#I DID make sure to cover the stuff we discussed
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A Doe in Fall (Part 3)
⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall
Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦
Part 2 - Liar smut💦
Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦
Part 4 - Enough
Part 5 - Too Much
Part 6 - Learning smut💦
Part 3 A tragedy
So enraptured with Alastor, you forgot how you left work on Saturday. Tommy didn’t forget. And he made sure you remembered. Unfortunately for him, and fortunately for you, your paramour made a habit of helping quicken karma’s balancing act.
「warnings/promises: immediate physical assault (let’s be up front about that), allusions to sexual assaults having happened in the past to non-reader characters, HumanAlastor x FemReader, penetrative sex, Protective Alastor, bruises, somewhat graphic descriptions of murder, mentions to coerced prostitution, sex near a corpse (words that have the FBI watching me), stabbing, knife, bad burlesque names, gambling, my own new HC for the Radio Demon’s origins, another deer reference thanks to @n-after-me , chin quivering, Tommy doesn’t know French and it shows, posted early for @jazzmasternot, wrath」
Minors DNI 🤺
You walked into the theatre for rehearsals with a pep in your step, body still humming. It was like the usual adrenaline rush Alastor brought couldn't fade this time.
But it did, when Tommy grabbed you by the hair out of your makeup chair and threw you into the wall.
You couldn’t react, head ringing after it left a small indent in the drywall. Unlike before, you didn’t try to stand. Make him work for his second hit. And he did. Leaning down he yanked you off the ground by your arm and dragged you to your feet.
“Do you think you’re funny?” He shook you, you were sure you could feel your brain jostle. It was rhetorical, but you replied anyway.
“No, Tommy.”
“No. Exactly.” He backed you up onto the make up table, head pressed into the mirror. “Mr. Wilson was not happy. He pulled his contribution. I know you don’t have that kind of money. Do you know what you’re gonna do?”
His fingers dug into your cheeks, “No.” You genuinely didn’t. He was talking to you like you had been in the loop on whatever it was he had been doing on the side. All of this was as shocking to you as your actions were, apparently, to him.
“You’re gonna take whatever meetings I make until that money is back.” He let go of you and turned to leave but changed his mind. Coming back, he swung his fist and clocked you on the left side of your face.
You didn’t see it, but you heard the other girls running and pulling Tommy off of you, yelling and pleading for him to calm down.
“I worked really hard for you!” He shouted, jerking his shoulders out from under the hands of the other performers. What was he talking about? You hadn’t discussed any of this, asked for any thing from him. “I waited for a high roller for you. Real classy guy. Just wanted a private show! That was it!” He spit, “No, every Tom, Dick, and Harry is welcome now to ask for your time.”
You just held your face, unsure if you had the right makeup to hide the bruise before stage call.
“Well?! Say you’re sorry.”
You considered not saying anything. No response. When you looked at him, you could see the half a dozen other girls staring back at you, just say it. We have to rehearse.
“I’m sorry.” Eyes cast to the floor.
“For what?”
It hurt when you rolled your eyes, “For being ungrateful?”
He shoulder checked a few girls on the way out. A couple came to you.
“He’s got some gambling debt, he’s just using us to get ahead.”
“I have some stuff to cover that up for tonight.”
“He usually cuts us in.”
Tears stung your eyes, you were angry and humiliated. You could work elsewhere, with a little luck. Take a job at a diner out of the area where no regulars would stir up trouble. Maybe leave until Tommy got his debts paid off or whatever was motivating this recent streak of cruelty. But you didn’t want to run away. No one applauded waitresses. Maybe if you made yourself as unattractive as possible, no one would request you. Dirty your teeth, talk about other men, speak crudely.
“What exactly was he talking about?” you asked no one in particular. The girls were quiet for a beat.
“Well ya know, private shows for clients who can afford it.” High pitched and nasal, Florence spoke as she searched her make up station.
“That’s it?” Incredulous.
“Sometimes. You know how it is… woman left alone in a room with a man who has too much money or ego or drink. Doesn’t always stop at a dance.” Minnie had much more experience than you, “It isn’t our jobs. It isn’t normal. But, well, ya heard about New York right? They’re trying to make burlesque outright illegal…”
“Gotta enjoy the art while it’s just misunderstood.” Florence wiped down your mirror before setting her supplies down for you. “Come on, let’s get you fixed up.”
By the time patrons began to stream in, you had blood staining the white of your left eye. Nothing you could do, but maybe at a distance it wouldn’t be noticeable. The bruise under your eye from his fist was easy enough to cover. The contusion from where your right cheek hit the wall was a little harder.
Luckily, the stage offered a buffer of space and the rest of the room was dark.
During your show, you tried to keep your eyes moving so the red sclera never stayed in one place too long. For the first time, the cheers did nothing for you. You felt your chin quiver, fighting back tears. You wanted to scream, to tell them to hate you and leave. Stop fucking clapping.
Ruth was naturally the first to come to you after your performance, “Want me to do the tour with you? Arm in arm around the hall.”
You took her up on the offer. It lightened the load, her taking charge of the conversation when people approached or bought you drinks. Luckily the bartender always poured the performers weak cocktails and watered down liquor to keep their heads on straight.
Ruth’s companionship afforded you precious time to plan, to consider how quickly you could find new work or at least a way out of this.
“What a treat. Two for one. Can I buy you both a drink?”
Ruth turned first to greet the customer, “Ooh yes sir! Gin and tonic, please and thank you. Autumn?” Your stage name drew your attention back to the world, turning finally.
“Alastor.” It fell from your mouth like a lead balloon.
He smiled down at you, his hand offering a little wave, “Hello. Surprise.”
Your face fell, a frown pulling down your chin. It took you too long to recover, batting your eyelashes and turning the corners of your lips up unnaturally.
“So you do have a beau!” Ruth slapped your arm, “I’m Skye, Skye Scraper. Pleasure to meet you, Alastor.” She extended her hand, Alastor planting a kiss on the back of it, concealing his smile at the name.
You tried to keep your eyes on the floor, head turned slightly away from him to obscure the neon sign of an eye shouting, ‘Weak!’
Unfortunately for you, Alastor wasn’t an oblivious man. Unless he was dancing or drunk. “May I have a moment alone with her?” Alastor asked Ruth. Ruth looked to you for your okay, and you just nodded. She gave a little nod of her own to Alastor and slinked away.
“Are you unhappy to see me, dear? Did I overstep by coming by unannounced?” You hadn’t heard him worried before, it pained you.
“No, no! I am… so happy to see you. I just had a long day.” You scanned the room for the darkest area to bring him. A booth would be best, you could keep him on one side of you. You gestured with a nod of your head.
“Ah, I kept you out too late.” Alastor didn’t move.
“Not at all, come on let’s sit down.” You reached back for his hand without looking at him, but when you pulled he still didn’t move. He remembered the way you pulled at the hand of that man in the alley the first night you met. Desperate to escape somewhere.
“Is there a reason you won’t look at me?”
Lie.
“Uh, no, I’m just embarrassed about this heavy stage makeup.”
Alastor paused, hand slipping from yours to adjust his sleeves. It was a nervous action, an attempt to self soothe, but you didn’t know that. “I should have asked before coming.”
“Alastor, it’s not…,” you kept your eyes down at your hands.
“Then look at me.”
Would he think you were incapable of protecting yourself? His pity would kill you. Perhaps he would decide a second rate burlesquer wasn’t worth making time for anymore.
You could intentionally wound him, say you don’t want to see him so he leaves. But that sword was double edged and you weren’t sure you’d survive that either. You weren’t making it out of this.
You finally looked at him. He leaned in, “What happened to your eye?” A slender finger gently tilting your chin upward.
Lie.
You thought too long for an answer. Why were you getting worse at lying? It used to be one of your best shields and swords but now you were so slow on the draw you were left defenseless. Vulnerable. His hand took yours, gently pulling you into the lobby and through the glass doors of the theatre.
Under the bright lights of the marquee and the street lamps, Alastor inspected your face. He reached into his pocket for his handkerchief, wetting it in his mouth before wiping the makeup off of your under eye.
“Alastor, people are staring.”
His eyes fell down, soft hands lifting your arm where a bruise was already formed. You hadn’t noticed that one.
“What happened?” He wasn't looking at you when he said it, instead cautiously wiping the makeup off your cheeks in search of more marks.
“The truth or wh-“
“Always. Never give me anything else.”
You sighed, and explained, “Tommy, the manager, he’s been shifting tactics for bringing in money because he owes some big bads a lot of debt. Private shows with performers that sometimes get hands on…,” his hands stopped moving but his eyes didn’t meet yours, “I never asked to be included in it. I wouldn’t do it. I was rude to a man Tommy introduced me to and I ran off Saturday. Yada Yada. He got me as soon as I got to work.”
Alastor didn’t reply, just turned on his heels and marched back into the theater. You chased after him, “I don’t need you to fight my battles!” You tried to get in front of him but he walked right past you.
“Not about what you need, dear, it's about what he deserves.”
Alastor asked the bartender for Tommy, who pointed to the short but stocky man talking to a group of guests. Alastor approached so quickly Tommy didn’t have time to greet him, instead just backing up until he fell ass first into a booth. Alastor boxed him in, one hand on the wall and one on the table, towering over Tommy as he sat.
“I hear you sell dancers by the night.”
You paced the lobby nervously. Would you be fired? What would Alastor say? Would Tommy hit him, too?
He re-emerged, “Come to my car, please.” He didn't stop walking as he said it.
You followed a few blocks down to his car, parked on the street. He opened the passenger door for you and closed it behind you. You wanted to ask if you were going somewhere, but thought better of it. A tight u-turn, he pulled the car into the side street where you’d first met each other.
Wordlessly he got out of the car, you opening your door before he could. Popping the trunk, he set the folded canvas inside a paper bag. Checking first, he placed it inside one of the tin trash cans.
You stood, waiting for an explanation.
Finally he stopped and made eye contact with you. “You have a date tomorrow, with me. Bring this to the apartment above the theater before Tommy and I arrive.” Opening your mouth to speak, he didn’t stop to let you add anything. “Preferably near the bed.” He closed the trunk, “Wear red, please.”
You searched his face for some kind of discernible emotion but found none. Those constricted pupils again, an animal staring back at you from behind a pair of glasses. There was no reason to ask him, it was obvious what was going to happen. Did you want to stop it?
Did you want to see it? Alastor at work?
“Okay. On all the points.” You looked back at the trashcan, “Canvas hidden near the bed. Wear red.”
“The extra clothes can go anywhere out of sight.” He leaned down, kissing your forehead, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Your voice cracked a little, “Wait, you’re leaving already?”
He nodded, “I can’t stay here.” Before getting into his car he turned and added, “Don’t cover the bruises tomorrow. He should see them.”
You nodded in return, “Are you doing this for me?” So quiet you almost hoped he didn’t hear it.
He paused, one leg already in the car and his back to you, “No. I’m doing it for everyone.”
You watched his car light up and leave the alley.
It’s not that you felt abandoned, you felt…. Stranded. You had to go back in there, alone, and put on the normal act but under abnormal conditions.
So it was happening. You hadn’t seen the first time. Just felt it. You didn’t see the second. You were going to actually see a man die. Not just a man, someone you knew. Someone you used to consider a friend of sorts. Before he got into whatever trouble was driving him to act like a flesh peddler. Could you do it? Could you watch a man be killed? Was that even what Alastor had planned?
Tommy found you the second you were back in the room, hand pressing too hard on the bruises he left on your arm. “You have a meeting tomorrow after your show. If you don’t show up,” he yanked you close, putrid breath of dead teeth you’d never been bothered by before this moment and bad booze assaulting your senses, “I will fucking kill you.”
You almost started laughing, bringing your hand to your mouth to hide your smile. “Okay Tommy.”
Fuck it. He was going to die anyway, might as well make it a date.
Ruth saddled up beside you as soon as Tommy was out of earshot, “Look at that smile. Quickie in the alley?”
Disgust, “Jesus, Skye, I was gone like, 5 minutes.” She shrugged. “Why does everyone think — is everyone fucking their daddies* in the side street?” She nodded. “Well, I’m not.”
“Prude.” She joshed before linking your arm in hers again, “We’ve got at least another hour of schmoozing. Tits up!”
Your smile came effortlessly that night, a thrum of excitement keeping you light on your feet. Not excitement for death, but for the very concept of being closer to Alastor. Would you see it happen, in front of you? Or would he have you leave? Either way, you were an active participant with a task list.
He trusted you, even if in a small way. Trust was so rarely given from the people who mattered. Men trusted you often; to be sweet when they tell you they were embarrassed about something, to lie when they ask if you orgasmed, to not steal their cash when they blacked out with their pants still on. Pulling it from strangers was one of your greatest pleasures. But it was easy. You were skilled.
Yet again, like so often now, Alastor was the exception. He didn’t toss himself at your feet. He stood tall in front of you and on his own terms offered you the things you wanted. You didn’t have to pretend to be demure, you didn’t have sit on his lap in silence and nod and laugh. Just yourself, as much as you could allow yourself to exist in the world. No tricks. If his trust was presented wrapped in a bloodied bow, well, you would thank him dearly and wear the ribbon round your neck like a trophy.
Many men spoke to you, but luckily your participation in conversation wasn’t something they really cared about. As they spoke, your eyes were looking past them and into the future.
However there was a sense of dread when you lied in bed that night. The excitement of getting closer to Alastor had melted into the fear there was no going back from this.
Something in your chest stung, a thorn growing from somewhere unknown. Three encounters (that he knew of) and already it seemed your thoughts were more Alastor than yourself. No person had ever made such an impression before. You didn’t like it, but it made you happy. Which is why you didn’t like it. Tying your happiness to another person was a reckless thing to do. You’d seen your mother and half sister both use a man’s attention as a replacement for being happy with themselves and it made them brittle and hollow.
Thinking of what would happen the following night, oddly, you were reminded of losing your virginity. You were a “late bloomer” and were terrified you’d never be you again after. Like something would be taken from you. You fell asleep to that thought, of what you’d lose.
Then you woke, uncharacteristically early, feeling none the bit rested. No dreams. No nightmares. A few seconds of darkness and suddenly it was morning. With the extra time you had you wandered into a department store before going to the theater.
When a sales woman approached you, asking what you were looking for, you were too tired lie.
“A red dress.” You didn’t have the makeup at home to cover your marks, and gave up being worried about it.
Unfortunately, it seemed it wasn’t so odd of a sight; a woman with a black eye.
“What’s the occasion? Apology dinner?” The woman fidgeted with the hangers while looking at you.
You grimaced, “No, a murder.”
She howled, “You are a hoot! Don’t we wish, huh? Let me pull you some options.”
You put the dress on the top of the paper bag, having hidden it under your make up table the previous night. Your fingers were trembling, applying your makeup needing deep breaths and concentration.
“Ruth, can you do my lips?” You turned and handed her the brush.
“The eye looks better.” She took your chin in her hand and painted your mouth a pretty shade of red.
“Thank you.” You offered her a smile but she didn't let go, “What?”
“You ever seen a cornered raccoon? Like one got in the house and your mom boxed it into a corner with a broom?”
A nod, yes, actually, you had.
“Who’s got the broom?” She asked. You knitted your brow, not understanding. “Who’s got you in a corner? Is it Tommy?”
You took your chin back, deep breaths. “No brooms. No corners. Just rattled still from last night.” Not a lie, surprisingly. “You thought of a raccoon? Really? Is it because of the eye?”
When you took your bow for the evening and turned to escape the stage lights for the darkness of backstage, you found Tommy leaning just outside the dressing room.
“Get changed, doors unlocked upstairs. Room 504.”
Grabbing the paper bag you ran through your mental checklist. Wear red, take off your make up, hide the canvas by the bed. An odd to-do list for murder.
The theater had two floors of modest apartments above it, the owners keeping two of the open for the theater’s use. One was for the owners should they ever visit New Orleans, and the other was multi use. Storage and a crash pad for performers or Tommy when he worked late.
The bag crinkled as you hugged it, looking over the small apartment. Boxes, decorations, a modest kitchen and a bed. The bathroom was quite large, a tub and shower head. Was this where the other performers went?
Why hadn’t anyone said anything sooner? Why didn’t anyone leave yet?
Taking a second, you got to work. You opened the canvas and slid it under the bed, the smallest bit of edge sticking out for easy retrieval. Dizzy with the quickly settling reality of what you were doing, you sat on the floor for a moment. Trying to calm your breathing, you closed your eyes.
The fear of the unknown was suffocating you. There was a possibility Alastor failed and ended up hurt. Or, that he changed his mind and Tommy left you two to just hold hands on the bed for a sex-appropriate amount of time.
You patted your thighs and stood up. No time now for a panic attack. Alastor had a change of clothes in the bag, neatly folded and tied in twine. They were set onto the shelf above the closet.
And finally, yourself. Your dress was on and you stopped to wipe the make up off your face in the bathroom mirror. Still bruised, still nasty. The dress was nice though, carrying some of the weight for your battered mug. Red cotton, sailor neck and little gold buttons down the front. Flashy, brighter than the dark number you usually wore.
Would he like it? Most men looked for how a dress accentuated your curves (or hid them) but you had a feeling Alastor didn’t care so much about that.
You took your seat at the edge of the bed, thin mattress sagging from your weight.
The clock ticked, until finally the door opened and you saw something you hadn’t seen before and knew you’d never see again. Tommy and Alastor.
“Here she is. Autumn, this is Mr. Cerf. He's asked I stay in the apartment, apparently word of your attitude already spread among the upperclass.” Tommy wagged his finger at you in a playful way that was entirely out of place.
“Look at her. Pouting. Not very excited, is she?” Alastor smiled at you, softly. You felt for a second that maybe you entirely misunderstood. He looked calm, normal. Even peaceful.
“It’s always nice when they fight a little. But she won’t cause you any trouble.” Tommy patted Alastor’s back, who immediately shirked away.
“Do you like it when women try to fight you off, Tommy?”
A dry laugh, “Ya know how it is. They gotta act like they don’t like it so people still respect ‘em.”
A hum. Alastor’s smile falling entirely. A shadow settled over his face. “I see. That does make things easier.” He slipped on his short black gloves. “I always tell her she looks lovely in red. She rarely listens to me, but I’m happy to see she did tonight. It’s a special occasion.”
Once, you thought. You didn’t listen once.
Tommy nervously chuckled, looking from Alastor then to you, “What?” Alastor grabbed him by the back of the neck, pushing him to the ground and onto his knees. Hand fisted in his hair, knife pressing across his throat.
Alastor dug his knee into the small of Tommy’s back, “Tommy, I think you owe the lady an apology.” You let your feet find the edge of the canvas and slid it out with a kick. It glided across the wood and stopped where his knees met the floor.
“I’m sorry! Fuck, I’m sorry.” Tommy was staring at the waxed fabric in front of him.
You felt your eyes sting with tears, a smile breaking out against your will. “For what?”
“I—,” his eyes searched the room for an answer, your words bringing a pulse of Deja Vu, “It’s about yesterday?” He seemed to relax a little, “Come on. I said sorry. ” Looking back to Alastor. “I didn’t know she had a guy.”
Alastor yanked his head back to look him squarely in his eyes, “Wrong answer.” He pushed him down onto his stomach, “Come on Tommy. I like when my victims fight a little, too.” Sensing the taller man towering over him with the knife, Tommy scrambled onto his back to look at Alastor. Tommy started shouting, “Hey!! Someone!” But there was no one to hear him. That was the beauty of the space he always brought his dates to; it was too loud to hear anyone scream.
Funny how that works both ways.
Alastor shrugged, “Well that didn’t last long.” As Tommy backed up, trying to get traction on the slippery canvas and failing, Alastor straddled him. Tommy’s hands came up, one pushing against Alastor’s face, the other against the arm holding the knife. Alastor put both hands onto the knife’s handle, staring down into Tommy’s eyes as he inched closer to the man’s neck. “You look scared, Tommy. Are you scared?”
The other man shouted, eyes trembling as he watched the knife come down.
Alastor pushed through, metal sinking into Tommy’s throat. No pause, he withdrew and sank it again and again. Tommy’s hands fell from Alastor’s face, flailing slightly at his neck before slumping down. He was frenzied, stabbing at his chest and upward with wide eyes. You recognized those constricted pupils. They made sense in this setting. Alastor was panting, taking a second to split the skin from ear to ear in the middle of his melee.
You brought your knees to your chest, watching the crime unfold. Was this anger for you or truly for everyone? No one ever got so angry for you before, if you could be so conceited as to say this was for you. Your mouth opened and you spoke without thinking, no filter. “You look like an angry God. A jazz demon of wrath.” You smiled, the morbidity not lost on you.
Alastor stopped, frozen as he stared at you. For a second, he had forgotten you were there. He was always alone during these hobbies of his. Until recently. You looked like an angel in red and gold. Had he dyed your heavenly robes crimson? Or had you been made that way?
He dropped the knife, peeling his gloves off and stepping over Tommy’s decimated torso before kicking off his shoes.
You scooted back onto the bed and opened your arms, welcoming a strange after-kill cuddle. Your reward.
Alastor took off his bowtie, then his shirt. It took you a second, not realizing what was happening until he began to unbuckle his belt. “Now?!”
He nodded, “Yeah.”
“What the fuc— okay,” your hands flew to unclasp your stockings and roll down your panties. You mumbled to yourself, “Jesus Christ.”
As he crawled over you, warm gloveless hands tracing along your legs, hips, waist, you looked at up him with your now dilated pupils, “It’s murder? You need murder?”
He laughed, embarrassing you a little, “No it isn’t that.” His face nuzzled into your neck, “You’d go to hell? For me?”
You froze, you hadn’t really seen it like that.
“You’d damn your eternal soul,” his hips pressed into you, an unfamiliar hardness there that made you gulp, “just to spend time with me?”
How were you so heated over an erection? A dime a dozen, men practically threw them at women who offered them the slightest smile. Yet feeling him so hard against you, something you had been practically praying for, made you weak. A trembling virgin all over again.
Don’t lie, he always told you to be honest so you decided to try it out even if it made you feel at risk of harm. Your hands slid up and into his hair, gripping gently, enough to elicit a groan from him, “Well I was worried heaven wouldn’t have jazz, so… yeah.” You had to always say something a little in jest, to hide from the vulnerability of honesty, “This seemed like a better option.” The truth was, if you had to state it plainly, you would dive head first into hell in exchange for his smile. To hear his laugh. To feel his breath over your mouth. You were quite sure hell was more your scene, anyway.
“I’ll be sure to fill your afterlife with jazz every day, dear.”
How could he make hell sound so sweet?
“It’s a deal.” Fingers playing with his hair, basking in the warmth of skin on skin.
He leaned up, eyes scanning your face as he always seemed to do in these intimate moments. The feeling spreading down his chest was one wholly foreign to him, one he was struggling to put into his own words. You hadn’t run away. You opened your arms for him even still, welcoming your own damnation in exchange for… affection? Attention? Him? The reason didn’t matter, not to Alastor, and not now to his growing need. You didn’t even push him for more than he wanted to give, not yet needled him for details, secrets, sex. Could you really just be there for Alastor? Take him for what he was and what he wasn’t?
His mouth was salivating at the thought you’d give him anything. Reality was, you already had. His finger caressed the purple welt on your cheek. You were given pain and he returned it ten fold to its owner. A demon of wrath. He felt his cock twitching, underwear tented around him.
You smiled up at him, wiping a little streak of blood from his jawline, “You look quite pretty in red yourself.”
His head came to rest on your collarbone with a shaky sigh.
Had you said something wrong?
“Please, you’re already pushing me to my limit.”
Making a show of it, you zipped your mouth and pretended to toss the key. You wanted to reach down and pull off his remaining bit of clothing, to rub yourself against his manhood. But, you weren’t sure if that was something he would appreciate. You didn’t want to ruin his experience, to make him regret offering you something he so clearly didn’t need to give.
He removed his underwear, watching you unbutton your dress and pulling your arms free. Your bra, garter, and stockings were still on. Somehow he found it more scandalous than if you were completely naked.
Your breath was shaking, uneven as the excitement took control of you. There was a not totally unfounded fear you'd black out from hyperventilating.
Alastor lined himself up with your heat and pressed in, making a hard to decipher face as his brow knit up and he bit his lip. You were already so wet, not a hand or mouth needed from him. He wondered if you shared more than an acceptance of justified homicide; your body so relaxed and welcoming to him.
With a few shallow thrusts, he was fully sunk into you. You may have let out a cry. An emptiness you hadn’t clocked was suddenly gone. Was this what Zeus meant when he said the two souled humans were too powerful and tore them apart to weaken them?
Was this sex, or love? The word made you nervous. But—- if he offered it to you in both palms, you’d suffocate yourself in his hands.
He began to move in earnest, thrusting in and out slowly. You had expected the frantic moves of a horny virgin. Instead he was moving with control, hips rolling into you like waves gentle and steady where the lake met land, not slamming like many men before him.
Had it been any other dick, you’d whine and begin moving yourself against it for that needed speed. This was Alastor. Dripping pleasure into your open mouth like a drought-breaking summer shower.
You didn’t recognize your own sounds, already panting and moaning as a warmth spread from the place where his cock was sliding around inside you.
Alastor tried to keep calm. Even when his body was sensitive, he wasn’t used to the mental work needed to fight off his orgasm. Usually he had the opposite issue, struggling to stay focused enough to finish. Mind wandering to more productive chores.
But you were so wet, so accepting in body and mind. He watched your eyes close, one hand gently clawing at the blankets, the other reaching down to touch his lower stomach every time he thrust back in. For the first time in a very long time you really truly wanted to remember who was at the other end of the dick you were enjoying.
Languid moves. Swollen cockhead hitting the bottom of your walls, the top, the end, pushing still a little further.
“I’m sorry,” Alastor leaned down over you, kissing at your jawline, “For making you wait so long for so little.”
His rhythm picked up then, burying himself deeper into your sopping cunt and dragging out enough to pull back that quiver of his release.
You shook your head, lips tingling. “Nothing little here.”
He attempted a laugh, losing his breath. He wanted to last longer, to make the experience worth your while but he could feel you dripping down his balls and it weakened him with alarming efficiency. Finally the frenzied speed you witnessed earlier was turned to you, you brought your legs up, holding at his sides. “Darling I need to-,” he moaned into your ear.
“Please stay.” You clung to his neck, nails grazing at his shoulders.
Alastor’s voice was soft and sweet, a small moan and a gentle grunt. His legs spread more, trying to get every centimeter of himself into you. Hips now grinding in a small circle, but not losing any of the comfort of your warmth. You felt him still pumping that welcomed heat into you, and you tightened around him, drawing out your own moan. He hissed, “Sensitive.” Your legs were shaking like leaves in a storm, no orgasm but the pleasure nonetheless intoxicating.
The front of your brain felt like static, perhaps from the lack of oxygen as you had uncharacteristically lost your breath under Alastor.
Like losing your virginity, after the fear faded and you were able to find a moment for introspection, you found yourself larger than before. The edges of your canvas expanded out, new parts of yourself unfurling for you to explore. Nothing had been lost, only gained.
Alastor kissed at the dark circle under your eye, at the bruise of your cheek, he lifted your arm and kissed gently at the purple and blue spots there too. He had lied, and he wasn’t sure why, but maybe he’d find the will to admit it to you someday.
He had left yesterday to keep from strangling Tommy in the center of the theater, finding himself in a rage. He rarely felt anger. His killings always about retribution, about karma, about righting the scales. He needed to leave to keep from losing his composure.
He lied to you in the alley, unable to look you in the eye when he did it for fear you’d see it. You always seemed to see him with a clarity others didn’t despite such a short time together. He struggled to hide from you and it was as exciting as it was frightening. A testament to your similarities.
He hadn’t done it for everyone. No. His personal moral code fell to pieces when he saw your bloodied eye and bruised skin. He would have killed Tommy even if he had been a good man, even if you’d been the instigator. None of his murderous rules mattered. And it scared him.
(Next Part Next Week, orz)
*slang for boyfriend, often a rich one
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🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions
#alastor#hazbin hotel#alastor x reader smut#hazbin hotel smut#alastor x reader#hazbin alastor#alastor smut#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel fanfiction#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor x you#hazbin#the radio demon#human!alastor#human alastor
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Thinking of a modern AU when the kids get to be kids after it's all over and they go to the movies, they play games, hang out, all that. And of course, Steve drives them everywhere. He vouches for them in front of their parents, watches them like a hawk, tries to tell them about the adult stuff he's learned so far and chases Robin and Nancy to give them info on uni application and the things he feels he's too dumb for. Still, when Robin and Nancy are away and one of his kids needs something, he'll grab that legal document and either stare at it long enough to get a migraine or begins hounding the smart people who stayed in Hawkins (Mr. Clarke is Steve's go-to person and Mr. Clarke won't say it, but he's so proud of Harrington's progress).
So, Steve's life is basically nonstop work and babysitting (with lots of complaints and grumbling from the teens), they ask him to drive them somewhere and he'll bitch about it, sure, but he will get up after 4 hours of sleep and do it anyways. Dustin often reprimands Steve for not taking care of his health, but he doesn't see why.
When Encanto comes out, El really, really wants to see it, and how can Steve say no to her? He drives the whole gang to the movie theatre (some of them stacked on top of each other, some in the trunk on a pile of blankets) and decides to join them. He doesn't really like animated stuff, but Robin loves these movies and he wants yet another reason to call her and talk through the night.
He didn't expect to enjoy the movie so much, but it's colorful and catchy. The songs are nice and the characters are relatable. He makes a lot of mental notes to discuss with Robin. He thinks she will love Mirabel.
And then "Surface Pressure" starts playing and Steve wonders why he suddenly feels like crying. "I'm pretty sure I'm worthless if I can't be of service" hits especially hard. He's just sitting there and feeling incredibly stupid for tearing up at flying glitter-covered donkeys.
When they leave the movie theater, everyone is pretty excited and discussing which characters and songs they liked the most (even if some feel like rolling their eyes at a kids' movie, El's excitement stops them from doing that). They all start discussing to who they relate the most, El feels with Mirabel for being left out and different, even if she actually is the only one who has a gift, Will dares to utter that he really sympathizes with Dolores, Dustin loves Bruno for trying to fix the cracks in Casita.
And then they turn to Steve and someone makes a jab at him, saying he resembles Mariano the most. Steve is ready to shrug it off, there's some truth in that with what happened to his relationship with Nancy, but El just shakes her head and says: "No. Steve is our Luisa."
Everyone goes silent. There's a lot of hmmming and "well, he did get up to drive us when he had a night shift..." and "we could have just biked...". Steve tries to make them feel better about it, joking that he really has nothing better to do, but the drive home is full of whispering, and the party actually diligently thank him when they leave his car.
The next day is Sunday and Steve is ready for his usual routine, making himself busy until someone needs something. But there's a knock on the door to his small apartment and when he opens it, he sees his group of kids, proudly presenting a tray of muffins and two cartons of orange juice.
Out of all of them, it's Mike who speaks up. "Nancy said you often forget to eat breakfast," he states in his usual annoyed tone. "She also said that you like chocolate muffins, so we are here to ensure you don't die from hunger. Now move, I'll get the glasses and plates."
Steve just watches in awe as they swarm his flat, Will smiling at him and producing a DVD of the latest Spider-man movie. "This one was a tip from Robin, she says you haven't seen it yet."
Max is standing in the kitchenette with her cane, watching the pile of meds Steve has to take after his injuries with disdain. "This has to take forever for you to find what you need. Don't argue, I remember how shitty it was for me. Let me help you build a chart and thank me later."
El and Lucas are rearranging Steve's couch and placing pillows in front of the TV so everyone can sit comfortably. El also ensures the blinds are closed so Steve's eyes don't have to fight against the light.
And if that all wasn't more care than Steve has known in years, Dustin grabs his elbow and sits him down, threatening him with violence if he even thinks about working on Sunday.
As the opening titles start, Steve is surrounded by six teenagers in his tiny and cheap flat, chewing on a subpar muffin with an orange juice that probably never saw the actual fruit, and he thinks that there's no greater happiness than this.
#steve harrington#steve harrington drabble#the party#stranger things#stranger things drabble#stranger things au#encanto#healing and understanding your roles through movies is awesome#steve harrington is and will be loved
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Boy Toy, Pt.2
Sugar Baby!TojixSugar Mama!f!Reader
Summary: Something's changed in your dynamic lately; Toji makes it clear the night you unknowingly push him towards desperate measures to ensure you keep your promise. AU without sorcerers and curses, etc, forgot if I mentioned that in the previous part.
wc: 4.3k
a/n: warnings and tags include smut, rough sex, creampie, breeding kink, dubcon, threats of forced impregnation/kidnapping, yandere!Toji, possessive behavior, toxic ass behavior, emotional manipulation, jealousy, sub/dom elements, sort of pet play(ngl I'm not sure?) reader is pretty twisted as well, lots inappropriate stuff, I'll add more later if I need to. Enjoy!
Nothing really changes the next few weeks; in the aftermath of your attempt to cut ties with Toji, you’ve found it fairly easy to return to the previous “arrangement” between the two of you. The only difference is that Toji is more...affectionate?
Granted, he’s never been shy: when the line between client and employer had been crossed, Toji became quickly accustomed to invading your personal space pretty much any time the mood struck him. Whether it was sweeping you up in his arms to pin you against whatever nearby surface was stable enough to rail you against or just giving your bottom a playful pinch, Toji would strike without warning or care for your busy schedule. For the most part, you had no complaints, as long as Toji was mindful to not leave marks that couldn’t be easily covered. As for non sexual contact, it was almost always you who initiated hugs, chaste kisses, hand holding, etc. Toji allowed it, welcomed it eventually, but it was rare for him to be the one to initiate unless the physical touches were leading to sex.
“You smell so good.”
“You need to shave.” You chuckle softly as Toji nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his stubble leaving a slightly red mark as it itches the skin. “I should smell nice; because of someone I had to wash up again.”
After you finally managed to pry Toji off you, you had hopped into the shower while he stayed lounging in the bed, feeling too lazy to do more than wipe himself off with the shirt he had practically ripped in two to take off earlier. You were sitting in front of your vanity, having planned out your outfit ahead of time and now you were trying to decide what to accessorize with while Toji offered such helpful suggestions as, “don’t wear panties” and “are you sure you don’t want to go again?”
“Whatcha getting all dolled up for?” Toji asks absently, pressing slow, sensual kisses down your shoulder. “Come back to bed. Let’s stay in tonight.”
“You say that like that isn’t what we do most nights.”
“You hate going out more than I do.”
“As true as that is,” You conceded lightly. “I still have obligations: the current CEO of Kamo invited me to dinner to discuss some proposals about shipping their products through us. You can eat without me, I’m planning on taking advantage of the free meal.”
“That’s my girl.”
One of your family’s company’s most influential associates cornered you after that morning’s meeting for a separate one on one dinner to go over the plans. You can grin and bear it to keep things genial, tedious as it all is. Choso Kamo is a little less rigid when he’s not around a group of people and you suppose he feels more relaxed speaking to someone he’s more familiar with.
“But ya know, I could just kill him for you.”
“Did you run out of your allowance already?” Your eyes drift from your face in the mirror to where Toji has returned to sit on the edge of the bed. “I told you, if you want more for betting, you’re on your own.”
“You can afford it.” Toji replies with a shrug, not making any move to slip his boxers back on. “I didn’t actually: what makes you assume I blew through the cash already?”
“Because, it sounds like you’re fishing for a job. Anyway, I don’t need you to kill anyone.” You dab a dot of cream over the faint dark circles under your eyes. “Not at the moment.”
“I heard this guy is into some shady side deals. Is he dangerous?”
“Allegedly. Anybody who does get their hands on incriminating evidence always seems to go radio silent.” You apply a touch of red to your lips. “He could be a problem if I offend him during our meeting, but he’s smart enough to know his place; as long as I don’t directly challenge what authority he believes he has over me, our negotiation will be smooth sailing. He’s not the type to try anything.”
“No worries, he’s not gonna try shit with me there.”
You raise an eyebrow at Toji’s smirking face. “Absolutely not.”
“I’m your bodyguard: shouldn’t I go along and, ya know, guard your body?” Toji’s eyes travel down your shoulders and back to your ass; you’re perched on the cushioned stool in front of your vanity. He loves watching you get ready, at least, he usually does. “I wouldn’t wear that clingy dress to a business dinner.”
“Which dress would you wear?”
��Cute.” Toji snorts. “When are we leaving?”
“I’m leaving in an hour and a half. Do I really need to explain why your presence would be detrimental to this occasion?” You absentmindedly fix your hair, mentally debating on wearing it up or down. Luckily the marks Toji had so savagely left had mostly faded; nothing that a little makeup and a strategically placed necklace wouldn’t cover. “We plan to discuss business, and that’s all.”
“I’d be going as your chaperone; he’ll probably have a couple men of his own posted outside the restaurant.”
“We’re meeting at his place.”
“His place.” Toji repeats flatly, easy going smirk falls. His eyes are boring holes into your head and you don’t need to glance in the mirror to know.
“It’s not the first time he’s had me over for a meal; he’s never made any inappropriate advances or threatened me.”
You sound bored as you explain all this to Toji, but it isn’t doing anything to pacify him. Why are you adamant about not having him come with you? He doesn’t need to be at the dinner table, he could stay outside the dining hall or sit in the car. It wouldn’t be the first time, even if it’s been a long while since you’ve had Toji play the role of hired muscle.
“How long have you known him?”
You pause to think. “Technically since we’ve been children, but we’ve never been particularly close. Our families' companies have always worked in tandem together and now we end up working together every now and then. He’s my age, give or take a year.”
“Good looking?”
“Yes, I’d say so.” You turn around slightly. “Don’t tell me you’re planning to leave me for my colleague?”
Toji doesn’t find much humor in your attempt to get him to crack a smile.
“What if he does make a move? If you turn him down, isn’t that bad for business?”
“I highly doubt it; that’s really not Choso’s style.”
“Sure sounds like you know him well.”
“My point is, there’s nothing to get worked up about. I’m going to a business dinner, not a battlefield.”
Toji is vaguely familiar with who Choso Kamo is and his family’s reputation, but their questionable business dealings isn’t what’s making his hackles raise.
When he escorts you to social events, Toji can see what he suspects you don’t pay attention to: men and women alike seem to hold their breath when you speak to them directly. Their eyes linger, they don’t seem to even be cognizant of their own behavior. Men in particular will cast scornful looks Toji’s way, the bravest make snide comments under their breath only to wither under his own cold gaze.
It’s entirely possible that part of your allure is due to being so scarce in public: you only grace a function with your presence if it’s absolutely necessary or if it would be considered an affront to refuse the invitation. You’re not exactly a people person and you’re not actually as good at reading people as Toji: you prefer everything cut and dry; you’ve managed to get along by charisma more than anything else. Toji has noted that you’re a person people want to be liked by. They want your approval. Choso Kamo isn’t an exception. Toji recalls on two separate occasions the imposing man peeled himself away from his solitary position at his table to greet you and you alone. He’s the only one who holds Toji’s stare and returns it with a look of utter contempt.
Blind as you might be to it, Toji’s perceptive eyes can see how the man practically bounds over to you, eager gaze trained on your polite, but kind smile, the way his paw-like hand grips yours ever so carefully when you ask Choso about his brothers and make small talk. Choso wants your approval and Toji would bet a cool one million it’s not all he wants from you.
“Hey big guy, why don’t you order in something special for yourself for dinner?” You sit down on the edge of the bed next to him, lean your head against his shoulder and run one of your hands up and down his forearm. “What I want you to do is stay here, all warm and cozy in bed, while I handle all this boring work stuff. There’s absolutely no reason you need to concern yourself with Choso Kamo or anybody I might need to have these silly, boring dinner meetings with. Do you understand?”
“How often do you expect to be called out this late for ‘business dinners’?” Toji whips his head around, a deep frown marred his handsome features. “Don’t condescend to me; I’m not a fucking idiot.” he pulls his arm away from your comforting touch. “Shit, why don’t you just go marry the guy? He’s obviously the better fit: rich, got his own business, bet your family will fucking love him.”
“Oh for goodness sakes, I am not listening to this-”
“Sit down.” Toji easily pushes you by your shoulders so you plop right back down onto the mattress. “Don’t walk away from me. I already told you, if you think you can go behind my back and mess around with other men, you’re dead wrong. You get that lumbering jackass on the phone and cancel tonight because I’m telling you you’re not going.”
You stare up at him strangely. “You’re serious.”
“As a heart attack.”
“No, I mean,” A half smile of bewilderment comes to your lips. “I thought you were teasing, but…are you actually jealous?”
“No.”
You give Toji an unimpressed look. “Then why are you throwing a tantrum?”
“I’m not throwing a tantrum!” Toji barks, red faced and fists clenched; he’s itching to hit the pillows or the wall. He can’t remember the last time he had gotten this angry. “I’m just pissed.”
“Maybe, but I think you’re also worried.” You reply coolly. “I never even considered Choso before…but you know, he is my type. And he’s very agreeable when he’s not moody, reliable…I’m sure he would be a lot easier to train than another rabid dog I know.”
“I know what game you’re trying to play, little girl.” Toji leans down at the waist, arms on either side of you on the bed, as if to emphasize how much bigger and stronger he is. “You’re really pushing your luck.”
“Says the man with the gambling addiction.” You glance down between Toji’s legs. “Is that your way of trying to distract me?”
Toji follows your eyes; he hadn’t even noticed. He’s hard as a rock.
“I wonder what did it for you: was it pushing me down? Barking orders at me?” You reach up to poke Toji’s scrunched up nose. “Or did that talk about training do something to you?”
Toji doesn’t have to look down; he felt his cock twitch. You kiss his nose and put your hands on either side of his face.
“I really don’t intend on adopting another puppy anytime soon. Please Toji, be reasonable; I’ll only be gone for a few hours, you’ll barely miss me.”
Toji doesn’t say anything, but continues to scowl. He can hardly bring himself to think about it, but you’re wrong; he misses you every time you have to leave the house. Sure, Toji can spend his time however he likes with the allowance you give him and a house stocked with food and entertainment, but it doesn’t take long for him to get bored and sluggish. When you have to leave the house and don’t need him to escort you, Toji finds the things he used to get so much enjoyment out of have lost some of their charm. More and more lately Toji finds himself curling up either in your bed where he’s surrounded by your scent or napping on the nearest couch to the door. He hates how the click of the front door lock sends a wave of relief crashing over him, how a little voice echoes in his head “she’s home, finally” but Toji can ignore it while he’s busy stealing your breath away with kisses and clawing at your business casual clothes.
Besides, what if while he’s away at the track or the tables, you come back early? You might see he’s not there and decide to go back out or take on some other task thinking Toji’s content being left to his own devices. Maybe on one of those days you’ll stop at a cafe or a bar and you meet someone?
“You’re the smartest dumb person I ever met.” Toji chuckles softly in spite of how irritated he still feels. “Everywhere I go with you, there’s all these people and they’re all better suited and they all want you. It’s constant. You know how exhausting it is, knowing there’s all these assholes out there waiting to snatch you up the minute they see an opening?”
“Now you’re exaggerating.”
“And you’re wrong. I will…that much.” Toji tells you firmly. “Miss you. I don’t like you going out. Even if I get to go with you, I hate it ‘cause I gotta see how they all look at you. I didn’t used to; fuck, you made me proud. You make me proud,” he corrects himself quietly. “I feel like I’m losing my mind.”
You look conflicted and Toji is hopeful; he’d like to avoid using force on you, even if he does get a kick out using his strength on you and handling you like a ragdoll. But this is different.
“Baby, why don’t you reschedule? Say you’re not feeling good and can’t make it tonight, any excuse.” Toji smiles roguishly as he slowly presses you down onto the bed, straddling your hips so you can feel the full weight of him and how hard he is. “You look too good dressed up like this…makes me wanna lock you up and keep you all to myself.”
“I suppose…I could speak with him over coffee. Something more casual.” You move up the bed and sigh as a spark comes back to Toji’s cold eyes. “You really are a scary guy, Toji.”
“I just don’t want to share you.” Toji rocks his hips, dragging the tip of his cock over the soft material of your dress; drops of precum stain the fabric. “So, so pretty.”
“Toji, I just got this!”
“Buy another.” Toji grinds against your thigh and gropes one of your tits roughly. “I’m gonna rip this one off anyway.”
You gasp as Toji makes good on his promise, his hands gripping the front of your dress and pulling it apart down the middle. The seams pop and the fabric tears right down the middle, revealing the matching lingerie set you had been wearing underneath; Toji curses under his breath.
“That’s what you were wearin’ underneath?” he asks incredulously. “Was this meant for him?”
“Of course not. I was going to surprise you when I got home.” You scolded him tersely. “Honestly, you have no tact.”
“Guess you need to train me better.”
Toji kisses you hard, not giving you much time to react as he forces his tongue into your mouth and starts grinding himself into your still covered pussy. You don’t fight it when Toji takes your wrists in one hand and holds them over your head; he’s not letting you go anytime soon. You’re too busy rubbing yourself back on him, loving the feel of his cock desperately trying to fuck you, like he can’t even wait for you to take off the panties.
“From now on you have to always tell me where you’re going and who’s gonna be there.” Toji’s demanding tone is a bit undermined by the way he’s groaning at the sight of your nipples poking through the lacey bra. “No late night meetings. And I don’t want you alone with him.”
“Choso wouldn’t do anything.”
“Bullshit. He’s probably a bigger freak than I am.” Toji pinches and rolls your nipple in his free hand. “I should fuck you while you call him.”
“Toji,” You say warily. “I thought we talked about this: you know I love you. I don’t want to be with anyone else. Please, try to not let your temper get the best of you: I have a job to do and if you act up too much-”
“What?” Toji asks mockingly; he’s already pulling aside your soaked panties and rubbing his tip along your folds. “Come on, I’m dyin’ to know. Am I being a bad dog?”
You’re about to retort, but then Toji bends down, eyes locked on yours as he runs his tongue up your cheek with a slow, wet lick. You stare at him slightly taken aback but that turns into shock when Toji slams his cock into you all at once.
“Fuck!” Toji hisses. “So fucking tight…come on, tell me baby, tell me how you’ll punish me!”
But the second you open your mouth, Toji is thrusting; his hold around your wrists is painfully tight and he’s able to keep your thighs spread by pinning one down with his other hand. You cry out every time he slams into you, making the whole bed shake and the headboard slam against the wall.
“Think he can fuck you this good? Huh? You think he could make this pussy cream like I can?” Toji huffs and puffs, not slowing down even as he lowers his head to suck and rolls his tongue around your nipples, one at a time, making them shiny and wet with spit. “Got me trained to only want to fuck this pussy now anyway.”
“Too much!” You whine as Toji lets your hands go only to hook your knees under each of his elbows. “Toji, so deep, it’s too deep!”
“But babyyyyy, I have to.” Toji groans almost as if he’s exasperated with your protests. “I gotta breed you.”
“Wha-what are you…?”
“Uh huh. Nice and deep, gonna make sure all my cum takes.” Toji kisses your forehead with a twisted grin. “I’m going to fill you up and make you a mommy now.”
“What?!” This is the most panicked he’s ever seen you. “I don’t want kids! I’m on birth control and-”
“They can only prevent so much. I’ll keep you tied up for a while,” Toji traces his fingers along your trembling lips. “I’ll keep cumming inside you, all night, every day, over and over. I’ll even destroy the pills if I have to.”
“No!”
“But I thought you loved me? It’s the only way I can think of keeping you…I mean, unless you were willing to do something else to make things a little more official?” Toji slows down his thrusts and looks down at you with a shit eating grin. “Ya know, something that shows other people you’re taken.”
“Something…?” You can barely breathe from exertion and confusion. “Official? Wait, are you saying you want us to get married?”
“Sounds fair enough, yeah? You already promised you would take care of me from now on.” Toji sighs and brushes hair out of your face. “Think of it this way, I get to put a ring around your finger ‘cause after all, you already put a collar around my neck.”
“You know, some people propose with a ring prepared and flowers, not threats of forcible impregnation.” Your voice is hardly more than a whisper. “Toji, I love you, you big idiot. If you wanted to, why not just ask me to marry you?”
“‘Kay, then…will you marry me?”
“I can get the papers ready tomorrow.” You ever so carefully put your hands on his shoulders lightly before moving in to hold him. “If that’s what it takes to put your mind at ease, consider me your wife. I’ve always considered you mine; honestly, do I have to collar and tag you to get it through your head? I have no plans to let you go, not unless you decide you want to leave.”
Toji chews on his lip as you hug him and give his neck butterfly kisses; suddenly he’s feeling anxious and tongue tied. Toji thought you might put up more of a fight: he knows what he is. He knows the disgusted looks thrown his way are warranted and he made peace with that years ago. If anything, it would be poetic justice for you to leave him high and dry, abandoning him without so much as a second thought.
You have to stop this. You think you’re taming a stray and making him a house pet, but Toji knows exactly what he is. If you keep indulging him this way it won’t settle his mind; every day is already a battle to not do exactly as he said he was going to do, keep you restrained and locked away from the world. Fuck the money, fuck your work, fuck everything you want and everything Toji believed he wanted. To hell with it all. What’s one more selfish, cruel act?
“Call him now.” Toji says suddenly, voice almost inaudible. “Call him and say you can’t make it because you forgot you had plans with your fiance.”
“Okay.” You nod. “But, um, I need to get my phone.”
“Actually, after we’re done.” Toji repositions your legs so they’re wrapped around his waist and his front is pressed flush against yours. “I still want to cum inside.”
“Okay, just be good.” You pet his hair, pushing his bangs off his face. “Can you be good for me, Toji? You were making me feel really good before; I want to cum with you.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I can do it.”
Toji can’t keep his eyes off your face; he’s panting, a drop of drool slides past the corner of his mouth, running down his scarred lip as you moan underneath him. He’s touching you with less force, but now he’s focused on rubbing your breasts and clit in tandem while you squirm on his cock. You’re giving him a great show; he wishes he had his phone out to record you, a little something to keep him company during those long hours you’re gone.
“Gonna fuck my pretty wife. Gonna make her pussy a mess…” Toji inhales as you clench impossibly tight around him. “You like that? You like getting your pussy ruined by me?”
“Yes, yes, I want it!” You rock your hips, squealing as Toji latches his mouth onto your nipple and rubs your clit faster. “So good, feels so good getting fucked by my…my husband…ah, Toji!!!”
Toji looks up at you with wide eyes; you’re too lost in your orgasm to notice. With high pitched cries, your whole body shakes from the being touched in your most sensitive places at once. He can feel your slick run down his twitching cock; after a few seconds, you’ve calmed down enough to breathe properly and look down at him with a tired, loving smile.
“Cum in me…it’s okay, I want it.”
Toji’s pupils are blown wide as he starts thrusting again, considerably slower, but with just as much force as before. He slows down the closer he gets to cumming, only to pick up the pace and hike your legs higher over his hips, then his shoulders. You can’t even scream now; all you can do is dig your nails into the sheets and let out the sweetest most adorable little kitten like mewls Toji has ever heard. He knows you’re tired and sore and need to rest soon, but part of him just doesn’t want to stop.
“Baby, stay with me. Almost there, gonna cum so fucking hard.”
Toji hisses as your hands grab his biceps, gets even harder at the way your nails dig into his skin; he’s slick with sweat and from the combination of your pussy dripping in his lap and what he’s pretty sure is his own precum steadily leaking with every slam of his hips.
“Almost there, I need ya to, shit, just call me that again, come on baby, c’mon-”
“My…my husband.” You say with a shaky breath. “Want my husband to cum in me, please!”
“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!” Toji shudders at the wet slapping with every time he thrusts, your desperate pleas tempting him to keep ravaging you until you’re passed out; he’s babbling now, voice hoarse and so loud it’s a wonder he can speak at all. “Yes, take it, just like that, take it all, gonna cum, take it all baby, fuck!”
“Good…good boy…”
With a long, low groan, Toji doubles over and has to struggle to not drop his entire body weight on you; he wants to see your pussy get filled first.
It’s dripping. Past his aching cock, past your puffy pussy lips, Toji’s cum drips onto his balls, down to the sheets in a little puddle. He came so much, he wouldn’t be surprised if you could taste it or if he ended up breeding you by accident anyway. All the better for him.
“Mine.” Toji rasps, arms pulling you in close, even as you weakly protest at his sweat drenched body and the mess; he pays no mind, in fact, he looks almost delirious as he grins at you. “Hey…since I was a good boy, do I get a treat?”
#jjk toji#toji fushiguro#toji x you#toji x reader#toji smut#toji fushigro x reader#obsessed yandere#fem reader#reader insert#x reader#clingy yandere#tw yandere#soft yandere#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#pet pl@y#sugar baby!toji#sugar mommy#breeding k1nk
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https://www.tumblr.com/carmenberzattosgf/747501125759107072/shall-we-discuss-that-carmy-seeing-you-interact
okay but like. he 100% sneaks you away afterward and his breeding kink comes out in full view. like, he’s fucking you in a bathroom and just ugh i need your thoughts on this
MAE MY BELOVED HIIII ( this ended up being so filthy. Im writing this at 2am idk why this came out of me)
hehehe yes. Like when Sugar brings the baby into the bear for the first time to meet all the staff, and you get to see the baby and interact with them.
Carmy’s just watching you try to make them laugh and you’re such a natural with the kid. He tries, like he really tries not to get those thoughts in his head. However that all goes out the window, fast.
“Such a cute little baby,” you say, walking up to lean against the counter beside Carmy. You’re eyes on still on the kiddo, watching while Richie tries to do something stupid to get a giggle out of the baby. “I can’t wait to have one someday.” The words left your mouth naturally, not thinking too much about it.
“Fuck— sweetheart, you can’t just say stuff like that to me.”
“What? What did I say?” You look genuinely confused at Carmy’s reaction. Wordlessly, Carmen grabs your wrist and drags you into his office.
Before you can catch a breath, Carmy has you pinned up against the door and presses his lips against yours. The kiss is heated and messy as his tongue works its way past your lips. His hips grind into yours and that’s when you feel it.
“Feel what you did to me?” He groans against your mouth before trailing down to kiss your neck. “You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about you having my kid.”
“Carmy—“ you gasp as he nips at the skin of your collarbone.
“You gonna let me fill you up?”
“Yes! Please, please, Carmy.” He said wastes no time, quickly pulling your pants and underwear down so you can kick them off your feet. His skilled hands undo his belt and lower his jeans just enough to get his cock out. You gasp as Carmy effortlessly picks you up and presses you up against the wall before sinking into you.
“You’re going to have to be quiet for me.” You can’t help the whimper that leaves your throat as he guides your legs to wrap around him. The movement makes his cock hit that spot deep inside of you. “You can be a good girl and be quiet, yeah? I can’t wait until work is over to fill you up. I need you to be dripping for the rest of service.”
His pace is merciless. Carmy pounds into you like there’s no tomorrow. “I-I want that. W-want to be dripping with your cum.”
“Knew you would want this. Fuck—“ His thumb reaches over to your clit, making quick circles. “Want me to knock you up? Get you pregnant?”
“Shit Carm—“ Euphoria and pleasure flow through your veins. You’re so close you can barely speak.
“Need to hear your words, baby. Do you want me fuck you full? To put a baby in you? That what you want?” His voice is thin as he speaks. He can barely get the words out, too lost in his own pleasure.
“P-please, Carmy. I- I need it. Need you to cum in me. Please, please, please.”
“Good fucking girl. Going to look so pretty carrying my kid. Let go for me, baby. I’ll give you what you want just let go.”
His words are all it takes for you to reach your peak. Your teeth sink into his shirt covered shoulder as you try and muffle your whines of pleasure. Your legs shake around his waist as Carmy groans into your neck, spilling hot inside of you.
You have to work through the entire service with Carmy’s cum steadily dripping out of you. All you can do is hope that no one heard anything coming from Carmy’s office. They were all focusing on the baby, right?
Carmy also definitely comes up behind you mid service and lets you know that he’s going to have to fill you up when you both get home. He’s gotta make sure it sticks!
#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto x reader#the bear#the bear fanfiction#carmen berzatto smut#carmy berzatto smut#carmy berzatto#carmy bear
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kiss me more [k.yeosang]
₊˚.༄ || filth valentines m.list || hongjoong || seonghwa || yunho || yeosang || san || mingi || wooyoung || jongho || ₊˚.༄
₊˚.༄ And we cuddle, sure, I do love it But I need your lips on mine ₊˚.༄
remote working or work from home can be a curse and a blessing at the same time. like how you were able to set up your laptop on the bed while typing down documents needed by your boss or when you can just do take outs as your lunch, dinner or late night snacks.
they were such a blessing that you can also wear things you like (unless you are in a meeting then be in a blouse and underwear underneath) and be able to fill your throat by yeosang's dick.
one minute, you were looking at your laptop on your countertop as your boss discuss about the upcoming projects, back arch with your hands in the middle of your thighs as he has been ranting for the past hour; hurting your back as you sat still on the tall stool.
"such a dirty slut you are, sucking my dick while on a meeting with your boss?" bunch of spit slide down the corner of your lips as you devour him deeper until your nose touch his pelvis. you remained still, feeling your throat clogging as his tip hits the back of your throat before detaching with a loud gasp, lines of spit and pre-cum cover your entire mouth down to your chin; glossing your lips.
you giggle, running your tongue on your lips-- tasting him. yeosang's adams apple bob as his dick stiffened at your appearance, work blouse unbotton until your cleavage can be seen, mouth so messy yet it did not help how you look so innocent at how your back is arch, hands pressing them on the seat; legs spread.
"if you can look at yourself right now makes me want to buried this dick down that throat..." he mumbles, voice overcast with lust and dominance. your pussy pulsing on your uncomfortable panty, heart pounding of being throat-fuck by yeosang's big dick.
reaching over to leave the meeting then closing your laptop; yeosang watching your every move until he catches you moving your stuff at the other counter then laying down on the countertop.
your back resting on the marble top as you slowly unbutton your blouse while staring at yeosang, knees prop up; back arch before throwing your blouse to the side, "then go ahead and fuck yourself on my throat."
yeosang pulled you close having your head hanging by the countertop, his cock tapping on your lips before you opened them and let himself fuck your throat. gurgle, choking can be heard throughout the kitchen as yeosang had his cock wet touching every inch of your throat.
holding on the counter as yeosang buried his cock, "good girl baby ..." his cum shoots down your throat, groaning deeply as he watches your throat bobbed as you swallow them before he pulls out.
He pulls you up, eyes locking. Yeosang observes as they way your fingers brush on your cum stained lips. Glossy yet so alluring; without hesitation, he dives on your lips.
He might taste himself on you, but he cares more about your lips perfectly molds on his. Your hands found its way naturally on his hair, pulling him close to you, his warmth embracing yours in a comforting matter. His heart had never been over the moon and how dense he is to know of your feelings for him.
Yeosang pulls away, a string of saliva connecting your lips, his eyes trails on your lips to your eyes, "It's not my post nut but fuck, I love you ..."
You rolled your eyes at him, playfully. Combing the hairs on his nape, "Kiss me more then I'll believe you."
And he did, once again had his lips on yours.
#ateez#ateez imagines#ateez scenarios#ateez kang yeosang#kang yeosang#kang yesaong imagines#ateez yeosang#ateez smut#ateez hard hours#ateez hard thoughts#kang yeosang smut#kang yeosang x reader#kang yeosang hard hours#ateez fanfic#kang yeosang scenarios#yeosang x reader#ateez x reader#ateez atiny#ateez fanfiction#ateez imagine#ateez masterlist#ateez oneshot
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Greatest Love Story
Alastor x angel female reader
Summary: You being an angel and falling for the radio demon is troublesome, and falling for an angel is outlandish. But he tries to convince you to move into the hotel to get away from the angel stuff.
A/n: enjoy <3
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Damn him.
You were seriously falling for the radio demon.. Sure, he and the angels have fallen outs but with you? He seem to separate you from them. You were sweet, kind, and innocent, and he liked you for that. Most of all, he thought you were pretty. Never in his life have he seen someone so attractive. As for you.. Alastor makes you feel safe. For some reason, you don't know if it's because of the soothing static of radio whenever he talked to you. Or if it's the gentleman vibes he gives off. You were indeed falling for the Radio Demon himself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You were in your bedroom where the angels had stayed in heaven, when you heard a knock on your bedroom door, expecting it to be one of the angels you found yourself looking at the deer man himself. Shit. His smile that he always had was on his face as he looked down at you with his crimson eyes. You could've sworn your heart leap in your throat. The mainly red man very much stood out in the all white corridor. You two discussed the consequences both of you getting caught, did that stop the radio demon? Oh definitely not.
You weren't sure how long you were standing there with your eyes open wide for but his radio static voice made you snap out of it.
"May I come in my dear?" Without saying a word you grabbed his claw and drug him into your room, his smile got bigger. You closed and locked the door.. the man was already looking down at you when you turned on your heel to look at him.
"Why are you always in shock when I surprise you with my presence?" Alastor had said. Did he really need you to spell it out? You took a step closer towards the very tall man who much well hovered over you much, causing you to crank your head back to just look at him. You pointed a finger to his stomach..
"You're a demon and I'm a angel.. you're in a place full of angels al.." Your hand soon dropped to your side. Alastor who was clutching his radio staff walked passed you and walked around the all white room, stopping at a plant you had by the window sill and taking a leaf off it.
"Fear not my darling , I will make sure that my presence will remain hidden." He looked from the plant back over to you, then around the room.
"Your room is very... enclosed. I think you'd prefer a bigger room, my dear and i-"
"I'm not leaving Heaven al.." he walked over to you. "But my doe, we both know how you feel about this place. Why not leave it and run off with me back to the depression hole?" You only just stared, although he still had that stupid grin on his face. You saw his eyes soften.. he then placed a hand under your chin. That's all he had to do to change your mind.
"Fine... let's go." Alastor wasted no time. He poofted the two of you back to the hotel that was covered in all red.. it was gonna be a big adjustment, but you were ready for something. To start a new chapter. Whatever It took.
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Kid MC: *is now seven years old* Are we going to Majolish again, Papa?
Simeon: *chuckles* Yes. We need to buy you new clothes.
Kid MC: *pouts* But we bought some clothes the other day.
Simeon: Did we? Papa can't seem to remember.
Kid MC: *pouts even more*
Simeon: *laughs* *carries them up*
Simeon: Papa will buy us matching outfits. That sounds great to you?
Kid MC: Hm! But you need to cover when you're trying on clothes, Papa!
Simeon: Why?
Kid MC: Women are drooling when they see you.
Simeon: I— Where did you learn to speak that way?
Kid MC: Uncle Asmo!
Simeon: Hm-hm. Looks like I have to lecture your uncle.
Kid MC: It's true though! They're visibly drooling!
Simeon: *slightly embarrassed* MC... *chuckles*
Lucifer: Has anyone seen Simeon?
Mammon: He went shopping with the lil' nugget.
Lucifer: Ah, I see.
Lucifer: ...
Lucifer: When he arrives, just tell him to go to my study. There's something I would like to discuss with him.
Belphie: Is it about the Celestial Realm asking him to come back?
Mammon: No joke? They haven't stopped?
Lucifer: Unfortunately, they're being persistent.
Simeon: What is this important matter you want to discuss?
Lucifer: The obvious one.
Simeon: Really? *frowning a little* I had already given them my answer.
Lucifer: Raphael will be paying us a visit.
Simeon: ...
Simeon: Just great.
Lucifer: Do you want to stay in the Demon Lord's Castle for a while?
Simeon: Yes. I think that would be better.
Kid MC: *entering the study* Papa!
Simeon: *smiles* Yes?
Kid MC: *runs to him* I received a letter from Uncle Luke!
Simeon: *a bit shocked* Really?
Kid MC: Hm! But it's a secret message and I can't read it! *giving the letter to him*
Simeon: Oh. *chuckles* Let's see— *his face turned serious*
Lucifer: ...
Kid MC: *jumping in excitement* What did it say, Papa?!
Simeon: *forced a smile* W-Well... It says that he might visit us in the near future.
Kid MC: Like a vacation?!
Simeon: Y-Yes...
Kid MC: Yay! I'm writing a reply to Uncle Luke! *runs out of the study*
Simeon: ...
Lucifer: *gets the letter from him*
Lucifer: *glares at it* Please tell me they're not being serious about this.
Simeon: ...
Luke's message:
I overheard the conversation between Michael and Raphael.
They want to turn MC into an angel.
Isn't that going to be a painful process for them, Simeon?
Kid MC: Why are we staying in the Demon Lord's Castle, Papa?
Simeon: The brothers had destroyed some parts of the house.
Kid MC: But they've always been destroying stuff.
Simeon: *chuckles* Yes.
Kid MC: Can't they just fix the house?
Simeon: The renovation will take some time.
Kid MC: Uncle Tantan could fix it in seconds.
Simeon: *chuckles*
Barbatos: *welcomes them at the entrance*
Barbatos: Good day. The young master is waiting.
Kid MC: Uncle Barbatos! *goes to hug him*
Barbatos: *smiles* *lifting them up* Why, hello? You've grown so much.
Kid MC: We just saw each other last month, Uncle.
Barbatos: Oh. Did we?
Simeon: I apologize for the sudden notice.
Barbatos: No need to apologize. We were expecting you.
Diavolo: It seems they're targeting your child.
Simeon: *has asked Barbatos to play with MC while he's discussing things with Diavolo*
Simeon: So it seems.
Diavolo: ...
Diavolo: You must be so afraid for the safety of your child.
Simeon: ...
Simeon: I'm sure everyone in Celestial Realm thinks they're doing me a favor. Except with Luke, of course. *smiles bitterly*
Diavolo: ...
Diavolo: We will protect you and your child. Just as what we have promised to you when you first arrived here.
Simeon: Thank you, Diavolo. I really appreciate it.
Kid MC: Uncle Barbatos? Do all demons have superpowers?
Barbatos: I think so. Yes.
Kid MC: How can I know what's mine?
Barbatos: It depends. Why are you asking about superpowers anyway?
Kid MC: I want to make Papa smile!
Barbatos: Hm? Isn't Simeon always smiling?
Kid MC: Yes! But Papa doesn't smile like his real smile! Sometimes he's faking it!
Barbatos: ...
Barbatos: Well, adults get tired sometimes. And of course, your father doesn't want to show it in front of you.
Kid MC: Really?
Barbatos: Yes. Really.
Kid MC: Hmm... But if I get my superpowers, I want Papa to be really really happy!
Barbatos: *chuckles* I'm sure he is already since the day you were born.
#obey me#obey me kid mc#obey me simeon#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me belphie#obey me diavolo#obey me barbatos#obey me luke#the child of sorrow
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Confrontation Luffy x reader
This is part two. If you want to read part one -----> Here
As in part one, Je as a nickname, the craziness continues, enjoy.
Ever since your boyfriend admitted that you two slept together, you went out of the way from anyone. Usopp eyes followed you around whenever you passed him, as if to DARE you to get closer to Luffy.
"Puah! The food was amazing Sanji", Luffy beamed and patted his belly. "Thanks", the cook said with a sad voice. It took a turn on him as he heard the news this morning, that you his beloved Goddess actually slept with the Captain.
"Je! What are you doing, your plate is still full" "Ah, yes", you admitted, obviously. Taking his fork, he took some food of your plate and held it out with a innocent grin. "Here!"
The kitchen was dead silent. Only the drop of Sanji´s cigarette was heard, all holding their breath. Luffy feeding you. HE! WANTED! TO! FEED! YOU!
Usopp directly began to pray, sweat running down his face. "No Luffy, it´s ok", you admitted and a loud breath was released. "Eh? Don´t you like the food?" "AH! I failed you my Goddess", Sanji fell onto the ground curling himself up as he whimpered.
"No! No no no. I´m not really hungry. You can eat the rest, Lu" "Sure?" "Yes, sure", you admitted and within a blink of your eyes, the plate was clean.
Sun all vanished, the night sky took place. "Good Night", you said and waved to them. "Je! Wait I sleep-", Luffy was interrupted as Usopp grabbed the collar of his shirt. "No! You will come here, we have a lo to discuss", he looked mad at your boyfriend. "But-" "Goodnight, Luffy", you smiled and went into your room and Usopp dragged his best friend over to the boys cabin.
Inside, Usopp began to breathe out, the rest of the boys already there as "Luffy", he started calmly. "Yeah?", he was already sitting on the couch. "One question....HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?!", Usopp began to shout, walking back and forth, " DO YOU HVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU DID?! DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT COULD HAPPEN TO HER?! TO US?! HAVE YOU THOUGHT OF MY BLOOD PRESSURE?!", he screeched so much that his voice broke.
"WE´RE PIRATES. THIS IS THE NEW WORLD!! YOU CAN´T JUST MAKE A BABY ON BOARD!" "Relax. I didn´t put a baby in her" " And that should calm me down?! I CAN`T EVEN-"
"you´re just mad that Luffy had sex before you, long nose", said Zoro with a smirk. "No!", admitted Usopp. "Really? You´re mad because I did it with Je?", Luffy tilted his head. "NO! What I mean is that you-YOU- who never-NEVER! Took an interest in this stuff suddenly know how this all works!"
"Usopp, are you still a virgin?", asked Franky and a blush covered the snipers cheeks. "YOHOHOHOHOHO! Usopp-san" "So basically, you thought you would get laid before Luffy", Sanji blew on his cigarette. "That is NOT the point! It´s Luffy, he doesn´t-"
CRUNSH!
A loud voice went through the cabin and all looked at Luffy who was eating cookies. "Where did you get these from?!", shouted Sanji. "Je makes them for me. She always makes too much and gives me the leftovers. She said when I´m hungry at night I can eat them", he smiled. Usopp inched the bridge of his nose and exhaled. "Did you even pay attention to what I said?"
Luffy shallowed all of the cookies at once before turning to his best friend. "No, not really", he laughed and the next second Usopp flung at him, strangling him. "YOU STUPID RUBBER IDIOT! I´M GIVING HERE A LECTURE AND YOU EAT!!!" "ARRk-Z-Zoro", Luffy chocked out.
Jinbe simply laughed at everything that happened. "Leave Luffy-kun alone. He has finally become a man" "OVER MY DEAD BODY!" "Bone-chop!", said brook and hit Usopp head. "What was that for, Brook?" "Luffy turned blue if you didn´t noticed it", admitted Franky.
"Ok, following!", Usopp clapped his hands. "These who are still virgins, raise their hand", he said and rose his hand, the rest being down. "SANJI?!" "What? I know what I´m doing", he smirked.
Luffy laughed loudly as Usopp fell to his knees, praying. "Oh, God. Forgive my sin for being in this rotten crew!", he began to tear up, "please don´t kill me, I´m still innocent and love my life so please-"
The others ignored Usopp as "Yohohoho, Luffy-san, One question. Is her body as wonderful as it looks?" "OH! Yes, Luffy! We need this information!", Sanji became heart eyes and puffed air through his nose.
"Je? Her skin is soft and smooth, like a pillow! I enjoy hugging her when we do it" "Yohohohoho", blood dripped from their noses. "Luffy, how was even your first time?", asked Zoro. "It was super fun! We laughed and it sorta happened.
"FUN?! YOU IDIOT! She is a living Goddess, the light of this ship and you should worship her fully! Kiss her skin, whisper love confessions, show her how much you want her, make her whine, and leave her breathless", Sanji went on one knee, explaining passionately.
"Just show her who´s in charge", yawned Zoro. "Oi, Marimo! That works with cavemen but a goddess like her!" "And if I hear one more of this sweet as shit, I´m gonna puke in your bed, Hentai-brow"
Both were about to fight. "Why that? We both laughed and felt happy with each other. This is about the two of us so it should be happy for us! But I have to admit, her moaning my name gave me shivers", Luffy grinned.
"Super, Luffy! So manly!", laughed Franky. "Luffy, I will never, ever again see you with innocent eyes!", Usopp whined.
"Ah, you´ll get over it", admitted Jinbe. "How! I have images in my head I never wanted to have! I feel like I was being molested!"
"You overdo", all said and the door opened. "Je!", your boyfriend jumped up when he saw you enter. "shhh. Chopper fell asleep in his office." Luffy looked at the sleeping Chopper, grinning.
"I take him", Zoro came forth and took the reindeer from your arm. "And you guys go to bed soon. Sleep well", you smiled as Luffy took your hand. "Why are you up?" "I´m on watch", you admitted. "Ok! Bye guys", waved your boyfriend and tug you outside with him, closing the door.
"Huargh! No no no. Not again. The pics coming back", Usopp shivered and jumped around. "Stalker" "Hey! If we have a baby here in a few months, I told you so! Luffy does not care"
"Night" "Yo, you also" Yohohoho, night guys"
"LISTEN TO ME!"
#luffy#luffy x oc#luffy x reader#luffy x y/n#monkey d. luffy#one piece#straw hat luffy#anime and manga#straw hat pirates#straw hat crew#chaotic straw hats#roronoa zoro#god usopp#one piece usopp#vinsmoke sanji#black leg sanji#one piece sanji#tony tony chopper#franky one piece#soul king brook#first son of the sea jinbe#one piece jinbe
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Skin Deep
Moodboard created by @jakekiszkasleftnutsack, story edited by @garbagevanfleet
Credit to @kiszkasun for providing the wonderful edits of the guys for inspo 🖤
The amazing Tattooartist!Jake moodboard created @pennylanefics that sparked this idea weeks ago 🖤
Pairing: Josh Kiszka x f!reader x Jake Kiszka
Word count: 12.3k
A/N: @asparrowofthedawn planted this idea in my brain, and I couldn’t function until I wrote it out. She’s been such a gem giving input and support throughout the week. It wouldn’t have been brought into existence if it wasn’t for her ❤️
Also, this is a smut fic with the twins, so if that is not your thing- please keep on scrolling. It’s my first one, so I’m nervous about that. Feedback and thoughts are always welcome and my inbox is open!
**Disclaimer: As someone with multiple tattoos, I tried to make this as realistic as possible. That being said, it’s not going to 100% accurate of the tattoo experience. Please don’t come for me**
Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, sexually explicit material a MINORS DNI!! (Unprotected penetrative sex, oral m!receiving, oral f!recieving, fingering, biting, slapping, dirty talk, spit kink, sitophilia - food/drink play, praise kink, soft!dom, teeny bit of restraints if you squint, let me know if I missed something!)
Masterpost
You pull open the door to the shop, greeted instantly by the chime of the tiny bell that alerts the staff of your presence. Looking around, it appears to be like any standard tattoo parlor, with its walls covered completely with framed pictures of flash art and leather-covered bench seats lining the waiting area. It’s dead quiet aside from the music playing over the speakers from the back room, and there’s no one to be found.
Confused, you pull your phone out to check the time.
11:48. Lunch time.
You chew at your lip, waiting a few seconds before deciding to turn back to the exit, only to be interrupted by the sound of a man’s voice.
“Hello!”
It’s friendly and upbeat, making you spin around on your heels to find the source. With a name like, ‘The Edge of Darkness Tattoo’, your mind has conjured up some interesting characters, so you’re more than shocked when a young man walks out from behind a curtain - heavily tattooed as you’d expect - to find his place behind the counter.
His laughter is muffled into the paper napkin that he wipes across his mouth. “Sorry about that, I was just eating some of my noodles and wasn’t sure if I heard the door open.”
“Hi,” you respond, letting your nervousness shake through your voice as you take small steps forward. You’ve had a few negative experiences with tattoo artists in the past, so you’re not ready to give up the apprehension just yet. “And that’s okay. I didn’t realize what time it was. I can come back later-“
He cuts you off with a wave, and displays a warm, reassuring smile, “Don’t be ridiculous. What brings you in?”
“I-uh. I have a t-tattoo design.” You stumble over your words, but you clear your throat and start over. “I’d like to make a tattoo appointment.”
“Fantastic! I can certainly set that up for you.” He wiggles the mouse to the computer in front of him and starts tapping away at the keys. “Artist?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Did you have an artist in mind?” When he realizes you’re still a few feet away, he ushers you forward, “Come on up here! I promise I won't bite.”
You shuffle forward with nervous laughter escaping from the corners of your mouth, “I don’t know any. This is actually my first time here. My best friend was the one to recommend this place to me.”
“Perfect! I love having new clients. So, here’s what we can do. I can look at the design you brought in and then we can discuss the artist that would be the best match for what you’re looking for. Sounds good?”
A smile forms on your lips as you start falling into the rhythm of his energy. “That’s great. It’s on my phone though. Is that okay?”
“Of course! Honestly, you should see the crazy stuff that people bring in sometimes. I’m pretty sure someone doodled their idea on a Mcdonald's napkin for me once.”
Now that you’ve left your once-looming anxiety at the door, and shuffled a bit closer, you’re able to take in the details of his appearance. The sides of his hair have been buzzed, leaving his tousled curls to rest at the top of his head and down the back of his neck. His ears are exposed, showcasing the thin golden hoops in each lobe, as well as the industrial bar through the right. The sharp angle of his jawline leads your eye to the trimmed goatee on his chin and mustache framing his full lips. The vibrant floral tattoos on his neck peek out above the collar of his cream-colored crew neck with the sleeves pushed up to the elbows, allowing you to look at the artwork that filled every inch of space from his bare forearms down to his knuckles. Admittedly, you’re a bit surprised to see that his face is mostly clear from piercings other than the tiny metal hoop on the left side of his nose.
God, he’s cute. Like really cute.
You try to shove away your attraction for him by unlocking your phone and tapping on your photos icon to pull up the pictures of your design in question. Even though your shaking hands are causing you to fumble with your phone, he waits patiently for you..
“Here it is,” you mumble under your breath when you find the right picture, and you turn it around to show him.
“Wow! That’s a big piece!”
“Uh, yeah. Is that okay?”
“Fuck yeah!” He leans in closer to get a better view, blessing you with the musky scent of his cologne that’s layered with sweet notes of vanilla. You don’t even realize how close you’ve been leaning in to chase it until you smell the mint from his gum. He coos softly, coating the words with a slight raspiness, “Ooh…that’s sexy. I fucking love floral pieces like this. Where are you wanting it?”
“I was thinking about the upper thigh and hip area,” you explain, pointing to the area on your body in a general motion of your hand.
“That’s going to look fucking sick.” He reaches forward, cupping his hand around yours to get a better look at the image on your screen. You’re in denial with how flustered he’s making you, distracting yourself from the warmth of his hand on your fingers by looking up at his face. Your eyes are captured by the fond smile tugging on his lips as he zooms in and out of the picture with his index finger and thumb. “Man, as much as I would love to do this for you — and as much as I hate to say this — I think Jake might do a better job.”
You’re entranced in his aura, only mere inches away from his face, sucked into the gravitational-like pull he has. Somehow, you manage to ask in a quiet voice, “Jake? Does he do pieces like this?”
He straightens to a standing position, breaking the closeness between you. “Yeah! Well, he will fight me on it, but he tends to do more black and gray. Actually…hold on. Lemme pull out the books.” He leans down behind the counter and lifts two leather-bound books that are similar appearance to photo albums. He opens one that has “Josh” written in gold script across the front, and starts flipping through it. “See, I’m more of a lettering and bold line work guy myself. A little more color than Jake does.” He hums to himself and shrugs. “Flowers like the ones you want aren’t out of my comfort zone though.”
You are in awe of his talent as you watch him flip through each page, “I see that. It’s really beautiful work, and I’m guessing you’re Josh?”
He flashes an award-winning smile, revealing the tiny gap between his two front teeth and the dimple on his left cheek. “The one and only.”
It earns him a bashful smile and a soft giggle from your lips, creating an undeniable moment of tension between you. Your heart flutters wildly in your chest, causing your eyes to drop down to your hands while he grabs the second book to open and flip through. He’s pausing on each piece, giving you the time to study Jake’s portfolio of work. You wish you could say you were paying attention at first, but your eyes seem to act on their own, drifting up to Josh’s mouth instead. Deep in concentration and unaware of your shameless gawking, he plays with the ball of his tongue ring against his teeth and lips while flipping through each laminated page.
Your eyes never stay on the artwork for long before they flick back up to Josh, and as if the universe is playing a cruel joke, he catches you the last time. Embarrassed, you quickly avert your eyes to anything else in the room, but before you can, you catch a glimpse of the grin forming on his lips.
You’re positive a telltale blush shows on your face as a wave of heat rises from your chest, and your train of thought is completely derailed.
After sitting in a too-long moment of silence with the only sound filling the room is the pop! of his gum, he shuts the book, and clears his throat before asking, “So, what are you thinking?”
“Huh?”
An airy laugh flutters from his throat. “Which artist would you like to book with?
“Oh!” You consider your options, even if you're afraid to disappoint him by ultimately taking his initial advice. “I think I agree with you on picking Jake.”
“Solid choice. I promise I’m not offended.” He nods and shoots a playful wink. You stiffen and scramble to come up with an explanation, but he cuts you off before a word leaves your mouth, “Hey, I’m just playing with you. Relax, mama.”
The gentle touch to your arm and term of endearment makes your head spin.
“Okay. So, let’s look at his next availability. Which seems to be…hold on.” He clicks his tongue over his teeth as he scrolls on the mouse. His eyes light up and meet yours, “I think you lucked out! Looks like he has an opening next week, but it’s the last booking of the day. Is an evening appointment okay for you?
“Yeah, I think so. What time does the shop close?”
“We aim for eight depending on who’s working that day, but Jake likes to stay late and fit people in when we can.”
“Will you be here?” You blurt out the question before you can reel it back on your tongue. You’ve found a sense of comfort in his presence and taken the chance it might put your mind at ease to know the answer.
As if he can see the gears in your head turning, he adds, “I will. Don’t worry. Jake is one of the best artists here so trust me on this, but he’s also booked for the next six weeks, unfortunately. And besides, having the shop to yourself is always great, and you won’t have to stress about anyone else popping in.”
You’re beginning to understand why he’s working the front counter here; his beautiful smile and kind eyes can probably sell you anything. Hell, he could pitch an offer for the giant glass bowl filled with mints that are sitting on the counter and you’d take him up on it. You didn’t need much convincing because this tattoo has been something you’ve wanted for months and months. He just happened to whisk away any morsel of doubt that had been lingering over your head.
You hum in thought despite the fact that your mind is already made up. “That’s true…okay, let’s do it.”
He reaches out and gives your hand a tight squeeze. “Fuck yeah! Let’s get you set up.”
Josh spends the next ten minutes discussing the details of your design and quotes you on a price based on the time and space required for the piece. You fill out paperwork as he takes a deposit, reserving your appointment for the following week. He suggests emailing your ideas and images to Jake directly and hands you one of the business cards that has his information on it.
You flip the tiny rectangle-shaped cardstock in your fingers. “Could I have yours as well?”
“Sure!” He reaches over and plucks his own card from the stack and hands it to you. “If you have any questions, concerns or if something comes up and you need to reschedule, please don’t hesitate to call or text me. You can call the shop too, but good luck on getting someone to pick up.”
You giggle at the thought and start making your way toward the door. With your back pressed up against the glass, you wave with a farewell. “Thanks for everything, Josh. Guess I’ll see you next week, then.”
He gives a final smile and waves back as you push the door open. “See ya around.”
A week later you’re back in the shop thirty minutes before your scheduled appointment time. You frown when Josh isn’t standing behind the counter, but you wait for someone to greet you, checking out the selection of jewelry in the glass display case as well as the flash albums sitting on the counter. You hear the faint sound of music and footsteps coming from upstairs.
Maybe they didn’t hear me come in.
You walk towards the stairwell and call up to the second floor, “Hello?!”
A male voice echoes back, “I’ll be down in a second!”
After a few minutes, you hear the shuffling of feet coming down the creaky stairs. You see the worn black vans first before you’re greeted by the rest of the man wearing them. Once he comes into full view, he says in a friendly tone, “Hey there!”
He closes the distance between you and extends an open hand for a shake. He’s another young man like Josh, dressed in dark wash jeans that are cuffed at the ankles, and an almost entirely open chambray button-up, rolled up to the elbows to expose his tattooed arms and chest.
How many cute guys work here?
“Hey!” You offer a hand and ask, “So, you must be Jake?”
He accepts it, wrapping his other hand around yours, encapsulating it in his warmth, and flashes a smile that seems a little too familiar as he answers, “That’d be me. You’re my eight o’clock?”
You nod, making him release your hand and shift a little on his feet while he sweeps his fingers through his long chestnut brown hair. “So, uh, I’m just wrapping up some of the finishing touches on your design, but it should only be a couple more minutes.” He gestures to the stairs behind him. “You can follow me upstairs to wait on the couch… if that’s more comfortable for you?”
You suppose you are a little earlier, so the extra wait doesn’t bother you. “That sounds great!”
You follow him when he leads the way up the wooden staircase, stopping to admire all the artwork covering the narrow walls. To your surprise, the second floor opens up into a large open space. A subdued glow coming from desk lamps illuminate the room, casting everything in a brooding, gothic feel. The wood flooring brings out the richness of the emerald green painted walls, and in the center, there is a dark, studded leather sofa that matches the wall color. Framed artwork and oddities fill the space. Your eyes scan over a variety of things like flash, band posters, mounted bugs, taxidermy pieces, swords, a vast collection of records with a turntable, dried flowers, and everything in between. Looking around, there appears to be two main work areas set up in opposite corners, with the furniture breaking up the space in the middle.
Turning to you slightly, he gestures to the couch with an open hand. “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. It shouldn't be longer than a few more minutes.”
You sit down, dropping your purse by your feet to settle into a more relaxed position, anticipating that you might be here for a while. You pick up one of the tattoo magazines off the coffee table and start flipping through it to pass the time. Glancing over the pages, you see Jake sitting at a desk working away on an iPad. It’s deathly quiet except the music that’s set at a low volume playing over a Bluetooth speaker.
You try not to stare, but you can’t help watching a talented artist at work. His long hair has fallen from his shoulders, causing the wavy, slightly-knotted tendrils to frame his face as he looks down at his work. You’re mesmerized by his graceful beauty, noticing little details like how his full, bottom lip pouts out from him being so hyper-focused. His hand sweeping across the screen with the pen being held between his fingers is the only thing pulling your attention. At one point, he becomes annoyed with his hair being in the way, and combs it back in a loose bun, securing it with the hair elastic that was wrapped around his middle digit. The way he's bent over, gives you a view down his chest from his shirt being so open, but you’re too far to make out any of the tattoos covering it.
When it seems like he’s about ready to finish drawing, you try to busy yourself with anything else but him, so he doesn't catch you as Josh had done a week prior. You end up scrolling aimlessly through your phone, flipping through several apps until you hear a chair being pushed out across the floor. At first, you are startled by the scraping sound of metal against wood, but the reaction shifts to excitement when you look up to see Jake walking over to you.
By the expression on his face, you can tell something is bothering him. “Sorry about that. The last guy took longer than I expected and — uh, never mind, you don’t want to hear about that.” He shakes his head, shooing away the thought. “Honestly, I really just wanted to make it perfect for you.”
“I appreciate it! And it’s okay, I didn’t mind waiting.”
He sits on the couch next to you and hands the tablet over with the design displayed on the screen. “What do you think?”
The amount of raw talent he has blows you away, exceeding every expectation you could have, like he’s plucked the vision straight from your brain. You gasp in awe, zooming in and out of every detail. “It’s so beautiful!”
A prideful smile forms on his face and he settles a few more inches, getting close enough that you can feel the warmth of his body as his leg presses up against yours. The proximity allows you to smell the teakwood notes of his cologne and the cinnamon candy that he’s rolling around in his mouth as he talks. “You sure? If there is anything you want to change, I would be more than happy to do that.”
You swear you’re able to feel his breath fan against your neck. “I think it's perfect.”
He leans in more, pointing to the different details of the design with the pen, “See, I thought that this part would be a nice touch, right?” He pats your knee before giving it a gentle squeeze. “I think it makes it unique to you.”
The way he emphasizes the last word with that low gravelly tone to his voice sends a chill through your spine. You squeak out while handing the tablet over, “I love it.”
“Okay, great. I’ll go ahead and get the stencil ready then. We can go from there to see how it fits in the spot you want.” He stands to his feet with the tablet in hand, and disappears into a hallway out of your sight, leaving you alone on the couch.
Another door on the opposite side of the room opens and closes, and a trail of footsteps follows it, growing louder and louder as they approach. You hadn’t seen Josh yet, but you weren't aware that anyone else was here in the building. You twist around on the couch and see a recognizable face presented in front of you.
He’s dressed differently tonight, wearing a white t-shirt that showcases more tattoos than before, jeans, and a pair of scuffed white vans. The things that haven’t changed are his welcoming eyes glimmering in the light when they meet yours. He chimes across the room in an upbeat voice, “Hey, you!”
“Hey, Josh.” You keep your voice light and casual, hiding the embarrassment from how he’s already making you feel.
He stops in his tracks and turns towards you with a pained expression on his face. “Okay, now I feel bad that I don’t remember your name.”
You wave him off through your giggling, “I don’t think I gave it to you.”
He rolls his eyes, albeit playfully. “That doesn’t change the fact I’m the dumbass that didn’t ask.”
You give him your name and hear it called back to you in his voice. To avoid feeling flustered like you did the last time you spoke to him, you dare to change the subject. “Ya know, you and Jake look like you could be brothers.”
He huffs a boisterous laugh, throwing his head back with a hand placed over his chest. “It’s funny you say that. We’re actually twins.”
Your mind connects all the dots, comparing their similarities and differences the second the words hit your ears. You allow a grimace to spread across your features when you realize how awkward it was for you to say they were related just now. “Oh shit, how many times a day do you hear that?”
He shrugs as walks over to the couch you’re sitting on and props his elbows on the back of the furniture. Leaning forward, he teases you with that cheeky smile, “Don’t worry, you have plenty of time to come up with original material.“
You scoff and just as you’re about to face away from him, he reaches out and taps your shoulder. “Can I tell you something?”
“Shoot.” Your heart starts racing with the possibilities running wild in your mind.
The smile on his face shifts to a nervous one and his eyes drift up to the ceiling for a few seconds before they fall back to yours. “I’ll be honest, I half-expected you to cancel tonight.”
“You thought I would wuss out?”
His eyes widened from the implication, afraid that he offended you. “No! No. Nothing like that.” He pauses, searching through his mind to find the right choice of words, “It’s…you just didn’t seem all the way committed to getting it when we talked last week. Like I was pressuring you into it or something.”
You didn’t realize you were being that obvious about it.
Your eyes drop to your hands as you pick at the cuticle on your thumb. “I guess I am a little nervous.”
“Yeah? That’s pretty normal for a big piece like this.” He shifts back on the heels of his feet and brings a hand up to his neck, rubbing the muscles, “I still get nervous sometimes.”
“I heard it was in a painful spot too?”
“Yeah, it can be with any sensitive spot and anywhere you don't have a lot of padding over bone is going to be a bitch. But don’t worry, you’re in good hands. Jake is a gentle lover.” He suddenly makes a displeased face, giving away that the last part accidentally slipped out when he forgot that you were still a client.
You control the smile that’s threatening to show on your face as you unwrap the mint that you’ve taken from the jar downstairs, popping it into your mouth, “And what about you?”
His mouth falls open, but no words come out. Instead, he decides to watch the way you roll the candy around on your tongue.
“Okay, let’s go ahead and see how these look-“ Jake’s voice echoes from the hall, but he cuts himself off once he sees you and Josh staring at each other. It only takes a second for a knowing grin to spread across his lips. “Am I interrupting something?”
Josh clears his throat and pushes himself off the edge of the couch, fighting back the smirk that’s creeping up with each passing second. “No, just chatting.”
You notice that Jake’s changed from the button-up into a comfortable black t-shirt, showing you the extensive work that covers both of his arms. He turns to face you, offering you a warm smile and a gesture of his hand over to the mirror. “Shall we?”
You leave your stuff where you are while he gathers his supplies and follows you to the full-length mirror set up along the wall.
Standing before it, you remember the area you’ve chosen for your tattoo, and ask, “Should I take off the thong too?”
You thought it was a reasonable question, but you second guess yourself when he coughs loudly. A heat of embarrassment flushes in your chest when you watch both of Jake’s brows raise as he swallows harshly, “Uh, well, no... I-I don’t think you need to do that. Just lifting the dress will be fine.”
He gathers a disposable razor and a plastic squirt bottle that’s filled with a light green solution in his gloved hands and crouches before you. You pull up your dress in your hands for him, bunching the fabric up in your fists right under the band of your bra to reveal the black lace thong you’re wearing.
“May I?” He asks softly, and you nod in approval. You feel anxious, jittery even, like every inch of your body is buzzing with nervous excitement to the point you think you’re shaking uncontrollably.
A shiver rolls through you the second the squeezes the bottle of green liquid onto your skin. “That’s cold.”
“Sorry,” he chuckles, while he wipes away the soap solution that’s running down your legs with a paper towel. “Guess I should have warmed it up for you.”
You blush at the thought, watching him in the mirror while being completely transfixed by the simple action until his next question whips you back into the present.
“Is it okay if I move this strap?” You glance down to see his large, dark-chocolate brown eyes looking up at you.
“S-sure,” you mumble back when you process the fact he’s referring to your underwear.
He hooks his thumb under the lace band and lifts it over your hip bone, moving it away so it won’t get wet. The stream of water ventures further into your inner thigh and the valley of your hip. Satisfied, he begins to glide the razor in precise strokes across your leg, pressing into your skin every so often with his fingers to get a close shave. It feels wildly intimate to have him do this, even if you’re convincing yourself that it's standard for his occupation.
You peek over your shoulder to see Josh staring at you, hands folded lifelessly in his lap across the screen of his tablet. His eyes are fixated on your backside, making you realize that your ass has been on full display for him the entire time. You’re thankful that you chose to wear this set tonight, especially the panties because of the heart clasp where the straps meet in the back. His gaze climbs up the curves of your body until it finally meets your eyes. He’s far enough away, but you swear you see a blush pinkening his cheeks.
You cock your head to the side, silently calling him out. His dumbfounded expression shifts into a devilish grin, but Jake interrupts his thoughts before he can say a word.
“Hey man, could you give me a hand over here?” Jake calls out over his shoulder as he dries you off with another paper towel.
Josh stands from his chair and pads over, well, nearly skips over to you in a matter of seconds. “What’s up?”
“Can you grab that stencil for me?” Jake asks him as he peels the gloves from his hands, pointing to the table, Josh hands them to his brother and walks behind you. He flips through them, and says, “So, I blew this up to a few different sizes.”
Josh’s fingers ghost up the small of your back to collect the parts of your dress that have slipped from your hold. You catch the pitchy breath that wants to escape your lips, but you can’t suppress the arching of your back to press your ass into him.
“You like that?” He whispers inches away from your ear, sending a shudder down the length of your spine.
Jake holds up the largest stencil to your leg for you to look in the mirror, walking you through the process. “I think this one is the best because of how it fills out the space here.” He wraps his now bare, yet steady hand around your hip, pressing softly into the supple flesh to rotate you slightly. He turns his head to the mirror as the pads of his fingers graze you, trailing across the sensitive skin of your upper leg with a barely-there touch.
“Black?” Josh taunts in an amused hum, quiet enough for only you to hear, “I definitely took you for a pink or red kind of woman.”
Your breath hitches in your throat, and for a moment, you worry that your knees might buckle under you as Jake goes on explaining as though Josh isn’t practically purring in your ear. “It just flows perfectly with your curves here.” He meets your gaze directly with the darkened pupils and his bottom lip tucked under his teeth, giving your hip a deliberate squeeze. “Whaddya think?”
“He’s right, y’know? Your body was made for this.”
Jake’s crooked, half-smile causes you to believe that he might have heard his brother. It’s a miracle that you haven’t melted into the cracks of the floor beneath your feet. The ability for you to concentrate on anything is thrown out the window with Josh’s warm breath cascading across the back of your neck with his twin kneeling before you, but somehow you’re able to release a shaky sigh, “I think it looks amazing.”
He nods and looks up over your shoulder. “Josh?”
Josh hums in thought as he peers over you and down at the reflection of the stencil held up to your upper thigh. “I agree with that placement. It’s gonna look fucking sick.”
He’s so close that you can feel the tip of his nose against the shell of your ear. “Might have you bend over the table so I can double-check his work from the back.”
Your face flushes with heat and you clench your thighs together in need just as Jake sets the stencil on the table. He claps his hands together in excitement with a pleased breath of laughter to himself. “Fuck yeah. That settles it then.”
You catch the cool scent from his mint when he asks, “Still need my help with your dress?”
You don’t need to respond. He already knows the answer.
Jake gloves his hands again, taking his time to clean and prepare your skin with an antiseptic soap. He proceeds to spray a solution to the area and begins the process of laying down the stencil. You’re able to keep the strap of your thong out of his way with Josh helping you hold up the back of your dress. With a careful touch, Jake presses the thin transfer paper to your skin in its chosen spot and starts smoothing it across your leg with gentle sweeps of his palms.
He slowly peels it away to reveal the dark purple outline of your design, giving you a little preview of your new tattoo. He releases a heavy sigh of relief once the paper is completely off, “We even lucked out on only having to do the stencil once.”
“Don’t miss me too much.”
Just as quickly as it all happened, it was over. You’re left standing alone, feeling flustered and in disbelief that it even happened in the first place. As you question the grip you have on your sanity, Josh saunters off back to his work desk while Jake escorts you over to the table he has prepared for you.
“Go ahead and lay down on the table here. Get as comfortable as you can, but I know that’s easier said than done on those fucking things.”
You crawl up on the Saran-wrapped vinyl furniture that resembles a large massage table. It’s padded enough, but you can tell that it’s going to cause your muscles to ache after a few hours.
Once you find a relaxed position that’s mostly laying on your left side, you lift the bottom of your dress so that it’s cleared away from your hips and legs.
Jake’s back is to you as he sets up his station, and asks over his shoulder, “What kind of music do you like?”
You blank out for a moment, forgetting everything you’ve ever listened to, which makes him chuckle under his breath. “Think about it while I get this set up. I’ll have Josh play whatever you want on the Bluetooth speaker.”
You let nervous laughter flutter from your chest. “I saw you had a record player and a collection?”
He spins around in his chair with his face lit up, beaming with enthusiasm from your observation. “We do! We use it a lot when we aren’t in the middle of a session. It just really sucks having to get up and flip it over.” He lifts his hands to show you the tight black latex covering them. “Gloves and whatnot.”
“Oh, I gotcha.”
The next ten minutes go by quickly as he explains the process to you, step-by-step. While he rambles on, you look around the spacious room as he goes onto the next steps of wrapping his work area, and machine, filling tiny ink capsules, and gathering all his supplies together.
Once he has everything laid out in front of him just the way he likes, he scoots in close and flips on the machine, firing it to life. “Ready?”
You sigh through a weak smile. “As I’ll ever be.”
He pats your leg in reassurance, “The first few lines are the worst, but it gets better…well, until the very end. Just let me know when you need a break, okay?”
You reply with a final nod.
He’s right. The needle puncturing your skin is a hot thrumming scratch as if a pissed-off bee has stung you and decided to drag its ass across your flesh. It’s painful, but not unbearable. Soon, your adrenaline and endorphins kick in, and it subsides into a dull sensation after a few minutes — just as Jake predicted. You’re thankful he doesn’t have too heavy of a hand, and that he works quickly starting from the bottom portion of your thigh.
Josh has put on the music you requested before he starts to clean up around the space, assuming it’s to close up the shop for the evening. He doesn’t hold your attention long when Jake engages in some small talk, asking you mostly about your family, friends, and work.
When your answers begin to trail off and shorten, he picks up the slack in conversation. He talks about his passions outside of tattooing, which you find out are music and cooking. You learn that he’s a confident guitar player as he tells you about the band he’s formed with his brothers, including Josh, as well as Sam, who you find out is the shop’s piercer, and that they happen to play local gigs on the weekends.
You listen to his soothing voice over the harsh buzzing roar of the tattoo machine, allowing your eyes to close as you find the calm space tucked in your mind. As the minutes turn into over an hour, it becomes harder for you to stay in that place. He checks in on you a few times, but you’re adamant to say that you’re fine and that you don’t need the break he suggests.
You’re fighting your body’s signals, struggling to stay still on the table while he works. When a low groan of discomfort escapes you, he suddenly lifts the needle away from your skin, noticing that you’re grimacing in pain with your face buried into the crook of your elbow. He taps your shin instead of bringing the machine back to your leg, and you pull your arm away now that it has become damp from your hot tears.
You prop yourself up on your elbow, and the confused look you give him makes him take a deep breath and push away from the table. He looks at you with an expression that’s filled with concern like he’s tossing around the thoughts in his head for what to say. “So, here’s what I’ll do-“ He pauses when you stiffen, but holds eye contact. “We’ll get through this outline tonight and then I think I’ll have you come back in a week or so to do the shading and color.”
Come back in a week.
A pout slips through and tugs at your bottom lip.
He laughs softly through a joke to reassure you, “No charge of course.”
“You just want an excuse to see me again,” you quip back, allowing a weak smile to break through your disappointment.
He gives a half-hearted shrug with a nod. “That might be true, but it’s clear that I’m hurting you right now.”
You try to save face with a joke of your own, “Isn’t that what they say? ‘No pain, no gain?’”
His shoulders fall and he gives you a look of defeat. “Why is it always the pretty girls that say stuff like that?” He scooches the chair on its wheels, close enough that he’s almost hovering over you. “Listen, It’s only going to get worse and I can't in good conscience — torture you for the next couple of hours just to get it all done tonight.”
You’re a little upset at yourself for giving him the impression that you can’t sit through an entire tattoo, releasing a deflated sigh from your lungs, “…Okay.”
Sensing the instant shift in your mood, he adds, “Hey, you’re doing great, okay? I do not doubt in my mind that you could power through this with no problem….but I’m also not gonna lie to you and say it’s not killing me to see you cry.” A playful smile makes an appearance when he mumbles softly, “…at least like this.”
Your jaw drops and hangs open, making him laugh and raise his hands defensively.
He straightens and huffs, “Oh I’m sorry, is Josh the only one allowed to flirt with you?”
“I heard that!”
Jake’s eyes stay locked on you as you both smile at each other, and while completely ignoring his brother, he asks, “You’re okay with that plan?”
“I guess so,” you say through a heavy sigh.
“You’re killing it.” He sets the machine down and stretches his muscles while still sitting in his chair, wincing in pain. “Although, my back is fucking killing me.”
“Because he’s a bitch that doesn’t stretch as much as he should!”
You giggle at the brotherly banter, craning your neck to look for Josh. Jake lowers himself and whispers, and you nearly moan at the feeling of his breath hitting your skin, “Don’t listen to him. He complains more than anybody here.”
“Somehow I believe it.”
“You have no idea.” The scent of cinnamon hits your nose with how close his face is to yours. He doesn’t linger long before rolling back to his position by your legs to rinse off the area. “So, let’s take a fifteen-minute break and knock out the rest of this outline.”
You were hopeful that the short break would help, but it hasn’t. Your skin is so raw and sensitive that each pass of Jake’s steady hand feels like a white-hot knife being dragged across your leg.
Your hands are balled into fists as you desperately try to find your calm, happy place deep in the folds of your mind. Despite your best efforts, whimpers of pain and discomfort start leaving your mouth more freely.
You don’t notice Josh walking up to the table until you barely hear his voice over the machine. “Nice. It’s looking great already.”
Their voices seem distorted and far away like you’re stuck in a type of lucid dream state.
“I’m trying to wrap this up for her. She’s fucking over it, poor thing.”
Josh hums in agreement. “How long?”
Jake clicks his tongue a few times, wiping over the area with a paper towel that feels like eighty-grit sandpaper. “Hmmm…I dunno, maybe thirty if she’s got it in her.”
Josh grabs a chair, settles in on its cushion, and pulls it right behind the head of the table. He gently taps your arm, getting your attention, and coos softly, “You doing okay, sweet girl?”
You nod, sniffling back the tears.
He rubs your arm that’s still draped across the middle of your face. “You’re doing great. You think you got another half an hour in you?”
“Yeah,” you answer, muffling the sound of your voice into your forearm.
“Atta girl.” You can picture the smile on his face as he says it, making your heart skip a beat.
Josh hooks his left arm under your head to hold your right arm while rubbing circles across your shoulder and down your back. At first, you flinch and lock up, making him say, “Try to relax for us, it hurts the tenser you are.”
You welcome the embrace, melting into his comforting touch. He adjusts with each deep breath you take, and you find yourself nuzzling your nose into his bicep to smell his cologne and the fresh linen scent of detergent off his t-shirt.
You feel his breath hit your temple, “You’re such a badass. It’s gonna all be worth it, I promise.”
The next thirty minutes feel like a blur thanks to Josh distracting you from the pain. Although, the way you’re melting into his body with Jake’s arms pressing against your thighs stirs a unique feeling between your legs.
“Okay,” Jake says finally, shutting off the machine. The blanket of quiet calmness that drapes over you feels like a blessing. “I think you’re done for the night.”
Josh mumbles into your hair, “You fucking did it.” He loosens his embrace and slips his arms out from you.
Jake takes extra care in rinsing off your leg with the same green solution as before and dries it with paper towels. As soon as he feels you’re cleaned up enough, he offers a bare hand. “Wanna take a look?”
You’re pulled to a sitting position with his help, and you take a minute to stretch out your stiff muscles. Your feet hit the ground like you’re a newborn baby deer, almost toppling over if it isn’t for Jake holding onto your hands. He walks you to the mirror and your jaw drops to the floor when you see your reflection.
The mixture of emotions you’re experiencing hits you like a freight train. You’re not sure whether you should cry, laugh hysterically, or stand in complete shock in front of the mirror for hours — perhaps a combination of all three.
“Holy shit! Oh my god! This is incredible!” You take a few steps closer to the mirror, turning your leg side to side to see how the new addition of ink looks on your body.
He’s standing behind you, peering over your shoulder when he asks softly, “You like it?”
“Like it? I love it!” you squeal in excitement, turning around to face him. You’re not sure what comes over you at this exact moment, it could be a mixture of desire, tension, or even fatigue with some leftover adrenaline, or maybe it's just pure attraction to him that motivates you, but you reach out and cup his face in your hands. Bringing him forward, you smash your lips into his in a more aggressive kiss than either of you anticipated. He must not have expected it from how he flinches back slightly, but only for a second before he reconnects the kiss, deepening it.
He brings his hands up to weave into the tresses of your hair and snake around to the nape of your neck. The hours of build-up from sweet praises and gentle caresses are making you feel bold, and you flick your tongue across his lip in a hungry need for more.
His full, pouted lips part without a second of hesitation, and he slips his tongue across yours. You’re both trying to be mindful of the massive, fresh tattoo on your right thigh, but your impulses take over for a few seconds longer than they should’ve. You tug him forward with a hand around his hip, and for a fleeting moment, you feel him harden beneath his jeans when he presses up against your left hip.
Jake is the one to break the kiss through a low groan, eliciting a whine of complaint from you. He doesn’t let go, however, but instead smiles against your lips, releasing a breathy laugh, “Whoa. Hold on, dove.” The pad of his thumb sweeps over your cheek as the spiced, smokiness of his breath fans across your lips, “Trust me when I say we wanna fuck you, but I need to wrap your leg up first. Can’t go destroying my best canvas, can we?”
You’re not sure if you hear him correctly, so you pull back, confused, and mumble, “W-we?”
He cocks an eyebrow and licks across his bottom lip. “Oh, I just thought Josh here was making it painfully obvious how bad he wants you.”
You glance over Jake’s shoulder to see Josh sitting in the same chair as before, now with a leg crossed over the other and his hands locked behind his head. The expression he’s wearing on his face is a smug one, and he only responds to your questioning look with a playful grin and a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.
Your knees are wobbling for an entirely different reason as you walk the short path back to the table. The air is heavy to breathe, thick from the borderline-ferality between the three of you. Jake places a kiss on your lips while you lift yourself on its edge, and scoot back enough for him to wrap your leg.
The next sound you hear is the chair behind pushed out from under Josh’s legs as he stands to his feet.
He leans in on his extended arm placed behind you, and lowers himself to whisper in your ear once again. “I’m impressed. I was beginning to think you were just gonna walk right out of here after all that teasing.”
You want to say something back, but all you can do is mewl from the relief of cool water from Jake’s bottle rolling down the sides of your leg.
Josh nips the soft spot below your ear, causing you to lift your hips and clench your thighs before Jake places a firm hand on your belly. He breathes in a deeper voice that makes the wetness pool between your legs. “Are you gonna be a good girl? You’ve done such a good job for us tonight.”
He follows it with a sultry growl vibrating against the shell of your ear. “I bet that pussy is so fucking nice and wet, isn’t it? How bad do you want two cocks tonight, sweet girl?
Jake snaps at his twin, “Josh, would you cut it out? She’s squirming all over the place and I’m trying to lay this fucking Saniderm down.”
Josh huffs an irritated laugh, but behaves to the extent that he’ll settle for placing wet kisses on the path between your shoulder and your ear.
It takes all of Jake’s attention for him to apply the giant cling-wrap-like bandage to your tattoo with delicate precision. And knowing what’s about to transpire, he takes extra caution and adds a second gauze sheet over it for padding, securing it with black, medical foam tape.
Josh cheers the second Jake finishes wrapping you up, “Finally! I think it’s about time that we fucking celebrate. Wanna smoke?”
As much as you love to share a cigarette with him, you decide against it and shake your head to turn down his offer.
Without skipping a beat, Jake wheels his chair over to his work desk. “I have some whiskey that I only break out for special occasions. Want a drink instead?”
Josh places an open-mouth kiss on your neck as you are about to respond, causing the sound to come out more like a pitiful moan than a real word, “Sure.”
While his brother digs around the cabinets of his desk for the bottle of liquor, Josh walks around the table to stand in front of you, holding his open hand out for you to take, “C’mere, sweet girl.”
The staggered walk over to the couch is interrupted by Josh kissing you like he’ll never get the chance again. You can’t help but note how it’s completely different from his brother, how it’s not gentle or paced, but rather a clashing of tongues and hungry nips to your lips. It’s an insatiable type of hunger you’re not familiar with, but find that you’re craving every second of it.
He balls up the fabric of your dress and yanks it over your head in a swift motion, tossing it somewhere behind his back. He grabs a generous handful of your ass, squeezing it into his palm before sliding both hands along the curves of your body. His dull nails drag up the length of your back until his slender fingers meet the tiny clasps of your bra. With a flick of his tongue across your teeth paired with a precise pinch of his fingers, the garment is free from your chest.
He doesn't break the kiss as he guides you to the couch, laying you across the shined, leather furniture on your back. Slotting himself between your legs and propping his weight above you, the frenzied kisses finally leave your lips to trail across your jaw, to the sweet spot of your ear, and down the side of your neck. They’re wet and sloppy, touched by the warmth of his breath through each heavy pant against your tacky skin. The soft hairs of his mustache tickle you, turning you into a writhing mess as his lips explore the intricate details of your body. Acting from your desires, you hitch your left leg around his waist as he rocks his hips into you, catching his concealed erection against your lace-covered pussy. In the passion of tangled limbs, he’s still careful of your freshly tattooed leg draping off the side of the couch.
His lips graze from the hollow point of your throat, feeling the erratic beating of your heart against his mouth, down between your breasts until he wraps them around one of your bare nipples. Your hands fly up to find his face, and you let your fingers feel across the plush, buzzed hair along the sides of his head before they dive into the loose curls.
A pull of his locks between your curled fist sends a raspy groan from his mouth onto your skin with his nose pressing into the supple flesh of your breast. He laps his tongue over the sensitive bud, rolling it into the intoxicating heat of his mouth.
As much as he wants to stay here worshiping your naked chest for hours with no end in sight, he’s too impatient to finally taste you. His tongue leaves your overstimulated nipples to trail down the center of your abdomen, across your navel, and down to your left hip. He sucks a splotchy pink love mark on the thin skin, soothing the sting of it with a delicate lick of his tongue.
You couldn’t care less from the way his breath fans across your body, clinging to the wet lace of your thong between your thighs. He’s only inches away from where you want him most, and he’s making sure to keep you on edge as long as he can.
Between chasing the feeling of his mouth, and him sinking to the floor on his knees, you are now sitting upright against the back cushions of the couch. You’re in a special kind of daze, pulled under the current of your circumstances. You don’t even notice Jake’s presence until you feel his weight shifting across the leather next to you.
You watch as Josh leans back on his heels, and tugs his white t-shirt from his body. Your blurry, out-of-focus eyes start at his beautiful smile, scanning to his floral tattoos covering his neck, and down over where they connect to his chest piece where two sparrows are placed among a bed of flowers, one on each side. He takes away the chance for you to look farther down when he brings his lips to your inner thigh once again.
“I hope you didn’t forget about me, dove,” Jake croons in such a delectable voice that makes you feel like you’re vibrating from the inside out. His fingertips trace across the softness of your jaw just as Josh eases your thong carefully down your legs.
“No! No… not at all — oh my god!” You cry out the second Josh licks a languid stripe over your once-hidden clit. Somehow, you have forgotten about the existence of the piercing until he presses the tiny metal ball to your bundle of nerves, making you nearly leap in the air.
“Fucking show off,” Jake curses under his breath, causing Josh to chuckle with his face buried between your legs.
Feeding off the spark of jealousy, he guides you into a heated kiss with a hand around your neck, cupping your chin in his fingers so you feel the cool metal of his rings. It’s different from the first he had given, and as you fight in this sinful dance for dominance, it’s clear to you that he’s winning. Maybe it was meant to distract you from his brother, or maybe it’s due to the fact he’s no longer holding back like he was before.
He sucks a mark of his own beneath your ear, one that will be sure to turn a lovely shade of purple by tomorrow morning — another thing to remember him by. The sensation of Jake’s teeth raking across your throat as Josh rolls deliciously slow circles over your clit, overrides your brain’s basic functions. Every thought and every one of your senses is consumed by them, even to the point where the throbbing pain of your tattoo ceases to exist in your mind.
“Feeling a little thirsty?” Jake hums into your cheek as he caresses a middle finger from your throat and down the center of your chest.
“Mmhmm.’” The whimper you give is pathetic at best, just as he likes it.
An expert flick of Josh’s tongue makes you roll your head back and clench your thighs around his head, but the soreness in your muscles makes you wince. “Careful now, dove.”
Through your fogged vision, you peer through half-closed lids to watch Jake take a swig from the bottle. He leans in, placing his thumb on your bottom lip, signaling you to open for him. You’re eager, allowing him to spill the shot of whiskey into your waiting mouth. It burns in the best way as you swallow it down, feeling the warmth in your belly, with his palm resting around your throat. The grasp tightens right as he licks across your mouth, wiping away any of the liquor that has spilled from your swollen lips. He hovers right at your ear, sending the growl straight through you, “You do exactly as you’re told, don’t you?”
The way Josh is sucking your clit, babying it, nurturing the building orgasm in the safety of his mouth like no one has done before causes the bindings of your composure to untether without anyone there to save you.
Pleased with the sounds rattling from your chest, Jake taunts the two of you, “We can’t leave Josh out, can we?”
The mention of his name causes his eyes to open and flick up to meet yours. The lust-blown pupils are almost black with unbridled desire, abandoning that playful, rich-toffee color you admired earlier in the evening. Now that you are taking in the sight of him more clearly, you see his right hand wrapping so tightly around your leg, that his fingertips are pressing hard enough into the thickness of your thigh to leave little indentations. You’re able to make out the tattooed letters on his knuckles now that he has your focus, reading the letters, “L O V E” on each finger.
Jake brings the lip of the glass bottle to your sternum and tilts it slightly to pour the amber liquid onto your smooth skin. It drips down your belly in cascading streams, causing you to suck in a sharp gasp between your teeth from the sensation. Before you can react, Josh rushes to leave his spot on your clit, lapping up all the spilled alcohol that tries to trickle down your sides. Jake huffs an amused laugh that drapes across the sticky skin on your neck, “Another one of his party tricks.”
You’ve now brought a hand up into Josh’s hair, using the loose, messy curls as reigns. The smooth, undoubtedly-expensive bourbon mixing with the taste of you, and the way you’re yanking on his hair has flipped an internal switch. The movements of his tongue are no longer gentle and delicate, because he’s devouring you as if his life depends on it, and the lewd noises he’s creating should’ve embarrassed you if you weren’t too bothered to care.
Your eyes are clamped shut so tightly that bright splotches of color begin to burst behind your lids as the impending orgasm twists in your belly with each passing second. Jake is already taking note of the signals your body is giving, telling him that you’re close; watching how your cheeks and chest flush a vibrant pink shade, the raggedness of your breathing as your lungs ache for air, to the way you’re clawing at the top of his thigh and fabric of his shirt. Enamored by the sight of you, he leans in and bites at the tender flesh of your neck, sucking a pattern of marks over your breasts while he plays with your hardened nipples between his fingers.
Jake breathes in a sticky voice like it's coated in golden honey, “You enjoying yourself, sweet dove? I bet you taste fucking phenomenal. I gotta make sure to have you all to myself next time.”
Another pair of fingers tease around your entrance, causing a pathetic plea to rip its way from your lungs, “Josh…please!”
The teeth of his perfect smile press against you as he considers making you beg again since your voice sounds so pretty saying his name, but he decides to give in by slipping his fingers inside. The warm, wet strokes of his tongue paired with a coaxing curl of his two longest digits along your sweetest spot almost cause you to unravel in that very moment. The hard bridge of his nose is nestled right against your clit when he starts to thrash his head back and forth, not caring that you’re nearly ripping his hair out from his scalp.
It’s merciless.
The passion at which he throws you into the wall of your first orgasm is unprecedented. You could have been coming for three seconds or three hours on his tongue, but it made no difference in the end. You might’ve even blacked out, but you’re not entirely sure about that either. He stays there, regardless, with a clamped hand around your leg, licking you up until the point where overstimulation starts to take over.
When you finally regain the ability to open your eyes, you look down to see him smiling at you with the bottom half of his face drenched in your arousal. The shine on his lips glistens in the light, and it almost makes you sad when he starts to wipe it away with his hand.
“Now it’s my turn to play,” Jake declares into the humid air as he starts to shift his position on the couch.
You shake your head, and before he can ask why, you place your hands firmly on his chest and push him back toward the arm of the couch. He tumbles on his back, taking you with him. He doesn’t complain nor resist in the slightest from you taking charge. Returning the favor, you lick and bite your way down the vulnerable skin of his throat, feeling his adam’s apple move beneath your lips. Kissing your way along his jawline to his ear, you roll the silver hoop decorating his lobe along your tongue. He grabs you by the waist, rocking you over his lap while a whiny moan from him echoes in the room.
Breaking away from his neck, you sit back on his thighs and start pulling the embossed leather strap through the large buckle, trying your best not to get distracted by the outline of his cock hidden beneath the dark-wash jeans.
You whip the belt through the loops with an aggressive yank of your wrist and toss it somewhere across the wooden floor, hearing the metal clank against its surface. Once his jeans are unbuttoned, you slip your hand beneath the denim as well as the cotton of his boxer briefs. The exposed band of stomach showing beneath the bottom of his shirt quivers from your gentle touch. Your fingertips run around the warmth of his body, passing over the trimmed hair beneath his waist until you feel the suede-soft skin of his cock. You glance up to see his eyes fixed on your hand as tiny puffs of air leave his open mouth. There isn’t much room for your hand to move in his pant leg as you reach farther down, but you’re shocked by his length when you feel only him. Through an arguably smug laugh, he lifts and helps push his pants down enough that you’re able to release him from the restriction of his clothing.
With the sheer weight and size of him in your hand, you can’t help your eyes from widening in unfiltered awe. You begin stroking him, watching the beads of precome leak out and catch the light as they drip down. You settle on the couch, lowering your body across his legs in a more comfortable position.
Right as you’re about to bring the head of Jake’s cock to your waiting lips, you catch the sight of Josh walking past you with the zipper of his jeans opened, stroking himself in lazy pumps of his hand. He doesn’t let your eyes linger more than a second or two before he’s out of your line of vision.
I guess they really are twins.
Jake’s fingers sweep the fallen hair from your face to get a better look at you. You look up through your lashes just as you flick your pointed tongue along the underside of his length, watching as his eyes roll back behind his heavy lids.
It might be your only chance of the night, so you jump on the opportunity to tease him. The combination of barely-there brushes of your lips and kitten-licks of a soft tongue is making him shift and squirm beneath you. It’s obvious he’s fighting the urge to take control as his fingers fidget on his lap in building anticipation for what’s to come.
“Come on, dove. You know I’ve been thinking about those pretty lips wrapped around me all night.” His voice is thick, laden with pure eroticism.
The confession disguised as a praise sends a wave of aching need for more. Without wasting another second, you guide him along your flattened tongue, swirling it around every inch of his length. Adjusting to how he fills your mouth, you bob your head slowly with your hand stroking what your lips can’t reach.
Your attention is drawn away from Jake when you feel the weight of Josh’s knee pressing into the leather as he climbs on the couch behind you, but you still don’t stop the movements of your head. His fingertips are the first thing to touch you, making your back arch from the feeling. They dance across your spine, tracing down the finer details which causes a pitched moan to vibrate around Jake as he nudges the back of your throat. A firm hand kneads your ass, and you swear you can hear his breathing start to quicken over the sound of Jake’s.
You’re startled when his open palm cracks against it from a forceful slap without warning. It stings as the blood rushes to the surface to leave a reddened print, making you clench your thighs together.
It’s when those fingers roll over your overstimulated clit, that you gasp, gagging on Jake’s cock. The sound and feeling cause a curse to slip from his parted mouth, followed it a loud groan, “Fuck! That dirty little mouth of yours.”
If the tears welling in your eyes that coated your lashes didn’t cloud your vision, you would be able to see Jake’s head whipping forward with his thick brows pinched together when he pushes your head down on him.
With his hand wrapped around the thick base of himself, Josh taps the head teasingly on the swell of your ass a few times. You wiggle your hips, chasing him as he inches closer and closer before his twin takes notice of his intentions.
Annoyed with him, Jake scoffs, “Why do you get to fuck her first?”
Josh huffs a dry laugh, quipping back, “Because I do everything first, you prick. I’m five minutes older.”
“That’s a stupid fucking rea-Ah! Oh, fuck!” A certain lick of your tongue as you ignore their banter causes him to grunt the curses mid-sentence, stopping the thought in its tracks. He pauses to collect himself, gripping your hand as he warns through shallow breaths, “Slow down, baby, or else you’re gonna make me cum soon.”
Josh takes the cue and glides himself into your pussy with a deliberate push of his hips. A ragged, borderline-primal growl rips from the back of his throat the second he bottoms out. The position of his hands slips from your hips down to your waist with a roll of his body with his cock buried deep inside.
He whines, succumbing to throes of pleasure already, “Oh my — fuck! Fuck, you feel so so good, baby.”
The feeling elicits a similar reaction from you, making you crane your neck so you can watch him slowly retreat from you. His eyes are fixed down at himself being coated with you, slick from your arousal. The unhurried push back into you causes his eyelids to flutter closed. The lean muscles of his abdomen, ones hidden beneath the tattooed skin, flex, and twitch with each stroke. The image of the two large roses on each of his hips, placed on the curvature of his slender stomach, snags your attention the longest before Jake’s fingers hook your chin.
The slow, subtle grinding of his hips transforms into powerful thrusts, knocking the air from your lungs and causing Jake to slip from your mouth. With your face resting on the softness of his tummy, the strokes of your hand are listless at best. Your cries mix with the distinct sounds each time Josh’s ink-decorated thighs connect with your ass. The broken phrases from him are incoherent, but by the way his movements are starting to stagger in rhythm, he’s closer than you expect.
Suddenly, with his hand gripped tightly around your waist, he pulls himself from you. You might have complained about the empty feeling you’re left with if you didn’t feel his knuckles brush across your skin with each frantic stroke of his loose fist. His trimmed nails scratch along the small of your back as he falters through a violent shudder, and spills his warm release over the curve of your ass with a breathy string of curses tumbling from his lips.
Breaking the silence between you, Josh mutters in a strained voice as he pats the other cheek, “Don’t move.”
He stands to his feet, collecting himself through steady breathing as he walks across the room completely naked without a care in the world. Jake takes the moment to tip your chin up and lean down to place his lips to yours, persuading you into a sensual kiss. You don’t dare move an inch as you feel Josh’s release dripping down the back of your leg. Thankfully, he returns within the minute, bringing a warm, damp towel to clean you with.
After his brother is done taking care of you, Jake bolts upright on his knees, sending you crashing into Josh’s chest, pinning his brother beneath you against the opposite arm of the couch.
You erupt into a fit of giggles as Josh curses from the new position you’re both in. You’re wearing an expression of shock, but Jake only reciprocates with an amused raise of his left brow. “You really thought I was gonna be patient all night?”
Just as Josh had done minutes beforehand, Jake reaches back between his shoulder blades, and rips his black t-shirt off, throwing it somewhere onto the floor into a crumpled pile.
It’s the first time you’re able to see his bare torso so close to your face. Even so, your eyes can’t seem to focus on one thing in particular with the lack of lighting, but what you’re able to see is the distinct outline of a skull with a sword through it in the center of his chest, surrounded by roses and plumes of smoke. It would take you hours of tracing over every line, every inch of the art-covered skin to fully appreciate it all.
He looks above you, locking eyes with his twin through a silent exchange as if they communicated in an unspoken language. Josh hums in approval, and rubs his hands down the length of your arms before wrapping his long fingers around your wrists. He lifts your hands, and folds them over each other to pin them both behind your head.
Jake’s eyes find yours for a second, and you swear you can see darkness swirl within the irises like the unforgiving waters of a rough, uncharted sea. His gaze floats down from your face, pausing on your rising and falling chest before it eventually settles between your legs. He wraps his arm around your left thigh, leaving your right untouched, and pulls you up onto the tops of his legs.
He slips the head of his cock over your clit, causing it to shine in your wetness. With a nudge of his fingers at his base, he guides himself in a teasingly slow pace down to your entrance. You’re impatient and desperate, lifting your hips to take him in. He bites his lip through his intense focus, finding that he doesn’t even have to push, and lets the release of your muscles do the work for him. He slides in effortlessly, stretching you inch-by-inch to the hilt. You both exhale through a strangled gasp, and he stills for a minute, feeling the tightness of your walls clench around him.
His eyes close just as his head rolls forward with a breathless laugh escaping his chest, “I fucking hate when he’s right, but oh my god your pussy is incredible.”
Josh sings into the tresses of your hair, “Like heaven.”
The skull on his hand stares back at you when he places his palm on your belly while he thrusts deep and slow in each calculated roll of his hips. The added pressure on your stomach as the head of his cock brushes against the special spot with the pad of his thumb rubbing over your clit drags you off the edge into your second orgasm.
Your upper arms ache as they strain through each flexing muscle you have to endure. It seems rather inconsequential because you don’t even feel like you're present with your physical body with time itself feeling irrelevant. Sounds become muffled like you’ve stuffed balls of cotton into them, even if at one point you’re sure you were screaming.
Jake’s not far away from that place himself, catching up quickly as he rides through the crashing waves of your climax. You wish to have each sway of his tangled hair or how a thin sheen of sweat has coated his body burned into your memory.
You can see the internal battle he’s fighting with his temptations from the look in his eyes that are hidden behind his furrowed brows. He hisses through clenched teeth when reluctantly pulls out from you, and because of the timing, it doesn’t even take a full stroke of his hand before the ropes of his warm come splatter across your stomach. You flinch at the feeling, and Josh releases his hold around your wrists so you can relax them by your sides.
The three of you take the following minutes to come down from the collective high as your breathing starts to calm down to a normal level. No one has said anything for a while, so you decide that you’ll be the one to break the tension first, “So… do you take credit cards?”
Josh barks out a hoarse laugh, “Shut the fuck up.”
Jake adds to the laughter, and runs his fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his face. He slowly maneuvers off the couch to a standing position beside you. “I think it’s safe to say this one might be on the house.”
Tucking himself back in his jeans while simultaneously looking for the washcloth, he turns to his brother and instructs, “Josh, go ahead and disinfect this couch again.”
Josh groans in annoyance while falling back against the arm of the couch, pushing his sweaty curls from his forehead.
You’re given a new towel to wipe the evidence from your stomach as Jake collects your dress and underwear off the floor and hands them to you. “Here, dove. The bathroom is down the hall and to your left if you want to clean up a bit.” He then looks to Josh, addressing him directly, “Let’s lock up so we can get her back home for round two.”
You feel like you’re weightless, floating across the room, and only making it halfway to the bathroom when you hear Josh blurt out, “Round two?!”
I think we have something here.
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zombie ghost and vampire gn reader literally eating each other out of love send message
YOUR MIND !!! you are so fucking real 4 this
!! CW ;; cannibalism ? Question mark ?, I am a bit descriptive w this, usual zombie n vamp stuff, zombie ! Ghost is somewhat sentient ig, self mutilation, I am not sure if this counts as deaddove but it cld so beware, this is honestly shitty as hell since it was rushed out of excitement so beware of tht too lmao. Not proofread. !!
You happily watched as ghost attempted gnawing your arm, his broken jaw slack as his top teeth pressed hard against your cold skin. You cooed at him, petting the top of his head as you watched his attempt at eating you. You were feeling a bit hungry yourself, you realized, the lightheadedness that comes with craving blood coming back as you smiled fondly at the sweet sight in front of you.
“Hungry, are we?” You asked him, receiving a nod and groan. Back when your Ghost was alive, you two would discuss this vaguely, talking about the possibility of consuming each other’s flesh. He dearly wanted to; it felt like the only appropriate way to show his love. It never went past discussion, however. Maybe a few deep bites and cutting each other up to lick up the blood, but never anything past that. You knew how badly he wanted to eat you, and you felt similarly. It was this deep ache, this hunger in you that you feel in your chest, to consume the one you love and have them be a part of you forever and vice versa.
The aching consumed you whole, and you decided that there’s no better time than now.
“Hold on, dear.” You spoke softly to him, watching him pull away from your arm and looking at you with his cloudy eyes. You reached for his knife, the one in his belt, and without hesitation, dug it into your stomach after lifting your shirt. You carved in a circular motion, gritting your teeth in pain as you felt the piercing sting of your muscle and nerves being cut up. He watched intently, groaning occasionally as you finished your job. You dug your fingers into the wound and ripped it off the small piece of skin it was hanging off, smiling at him as your bloody hand reached for his jaw, your other one placing the piece of flesh inbetween his teeth and helping him chew. It was a lovely sight, and an even lovelier feeling. Your fingers caressed his bottom jaw as you loved it up and down for him. Hearing him groan in appreciation was music to your ears.
You carelessly threw his knife to the side. Holding his jaw in place, watching him swallow with slight challenge as he went limp against your shoulder, leaning on it and groaning happily. You went back to petting his head, leaning close to his neck where his throat is and taking a deep breath, the smell of dirt and rot strong on him, making you groan. “Ready?” You said, though you weren’t asking; you were going to do it anyways. You sunk your fangs into the side of his neck where his carotid artery was, feeling the blood gush out of it. It was like nothing you’ve ever tasted before, before you ever sunk your teeth into him you’d known that his blood would be special. It tasted strongly metallic, so strong it was almost disgusting. You could feel the maggots getting sucked out of his artery, and you carelessly chewed them up, feeling the squishy creatures almost explode in your mouth was so disgustingly good. Luckily, the strong taste of his blood covered up the taste of the maggots, not that you would’ve minded either way.
As you got bored of sucking, another idea crossed your head; you sunk your fangs deeper into his neck, hearing him let out a groan akin to a quiet scream as you ripped open he side of his throat with your strong teeth. It tasted horrible and dear god did you love it. His whole weight was practically on top of you, and if it weren’t for the fact that you were sitting down you would’ve fell to the floor. Their was more maggots on his skin than his blood, and you were glad as you chewed the soft, rotting flesh. You felt nauseous from the taste, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You felt it go down your throat slowly, struggling to stop yourself from gagging as it went down.
You were shaking; if there was a feeling shove euphoria this was it. He let out another, quieter groan, nuzzling your neck as you pulled away from his. Kissing the top of his head with your bloody lips, you told him how much you loved him. And although all he did was groan back, you knew he meant to say it back to you. You both were more than just happy at fulfilling this fantasy, you were on cloud 9.
#cod mw2#cod mw ghost#simon ghost riley#ghost mw2#🥩.requests#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#ghost x gn reader#simon ‘ghost’ riley#ghost x male reader#cod x male reader#simon ghost riley x male reader#simon riley x male reader#cod mw2 x male reader#🥩.short fics#🥩.necro’s faves
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Primal Needs
Pairing- Z-dog x reader x Quadritch
Summary- When the two toughest recoms set their sights on you, how are you supposed to say no?
Warnings- 3some, pussy eating, dirty talk, p in v, overstimulation lmk if I missed something
Z-dog and Quadritch sit across the cafeteria watching as you talk with Lyle, laughing at whatever joke he made. Z-dog's eyes trailed down seeing the peak of cleavage that showed biting her lip. Quadritch kicked her leg, "Stop staring at her." He said and all she did was scoff and side eye the man. "I can stare all I want at her." She hissed back at the man. And all he did was hum. His tongue clicked as you can towards them, passing them really. But as you passed your scent captured them, it was intoxicating a scent that they could only describe as mesmerizing, they wanted to dig there head into your neck as they fucked you hard, they wanted you, they wanted to do was make you theirs, and they would.
Dinner ended surprisingly fast, Z-dog and Quadritch had been watching you, waiting for you, dreaming of you, you had bewitched them and now they had to have you.
They watched as you entered your room and all they did was nod to each other and begin walking towards you. "Oh hey Colonel, hey Z." You say giving them a sweet smile. Oh that sweet smile, one of the many reasons you entered their minds and never left them was because you weren't as rough, as mean, as tough as the other marines sure when it came down to it you could protect yourself but they had this need to protect you from everything.
"Hey sweetheart." Z-dog teases and you can't help but have a growing blush spread across your face. In recent events you have noticed they've been more touchy, more flirty. But never in a million years would it cross your minds that they liked you. "Can we come? I have some important things we need to discuss." Quadritch said and your eyes widened, "Did I do anything wrong?" You quickly ask and they laugh which confuses you. "Nothing like that sweetheart, just some stuff." Z-dog replied and you shook your head slowly opening the door to your room. They step in first and you quickly behind them.
When you turned around their eyes were on you. "Luckily, I got the room that had the furniture." You joked grabbing two chairs and dragging them to the two. They sit down and you feel awkward being the only one up so you sit down immediately on your bed in front of them. "So what did you come to talk about." You asked crossing the bottoms of your legs.
"Yes, we have something to share with you." Quadritch begins and you bite the bottom of your lip in anticipation. "We share these feelings for you and we wanted to know if you shared these as well." He bluntly stated and you blinked a few times as the blush that had just gone down rose back to your cheeks and suddenly your body felt hot, they wanted you.
"Yes." You blurted.
You closed your eyes in cringe before you felt Z-dog's rough but slender hands caress your face. You open them and she has a smirk on her face before she brings you closer connecting her lips to yours. A firework exploded inside both of you as your hands grabbed a hold to her shoulders. She pulled away and you chased after her lips making her giggle. You whine needing more.
"Her lips taste good, better than I imagined." She says. The Colonel now had an obvious boner that was showing through his tight camo pants. He pulled you by your waist making you yelp as he helped you straddle his lap. His lips clash into your tongue sliding over your teeth. He pulled away and smiled at your flustered state and how you slightly gyrated your hips against his. "Needy little thing aren't ya'." He teased and you covered your face with your hands.
Catching your wrist he shook his head side to side. He flipped you over now back to his chest, you could feel his heartbeat, hear it was like heaven. Z-dog crawled in between your legs, her eyes were huge giving you a look that tells you you're fixing to be fucked stupid.
Her hands slide up your legs finding the sides to your shorts and pulling them down. The smell of your arousal sent her into a spiral, she moved your underwear to the side and admired your glistening with slick covered cunt. "Look how wet she is. All for us?" She teases and you turn your head away.
Quadritch held your chin and faced it towards Z-dog who had a menacing smile on her face. Then she went all in.
Her strong tongue dipped between your folds, savoring your flavor she laid long strips up and down your pussy. You squirm on Quadritch's lap trying to push your pussy on her tongue, but it was no use both of their strong hands held your hips in place. "Yeah that's right, watch her eat that cute little pussy up." Quadritch whispered filthy words in your ears only worsening the growing fever in your lower tummy.
Z-dog slithered her fingers from your hip to your aching entrance begging to be fucked. She dipped her fingers inside, your gummy walls accepting them with ease, you moaned and whined at the stretch of her fingers. "Fuck." You cry out as your thighs try clamping together as you cum. Vision blurs as you fucks you through your high. "Just like that, cumming like a good girl." She said curling her fingers inside you, making you cry out.
Sliding her fingers out she stood up tipping your chin up, you opened your mouth and she stuffs her fingers in your mouth.
While you licked your cum off of her fingers, Quadritch's pants became more and more restricting and you became even more irresistible as he saw how sweet you looked while having your pussy eaten. He lifted you slightly, pulling his pants to his knees. His rock hard cock spring out and you felt it on your leg, you still haven't recovered from your previous orgasm and you were still so sensitive.
Z takes her fingers from your mouth, a string of saliva connecting with your lip. His tip grazes your clit and you whine. And then he slowly inserts himself inside of you, slowly inch by inch sliding his thick veiny cock inside of you. He was so big, and the stretch hurt so painfully good. You shake your head as his hands fiddle with your shirt pulling it up. Z-dog's pupils dilate even more as she sits on her knees playing with your boobs and then Quadritch lifts your hips slamming you back down, tip hitting your cervix just right.
He did it over and over again, and your babbled nonsense as he fucked you dumb. The feeling of Z's tongue on your tits leaving marks, Turing and playing with your nipples only added to the overstimulation. He picks your hips up once more but slams you down more harshly making you cry, a borderline scream as you try closing your thighs, but it is useless.
"You like that baby." He chuckles as he slams you down on his cock over and over again.
You couldn't speak, all that was on your mind was them, their mouths, their bodies, only them.
"Baby's to fucked dumb to speak." He teased as his hips reached to bring him to you. "That's okay she doesn't need to talk." Z said bringing her hand to your clit giving it rough circles. And the overcoming feeling came again as organic pulses were sent throughout your body. And as your tight warm walls squeezed and clenched around his cock he came painting it with his sticky warm seed, filling you to the brim.
He pulled from your pussy and they watched as his cum dripped from your pussy. Z cleaned you up as Quadritch brought you over to your bed both cuddling either side of you.
You laid there for a while as your hands trickled on Z-dog's thighs going up slowly. "Don't start something you can't finish sweetheart." She whispered as she pets your head. "What if I want to?" You ask tease laced in your voice. And now you were on your back, you were in for a long night.
Tags-
@notkody-ig
#avatar 2#avatar 2022#avatar#avatar 2009#avatar way of water#recom avatar#recom smut#quaritch x reader#miles quaritch#miles quaritch smut#miles quaritch x reader#z dog smut#zdog smut#z dog x reader#z dog#z dog x reader x Quadritch#Quadritch x reader x Z-dog
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🤍𝐍𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦🤍
𝕔𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕡𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕠𝕝𝕠 𝕩 𝕗𝕖𝕞!𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣
word count: 1.9k
genre/tropes: romance, friends to lovers
summary: dating is hard, but maybe what i was looking for was easier than breathing...
warnings: none <3 pure fluff
notes from bambi: i tried a new format, what do we think? no usage of y/n, lowercase intentional, just a cutesy chris fic
busy?
nah wsp
can i come over
yeah fs, thought you said you were busy tn?
i'll explain when i get there 😵💫
see u soon kid
-x-
“hey.” i let my bag sink onto the floor and threw myself across chris’s bed.
“bro what, get off me!”
i grinned into his now-rumpled comforter. “make me.”
he snorted and yanked the covers out from under me, sending my legs flying. giggling, i stretched out over the far corner of his mattress. “thanks for letting me come over.”
“no problem. what's goin’ on?” chris had already halfway shut his laptop screen, giving me his attention. the soft pants i had bought him for christmas hung loose around his legs, one of which was pulled up at the knee. in lieu of a shirt, the towel from his shower lay draped over his shoulders. chris’s hair, dark from the water he refused to blow-dry out, stuck to his forehead in a very unflattering pattern. i tried to tell myself that, anyway.
“i was supposed to go on a date tonight,” i answered, staring at the ceiling. covered in those glow in the dark stars and planets people used to buy for their kids, it reminded me of the day chris begged for help putting them up.
“what happened?” he asked quietly. his brows were set in a line measured by confusion and annoyance at the possible explanations.
“i got scared and ghosted him.”
“again?”
“i know.”
“you gotta quit that. these guys don't deserve it.”
“...i know.”
“why'd you get scared?” chris asked, putting his arms behind his head.
“because what if he wants me for sex and nothing else? what if he says he wants a relationship and pays the bill and opens the door for me and takes me home and tells me we don't have to do anything if i'm not comfortable and then of course we do something because i can't fucking help myself and then he got what he wanted and never speaks to me again?”
i realized then, that i was shouting in my head and nothing had come out. chris still looked at me expectantly, his head tilted.
“you look like a puppy,” i told him, grinning.
“what the fuck,” he said, shaking out and shoving back the hair that threatened to encroach upon his vision.
“i got scared because…” i sighed, not entirely sure how to articulate my thoughts in a way he would understand. “Because how would i know if any of it was real?”
“that's why i don't fuck with love, like, that romantic shit,” he offered helpfully.
i glared. “thank you, christopher.”
“using my full legal name is insane.”
“you deserved it.”
“whatever bro.” chris paused. “i feel like there's something else.”
“how do you mean?”
“something else bothering you.”
“it probably has something to do with my self-confidence,” i said. “sometimes i think i deserve…everything, and sometimes i think the opposite.”
chris’s chest rose and fell with a sigh. this wasn't the first time we’d discussed the matter.
i looked over at him and his eyes met mine. i did this occasionally, the staring. it was a way to connect without speaking, which was often difficult around him. chris broke first, after a few short but comforting seconds, dipping his head to the side and gesturing me over to sit next to him. as i scooted my way over, he opened up his laptop again.
“new merch?” i asked.
“yeah,” he murmured. “you wanna help design it?”
i took the device from him, amid quiet protests of death and torture, and began to very gently give my two cents.
“no one likes yellow chris. don't make any more yellow stuff ever again in your life.”
“I LIKE YELLOW??”
“too bad.”
we compromised on black with yellow accented font. he's such a baby sometimes.
-x-
i stayed for hours. chris let me make a shirt design, we put a show on in the background, and when i commandeered his laptop to play music, he got up to clean his room.
a few clothes on the floor does not a mess make, but chris hated things being out of place. something as small as a sock left unattended would poke the back of his brain all day.
sometimes he would mutter things under his breath, talking to himself or singing.
“an i got all the drugs in the world that you need…”
“hold this.” (he tossed a shirt at me)
holding up a pair of sweats, chris asked, “...clean?” i shook my head. “matt’s room,” he decided, and took off up the stairs.
“you hungry?” he asked when he came back, hair disheveled.
i wrinkled my nose. “not for fast food.”
“you wanna make something?”
“god yes.”
chris laughed and pulled me off the bed. “let's go make something.”
-x-
we went up the stairs and upon hitting the landing, saw nick and madi pretzeled up together on the couch. “oh hey,” nick said, pausing whatever was on the tv. “didn't know you were here.”
“i thought you had a date,” madi said around a yawn.
chris seemed to sense the situation, or maybe he was just hungry, but whatever the case, he jumped in. “we're makin’ dinner,” he announced with a grin.
“y’all still have pasta right?” i asked, making a beeline for the pantry and rifling through the shelves.
matt emerged from his cave, scrubbing his face with the back of his hands. “we should,” he grumbled, annoyed at the lack of sleep he was currently indulging in.
“thank you. where.”
he nudged me over and produced a bag of angel hair noodles out of nowhere. “right in front of your face.”
“matthew…i'm gonna kill you,” i replied with zero emotion.
he raised his eyebrows. “alright buddy. you makin’ enough for everybody?”
“don't see why not.” i turned my head and waved chris over. “we have water to boil.”
he saluted me and made his way into the kitchen, passing matt (making his way decidedly out of the kitchen).
“is the pot clean?”
“i think so.”
“can you get it?”
“yeah. you want the salt while i'm over here?”
“yes please.”
“tap water or filter water?”
i looked at him for a long moment.
“i'm gonna get the filtered,” he said, snickering.
shaking my head with a smile, i let the stove heat up and stepped back so he could pour the water in. the muscle in his forearm tensed, offsetting the weight of the heavy filter. matt had turned the softer lights on, so gentle shadows lay over chris like a threadbare blanket.
i stepped over and let my head rest on the side of his shoulder. his shirt smelled like him, he smelled like his bath soap and his cologne and the detergent matt used on his sheets, and his hair was dry and fluffy now because he hadn't brushed it and i could probably stay there forever-
“you okay?” he murmured.
“yeah.” backing off again, i slipped a smile on my face. “all good.”
“i think…it should be good,” chris said, scrunching his nose, fully concentrated on the precise water measurement.
i cut my eyes at him with mock concern. “it’s never that serious chris.”
“what if my pasta’s water content is important to me?”
“is it?” i put my hand on my hip, desperately fighting the smile that threatened to take over my features.
“...no. but what if it was?”
“i can't handle you anymore. when it boils will you put the noodles in?”
“noods,” he said in reply, as if that was in any way helpful or related.
“who's nudes?” Madi shot up from the couch, dark hair a mess. “your nudes??”
“no, not me, i-”
Nick’s face contorted in disgust. “someone sent you nudes?”
“no no, it’s-”
“did you ask for them?” matt asked. having been seated closest to the kitchen and therefore fully aware of the context, he was just instigating. again.
i glared at the back of his head. “you're stupid.”
“that's not a no.” i could feel his shit-eating grin.
“who’s naked?” nick wailed, halfway off the couch.
“nobody! chris just-”
“so you didn't get nudes,” madi asked tentatively, still sleepy.
i turned back to chris. “are you gonna help me at all?”
“who, me?”
rolling my eyes, i addressed the living room again. “listen, chris just shortened the word noodle, THAT’S IT.”
"oh. why didn't you just say that?" nick snarked.
madi had already burrowed into him for another nap. nick let their show play on, detangling her hair absentmindedly. i shook my head and smiled.
-x-
“i'm gonna go ahead and put the noodles in,” chris said, already breaking them.
“thanks. you wanna make sauce or use the stuff in the pantry?”
“ugh, what's in the pantry,” he said, “don't feel like making anything that intense.”
“mkay.” i pulled the door open and began to hunt. the sounds of the house washed over me - RuPaul’s Drag Race from the living room, chris stirring in the cracking noodles, and matt typing away on his laptop. i smiled again. this house, these people, their lives - it put me at ease.
“‘scuse me…” chris said from behind me. i jumped as he drew out his words and stretched his hand around my shoulders to pull a spice off the rack. he felt me startle, he must have, because chris looked down at me with curiosity. “i scare ya?”
“only a little bit,” i said, lying through my teeth. he put his arms around me and enclosed me in a hug. “i'm glad you're here.”
my hands took hold of the forearms crossing my chest and i leaned back into him. “thanks.”
i felt his lips against my neck, pulling into a smile. “i'm always happy when you're here.”
the sugar-sweetness made my teeth ache, and i leaned forward. He let go easily, just like he did everything else in life, and spiced the noodly water on the stove with gusto, letting dark flecks fall to the floor.
i love you.
he looked a mess with his hair unbrushed and his brows unkempt and his smile unguarded.
i love you.
chris, who always handled my heart with care.
i love you.
how many ways could he tell me he loved me before i believed him?
here goes nothing.
“chris?”
or perhaps everything.
“yes ma'am.”
JESUS FUCKING-
my ribs cracked, splintering bone shards into my thundering heart. i reached for his chin, letting my fingers fall atop his skin and ever so slightly pulling him toward me. when his eyes met mine i couldn't wait any longer. “do you love me?”
chris didn't miss a beat. “of course i do.” he pressed his cheek into my hand, his head tilted adorably.
“no i…i mean like. for real.”
“come here.” he pulled me into a hug and i pressed my nose against his chest. “i've never been…afraid of it. love. with you.”
well that's good.
“of course i love you,” he said.
“...that's cool.”
a pause.
“really cool, in fact,” i continued. fucking tears. ruining my moment.
“are you crying?”
“no.”
“liar.”
“yeah.”
“sad crying?”
“happy.”
“that's good.”
“mhm.”
“you want me to let go?” his arms didn't budge from me.
“don't you dare.”
“yes ma'am.”
“you're burning the pasta,” matt huffed. we jumped apart, faces tomato red.
“yeah yeah you're so cute, i'm gonna be ill, puke gag retch, whatever,” he said, turning off the heat and moving the bubbling pot. “i'm hungry.”
nick and madi sat agape on the couch.
chris kissed my forehead, still grinning like a maniac. “wanna eat?”
i smiled. what is this, an epidemic? “yeah.”
“we can talk about it later okay?”
i smiled. “okay.”
-x-
ps: the noodles were delicious.
#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo fanfic#christopher sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo fluff#christopher sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo fanfic fluff#christopher sturniolo fanfic fluff#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo
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hii can you do where reader comes back home crying because of people at work making fun of her and saying bad stuff about her relationship with ney
of course lovely :)) thank you so much for your request !! I’m not sure if by “people at work” you meant her co-workers or customers but I just made it where the customers were being rude.
—————————
consequences / neymar jr
pairing : neymar x reader
When I said yes to Neymar after he asked me be his girlfriend , I didn’t realize all the criticism it would come with.
We met at my job - a jewelry store. He had went in looking to buy a birthday gift for his mom , I just happened to be the only available employee.
I didn’t know who he was at first , until after he had asked for my number and left. My co-worker basically screamed once I told her and she revealed to me who he was.
And after that everything was history between us. He was the best boyfriend I could ever ask for , the best partner I could ever have.
He had his own way of loving , and it’s one of the main things that made fall for him so quickly.
He’s easily a charmer.
On our first couple of dates he would always surprise me with small gestures - flowers , books that I had mentioned I wanted, small jewelry pieces , and much more.
I would always protest and insist how he didn’t have to buy me any of that stuff - that those weren’t the reasons why I accepted to going out with him but he would always brush me off , saying how he wanted to give me all these things.
He showers me with compliments any chance he gets , making me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.
I also deeply enjoy his touchy side. Kisses everywhere - no matter where we are or what we’re doing. His hands somewhere on me at all times when we were together. He claims he can’t sleep properly through the night if I’m not there next to him - or wrapped in his arms.
But all that aside - he’s very attentive to me and my feelings.
He always makes my feelings valid , he always insists on talking everything out with me. I don’t think there was ever a time where he’s been unthoughtful towards me.
I was iffy at first - to open up to him about everything but he made me feel so welcome in his embrace , and I easily was able to tell him anything that would be wrong with me.
But today - that all changed. I had never dealt with hatred towards me like this before.
When me and Ney started our relationship I made it clear to him I still wanted to have a normal life - I didn’t want him to expose me to the media.
Sure he would post pictures of us , but none ever showing my face.
We thought we were safe up until 2 weeks ago when the paparazzi took a clear picture of me and ney outside his house.
I tried covering my face once I noticed the paparazzi but it was too late.
The media soon found out who I was through Neymars following - I made the stupid decision of not making my account private.
My co-worker had tagged me in a photo of a work party we had - also tagging the location. I’m guessing that’s how Ney’s die hard fans found my job.
Every day since then it was a lot more busy , people specifically requesting me to take their orders.
When the pictures got out to the public , Ney insisted I quit my job and just let him work for the both us - something he’s been trying to make me do for moths.
But me being me - I told him nothing about his fans going to my job and acted as if the paparazzi spotting us changed nothing in my life.
I now realize that was a stupid mistake.
Earlier today I was helping two girls who had walked in and came straight to me for assistance. One blonde and another brunette , both seeming to be around 16 or 17.
It was all going swell until the questions started.
“So Y/N - how did you manage to snatch Neymar all for yourself ?” The brunette asks.
“I don’t discuss my personal life with customers.” I tried to remain as calm as possible , giving them a small fake smile. This was the first time anyone had actually mentioned our relationship to me.
The brunette looks at her friend , turns back to me and laughs.
“No seriously - are you like a you know service girl of some sorts ?” The blonde asks me now, whispering the last part.
Is this what people think of me?
“Excuse me? I am not!” I fight back , trying to hold back any tears. I have no idea what to do or say.
“Come on , Neymar couldn’t have seriously chosen you for no reason - I mean just look at you. You don’t have much to offer.” The blonde continues , her eyes raking down my figure , gaze filled with disgust.
I shamefully look down. My hands start to shake and no words come out of my mouth.
The girls start to snicker to each other. I can’t make out all the words that their saying because of their low tone but I do hear the words -
“If I knew Neymar went for the first hooker he saw on the street I’d been on that street months ago.”
“Security ! Please escort there two girls out.” I finally get the courage to speak.
“What ? We haven’t done anything! We’re simply shopping for a pair of earrings.” The blonde says , putting on a fake voice.
I look up at our security - Marcus , me and him get along very well and he’s been very aware of all the fans coming in and out of the store.
I mouth a “please” to him , just wanting these girls gone as soon as possible.
“Ladies please do not make me drag you out of the store. The exit is that way.” Marcus firmly says.
The two girls look at me and roll their eyes before walking out of the store.
I grab all of my stuff from the back room and clock out , not caring to warn anyone about me leaving.
I get into my car and rush home. As soon as I step into the house I burst into tears , letting myself fall on the floor.
When I left the store I didn’t even check the time - 5 pm.
The exact time Neymar gets home from practice.
My mind was so fogged with everything that had just occurred I didn’t even have time to notice Neymar on the couch.
His eyes look up and meet mine. He rushes up off the couch and comes to my side.
“Amor what’s wrong ? Por que minha linda garota está chorando?” He softly says holding me in his arms. [why is my pretty girl crying ?]
I’m so dumb. I should have went to my friends house or something instead of coming here. The last thing I wanted was to tell Neymar about the humiliating things they told me at work.
I bring my hands up to my face and wipe my tears off , trying to get out of his tight grasp.
“It’s nothing Ney , I’m fine.”
“Y/N everything is obviously not fine. I’m not letting you go until you tell me what is wrong.”
“I’m serious querido , everything is fine.” I try to get the words out and put a smile on my face but my tears betray me.
My thoughts going back to what those girls said of me , making me cry ever harder.
“Look at me” he whispers.
I look up into his eyes , my vision blurry with tears.
“Take your time amor. I’ll wait here for you to tell me what is wrong , you know I am always here for you. What ever it is you are going thru I won’t leave your side.”
He won’t budge , and it’s no use to keep it in , im sure those girls will upload the conversation we had to the media and Ney will find out one way or another.
“These - these -” I try to get out but more tears end up falling.
“Breathe amor breathe , I’m here for you , I’m right here.” He whispers , kissing my temple.
I take in a deep breath and finally calm myself. Ready to tell Neymar everything that had been happening.
“Ever since the pictures got leaked there’s been more and more customers coming into the store , specifically requesting me to take their orders - I’m sure you can figure out why. Everything was fine tho , no one asked any questions just eyed me a lot and looked very excited to be assisted by me. Until today - these two girls came in and told me the most horrible things.”
I can tell he’s bothered by me not telling him about the customers coming in but I continue before he has a chance to scold me about that.
“They asked me -”
“God. They asked me if I was your whore. They said I had to be a worker in that department of some sort because there’s no way you’d choose me out of thousands of girls.”
“Y/N -”
“Before you get mad at me for not telling you about all the people coming into my job , I’m sorry I really am - I should have spoked up earlier. I now see you are right about the whole quitting my job thing.”
“Meu amor I could never be mad at you , specially over something like that.” He begins
“What those girls said is no where near true and we both know it. You know why I chose you-”
“Do I really know why tho? Why did you chose me Neymar? You could have any woman you want.” I interrupt , a wave of insecurity going over me.
He drops his arms from around me and helps me to stand up , walking me over to the couch. He sits down and grabs my arms causing me to straddle his lap ,bringing one of his hands up to the side of my neck and letting the other rest on the outside of my thigh. Reaching up he gives my forehead , cheeks , and lips a small kiss before speaking -
“I chose you because when I walked into that jewelry store my eyes went straight to you. I could not take my mind off of you for the next week after that. I had to make you mines. I found any stupid excuse to go back there and just speak to you.”
“You have changed my life im so many unexplainable ways Y/N. There’s no other woman that I could ever dream of when I have you right here - all for me. You are the light of my life. I love and adore every single thing about you , you have bewitched me mind and soul.”
“I like to believe you were made just for me because there is no other woman on this earth that can make me go crazy like you. I will continue to show you-”
He leans forward laying gentle kisses on my neck.
“Every single day-”
His hand on my thigh starts slowly finding its way to my clothed center.
All my thoughts from what those girls told me earlier completely vanished , my focus now being on Neymar’s words and his hands making every inch of my body hot with desire.
I can tell he’s doing this to take my mind off things and it’s definitely working.
“That you are -”
I can feel his hard on under me so I decide to move forward - just a bit to tease him.
“The most utterly breathtaking-”
His hand at my neck now making its way to my behind , giving it a tight squeeze , causing me to roll my hips forward onto him again.
“And perfect woman for me.”
His face comes up from my neck before he smashes his lips on mine , i kiss him back immediately with everything in me.
I pull away to look him in the eyes and wrap my hands around his neck.
“I’m tired of us hiding linda. Eu te amo , e você merece ser mostrada como a beleza que você é.” [I love you and you deserve to be shown of like the beauty you are]
“Eu te amo mais.” I say back pecking his lips.
“And okay amor you win. But I’m really going to miss our privacy time together.” I add.
His hand leaves my center and comes up to my behind , giving me a squeeze before picking me up , causing me to squeal.
“We can have privacy time all the time princesa, just give me a heads up , the answer is always yes.” He says smirking before carrying me up the stairs while ripping off all my clothes.
“You’re crazy Ney.”
“Only for you meu amor.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
a/n : okay first off - i had to use the pride and prejudice quote i just had to. i know it’s definitely not something ney would say but this is all fiction so let’s imagine like he would lolll.
also i feel like i drag out these imagines a little too long or i go a lot into detail , that’s how i like my writing but if you guys do feel like their a bit long please let me know and ill make them short or if you guys enjoy them this length or even want them longer please let me know.
finally thank you again for who ever sent in this request i really appreciate you taking interest in my writing and thank you guys so much for 100 followers ♡
#neymar jr#neymar#neymar fic#neymar jr one shot#neymar x reader#neymar jr imagine#psg#footballer one shot#footballer fic#footballer imagine#footballer x reader#pinterest#ao3#neymar fanfic#fanfic
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The LO TV show isn't happening, and here's why.
Now, before I begin, courtesy to /u/Princess_Space_Goose because they're one of the driving forces behind these observations concerning stuff in the entertainment sector and they were the first ones to make a comprehensive post about it over on reddit shortly after we got into it in the Discord and compiled everything we knew. But I also REALLY wanna talk about this and I'm surprised to see I haven't yet. They've covered reddit, so I'm covering Tumblr LMAO
Disclaimer: Long post ahead. Much of what I say below is speculation but there's a lot of damning evidence to support it. Take it with grains of salt.
Rachel has vague-posted about the show a couple times over the past few years, but very sparingly so, always stating that it's "in the works" without anything to actually show for it. This would have been fine back in 2020 or even 2021 (the pandemic did bring a lot of television/movie development to a crawl) but we're over halfway through 2023 now.
So where's the show? Who's running it? What is it gonna look like? Which streaming service is it going to be hosted on?
We literally do not know any definitive answers to these questions because nothing has been revealed and at this point in the game, that's basically a death sentence. LO has been on a noticeable decline in stats over the past year, while we obviously can't access the backend numbers (and neither can Rachel as far as I know because WT guards them with an iron fist which is a whole other topic for discussion) it's still very clear by the comic's rating slowly but surely dropping and the like count average lowering (obv the like count isn't indicative of view count but if the ratio has remained the same, that means if the like count lowers, the viewership is likely lowering too). There's also been certain behavior from WT over the past year that hints at the comic not doing well, such as its VERY aggressive ad campaigning which often undercuts other series on the platform that are far better than LO and deserve the spotlight, but lose it anyways because WT just wants to keep its golden goose on life support even after its heart has stopped beating.
So the fact that we don't know the answers to these questions still after 4 years is NOT good. We don't know anything and while that was excusable 3 years ago, at this point, it's more indicative of the project being at a standstill or dropped completely, and what we dug up and discussed in the ULO Discord (and what was later posted to reddit) proves it with some very telling information dissected from LinkedIn and other sources.
So far, the only people we know connected to this project are Rachel Smythe (the creator of LO) and Stephanie K Smith (the appointed showrunner). Showrunners are the lifeblood of television series, remember this. Here's a little bit about her:
Lore Olympus still doesn't have a network, this means it has no definitive spot to air, which is not good at this point, because the network is what primarily funds these projects. Think of "Netflix shows" - they're not necessarily made by Netflix, they're made by studios that Netflix funds and as such they're given the Netflix branding because Netflix is their proprietary distribution network and benefactor. So LO has no network or streaming service funding its production. All of her other credited works have affiliated networks/distributors, but LO doesn't.
"But what about Jim Henson Company?" Jim Henson Company bought the rights to LO in 2019 to produce it, that doesn't necessarily mean they were onboard to fund the entire project. Again, these studios need networks to back them, not just for monetary purposes, but with the promise that their project will have a place to go when it's finished, whether it's Netflix, HBO, etc. Think of it like a movie theater - the movie theaters aren't the ones making the movies, but they have deals with the studios to air those movies with the agreement that both sides will be making money.
Jim Henson Company is a production studio, not a network. Not only that, but they're primarily for-hire for puppetry/animatronic projects, they're not the same kind of studio as, say, Laika, or Disney, or Warner Bros. Much of their work is done on the backend, creating animatronics and puppets for kids' productions, monster movies, etc. Currently they're working as the animatronic designers for Five Nights at Freddy's, but that movie isn't a JHC movie, it's a Blumhouse production, which has hired JHC to create animatronics for them.
So, the fact that they were the ones to buy out LO for production rights is... very odd. Because for starters, they don't tend to buy out production rights like major studios, they're typically for hire, but they're also not an animation studio. Any animation projects they've worked on were for concept art and design, such as Word Party, but the folks at JHC primarily specialize in conceptualization and practical effects. That's their whole shtick, it's what they're selling, it's what they get hired for.
That's all early stuff though, stuff we've been speculating on for ages. What came to light recently that spurred on this whole essay was discovering this one section on Stephanie K's LinkedIn:
There are a couple things we can glean from this. First, we know this has to be LO even if it isn't being named, because LO is the only one that was bought by JHC.
This also confirms that LO did end up with a distribution network, specifically HBO Max.
But it also confirms that Stephanie K Smith, the showrunner, is no longer on the project, either due to willingly quitting or being removed. According to the time stamps, she left in April of this year.
This is especially not good because without a showrunner, there's no leader. Showrunners are essential to these projects. So without a showrunner, and without any sort of announcement of a replacement, LO's television show is a ship without a captain, a car without a driver, a Hell's Kitchen without a Gordon Ramsay.
There's mention of an "animated presentation" but as mentioned in that reddit post above, that's not necessarily a pilot, it's more likely it was this. Which can't even really be called "animation", it's just video editing, rigging and tweening, but I digress.
There's a lot more in that reddit thread that dives into some of the details of Stephanie K's stuff, including the HBO Max affiliation and how that potentially connects to the Sydney Sweeney trailer, but ultimately, all of these breadcrumbs add up to one of two things:
LO's television show is in severe development hell which it likely will not come out of for quite some time, especially right now with both the writer's strike and streaming services gutting their animation connections.
LO's show isn't happening at all but with LO's numbers declining and its audience growing more fed up with the series (look no further than the comments on Instagram about LO's recent Eisner win, people are PISSED) Rachel and WT are trying to do as much damage control as possible by dangling a carrot in front of the audience they have left in the hopes that they'll stick around long enough on the promise of a TV show happening to keep siphoning cash and views. After all, there are two things many readers are still sticking around for - the SA plotline, and the TV show, and both of those things are being unnecessarily dragged out in the vaguest way possible with no real resolution in sight.
Neither of these are good, but I think what's even more telling is that, since that post was made on reddit, Rachel has attended SDCC and taken part in a new interview from Girl Wonder Podcast, and when asked about the show, all she had to say was this:
"Um, it’s been really interesting. It’s been educational for me. So, what I—what has been done so far is beautiful. Like, if I could share it, I would. But I can’t. Because it’s very naughty."
IDK if the "naughty" bit is referring to the show or just her revealing info about it, but the fact that NOTHING was shown at SDCC is just. Y'all, I'm sorry, but the show is not happening. If you're gonna show off previews for television ANYWHERE, it's SDCC. It's like the E3 of comics and entertainment media. So the fact that she's STILL VAGUE-POSTING ABOUT IT EVEN AT A MAJOR EVENT WHERE IT'S COMMONPLACE TO REVEAL TRAILERS AND PREVIEWS OF NEW PROJECTS, like... it's just not happening. Jim Henson Company bought the rights to produce LO as a TV show in the summer of 2019. Since then, we haven't seen a SHRED of news, if you google "Lore Olympus TV show" it'll still be the same 2-3 articles from 2019 talking about JHC buying the rights and that's it. If you do further sleuthing, all you'll find is Rachel saying "yeah it's still happening but I can't say anything!" which means fucking nothing at this point. The only 'hope' I have left is that they'll announce it at NYCC which has Rachel in a top billing spot in its advertising, but I'm really not holding my breath at this point.
Animated productions take a while, sure, but LO wasn't the only comic bought for TV production in that late 2010's/early 2020's era. Heartstopper was bought in 2019, and it made it to Netflix by April 2022. And it was live action, a medium SEVERELY affected by the pandemic, unlike animation, which wasn't affected as much because a lot of animation development can be done from home. What did affect the animation sector was streaming services like Netflix gutting their connections to animation studios and putting animated projects on the chopping block... which also doesn't bode well for LO.
It's 2023 now and we still don't even have anything beyond those initial announcement articles and Rachel making empty promises. It's not happening. Don't fall for the "it's coming soon but I can't say anything" nonsense. It's far less genuine now than it was 3 years ago and it has nothing to support those claims that it's actually in development, and ironically far more to support mere speculation that she's lying or doing damage control.
And, if it actually is happening, on a shred of belief in that being a possibility, then it sure as shit isn't being marketed well. Knowing how to build hype in a product is an entire course of knowledge. Marvel is practically the king of building hype, they're why people sit until the very end of the credits now in the hopes of seeing an after-credit scene, even in movies that aren't made by them. LO's numbers are bleeding right now, so to not show anything at even the major events like SDCC is a blatant misfire. Almost like there isn't anything to show in the first place.
You can take all of this evidence as you will. Some of it you may dismiss as "overthinking" or whatever have you. And a lot of it is speculation based on the crumbs we've picked up along the way.
But let me pose you this as a final thought: how can it be a good sign when everything being asked about the show, by fans and critics alike, comes down to "Is the show still happening?"
The best time to reveal proof of the LO television show was 3 years ago. The second best time is now.
#lore olympus critical#lo critical#antiloreolympus#anti lore olympus#long post#analysis post#essay post
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Knowing Enough for Him
Rick Grimes [ROMANTIC] | Daryl Dixon [PLATONIC] • She/Her Pronouns • Mute!Reader | Daryl’s Little Sister!Reader • PART 2 to “Knowing Enough for Her” • Alexandria brought a lot out of the group. The good and the bad. Making their time there an eventful one. Little did you know something good would happen to you…even if the honeymoon feeling was cut short • ANGST/SFW/NSFW - implied sex • TW: Scars / Injuries / Canon Violence / Past Abuse / Trauma / Nightmares / Self Harm Scars / Abuse / PTSD
Requested by: Anon
PREV
Daryl kept close to his sister the entire welcome into this community and because he’d have to translate for some of the people. Especially Deanna.
“Would you be willing to teach us? We have an ASL book in our library”
This place really has it all huh Y/N signs with her good hand to Daryl as he shrugs for the most part. She nods to Deanna’s asking as Deanna smiles warmly.
“Great! We can arrange such tomorrow but as for a job for you…we’ll still have to discuss such. We have a surgeon in our community that would be more than happy to take a look at that for you” Deanna refers to Y/N’s broken fingers from the time with the claimers watching her cover them with her other hand. She didn’t want to be reminded of them, even if there’s a reminder living on her.
Deanna took note that Daryl was protective of Y/N just from their interviews. No shit they are siblings. But she knew that if she messed with one, she was messing with the other…and worse.
“Where’s your sister go?” Rick asks Daryl about to enter their new residence when he noticed the archer skinning the possum he found outside the gates.
“Inside. She’s checking everything to make sure nothing surprises us”
“By herself?”
“You don’t want to see her when she’s in pain”
“She’s in pain?” Rick frowns thinking one of the Alexandrians must have hurt her further than what she has already endured.
“Yeah, but it’s her hand. We both know it’s bound to hurt. Just. The boss lady made her go get checked out by the doc…Y/N didn’t let me go with her, next thing yknow the doc popped one of her fingers back in place” Daryl rips the skin off tossing it on the railing to the house. “She’s scary when she’s in pain. Has been since…yeah. Anyway, if she tosses somethin’ at yea. I told you so”
Rick took what Daryl said with caution as he enters the house not finding Y/N immediately. He checked the place out himself finding some of the groups’ belongings in the living room and additional stuff provided by Alexandria for new comers. He half expected for Y/N to come out and smack him for the unexpected entrance but when he turned into the living room he saw her knelt down by the floor vent.
“Y/N, you feeling alright?” Rick frowns walking over to her seeing her give a thumbs up with her good hand. “Alright…then what are you doing?”
Y/N moved out of the way to reveal that the wooden panel can open along with the vent lid. In case they needed to hide anything and that’s when Rick knew he could trust her with his suspicions on this place.
The first couple nights everybody was settling into the one house just for the beginning. Daryl kept to the window next to the crib that was given to them for Judith watching Y/N check on her every now and then.
“I’m gonna sleep outside. In case of anythin’”
Take the sleeping bag from the closet, I’ll get the lantern I found in the garage Y/N took her time to sign such to her brother even if all she wanted to do was scream at how frustrating it was to not be able to use her other hand.
Daryl wasn’t going to argue with the others and frankly, Y/N wasn’t going to let them argue with him either. It’s a new community and they had their fair share of fucked ones that no one can blame him for wanting to keep watch outside.
As the Dixons were getting settled or more so Y/N helping Daryl get settled outside. Everyone else was getting settled in the living room and finally turning in for the night.
“You look cozy” Carol smiles stepping out of the house seeing Daryl lay out his sleeping bag while Y/N turned the lantern off for those starting to go to bed inside given they turned the lights off. “How long are you going to sleep outside?”
“Until I better understand this place” Daryl took out one of his homemade cigarettes and before he found his lighter, Y/N had lit hers the second she saw him take a cig out. “Thanks”
“Smart that you’re doing such. But what we really need is our guns back” Carol states right as Rick stepped out in a whole new/old look that part of him doesn’t really like anymore. “Well hello there officer”
You clean up nice Y/N smiles signing to Rick watching him nervously rub the back of his neck trying his best to contain his happiness when she said such.
“Thanks…” Rick almost forgot why he stepped out to begin with and cleared his throat to bring himself back. “Thinkin’ we can start sleeping in our own homes”
“I’ll be holding the Dixons or at least Y/N while her brother camps outside” Carol laughs quietly in mind for the other residences. “But we need to get our guns back”
“I agree”
It won’t be that difficult Y/N chimes in being met with confused expressions. Deanna gave me a job in the pantry. Firmly believes she thinks since I don’t talk that that job would be less communicative on my end. People come in. Check out stuff. Don’t really need me to talk back
“This will be easier than I thought”
It was Daryl’s idea to continue this plan outside the walls of Alexandria the next day. To avoid anyone overhearing what they are saying. Rick left the community with Y/N given she took care of Judith in the morning and part of him didn’t want to miss any moment.
“Y/N doesn’t have to risk her position in its entirety. All she has to do is leave the latch open to the window and I’ll go in and out” Carol starts with. “Then she can remove their existence in the record to avoid suspicions”
“They’ll instantly go after Y/N if shit goes south”
I can take care of myself, D
“I don’t care. They’re ignorant and it takes a while to learn sign. Hell…Deanna might even think you’re faking if anyone gets caught”
“I won’t let that happen” Rick interrupts resting a hand on Y/N’s shoulder reassuringly. “Promise”
Oh she can’t help the butterflies just from a small touch.
Y/N beams when he did such and reassured her of her safety, but she can take care of herself when it gets too far. Even might cross her own boundaries for such. She brought her hand to rest on top of his squeezing it before letting it slide off as she left first to go do the job she was asked to do.
The next day was the party and not everyone wanted to go. Daryl of course didn’t and when he brought it up to Y/N, he half expected her to try and convince him. Instead she remained silent.
“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to” Daryl frowns nudging Y/N for her attention as she brushes him off. “Y/N…what happened—-“
I’m late for my shift. I have to go Y/N signs before finishing tying her boots and heading straight to the pantry.
Something was off…Daryl at first thought it would’ve been because of the plan regarding the pantry. Then went to the uncertainty of Alexandria…before he even thought about delving into the more personal.
“Carol” Daryl quickly stops her before she got far from the house. “Yea ever run into Y/N check on her for me, alright?”
Her face instantly went from happy into worry when he said that. “Why? What happened?”
“I don’t know. She won’t talk to me just. If it’s anythin’ let me know” Daryl sighs going inside the house leaving Carol to ponder on such while he decided to investigate her room of anything.
Daryl jumps the gun when it comes to these moments but why was it happening now? The last time was when Merle died.
The pantry is almost always quiet even with two people, but that’s mainly because only Y/N’s group knows how to sign to her while the rest of the Alexandrians just talk at her. She was given a notepad from Deanna’s husband Reg after she told him about their new special resident.
Guess she doesn’t even want to try…at first
“Y/N, I’m going to go for a couple of hours to help some of the older folk then I’ll relieve yea” Olivia smiles watching her nod as she flips through one of the books she brought from the house they were given. “Just holler if you need any-….Uhm.” She caught herself and it wasn’t the first time Y/N’s heard that or let alone witness someone become awkward immediately. “Just. I’ll be back in a few”
Y/N watches Olivia leave the pantry and immediately went to open the latch to the window but more specifically break it apparently. These houses may have not been used but that doesn’t mean they don’t wear out. She didn’t mean to and knew if someone caught on that they would pin it to a new comer. But this meant they can come and go freely during the night.
“Hey, Y/N”
The poor Dixon flinched to the words before turning to be met with the sheriff’s worried expression.
“Sorry I didn’t…you alright?”
Just jumpy. I’m fine Y/N frowns tossing the latch to the window into the bin as Rick noticed her hand with the broken fingers were now just taped together instead of a splint. He’s a bit relieved that she’s healing finally after their encounter with the claimers. Did you need something? She signed after snapping to get his eyes back to hers.
“Right. Uhm. Are you going to this thing tonight?”
Still thinking about it
“Right…well, I hope you do. I would—-The group would really appreciate it. As much as some of us still don’t trust this place, others are tryin’…”
After years of not speaking you tend to read body language more than what an average person would do and Y/N could just tell he wants her there…even if it’s not together. Just. There. But something was constricting Y/N’s thoughts and the pain she’s been feeling wanted to strike her down.
“You don’t have to…I know your brother ain’t going and it’s okay if—-“
I’ll go, but I don’t want to be alone Y/N admits as that sparked a smile on Rick’s face taking it as an opportunity even if the man is out of practice.
“We can go together…Yeah. I mean. You me…and Judith…and Carl”
A quiet giggle escaped Y/N as she smiles up at Rick couldn’t help the butterfly feelings.
I will meet you at yours before the party
Rick nods with a smile before leaving. He felt like he won a million dollars but also could’ve been a bit less awkward about it.
The moment Olivia returns to the pantry she noticed Y/N examining a few things as she thought the worse at first but then noticed she written a list on her notepad.
“I can help you find something” Olivia smiles extending her hand for Y/N to give her the notepad.
It was still a few hours before the party and Y/N made her way back to the house carrying a few things that caught her brother’s attention but he knew Carol was inside and he thought she wouldn’t want to be stressed even further by his million of questions.
Even if Carol had plenty of her own but she didn’t question since Y/N entered already asking things of her own.
Mixing bowl?
“Yeah, a small one?”
Y/N nods setting the supplies she took down on the counter as Carol set the bowl down for her seeing the variety.
“You making a salve? What happened?”
Nothing that hasn’t already happened Y/N frowns putting a little bit of everything in the bowl, being handed a spoon shortly.
“You know you can trust me with whatever this is for right? Kind of already made you leave the window open risking your position, the least I can do is keep a secret”
It’s not a secret from Daryl, and won’t be to others once I go to the party. I just. I don’t like looking at it She frowns finishing mixing the salve together as she used to have something in the old world that helped with the inflammation and the itching pain…
“You want help?”
Y/N looks up with a bit of a pleading look.
Carol waited patiently with the salve on her bed as Y/N got dressed in something to make it easier for her friend to see. That thing to be seen was the huge scar on Y/N’s chest when she finally stepped out of the bathroom after putting a tank top on.
“Woah…” Carol suddenly blurts out as she realizes how off putting that could’ve been quickly apologizing after. “Sorry. I’ve..seen my scars just. Wow I have questions.”
It’s not new news that each Dixon child has their fair share of physical abuse by someone that should’ve protected them since the second they were born. But the running trend of when one sibling leaves the abuse goes on the next...just continued.
Only thing was when they lost their mother to a house fire, they almost lost Y/N in the process.
If one asked Merle, he always thought Y/N became mute because of that trauma. Being trapped in the fire under a fallen dresser that crushed her chest cavity is the reason for the scar. But Merle is only half right about her muteness. Screaming for a while to no one coming until the fire department came will always be the running nightmare.
But if one asked Daryl how he thinks Y/N became mute. He’s the right one. Mental trauma manifests differently in people who’ve experienced something traumatic. The fire was the start of Y/N Dixon’s downward spiral. Next of kin was the father, who has a criminal record. This leads to the next Merle, who also has a criminal record. Then left Daryl but he was also just a kid. So social services took Y/N after her accident and she didn’t go back to her brothers until she was twelve. That time apart lead her to close in on herself. She didn’t talk to anybody and that became normal. It frustrated Merle and confused Daryl but they both were just happy to have their sister back once Merle got some of his shit together to take care of both his younger siblings. Y/N used to either write to communicate with her brothers or be physical with the punching or pointing. It was actually Daryl that suggested and found an ASL book in the city library. Y/N was the smartest Dixon and taught herself pretty quickly that lead to her helping Daryl learn. It was like teaching a brick anything when teaching Merle but he learned enough, besides Daryl translates for her when she signed to anyone who didn’t know.
The scar on her chest though, will always remind her of how this all started. Her vocal cords were scarred but she hasn’t spoken since forever.
She doesn’t know if she still has a voice.
“You don’t have to go to the party, Y/N” Carol frowns a few minutes before the party as Y/N signs to her that she promised Deanna and that she was going with Rick and his family. She won’t be alone. Just uncomfortable given Deanna picked her outfit being a dress with a low enough cut to show her scar. Least she’s wearing a cardigan over it to close it over.
“You come find me if anything alright?” Daryl was last to chime in one more thing before Y/N headed over to Rick’s next door as he couldn’t help but worry about what others gotta say.
I will. You know I will Y/N gave him a smile while leaving to find Rick waiting at the end of the steps with Judith in hand. Someone’s excited she smiles instantly covering her chest with her cardigan as she made it to his level.
“Guess I am.” Rick smiles watching as Judith leaned toward Y/N wanting her to hold her. “Think she is to but not for the party”
Y/N instantly takes Judith into her embrace smiling even more when holding the little one. Judith instantly lays against her getting comfortable which lead to the two finally going to the party and right off this random women came up to them mainly to swoon over the baby but to also plant some seeds…or water them.
How old is your daughter?
You two make a lovely couple
She looks so much like you
You look fantastic for someone who’s had a baby
The little one is very lucky to have you two as parents
Your wife is gorgeous
Y/N couldn’t correct them, and Rick didn’t seem to want to. She couldn’t help the blush to form on her cheeks as she went to sit next to Maggie while still holding the baby. The time apart lead to Y/N watching Rick talk with one of the Alexandrians. More specifically Jessie with her son Sam with her who gave him a stamp.
“They seem to be hitting it off, but nothing compared to what I’ve been hearing about you and Rick” Maggie smiles elbowing Y/N watching her try and hide her blush. “What? You both aren’t correcting people and he hasn’t stopped smiling since he came here with you…what’s stopping you from doing anything?”
I don’t want to replace…anyone Y/N admits as she held Judith thinking about Lori and Maggie knew exactly what she meant.
“But life goes on…you’re allowed to be happy”
It’s not too soon…? She frowns at Maggie who was going to ease her concerns when the two heard Sasha lash out. Which felt more like a reality check.
The silence grew in the room as Sasha stood there anxiously that Y/N handed Judith off to Maggie before going to her friend and leaving the party with her. It didn’t resume right away, and some part of Y/N didn’t want to leave…but her priority was always to take care of her family.
It wasn’t until much later that Rick went to check on Y/N and ask about how Sasha was doing. He half expected her to be asleep and inside but Y/N sat on the porch swing in comfortable clothing smiling warmly when Rick approached her.
“Shouldn’t have left yea at the party”
What do you mean?
“I don’t know. Seemed like I gave yea Judith so I could talk to people…”
Judith is great company. I’m never complaining Y/N smiles scooting over for Rick to join her on the swing. Besides. I haven’t been feeling that great all day…Sasha was my out with that party and I stayed with her until she was well enough to get some sleep
“I didn’t…make you feel like you had to go right? You didn’t have to” He frowns feeling he stepped over a line of some sorts but she knew she was going to go regardless. The only thing that made it easier to go was going with him.
The retired sheriff relaxed when he felt her hand gently take his. Rick squeezes her hand bringing back that smile of his.
“Can I admit somethin’?” Rick asks watching her nod as he brought his entire self to turn toward her. “I…Uh…fucking hell…I don’t think I can ever live without yea”
It was subtle at first
The way he looks at her waiting for her to look at him and give him that beautiful smile of hers
How she’s perfect with Judith and caring to Carl
The power she had to her always amazed him
Especially her smarts to help not only her but their family
Y/N is perfect to him, and always has been even when reality takes them all down most days.
He couldn’t help but close the space between the two, pressing his lips firmly against hers. Half expecting her to pull away but Y/N held his shirt for a moment keeping the kiss intact before parting.
“I hope that wasn’t too far…even if there’s much more I wanna do”
The smile that graces her features after such leads to her standing from the porch swing extending her hand for him to take.
Don’t wake anyone Y/N smiles even more making him smile just as much before following her inside the house.
As the next morning came…Y/N stretches her body sighing as she turns to the other side of her bed finding a note but no sheriff.
Had to check on Judith and go on rounds. I’ll be back later darling - R <3
The warm feeling in her chest grew as she held the note for a moment longer before getting dressed for the day.
The day led to a small crowd surrounding Rick in his enraged state over how blind the Alexandrians were. He was becoming too much and Y/N watched as Michonne drew closer and she stopped her quickly.
Let me
“If he hurts you, I’m taking over”
Deal Y/N frowns pushing past a few people and bringing herself closer to Rick who aimlessly waved his gun around.
Right before Rick could say anything more, he tensed to the hand resting on his shoulder as he turned to be met with Y/N’s beautiful E/C eyes. Her worried expression never faltered as she didn’t sign anything and he didn’t say a word. Something switched in him that when she held her hand out, he didn’t hesitate to hand over the gun and before he knew it. He was out cold. Y/N had done the same thing she did to Daryl when they first met and he was causing a ruckus. She pinched a nerve that knocked him out cold and pulled away letting Glenn and Michonne take care of the rest.
After being confronted by Michonne and Carol, Rick left the cell to go back to the house before the bonfire later that determines his residency in Alexandria. He stopped at the steps finding Y/N leaning against the railing.
“You’re mad aren’t you?”
No
Rick looks at her confused as he brought himself to stand beside her. Why not? He signs wanting this to be more private.
You did what you did for a reason. But what the Alexandrians don’t know is that there’s a much bigger threat than Rick Grimes who’s just trying to show that to them. Y/N frowns rubbing the back of her neck. Even if he did risk his position here
You knocked me out, didn’t you? Before it got worse
Yes, and before Michonne gave you a shiner She laughs sadly crossing her arms as Rick brought himself closer.
They might banish me
Going to have to go through me to enforce that and we both know what will happen if I’m crossed Y/N scoffs smacking his chest getting a smile out of him before leaving to talk to Maggie about the bonfire.
She’s sure of it.
#cultofdixon#the walking dead#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#rick grimes#rick grimes x reader#Daryl PLATONIC#time uh doesnt exist in twd#cuz i cant remember time skips between the party to rick's outburst#rick grimes fanfiction#daryl dixon fanfiction
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Justice as spectacle in Fontaine, or a too long word vomit from a tired PhD in Law gushing over Genshin 4.0
Alternative title: “Justice must be seen to be done”, a visual playbook by Genshin 4.0
Intro: This is a valid use of a PhD in law, actually.
I made the mistake of playing the 4.0 update of Genshin while I was finalizing my PhD in law and politics, and the result was my brain refuse to think about anything else than judicial performativity and the use judicial spectacle in Fontaine. So time to make good use of 9 years of University by dissecting why I absolutely love how Fontaine’s justice system is presented. It was initially much longer and covering why justice as a spectacle is not necessarily an issue or sign of a disfunctionning legal system, then what exactly about the Fontainian justice system is actually fucked up, but it got too long so I’m keeping that for the indeterminate future. So the pitch of this thing is: Mihoyo is basically providing us with an animated First Person POV game version of legal ethnographic works on justice and the courthouse, and it is really cool.
And since I am a nerd with both too much time to read and to play, we are making this a proper academic, with literature and all, because listen to me, LEGAL ACADEMICA IS COOL, ACTUALLY, and law and literature at large is a genuine field of study that we, as a society, need to talk about more.
[also there is non-zero chance that I edit this brainrot and submit it for publication at some point]
Warning: I am basing this on 4.0, up to and including Act IV Chapter II (hence no discussion of the prison system) and if Mihoyo thwarts the whole thing with 4.1 [oops I am late so now 4.2, since 4.1 did not thwart it] then let’s do what we do when new results contradict existing theories in academia and just collectively agree to ignore it.
TL;DR: Someone at Mihoyo read Simonett’s 1966 essay on The Trial as One of the Performing Arts [Here, just read it, it is fascinating] and decided to make it everyone’s problem
Part 0: if this was not Tumblr.com I would make a recap explaining broadly what Genshin and Fontaine are but since you are reading this I’m going to assume you already know the context.
Part 1: Ok so how does the Fontanian Justice system work, exactly?
Alright, so each area of Teyvat has 1) one core theme/value and 2)a threat to that core theme/value.
Mondstadt has Freedom and people living in fear of a dragon.
Liyue has Contracts/order and the pandemonium of having Rex Lapis killed.
Inazuma has Eternity and being virtually frozen in time.
Sumeru has Knowledge and being entirely manipulated by the Akademia.
Fontaine has Justice and… Justice being parodied into a spectacle?
WRONG.
Because the spectacle of justice, especially the way it is done in Fontaine, is not antithetic to Justice itself. Spectacle is part and parcel of Justice and of any courthouse. Sure, all the dials are turned to 11 and y’know, it is legit called an Opera, but that is more the writers being a bit on the nose and adding drama for the player. The spectacle of Justice, itself, is not that far off from reality. And, hot take but bear with me: it is not (necessarily) a problem.
Ok, let’s dive into what we know of the justice system in Fontaine.
Broadly speaking, we have seen the criminal justice system, and it is an accusatorial, or adversarial model. It’s the US-style criminal procedure: you have a defendant trying to prove that they didn’t do it your honor, and a prosecutor proving that they totally did it your honor. To avoid this becoming a fistfight, you have a strict procedure to follow outside but especially inside the Court, and in the end, a neutral third party decides on the outcome or the trial.
Ok, now let’s zoom on a few things, and why the theatrics of them are actually very common.
Furina, our cringefail darling, is the prosecutor. And they get a lot of stuff right regarding the role of the prosecutor! She decides whether or not to prosecute, based on the information that she has, and whether she likes her odds or not. Fittingly since she is the Archon, the prosecutor in a trial represents the State, the interest of the State (the judge ! does ! not!). It makes sense that Furina, the ruler (theoretically) would be prosecutor and not judge. Moreover, and as we see plenty of times during the trials, Prosecutor Furina is not concerned with the victim, and not even necessarily with the truth; the prosecutor wants to know how likely they are to obtain a conviction in the end. Her job is to be convincing enough to establish a legal truth.
Neuvillette, for his part, sometimes look terribly powerless… but friends, that is what a Judge sitting during a criminal case often is. The first part of his job is to find sufficient information for the prosecution to decide whether or not to prosecute; he is supposed to be entirely neutral at this stage. He kickstarted the investigation straight after the death of Cowell, and was also the one starting investigation on Vaughn right after Lyney is proved innocent. He gathers enough evidence, hands them over to Furina and asks “So? Are you game or do you want to leave that alone?”
And once the prosecutor has decided to move forward with prosecuting, his job is to make the procedure move along, take some decisions based on new information, ensure all respect the rules (hence Childe’s immediate smackdown when he starts to act out a bit too much at the end. My man is here to make sure the rules are enforced and that also applies to Snezhnayan gremlins). In the liminal space of the courthouse, he is the supreme authority… over the procedure. He can tell anyone, including Furina, to stfu k thx. He starts and stops the trial. He allows witnesses to be heard or not.
And the last party involved at this point is the defense, usually the Traveler and any adorable twink we befriended that day [good for you, Traveler, good for you]. They present evidence, they have to be convincing, it’s basically Ace Attorney, we know that part.
Part 2: Mihoyo makes it clear that we are all actors in the Courtroom
Ok, first moment of pause.
Even though these are the most basic parts of a criminal trial, they are ALREADY steeped in drama and theatrics, both IRL and in Fontaine.
First off, Furina plays a prosecutor, Neuvillette plays a judge and the Traveller plays the lawyer.
No but really: they play their role in the Courthouse.
The game painstakingly presents Furina for the first time not as a prosecutor in a courthouse but as a cringefail princess. When we see her initially welcoming the Traveller, going “Fight Me” at them in the streets of Fontaine, she is not a prosecutor, she is just Furina the cringefail princess. We meet Furina as Furina, and later on only, we see her with her Prosecutor face. Furina is not a prosecutor, outside of the Courthouse.
I don’t even have to explain how much Traveler plays lawyer. We are, and I cannot stress it enough, NOT lawyers (yes, even you who developed an unhealthy obsession with Ace Attorney before Genshin). The developers even took the time to develop an entire new gameplay to really, really highlight that is a behavior that the Traveler can only have in the Courthouse. Traveler is not a lawyer outside of the courthouse.
Neuvillette is a bit of a special case. We do meet him for the first time in the Courthouse, as a Judge. But once again, the moment we meet him outside of the courthouse, he is much more approachable, definitely not the same persona as when he bitchslapped my problematic Harbinger into the Meropides prison [we are so going to write something about the Meropides prison once I have played enough 4.1 my friends – update post 4.1: ok Mihoyo that was weak commentary on the privatization of prison and prison labour but I’ll take it]. Neuvillette is probably the one that is the most associated with his courthouse persona, but there is still this gap between Neuvillette-Judge and Neuvillette-reflecting-in-the-end-of-Chapter-II.
So everyone is just themselves in their daily life, but there is something about a Courthouse that turns people into their judicial role. That’s what we call the liminality of the courthouse (Hadar, 1999). And it exists IRL, in a way shockingly close to what we see in the Opera Epiclese.
Magistrates, whether prosecutors or judges, do not act in their own names, they have a role to play. Someone woke up that morning, had breakfast, swore at the neighbour who did not park properly again, spilled some coffee on their documents again ffs, stumbled a bit on the little steps leading to the courthouse, and then, they put on their costume and started to play the role of the judge. As someone who has been in what can only be referred to as “backstage” of a court , and entered the courthouse with the magistrates, I cannot stress enough how drastic the shift in person is the moment a magistrate steps into the space of the trial room.
From there on, they are a Role. Furina, like any prosecutor, is not a prosecutor, until they are The Prosecutor, and then they are not themselves anymore, in the enclosed space of the courthouse. Have you ever seen a lawyer talk in their daily life the way to talk in a courthouse? No. Someone is just some person, until their put on the robe and their Lawyer Face and start their Lawyer Movement and Lawyer Tone. Traveler cannot go all OBJECTION when they have a disagreement with a random shopkeeper in Teyvat. The game doesn’t even give you the option – because you are not lawyer, unless you are in the court. None actually plays a lawyer, unless they are in the courthouse.
And an adversarial model encourages this. You have character, but for it to be a play, or an opera, you need a narrative (murder, ok, that will kickstart a narrative) and you need dramatic tension. Drama is created by the opposition of two characters having opposite goals, confronting each other. Simonett, a former Minessotta Supreme Court Judge, has a fascinating article called “The Trial as One of the Performing Art”, which really ecapsulates how an adversarial system is built on this drama:
‘The trial has a protagonist, and antagnonist, a proscenium and an audience, a story to be told and a problem to be resolved, all usually in three acts”.
More than an inquisitory model (hello, fellow continental Europeans), parties are encouraged to bounce off each other, take initiative, undermine and interact with each other. US courthouse TV shows loooove that, and Genshin absolutely leaned into that. The potential for drama was so strong and intrinsic to the story that For the first time, we got to play a character that was not even with the traveler: Traveler was off investigating, and we played Navia in the courthouse, because the sheer drama of being in the courthouse is too good for the game to pass.
Do you see it yet? Here is more. A judicial role is a role. IRL, a lot of it is emphasized by the robes -the - sometimes complete with wigs and accessories- that judges and magistrates must wear before entering the space of the courthouse. You put them on like you put on a costume -defendant, prosecution, judge and even audience alike (Cabatingan, 2018), there is a ritual of preparing for the performance of a trial the way you prepare for a play. Genshin characters cannot change their clothes [give us a proper fancy-af-judge-robe for Neuvilette Mihoyo you COWARDS], so the game does all it can to realllllyy show you a separation between the judicial role and the actor playing I in the courthouse.
Part 3: Game designers said yes this an Opera and a Courthouse because these are the same thing and they are right
[The urge to include Foucault in this section, but I do not have Discipline and Punish with me rn, rip]
Ok, ok, why not. But what about the stuff that is not in your random courthouse, like a damn AUDIENCE and the fact that it takes place in an actual OPERA ?
Aight, we gotta dive a bit deeper into two things: the role of audience in the judicial spectacular, and studies on legal architecture/judicial space. I told you legal research was cool.
Let’s start with the most obvious one: architecture.
The architecture of Courthouse is actually really important for the delivery of justice. The building embodies the task itself, and targets evert single person that interacts with the building in any way? It matters specifically because we take it for granted, that this this is just a building, that there cannot be more to it. Or: “Law in its everydayness, banks on the usage of visual means of representation, for they seem to lack artifice, and thus enjoy high persuasiveness” (Kumar, 2017, also this is a study on the architecture of the Indian Supreme court and it is so good). But thi is, of course, on purpose.
My friends, your local courthouse looks like an opera. Recently, I went to a play which was entirely a trial, and they barely had to do anything to set-up the scene because… the opera looks like a courthouse, and vice versa. Fontaine’s Opera Epiclese is this on steroid, and also actually used for entertainment like the magic shows, but its architecture and structure are so close to a proper courthouse that once you see it you cannot unsee it. Not matter how different they might look from each other, all, ALL courtroom have the same setup:
Judges on an elevated position compared to all other parties : Neuvillette absolutely kills it here [my man is placed so high up I was close to writing something about the religiosity of justice.]
Prosecution and accused on two opposite sides, virtually separated by the judge, even putting the defendant in their own little liminal space in the liminal space (Zoettl, 2016, Mulcahy, 2007)
Audience space and trial space clearly separated, with interdiction for the audience to enter the trial space
Audience space allowing to clearly see all angles of the trial space
The architecture of courthouse is strikingly similar to that of an opera’s, both in its spatial organization and its grandiose. The entire building is an opera, not just the ground of the stage. You even have a lobby, the space right in the Opera but not the courtroom, which is very similar to the space where people mingle during the interlude at the Opera – the social settings were many legal negotiations happen (Hansen, 2008)
[Fun fact: I am pretty sure the design of the audience space of the Opera Epiclese was inspired by two Parisian Opera houses: the Théâtre de la Comédie Française et the Théâtre du Châtelet. The stage itself is almost more church-like ; I am curious if anyone knows what the inspiration for the “outside building” actually was, for the Opera Epiclese?]
Eltringham (2012) has some really cool writings about the architecture, and people interact with the structure of courts (in his case, the International Criminal for Rwanda) and how all these features contribute to making the courthouse this liminal space where people can play their role, whether they realise it or not.
But, Almost-doctor, I hear you say, what about the spectacle ?! The audience enjoying the show ?!
Ah, yes. The audience. Just as with an Opera, the audience and the actors enter through differentiated means (the “segregation of circulatory systems”), all with their own point of access to the stage or the seats, and never the two shall meet. It is so important to a court system that you will find this feature highlighted by the architects that renovated the Bordeaux Courthouse and the US courthouse design and planning guide [These are just fun and striking illustration I stumbled on while writing this, you can find dozens of others from any given country]. These differentiated access path help reinforce the liminality of the courthouse not just for the actors, but for us, the audience as well.
You could even agree, with Garapon, that the audience itself is “playing” the audience, in the Courthouse (go read Garapon’s 2004 book, if you read French, it’s so good I swear and like it fueled 90% of whatever this word vomit is)). You are not really yourself, you have new, liminal role of spectator. A trial has a “need for a public”, even a silent one. “'Performance always intends an audience”, for Kapferere. and we can indeed talk about a Performance of Justice, when talking about how justice unfolds in the courthouse, especially in a criminal trial (Sausdal and Lohne, 2021).
The audience is an inherent part of the spectacle of justice – because is there a spectacle if there I no audience? If comedians perform a play with no audience, did it really happen? In the words of our own European Court of Human Rights (I am quoting the ECtHR on Tumblr.com, what is life): “Justice must not only be done, but must also be seen to be done” (Delcourt v Belgium, 1970). For Garfinkel “Legal rituals ... depend on the outside witness to confer on them not only recognition but validity” (Garfinkel, 1956);
Or, to put it more eloquently: “The need for the presence of a validating public at trials is enshrined in many constitutions and built into the very fabric of court complexes throughout the world. (…) Tthe court as a whole requires its reflection in the bodies of validating witnesses in order that this created place will bring sufficient gravity to itself.” (Eltringham 2012).
If a courthouse was just about the truth, or the parties involved reaching an agreement on what the truth is, there would be no need for the theatrics. We could handle a trial in a meeting group like problem-solving session in any run-of-the-mill company. Put everyone around the table, have a moderator, have a decider. That actually exist, it’s called arbitration, and you may have never heard of it despite the absolutely enormous amount of money that are involved (we are talking literal Billions of dollars every year, here), because the whole point is that it is discrete and confidential. But that is not how trials are, anywhere. It does exist though. It is called private arbitration, a form of private justice that focuses on problem-solving, expediency and secrecy, often because my friends, it involves big names and big money.
But justice? My friend, it needs to be a spectacle. It needs an Opera. Because this is how it gains sociological legitimacy, and it needs sociological legitimacy to function. By having an audience, it gains transparency and accountability.
Conclusion: teaser on why the spectacle of justice is not necessarily always totally bad, but also I am too tired to fully argue that.
Now, you might that it’s a bad idea. That what Genshin is doing is denouncing this inherently spectacular aspect of Justice, that there is something inherently wrong in justice being public and publicized for the gain of legitimacy, and sure, spectacular justice can become a parody of justice or a manipulation of justice and this has happened many times in history. And yes, you could go for that (although show trials have typically been at the service of an authoritarian regime in a transition phase, rising or declining, and target political opponents, which we do not see in Fontaine) but… I have another take for you.
Justice being a spectacle is not… inherently bad.
Hear me out. Making justice into a spectacle does not have to affect its outcome. The presence of a public does not change the course of a play.
Spectacular justice brings elements of entertainment such as narrative fulfillment and catharsis. That is clearly what Fontainians want: a satisfying end to the story, the truth exposed. Justice as a spectacle help people make sense of their reality, comfort them in knowing that justice does prevail. That the guilty do not go scott-free, that the good guys win, that justice is transparent, that prosecutor need to be able to build a good story to prosecute, and there is no good story is there is not someone who caused harm, and a victim that deserves justice. And, from the information we have so far, this does not seem to lead to miscarriages of justices, or a generally biased justice system. But frankly this is too long already and I just wanted to show that the depiction of the Spectacular in everyday justice is actually present everywhere IRL, and Genshin is just providing a really handy illustration, at this point of the story.
The Fontanian system is fucked, don’t get me wrong, but that’s not about the spectacular on its own. Long story short since it be worth its own word-vomit-style essay, it’s because the jury has been replaced by ChatGPT and there is no civil court, only a criminal court, k bye.
#I have no idea what this is it just would not leave my brain until it was written#genshin impact#tagging genshin bc it is the most relevant#law and literature#Usual followers feel free to ignore#Genshin people: this is NOT my usual content#might fuck around and turn it into something publishable at some point#this is probably still full of typo but I am not proof reading a word vomit that goes on this hellsite
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