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He Chose You (Pt.1)

Lucifer/Reader

Hazbin Hotel AU where Lilith never existed, Lucifer has been lonely for over a millennia and Charlie will be born one way or another. Rated E for explicit sexual content of the raunchiest variety in later chapters and also weird old people.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

There was a knock at your door. It sounded like someone rapping their knuckles against the wood whimsically, as if following the beat of a song you couldn’t hear.

The methodical folding of your clothes into garage sale-quality drawers came to a halt. You looked over your shoulder, shifting on your feet hesitantly.

It had been little over a week since you moved into the grand old Donner apartment. Apart from a quick tow-in of shoddy furniture from your hired movers, no one had come calling. 

You definitely weren’t expecting anyone either, not in a brand new city you’d spontaneously decided to live in.

After another moment of uncertainty, you pivoted to the door and inched it open to a slit you could peek through. “Hello?”

Your brow furrowed as you stared at the empty space ahead of you. Pulling the door open fully, you peered down one end of the hallway to the other. 

Nothing but cracked and crumbling crown moldings on wainscoting, a matted-looking saxony carpet, the same musty, stale air…

‘Quack’

You nearly jumped out of your skin, head snapping down to see a real, live duck standing just outside your doorframe. 

“Oh!”

     You immediately squatted down to marvel at the animal. It gazed back up at you with beady red eyes and a curious gait. 

“Hey little guy,” You cooed, smiling despite the incongruous image of a waterfowl in your building.

You raised a hand and reached out slowly, instinctive desire to pet the cute little creature warring with a minuscule yet no less embarrassing fear. 

Were ducks typically friendly? You knew so little, ornithology not being your thing. 

“Will you let me pet you?” Your fingers hovered over the surprisingly patient animal before it decided to nudge itself under your palm.

The duck shivered with delight at your touch, all-white feathers ruffling excitedly and tail wagging, looking akin to a very happy dog. 

“Oh my god.” You gasped, heart melting. “You’re so cute!”

Soft feathers brushed against your bent knees as the duck drew close enough to rub its body against you. It had gone from doggish to cat-like effortlessly, and you couldn’t help giggling over how silly it looked.

“Where did you come from?” You asked after a bit of cuddling, glancing from side to side once again. The hallway remained empty, no one running to fetch what you assumed was a beloved pet. 

     ‘That’s… weird.’ You thought. ‘So, who knocked on my door?’ 

It was tempting to ask the bird that was currently bouncing on its webbed feet. You couldn’t help but snort with laughter before positioning yourself so that you were sitting. In an instant, the duck made to climb into your lap, allowing you to carefully lift it onto your legs when it couldn’t reach. 

“You’re so silly!” Grinning, you continued to stroke its head. “Your owner is probably worried sick about their silly little guy.” 

‘Quack’ 

The duck burrowed its head against your stomach as it settled on your lap, and you sighed. “I’d love to keep you, but I don’t know how to take care of you, sweetie.” 

Little red eyes bore into you from below, seemingly wide and beseeching. It was too precious, and too perfect (to the point where you idly wondered if someone was somehow scouting a way to scam you via adorable duck shenanigans).

Aside from the guttural, sad ‘wek’ you got in reply, a slow creak of hinges drew your attention back up. The door across from you had visibly opened the barest amount. You squinted, just able to make out frizzy red hair and a red-rimmed, down-turned mouth in the dim lighting. 

“Oh hey, hi!” You stopped yourself from standing, instead of bracing the bundle in your lap close. “Is this your duck?”

A tingle went up your spine as the door opened fully and an old woman appeared. She was dressed in green capri pants and a ruffled tan blouse, hair red as an open flame and barely kept in-check by a cheetah-print scarf. The makeup she wore was caked on, harsh red lipstick smeared around her thin lips and black kohl-rimmed eyes popping out of her wrinkled face. 

The sour, almost suspicious look on her face softened but did not completely go away, even when she smiled.

“Oh Lou!” She cried, making you jump. “You didn’t get very far, did you? I almost didn’t notice you were gone, you little scoundrel!”

“Well, thank goodness for that I guess. He’s got those little legs, ya see,” She nodded down at your lap, “but he’s so darn fast anyway, might as well be a midget racehorse!”

You chuckled and smiled politely. That persistent tingling at your back had you holding back a shiver, and the skin on your arms prickled and rose. 

“I didn’t know we could have pet ducks in this building.” Your words belied a confidence, as well as interest in having a conversation with this woman, that you didn’t truly have. 

As a matter of fact, despite the inner scolding you gave yourself for being judgmental, you were quite off-put in the woman’s presence. The want to return to your apartment and shut the door in her overly-painted face was rising like a lump in your throat. 

“He seems to really like you, that’s so sweet. He’s not usually this friendly with anyone but my hubby. That’s Mr. Farrow, honey, have you met him?” The woman - presumably Mrs, Farrow, leaned down just a few feet away. 

She still looked to be examining you and your avian companion, the bland pleasantness oozing yet unable to suffocate the shrewd glint in her dark eyes. 

“Oh, uh, no. I’m afraid I haven’t -” You started. 

“Oh, that’s alright! That’s fine! Matter of fact, he’d get an earful from me if he was talkin’ to a pretty thing like you without me knowin’!” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Just kiddin’, honey. You’re new to the building though, aren’t you? Well, welcome! It’s nice to see a new face here! ‘Specially a young one!” 

“Thank —”

“Maybe that’s why Lou is so taken with you! Animals just thrive off energy and sunshine and all that. Not slow, almost dead things. I’m sure you’re birds of a feather that way.” 

Again, your soft laughter is polite, teetering on nervousness. 

You took a moment to rise, humming apologetically when Lou squawked as he was jostled. On your feet, you instinctively stepped back. One foot over the threshold and solid in your apartment. 

“He is really sweet.” You said, holding the animal out as carefully as you could. “I’m glad he didn’t get lost.”

Mrs. Farrow stared, arms falling to her sides. She didn’t attempt to take the bird from you for a long, long moment. 

Confusion and disbelief clouded your mind as you stood, waiting, watching as Mrs. Farrow’s throat bobbed when she swallowed forcefully. 

What? Was she afraid of the duck?

In a split-second, she returned to smiling animatedly and waved a geriatric hand in the air so flippantly that the uncomfortable moment ceased to exist. 

“Oh honey, you can put him down if you want. He’ll come back over now that our door’s open.” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Lou’s not my biggest fan. He’s such a prideful thing, you know. Just like Mr. Farrow - it’s probably why they get along so well!”

You blinked, then slowly bent at the waist to let Lou down. The duck made another disdainful quack, red eyes looking at you morosely. 

It’s little legs eventually rowed through the air in an effort to gain footing. You lightly placed him over the carpet and let go, allowing Lou to jump down. 

The duck began waddling away, though it appeared to hang its head as it did so. Occasionally, he turned to look at you, somber and sullen as if bidding farewell before walking on death row. 

“Aww, poor little thing.” Mrs. Farrow drawled. At your side. “Looks like my Lou is sweet on you! Poor guy, I can see why! Again, a lovely young thing like you is probably a gift from above in this stuffy old place.” 

“Say, how long have you been here?” 

You turned to the old woman. “About a week, I’m still getting settled.”

Mrs. Farrow nodded vigorously, eyes bright but mouth pursed. “A week, a week?! A week and no one’s introduced themselves to you?”

“Holy Toledo, you must think we’re all a bunch a’ snobs in here! That’s no good. Oh! Why don’t you come over for dinner sometime and me and my mister can show you some proper hospitality?” 

“Oh, that's really nice of you —” 

“Sure! Sure! It’ll be great, how ‘bout tomorrow night? It’d give us some time to get prepared, have things cleaned and settled. Do you like steak? That’d be perfect, actually. I’ve got some in the freezer just waitin’ to be defrosted.”

“Um, well — That’s a little short notice…”

“I’m sure Mr. Farrow won’t mind. He’ll be glad for the company, and if he isn’t, well he will be when I’m done with him.” She chortled. “Just another joke, honey. He’s always dyin’ to talk to someone that isn’t me. It’d be a real treat to him. Treat ta me too! What do you say?”

Your mouth opened and closed as a light sheen of sweat broke over the nape of your neck. Mrs. Farrow’s sharp eyes were wider, attempting to beguile you while your head was still spinning. 

“I-I guess, maybe —” You stammered.

“Wonderful!” The eccentric woman’s eyes lit up like fireworks, cigarette-smoker’s voice becoming truly raucous in her delight. “I’ll go ahead and get started. You go get back to what it was you were doing before Lou and I interrupted you! And don’t worry about a thing! We might be old timers, but a good meal and good cheer never go out of style.” 

Mrs. Farrow laughed, pretending to shoo you away until you were back inside your apartment and she was pulling your door to a close for you. 

“Have a good night, honey! We’ll see you tomorrow! 6 o’clock, don’t be late!”

Before you knew it, you were staring at the back of your own door again. 

‘What the fuck just happened?’

OH MY GOD 😭

I watched Deadpool and Wolverine teehee THE CAR SCEEENEEEEEE UGHHHHH

We write porn girlypop, it’s truly not that serious 😭

[𝟐] 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐒 | angel 𝐀𝐝𝐚𝐦 × female human 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: marriage of convenience; forced proximity; angst; domestic; crackfic; possessive Adam; he falls first and harder; misogyny; Adam being Adam; explicit language; religious imagery & symbolism; sexual tension; eventual smut; happy ending; not canon compliant.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5,3k.

// holy necrogamy

𝐌uted purples and satiny gold dominate your current surroundings, giving them the dreamy, ethereal appearance of an evening sky. You blend right in as your face's colouration slowly reaches a similar hue to the wallpapered walls, a few shades darker than the plum carpeting you are clawing at. If you thought that it was difficult to breathe in Hell, then you are literally suffocating up here in Heaven. 

"I’m dying and you are just standing there." You wheeze out, rolling your eyes upward to stare through your eyelashes at your fiancé, who is leaning against a wall a few feet away. You can feel your chest expanding and contracting, creating the illusion of breathing, but no air ever fills your lungs, leaving you gasping like a fish out of water — which, in a way, you are. "Soon.. you will have no bride to marry."

"I told you that you won’t suffocate. It just feels like you are." Repeating himself pulls a disgruntled sigh out of Adam, but the thing is, you heard him the first time. It's just that his words don't bring any comfort.

"I hope.. I die.. go.. to Hell.. for mingling.. with.. the occult.. and.. reunite with.. the man.. that I.. actually.. love.." With your words coming in short gasps, you finally manage to voice out your sentence before lowering your forehead until it brushes against the coarse fibres covering the floor. You hope he will realise that you are not worth the trouble and send you back to Earth. You could start over, summon Lucifer through a chalky pentagram on the floor and talk it out with the devil in the comfort of your own living room this time. Just like normal people do.

However, your persistence only fascinates the man more.

"Don't be dramatic." Adam scoffs, reacting as if you are foolish for feeling and acting this way, but when you don't acknowledge him and refuse to get up from the ground, he has no choice but to take matters into his own hands. You feel his arm wrap itself around your middle, tugging you up and holding you close to him so you won't slump like a rag doll next to his feet. "If you had listened to me with those God-given organs on each side of your head and entered that room," he takes a step towards the door of said room and your legs swing like the controlled motions of a pendulum on a grandfather clock. "You could breathe just fine, but I doubt that would improve your cognitive abilities. God clearly prioritised beauty over brains with you."

The door slides open as though your arrival is highly anticipated to which Adam responds by stepping towards the darkness without a second thought. He knew where he was going while you, on the other hand, did not.

You writhe in protest and apprehension at having to face the unknown first, but ultimately your pitiful attempt at stopping him is useless.

Once the two of you are inside, the cloaking darkness swallows up everything around you, preventing you from getting familiar with your new surroundings and alienating you even more. At least he didn't lie about the air being more breathable.

Adam lowers you down onto your feet and with his touch no longer there, you feel like a tiny boat at night — lost in the middle of an unpredictable sea that hides its dangers in the dark while a big and scary monster lurks right behind you.

But perhaps sometimes it is better to not see.

A creature sits in front of you behind a dark wood table, illuminated only by an iridescent halo above his head. He appears to be human, with a handsome and familiar face, but you know he is not — this is Heaven after all. The unnaturally long upper part of the being's body peaks from behind the aforementioned furniture, so straight that it looks eerily unsettling. When he stands up, he appears to be even taller than the hulking presence behind you and when he gracefully glides through the room, his disciplined movements remind you of a statue that is being pushed on a drum dolly. 

Alarmed, you gasp, unintentionally bumping into Adam as you take an involuntary step back, but the creature doesn't seem to notice you.

However, he acknowledges the angel behind you.

"Adam, the first human." The being speaks with a flat yet modulated voice, although you are more taken aback by the information it presents than how it is delivered. "You were the last soul I expected to have in my presence."

"Well, Danny, for a marriage-related matter, it was only wise of me to visit the angel of marriage first! Isn't that right, babe?" Adam pinches your cheek and you silently glare in that direction, praying that you could burn his leathery claw off. When your prayers fall on deaf ears and you shift your focus to who you now know is Archangel Daniel, you find his empty, unblinking eyes already staring down at you, further solidifying his likeness as a statue in your mind. For an angel of love and marriage, he looks very cold and clinical.

Your breathing quickens as you hold eye contact with the archangel while he stares straight into your soul, then switches his focus above your head. His face doesn’t betray any of his emotions or thoughts, but you are certain that he is at least curious about the fact that you happen to look very alive.

"Do others know you want to marry a mortal?"

And that's when your face lights up with hope. An archangel — a messenger of God himself — has to put a stop to this and save you. Adam might be an angel, but ultimately, he is a human soul. Archangel Daniel is a divine entity who should protect not only the sanctity of marriage but also the people involved. You are not a willing participant; he should be able to tell that just by simply looking at your terrified face — so sickly pale that you might be on the verge of passing out or dying altogether.

"They don’t, but will. Promise."

Just like that, the archangel shatters your hopes for rescue by unostentatiously nodding at Adam. He doesn't even spare you another glance, as if the previous ones were already too much, before turning away to prepare for the marriage ceremony. If you could even call it that.

You attempt to swallow down the lump in your throat, but your mouth is dry. Why did this holy being, who was supposedly created with the sole purpose of protecting humans from evil, assisting the perpetrator? Why did you get more compassion from sinners in Hell than from angels in Heaven? Hell wasn't as scary as it looked, but Heaven is terrifying. Here, you have no one in your corner.

"Now that that’s out of the way, let’s get you dressed." Adam's loud voice snaps you out of your thoughts, cutting your pity party short.

You are dressed, even if the dress you put on this morning is now dotted with burn holes. The charred article of clothing is still yours. You made it! You chose the colour of the fabric that matched your eyes and suited your skin tone the best. You cut the skirt to the perfect length and sewed the pieces together until the pads of your fingertips were numb and bloody. It was made specifically for your first official date with Marcel and you wore it today, hoping that he would wake up from his coma and see you in it. You plan to wear this dress when you get Marcel back to the living world — you will mend the holes and wear it many more times.

But before you can speak your mind, in a literal snap of a finger, you are wrapped in what you can only describe as an embodiment of pristine purity — a toga-style dress as awe-inspiring as the first snow. Long pieces of silk wrap around your body like vines, hiding your skin in a false illusion of modesty. The tight fit makes your bust and curves more pronounced, and— did he make your underwear disappear?!

Embarrassment-red paints your cheeks, while the golden curve of his mouth spells out mischief. You cross your legs together, covering yourself protectively with your hands, but it does nothing to sway his unapologetic focus away from your body. Substituting hands for eyes, he traces every curve with keenness, but before you can make a remark, Archangel Daniel returns, signalling the start of the ceremony.

You tune out most of what is being said, trying to distance yourself from the situation as a whole — it wasn’t like you were needed as an active participant either way. No vows are exchanged, and no I do's are said — only a recitation of an ancient speech spoken by the archangel. A ritual that binds your souls into one.

You snap back to reality when you feel a soft touch grab your left hand. 

"What are you doing?" You jump a bit, pulling your hand away in the process. Adam's touch is unwelcome at the moment. You wish to spend these last moments alone with yourself.

"Where else do you want me to put your ring?"

Inside your ass, preferably. "Where I’m from, women wear it on the right."

As if having a mind of its own, your right hand throbs painfully, reminding you of its unfavourable condition, but you quickly silence it by pressing the burning palm into the lower part of the wedding dress.

"What’s so special about that hand?"

"The same question goes both ways."

"Ever heard of the 'vein of love'?"

You audibly scoff at that. What is the point of the gesture when there is no love involved? He doesn't need to make this poor excuse for a matrimonial union more of a spectacle than it already is.

"That a vein from the ring finger runs directly to the heart? Science proved that that’s nonsense—"

"Give me your fucking hand."

And you do, simply because your right hand is in no condition to wear anything.

You feel the cold metal slide down your skin, and even though the band fits perfectly and quickly warms up with the help of your body heat, the delicate piece of jewellery feels heavy on your ring finger. You can't make yourself look down.

"In the eyes of God, you are now husband and wife."

Everything is going too fast, you scream inside your head while sinking your teeth into your bottom lip to prevent yourself from saying that out loud. But when you think the worst part is over, you feel Adam's cold fingers lift your quivering chin up, and his thumb pulls the delicate flesh away from the sharp incisors.

It’s fine, just close your eyes and imagine Marcel.

Adam takes a step closer and your eyes intently follow his every move, looking away only when you feel something tug on your wedding dress. Your now husband's long fingers are playing with a longer piece of fabric, caressing the silk with care while looking like a predator toying with his meal.

He raises his hand with the piece still in his grasp and your intense gaze moves with it. You stay silent until he brings it in front of your face and is about to tie it around your eyes.

"Hey, whoa, what do you think you are doing?" You put your hand in between your face and the would-be blindfold, your wedding ring catching the light from Adam's halo and glimmering like a star in his face.

"Do you need step-by-step narration of my every move? I’m tying your eyes."

"No, you are not."

"Don’t be difficult."

Your eyebrows arch in bewildered astonishment. "I think I’ve been pretty compliant so far. And who even kisses with their eyes open?"

"I don’t trust you to keep them shut."

"And you married me? Make up your mind." You scoff while Adam sways your hand away and goes in to tie the piece. Somehow, the deep blackness disrupting your vision only makes you lippier. "Thanks, now I can imagine that I’m kissing Marcel— OW!" Adam tightens the blindfold with a bit more force before you can even finish your sentence, painfully tugging on your hair after a few errant strands got caught in the knot.

"Did you say something?"

You scrunch your nose and frown, but remain quiet.

The toga dress and blindfold combination probably make you look like the statue of Lady Justice — the only thing missing are the freaking scales. Pitty, those would be immensely useful for thwacking the angel in the head.

Silence befalls you when Adam steps back, and you are left to anxiously await his next move.

But nothing happens.

Your ears become hungry to hear something, anything. There is a soft, muffled sound akin to the rustling of clothing, as though Adam is walking away from you and your fingers twitch to extend your hand to grab him before he is gone. At the last minute, you stop yourself. Did you read the room wrong? Was Adam about to sacrifice you to some hungry, biblical entity instead of solidifying your union with a kiss?

Somewhere in front of you, you hear it — a faint click, followed by a heavy clank near your feet. You twist and lower your head in the direction of the sound as if you could see anything, until you feel what has now become a familiar touch — frigid and leathery. Gently, Adam takes hold of your chin and tilts your head upwards. A gust of breath fans your lips as they part with a faint gasp. Is he—

Warm, plump lips cautiously brush against your own, causing your heart to plummet into your stomach and your voice box to produce a low moan, which gets eagerly swallowed up by the other soul. Both of your lips move in tandem; the action itself is sensual, not sexual, but it goes on for way too long to be considered a conventional wedding kiss.

Your partner's hand sits nicely on your waist, fingers holding onto you as if you would disappear otherwise. This couldn't be Adam kissing you. It's unfathomable that the smug bastard you had the misfortune of getting to know in such a short time could show such care for another soul. And if you remember correctly, his demonic face didn’t have any lips to begin with.

Being deprived of one of your senses with the help of a blindfold, you resort to using what you do have. Your hand lifts to caress his cheek and brush against the soft skin, familiarising itself with something foreign to you. You try to sculpt the man’s face in your mind, wondering what colour his eyes are, the hue of his skin, and the placement of his beauty marks — that is, if he has any. Your thumb glides across the supple flesh as if through wet clay — as if he is malleable.

Your inquisitive touch elicits a grunt from the man and by the sound alone, you can instantly tell that it's indeed Adam who is kissing you. A very human Adam.

But as Adam's fingers travel downwards towards your supple hips, he quickly pulls away as if you bit him. Your lips detach with a wet pop and while you gasp for air, Adam opens his eyes to look at his hand, which is now saturated with blood.

Satin threads of your wedding dress voraciously drink the blood out of your palm, mimicking veins by quickly spreading the crimson fluid throughout the right side of the garment. This wasn’t angelic ichor. This was metallic, vital, impure blood. The kind that a sinner bleeds after being touched by the exorcist's blade — a reminder of your mortality and of the original sin of which you were not cured because you were still alive.

Adam was already causing trouble for the elders of Heaven. That was nothing new. But now, as he looks at his blood-covered hands, Adam realises how dangerously he is toeing the line by inviting something so impure into such a holy space. And worst of all, you didn't even want to be here. 

He looks at you — a white sacrificial lamb, tied with satin and ready for sacrifice. But instead of being gifted to God as a sign of love and devotion, you sacrificed yourself for a sinner in Hell, and Adam, even as he grappled with himself in his moment of clarity, still craved such love for himself. He is fucking Adam! He was entitled to love and when he wasn’t given that, he had the right to take it. He is the first fucking man!

But this meant that Adam was no better than Lucifer — no, he was even worse — he blackmailed you to be with him.

"Um.. Adam?"

Your voice is small, but it brings Adam's attention back to you all the same. Lips, red and glossy, are parted just a tiny bit as you take hungry breaths to sate your human lungs. What was he doing?

Adam quickly scrambles to put his mask back on before clearing his throat. "Why didn’t you say anything about your hand?"

You perk up at the sound of his voice and finally tug the blindfold away from your eyes, only to see yourself reflected in the dark, glossy finish of what you now know is a mask. For a moment, you allowed yourself to forget how you got into this situation and for what or whom. All you could think about was how maybe, just maybe, being Adam’s wife wouldn’t be so bad until you figured everything out. 

"There wasn’t a good time to bring it up."

He chuckles sardonically, "You had time to argue about which hand the ring should go on. The wound is literally dripping. The side of the dress is covered in blood."

A wedding is supposed to be a joyous event in a woman’s life, but the blood only serves to remind everyone that this union was anything but. It was kind of poetic, in a way.

"Sorry."

"No, it’s— I will take care of it when we get home."

His words don't bring you comfort. This wasn’t your home. Your home was on Earth, but for now, you could be content with at least staying in your current location. You wanted to stay here in the dimness, where it was bearable to endure your new life and where your new husband didn’t seem so bad. You liked to think this was a dream, you didn’t want the reality to set in fully. And maybe that's why you wanted to kiss Adam again — to lose yourself in the feeling for a few more seconds so that you wouldn't think of everything else. 

"How will I be able to live here?"

"Don’t worry your little head about that, hot stuff. You've been doing that more than enough. Let me deal with the boring bureaucracy while you play a good little wife for me at home. How does that sound, hm?”

Like a life sentence.

Adam doesn't wait for an answer. He snaps his fingers, producing golden sparks that turn into a big whirl of light in the same colour.

"After you."

Begrudgingly, you walk towards it. It takes you a few steps to reach the portal, but when you step through it, you get instantly teleported to Adam's intended destination — a spacious and tidy apartment. Too tidy. No one lives here type of tidy.

Yet, somehow, it still feels queerly homely. Maybe it's thanks to the pastel evening skies — spiling through the floor-to-ceiling windows into the open-floor apartment like watercolour on paper. Or perhaps it has something to do with Adam's scent permeating the whole space.

The portal closes behind you and only after taking a deep breath do you build enough courage to finally turn around and face Adam. The setting you are now in is more intimate and it's just the two of you here. 

When you turn around, his glowing eyes are already on you. Adam's gaze momentarily flickers towards your lips and you can feel your face grow hot.

But before either of you can move, a knock echoes throughout the room.

"Fuck, what is it now?" Adam whines but goes to see who it is anyway. "What, Lute?"

By moving your head a bit to the side, you can see more clearly who's at the door. Feet spread apart and arms behind her back, Lute, as Adam addressed the female angel, stands proud even if her uniform is marred with red blood, matching you in a way. You recognise her as one of the many similar-looking angels that were in Hell at the time of your descent. The last time you saw her, she had a mask on.

"Sir, the Seraphim wishes to see you. Immediately." Her voice is unwavering and without her mask on, the white-skinned angel's face seems to be stuck in a perpetual frown. You catch her eye from way across and it's obvious she's not a fan of you. You don't blame her.

"Fuck. Yeah, okay." Adam turns to you. "So, I gotta go for a bit. You know, duty calls. Your husband is a busy guy, but, um, don’t be afraid to explore. See you in a bit, hourglass."

The door shuts behind him, leaving you all alone with someone you didn't want to be isolated with — yourself.

Now, in the dead silence, your inner thoughts are the loudest — eating you alive alongside the corrosive feeling of guilt. Every single one of your choices, made throughout this one miserable day, is being scrutinised and the verdict is unanimous. It was all your fault and you had no one to blame but yourself.

You were so selfish with your actions that you didn’t stop to think of your loved ones, managing even to put an already dead Marcel in danger. You don’t even have any way to know if your sacrifice paid off. What if Adam is finishing the job right now? You would be none the wiser. And Seth, he was probably blaming himself for not trying harder to persuade you to let him take you home.

You slide down to the ground — virgin white pooling around you like bloody sea foam — and give yourself a hug. God knows how much you need one right now. You never felt as alone as you did at the moment.

Calling your mom would be nice. She always knew how to help. But you will probably soon meet her here because she wouldn’t survive your disappearance, your cruel mind supplies.

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes and run your fingers through your hair, imagining that it's your mother's soft touch instead. You can almost imagine yourself back at your childhood home, playing in the big garden barefoot and without a care. When you were little, you were always very inquisitive, wanting to know how everything came to be. And while your grandmother would shut you up by simply saying that God created everything, your mother spun all sorts of otherworldly tales that made your big eyes sparkle with wonder.

"Why is it called that, mommy? The trembling aspen? " You asked one day.

In hindsight, the answer is simple: because of its leaves, which tremble in the lightest breeze. However, you remember your mother smiling at you and whispering the tale as if it were the biggest secret.

"There once lived an old farmer whose three daughters went to bathe in the sea one day. When the youngest returned to the shore to get dressed, she found a serpent in her clothes. Speaking in a man's voice, the serpent demanded that she promise to become his wife in exchange for her clothes being returned. Faced with an immediate need to get dressed and not thinking about possible future consequences, the girl agreed ."

Now that you recall the whole story from the very beginning, it sounds a bit too familiar. Funny how Adam, a man who was once tricked by a serpent himself, acted the same as the reptile in the story your mother has told you. If only he knew that he wasn't superior to the creature he harbours the deepest hatred for.

"A few days later, a brood of serpents showed up at the girl's house to claim the promised bride. The girl's family tried to trick them, but they were unsuccessful. The serpents took her to the seashore, where the serpent king she promised to marry was now a handsome young man who took her to his palace under the sea."

You pause the memory to reminisce about your own wedding and how, like the serpent king, Adam wasn’t some sort of creature but a human soul underneath a mask. How warm his skin was compared to Heaven’s thinner atmosphere and his abrasive tongue, or how his stubble tickled your chin.

"Years passed and the couple had three sons and a daughter. One day, the girl became homesick and asked her husband to let her and the kids visit her childhood home. At first, the serpent was against it, but in the end, let them go. The girl's family was overjoyed to see her and didn't want her to leave, so her brothers decided to kill the serpent. They demanded that the children reveal how to lure their father out of the sea and while the sons refused to betray their father, the youngest daughter became frightened and revealed the secret. The brothers rushed to the seashore, called for the serpent and once he revealed himself, slaughtered him. In her grief, the girl transformed her brave sons into strong trees — oak, ash and birch — while she turned her cowardly daughter into a trembling aspen, cursed to shiver day and night from the slightest breeze. And then she turned herself into a spruce."

You lay your head on the floor, chilling your burning cheek against the cold ground as you gaze ahead, mulling over the story. It would be nice if you could turn yourself into a spruce, then maybe Adam could make new floorboards out of you if he liked to walk out on you that much.

Why you even cared, you couldn’t say. You guess it was loneliness speaking, and although this whole arrangement wasn’t born out of love, you deep down hoped that you could somehow make the best of your predicament.

But then he left you all alone, which quickly shattered your naive hopefulness. 

You have no idea how long you stayed in that position before finally finding the energy to peel yourself away from the floor and sit up straight. The next step is to stand up, but before tackling that daunting task, you really need to do something about your god-forsaken hand.

Doubtful that an immortal being would have a first-aid kit lying around in his home, you rip a lengthy piece of cloth from your dress and wrap it tightly around your palm. When that's taken care of, you rise to your feet and venture further into the house.

If Adam really is the first man, you understand the choice to have an open floor plan for the apartment. Seamlessly merging the living room and kitchen areas makes it more spacious and easier to breathe in. Spending the majority of one's life in the vastness that is the Garden of Eden and then having to make do with living surrounded by walls must be a difficult thing to adapt to.

The kitchen looks more like a showroom — all that’s missing are price tags and descriptions. The cabinets are empty, as is the fridge, and the small dining table has a thin coat of dust on it.

On the other hand, the living room area at least stays true to its name. It looks lived-in — the coach has a few throw pillows and a blanket on it, and there is clutter on the coffee table, as well as a few pieces of trash. Then something draws your attention.

You pass by a bunch of potted plants that you can't imagine him taking care of, and you stop in front of a television stand, its bottom shelf filled with vertically stored jewel cases. Where the spines are usually in a variety of different colours, these ones are all clear, and after further snooping, as you drag one out of its place, you understand why — they are all made by Adam and not purchased. Amidst the real, living-world bands that you recognise, there are also CDs with his own music.

Popping a random CD into a player that sits only a shelf above the cases, you press play and listen. Even though this one in particular had no vocals, you couldn't deny that Adam knew his way around the guitar. He does have long fingers that are able to reach certain cords.

You shake your head, trying to snap out of it, and when you quickly stand up after turning off the player, you spot something that would be a huge help in forgetting — a fully stocked wine display lodged into the wall near the TV.

Your bare feet scurry across the floor faster than your brain can think. However, you hesitate before actually reaching for a bottle. Adam did say it was your home, too, but somehow it feels like stealing. Then again, you are celebrating your wedding, so why not?

Without a struggle, the smooth redwood rack departs with the bottle of your choosing. It feels heavy in your hands as you turn it to look at the label. Brushing away any dust, you break off the seal and twist the cork to work it from the neck of the wine bottle until it comes out with a deafening pop.

"That’s not enough to scare me. If you only knew what kind of day I had today.” Your lament is directed at the bottle as you take a swig of what’s inside. The wine burns your throat, leaving an acidic aftertaste behind. You lick the tartness from your lips and go for another gulp. And then another one.

And one more.

Clutching the half-drunk bottle to your chest, you grab another one from the rack and resume your trip around the place. The wine kicks in relatively soon on an empty stomach, making you bump into the furniture in a matter of minutes.

Even if there is more than plenty of room for your own stuff in the apartment, all of your personal items, trinkets with tied-in memories, and hobby supplies are not here with you but somewhere far away. You have nothing to put there to make you feel like you are at home. You are an outsider, and as you recall the way Lute was glaring, you are not the only one who feels that way.

After you open the second bottle, you are no longer interested in getting familiar with the place. You exit the open area and move towards the dark corridor, where you stumble through the first door on the right into a bedroom.

You take the last sip and place the empty bottle near the door before walking towards the bed. The clock on the bedside table reads half past eleven, and the sky outside has only now started to darken. Everything is now spinning, but at least your head feels as light as a feather. You can’t be bothered to think about anything. 

Good.

You lie on the soft comforter and roll further onto the bed, burying your face in the pillows. The clean and fresh smell envelops you, and you let out a yawn. 

You will do your best to make the most of this situation, starting tomorrow.

My first crushes ever TOGETHER!?

DEADPOOL & WOLVERINE dir. Shawn Levy (2024)

My favorite thing that happens in vox x reader fics is that when we’re dating Vox, Valentino just IMMEDIATELY invites himself into the relationship 😭

I love it cuz

1: That’s so him and

2: I want him too 💀

It’s just the thought that Valentinos like oh Vox has a gf now? Lemme see what the hype is about-

And Vox being a pathetic lil piss baby and not being able to tell Val no-

Reader just going along for the ride ❤️

Bad idea, right?

Adam x fem!reader

Summary: You weren’t really known for your good decision making skills.

Part 2

CW/TW: first attempt at smut, Adam is his own warning, unsafe sex, semi public, college au!!!, dubious consent if you squint, oral both reciving, p in v

The golden door knob of the bathroom door dug uncomfortably into your lower back, and outside of the room music was playing loudly. And even though the bathroom was neatly stocked and you usually take your time to snoop around and steal stuff from frat parties, right now all you could focus on was Adam’s hand in the back of your neck, forcefully frenching you while he pinned you against the door.

The kiss was disgustingly wet, teeth clanking together and his tongue shoved down your throat. And it was still the best make out session you ever had with anyone.

And the best part of it all? His tongue piercing. Hottest thing you have ever experienced.

When your lips disconnected you were connected by a string of saliva. But it seemed like Adam hated the mere thought of not touching you in anyway. The hand on your neck quickly moved towards your hips, together with his other one. Shit. His hands are huge. Fuck that, he was big in general. He had to bend his neck and back at an awkward angle to be able to kiss you.

Golden eyes starred right into your own eyes. His pupils were blown wide and his lips were pink and wet, his face in general was slightly flushed. You wish you could keep your composure like that. Your whole body felt hot, and you probably also looked that part. The way Adam smirked at you confirmed your fear. Before you could throw some sort of remark at him, he started kissing and biting your neck.

You couldn’t suppress the surprised gasp leaving your mouth and the shaky call of Adam’s name. Adam’s right hand weaselled his way under your shirt groping your tits, while his left hand went towards your ass, making itself at home in the back of your jeans pocket.

Your own hands grasped at Adam’s hair. Fingers digging into the surprisingly silky thick strands. Adam groaned at the seemingly present feeling. His left hand gave your ass a generous squeeze before he removed it and moved it towards unbuttoning your jeans.

“Adam-" you shakily called out, but you were interrupted by your own moan from Adam biting extra hard at your shoulder. Adam rolled his own hips into your own, or well, more like into your stomach because what the fuck why is he so tall and so big and has such broad shoulders and Jesus even his bulge is big can you really take that??

Collecting all your strength and will power, you pushed at Adam’s shoulders to give yourself some sort of space. Even though that push was weak as fuck, Adam followed your wish and gave you some space. A little. His hips were still flush with your own but at least he straightened his back a little and you guys weren’t breathing in the same air anymore. Your hand was still grasping at Adam’s shoulder, into his black shirt. Because you truly didn’t want him to leave. He raised his pierced brow in question at you.

“Dude, we won’t have sex in a bathroom. At a party.” You told him straight up. Your dignity couldn’t take it. And also if someone found out you were fucking your ex boyfriends most hated band member, at the nasty frat party he was throwing, in his bathroom, you would kill yourself from sheer embarrassment.

Adam rolled his eyes at you, as if you just told him the stupidest thing he has ever heard. His hands were on your hips now, massaging soothing circles into the plush flesh. You didn’t notice it, like 2 minutes ago, but thanks to Adam’s skilled fingers your pants were shimmed down a good bit, fully exposing your panties. Great. Since you didn’t plan to hook up with anyone today, you just had to wear your baby pink panties with the ugliest bow sewn into the front.

“Mmm, babe, who gives a fuck? People fuck at parties alllll the time, just.. relax, baby.” His thumb was now playing with the hem of your underwear.

Shaking your head at him, you tried to collect your 1 whole brain cell to remind you how bad of a decision this was. Using one hand to pull up your pants, you wanted to use to other hand, which was still holding unto Adam to push him away once and for all, but he was quicker than you. Damn you, guitarists players. He easily grasped both your wrists into his one hand and used the other one to pull you flush against him.

“Jesus! Alright, alright, we don’t have to fuck. We can do other fun stuff though.”

Before you could ask him what the fuck he’s talking about, he kissed you again. Probably to shut you up. He’s one to talk, you don’t think Adam has ever shut up, in his life.

Still keeping his tongue inside your mouth, and his hand on your body, he herded you away from the door. Which you didn’t even notice because all you could think and sense was him, till he sat you down at the edge of the bathtub. Your bare ass meet the cold porcelain, because Adam was already pulling both your jeans and underwear off. He was kneeling down in-front of you, a nice sight you had to admit.

Adam was currently grumbling to himself, because to properly take off your clothes he had to also take off your shoes and all he wanted was to get his dick wet and now he’s on his knees undressing you while his dick aches. Thankfully it didn’t take long for him to slip you out of your shoes, and in his slight frustration he simply threw them over his head, not caring where they landed.

“Fucking hell, you really know how to make a guy work for it, huh? Spread your legs, slut.” Adam placed his hands on your knees, his eyes were flickering between your hidden core and your eyes.

“What? No more ‘Babe’ and ‘Baby’. Sooo rude of you.” You teased him with a grin on your face. Actually you were nervous, no one ever went down on you. But, well, it’s not like you go around sleeping with everyone. You only ever slept with your ex and that experience was so horrid that you considered celibacy. Shit, if Adam wasn’t such a charming asshole you would have tried to shake him off like 3 make out sessions ago. But no, he had to spin your head around and made your insides into molten lava. Fuck.

“You really want to test my fucking patience? Dumb bitch…” He took matter into his own hands and gripped at your thighs to pull them apart. Even though his words implied something else, he was still gentle.

You quickly shut your legs again, your knees knocking together painfully at the force you used. Adam seemed to be even more aggravated.

“Wait!..Uh..I..Didn’t shave..?” You carefully spoke the words out loud. God help you. What did you even want. Do you want to leave?..No. You just need to get over yourself. Easier said than done.

“Babe, does it look like I give a shit?” Adam raised a pierced eyebrow at you. He gently rubbed your knees, looking into your eyes. And then he started laughing in realisation.

“What a fucking limb dick! You’re joking! Fucking useless excuse of a man. Next you’re going to tell me you’re a virgin.” Ah shit, he figured it out. Your body ran even hotter at Adam’s mocking of your ex. AH.

Adam’s face seemed to turn giddy, “Are you?”

You shook your head at his question.

“Eh, whatever. It’s better this way. Virgins they get sooo fucking clingy, it ain’t cute . But don’t worry, babe, it doesn’t matter how many guys you have fucked since I’m going to be last one.”

Before you could question him, he used your moment of confusion to settle properly between your thighs and he licked a broad strip up your pussy.

A moan escaped your lips, while one hand tangled into Adam’s hair and the other one covered the lower half of your face. Biting at your lip, you tried to remind yourself to breathe.

The delicious contrast between his hot tongue and cold piercing made you feel dizzy. You need him, genuinely.

Adam’s thick fingers found your entrance easily. He gently eased one finger in, which wasn’t hard since fuck you were wet from simply being near him.

His tongue drew pattern into your clit while his finger gently pushed in and out of you. Wait..Was he fucking spelling his name into your clit???

Your eyes where closed while you tried to focus on relaxing.

Adam’s free hand snacked up your torso and he pulled your shirt down, exposing your bra. With skill he was able to free your one (1) boob from the bra, and he pinched your nipple. Hard. At the same time his lips left your cunt and he also bit the inside of your thigh.

“Ouch! What the hell! Can’t you bite and pinch in a sexy way?” You asked him while starring into his golden eyes.

“Eyes on the price, baby, or I might just leave you high and dry.” He smirked at you, and when his lips returned to your desired place, he made sure to hold uncomfortable eye contact with you. Asshole.

Even though you were embarrassed to hell and back, you kept your own eyes trained on his. Fuck, he was good at this. You really were missing out till now. Keeping your moans and whimpers of Adams name at bay was near impossible.

He slowly entered another thick finger, stretching you out deliciously. And with a come hither movement of his fingers, he hit places which you didn’t even know existed.

“Fuck, Adam, please don’t stop pleasepleasepleaseplease-“ You couldn’t keep your composure anymore. What kind of witchcraft is he using that he can make you fall apart like that.

Adam stuffed you full with a third finger, sucking at you clit and carefully nipping it with his teeth. It wasn’t a big surprise, with the constant stimulation, that you came all over Adam’s face. Your thighs squished Adam’s head and your eyes were squeezed shut, while your fingers were tugging at Adam’s head. If you wanted to tug him away or towards you, you weren’t too sure.

Carefully removing his lips from your overly sensitive private parts, Adam whipped his face with the back of his hand while chuckling. Sucking his own fingers dry while starring into your soul, you tried to catch your breath.

“Aww, was that my baby’s first orgasm?” He mockingly cooed you. Adam got up from his kneeling position and rubbed his knees.

“Shut up.” You simply told him. Yeah, very creative of you.

Adam grabbed your cheeks into his hand and squeezed them together, “You ready to suck the best dick you will ever get?” He asked you while grabbing his hard dick through his cargo pants.

You turned your head slightly, trying to bite the thumb near your mouth. Adam took the opportunity to graze his thumb over your canine while you bit down on his thumb. You made sure not to actually hurt him. He smiled down at you and moved his thumb to massage your tongue.

You couldn’t help but to wrap your lips around his thumb and to suck it and stroke your tongue against the underside of it.

“Fuckkk babe, giving me a taste of how heavenly it will be? Jesus, I hope for you, you have a weak gag reflex.” He unbuckled his heavy, studded belt and unbuttoned his jeans to pull them down, together with his boxers. They had guitar prints on them. Cute.

Right. You really bit of more than you could chew. His huge fucking hands should have been your first warning.

So yeah, his dick was big. Huge, even. So what. You could handle that. Maybe you should have written your testament before coming to the party. Oh my god, how embarrassing will be this? Cause of death: Choked on a huge dick.

Of fucking course he had an prince albert piercing. The sluttiest piercing known to man. The golden, curved rod really suit him tho.

“Bitch, I swear to fuck, if you say that you don’t give blowjobs I’m going to-“ Adam slightly threatened you.

Rolling your eyes at his rambling, you wrapped your fingers around his cock and carefully licked his tip. You tried not to think too much about the fact that your fingers could barley wrap themselves around him. Adam’s hands immediately tangled themselves up in your hair, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail to keep the hair out of your face.

You tried to get as much spit on Adam’s member as you could, the more the better.

“Ah, fuck yeah, I love when bitches slobber all over my dick.” Adam smirked down at you.

Your lips were already wrapped around his tip, your tongue playing with the piercing. Even though you avoided it till now, you looked up at Adam to glare at him.

Obviously Adam didn’t take your glare serious, urging you with a hand at the back of your head to take in more of him. Rolling your eyes at his nonsense you obliged him, trying to relax your throat and to take more into your mouth. You really had to focus on breathing through your mouth.

Adam booped your nose, making you look up at him, “Shit, babe, you’re so goddamn pretty.” He mumbled.

His dick is down your throat AND that’s what’s making you blush. Ugh. You’re weak.

“Cmon, keep looking at me with those slutty eyes. Don’t you want to make daddy feel good?” Part of you cringed at his words, the other part got even more turned on. This was something you needed to addresses within yourself at 3 am when you’re questioning all of your life decisions.

In your try to get him even deeper down your throat, he hit the back of it, causing you to choke. Ugh. Adam groaned at the feeling. He trailed a finger across your throat, “Chillax, sweetie.”

His hips rolled forward, testing the limits of your gag reflex, “..But don’t worry, baby, we can train that gag reflex of yours away. It’s hot anyways when whores gag on my huge dick.”

Can he just shut up? You’re already sucking his dick, he doesn’t need to talk about other girls.

Even though you had your lips wrapped around your teeth to keep from hurting him, because of his words you slightly grazed the underside of his cock with your teeth.

Adam yanked you off his dick by your hair, glaring at you, “Watch it, whore.”

You couldn’t help the whine which escaped your throat at the lack of contact. But also your fucking jaw hurt already.

“That’s what I fucking thought. How about you beg for me to shove my dick down your throat, huh? Acting all ungrateful and shit..”

You pressed your lips tightly together. Could you get over your pride by begging for dick? Adam’s dick at that? The most obnoxious guy on campus?

Before this you have never really interacted with Adam, you only ever saw him in passing, thanks to your ex. The rumours floating around didn’t help you with truly ever interacting with him. But one thing you always were sure of with Adam, he had a starring problem. His golden eyes seemed to be constantly trained on your figure. So it didn’t really surprise you that he wanted you to keep your eyes on him.

“Adam, please…” You whimpered out. He has bewitched you body mind and pussy because what the fuck.

“Please what, slut?” His thumb was rubbing at your cheek gently.

Fucking hell, even though you just came your pussy was aching. And it was not like you didn’t sit right in front of the solution to your problems.

Making sure to look Adam in his half lidded when you gave your impression of puppy eyes or doe eyes or whatever stupid eyes could get him to fill you up.

“Adam, please I need you to fuck my..pussy. Please?” You asked him. Ah. You hate begging and dirty talk, most humbling experience in your life.

Adam seemed rather pleased at your words, till you got to the part where you asked him to fuck your pussy, at the prospect of that he turned down right giddy. Grasping under your arms, he pulled you up. A surprised little gasp left your lips, as you hang in the air for a second. Great, he’s strong. Why are you surprised? You knew that.

“Oh, baby, I can give it to you however you want. Against the wall? On the floor? Want to ride me till your little legs give out? I can fuck you in front of those idiots who think they deserve to simply look at you.” Adam grinned down at you.

All you could do was gap at him like a fish out of water. Your brain is fried. Adam could tell by the smirk adoring his face, because of course he could, “But apparently I already finger fucked that little brain of yours out off your head. Need me to make the big decisions, huh?”

You simply shook your head at him. Adam bend down to kiss you, tongue first obviously. You wrapped your arms around his neck. His hands were on your bare ass, squeezing and groping. With his body he herd you towards the sink. With great displeasure he ended the kiss, he gently turned you around, bending you over the sink carefully. When you looked up, you made direct eye contact with your mirror image. Ew. You looked messy af.

Letting your eyes wander even more up, you looked at Adam who stood behind you. His own eyes were focused on your ass. Or maybe your pussy. It was hard to tell. When he looked into the mirror he grinned at you. His hand softly ran over your back and butt, making you relax your muscles.

“Alright baby, you just gotta chillax for me. ‘Tis might be a stretch…” Adam slowly rubbed the tip of his dick against your clit and entrance while watching intensely your face through the mirror.

“Adam..Cmon don’t tease me.” You whined out.

“Don’t have to tell me twice, babe.”

And with that he slowly entered his thick tip into your tight cunt. His hands were on your hip, softly massaging them.

A stretch summoned it up pretty well, but it felt delicious. Thank Adam for his prep, otherwise you would have died. And you would have truly pulled through on that celibacy promise.

Moaning shamelessly, you bit your finger in an attempt to quiet down. Fuck fuck fuck, who knew Adam could hit all those spots.

“Fuuuck, you’re really sucking me in. Vice fucking grip, you really don’t want to let me go, huh?” A breathy laugh left his pink lips. His tongue wet his lips and then he bit down on it.

With every rock of his hips he entered more and more into you. Shit, he seems endless. Adam’s lips grazed across the back of your neck and shoulder blades. His stumbles scratched your skin deliciously. Sloppy kisses were placed on your shoulders.

“ Shit, if you keep squeezing me like that I won’t last long.” Adam mumbled into your skin. It seemed like those words weren’t meant for your ears.

You rested your heated cheek against the cool sink, so you could also successfully avoid looking at yourself being fucked into oblivion.

“Adam..” An especially well placed roll of his hips broke your sentence of in a moan, “You ever..Fuck! Ever thought about having a smaller dick..ha. Splitting me in two, Jesus.”

Adam raised his hand and spanked your ass, then he made sure to whisper directly into your ear, “Aww, my poor baby, gonna tap out? My dick too big to fit into that tight pussy? Shit, baby, I’m going to ruin you for anyone else. I will fuck you loose.”

Before you could tell him that, that is in fact not how that works, he started to pistol his hips into your own.

Grasping at the edges of the sink, you gasped and moaned at the amazing feeling. You get sex addicts now.

Adam mumbled something’s to himself, through your own haze of pleasure you only grasped a few words.

Grasping one hand under your chest, Adam hoisted you up so that your upper body was bend up. Your back against his chest. His own face was right besides yours, turning your face towards his. Your lips crashed into each other. With his one hand he fondeled and pinched your nipple of your still freed tit.

You stopped the kiss to gasp for air, while Adam seemed to have the time of his life, “Watcha think babe, think we should get these here pierced?” To emphasise he his words, he gave an extra hard tug to your nipple. All you could muster up was a pathetic whine.

How he can talk so much while you’re basically brain dead was beyond you.

Adam snaked the other hand down your body, gently rubbing circles into your clit.

You would like to personally thank other woman Adam has ever slept with who made him into this sex god. Because my god, does he have magic fingers. And a magic tongue. And a magic dick. He’s also a great kisser. And is handsome. And rich. His style is also decent. Now, all you need is to fix up his personality, and he would be perfect.

“You close, baby?” Adam groaned into your ear.

Nodding your head furiously, a hit of clarity washed over your brain, “Wait- Adam..Do..Ah! Don’t come inside, ‘m not on birth control.”

This seemed to straight up turn Adam even more on.

“Don’t talk dirty to me, slut. Want me to knock you up? Make you all round ‘n shit?” His one hand moved from your boob to your stomach, grabbing the plushy flesh.

You tried to shake your head, but shit his words turned you on so much. You're realising more about yourself during a one night stand than during your therapy sessions. What does that say about you?

“Shit, the way you’re squeezing me just screams yes.” Adam went to apply more pressure on your clit, causing you to sob due the overwhelming pleasure.

And just like that you came around his dick, you felt yourself squeeze him dry. It didn’t take long for Adam to come after you. You felt his hot cum fill you up.

Adam left soft kisses across your neck and shoulder soothing rubbing his hands all over your body. You focused yourself on breathing in and out while steadying your breath.

Carefully Adam slipped out of your abused hole, but he kept his arms wrapped around your stomach. You leaned your back against Adam’s broad chest, your legs felt weak as hell.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, it made you realise how bad you actually looked. You can’t step outside like that. Obviously your whole body was flushed. The neck line of your shirt was pulled down your boobs, showing off your bra while only one tit was actually out. Most of your skin was covered in hickies and bite marks while your hair looked like a birds nest. You’re wearing 0 pants and Adam’s cum was slowly dripping down your thights. Great, now you have to go and buy plan b.

Properly fixing your bra and shirt, to at least make you feel somewhat better, you tried ti smooth out your hair next.

“What’s your opinion on that?” Adam’s chin was resting on your shoulder while he was watching intensely.

“..What? Getting knocked up?? Horrible.” You frowned at him.

“Would be hot. Nah, getting you pierced up, babe.” Adam’s grin pisses you off lowkey. Note to yourself: never trust Adam with birth control.

You scoffed at him, “Isn’t the healing process annoying?”

“Nah, it ain’t that bad.”

“How would you even know?”

Taking a half step back, an arm still wrapped around you though, he pulled up his black shirt. Showing off his own golden nipple piercings. Ok, thats sexy.

Averting your own eyes, you looked around the bathroom to look for your panties and pants. Ah, they’re still by the bathtub.

Adam was once again close to you, now he was smoothing down your hair.

You have listened to your friends bitch and moan about situation ships who they can’t get enough off. And you had to admit, you didn’t fucking get it. But now, with Adam’s lips against your hair line? Yeah. You’re whipped now.

Useless fuck boys.

Adam scratched at his stubbly chin, “I gotta piss, slut. Want to hold it while I do?”

“No.” What the fuck.

“Your loss, bitch.” He shrugged at you.

Shaking of his arms, you waddled around to put on your pants. You tried to avoid looking at Adam real hard. When you were fully dressed, you stole a glance at Adam. Yup, he was standing at the toilet. Fucker.

Looking around, you found your shoes near the door. Walking over, you stumbled around to put them properly on.

Putting your ear against the door, you tried to listen for any foot steps or chatting. Sadly the sound of Adam and the music outside made it really hard. Should you really go through the door? What else could you do?

And there was a knock now on the door, making you jump up.

“Occupied!” Adam yelled out.

“Dude, this bath has been occupied for over 30 minutes now! Get the fuck out!” Ah shit, that’s the voice of your ex. Now you’re really going to die.

Covering your mouth with your hand, you looked helplessly towards Adam, who was now zipping up his pants.

He walked over and was about to unlock the door, when you slapped away his hand.

You mouthed “What the fuck!” At him. Adam simply rolled his eyes at you and then raised his eyebrow at you. Yeah. What were you going to do?

Wait…This bathroom was at ground level. Looking around, you spotted the window behind the bathtub. Quickly walking over, you opened up the window and looked outside. Ok, no one is there. And you can easily climb out.

Swinging your leg over, you carefully slided down towards the ground.

You heard a “What the hell.” From Adam, before the sound of the door unlocking ringed out.

“Jesus dude, it smells like fucking sex in here. Don’t tell me..” Before you could fully listen in on the conversation you decided to fuck off.

Pulling out your phone, you looked up a 24 hour pharmacy near you. It wasn’t that far away from your apartment. With a sigh you started to walk towards your destination. You pointedly ignored all the texts from your friends. You really needed to collect your thoughts now.

Standing still on the side walk, you realised that Adam neither flushed the toilet nor washed his hands. That’s who you let it hit?? Why can’t you be attracted to normal guys, but no you’re into the trashiest of the trash.

The light of a car flashed you in the face, and the car stopped besides you.

“You still want plan b?” Adam called out through the open window.

Starting a mental battle and immediately losing it, you got into the passenger seat.

Adam’s eyes traveled over your figure before he put the car into drive and started driving towards the pharmacy. It was a quick drive and before you could unbuckle your seat belt Adam already got out and walked in.

While Adam was away you took the time to look around. Those were pretty leather seats and this car looked down right expensive. It smelled like his cologne in here.

Adam was one of the many nepo babies at your college. Your ex was also one of them. Even though they dressed in an alternative style, these guys never had to truly struggle, never experienced hunger. Part of you was envious of that.

Adam got back into the driver seat, slamming his door shut. He carelessly threw the pill package into your lap with a cold water bottle.

“..Thanks.” Ripping apart the package, you placed the pill under your tongue while putting the bottle to your lips and then you swallowed it down.

Once you stopped drinking, you wiped away the water with the back of your hand.

Adam took your cheeks into his hand, squeezing it. You furrowed your brows at him in question.

…Ah.

Opening up your mouth, your lifted your tongue up and moved it around to show him you really did swallow the pill. Maybe he should just not cum inside you, problem solved.

“Shit babe, next time I gotta cum down your little throat.”

Next time, huh.

I love a man who YEARNS 😫

Hey I just wanted to say I'm OBSESSED WITH chubby servant reader x knight 😭🙏 I honestly love anything you write with them

As much as I wanna be a horny pervert, I kinda want some fluff 😭 (I'm sure there are enough horny perverts in the ask to make up for this 💀)

One of the reasons I LOVE this series is the way they YEARN for each other, especially the knight 💜

Can I ask for some more pre-relationship shenanigans?

Ahhhh thank you thank you, i have become obsessed with them!! And your ask gives me the perfect opportunity to share his name!!

"How was the knighting yesterday?"

"Oh, quite nice. The ladies looked so lovely in their dresses. And the new knights are quite handsome." She looks at you with a smile. "And of course the food was magnificant."

"You flatter me, Cathy," you say, smiling back at her, going back to kneeding your loaf.

"I heard there was a man who was knighted that was especially handsome. Pray tell, is it true?"

"Ah, to some he is. He made the princess giggle when he kissed her hand." The women coo and lean closer to the speaker. "He was quite handsome indeed. Perhaps his jaw is sharper than his sword." The women fall into a fit of giggles but continue their work.

"Do you know his name?"

"Why? So you can try to seduce him?" The woman denies it but is blushing furiously, shaking her hands.

"Oh, but I'm curious, Cathy! Please, tell us his name so we may know who we are speaking of."

"Fair, fair." She brings her hands to her chest, looking off into the distance, thinking. "His name... oh, it was... Adam... Adam... Fischer! Adam Fischer, that is who he was."

He sees you by accident at first.

He was ordered to guard this section of the grounds tonight, and he takes his time to admire his new home in detail. The gardens here are lovely, vast and expanse.

He sees open windows, and the flickering of a fire. He decides to investigate.

When he approaches, he is able to see into the kitchen. He sees you sitting by the fire, your back to him, bonnet discarded and hair loose. You are writing something fervently, too enraptured by your words to notice that he is right there, watching you.

You put down your pencil and stretch upwards, moaning softly at the action. He stares at you, your free hair, the curve of your bodice. He has not seen your face, but he decides you are beautiful.

You rise from the chair and he panics, tiptoeing quickly to a nearby tree and hiding his frame, still watching. You approach the windows, leaning forward and closing your eyes, soaking in the moonlight. He sees the way it makes your skin glow, and his heart flutters.

You close the windows one by one. He waits, then moves back toward the kitchen window, to see if he can catch a glimpse of you again.

By the time he reaches the window, the fire is out.

The next time he sees you, there is more purpose behind it.

He has returned from training on the outer walls. He is tired, and so is his horse, but the two return together to the stables.

To his surprise, you are there.

He recognizes you from a distance as he dismounts his horse. You are speaking with the young stable boys, holding a basket over your arm.

He approaches, curious.

"What is one and one?"

"Two!" cheers one of the boys.

"Very good!" You hand him an apple from your basket. "Now, what is two and two?"

"F-Four!" chimes in another. You hand him an apple, smiling.

"And four with four?" The boys quiet, glancing at each other. One of them lifts his fingers slowly, staring at them.

"Sev... eight?" he asks, looking up at you. You clap with joy.

"Yes, yes! Very good, my love." You give an apple, which he takes happily. "Very good, my boys, very good!"

"I do not believe these are children, my lady."

You jolt, looking up at him. He towers over you, as he does with many others, but for some reason seeing you look up at him gives him a different feeling.

"I, um... no, sir, they are not mine."

"But you feed them and teach them numbers?"

"I... uh..."

"You are not in trouble, my lady. I am merely asking."

"I... yes, I do."

He hums. His squire approaches, takes his horse from him before walking away again. He raises his hand towards you.

"May I?"

You stare at his hand, then at your apples.

"I... what is... what is three fortnights?"

He stares at you, thinking you are joking. When you don't give him the apple, he thinks.

"It's... eight, two... forty two nights, my lady."

You blink. A smile creeps up on your face, and he does not think he has ever seen anything so lovely.

"Very good, sir."

You give the apple to his outstretched hand. He takes it, briefly admiring how small and soft your hands look compared to his. You clear your throat, making him look at you.

"I-I must be on my way, children. I have dinner to prepare. Now, what do you say?"

"Thank you lady Y/N!" they cheer in unison, making your smile widen.

"Very good." You turn to him and briefly curtsy before scurrying off to what he assumes is the kitchen.

He savors the apple after dinner. It is sweet, and he thinks only of you as he bites into it.

"What do you think of lady Y/N?" he asks on the next expedition. His captain glances at him, then back to the trail.

"She is a fine lady. She gives sweet things to the younglings and teaches them to write. Why do you speak of her?"

"I was merely curious," he lies.

"She is cursed!" one of the younger men announces, riding his steed closer. "She seduced a man before he went to battle, and then he died. She should not be messed with."

"Wha—"

"She is not a witch, Michael," another man chimes in. "They were in love. They were to marry, but the war started before they could wed. Twas merely battle that made him lose his life, not witchcraft."

"Regardless," Michael moves his horse closer to Adam, "you should steer clear of her. Besides," he gives Adam a knowing smile, "I heard the princess is very fond of you. Why not pursue her?"

"I have no interest in that brat." The men of the party 'oo' in shock.

"You should not speak of the princess in such a way, Sir Adam! She is a fine woman, who reads and studies art. You don't meet many women like that nowadays."

"You would, Sir Michael," he says, looking at the younger man, "if you knew where to look."

He kicks his horse and moves past the rest of the party, trying to clear his head.

When they reach a town, they find a tavern. They eat and drink and play silly games when a woman in the corner of the room catches their eye. She claims to be a witch. She has a ball of glass or crystal before her, urging them forward. The other soldiers go first, paying a gold coin to hear their fortune.

"Come, Sir Adam, have your fortune read."

"I do not wish to waste my gold on childish games."

"Well, then I shall give you a coin."

He is pushed towards the table, into the chair before the cloaked woman. She takes the coin from Michael, and smiles.

"Think of what you want most, and it shall appear to me here." She motions towards the clear ball. He sighs, sitting back and thinking. The ball becomes clouded, most likely due to a party trick, and she leans in close.

"I see..." She cocks her head, furrowing her brow. "I... I see..."

"Well? What do you see, woman?"

"I... my lord, I am sorry, but... are you perhaps hungry?"

"What?" The men crowd the table, trying to see into the ball. "What do you see?"

"I... I see a loaf of bread, sir."

Adam gawks, leaning closer.

"You... you see what?"

"Bread, sir."

"What kind?"

"I-I do not know, sir. Tis merely there, with a design."

"Can you draw it for me?"

She pauses.

"For another coin, I can."

He scurries to give her a coin, watching her take a pencil and paper and draw the design from the crystal ball. When she is done, he takes it, staring at the design, memorizing it, still thinking of you.

He carries it the entire expedition. Some of the men tease him for holding so tightly to a drawing of bread, but he does not care. Every night he stares at it, memorizing each line like scripture. He thinks of you all the while, even as he stuffs the drawing in his pocket and takes out his cock.

When the party returns from the journey, he rushes to the kitchen. If it is truly fate, the bread in the kitchen will have a score just like the one on his paper.

When he arrives, the bread is being pulled from the ovens. You are not there, much to his dismay, but he checks each loaf of bread regardless. When he finds that none of them look like the picture at all, his shoulders sag, the paper falling from his hand to the floor.

The other knights do not ask what happened when he returns. They can see the answer from his face alone.

He is still glum by morning, not wanting to get out of bed, not wanting to go to the dining hall to eat. But he must continue, despite everything.

The knights are giving him knowing looks when he finally arrives to the hall. They smile, raise their brows, and he squints in confusion. He finds his seat, reaching for the bread, although he's not sure he can stomach it.

The bread.

He bolts upright, grabbing the load before another soldier can grab it to cut. The design, it is exactly what the drawing showed, the drawing he memorized so clearly over so many nights.

The knights laugh as he runs from the dining hall, carrying the loaf of bread.

When he reaches the kitchen, he is breathless. The ladies working stop, stare at him, confused and perhaps frightened.

"Is something wrong, my lord?" one of the women asks, making you look up and stare at him. He stares back, panting.

"Who..." He inhales deep, standing straighter. "Who scored the bread?"

The ladies instinctively look at you. You bring your hands to your chest.

"D-Did I offend you, sir?"

"No, no, I..." He takes a step forward, holding the bread so hard that it cracks. "How did you come up with the design?"

"I... I found a drawing, sir." You reach into your pocket and unfold the paper he dropped, placing it on the table. "I thought it was quite lovely. I thought the queen would enjoy it, s-so I practiced on the loaves for the rest of the castle."

He huffs, his lips curling. You swallow, glancing at the other women, in search of help, but they stay silent.

"I-I am sorry if you do not like it, sir. I-I know that it is far too... delicate for the knights." You reach for the loaf in his hand. "I shall bring you a normal, fresh loaf in a moment."

"No!" The women in the room jolt at his booming voice. He brings the bread loaf to his chest, shaking his head. "No, I... I do not wish for another loaf. I shall have this one, and nothing more."

The silence in the room is overwhelming. He glances around the others' faces before falling back to yours. He bows and leaves.

He returns to the dining hall. He eats nothing but the loaf he had taken. The knights chuckle about it for the rest of the day, but he does not care. All he can think of is you.

Oh my 😩😩😩😩

Updated my Sinner Adam’s design for the new year! How y’all like him?

All I did was tweak his color palette and make him a little scruffier if that counts as anything 😅

Aaand it's all over the screen 💔

Valentino in his new valentine outfit