you into him, "well, if that's how you're gonna shut me up, maybe i should start talking more, huh?"

you give him a look, laughing, "are you sure that's even possible?"

he smiles, "remember what happened the last time you thought i couldn't do something?"

©trumanbluee - reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated! but i do not wish for my work to be republished, translated, or copied. thanks!

taglist: @tvwebs @muteprincess @blckbarbiedoll @dwthisuserisalive @catts-world @helpyourself-9 @tiredemzz @starstruckracc @imcrying24 @aintsoprettynow @thedevilsaysthings @darerlin @tokkiwrites

“When in doubt, rub one out.”

-idk, some dude probably

Victor x reader - brushing hair behind the reader’s ear or stroking their cheek when he thinks they’re asleep

I kind of went…overboard with this request so I apologize for that my friend 😂 the prompt comes in towards the end of the one shot. I hope you enjoy!

Seeds of Love

Viktor x Female!Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: unrequited(?) love, but not really, misunderstandings, out of context conversations, emotional hurt/comfort, love confessions.

The Gala is still in full swing, even though it has been several hours since it started. Fancy drinks flowed in abundance along with dainty hors d'oeuvres and a buffet of food that never seemed to diminish, no matter how much people ate.

High society parties are still something you haven't quite gotten used to, no matter how many times you've been brought as a plus one by Viktor or Jayce. Yet, you loved them all the same. 

Maybe not the parties themselves. Quite frankly, you find them suffocating and filled with too many people who never say what they're honestly thinking.

Too many people fawn over Jayce, the Golden Boy of Piltover, while completely ignoring Viktor or turning their nose up at him whenever Jayce tries to include him. It always infuriates you because you see the important things in Viktor. 

That's the only reason you agree to come to these events anyway. To spend more time with him. And the fact that you know he appreciates not being completely alone throughout the night as Jayce is pulled in a million directions. So, more often than not, you get to spend ample time alone with the Hextech partner, just like now. 

After Jayce was pulled away yet again, you and Viktor retreated to a small balcony. The doors have been propped open, allowing the cool evening air to circulate through the crowded room.

Viktor sighs as you both step out into the open air, and you can't help but agree with his nonverbal relief. Inside was entirely too stuffy, and you could feel the beginnings of a headache coming on from all of the rich perfumes assaulting your senses and the constant hum of conversation and music. 

"Remind me why I continue to come to these dreadful events," Viktor says sitting on a cushioned bench facing the city landscape.

A huff of laughter escapes your lips.

"Because Jayce asks you too," you say, gathering your dress in your hands before taking the unoccupied space beside him.

"And you get to spend time with me." You nudge his arm playfully as you tease. 

The inventor's lips twitch up into a smile as he looks over at you.

"Your company is much preferred to Jayce's, especially considering he is never by my side much at these events."

Taking a sip from the champagne flute in your other hand, you try in vain to stop the butterflies that flutter in your tummy. You want more than anything for his words to mean more than they do.

Your feelings for him have been shoved down since the moment you met him, and as time goes on, you are finding it harder and harder to hide your affections. 

In truth, you've always found the man intriguing. Being friends with Caitlyn Kiramman had inadvertently brought you into the two Hextech creators' lives. And as Caitlyn was to Jayce, you were to Viktor, eventually.

Viktor hadn't said much to you initially, as there wasn't much to say. You had studied Botany at the Academy and are now head of the department, which is vastly different from Hextech. Yet, as Caitlyn was talking to Jayce, you had found your way over to Viktor, who sat hunched over at his desk, muttering to himself about something. He startled when you asked him what he was working on, and the man seemed shocked you were even remotely interested in his work. But as soon as he got started, he didn't stop, telling you about their next project and answering all the questions you had. 

Curiosity led to friendship with Viktor and…something much more for you.

Something you had hoped he would return if you could just find it in you to talk to him about it.

But every time you had an opportunity, you were alone, or he was with you in your greenhouse…you couldn't do it. The words would be right there on the tip of your tongue, and then he would look at you, and they would die in your throat. Golden eyes filled with excitement or happiness would stop you from ever saying anything in fear of ruining what you already have. 

Like right now. 

Viktor has moved on to talk about what he and Jayce plan on tackling next. A larger version of a teleportation portal they have been working on. The Hexgates is what they plan to call them once they get them working correctly.

Viktor is always so animated when he talks about his work; his face lights up, his hands move around frantically in the air…and you want nothing more than for him to talk about you that way.

As selfish as that may sound. 

You almost do it again. Almost manage to tell him how you feel when there is a lull in his speech. Finally, you actually start this time; you can feel your lips part as you speak, your heart thudding in your chest.

"Viktor…"

He looks at you, brows raising in question and a silent request for you to continue. And you just about have the words out when a familiar presence stumbles out onto the balcony, a broad grin on his face.

"There you two are!" Jayce's voice is booming in the soft silence of the balcony, and you can't help the way your shoulders fall slightly at his appearance. 

Another chance was gone. 

Viktor rolls his eyes.

"You act as if we left you to the wolves."

Jayce scoffs, strolling over to stand in front of you.

"You kind of did,” he defends, leaning against the balcony’s railing. "I have had to explain our next Hextech project like fifteen times. It's exhausting."

You move to take another sip of champagne only to notice that your glass is empty. Frowning at the offending object you stand up and send Jayce a smile.

"Sounds like you need a drink. I need to refresh my own anyways." You turn to Viktor. 

"Would you like anything?" 

He shakes his head, waving his hand dismissively.

"No, thank you." He gives you a polite smile. "I could go with you if you'd like?"

Butterflies start up again, and you try to school your reaction slightly.

"Yeah, I wouldn't mind-"

Jayce cuts in.

"Actually, I was hoping to talk to Viktor about something, if you don't mind?" 

You glance from the taller man back to Viktor, a slight sense of disappointment tugging at your chest.

"Yeah, of course. I'll be right back."

The two men give you short nods as you turn back into the building to seek out one of the waiters handing out champagne.

The search takes longer than expected, and the whole time you try to think of ways to talk to Viktor. 

Maybe you've had so much trouble because you're trying to be too forward.

Instead, you could start by asking him out on a date.

Something simple.

Viktor practically lives off coffee, so maybe you could ask him out to the coffee house by your apartment? 

You finally locate a waiter just as that thought runs through your mind, and it feels like something finally clicks when it does.

Nodding to yourself, you pick up two glasses of the bubbling drinks, trading in your empty one.

Why hadn't you thought of that before? 

Of course, asking him out to coffee or dinner would be easier than confessing your love to him.

Probably a bit less awkward too…

You can't hide the triumphant skip in your step as you head back toward the balcony, a new plan already forming in your head. 

However, just as you are about to enter the outside space, the conversation between the two men you are returning to makes you pause. 

"She likes you, you know," Jayce says, presumably to Viktor. 

"What are you going on about?" Viktor asks, his accented voice unmistakable. 

You know you shouldn't eavesdrop, and you are just about to step out onto the balcony when your name falls from Jayce's lips and makes you freeze completely. 

“(y/n).”

"I’m almost positive she likes you. And before you say it, yes, as more than a friend." Jayce's voice is firm as he speaks, like they've had this conversation before. 

Have you been that obvious?

Heat rises to your cheeks at the thought.

If Jayce knows…

Then you've definitely been more obvious than you intended. Because that man is oblivious to just about everything. 

You hear Viktor sigh as you take a few more steps closer to the open doors, careful to stay out of sight. 

"I don't believe you are correct," he says, matter-of-factly. "And even if she does feel this way, it's not like I would not act upon it."

You don't even hear the rest of what he says as your heart starts to ache deep in your chest. It feels like you've gone numb, your fingers tingling with how hard his words hit you. 

He doesn't feel the same. Of course, he doesn't.

The familiar burn of tears is what forces you to move, and you practically burst out into the balcony.

The conversation immediately stops as you appear, and both of them look like a pair of startled deer. You quickly hand Jayce his drink, managing to spill a few drops onto his pants due to how your hands shake. 

"Here's your drink. Sorry, I took so long. I-" 

"Hey, Hey. Slow down." Jayce is up from his seat instantly, setting his drink on the ground and taking the one from your hand to give to Viktor.

"What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost." 

You shake your head but can't stop yourself glancing over at Viktor, more tears welling up at the concerned look on his face.

Finally, you drop your eyes to the floor. 

"I don't feel well. I think I'm gonna head home." You say simply, brushing Jayce's hands off you to head towards the door. 

Turning to leave, you don’t wait for a response from either of them, but Viktor is already hauling himself to his feet, leaning heavily on his cane. 

"At least let me walk you home-" 

"No!"

Your rejection comes out much louder than anticipated, and you cringe internally. You try to ignore the startled look on his face as you elaborate.

"I'm fine. Have a good night, you guys.”

You leave before either of them can stop you. Gathering the skirt of your dress in your hands as you walk, you can’t help but worry the delicate fabric between your fingers. Right now, it's the only thing grounding you until you exit the large mansion onto the street. 

Only then, when the crowd's murmur disappears behind the doors, and the cool air washes over you, do the tears fall. 

———

While you had told the boys you were going home, your feet had inadvertently carried you to the greenhouse on Academy grounds.

It was the one place you could go to calm down; your plants always had a calming effect on you. Tending them, pruning the dead leaves away, sketching new blooms or new breeds of flora and fauna. 

It almost helped drown out the ache in your chest.

Almost. 

You can't help but feel silly sitting on a stool in the plant-filled space, your evening gown still on and trailing against the dirt floor.

You had taken your hair out from its intricate style, letting it lay free as you nursed a particularly picky plant in front of you. 

Adenium obesum.

More commonly known as the desert rose. 

It's a beautiful little shrub plant with vibrant pink-white flowers when it blooms. You were able to get your hands on one when a foreign market came to Piltover a few months ago. 

The flower is supposed to bring good luck. It resembles courage, self-belief, and resilience.

Hope. 

All things you had desperately needed-

Desperately wanted to confess.

But it seemed it hadn't done you much good. It was all in vain anyway. 

At first, the plant had struggled to survive. There aren't many subtropical plants under your care, and you worried for many weeks you would lose the little plant. But after weeks of tender care and careful adjustments, the flowers started to bloom. 

And you foolishly took that as a sign. 

Sighing, you trim away a few dead leaves before opening your notebook to a blank page.

The small shrub is in full bloom, its bright flowers complemented beautifully by its vibrant green leaves.

You had yet to sketch out the plant and decided now was as good a time as any. 

Anything to get your mind off the sting still lingered in your heart. 

You lay your pencil on paper, trying in vain to occupy your mind with your love of plants rather than your unrequited love of Viktor. 

———

The halls of the Academy are eerily quiet in the late hours of the night. It was just past midnight when you had left the Gala in a haste Viktor did not expect.

Jayce had called it a night soon after that, and Viktor agreed, wanting to go check on you more than anything. 

And talk to you after his and Jayce's conversation. 

He didn't believe his partner when Jayce told him of your affections. But after you left, the conversation continued, and he felt like an idiot once his partner pointed out all the signs.

The way you found any excuse to be close to him. The way you'd give him your undivided attention no matter the topic. 

"Do you really think she cared about the stabilization process of the arcane when she has a botany degree? You didn't even use layman's terms, Vik." 

Viktor had always assumed you were just being polite, but the more he realized it, the only polite people to him were his partner, Caitlyn, and Heimerdinger. Everyone else looked down at him or ignored him completely. 

But not you. 

You always praised him.

Laughed at his witty remarks. Brushed your fingers through his hair, looped your arm through his at events…

And suddenly, as Jayce was laying all this out, Viktor realized that he felt much more for you than he ever knew.

He has always wanted to be around you and craved your presence and words. Loved to listen to you speak of your plants and your work.

For Janna's sake!

He spent the precious time he could have been working on Hextech making an automatic water mister for you when you couldn't be at the greenhouse. 

Viktors has been a fool, and he hid all of his feelings behind a wall of 'professionalism' in fear of pushing you away.

…It seems that he's managed that anyway. 

He had gone to check on you after your abrupt exit, and when he didn't find you at your apartment, he knew exactly where you'd be. 

The greenhouse is one of the only places in Piltover with thriving natural plant life. Most of the greenery scattered around the city was intentionally placed to make the city look brighter and more pleasing to the eye. 

But you've made the greenhouse, and the Academy gardens a flourished, lush, paradise.

Even though he's been in the large building too many times to count, it still takes his breath away every time.

Green plants hang from the ceiling, their leaves or vines hanging from pots to create a fantastical atmosphere.

Plants with bright flowers or lush leaves sit on the multitudes of shelves and tables throughout the space, and every time Viktor takes a breath, it feels cleaner than the last. 

He understands why you love it here so much. And he feels the worry that settled in his belly dissipate when he sees your form hunched over your workbench in the far corner. 

He approaches slowly, the sound of his cane muted against the packed earth of the greenhouse.

He calls your name softly, brows furrowing when you don't respond. Then he understands your silence when he's finally by your side. 

You had fallen asleep. 

Your head rests on folded arms, a leather-bound notebook scooted to the side with a half-finished sketch of the plant that sits to your left. A pencil is still clutched between your fingers, and Viktor can't stop the smile that tugs at his lips. 

You look beautiful like this.

Hair down, face calm, and at rest, cheek squished adorably from where it rests against your arms.

But as Viktor gazes at you, he can't help the way his smile disappears as he notices the faint streaks of mascara on your cheeks and the red puffiness around your eyes. 

He reaches up, gently brushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear before trailing his fingers along your cheek.

His touch is feather-light, yet it must have been enough to disturb your slumber, because your eyes begin to flutter. 

Viktor knows he should pull away, knows it's more than inappropriate, but he can't bring himself to do so. Not even as you begin to sit up, eyes widening as you realize who's standing before you. 

Finally, Viktor drops his hand as you shy away from him, avoiding his gaze. 

"What are you doing here, Vik?" You ask, voice sticky from sleep. 

His concern never leaves his face.

“Were you crying?" His voice is soft as he speaks, and he reaches up to cradle your cheek again, but you stop him, swatting his hand away. 

You ignore the hurt obvious in his eyes at your action.

"Why does it matter? I told you I wasn't feeling good." You snap, turning back to your notebook.

Viktor frowns, placing both hands on his cane.

"I just wanted to make sure you were alright. You were acting…strangely when you left the Gala." 

You huff, turning away from him more as tears start to blur your vision again. 

Why can't he just leave you alone? 

"Well, I'm fine." Your voice cracks, and you don't even care if he heard it. "So why don't you just go? It’s not like you’d ‘act upon it’ anyways." 

Viktor freezes at your words, and everything falls into place. Why you rushed out, why you are pushing him away now.

He feels guilt claw at his chest. 

"You heard us…." He states, voice low. 

"Yes, I heard you." You bite. "So don't worry about it. Forget Jayce even said anything, and I will too. He had no right to even talk to you about that-"

"I shouldn't have said that." Viktor cuts you off, and when you don't say anything, he continues. 

"I didn't believe Jayce when he told me how you felt. And it took him talking some sense into me to open my own eyes." He explains, fingers turning white with how hard he is gripping his cane.

"I was a fool to not see it and an even bigger fool for not realizing I feel the same way." 

At this, you tear your eyes away from your sketching, sending him a wary glance.

"What?" 

"I love you too." He finally says, never tearing his eyes from your own. 

He watches as your lower lip wobbles, and uncertainty fills your gaze.

"Viktor, if this is some kind of joke-" 

He takes a step forward then, cradling your face gently in one of his hands.

"I might be blind, but I'm not cruel." He says, lips turning upwards. "It just took Jayce talking some sense into me so I could finally see what is right in front of me." 

A shaky breath leaves your lips as you lean into his touch, your eyes slipping closed.

"I've loved you for way too long," you admit, reaching up to cover his hand with yours. "I'm sorry for the way I acted-"

Soft lips on yours stop the apology in its tracks, and you hesitate before realizing what's going on. 

Viktor is kissing you.

Viktor is kissing you! 

When your mind finally catches up, you return the kiss, surging forward to bring yourself as close as possible to him.

Viktor obliges, leaning his cane against your workbench and wrapping his free arm around your waist. 

When you pull away, you want to take a breath and kiss him again, but Viktor pauses - resting his forehead against your own. 

"I should be the one apologizing." He tells you, nudging his nose against your cheek. 

Shaking your head, you smile.

"All is forgiven." You say, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to the beauty mark below his eye.

"Although I do have to admit, making out in the greenhouse isn't very professional. So maybe we should go somewhere else."

Viktor laughs, pulling away to look at you properly. He brushes a thumb along your lower lip and then your cheek.

"Damn, professionalism." He says, leaning in, so his lips brush yours. "I just want you by my side. For as long as you'll have me." 

The way your heart flutters in your chest is unmatched by anything you've felt before, and you can't help the giddy laugh that escapes from your chest.

"If I had it my way, that would be forever." 

Viktor hums. "Forever, it is."

Then his lips are on yours once more.

And as he kisses you in the greenhouse, flora all around you, you can't help but silently thank the little Desert Flower beside you. 

Maybe it did bring good luck.

it's sooo hot when a guy describes his dick leaking precum as being 'wet' like yeaaa tell me how wet I make you baby🥰

Can i ask for a lucifer x fem!sucubbus!Reader 🗿?

Where the story takes place in the ring of lust since Lucifer is going to visit her secretly hehe

I don't know if you write smut but it would be nice if it could be smut 🥲❤️

A/N: So I’m not the best at smut, but I definitely want to try! Please do tell me if I’m not very good at smut, I’ll try not to embarrass myself later 🥲

His Secret Succubus

Summary: Lucifer is taking baby steps to get over Lilith and by some miracle, he ended up stepping into a girl’s bedroom. Little did he know, that would lead him down a rabbit hole.

Lucifer Morningstar x Fem!Succubus!Reader

INCLUDES: Nervous Lucifer, Sex, Sub!Lucifer, Dom!Reader, riding, P in V, protected sex

It was a slow Tuesday for Ozzie’s, as was any other Tuesday.

The only people coming along seemed more interested in their dates than you and the other strippers doing some synchronized dance while Asmodeus sang.

Imagine your surprise when you saw Lucifer, the head honcho, entering the building, without a date as well.

It’d been your break when he entered the back rooms, immediately being scooped up by Asmodeus into a tight hug.

“So it is you, Lucifer!” Asmodeus laughed, “I knew I saw you walk in earlier! You gotta text me next time, I didn’t have a table ready!”

“Ah- Uh-“ Lucifer looked as if he was being squeezed to death, chuckling awkwardly, “I-It’s fine- People ran out the building when they saw me anyway-!”

It was almost funny how awkward Lucifer seemed. He had to tilt his neck at an uncomfortable looking angle just to look at Asmodeus, which you almost made the mistake of laughing at.

“So, what brings you to my club, hm?” Asmodeus hummed, his attention solely on Lucifer and not on the 12 strippers on their breaks in the same room, “Looking for a fun time after all these years?”

Lucifer looked at the ground, embarrassed, “Oh- N-No! No no no, none of that-!” He then glanced up at you and the others, “N-No offense, of course!”

You shrugged it off, but the other girls immediately sat up and sent him suggestive smiles.

Asmodeus shut that down real quick.

“Didn’t you hear him? He said that’s not what he wants” He crossed his arms, “Your breaks are almost over anyways, hurry up and get ready”

Everyone groaned before getting up and heading to their respective changing rooms. Then you heard Asmodeus calling your name.

You turned around, already halfway into your room.

“Yes, Asmodeus?” You asked.

“You’re okay to take a longer break, I’ll send another girl out” Asmodeus smiled, “Something tells me you’re gonna have a busy night, hon”

You nodded, glancing at Lucifer whose red cheeks seemed to glow somewhat.

Meh, it was probably nothing.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You sat in the private room of the strip club, having been told that an anonymous client wanted to see you there.

It was nice for Hell, the room matched the vibe of the rest of the club while also feeling homey enough to be comfortable.

You turned your attention back to the door, waiting for whatever perverted fuck might walk through the door.

Your unimpressed gaze slowly turns into one of slight shock as you see the same king that you saw in the green room, the same king that assured Asmodeus he wasn’t here for sex of any kind.

“Oh, uh-!” Lucifer stammers, his eyes darting across the room, “I didn’t expect you to already.. Be in here..”

“Uh…” You respond, “Yeah, well, I kinda have to be in here whenever someone requests me”

The short king nodded and laughed nervously, “O-Of course you do! Uhm..”

You raised an eyebrow, “Are… You the guy that wanted me tonight?”

Lucifer seemed caught off guard by the question, but despite that, he walked forward.

“Yes, I- I did” He stuttered.

You hummed in response, trying to be as nonchalant as you could be since he seemed nervous.

You sat up from the bed, circling around him and standing behind him. You put your hands on his shoulder, smirking as he tensed up.

“Then what’re you waiting for?” You asked, not looking for a response. You waste no time to lead him to the bed.

Lucifer was surprisingly nervous about this. You kinda expected him to be some confident douchebag since he was the embodiment of pride, but here he was, letting you lead him.

He took a minute to get comfortable, leaning back on his hands as his legs hung off the edge of the bed.

“So.. Do you like to be the dom or..?” You asked.

“I’d actually like to be on the bottom, if that’s alright?” He asked, finally managing to get out a sentence without stuttering.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine” You nodded.

You moved his legs, separating them ever so slightly so that you could sit down on his lap.

“Is this position alright?” You asked, looking at him as his face flushes red.

“Y-YUP- Yup-! J-Just fine” He laughs nervously.

You couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling at his behavior, but you made sure to stop almost as soon as you started.

After a moment or two of adjusting the position, you draped your arms over his shoulder and started to grind your hips against his own.

You could hear as his breath hitched in his throat and he whimpered quietly. This reaction was exactly what you needed as you continued to rub your clothed sex against his.

“Fuck..” He whispered, his hands almost giving out as he involuntarily jutted his clothed erection up, craving more friction.

“How impatient…” You said before getting up off his lap, giving him some time to breath as you strut over to a cabinet nearby.

“Wh- Where are you going..?” He asked in between breaths.

You glanced at him, smirking at his new, more disheveled state, “Just getting some protection.. I’m assuming you don’t want any new responsibilities, do you, my king?~”

He shook his head quickly, making himself dizzy in the process, “No, no no- Hah- I uh.. Already have enough on my plate as it is..” He laughed.

“That’s what I thought,” You giggled before walking back to him with a condom.

He was quick to remove his belt and pull down his pants and boxers, revealing his dick. So that’s where the rest of the inches went!

It wasn’t difficult to put on the condom, you’d done it to dozens of men before and you just had to keep telling yourself this wasn’t any different, even though it definitely was.

“Now, let’s hope I can make you forget about all those responsibilities, hm?” You smirked, slowly removing your own mini skirt and lace thong.

He nodded quickly, already incredibly excited, “Trust me, you will” He mumbled.

You continued to grin as you pushed him back on his forearms, getting yourself comfortable as you lined the tip up with your pussy.

You managed to fit it all in on your first try, which was surprising considering his size. You could hear him letting out a small whimper, which only encouraged you to continue.

You started off gentle, taking it slow with him since he seemed to be that type of guy.

“F-Ffuck..” He groaned, his head leaning back.

“Hm? Does it feel good?” You smirked, lifting your hips before going back down and taking it in again.

“Mmhm..~” He whimpers, bucking up slightly before grabbing onto your thighs.

This motivated you to try harder. You’d had powerful men reduced to nothing but messes with minimal effort, but you’d love to see how far the King of Hell himself could go.

You continued to go slow until you felt the much loved feeling of him brushing against your g-spot. You couldn’t conceal your delighted little moan.

You leaned down on him, getting into an angle that was both comfortable and easy to please both of you in. You could feel yourself getting less gentle as you went on, and you knew he could feel it too seeing as he was letting muffled whimpers and groans pass through his lips.

You felt the familiar feeling of a knot forming in your stomach and you chased that feeling.

You could hear him groan as your walls clenched down on him.

“Gh- G-Gonna..” He whimpered, “I-I’m-“

He couldn’t even finish his sentence before he came, flopping down on the mattress as his arms gave out from behind him. You followed suit, your walls spasming as you cum on his dick.

You collapsed on his chest, both of you panting as you come down from the high.

“N-Normally I don’t cum that fast..” He choked out, laughing softly.

“Most people say that after I’m done with them” You chuckled, rolling off his chest and onto the bed beside him.

A few moments of silence followed. However, it wasn’t uncomfortable, it felt right.

“Wh- Uh.. C-Could I see you again..?” He muttered, not making eye contact with you.

You thought for a moment, wondering if being a sex worker for the king of hell was a good idea or not before shrugging.

“Yeah, I’d love to see you again” You nodded.

A/N: I rlly hope that was okay, I took a while contemplating whether or not this would be alright 😭

jujutsu kaisen p☆rn links.

featuring : gojo satoru, geto suguru, kento nanami, choso kamo, toji fushiguro & ryomen sukuna x reader ── mdni

​ɢᴏᴊᴏ ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ ⭑.ᐟ

early morning gifts on his birthday

he can't control it when you wear cute lingeries for him

teasing your wet folds

his favourite treat for sundays

ɢᴇᴛᴏ ꜱᴜɢᴜʀᴜ​ ⭑.ᐟ

he's your new roommate

showering with you

he fucks you against the bathroom's glass door

he's horny but everyone's asleep

ᴋᴇɴᴛᴏ ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ ​⭑.ᐟ

his way to end a boring college day

his obsession with you uniform

skirts on your ass is all he wants

doing it in the men's washroom

ᴄʜᴏꜱᴏ ᴋᴀᴍᴏ ⭑.ᐟ

he's too fond of your fishnets

his evening snack is you

making your back arc like crazy

obsession with your tits

ᴛᴏᴊɪ ꜰᴜꜱʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ ​⭑.ᐟ

he enjoys filling you up in his gym

he's a big fan of your new active-wear

spanking that horny ass while fucking

after gym scenes

ʀʏᴏᴍᴇɴ ꜱᴜᴋᴜɴᴀ ⭑.ᐟ

he loves fucking you doggy at parties

he can't wait to get home after a party

his new obsession is you facesitting on him

sex in car cuz he's got a boner he can't control

You | Lute x Redeemed!Sinner

Warnings: post season one by two months BUT Adam miraculously survived, Lute was able to get her arm regrown by some divine intervention, Lute being a bitch 97% of the time, Adam being Adam, reader being a sweetheart, strong language, some derogatory nicknames towards sinners, reader is HEAVILY implied to be a bisexual (real queen shit), WxW, probably very out of character for both Lute and Adam — but I've never written for either of them before ✨

Word Count: 3.2K

Summary: you were a redeemed sinner, yet Lute still hated you. . . Though soon, things would change for the better.

A/N — Silva is Latin for Forest *** (I know, I'm so creative). The sick meal is something I love even when I'm not sick, but feel free to imagine whatever you want for it :) but remember: ALWAYS WASH YOUR RICE

The sky brightened, bringing along with it the dawn of your first day in Heaven. Having been a long time resident of the Hazbin Hotel, you were as skeptical as the others, but played your part in wanting Charlie's dreams to come true. 

You were the first official resident, though more of an employee by the time Angel Dust came around, and a friend — a damned good one — to anyone who came through those doors. 

It didn't matter who they were. Whether it was Alastor, Husk, or even Lucifer himself, it didn't matter. You were an excellent listener.

Perhaps that was part of the reason you had been redeemed. 

It was possible that the other part of the reason why was because you regretted your singular act of immoral wrath when you were alive and you thought about it every day. 

You had walked the straight and narrow your entire life — married young and planned on having children once you were out of college and had a stable job. . . Then your husband cheated on you with his co-worker and it was as if you were possessed by blind rage. You killed him. 

You didn't kill her — she didn't know you existed, so you let her live. . . Then she found out of your existence rather quickly and karma came in the form of a pissed off woman wearing cheap perfume and fake red bottoms. 

So you crash landed into Hell immediately. No trial in purgatory. Straight into the melting pot of horrendous historical figures that you had been forced to write essays about in High School and people like you, who did one wrong thing. 

Watching the sun rise for the first time in almost ten years, you supposed you owed it all to Charlie. Having her as a supportive friend throughout your stay. 

First to arrive, second to be redeemed. 

The halo and wings were an odd feeling compared to the horns and sharp tail. . . As well as the white, light blue, and gold version of the outfit you were wearing when you ascended. Odd but welcomed. 

“Thank you.” You whispered aloud, sitting on the dock behind the building you had been guided to upon your arrival just hours before, surrounded by the water that was completely unaffected by murkiness or toxic waste. It was the cleanest water you'd ever seen. 

Wind chimes sang in the breeze that slightly rippled the top of the vast lake, distorting the reflected pinks and yellows of the golden sunrise. 

Voices drew closer, yet they didn't matter as the air warmed comfortably, the sun rising higher and higher in the blue sky. 

It was nice seeing blue instead of red. It felt human. It felt calm. 

“[Y/N]?” A voice called out and you turned around to face the newcomer. 

A smile broke out on your face as you came to see Sera with Sir Pentious and Emily at her side. The younger seraphim was buzzing with excitement. 

You carefully stood so as to not fall into the lake, approaching them slowly. “It's good to see you again, Pentious.” You said, hugging the former snake demon. 

He returned the quick embrace and blushed, just like he did when you were both in Hell. You and Charlie were the first to give him a chance. “You too missss [Y/N]. . .” 

You smiled at him once again before turning to Emily, who seemed to be the one temporarily in charge. “Welcome to Heaven! There's so much for you to see and do! But first, do you have any questions?”

“Where exactly in Heaven are we?” You questioned, gesturing to the lake with trees to either side, but with water for as far as you could see. 

“You're at the Silva Lake house.” Sera spoke up. “It was built when Sir Pentious arrived, as a way to prepare him for the eyes of the other angels who never set foot in Hell. . . As well as a potential sanctuary for any other sinners who may be redeemed along the way, such as yourself.”

A sanctuary for the redeemed made perfect sense when you thought about it. Heaven had to do something to not only make up for the mistake in leadership that led to the annual Extermination Day, but they couldn't just throw former sinners into society without getting them used to the new conditions. 

It would be like bringing a knife to a gunfight. . . They'd be ill prepared and it wouldn't look good for anyone, especially the higher-ups. 

“So, what do we have to do?” 

This time it was Emily who replied to you. “Just be here and show us that you have no problem learning how things work up here. . . It's not too complicated, but there are a few new rules in place after recent events. . . But don't worry! I'm sure you'll both be fine!” She smiled brightly, clapping her hands together. 

You could only hope everything would be alright.

Two weeks after your arrival, you had begun to think that you could handle the new realm in which you resided. 

At the Silva Lake house, you had a set routine which consisted of a lovely breakfast with Sir Pentious in the breakfast nook, morning lessons with Emily, a silent nature stroll with Sera, a trip to the city — just barely inside the limits — purely so you could see what you'd eventually be joining, and dinners alone because Sir Pentious was allowed to stay in the city longer than you and go further because he had been there longer.

It was nice to have a schedule, but having the same one every day was beginning to bore you. At least Charlie's schedules had made room for stuff outside of trust exercises. . . Stuff like hotel movie nights, family dinners, and fun outings. 

Two weeks and you thought you were ready. A five minute meeting was all it took for that false sense of readiness to fly out the window. 

One look in the golden eyes of the woman who would've killed you less than three months ago, had it not been for Vaggie stepping in, was enough to make you feel as if your leg was still stuck under the burning pile of rubble with an angelic blade mere inches away from your throat. 

The pain and any physical indication of it happening was long gone, but the memory was still there as if it had just happened moments ago. 

Yet you still regarded her as if she was an inhabitant of the hotel — with a smile and an open mind. 

Your welcoming smile was met with a glare of disdain from the exorcist angel, who looked as if she'd try to kill you again if you so much as breathed wrong in her direction. 

Shockingly, Adam, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during the whole meeting, was more open to conversing with you than Lute was. This was all part of Heaven's new plan. 

Forgiveness. 

Sera wanted you to forgive Lute for the part she played in almost killing you and your friends. 

She wanted Sir Pentious to forgive Adam for ‘killing’ him during the battle. 

And she wanted them to forgive the both of you for the roles played in the battle, despite you avoiding the battle where you could. 

“I sincerely apologize for the role I played in the battle that cost you many angels.” You said, catching Emily giving you two thumbs up from behind the two. 

“Now, Lute. . . Apologize to her.” Sera ordered lightly. 

The exorcist crossed her arms. “No. Why should I have to apologize to a lowly sinner?” She scoffed. “Not happening.”

You frowned. Lowly sinner? Ouch. . . 

“She is redeemed, Lute —”

“Is she? She looks the same. A wardrobe makeover doesn't change who someone is. And she practically reeks of Hell.” Lute turned her nose up at you. 

“I think that's enough for this evening, Sera. . . Adam, Lute. . . I apologize once again and hope you can find it within your hearts to forgive me.” You then turned away and walked towards your room.

“Sure thing, Bitch!” Adam called out just before your bedroom door closed roughly with a click. 

Lowly sinner? Reeking of Hell? 

The words stung. . . You should be mad, or even mildly frustrated. . . But you're more disappointed. Even when Adam, Lute, and the other exorcists were attacking your friends, you had been nice. . . But they didn't seem to care. It felt like you were redeemed for nothing. 

So you laid on your bed in silence, with tears unwillingly cascading down your cheeks, until your usual dinner time rolled around and Emily coaxed you out before she and Sera left. 

As you warmed up a prepped meal, you noticed that Adam and Lute were still there at the lake house, though neither paid any mind to you. Not while you milled about the kitchen. Not while you ate. 

The only time they paid any attention to you was when you walked across the far side of the living room to reach the bathroom for your evening shower. Even then, Lute only glared while Adam made derogatory comments about joining you in the shower. 

You ignored both of them, and when you came out of the bathroom, they were no longer in the living room, so you assumed they left. 

It became evident just hours later that they, in fact, hadn't left. The dead giveaway was the loud rock music that played from the TV in the living room, during a time you knew Sir Pentious was asleep — and the former snake demon didn't care for rock all that much. He was more of a classical music guy, but he could also get behind r&b. 

And you knew with the time, Sera and Emily wouldn't be around for another four hours.

You wanted to ignore it. Oh you tried so hard to ignore it, going as far as to cover your head with one of your pillows. . . But you could still hear it. And now you couldn't fall back asleep. 

Trying was pointless. 

Your morning started two hours earlier than it usually did, which unironically gave you time to do things that you couldn't do with the tight schedule. . . Like having morning coffee by the lake as the sun rose, breakfast that wasn't cereal or freezer waffles, or even a nice little swim with a shower after.

“What the fuck, dude?” You heard Adam's tired voice yell from the opposite side of the lake house, the music immediately muting. 

Lute's more awake voice could be heard through the walls, but you were unable to make out anything she was saying. . . So you sighed and went on to make a nice breakfast, in hopes it would help set the mood for the day. 

A good mood for a good day — hopefully. 

Adam and Lute weren't allowed to leave until all was forgiven and peace was made between the four of you. Orders from the almighty creator who hadn't taken too kindly to Sera, Lute, and Adam attempting to play God in his absence. 

What shocked you the most was Emily canceling lessons for the foreseeable future, purely because she could, saying ‘you've been at this for a while, you deserve a break so you're not burnt out’.

It was almost laughable. 

After the disruptive morning of rock n’ roll, you went back to the regular schedule for the most part. . . But before you knew it, you had been in Heaven for a month and your limits were being tested. 

Your food had gone missing from the fridge. 

Your laundry had gotten mixed up, despite being separated by your hand. . . Which resulted in two of your brand new favorite shirts to shrink in the dryer — you still wore them anyway.

Things you set down were never where you placed them. 

At first it drove you crazy — you thought you were losing your mind. Until Sir Pentious had come to you one late evening and revealed something he noticed. 

Lute had been either eating your food or throwing it away. 

Lute had been the one switching your laundry around. 

Lute had been the one moving everything you set down. 

You couldn't understand why someone would go to such lengths to inconvenience you when you had been so accommodating for the both of them. . . So you ignored her. 

And it pissed her off. 

How dare you ignore her existence while she was cursing yours? 

One evening, you were making a nice, hearty meal because you and Sir Pentious had fallen victim to the early autumn allergy fueled cold. It was something your parents would've made whenever you were feeling under the weather — you were just glad the ingredients were in the house. 

Adam entered the kitchen without his mask and opened the fridge as you were opening the cabinet that was filled with bowls and plates. 

“Whatcha makin’, Hot Stuff?” Adam questioned, closing the fridge. 

You glanced at him confused before opting to reply, rather than questioning anything he called you. At least he wasn't calling you sinner scum. 

“Dinner.” You croaked in reply, using a pot holder to lift the lid off of the large pan where thinly sliced and seasoned steak was simmering in a homemade mushroom gravy. You then gestured to the pot of fluffy white rice next to the pan of cauliflower. (Again, it's one of my favorites — so delicious.)

“There's plenty for you and Lute to join us, if you'd like to.” You almost lost your voice by the end of the sentence, but the first man heard you. 

“Yeah, okay. . . It looks more edible than that shit in the freezer — whatever the fuck that is.”

You would've laughed if you knew you wouldn't have landed yourself in a coughing fit. So you settled for a smile as you plated up the food. 

“It looks disgusting.” Lute sneered from the doorway. 

Immediately, your smile dropped and your fork clattered onto the wooden table. “Then don't eat it.” You snapped, taking your seat as Sir Pentious slithered into the kitchen. 

“This shit looks good as fuck, Danger Tits.” Adam shoved a fork full of steak in his mouth and released a downright sinful moan. “You're missin’ out.”

Sir Pentious nodded in agreement, eating what was on his plate relatively quickly. You appreciated Adam and Pentious trying to make things better, even if Adam was using his own way to make it seem so. . .

But you were slowly losing your patience, which became evident by the way you verbally snapped.

Lute didn't speak to you — or rather speak down to you for a few days, but she lingered while Adam got to know you better. . . She seemed rather put off with how things were going. 

Like how when you couldn't reach something, completely uncomfortable with using your new wings, Adam would grab it without stopping whatever conversation was going on. 

Or when he'd offer to make dinner (or buy dinner for everyone) just so you could have a break. 

Or even now when you were draping your towel over a chair on the back deck, prior to your swim in the lake, and he happened to be out there in the sun. You heard him mention something about you being ‘hot as fuck’ in your swimsuit, but you mostly ignored him, aside from a light blush dusting your cheeks. 

From him, she learned your favorite color, your favorite animal, your favorite everything, basically. . . And when your eyes found Lute, she was glaring at Adam, not you, for once. 

Rather than questioning it, you accepted it and found your way into the lake where eventually, they both joined you at a distance. You felt oddly alone, since Sir Pentious had decided to stay in — he still wasn't feeling the best, so you urged him to rest, claiming you'd be fine. 

Lute seemed to be attempting to drown Adam and he took it in a playful way, yelling and laughing loudly while she splashed him and jumped on top of him — something that seemed out of character for her. 

Though they both soon went underwater and just as you decided you were ready to go in, you were pulled under and came face to face with Lute. Your eyes widened as your heart beat rapidly in your chest. 

She wasn't glaring at you. . . There was no animosity behind her gaze, her hands locked onto your arms. She smirked after what felt like an eternity and pulled you back up to the surface with her. 

“Stay away from her, Adam.” Lute practically growled, holding you close. 

This was odd. It felt so wrong, but it felt so right having her arms wrapped around your waist. She hadn't touched you until then, so you weren't sure what to make of the situation.

“So you finally —”

“Shut up!”

Adam only smirked and shot out of the water, going to dry off on the deck. 

“I suppose we need to talk?” You questioned softly. 

Lute nodded and released her hold on you so that the two of you could reach the deck once more. 

You sat in the chair that Adam had previously occupied and she turned one to face you, taking a seat there. She stayed silent for a few minutes, watching you dry your hair and wrap your towel around your shoulders. 

Lute then took another moment to admire the way the late morning light caught on your face, before she spoke. 

“I was wrong about you. . . There's sinners who don't deserve good things and then there's you. . . I — you. . . You've proven yourself and. . . I'm sorry for how things have been since I showed up.”

You smiled at the apology, finally looking into her golden eyes. “You're forgiven. . . But if I might ask. . . Why did you hate me so much?” 

She became nervous, you could see it. 

“I thought you might be as bad as the regular sinners — I know what you did when you were alive and I know that's why you went to Hell. . . But these last few weeks showed me why you wound up here.” Something akin to adoration laced her tone and you blushed under her gaze. 

It was such a quick change. . . But it seemed like a good one. It seemed like common knowledge that she wasn't the greatest at expressing emotions, having been so deep in her work for the longest time.

Before you could open your mouth to reply, your heart bursted as a new sensation graced you — Lute's lips on yours. You felt your heartbeat quicken once again and your face heated up violently. 

She pulled away a moment later, stuttering out an apology. 

“I shouldn't have — hmph!” 

You immediately shut her up with another quick kiss before leaving a sweet peck on her cheek once you had removed your lips from hers. “I didn't mind. . . If this has the chance of becoming something, I want there to be communication. . . If you're okay with that. . ?”

“That's fine. . . [Y/N]?”

“Hmm?”

“We forgive you. . . I forgive you.”

You grinned and stood from your seat, reaching your hand out for Lute. “Wonderful. . . How about some lunch?” 

She snorted and shook her head, but still stood and took your hand, allowing you to guide her into the lake house for lunch. 

She sat beside you while everyone ate, shutting Adam down the moment he looked like he was going to open his mouth and say something stupid — which was often. 

You were happy and hopeful. Maybe this could grow into something beautiful. . . Maybe this could be your forever relationship. 

Just maybe. 

Additional A/N — if anyone wants the Fem!Redeemed!Sinner x Lute story to continue, requests are open! Give me ideas!