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shellshocklove · 4 months

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lover, lover, lover | joel miller

pairing/AU: 70s!pornstar!joel miller x inexperienced!female reader

summary: after blurring the lines with your boss and pornstar joel in pismo beach, what happens when you come back home to LA?

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! reader is 23, joel is in his early 30s, accuracies and inaccuracies about the 70s and the porn industry, smoking of cigarettes (it's the 70s alright), misogyny (bc of the times™), swearing, use of pet names, oral (f+m receiving), use of sextoys, handjob, praise kink, soft!dom joel but also a hint of sub!joel, porn, degradation, no use of y/n

a/n: this is the part 2 to this fic. you should read the part 1 first or this will make no sense lmao. i know it's been months since i posted that one and i've gone back and forth a lot on if i was gonna write a second part, but here it is <3 again i wanna give a big thank you to my beloved @dustydaddyyy for encouraging me every step of the way, listening to me when i feel lost, and for reading through everything. i love you babes!!! <3

main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3

You jolted awake.

With a groan and a confusing squint, you sat up on your elbow. The back of your hand rubbed roughly at your eye as you looked around your darkened bedroom. The fan on your dresser huffed and swirled, blowing cool air in your direction with every pass – blowing away the memories of your dream.

You turned around to lay down again when you heard it. A distant sound of your phone ringing in your hallway. You let out another groan as you scooted out of bed, your nighty falling around your knees as your feet met the carpet floor. Shuffling down the hall you muttered a quiet “I’m coming, calm down,” to the phone.

You lifted the phone of the hook with a quiet, “Hello.”

“Did I wake ya, sweet girl?” the static voice answered.

“Joel, what time is it?” you sighed into the phone, your arm hitting the cool wall as you leaned against it.

“Um…” he started, probably checking his watch, “02.05.”

“Yes, you woke me up…” you told him, eyes tired and falling shut before blinking open in quiet panic, “Wait– did something happen? Why are you calling so late?” Fear squeezed around your heart, wrapping its cold hands around it as flashes of Joel getting arrested, or kidnapped… or something worse, played like a movie in your head.

“No,” he laughed, “No, sweetheart! I just couldn’t sleep.”

“So, you decided to wake me instead? You are aware we have a meeting with VCA tomorrow at 9am? I told you that didn’t I?” Two fingers pinched the bridge of your nose – trying to squeeze the sleep away.

You usually never forgot any of Joel’s meetings or commitments, and you prided yourself in staying on top of his schedule. You could swear you told him about the meeting the other day on the way back from Pismo Beach.

Pismo Beach.

You hadn’t seen him since you dropped him off. Two days had passed. Two days since… Since you’d had sex with Joel. Two days since he told you he wanted you to be his. Was Joel your boyfriend now? You couldn’t tell.

“Yeah, you did, you’re a good assistant,” he said, the smile evident in his voice.

The praise wrapped itself around your heart like a pink cloud of love – it made you smile.

“Thanks,” you whispered, your quiet voice making him chuckle down the other end.

You waited for his chuckle to die before you asked him, “Um… was there anything else?”

“You tired of me already, sweetheart?” he teased.

“No, never,” you shook your head, “it’s just late.”

“I know, I’m sorry baby,” the way he said it, he left the words hanging in the air.

A second passed in silence, and then another. You waited for him to say something else, but when the words never came you spoke, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Can I come over?” he almost cut you off, his words hanging at the end of your own like a teenager on a skateboard gripping tightly to the back of a bus.

“Tonight?” you asked, front teeth digging into your bottom lip.

“Yeah, now,” he clarified, “my car’s fixed– I can be there in probably… thirty minutes?”

“Ehm…” your head bumped against the wall. Thirty minutes? It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see Joel – you did – but it was so late, and you had to get up so early tomorrow.

“Maybe twenty if I speed,” he laughed.

“Joel,” you chided, a smiled tugged at your lips.

“Okay, thirty,” he relented.

You pushed off the wall, a finger curling around the phone cord. “If I say yes you have to be sneaky– and quiet. My landlord doesn’t allow boys to visit.”

“Good thing I ain’t a boy then, sweetheart.”

You snorted, teeth digging into your lip to kill a smile from blooming, “I’m serious, Joel! A girl got evicted last month because she got caught having her boyfriend over.”

“How’s that even legal?” his static voice wondered.

“I don’t know Joel, my landlord… she’s this old lady– super religious and she owns the whole complex– I think she inherited it from her late husband who was a developer or something. Anyway, every time I bump into her, she always questions me about if I have a boyfriend and then gives me this speech about how premarital sex is a sin, and how I’ll go to hell–”

“Shit, baby– move out,” Joel cut you off.

“I can’t,” you sighed, “It was the only place I could afford when I moved here.”

“Ain’t I payin’ you enough?” he teased, “I’ll talk to Ronald about a raise f’you want.”

You let out a chuckle, “I’m not sure it’s appropriate– or professional, to talk about this now, Joel.”

“Alright, baby– always so professional,” he playfully chided, “we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

You let out a hum, though a small knot tied itself in your stomach at the thought. You didn’t want Joel to get the wrong impression; that you wanted a raise now that you’d let him fuck you.

“See ya in 30?” he said, breaking the static silence, “I’ll be real sneaky.”

“Ok,” you said softly.

You told him your address, making him repeat your apartment number back to you before you hung up. You didn’t want him accidently knocking on the wrong door, and getting you evicted.

Padding back into your bedroom, you grabbed your silk robe hanging off the door. You twisted it around yourself while you turned on the lamp over your bedside table. The light bathed your room in a soft glow. You were starting to wake up a little now. Leaving your bedroom door ajar you walked back down your hallway with soft steps. Stepping into the kitchen, you grabbed a mug from your cupboard, busying yourself with making a cup of tea as you waited for Joel.

Thirty minutes later, you heard the buzz of your doorbell. Abandoning your cup on your kitchen table, you quickly hurried to your door, buzzing him in. Your heart hammered in your chest. The risk of getting caught so late on a Sunday night was low, but you could never be too careful. You waited for him in your doorway, your finger picking at your nail bed as you looked out for him to round the corner.

You breathed out a relieved sigh when you saw him, a smile widening across your face as he picked up his pace in a small jog. His grin was wide as well, all teeth and crinkles as he closed the space between you. With a small glance over his shoulder, he made sure he hadn’t been caught as you ushered him inside.

The light in your hallway was low, tinting everything in a warm yellow hue. His hands were on you in an instant, strong hands gliding over your waist from behind as you locked your door. In the next moment you felt his chest press against your back, locking you to his body in an engulfing hug. His nose dragged down the column of your neck, pressing sweet kisses into your skin.

“Hi,” he mumbled.

Leaning into his touch you hummed out a greeting. His grip tightened around you before he turned you around in his hands, your hands automatically wrapping themselves around his neck. God, he was handsome. Soft brown eyes shining under the soft light, you watched as they took you in, traveling down your bare face, down to your silk robe hiding your nighty. A sting of embarrassment panged in your chest under his gaze, maybe you should’ve changed into something else, something a little sexier. Then you realized what kind of sexy he was used to, sheer lingerie, stockings, garter belts and high heels, not whatever underwear you were hiding away in your drawers.

“Shit,” he whispered, eyes blown wide in the low light, “let me kiss you properly, sweetheart.”

His big palm cupped your cheek, bringing you closer before he brushed his lips over yours. He tasted like a mix of his last cigarette and beer. You didn’t realize how much you’d missed his touch, his lips against yours. Joel hummed into the kiss, nose bumping into yours as he held you close, thumb ghosting over your skin. The kiss was quick, but still tender, and when you broke apart, the embarrassment from earlier had faded.

“Missed your lips baby,” he whispered against them, emphasizing his words with another peck.

“You did?” your voice was breathless, eyes half lidded from his affection.

He didn’t answer, only catching your lips in another mind-blowing kiss. His hand not on your cheek traveled from your waist to the curve of your ass, where it squeezed. You jumped a little from his touch, breaking his kiss. Immediately Joel removed his hands, catching himself as he took a step back.

“No?” he asked, eyes searching yours.

A flood of warmth filled your chest, “No, it’s okay– it’s just… late.”

His eyes softened at your words, his palm finding your cheek again to softly rub his thumb over your skin, “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, “It’s okay…” you trailed off, your hand grabbing his other hand to intertwine your fingers, “Let’s go to bed?”

With his hand in yours Joel trailed after you down the hallway.

“The bathroom is just in here if you wanna use it?” you stopped at the end of your hallway, pointing to your closed bathroom door. Joel gave you a short nod and a smile, and let go of your hand, but not before giving it a little squeeze.

You stepped backwards to push open your bedroom door while he vanished to your bathroom. The alarm clock on your bedside table showed 3.08 in big red letters when your eyes flickered to it as you pulled at the strings of your silk robe. You twisted out of it and hung it back on the hook on your door, before you climbed back into your bed, waiting for Joel.

He walked into your room a few minutes later. You watched him from under the covers, eyes hooded with tiredness as he shed his clothes. Naked, safe for his briefs, he haphazardly folded his clothes, eyes flitting around your room for a place to put them.

“You can just leave them on the dresser,” you said, all cozy under the covers.

Sending you a small nod he sauntered over to your dresser with his clothes half-folded in his hand, where he placed them down gently. He stood there for a moment longer with his back turned, something catching his eye.

“So,” he spoke up, “what’s the review?”

“Huh?” You were confused.

You watched how his shoulders shook, grabbing something off your dresser before turning around, hiding it behind his back as he closed the space between you. You were still confused, a furrow pulling at your eyebrows.

“What d’ya prefer? This,” he started, revealing what he was hiding behind his back, “Or the real thing?”

In his hand he held the box with the dildo he’d modeled for. You’d forgotten all about it in your back seat while you were in Pismo Beach, only noticing it again as you’d parked outside your apartment. You had been meaning to give it back to Joel, didn’t take his ‘joke’ of you keeping it at face value, but then you’d forgotten all about it, leaving you with no choice other than to bring it inside.

“Joel,” you felt a flash of heat burn your cheeks.

“What? I wanna know,” he grinned, fingers fiddling with the cardboard to open it.

You gave him a chastising kick from under the covers, trying to shut the conversation down, but it only made him huff out a laugh.

“I don’t know, I haven’t tried it,” you said truthfully. The thought hadn’t even crossed your mind.

“What? Not even once,” his eyebrows knitted together, he almost looked disappointed.

You shook your head, “I was gonna give it back to you when I dropped you off on Friday, but it slipped my mind.”

“Why? I gave it to you,” he pulled the dildo out, the supposed perfect recreation of his package.

“Joel, you couldn’t have been serious about that?” you breathed out a laugh. It was hard to take him seriously with the toy in his hand.

“Well, now I’m a little disappointed, sweetheart,” he placed the box and the dildo on your bedside table, next to your alarm clock, “I really wanted to know your thoughts.”

He crept up the bed as you shifted over to make space, holding open the duvet for him to slip under.

“I’m sorry, Joel– I just didn’t think you were serious about that… and,” you trailed off when he wrapped his strong arms around your body, twisting around in his arms as he pulled you close against him.

“And, what?” he said, his breath huffing against the shell of your ear.

“I… uh, I haven’t… since,” you didn’t know how to say it.

But Joel knew, pulling you closer to rock his hips against your ass, “Haven’t what, sweetheart? Touched yourself?”

He wasn’t hard, but he wasn’t not hard – you could feel the semi he was sporting against your backside. It made you lose your trail of thought, as memories of the last time he held you against his body like this, filled your mind.

You had enough sense to shake your head, not trusting your voice to come out as words and not a strangled moan.

“No?” he teased with another rock of his hips, “Well, I have, sweetheart– touched myself thinkin’ of you.”

“Joel,” you couldn’t fight the whine from escaping as he rocked his hips against you again, his big hand slipping under your nighty.

“Touched myself thinkin’ about this beautiful fuckin’ body of yours,” his hand splayed over your tummy, traveling upwards to grab at your breast. “Thought about these pretty tits,” his voice got lower, whispering in your ear as he flicked a finger over your nipple, making you sigh. He let go of your breast, hand gliding down your body to ghost over the hem of your panties, “And this tight little pussy,” he finished.

“Joel,” you sighed, body reacting automatically to his touch. His breath in your ear sent goosebumps down the whole of your body, and a whine fell from your lips as he palmed your heat over your panties, feeling your arousal starting to soak the cotton.

“Yes, sweetheart, say my name as I touch your pussy. Tell me who’s makin’ you feel good.”

Fuck, it took all your strength to gather your thoughts, “Joel, it’s–” you let out a gasp as his fingers found your clit.

“What, baby?”

“It’s– It’s late,” you managed to breathe out.

And just like that, the spell was broken. His hand slipped from your cunt to rest over your waist. You twisted around to face him, a pang of guilt filling your chest.

“I’m s-sorry, I just–”

He cut you off by pressing his lips against yours in a quick kiss. “Don’t you apologize to me,” he said, eyes boring into yours, “If you ain’t feelin’ it, I ain’t feelin’ it, okay?”

You felt yourself nod, your chest filling with gratefulness. You wanted Joel so much, you did, you wanted him to feel good, but you didn’t want it at 3am when you had to wake up in four hours.

“Thank you,” you whispered gratefully, your forehead falling against his.

He shifted his face, cheek brushing against your forehead until you felt him press a kiss to your skin. “Nothin’ to thank me for, my sweet girl.”

You shifted closer to him, cheek boring into his naked chest, “It’s not that I don’t want to,” you told him, “I’m just so tired.”

Pulling you closer to his body, Joel wrapped his strong arms around you, “’s okay, baby, you just close your pretty eyes, okay?”

You nodded against his head before you whispered, “Good night, Joel.”

“Night, sweet girl.”

“Hey,” you felt a nudge in your side pull you from your dream, “How d’you turn off this thing?”

Then you heard it. Your alarm. The beeping was loud and obnoxious, but it did the job to wake you, usually.

With heavy limbs you sat up on your elbow, goosebumps spreading over the newly exposed skin as you leaned over Joel’s body to press the snooze button. His big hands found your waist when you leaned back, guiding you to straddle his body.

His lips found yours in a soft kiss, then another before he mumbled, “Good mornin’,” against your lips.

He didn’t give you the chance to reply as he pulled you into yet another kiss. It took you by surprise, your hand coming up to press into the pillow next to his head, to hold your weight. Under the duvet you felt his hand travel down your body, slipping under the hem of your nighty and dragging upwards, cupping your ass as he pulled the fabric with him. His touch ignited something in you, making you whimper against his lips.

“There she is,” he whispered, pulling away from your lips with a loud smack to press kisses along your jaw. It made you sigh, your body going lax in his arms as he pulled you closer, mind going blank from his loving. Then he suddenly tightened his arms around your body, his strong hand splaying over your back as he flipped you around to lay on your back beneath him. A small yelp fell from your lips at the sudden movement, the yelp turning into a giggle when he dived into the crook of your neck, his mustache tickling you as he pressed small kisses against your skin.

With a hasty hand he balled the fabric of your nighty in his hands, pushing it up your body to reveal your naked body to him. He sucked a breath through his teeth at the sight, eyes hungry with lust as they raked over your form.

“Need to fuckin’ taste you, sweetheart.” His voice was a low rasp, coated in residual sleep and arousal, “Been thinkin’ about how sweet you taste this whole weekend.”

You couldn’t hold back the whine at the back of your throat at his words, hips bucking by their own accord where he had your legs splayed open over his thighs. Arousal spread like electricity through your body, where it pooled like dripping honey in your tummy.

“Please,” you begged when his fingers found the hem of your panties, his pointer finger dipping beneath the band to run it across your skin.

“Yeah?” he coaxed, “Want me to eat your little pussy, sweet girl?” his finger stretched at the elastic, letting it slap against your skin as he pulled away. Under him you whined, frantic hands finding the back of his neck to pull him closer to you. In your hurry to kiss him, you missed his mouth, clumsily bumping your nose into his instead.

It made him breathe out a shallow chuckle, “Okay, baby, okay. I’ll take care of ya.”

He pulled back from you, your hands around his neck falling to your sides, and softly hitting your mattress. Grabbing at the soft flesh at the back of your thighs, he spread them wider, putting your covered cunt on display for him. His eyes drank in your body, studied how soft and pliant you’d gone from his touch.

You watched his face, his eyes, his lip twitching with a wicked smile when you jumped under his finger, starting to press slow circles down on your covered clit. He dipped his finger lower, caressing your folds over the fabric before he pressed two fingers into your covered hole as far as your panties allowed. You could feel how soaked you already were, your dripping cunt fluttering around nothing when he pulled back.

“Let’s get you out of these, huh?” he said, voice dripping with pity, “My sweet girl’s just beggin’ to be touched, ain’t she?”

To your own surprise you managed to peep out an answer, “Yes.” Your voice came out strangled and begging, your mind clouded over with Joel.

“Yes, that’s right, baby, you’re such a good girl, let me hear you.” He hooked his finger under the elastic, tapping your ass lightly. You lifted up off the mattress, helping him drag your soaked panties down your legs.

Under him you felt your mouth drop open slightly, watching him as he clasped your panties in his hand, his thumb rubbing at the wetness with a cocky smile tugging at the corner of his lips. With his thumb coated in you, he dropped your panties, losing them in the sheets as he brought his attention back on you.

His eyes bored into yours as he lowered himself between your legs pressing soft kisses against your inner thigh. His big hands splayed over the back of your legs, pushing them closer to your chest to putt your naked and dripping cunt back on display. You held your breath as you waited for him to finally touch you where you wanted, but then he hesitated. The air was charged with arousal, his breath fanning over your throbbing clit. A thought of how you might die if he didn’t touch you soon, crossed your mind.

With a desperate whine, your hand tangled in his hair. You didn’t know what to do, so you begged, “Please, Joel?”

His eyes found yours immediately, where he saw how much you needed him, but he needed it in words, “Y’want me to touch you, sweetheart? To eat your pussy?”

“Yes,” the words fell from your lips so fast you almost cut him off, “Please,” you added for good measure.

Your consent was all he wanted. He dipped his head to lick ever so gently at your clit, making you mewl under him, a needy desperate sound, begging for more. When he wrapped his lips around your clit, and sucked, that’s when you turned into a withering moaning mess under him, hips bucking into his mouth, chasing more of the pleasure he was giving you.

Joel hummed against you, the bass of his voice vibrating against your most sensitive spot, pulling you deeper under the blanket of pleasure.

When his hand loosened its grip around the back of your thigh to caress your folds, a moan got caught in your throat. “P-please” you stuttered, dying to have his fingers split you open and coaxing you towards your release.

But Joel removed his fingers, continuing to explore you with his tongue instead. He dipped down, tongue lapping at your folds, tasting your arousal like he told you’d he’d been dying to. With one fat lick up the length of your pussy he took your clit back in his mouth, going back to lapping and circling it just right, coaxing you closer and closer.

“Fuck.”

You were hauling quickly towards your orgasm. Your eyebrows twisted together in a tight frown, fingers gripping and tugging at his hair, your leg close to shaking with the intensity. You were right there on the edge.

Then he abruptly pulled away. The disappointing mewl escaped you on instinct, and Joel laughed. Laughed. Your heart twisted in on itself at the sound.

“W-what?” you muttered, confusion painting your features when he sat up.

Joel grinned down at you, a mischievous glint in his eye as he leaned down to your face and cupped your chin, his thumb rubbing your skin with tenderness.

“Want you to be good f’me, sweet girl, can you do that?”

Your head moved in his hand, a timid nod as you searched his face. “I–I can be good.”

His grin widened, all teeth and crinkles around his eyes. He squeezed your cheeks together lightly, a small pout forming to kiss away.

“Good girl.”

His mustache tickled your cupid’s bow, and you could taste yourself on his tongue, taste how desperate for him you were.

He left you breathless when he pulled away, your body all loose and pliant from his touch, not registering what he was doing until he was back to sitting between your legs. Your eyes raked over his body, his broad shoulders, trailing his happy trail down his torso to his waist, noticing the shape of his hard cock in his briefs, a wet spot staining them where the head was.

Fuck, you wanted him inside you.

Then you noticed his hands, and what he was in them. The dildo, of him. You shifted up the bed in surprise. Your nighty fell down over your chest as you sat up on your elbows, watching him with wide eyes.

He watched you too, turning the dildo in his hand to nudge at your entrance as he leaned forward to hover over your body, a big hand on your chest pushing you down.

“Are you gonna be good?”

“Joel,” you gasped, feeling your hole flutter in anticipation.

“Are you?” he pressed, rubbing the silicone head slowly up and down your folds, coating it in your arousal.

“Y-yeah, y-yes,” you nodded, face heating from the obscene slick sounds of your arousal.

With a wicked grin, his eyes flicked back to your aching cunt, before he pushed the head inside slowly, feeding your more and more until the dildo was buried inside you. A broken moan fell from your lips, mouth dropping open from the pleasure of being stretched.

“There you go, sweetheart. ‘s big stretch, isn’t it? Doing so good for me, my good girl, honey, my good fuckin’ girl.”

He pushed the toy in and out in shallow thrusts, working you open around the fake cock. It wasn’t the same, but still the stretch was divine. With his eyes glued to your cunt he pulled the dildo all the way out, only the head notched at your entrance, before slowly thrusting in all the way. You whimpered when you felt him nudge at your spot inside, your hand desperately grabbing for his other arm to anchor you from falling over the edge too soon.

“Joel,” you whimpered, “P-please, t-touch m-my–”

Joel picked up his pace, fucking you faster and deeper with the dildo, the obscene squelching sounds of your cunt filled the air between your moans. His grip tightened in your hand, guiding it to hover over your clit.

“Touch your what, honey?” He teased, pressing your fingers down, guiding them in tight circles.

“Ah– fuck,” you whimpered, eyes squeezing shut as you felt the coil in your tummy tighten, and tighten, and tighten.

Then it all became too much. With a broken cry you came, squeezing hard around the fake cock. Joel continued fucking you, a small gush of liquid pouring down over the toy with each thrust, as you pulsed and squirmed around it.

Catching your breath, you came down from your high, while small jolts of pleasure crashed over you, making your legs shake like a leaf in a storm. It was like your ears were ringing, before you realized they were actually ringing.

“This fuckin’ alarm,” Joel muttered, hovering over you to turn it off.

His voice brought you back to earth, as you turned your head to look at the time. Shit, you were gonna be late!

With shaky hands you glided your hand down your cunt to grab at the base of the toy still inside you, “Joel, we’re gonna be late for your meeting,” you murmured, slipping the dildo from your cunt. Everything was sticky and messy between your legs, a big wet stain growing under your ass.

Joel pushed your hand away, like he was scolding you for touching what was his. “We can be a little late, sweetheart,” he said calmly, before ducking down to press a kiss to your clit.

You shifted up the bed, away from his touch, anxiety an endless spiral in your tummy. “No, we can’t, Joel– They told me it’s a pitch for a new movie, you’ll miss out on a big opportunity if you don’t show.”

Between your legs, Joel’s head dropped to your chest, as a pained sigh left his lungs. He went quiet for a beat as you watched the messy curls at the top of his head, then he lifted his head to look at you, “Okay, then.”

You felt bad leaving him hanging as you both got out of bed, his rock-hard cock strained desperately against the fabric of his briefs – just dying to be touched.

“Joel, I-I’m sorry,” you closed the space between you, snaking your arms around him.

“Sweetheart, ya need to stop apologizin’”, he placed a dry kiss to the top of your head, steady hands finding your waist. Your heart swelled in your chest. He made you feel so safe.

You almost muttered another ‘I’m sorry’, before catching yourself, “Okay,” you nodded against his chest. You basked in his touch for another minute, his strong arms around you, breathing in the comforting scent of him – the intoxicating mix of his faded cologne, cigarettes and sex.

“You were enjoyin’ it though, weren’t you?” Joel asked as he pulled away. You could see the cheeky smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he looked down at you, “So tell me, sweetheart... it better’n the real thing?”

“No,” you said, your own teasing smile tickling your lips as you detangled yourself from him, and turned around to head towards the bathroom, “Real thing’s better.”

Suddenly you felt his hands on your hips, and then Joel was pulling you back against him. He pressed himself against you so you could feel how hard he still was, his aching cock barely contained by his briefs.

“Attagirl,” he half-whispered, half-groaned into your ear, breath fanning over your neck and making you shiver.

“I need a shower,” you said with a giggle, stepping away from him before turning around again, only for Joel to pull you close once more. He found your eyes, his hands barely loosening their grip on your body. You could still feel him against you, his hard cock now pressed against your stomach. “Do you… maybe,” you bit down on your bottom lip, wide eyes searching his face.

“Wanna shower with you?” he helped you with a grin, and you nodded.

Your shower was cramped, too small to fit two people, and even though you had been the one to ask, you still felt nervous under the streaming water. He looked so good; your eyes couldn’t help but trail the water droplets racing down his thick muscles. He watched you too, but more openly, his eyes not afraid to trail down your body – to glide over your tits, down your back, and over the curve of your ass.

And then there was his cock, still hard and leaking, making its presence known between you like a third person. What made it worse was that he didn’t even acknowledge it, just went about washing his body like nothing, pushing back his wet curls as he rinsed your shampoo from his hair.

Did he want you to say something? The thought fluttered in your stomach.

“Um, Joel?” your voice echoed against the tiles.

You watched as he tipped his head forward from under the showerhead, eyes blinking at you as soapsuds hit his broad shoulders and ran down his chest.

“You know– um… I can–”

Jesus Christ! Could you be less sexy.

When he didn’t say anything, you breathed out a nervous sigh, eyes flitting down to his cock, hoping he would take the hint.

And he did.

“You wanna touch my cock, sweet girl?” His whole demeanor shifted.

“Would that– would that be okay?” you said, your teeth catching on your bottom lip.

“More than okay, sweetheart,” he said, with a devilish grin.

You took a few steps closer, a shaky hand landing on his waist while the other hovered between your bodies, right above where his heavy cock twitched in anticipation.

You didn’t know what to do. Well, you did. You’d seen it enough times at work to know, but you’d never actually done it before. Another reminder of just how inexperienced you were when it came to all of this. You looked at him with uncertainty, for guidance, and without uttering a single word, Joel knew what you were asking.

He curled his fingers around your wrist, bringing it up to his face, and spat. Using that tender grip he guided your hand down between your bodies again – the back of your hand brushed against the rough hair of his happy trail – and down to the base of his aching cock.

“There ya go,” he whispered as your fingers wrapped around him, Joel’s spit smearing over his shaft as you moved upwards in an experimenting stroke, “Good girl, just like that,” he hissed through his teeth.

You tilted your head to watch his face. Watched how his eyes were so fixated on your hand wrapped around him as you began to slowly stroke his cock, familiarizing yourself with the weight and feel of him in your hand. You didn’t miss the way his breathing shifted, releasing a sound you’d never heard come from his lips before. A whimper.

“Am–am I doing okay?” you asked, your eyes following his down to your hand wrapped around him. He was so big in your hand, your fingers struggling to meet around the girth of him.

He hissed out a strained laugh. “Yeah, baby, you’re doing so good– massage the head for me a little,” Joel groaned.

You did as you were told, bringing your hand up to the tip with a tug, squeezing out a pearl of precum. It dripped down over your hand, your thumb skating over the sensitive head, and smearing it all over.

“Shit,” Joel hissed, “keep doin’ that, sweetheart, bein’ so good f’me,” he praised, encouraging you.

You’d never seen Joel like this before. So at your mercy– at anyone’s mercy – always the one to take charge. But now he was falling apart from your touch. He encouraged you further as his breath got heavier. You sped up the strokes over his cock, and his body slumped into yours, face buried in the crook of your neck, as he whispered breathy babblings of praise into your skin. A glowing feeling of pride grew in your chest as you brought him closer and closer to his release.

“I’m close, baby,” he whimpered in your ear, “don’t fuckin’ stop.”

So you didn’t.

With your hand tight around his cock, you quickened your pace, tracing your thumb over his slit just like he’d told you to do earlier. A slick noise of spit and precum echoed against your bathroom tiles. His thighs tensed, his hand grabbed at your waist to pin you to his body, and you knew he was right on the edge.

“Fuck, I’m comin’.”

With a string of praising curses, he came apart in your hand. His thighs clenched, his heavy balls tightening as cum spurted from his tip in ribbons over your hand. The bass of his voice vibrated against your skin, as you continued working him through his high, slicking up your hand and fingers even more.

You squeezed him until there was only a small dribble pearling at his tip. A white stream of cum ran down his cock and down to his balls, dripping down onto the tiles of your shower floor. And then it was too much, and Joel hissed, lifting his head from the crook of your neck to dab your hand away.

He didn’t say anything, only grabbing your face with both hands, crashing his lips against yours in a desperate kiss. With your hand messy from his release, you didn’t know where to touch him, opting to grab at his elbow with your other hand to steady yourself.

Out in the hallway, your phone rang, forcing you to breathlessly pull away. With a sorry smile, you ran your messy hand under the showerhead before quickly pulling at the shower curtain.

The phone rang loudly as you tiptoed down the hallway. Water droplets ran down your skin, leaving a trail of dark spots on the carpet. Your hand clung to the towel you’d wrapped around yourself while the other hurried to answer the phone.

“Hello?” you sang.

“Hi, sweetie, it’s your uncle,” a gruff voice answered.

“Oh, hi,” you said, leaning against the wall.

Down the hall your bathroom door opened, steam framing Joel’s body as he stepped out naked as the day he was born, with a towel resting over his shoulders. His heavy cock soft between his strong thighs– it was like a scene straight out of a porno, one he’d probably starred in. He caught your eye, and smiled, making his way towards you as he brought the towel up to dry his hair, his biceps flexing with the effort.

“What was that?” you stuttered, completely missing what your uncle had said on the other end.

“Almost hung up on ya, I said,” your uncle repeated.

“Sorry, I was just getting out of the shower.”

“I was just calling to say I’m driving a Corvette down to LA in a couple of days for a client. Was thinking I’d take you out to dinner– catch up– make sure you’re not getting up to any trouble down there,” he laughed.

His tone was lighthearted, but you couldn’t help but cringe. The trouble in question reaching his hand out to trace a drop trailing down your exposed collarbone, ducking down to place a teasing kiss to your skin.

“D-dinner sounds nice,” you managed to choke out, “Um, I know a nice Italian place down in Santa Monica.”

“Sounds great, sweetie! I’ll call ya after I’ve dropped off the car Thursday afternoon,” your uncle’s static voice replied.

“Thursday afternoon,” you repeated, “Ok, see you then!”

“So…” Joel started, his arms snaking their way around your form. “I ain’t the only man who wants a piece of ya,” he joked, after you’d hung up the phone,

“That was my uncle, Joel,” you let him know, your body melting against his touch.

“He’s takin’ you to dinner?” he queried.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “he’s driving a car down here for work, so he wanted to see me.”

Joel hummed, dropping his head to brush his lips over yours as his hand splayed over your waist slid down to the curve of your ass.

“Nonono,” you chuckled, pulling away, “Joel, we’re already late as is!”

“So what,” Joel groaned, pulling you back for another kiss, hands tightening their grip on your ass, before trailing soft kisses to the corner of your mouth, “We could stay in ya know... enjoy the real thing.”

Joel’s kisses continued along the line of your jaw, teeth grazing your skin.

“As tempting as that sounds,” you let out through a small groan as you felt his tongue tickle that spot under your jaw, “We can’t cancel this meeting.”

Joel’s lips stopped their descent towards your neck, and he took a breath, the force of it tickling your skin, before he lifted his head, lips grazing across your jaw as he kissed the corner of your mouth again.

“Later,” you promise him, eyes looking into his. Joel’s smile was wistful, another small sigh escaping through his nostrils before he brushed his lips over yours.

“Later.”

“Let’s get started? Or do we want some coffees before we start?” Ronald asked from his seat at the head of the table.

You were seated in a chair in the corner, the cigarette smoke hung low over the room. In your lap your notebook rested, cracked spine opened to a random blank page while your fingers fiddled with your pen.

All the big important men from VCA were here, eager to finally work with the infamous Joel Packer on their new big-budget project. The last couple of years had been big for Joel, multiple magazine photoshoots, longer features and obviously modeling for a sextoy, but this film would be his biggest opportunity. It would bring in a lot of money, and Ronald knew it. He couldn’t hide the dollar signs in his eyes behind his ‘friendly’ grin.

“Ey, sweetheart!” Ronald raised his voice. You lifted your gaze from your notebook, curious as to what he was yelling about.

“Yeah, you!” He looked straight at you, a hand waving you towards him. Did he forget your name? You wouldn’t put it past him.

Leaving your notebook and pen in your chair you walked over to him, hands wringing behind your back as you stood behind Joel where he sat to Ronald’s right. He looked at you with impatience, a crude finger motioning you closer.

“Why don’t you go get us all some coffees, sweetie?” he spat out the order, his sour breath hitting you in your face.

“Um, uh,” you looked to Joel for help. This wasn’t your job; this was a job for an intern. It was important for you to be here, to take notes, to know what arrangements needed to be done, and which people to call.

“Um, uh,” Ronald parroted, “just do it– isn’t it what I’m paying you for?”

It wasn’t, but now everyone was looking at you. Everyone except for Joel. His gaze bored into the teak in front of him, fingers tightly pinched around a cigarette. With no help from Joel, you held your tongue and muttered a “Yes, sir,” to Ronald before you turned on heels.

“Alright! I wanna start by introducing Cheryl here, making her film debut alongside Joel–” you heard Ronald start as you slipped through the door of the meeting room.

Outside the meeting room, you were met with a brown hallway, identical to the left and right. Wood paneling clad the walls, and you couldn’t help your eyes from peeking through the glass partition walls of other meeting rooms as you made your way down the hall. Everything looked the same. You turned a corner, and you swore you’d been there before. After walking for what felt like a small eternity, you made it to a break room with a small kitchenette.

The coffee in the pot looked old and stale, and you poured it out in the sink. As you waited for the fresh pot to brew you searched through the cupboards for a coffee carafe. The cupboards of the kitchenette were pretty empty, only filled with mugs and drinking glasses. With a sigh you kneeled to look through the cabinet below the sink. You tried your best to be fast, not wanting to miss anything important. Finally, you found what you were looking for. With fresh coffee in one hand, and paper cups in the other, you made your way back down a hallway you hoped would bring you back to the meeting.

A couple of wrong turns later you let out a sigh of relief as you peaked Joel through the glass partition wall of the meeting room. This better be good enough for Ronald, you thought as you opened the door, not bothering to knock.

“And I think that’s about it,” one of the men opposite Joel said as you placed the coffee and paper cups on the table, “We’ll break for lunch and go ahead with the chemistry test later today.”

Did you really just miss the whole meeting?

“Sounds great,” Ronald said, pushing his chair out, and standing to his feet to shake the hands of the men from VCA. Then the rest of the room came alive as people got up from their seats and gathering their things. In front of you a chair bumped into you, pushing you a little off balance.

“Oh! Sorry– didn’t see you there.”

It was Cheryl, Joel’s new co-star. She was young, just turned twenty-one if you remembered correctly, and gorgeous. Her blonde hair, curled to perfection, cascaded down her back. Her light blue dress clung tightly to her body, accentuating her curves while the deep v-neck showed off her cleavage.

You shook your head and put on a smile, muttering an “It’s okay,” as you stepped out of her way, and shifted closer to Joel. He was busy gathering the papers spread out in front of him on the table, tapping them lightly against the teak before gathering them in his hands, turning towards you and Cheryl.

When you didn’t make a move to leave, Cheryl cleared her throat, widening her eyes at Joel as they flickered towards you. Your heart sunk in your chest. It didn’t take a genius to take her hint – you knew when you weren’t wanted.

“I’ll uh… I’ll wait for you down in the reception,” you muttered to Joel, “Let me know what you want for lunch, and I’ll get you something.” Before he could say anything, you turned around to leave, grabbing your notebook and pen.

You knew you shouldn’t have looked back as you made your way out the door, but you did. The cold stone in your chest sank lower as you watched them. Cheryl’s body curled towards Joel as they talked, her hand landing on his bicep as she let out a giggly laugh. It made your heart sting, but maybe not as much as the ache of watching Joel’s bright smile, the one he so often gave you.

Over fifteen minutes later, Joel finally walked into the reception where you waited for him. You were hard to miss where you sat on one of the couches, reading a magazine, the only person occupying the space.

“Whatcha readin’?” he asked, slumping down next to you, so close his arm brushed against yours.

You couldn’t watch his bright eyes, and the cheeky smile tugging at his lips. So, you held up one of the porn magazines you’d grabbed off the coffee table, blocking his view of your face, substituting it with the woman adorning the front and posing seductively to the camera, showing off the biggest boobs you’d ever seen.

“Industry news,” you shrugged.

You earned yourself a chuckle, “Anythin’ interestin’?”

“Not really,” you sighed, quickly shutting the magazine, and throwing it haphazardly on the table.

You could feel his warmth beside you, his broad frame, and strong arms. The same arms who’d held you so close this morning. Still, you didn’t look at him, your gaze falling to your fiddling hands in your lap. A piece of skin around your thumb had come loose, and it burned as you pulled at it.

“Um…” you started, still watching your hands, “What’s the plan for lunch? You want me to go down to that deli you like– get you a sandwich?”

Joel’s arm brushed against you as he shifted in his seat, bucking his hips slightly to fish out his pack of cigarettes from his back pocket. “Ain’t no need to do that for me, sweetheart,” he said, his voice slightly muffled by the cigarette between his lips.

“Well, it’s kinda my job,” you mumbled, your face pulling up into a slight frown as you ripped the loose skin around your thumb.

“Yeah– but,” Joel drew a breath of his cigarette.

Now you looked at him, eyebrows pulled tight in a real frown, “But what?”

He watched you, eyes dancing over your face as he took another drag, releasing the smoke out the corner of his mouth.

“Nothin’.”

You couldn’t interpret his face with the way he was looking at you, almost as he was searching for something. A silence grew between you – it was ugly and festering, like a canyon had grown between you – it was something you’d never felt with Joel before.

“A sandwich sounds nice,” he finally spoke across the silence, and you nodded.

“Um– can I borrow your car?” you asked, clearing your throat of your anxiety.

“Yeah, sweetheart.” It was like your question had woken him.

Joel had driven you both into work today, your car sitting pretty in its parking space outside your apartment complex. He rested his half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray on the table before he fished his car keys from his jeans pocket and handed them to you.

“They have me set up in a trailer out on the lot next door– I’ll wait for ya there, alright?” The hand handing you his keys locked around yours, caging them between your hands.

You squeezed his hand, the familiar weight of it in your hand, the tenderness in which he held you, made you feel a little better. Shrinking the deep canyon between you to a ravine.

“Um, why exactly?” you asked, eyes glued to your intertwined hands.

“Shit– sorry,” Joel shook his head and shifted closer to you, his knee brushing against yours, “they want me and Cheryl to have a chemistry test before they go ahead with signin’ the contracts. It’s nothin’ big or anythin’– just a blowjob.”

Just a blowjob.

You nodded slowly. It was just a blowjob, but it was a blowjob from Cheryl. Cheryl who was younger with the perfect body. Cheryl who made him smile and laugh. Cheryl who could give him a blowjob, and not some sorry excuse of a handjob.

“Oh, okay,” you peeped, loosening your grip around his hand, clasping the keys in your hand.

You got up from the couch before he could say anything more, “I’ll go get you your lunch then.”

His cigarette resting in the ashtray had burned out, like your conversation with Joel. You bent slightly to grab your purse when his hands clasped around your wrist, bringing your attention back on him.

“’s everythin’ alright?” he asked you as he got up from the couch as well, closing the space between you.

Your lips pulled into a smile, one you hoped was convincing, “Yeah! Why wouldn’t it?”

His other hand came up to cup your cheek gently, shifting your face to look at him. “’s just for work, you know,” he told you.

Your head was nodding even before he’d finished talking, your face still pulled tight in a smile, “Yeah, Joel, I know.”

“Okay,” he whispered and leaned closer. You shifted your face in his palm, his lips hitting your other cheek in a short peck before you were pulling away. His fingers like a bracelet around your wrist, fell heavy to his side.

“See you in a little bit,” you told him before pushing the door to the reception open and stepping outside.

Some forty minutes later you were knocking on a trailer door with the sign ‘Joel Packer’ hanging on the front. In your other hand you were balancing two coffees and a bag with two sandwiches. You knocked again when nothing happened, scared you’d shown up to the wrong trailer for a second, even with the sign telling you, you were in the right place.

“Joel? I have your lunch.”

“Come in,” he answered almost immediately.

You opened the trailer door and stepped inside, careful not to spill the coffees all over the carpeted floor of his trailer as you balanced everything. With the door closed you turned around, eyes scanning the cramped room for Joel.

He was laying on the couch, one hand down the front of his pants where he palmed himself over his briefs – a lazy smile resting over his features as he took you in.

“Oh! Sorry,” you quickly looked away, scurrying to place his food on the nearest table.

Behind you Joel got up from the couch, crossing the small space between you to wrap his arms around your body, and press his front against your ass. You jumped in his grasp, your hands finding his where they rested around your waist.

“Stop apologizin’” he whispered in your ear, his teeth catching on your earlobe, “was just gettin’ ready, baby,” his breath was hot against the column of your neck, and you felt his cock grow against your ass. “Ain’t gonna have any trouble gettin’ hard now though,” he chuckled.

“Joel,” you whined, the sound pathetic at the back of your throat.

“Yes, baby, let me hear ya,” you could feel the bass in his voice vibrate against your skin.

His hands spread over your body, drinking you in with his touch, grabbing at your breast while pressing tender kisses to your neck. You melted against him, body soft and pliant. In an instant you were back in your memories from this morning, and you couldn’t fight the whimper from falling from your lips. With closed eyes your memories mixed with your present. Images of how he’d kissed you, touched you, and taken care of you this morning blended with the firm press of his body against yours and his calloused hands exploring you; like how you could still see your reflection in rippling water.

“Joel,” you tried again.

“I know, my sweet girl,” he cooed.

Behind you he bucked his hips against your ass, the bulge of his hard cock splitting your cheeks. You felt your arousal wet your panties, an ache of anticipation settling in your core.

“Fuck, sweetheart– wish it was you getting on your knees for me later.” He whispered his filthy words in your ear with another buck of his hips. “Wanna feel your tight little throat around my cock as you choke on it.”

His confession made a nervousness intertwine itself with your blinding arousal. You turned around in his arms, your face nuzzled into the dip where his neck met his collarbone, “I-I’ve never done that before.” Your confession was barely a whisper, the words muffled into his skin.

His grip tightened around you, and you felt the way his body moved under your cheek, a comforting hand landed carefully at the back of your neck. His jaw and cheek bumped against the top of your head as he dipped down to your face and his breath changed like he was about to say something, but then was interrupted by a hollow knock on the trailer door.

“We’re ready for you on set in fifteen minutes, Mr. Miller,” a voice called.

With the knock the spell was broken. You untangled yourself from his embrace, a shy smile ghosting over your lips as you stepped away.

“You should eat.”

Again, you’d agreed to watch him film. Joel had convinced you on his way out the trailer door, his hand resting at the small of your back as he led you towards the set. It was a small shoot – only Joel and Cheryl, the cameraman, the sound guy, a couple people from VCA, Ronald, and you. In the time you’d worked for Joel, you couldn’t remember a set feeling this intimate (not that you usually stayed to watch– not unless he explicitly asked).

The only goal for the scene was to find out if Joel and Cheryl worked well together on camera – hence no specific storyline or roles they were supposed to act out. Joel was getting his dick sucked, but other than that they were free to take the scene whichever way they wanted.

The room buzzed with quiet conversation as the cameraman got the camera and film ready. Joel was already seated on the couch where the scene would take place. His legs were spread wide, his hard bulge on display as he leisurely smoked a cigarette. Cheryl had taken up the seat beside him, leaning her elbow on the back and resting her head in her hands. They were talking, but you couldn’t hear from where you stood in the corner. Every now and then Joel’s eyes would search for yours, meeting them for a moment as a small smile spread across his lips, before they would flick back to Cheryl, joining their conversation again.

A few minutes later, the cameraman gave the okay to start shooting, making the rest of the set settle down. Joel still smoked his cigarette, so you took it upon yourself to be a good assistant and walk over to him with an ashtray.

A smile spread across Joel’s face when he saw you approach. His arm came up to rest over the back of the couch, his body opening to you with curiosity. You gave him a small smile in return, presenting the ashtray to him with a teasing raise of your eyebrow.

“Just ‘nother drag, sweetheart,” he teased, placing his cigarette back between his lips.

“Nuh-uh,” you chuckled, stealing his cigarette from his mouth with two pinched fingers.

The rest of the smoke in his lungs came out in small chuckles, his hands gathering in his lap as he leaned slightly towards you, moony eyes watching you. He was about to say something before,

“Quiet on set,” the cameraman interrupted with a shout.

You wanted to do something. Cup his cheek, kiss him, anything to just touch him, but you couldn’t. You needed to keep it professional. Instead, you gave him another small smile before you walked back to your previous spot in the corner.

“And… action!”

With the shout of the cameraman, the film was rolling, and the shoot had started.

Leaning against the wall again, you crossed your arms over your chest as you watched Cheryl sink to her knees between Joel’s spread legs. On her lips she wore an innocent pout while her hands caressed his thighs.

“Wanna put my mouth on it,” she said in a sweet voice.

“Yeah, baby? What do you want in your pretty little mouth?” Joel’s voice was deep and coaxing, his hand cupping Cheryl’s chin where his thumb ghosted over her skin.

Cheryl tilted her face down slightly, eyes big and wide as she looked up at him through her lashes.

“Your cock, sir,” she pouted.

You still didn’t know much of the plot to the porno they were shooting, but it was clear that they were going in a specific direction. It wasn’t unusual for Joel to slip into a more dominant character in the pornos he played in, but this new element of innocence from his scene partner wasn’t something he often did.

“You want me to teach you how to suck cock like a proper whore, sweet girl?”

Sweet girl.

You watched how Cheryl’s head nodded in his palm, teeth catching on her bottom lip, and a wicked smile tugged at the corners of Joel’s mouth. It made you shift your weight, arms tightening around your body.

“Alright…” Joel’s thumb ghosted over her bottom lip, “Take my cock out,” he ordered, pulling his hand away.

Cheryl obediently did as he said, her hands messing with the buttons on his jeans. Joel wasn’t wearing anything underneath – it was easier that way, he’d told you earlier in his trailer. Cheryl gasped as Joel’s hard cock sprung free. Her eyes wide as she watched how his cock slapped against his lower stomach.

“’s big isn’t it, sweet girl?”

Again.

Your teeth caught on your bottom lip, pulling at the loose skin with a burning ache.

“So big, sir,” Cheryl agreed, nodding her head.

“Too big for your little mouth, sweetheart?” Joel teased, taking himself in his hand, pulling gentle strokes up and down.

Cheryl shook her head again, “No, sir! I can take it!”

Joel huffed out a laugh at that, his grin growing wider. “Yes, you can, slut.”

His degrading words pulled a moan from Cheryl, and not a second later her mouth was on him. Joel laughed again, another huffing chuckle leaving him as his heavy hand came to rest at the top of her head, guiding her down on him.

“That’s it, slut, suck that big cock– take it all the way down that whore throat,” he encouraged, head tipping back in pleasure. The wet sounds echoing through the room were obscene, pornographic. Sticky strings of spit clung to Cheryl’s chin and dripped down to her breasts where she’d tugged at the V of her neckline to expose them.

“Feels so good, my sweet girl– just like that,” Joel moaned, eyes squeezed shut with a look of pleasure coating his features like he’d ascended to heaven.

My sweet girl.

The room spun, and you pressed your back harder against the wall, like it would fall down over you if you didn’t press up against it. Or maybe it was you who would cave in.

That pet name. That fucking pet name.

You needed to step out if you wanted to breathe, your throat tightening up as your thoughts drifted; to this morning in your bed and then again in the shower, to the two of you in that motel bed, to Joel’s hand on your knee as he’d knelt in front of you by the pool in Pismo Beach. Burning tears pressed behind your eyelids. You couldn’t watch any more, couldn’t hear any more, you couldn’t.

As quietly as you could you stepped out of the set. Your eyes pinched together in a squint as the hot LA afternoon sun blazed down on you. The air hot and stuffy, but not as suffocating as you felt inside.

Why did you feel this way? Jealous of another woman?

Joel wasn’t your boyfriend… at least not in so many words, but after Pismo Beach and his confession, he felt like yours. Someone you can’t help but fall in love with. That’s what he’d told you.

You couldn’t keep your thoughts from spiraling. Fall in love with? How could he be in love with you? You’d only had sex twice, never been on a proper date. You didn’t know who he was outside work. His touch and his kisses felt good, but how could you know if it was more than that – more than just something physical. He’d never called you his girlfriend. Why did you have any right to be upset right now?

This was his job. You knew that before you got involved with him. It wasn’t a problem for you, you’d told him so in the job interview. You’d spoken the truth at the time, but now you weren’t so sure.

Numbed by your realization, you stepped back inside. The scene you were met with only affirmed your thoughts.

You couldn’t give him what he wanted.

They’d moved positions. Cheryl’s head hung off the armrest, perfect boobs bouncing beneath Joel as he fucked her throat. It was lewd, and dirty and plain vulgar. With every thrust of his hips Joel earned himself a quiet gag. Under him, her body was completely at his mercy. He pulled back every once in a while, to let her breath, before plunging his hard cock back down her throat. Ropes of bubbling spit escaped her mouth and ran down her face.

Joel was completely in control, using her throat purely for his own pleasure. Groans and moans spilled from his lips in between filthy praises and ‘good girl’’s. Cheryl’s body squirmed under him, her hand rubbing quickly at her clit under her dress, edging herself towards her orgasm.

This is what Joel wanted. Someone like Cheryl– someone who was confident and skilled, someone who knew what she was doing.

You watched Joel’s thrusts turn sloppy, and that now familiar pinch in his brow let you know he was about to bust his load. With a quick motion he jerked his cock back, taking his throbbing and sensitive cock in hand, fisting himself quickly. Cheryl gasped for air, before she withered with her orgasm.

Joel groaned louder than you’d ever heard him before, his eyes flicking up from Cheryl’s squirming body to find yours. A smile spread across his face then, and then he was spilling over his knuckles and painting Cheryl’s face with his release.

“Shit,” Joel panted, coming down. His hand squeezed the last few drops of his cum out of his cock and onto Cheryl’s tongue.

“Aaaand– cut,” the camera man yelled.

Joel dropped the act immediately, stepping away from a ruined Cheryl as his cock went soft in his hand.

“Shit,” Cheryl groaned, wiping some of the mix of spit and Joel’s cum from her face.

“You okay?” Joel asked, tender hands helping her sit upright.

Cheryl giggled sweetly, big smile blossoming over her features, “Okay? More than okay, Joel– fucking amazing.”

As the gentle lover you knew him to be, Joel helped Cheryl clean up her face after getting handed a towel, but not before assessing the picture he’d painted– which wasn’t much, not compared the cumshots he usually gave out.

“If I knew I’d be filmin’ today I wouldn’t have jerked of this morning,” he laughed, wiping her face.

It wasn’t funny.

part three -> here

i hope this was okay? and that you liked this! <3 as always feedback as a comment, in the tags, as an ask or reply is very much appreciated, and they make me super happy! <3

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller one shot #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #dom!joel miller #the last of us smut #tlou smut #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #inexperienced!reader #70s au #pedro pascal

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milaeth · 10 months

Text

୨୧┊ 𝐈𝐈. 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒. ( charles leclerc )

ꖛ ─ you’re reading part two ∿ part one ∿ part three

✧.* pairings ─ charles leclerc x fem! singer! reader

✧.* genre ─ social media au ⨾ fluff & chaotic

✧.* summary ─ in which your best friend George gets fed up with watching you and Charles secretly yearn for each other while claiming to be just friends. so, when you lose a bet to George, he takes control of your social media accounts for 24 hours, using the opportunity to help you make a move on your crush.

✧.* face claim ─ suki waterhouse

✧.* warnings ─ some suggestive jokes, other than that this is just as chaotic as the first part

✧.* mily’s thoughts ─ part three is coming soon! hope you enjoy mwah <3

˗ˏ ➶ IMESSAGE ➜ w/ charles <3 . ✧ ˚

y/n: hey charles i really don’t want to be a bother but i quickly wanted to apologize for the insta post that was made about us a few hours ago!

charles <3: Hey, don’t worry, you’re not a bother! :) And I don’t really care about the post.

y/n: wait

y/n: you don’t care?

charles <3: Nope, I thought the whole flirting thing (the comments etc) was just a joke between friends, yk. At first I was a little confused, to be honest, since we don't usually joke like that, but I figured it was just the way you interact with people you feel more comfortable with!

[ seen 1:29pm ]

˗ˏ ➶ IMESSAGE ➜ w/ princess george . ✧ ˚

y/n: i’m so scared

princess george: WHAT DID HE SAY

y/n: he thinks it was a flirty joke between friends

princess george: HUH? So I did all that painfully obvious flirting for nothing💀

y/n: AHA

y/n: SO YOU DID DO ALL THESE THINGS TO GET ME TO CONFESS TO CHARLES.

princess george: Someone had to do it! I'm sick of watching you guys literally be in love with the other and still claim to be "just friends" 🤓

y/n:🧍‍♀️

y/n: that isn’t the point now

y/n: the point is WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO SAY

princess george: YOU HAVENT REPLY YET??

y/n: NO I LEFT HIM ON READ BC I PANICKED IDK

princess george: i'm going to have to call carmen to give you some girly advice if you don't start getting bold💀

y/n: OKAYOKAY BUT WHAT SHOULD I SAY

y/n: HURRY UP HES BEEN ON SEEN FOR FIVE MINUTES NOW

princess george: IDK ASK GOOGLE

y/n: GEORGE WTF

princess george: DONT ‘GEORGE WTF’ ME! YOU KNOW I DONT WORK WELL UNDER PEER PRESSURE

y/n: you’re a racing driver💀

princess george: your point?

[ seen 1:37pm ]

princess george: hello???

[ seen 1:38pm ]

y/n: I ASKED GOOGLE LIKE YOU TOLD ME TO AND THEY DIDNT DO SHIT

y/n: they had the audacity to correct me too

princess george: 💀💀

[ seen 1:40pm ]

˗ˏ ➶ IMESSAGE ➜ w/ charles <3 . ✧ ˚

y/n: you think it was a joke?

charles <3: Well yeah

charles <3 I mean

charles <3: It couldn’t have been anything more

y/n: what if it was tho?

y/n: hypothetical ofc!!!!

charles <3: Well I honestly don’t know

charles <3: If we are speaking hypothetically, I think I would be flattered.

y/n: and if we aren’t speaking hypothetically?

charles <3: Then I would probably still feel flattered.

charles <3: Y/n? Hello?

y/n: SORRY MY PHONE FELL DOWN

charles <3: LMAO

charles <3: Does that mean those flirty jokes weren’t just jokes?

y/n: well.. to me, they’re not jokes, but i’m not the one who made them. i wasn’t supposed to tell you yet but i’m getting sick of george so idc

y/n: i lost a bet to him and had to hand over my main social media accounts for 24 hours, meaning all the comments/posts you saw from my main accounts were made by george😭

charles <3: That explains why I saw your private accounts constantly fight with your main accounts in random comment sections💀

y/n: yeah he was really messing with me

y/n: i’ve gotten lots of angry mails from my pr team

charles <3: I can imagine😭 It's only fair that you get back at him.

y/n: oh absolutely.

charles <3: Can I ask a question though?

y/n: sure!

charles <3: Is your newest single actually about me?

y/n: yes it is. i’m sorry you have to find out like this but i really like you, like a lot. i’ve liked you for a while now but i was too scared to talk to you about it because i thought you don’t feel the same.

charles <3: That’s not true

charles <3: I actually do feel the same, and I literally had the same dilemma!

y/n: WHAT

y/n: YOU ALSO LIKE ME??

charles <3: YES!! I really like you :)

y/n: SINCE WHEN

charles <3: Probably since the day I first met you

y/n: no way i thought you hated me back then💀

charles <3: No don’t worry I didn’t😭 My brother Arthur said I always have this certain look to myself when I meet new people. He said I tend to look a little “off” when I’m overwhelmed, so that was probably it lol

y/n: oh yeah, george said the same about you

charles <3: Aha very nice of him💀

charles <3: Btw I don’t want to make you uncomfortable by asking this, but what are we now? I’m just a little confused

y/n: how about we take it slow and start going on little dates? like trying this whole thing out and seeing if we can actually be more than friends.

charles <3: I had the same in mind :)

charles <3: And George still has control over your main accounts?

y/n: yep for the next 2-3 hours :’)

charles <3: alright, ready to get back at him?

y/n: ABSOLUTELY

[ seen 1:59pm ]

˗ˏ ➶ IMESSAGE ➜ w/ princess george . ✧ ˚

princess george: Y/N DID HE REPLY YET?

[ sent 1:43pm ]

princess george: Y/N?

princess charles: HELLOOOO

[ sent 1:44pm ]

princess george: CMON I CAN SEE YOURE ONLINE

[ sent 1:46pm ]

princess george: DONT BE SO CRUEL

princess george: PLEASEEE

princess george: I WANNA KNOW WHAT HE SAID

[ sent 1:50pm ]

princess george: UGH fine

princess george: Guess my finger slipped again🙄🙄🙄

[ sent 1:55pm ]

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, georgerussell63 and 8,379,158 others

yourusername save a horse, ride a char- COWBOY

tagged: charles_leclerc

view all 268,368 comments…

user375 HELP ME WHAT

user121 girl you gotta stop being horny on the internet😭

georgerussell63 Oh. My. God.😲😲 Y/n this isn’t your private account

user54 you’re acting very sus there mate

user488 well someone needs to get laid💀

user224 simp of the day🫵

pierregasly i can’t watch this

yourusername then look away🤷‍♀️😂

user865 you’re so relatable

user308 cowboy charles😍😍

urusername_alt🔒 YOU DID NOT

yourusername I did xx

urusername_alt🔒 DELETE THIS RN

yourusername Nopee

carlos55sainz I’m so confused

charles_leclerc my lap is free🤷🏻‍♂️🤷🏻‍♂️

yourusername WHAT

urusername_alt🔒 wait- fr?🤭🤭

landonorris pause. stop right there.

yourusername | 📍 paris, france

liked by senelagomez, carlos55sainz and 21,488,321 others

yourusername feels good to finally have this account back

view all 170,325 comments…

zendaya stunning as always✨

liked by yourusername

user965 mother is mothering🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

user233 does a stronger word than mother exist??

user355 @/charlesleclerc you better wife her up before i do

user212 there’s no way they’re actually together, now that she revealed that george was behind all those comments/posts

user593 i was NOT prepared

charles_leclerc come to monaco, we miss you

landonorris who’s we

yourusername @/landonorris stfu you salty bitch, you’re just jealous i didn’t visit you last year💀

charles_leclerc just added to their story !

∿ taglist ─ @81astri @ch3rryknots @cs55version @fdl305 @remuslupinsbtch @kissesandmartinis @teenagedreams-cl @headinthecloudssblog @mrsmaybank13 @glai1023-blog @luvrrish @hevburn @charlespear @bibissparkles @siovhanroy ( my taglist if you want to get tagged in my works )

don’t forget to like, comment & reblog (it’s very much appreciated <3).

#·˚ ༘ ☕️ — mily’s writings !#formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one fanfiction #formula one x reader #f1 driver imagines #f1 driver x reader #f1 driver x you #formula one x y/n #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x y/n

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lincolndjarin · 4 months

Text

fine art

javi gutierrez x moviestar!reader - installment #1 of sparrow's spectacles

main masterlist - other spectacles - kofi

summary : you were an up and coming actress, javi is your biggest fan, he'd do anything to have meet you.

word count : 3.9k

warnings, tags : dead dove do not eat, !! dark fic !! mdni 18+, noncon, stalker!javi, kidnapping, capture, stockholm syndrome, m&f masturbation, sex toys, briefly mentioned periods, exhibitionism, voyurism, so much internal thought processing regarding readers situation, briefly referenced suicide, reader is undescribed other than briefly being mentioned as young in her acting career, in my head she's late twenties, probs other tags i missed sorry. tldr: you have spent so much time with javi against your will that you unwillingly start fantasizing about him and give in to destructive urges in an attempt to escape him, everything is bad here.

a/n : is this stupid and probably bad? who knows, i have a terrible sense of self judgement lately so i'm just gonna post this and hope it's good. also can you tell that i blatantly stole the set from You LMAO. anyhow this is the first installment of my little 'horror' series. but it's less horror and more just odd little stories i wanted to write tbh

Desk, bed, lamp, television, door, chair.

On days where you’re feeling particularly bored you list the things you can see. Unfortunately for you, your surroundings rarely change. Of course you could change that, if you asked him for something he’d give it to you, anything you wanted. Unless of course it was something he thought you could hurt yourself with or contact the outside world with.

You didn’t often ask.

Whenever you can have a conversation with him he always says the same thing.

“If you stopped being so stubborn you might actually be happy.”

“I would do anything for you.” “Then let me out.” “Anything but that.”

“It’s not as terrible as you make it out to be. It isn’t an actual cage, it isn’t so bad.”

So you don’t talk to him unless you have to.

But some days you’re just so painfully, agonizingly, bored and you can’t help yourself. So you scream at him, or you pound on the unyielding plexiglass, or you hold your hand up against it, hoping he’ll touch the other side and you can briefly imagine yourself having physical contact with another human being.

Sometimes you’ll even play his games.

You’ll read the scripts he slides through the small square opening in the cage that can’t be more than a foot wide, and act out scenes with him simply because it gives you something to do and for fucks sake you’re desperate for something to do. It’s so easy to get caught up in him, if it wasn’t so easy you’d probably let yourself do it more often, thankfully, it’s so fucking scary. If you spend too much time in the box you’re worried that eventually you’ll forget that you aren’t a doll and you'll grow to like your box. So you do your damndest to maintain a wall between the two of you, but when that wall is glass it is destined to break eventually. So you scream and you fight until you get tired, and then you let the walls down as you rest, before returning to your struggle. And everytime you let the walls down they take longer to put back up.

At the end of the day it never matters how you treat him, he loves you all the same.

Even on days where you scream your throat raw and throw your furniture against the walls, if you ask him to get you takeout from your favorite restaurant, or watch a movie with you, he always will. You asked him about it once. Why didn't he just make you do what he wanted? Why didn’t he just make you obey? He had looked genuinely offended, as if he couldn’t believe you thought him capable of such a thing.

And he told you that he loved you.

More than anything.

That you were his most prized possession.

That he would never do anything to hurt you, it would be like if he were angry and he threw a priceless vase, the only person it would hurt is himself.

You had nodded as if he was making any sense and you’d turned back to the movie he’d picked out.

You were a vase.

You were a collectible.

A priceless, collectable. He kept you in perfect condition and never took you out of the box. Not even to play with you himself. A small, rather demented part of you, is starting to wish that he would. Of course you don’t want him to force himself upon you, you aren’t that far gone. (Yet.) But it’s been so long since you’ve touched another person. You would give your left arm just to be held. If your calendar serves you well, it’s been just over two years since you last saw someone who wasn’t Javi.

And Javi wouldn’t touch you.

Not ever. You were too perfect to be defiled in such a way. He would sometimes hold his hand against the glass when you held up your own, he even kissed you through it once. (Although it had been rather awkward and neither one of you ever talked about it again.) But he never touched you.

Sometimes you can’t help but wonder what would have happened if you’d met Javi in a social setting. He is rather handsome, and though you hate to admit it, when he isn’t leering he’s almost charming.

Almost.

Everyday you slip further into the fantasy where Javi does something to break up the monotony. Is that his goal? To make you so desperate for human connection that you eventually snap and beg him to touch you? You shudder as you wonder how long that would take. After the first year you stopped wondering what would happen when he got bored of you. You know deep down that that will never happen. If anything his devotion for you only continues to grow with each passing day. If it’s possible he probably loves you more now then he did at the start of your stay here. Despite everything he takes care of you, in his own strange sort of way.

Like how he tracks your cycle, always making sure you have anything you need on those days. Sometimes he even knows it’s starting before you do, he’ll bring you baskets with blankets and candy and any other little trinket or gift he saw that made him think of you.

Jewelry, little plush toys, and books. Anything to try and make you feel anything other than the misery that constantly loomed over you as you waited for his next visit. He never goes more than a few days without seeing you and he always apologizes when he does. He returns with your favorite shampoo or lotion to make it up to you, but it never really changes how you feel about him. It’s nice to fantasize a world in which you enjoy your only source of company but you’re careful to never let that fantasy bleed into reality.

If he were actually your partner you’d have locked him down ages ago. A part of you knows that he doesn’t want that kind of relationship with you though. He doesn’t want a girlfriend, you’re much more than that. You’re more like a goddess in a cage to him than an actual human being. A beloved pet bird. It’s clear he feels something more than simple love for you. It’s a devotion, a conscious effort to worship you.

You are to be kept in pristine condition.

Of course that doesn’t mean he can’t look.

Two and a half years.

That’s how long it took for the looking to escalate into something more. You were watching a movie.

50 First Dates

You had picked it out, Javi liked action movies but would never complain when you wanted to watch a rom-com. You were on your bed, curled up under the blankets in a hoodie and sweatpants. You haven’t worn makeup since he took you, you rarely brushed your hair, you never put much thought into your appearance, and Javi wouldn’t give you a mirror.

You had one, a long time ago. Within the first week you’d smashed it, threatening to slit your own throat if he didn’t let you out. All that resulted in was you no longer being allowed to have breakables. Plastic cutlery and paper plates were wordlessly passed to you from that point forward.

You had been watching in silence, he sat on the couch outside the cage like he always did and it wasn’t until you heard a shuddering groan that you turned around to see him kneeling beside the cage, one hand pressed up against the glass, steadying himself, the other wrapped around his cock.

You were frozen in place.

What are you supposed to do in that situation?

You watched, slack jawed as he took his time. His gaze made you feel naked, like he could see through the layers of blankets and baggy clothing.

He had looked you in the eye when he finished. Briefly staring wide eyed before his eyes squeezed shut and with a long, drawn out moan and a strained cry of your name. His cum painted the glass and before you could form any sort of response he was already stuffing himself back into his pants and standing. You want to say something, anything. Something to hold him accountable for what he just did, but you can’t think of anything, and he’s already leaving.

Before you can even blink he’s gone, without so much as a glance in your direction. And you’re left alone, in the lamp light, unable to escape the sight of his filth on the glass. Covering your head with a blanket as you waited for it to be late enough for the power to cut out and leave you in a safe, and comfortable darkness.

A part of you hoped that the white speckles would be gone when you woke up but you weren’t that lucky.

You faced away from that wall, with your head buried in a book until you looked at the clock and knew it was almost time to face him again. When he returned he had an aura of shame around himself, his arms were full of grocery bags and his eyes were red rimmed and teary.

“I’m so sorry- I just- I love you so much, I don’t know what came over me.” If this was a normal relationship and the two of you had maybe gotten into an argument or something you would have forgiven him. After all he looked genuinely remorseful as he stared at you, going through the bags before setting down several takeout containers with labels you recognized. He had gone out and gotten all your favorites. Your favorite fast food place, as well as a high end chinese restaurant you loved for special occasions, and a clear plastic case with a slice of your favorite flavored cake from a small bakery near your apartment that you frequented. (You’d never asked him to get you anything from there before, you’d never even mentioned the place to him.)

Through his mumbled apologies he set down your favorite bubble tea flavor and a water bottle.

He had passed everything to you through the opening in the cage with trembling hands as he sniffled. Once you had everything he sprayed the drying remnants of his release with Windex, pulling several paper towels off the roll and wiping it until it was as if it never happened. By the time he was finished his cheeks were red and big tears rolled down his face.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Before you can stop yourself you’re comforting him, as if he’s the victim in this situation.

“It’s not okay, I don’t want you to think that that’s why you’re here.” He mumbles sadly, letting his forehead hit the glass. Through your disgust for your own words you sense something else.

Opportunity.

The only chance you’re going to get for escape involves him unlocking the door. Something he hasn’t done since he put you in here in the first place. You’ve tried in the past. Not often, there weren’t very many chances, you had everything you needed here, running water and a bathroom, any other sustenance was provided by him through the little opening. There was so rarely an opportunity, and when there were he always anticipated your plans before you got to put them into motion. But you’ve never tried deception. You think you would have, considering you’re an actress but it had never crossed your mind until just now. You can’t half ass this though. If you decide to do this you will get one chance to do it right.

Go big or go home.

“No really, it’s okay. It’s sort of… flattering.” His face drops the second you say it and regret starts creeping in. You’re going to die here. He’s going to keep you here until the day you die and no one will ever know what happened to you. A young starlight, taken out in her prime.

“It’s not, it’s disgusting.” He tosses the paper towels away, sniffling to himself as he stands with his hands clasped in front of him, swaying anxiously back and forth. You take a seat on your bed across from him, fighting the urge to put your hand on the glass. You don’t want to lay it on too thick, he’ll see right through that.

“It’s fine, it’s- it’s natural.” You’re struggling to find the right words that make it feel real. At one point you were a rather talented actress but you’re out of practice. “Seriously. Especially from you. It’s really sweet.” Fuck, are you doing too much?

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he chews his lip as he stares at you, you can tell he’s skeptical. He should be. You so rarely speak to him and when you do it’s never to be kind.

“Actions speak louder than words.”

Someone said that in a movie Javi picked, you had sat and let him read the scene to you afterwards.

He wants an actress, you can give him that. You can perform, as long as that’s all it is. If it’s a performance you can keep your wall up. You stumble off the bed, your legs feeling like jelly as you pull open the drawer on your nightstand.

This plan feels stupider by the minute but you need to commit.

He didn’t gift you sex toys the way he did with other little things to make you happier. But they were always just sort of there. In their original packaging, shoved in your nightstand drawer with a few batteries he’d left as well, they’d been here when you woke up in the cage. You doubt you’ll be able to relax enough to do this without a little help, and you have to be convincing. If you aren’t believable he’s unlikely to trust you in the future. If you fuck this up now you’ll never get another chance.

It’s a pale pink rabbit. You’d probably never buy something like it for yourself, it looks… expensive. The silicone is smooth against your fingers as you rip open the packaging, twisting the base open to pop in two batteries. Rushing in an attempt to not lose your nerve. When you gather your courage you risk a glance up at him, just fast enough to watch his tongue dart out and wet his lips.

So he does want this.

Good.

Pressing the button on the toy makes it buzz to life.

Okay.

This isn’t so bad. It’s just masturbating, if you do this for him you can take advantage of the obvious attraction he has for you. Even if it doesn’t work immediately, eventually this ends with him letting you out, or at the very least letting himself in, which is all you need.

So you get back into bed, and you lean on a stack of pillows before really focusing on him.

And you ask him the question he didn’t bother to ask you.

“Is this okay?” You hope the trembling in your voice comes off as endearing.

His throat bobs as he nods. Maybe he doesn’t mind that you’ve been laying it on a little thick. Maybe you’ve denied him your affections for so long that he doesn’t want to risk rejecting any advance from you. No matter how out of the blue it seems/.

You push your sweats down to your ankles before kicking them off the bed. No time for embarrassment or regret now, if he senses hesitation none of this will be worth it. He’s moved to be sitting on the couch directly outside the cage now. His knees pressed together as he sits with his hands in his lap, looking almost comically polite.

No sense putting off the inevitable.

It’s been a while, there’s a camera in the corner of the cage so you don’t masturbate often, and when you do it’s late at night, once the lights are off and you can hide under your blanket. You can’t do that now though, that would defeat the purpose.

You leave the toy off as you shove it down the front of your panties. Pressing the soft head of it against your slit, finding it surprisingly easy to tease your entrance with it.

Are you wet?

It’s been a while, that’s why.

Javi certainly hasn’t wasted any time. If he were sitting any closer he’d be fogging up the glass, his hand is shoved down his pants, his face already flushed red. His usual rigid posture is lost as he leans back into the couch cushions, refusing to tear his eyes off of you. Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth you push the toy into you, holding back a gasp as you swallow. At least it feels sort of good. Good enough to make you wish you’d swallowed your pride and used this before today.

Your body moves instinctually as your free hand reaches forward to push your panties down and turn the vibe on in one motion, the silicone attachment pressing against your clit as you press the toy deeper into your pussy. It’s a little too easy to relax suddenly. Javi now slowly strokes himself, his cock in his hand, looking painfully hard as he squeezes the base of his shaft, almost as if he’s scared of blowing his load too soon.

Good.

The less time it takes the better.

At least that’s what you tell yourself as you angle the toy, letting the tip of it brush against your g-spot and drawing an authentic moan from you. Fighting the urge to cover your mouth in surprise, you repeat the motion. The combination of sensations making your toes curl and your back arch into the mattress.

“Fuck-” Your voice catches in your throat, your fingers twitch against the button to turn the vibrations up a level.

Once you find your rhythm it’s easy to forget about the nerves and what’s at stake. It’s easy to get lost in the sensation and the sight of Javi shuddering as he gasps. It’s easy to focus on the attractive parts of him for a brief moment, to make things easier. And it’s easy to wonder if his cock would feel better than the toy that hums and makes your body tense up deliciously.

It’s actually terrifying how easy it is.

It’s enough to make you horrified for just a split second. He wasn’t lying when he said you could be happy if you stopped fighting. Twisted into the pleasure you’re feeling is something else. Relief. Relief for the peace you find when you stop fighting him. You could feel this good all the time if you wanted, you and Javi could have your favorite food for dinner, you could watch your favorite movies, and act out your favorite scenes.

You could feel good.

You could have nights like these where you watch him jerk off his pretty, thick cock and know that someone loves you enough to take care of you like this. You could let him buy you pretty things and toys that make you feel so so so good.

And that thought terrifies you.

If you stayed in this cage you would eventually become entirely complacent.

It might not be tomorrow, or next week, or next year, but eventually.

You will be happy to flutter about your cage once you’ve forgotten how to fly.

His pretty little bird.

It’s your orgasm that snaps you out of that living nightmare. You hadn’t even realized you’d still been fucking the toy, pleasuring yourself to that little daydream. This wasn’t a good idea and you shouldn’t have done it but it’s too late for that now especially when you’re groaning out his name as you remove the still buzzing toy, now slick with your wetness. Javi’s eyes are wide as he clearly can’t hold back any longer as he dirties his shirt and pants with his own release.

As you quickly reach for the toy, turning it off, you pull your panties up in a hurry. Maybe you should push your luck and ask him to come into the cage now. A sense of dread is settling in your stomach as you realize that you can’t be here much longer, who knows how quickly you’ll crumble if you keep letting yourself do this. It’s best to make this a swift process where you don’t have any more time to sink into the hell that is acceptance of these four glass walls.

You’re about to do it. About to tell him that he should join you, that it would feel better for the both of you if he was in the cage as well but you don’t get a chance to as he zips his pants back up.

“Go to bed, when you’re asleep I’m gonna leave you a gift.” He stands abruptly, giving you a reassuring smile before pressing his hand up to the glass. You don’t hesitate to crawl up the length of the bed and press your own to his, it’s brief but you can feel the connection here.

This is just the beginning.

After today you’ll put more effort in. You’ll make it happen and you’ll make it happen fast. You can put the time and effort in, it’s not like you have anything better to do. You’ll convince him that it’s real before you lose yourself entirely and when the day finally comes where he opens the door you won’t waste the opportunity.

You’ll leave your room.

You can figure out the logistics of it later but for now you take the sleeping pill he slides through the opening every night he visits. You don’t usually take it but you need sleep and this will be easier if he thinks you’re compliant. With a sip of your drink the little pill goes down and your eyes close.

And you dream that you’re a bird, flying through a blue sky.

You sleep better than you ever have before in the cage.

Until you wake, the lamp being on is the only indicator you have that it’s daytime. Your hair stands on end as you sit up. He was here. Things have been moved, little things, noticeable things. Your empty drink is tossed in the bin and it smells of cleaning supplies. He doesn’t ever come inside the cage, that goes against everything he tells you. Your head is spinning as you try to figure out what’s different. How long were you out? The pills have never made you feel this fuzzy before on the rare occasions that you’ve taken them, you do your best to focus but it’s difficult when everything’s so muddled. So you do the one thing you know will clear your head and you list the things you see.

Desk, bed, lamp, television, chair.

Something’s wrong, different.

He said he was going to give you a gift. What the fuck did he do? Did he leave it in here? Was it too big to fit through the opening? Is that why he came into the cage?

You don’t catch it immediately, but there is a note taped to the inside of the glass.

I knew you’d learn to be happy : )

See you tonight.

Love, Javi

You look back around the room, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Desk, bed, lamp, television, chair.

Oh.

i no longer have a tag list, follow @lincolndjarinnotifs for updates on my writing!!

#lincolndjarin #javi gutierrez #javi g x reader #javi gutierrez x reader #javi g x you #javier gutierrez #javi g fanfiction #pedro pascal #dead dove do not eat #tw noncon

157 notes · View notes

tteokdoroki · 1 year

Note

aali………please please tell us exactly what Rin said about Isagi not being able to fuck that had Egoist Yoichi baby boy fuck reader right in front of Rin 😭 i KNEED to know I must know babes or I’ll go insane

*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— lost in the lights, out of my mind + yoichi isagi, rin itoshi.

૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — rin itoshi has a bad habit of dishing out what he can't take and a locker room fight with his rival, yoichi isagi, leaves him in the most vulnerable place he'll ever be in. all because of his little unrequited crush on you.

⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! heavy!smut, porn with some kind of plot, characters aged up to 20s, established relationships (with isagi), unrequited love (rin lmao), some crushing, manipulaton, reverse cuckholding (?), voyuerism, unprotected s!ex, clothed s!ex, fingering (f!receiving), finger sucking, nipple play, body worship, dry humping, multiple orgasms, male masturbation, overstimulation, edging, orgasm control, aftercare, light!degradation, light!dacryphilia, light!sub/dom dynamics, sort of a threesome, creampies, psychologically tormenting rin lmao!!! pro player!yoichi isagi, pro player!rin itoshi, fem!reader - not beta read !

⭑ words — 8.5K.

⭑ notes — happy birthday tew me!! this is my gift to you all, i feel like its such a tradition for me to post something on my bday like i have for the last three years so here you are!! anon, i am so sorry this took so long, i hope you like this... i lost my mind writing it but it was sososo much fun!! enjoy my loves <3 m.list / fic that this refers to (you dont need to read it to understand!) ✩

if there’s one thing rin hates more than anything, it’s losing. after a sour defeat, three goals to a frustrating two, emotions are running high and the locker room fills with an atmosphere so tense even a butcher's knife couldn’t cut through it. it suffocates the boys as they flood into the room, defeatedtly shoving their cleats and water bottles into their cubbyholes — their breathing ragged and muscles aching.

the silence is shattered by a vicious snarl from blue lock’s main star, yoichi isagi, as he walks in last and heads straight for his rival. “way to fucking go, rin! your stupid little act just cost us the entire game.” the striker bares his fangs, frothing like a rabid dog. “you happy now?”

“oh fuck you, isagi. were all your shots supposed to be that half-assed? or was that just a weak attempt to impress your little girlfriend up in the stands.” rin fires back, equally as riled up, throwing his sweat soaked shirt into his designated cubby for this game.

the rest of the team knows not to intervene when two of their best players go head to head, slowly retreating to the showers and changing out of their kit. rin is too highly strung, everything is his way or the highway and everyone is beneath him. isagi is hot headed, switches up on you faster than you can say your own name — and only gets worse if you mention his girlfriend during a fight.

for a moment, the dark haired striker’s face falls and his deep blue eyes cloud with something rin itoshi only ever sees on the pitch. but isagi quickly recovers, offering the other player a tight lipped smile.

“let’s keep her out of this, yeah?”

that only makes rin want to double down.

his relationship with isagi is complex — he’s better than the guy in every way he knows is possible, and yet he envies him. no matter what rin does, his fellow player will always have some kind of leverage over him. whether it be sae’s approval, ego’s favouritism, you. the history between the three of you is even more confusing and flustering, and to this day, rin still doesn’t know who he wants or hates more. jealousy reaches its boiling point at the forefront of his mind, it’s perplexing and he hates the way it makes him feel — like he’s out of the loop, out of control and it only makes rin want to lash out at isagi more.

so he does.

he pokes and prods at isagi, twists at the parts of him that really set him off because he has no other way to cope and no other outlet for his build up of emotions.

“she must be embarrassed,” rin drawls as if he’s enjoying taunting his teammate, though his face shows no signs of it. “to have a boyfriend who can’t even play soccer without looking luke-warm or mediocre. this is your job. your life. and yet, you’re still not getting it. you’re nowhere near being on the same level as me.”

isagi grits his teeth. “i’m warning you, rin. quit while you’re ahead.”

but he can’t, he won’t. not until he makes isagi hurt the same way he does. for losing this match, for losing control.

“if soccer is your life and you’re this bad at it, then i wonder what else you suck at,” the younger itoshi brother adds coldly with the petulance of a child still learning how to navigate how he feels. standing up to his full height, rin smirks as if he’s finally put his enemy into place. he lets his emotions spill into every word he says until they weigh down his tongue and all he can spit out are phrases of malice. “being a good boyfriend? fucking her right?”

satisfaction curls around rin’s beating heart as isagi looks to him; wide eyed and bewildered. there’s nothing like reminding someone where they belong in the food chain. beneath rin itoshi and never above. isagi flounders like a fish before him, searching for words of defence that never come and when rin thinks that the shorter of the two might finally say something — the door to the locker room creaks open and in comes…

you.

if there’s another thing that rin hates, it’s how weak you make him feel — especially when he knows that you’re out of reach. not his to touch. to hold. to keep. you can’t be the reason he feels so open an exposed, like a patient on an examiners table, because he can’t have feelings for you anymore, because you belong to isagi. your heart beats for him and that makes rin sick.

he wants to hate you, even though you’re sweet and kind and understanding. even though you step into the room wearing isagi’s number with doe eyes that glisten underneath the white artificial light. even though your voice fills him with warmth when you call out for your boyfriend (not him) and say. “yoichi, is everything okay?” in that mawkish tone that sends shivers down the length of rin’s spine.

and like he’s been snapped out of a trance, isagi looks away from rin’s face and searches for comfort in your own — his body instinctively gravitating towards you for affection. “yeah precious, what are you doing here?” he grins at you like he wasn’t just about to rip rin’s throat out with his teeth. “thought i was meeting you outside.”

“yeah but…some of the other boys and your manager got worried that something was happening between you and rin, so i came to check on you…i hope that’s okay?” you’re so good, well behaved and it’s all for isagi. it makes rin want to scream, rip his hair out, hurt something but he can’t. he won’t because he’s never been good at feelings. he has his older brother to thank for that.

rin watches the interaction between you both like he’s on the outside looking in. isagi treats you like you’re the world encompassed into one being. yet, there’s a glint swirling in those ocean eyes rin despises so much. “more than okay, baby…actually, i think you might be able to help us make up.” isagi hums, twirling you in his arms until your back is to his chest and you’re facing rin now too.

“…i can?” regrettably, your interest is piqued. isagi has that look in his eye, the one that he gets when he’s scheming and he has all the cards in his hands. except this time, he’s not looking at you.

rin itoshi seems to be the target of your boyfriend’s games tonight — and you, a mere chess piece on the board.

“mhm…” yoichi’s voice drops, brushing over the patch in your brain that controls your pleasure. you know that voice, you’ve heard it a million times before…during showers, early in the morning, right after games. the way he speaks switches up whenever isagi wants you. “you see, pretty girl, rinnie over here—“ the striker juts his chin out in the direction of his rival, using the sweet little nickname he knows you have for him. “doesn’t think i can be a good boyfriend, thinks i’m embarrassing, thinks i can’t fuck. would you say any of those statements are true?”

you frown, lips drawn into pout and brows creased where they meet in the centre. “n-no! of course not.”

and rin thinks he might die there and then, with you looking at him like you’re disappointed in his opinion.

for as long as he’s known you, you’ve never cared about the feud between himself and your partner but this particular comment seems to bother you. upset you. and as much as he pretends to be indifferent towards you, the last thing rin itoshi wants to do is hurt your feelings. he’s never quite known what it’s like to care for someone — aside from sae, pre-spain. so for him to consider your feelings with every interaction you have is weird, at least for him. you’re a baffling enigma to rin, he finds himself drawn to you like a moth to a candle flame and finds comfort in your sugary conversation and polite laughter.

you seemed to like rin, for all his awkwardness and lack of charm. you had once called him cute despite his rough exterior and cold nature — leading him to believe that he could maybe try a little harder for you, be with you. that was, at least, until isagi came along and swept you off your feet with boyish smiles and rose tinted cheeks.

isagi could do with you what rin couldn’t do for himself.

be open with his admiration for you.

for a second, you cut the connection between rin’s aquamarine eyes and your own to glance back up at your boyfriend.

“we should prove him wrong, then.”

“but rinnie— i mean, rin,” you correct yourself when isagi tightens his grip on you as you try to diffuse the situation as best you can. “he wouldn’t… he doesn’t care about stuff like that. i know you’re a good boyfriend. isn’t that all that matters?” but in a twisted sort of way, you like that he’s a little pissed off, that rin is there watching you all loved up on each other too.

you feel his excitement press into your behind, arm wrapping around your tummy this time. “you’re all that matters to me,” isagi affirms because it’s true. he shouldn’t really care what rin thinks, but he left his rationality on the pitch. he’s pissed off and he lost and all he can think about is fucking you up and proving his point. soothing his ego. his flirtatious voice tickles the shell of your ear and sends a strong current of electricity straight down to your centre. “but baby, i wanna fuck you. don’t you want him to watch? help me prove that i’m so fucking good to you?”

he just can’t let it go, not this time.

is it because he thinks rin’s words are true? that he’s not good enough for you? that you might even deserve better than a man that puts his heart and trust into soccer?

yoichi loves you so much he think he might rip stars from the sky, and maybe the the sun if you’d asked him to. he’s so good to you, he knows that. you know it too, but he wants to prove it.

have the one up on rin just this once.

you give a slight nod of your head because maybe you’re just as much of an egoist as isagi. you don’t want him to doubt himself, he’s the best in japan. in the world. at soccer, at loving you too. he deserves to show off that much. so you agree, hesitantly, “but, yoichi… rin is still…” you say. not that you care, you’ve partially forgotten that itoshi still exists — isagi’s loving touch as he feels you up from over your jersey provides a perfect distraction.

he’s always like this with you, makes you feel like you’re the only two people in the room.

“don’t worry precious. he’ll look but he won’t touch, unless he asks and you say yes. right, rinnie?”

it’s the first time in minutes that either of you finally acknowledge rin. the stretching silence filled with ragged breathing and the rustling of clothing as rin watches you lose yourself to lust. to isagi.

“right.” he scoffs like he doesn’t care, barely able to tear his eyes away from your slither of skin revealed as you pull up your jersey to give isagi better access.

“spread your legs baby, lemme see that pretty pussy. wanna show her off.” isagi hums in satisfaction but he doesn’t push, letting you lead. “you want it any way, precious? tell me what you need, i’ll give it to you.” his hands run down to your soft tummy, resting just above the hem of your boy shorts while he grinds into you from behind. “just wanna make you feel good.”

choices, choices.

the ghost of yoichi’s touch along your skin, a thumb on your faint adam’s apple, then over your nipple — it makes saliva pool heavily on your tongue and your eyelashes flutter. “w-what do you think, rinnie?” you gasp, lifting your head to face him.

the younger itoshi swallows thickly. “fingers.” he says without hesitation. “you gotta prep her first, idiot.”

“still so rude, rin,” your boyfriend tuts mockingly. “c’mere. get ‘em nice and wet for her.” isagi points to his mouth — gesturing for his rival to open up for his fingers.

“fuck off, isagi. i-i’m not— you’re not going anywhere near me.”

“oh come on, you’re the one that wanted to prep her. my girl can take it with or without.” isagi presses, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a cocky smirk. “this was your decision, remember?”

the mere thought of doing anything remotely sexual with yoichi has the fortress of rin itoshi’s mind crumbling, starting with it’s foundation. he’s not disgusted by the idea, no, but he fears letting his mask slip. “if you’re not willing to take care of her properly, then you’re just proving my point. you’re half-hearted. lukewarm. you don’t care to fuck her proper.” rin scoffs, ignoring the shake in his voice.

“please, rinnie,” you hiccup. “he won’t touch me if you don’t…p-play along.”

but when it’s you, rin can’t ever seem to say no to you.

you’re like a siren calling out to him to drown himself in all that he desires — your saccharine and salacious strings of words setting his insides alight with wanton. begrudgingly, rin strides towards you both and grabs your boyfriend’s wrist with flaming cheeks, heart hammering in his chest so hard he’s afraid you might hear it and think him weak.

the gentle part of his lips encircle two of isagi’s fingers and is tongue, once tucked away behind rows of brilliant white teeth, breaks free from its barrier to roll over the slender digits — glazing them in a of spit. rin feels degraded, it pours through him in the same thickness as his blood and replaces all the oxygen in his lungs. but then you look at rin like you want him, dainty gaze honed in on the way his tongue weaves between your boyfriend’s fingers and soaks them in his claim. he can’t help but grow more confident in the action.

but then yoichi reminds you both of his presence, thrusting into rin’s obedient mouth until his gags and his tropical ocean eyes blow wide in shock at the sound. isagi’s own blue pair drown in mirth.

“satisfied?” rin let’s your boyfriend go with a wet smack of his lips, rasping his words out as he regains his breath.

“not really, but she can help with that.” isagi sounds like he adores you, plunging his spit slicked fingers past your swell of your plump lips so you can get them even wetter for him. you seem eager, sucking on them as if you’re chasing the younger itoshi sibling’s flavour and the visuals make his cock twitch behind his elasticated shorts as he pictures you mouthing at the ache between his legs.

once isagi is truly satisfied, he pulls out of your mouth and pats your cheek lovingly. “did such a good job, precious. i’m gonna touch you now, okay?” he doesn’t wait for you to respond since you’re too delirious, giggling on trickles of ecstasy from being pampered in your lover’s hold. his hand slips in between your plush thighs and underneath your clothes easily, yoichi dragging a single digit along the length of your puffy folds to get a feel for just how messy you are. you’re dripping with sweet juices, the scent of you intoxicating and potent to both boys as isagi eases the finger past your clenching hole experimentally.

you hiccup and tremble, your head rolling back against his shoulder the more his thickness presses into you and stretches you out for later. rin can see just how much you make isagi’s skin shine with your wetness, clear strings of it oozing down your thighs and into the seat of his rival’s palm — all this from being barely touched? from watching rin suck on your boyfriend’s fingers so pathetically? you’ve barely been touched as it is.

it only makes the throb at rin’s core that much more painful.

“don’t you even think about touching yourself to this. you’re lucky enough to even be watching her,” blue lock’s shining star grunts out to rin possessively, his voice laden with a lust that scratches at his throat. you whine out for more, hips jutting downwards to chase more of isagi and his attention switches back to you. “sorry for the wait, precious. there we go, is this alright? is this how you want it?” his softness has you melting like butter in a pan, isagi easing a second finger alongside the first before he curls them to bare down harshly on your g-spot.

the moan that escapes you is a far cry from your angelic nature in rin’s eyes, reminding him that isagi’s the one who cast you out of heaven. “m-more yoichi,” you squirm impatiently, back arching away from the striker’s chest as he used his free hand to toy with yours. “faster, c’mon—!”

“alright baby, relax. we’ll do whatever you want.” isagi moans back desperately, as if your pleasure is his pleasure. he changes the angle of his hand so that the back of it is facing rin, creating the visual of him cupping your sweltering, glistening pussy. you drool into the seat of his palm while he works you open, stroking your velvet and sopping insides like the tide lapping at the shoreline to indulge you and build the pressure that bubbles just under your naval. “oh, you like that? want me to rub your clit too? just like that precious,”

the rough pad of his thumb draws signatures of love against your budding clit as your arousal pearls on it it. every push and pull of isagi’s fingers have you a syrupy mess, glinting under the artificial lights and only drawing rin’s eager gaze to the treasure between your thighs. when he looks to your face all he sees is your insatiable appetite and dire need to run after the high your boyfriend plans to give you.

rin’s tongue darts out to wet the crack on his lips and he attempts to swallow the saliva that coats his tongue and floods his mouth — making it difficult for him to breathe. and if he does, manage to breathe in, the scent of you is intoxicating and fills rin with a level of desire his body can’t even handle. shame brews below the surface level of his skin, intertwined with the blood cells that surge through his veins and right to the tip of his shaft.

he flinches as it pulses to life inside his briefs, pathetically wet from how wet you sound.

“listen to that, fuck,” isagi groans, his lashes fluttering against the side of your face the deeper he plunges two fingers into you. “cunt sounds so pretty baby. sucking me in like that, s’like you never wanna let me go.”

the way isagi touches you is intoxicating — casting a dark veil over every thought that dares to cross your mind and clouding your better judgement. with him it’s easy to be this vulnerable and allow yourself to crumble to pieces in front of the hawk-like gaze of someone you know all too well. you find yourself not caring about the way rin watches you, pools of tropical ocean eyes dropping from your eyes to your pulsing sex where your boyfriend pinches and toys with your folds to get you wetter and wetter.

you’re fucking enjoying this. isagi knows it. rin knows it — the three of you trapped under the spell and vulgar scent of sex that mingles with the air you breathe in. you hardly feel bad for teasing the poor itoshi baby like this, finding the shaky mewls and squeals that you usually save for your boyfriend are a little louder than usual — spiking even higher when blue lock’s star egoist pulls back the hood of your clit to maximise your sensitivity and receptiveness to his touch, rubbing your juices into the little nub.

“tell him how good it feels.” yoichi is so loving but oh so condescending, commanding the will of your body as he curls his fingers just right to brush over the spongy spot inside of you to make you see the gates of heaven.

your pretty pussy gushes in response before you can, milky white running down isagi’s forearm as it gathers in the seat of his palm. you’re desperate to speak, but your mouth feels as if it’s been stuffed with cotton and your words are replaced by shaky and choked moans. between being finger fucked to the brink verge of collapse and watching rin try to grind against his boxers for friction — you don’t know how your boyfriend expects you to form a cohesive thought, let alone speak.

still, you manage to stutter out some kind of praise to him. “oh god, f-fuck, yoichi!”

when isagi hits your g-spot, you spasm so hard you think you might die and at the same time, rin’s needy whimper echoes around the locker room as if to taunt him. “she’s close,” rin bleats, the pain in his cock becoming too much to bare as he fumbles over the front of his shorts to reprehensibly relieve himself. “aren’t you gonna make her cum?”

the question is meant with no malice or harm — more innocent than rin allows himself to appear and isagi quickly picks up on it, licking a hot stripe up from the base of your neck to just behind your ear. “you can always tell when my precious girl is close,” he scissors his fingers along your insides, clear strings of your arousal keeping him tied to you. “she clenches so fucking tight around me, like she wants to make me a mess and claim me. keep me all to yourself, right precious?” he coos to you slyly, stroking you into the shape of him and flicking at your clit — arousal gathering copiously between your pussy lips. “you wanna cum so bad, don’t you.”

“y-yes!” you nearly scream, legs buckling beneath isagi’s ministrations, pumping in and out of your velvet walls with newfound motivation.

pleasure grows inside of you bit by bit, as if isagi has laid the foundation for bricks of pleasure to stack up high and the fact that rin itoshi is watching you just cements it all together. “make yourself useful, and hold her up.” he instructs, lazily sucking marks into your skin. “so selfish, rin. just like always. getting yourself off while my precious girl’s a shaky mess. you could have been helping all this time.”

a smile that could rival the devil’s tugs at your boyfriend’s wet lips when rin staggers forward to hold you up in the comfort of his arms. the path to what he wants has always been clear and isagi plays on that like it’s a part of the game you all play — knowing that rin would never give up the chance to hold you this close. you can feel the outline of his bulging cock against your tummy, the thought of it grinding inside you alongside isagi’s fingers doing nothing to sedate the desire coursing through you. your selfish need to cum.

blood rushes through rin’s ears at he way you cling onto him life a lifeline. you might be creaming on yoichi’s thick fingers, letting them stretch you out in preparation for his even thicker dick, but right now — you need rin to ground you and keep you back down on earth.

“can’t,” you whine over the lewd slushy sounds reverberating from between your thighs, and bat your eyelashes up at the younger itoshi — pride internally rumbling in your chest as the black abyss of his pupils swallows his pretty green eyes. “can't hold it, ‘ichi.” there’s nothing greater to you than humbling someone like rin itoshi. he forgets that while you follow whatever pleasure is given to you, you’ll always be loyal to yoichi isagi. hearing you moan his name only shatters rin’s confidence.

“let go for me, baby. cum all over me like the good girl i know you can be,” a deep groan takes hold in isagi’s chest, roots intertwining with his lungs and his very being. much like a sturdy tree. his thumb goes back to signing his name over it, gaze honing in between the sinful movement beneath your clothes. “get on your knees, rin. see how i fuck her nice and good.”

doing as he’s told, rin bites back his humiliation and sinks to his knees before you — keening into your fingers as they move up to grip his broad shoulders and your nails dig into his milky flesh hidden by his kit. from here, gets a front row seat to your gushing sex and how it soils the tiny threads of your boy shorts stuffed between your fattened pussy lips.

sex crazed hormones drift into the air, rattling about and colliding with kinetic energy as isagi picks up the pace — the seat of his palm now grinding against your clit, rubbing you raw and relentlessly. he bites down on your pulse point, and that’s really all it takes to throw you over the ledge. the stacks of ecstasy that had been building within the depths of your soul finally come crumbling down and your release shoots out of you, slapping to the floor in a crude manner.

“o-oh! ‘m c-cumming!” you cry out, feeling evidence of your orgasm blaze a trail down your inner thighs in clear streams as isagi guides you through it. rin doesn’t bother fighting his biological instincts, craning his head up for just a taste, a smell, anything — your sugary and musky scent sending him spiralling while heady precum oozes from his time painfully.

“ah, ah fuck, baby. keep that orgasm goin’ for me, keep cumming. so pretty.” soft praises fall on your ears despite the white noise that overwhelms you, letting yoichi control the way you twitch and react with his large hands still working you through it all — perfectly nestled between your trembling thighs. you came so much, so sweet.”

it’s like yoichi is in awe of you, kissing your cheek as you come down from your high — still clenching and fluttering around his fingers. the pair of you forget about rin sitting on the floor between your legs — bearing witness to the way your orgasm rhythmically drips out of you. it’d be foolish for both boys not to become obsessive over the way you guys. slowly, one of your hands leaves rin’s muscled shoulder to grip your boyfriend’s hair and tug him into giving you a wet and loving kiss.

“you always make me cum so hard, yoichi,” you praise him, your shaky voice sounding angelic to both men. “thank you, baby.”

still licking his way into your mouth, isagi sighs in content, circling his hips into your ass. “all i wanna do is make you feel good,” he breathes his want into you. “are you okay to keep going? we can stop right here. rin doesn’t have to see anymore.”

it’s only then that you remember rin between your legs, discreetly humping the floor for some relief — practically shaking at how bad he wants you.

“you need me,” you say, hunger curling around the tone in your voice. “we can keep going.”

isagi fucking loves you. he’s sure he’s never quite met anyone on the same level of ego and desire as him. maybe you’re both insane, beyond the brink of normalcy with enough danger between you to destroy the whole world — but instead you stick to ruining the man before you both, ripping his ego down until it’s nothing but measly pieces and rin itoshi can no longer look either of you in the eye.

a pair of eager lips land on yours once again — tasting of freshly cut grass and the sweat on your lover’s Cupid’s bow. you suck and bite on one another, leaving your claim visually on each other while your hearts remain tied. isagi grabs at your fleshy ass cheeks, takes your tongue down his throat and lets you own him just as much as he owns you while rin bares witness to your boiling and passionate love.

familiar hands yank down your shorts and underwear in one go — desperately exposing your hot skin to the air conditioned room, causing a wave of goosebumps to erupt over your body in anticipation. excitement. “i wanna fuck you so bad, i can’t ever get enough of you, precious girl.” he whispers menacingly against the shell of your ear, like it’s a threat but instead directed towards the man at your feet. “‘m so lucky,” his hands wander again, cupping your cunt squeezing your waist and pulling the sweetest sounds from between your lips. “being the only one to have you like this.”

once again, you collapse forward and dig your nails into rin’s shoulders — relishing in the way he looks up at you like you’re a forbidden prize to be won. an angel. a diety. you smile at him, innocent and cute, whimpering a breath’s width away from rin’s lips as isagi arches your back for himself — peeling apart your juicy ass cheeks to set his sights on your glistening pussy. your squelching hole pulses around nothing, sending beading droplets of your arousal through your folds.

“hi rinnie,” you simper and struggle to keep your gaze focused on the athlete, feeling isagi rub his seedy hot cockhead against the entire length of his sex. teasing the both of you. “how’s are you doing?”

there’s so much he wants to say to you. to do to you. if rin had a little more confidence and higher self esteem — maybe he could acknowledge his feelings, he could kiss you, make you his, make you forget all about isagi. but rin is a coward paralysed by his own fear of feeling something real. he lets you walk all over him instead. both of you.

“i’m good, how are you feeling?” he mumbles in response, all needy-like. you almost feel bad for him, revelling in the way rin tracks your moans, his mouth dropping open just like yours when yoichi drives his hips forwards and bullies his heavy cock past your fluttering entrance. “f-fuck, you’re so…”

“so what, r-rinnie?”

“so pretty.”

his eyes shine when he speaks, glossy with desire causing pride to curl around your heart and fan the flames of debauchery inside of you. isagi pulls back, his brows creasing in the centre of his sweaty forehead as he adjusts his tender grip on your hips and pulls his cock from the snugness of your drenched heat. he thrusts forward, hitting every pleasure spot he’s ever mapped out along the length of your slippery walls, making you shudder and press your forehead to rin’s for support.

“pretty girl, how are you still so…” isagi grunts, high-pitched and borderline whiny, choking on the spit that pools against the pad of his tongue and slips out of the corner of his mouth. “so fucking tight. god, i needed this. needed you.”

the way in which isagi yearns for you will never fail to make you melt, following your biological instinct which tells you to push your hips back and throw your ass back on him too. “it’s all for you, yoichi,” you drawl, a wet sigh lying on your glossy lips while your boyfriend's milky tips drags along your insides, churning you up just as he kisses your cervix. rin’s face crumples and you feel a little mean for getting lost in his rival right before his very eyes — but the other half of you enjoys the psychological torment you’re putting him through.

you like how at any point he could have gotten up and left yourself and isagi to your fun. but rin stays, because he likes the position of vulnerability you put him in. he trusts you, both you and isagi.

yoichi pacifies himself by latching into your shoulder with pointed teeth, licking over the bite marks as his chest rumbles in content and his hips set a steady stream to fuck you with. his dark hair tickles your skin every time he pumps his cock in and out of you, feeding your body his lust for you and painting you with opaque layers of pre between your thighs. it mixes with your arousal, clear strings slinging against your legs each time isagi’s balls tap at your sensitive clit.

he breathes his ego into you, making your face burn, making you cry out until your throat is raw. isagi has always been able to fill you up so good, his cock is pretty — decorated with spiralling blue and green veins that hit spots you can’t reach with your fingers while is shaft slightly curves, up just enough to never leave your g-spot. even when he’s fucking you from behind.

“oh precious girl, that’s it, throw it back on me,” isagi slurs, hardly able to focus on anything aside from the way you take him in — the lewd pap, pap, pap of your pussy rippling around him. “show me how you want it. how you want me to use this cock for you.”

isagi tells you encouragingly between thready breaths. he’s always been a giver, his pleasure has always been your pleasure and his end goal to make you see stars when you cum. like you, isagi always finds a way to get what he wants. and he wants you to lose your mind to him. in front of rin.

“right there, yoichi — need you right there!” comes your heavenly little whine as you throw your head back onto his shoulder for the nth time that evening. your attention tears away from rin for only a second, giving him the perfect view of your breasts that bounce as yoichi pounds you from behind and the crystallised beads of sweat that run down the collum of your throat. “y’so big, oh my god.”

“you, hah, you hear that rin? she keeps cryin’ my name, praising me like i’m her fucking god.” he somehow manages to snap to his rival.

you have an inkling that yoichi going insane since his voice drips with a huskiness that lowers its octave. he seems to lose his goal, however, succumbing to your selfish cunt that refuses to let him pull out and forces the striker to keep his thrusts deep and targeted inside of your heated core.

bliss is pungent in the air, lays heavy across every inch of your mind and you find yourself succumbing to it — once mover digging your nails into rin’s shoulders until they form pretty crescent moons on the expanse of his milky flesh and you can use him as leverage to fuck yourself back on yoichi’s creamy dick.

everything sounds so fucking nasty, and rin really can’t fucking help it. all of his shamefulness that once painfully panged at each of his nerve endings seems to have fizzled away into shameless. he finds himself no longer caring that his cock is pulsing from watching his friend ( his rival, his enemy, his … crush? whatever …) fuck the girl of his dreams to high heavens and back. with his emerald gaze laser focused on darting between your viscous and drenched cunt sucking yoichi in, and your angelic expression ( creased brows and perfectly pouty lips) — rin let’s his hand slip beneath his shorts to finally relieve himself of the ache.

he hissed at the first contact with his erection, the sound quickly turning to pathetic blubbers that make his ears burn red at their tips — because it feels so good. finally touching himself in sync with isagi’s thrusts, getting himself off to the way he fucks you, loves you. torn between wanting to be either of you. it’s a large thing to admit to himself, sifting through a maze of lust, attraction. rin has been chasing after the want to be loved for so long and somewhere along the way it morphed into wanting to be between you both.

he won’t admit it out loud, however, but he feels lucky enough to watch right now. grateful that he pushed isagi this far.

the sounds of him jerking off his crying cock, rubbing at his slit from time to time, merges perfectly with the sinful symphony of your mewls, your cries and the weightly slap of isagi’s skin against your own. his guttural moans too, and his breeder’s balls smacking down wetly on your equally wet, puffy cunt. you catch on first, teary eyes drifting down to the movement beneath the younger itoshi’s clothes and then back up to his face — which looks lighter, relieved and less tense.

“oh rinnie,” you coo, voice rising an octave — delighted by the sight in front of you and the way in which your boyfriend eagerly chases the hot grip of your abused, leaky hole. “y-you’re so cute… you like watching me get fucked that bad, hm?”

“y-yes, god yes.” he lets out a choked moan in response, his throat dry from holding back and not having spoken in a while.

you grin lazily and lift a hand from rin’s shoulder to cup his cheek, brushing away a stray tear with your thumb. one that he didn’t even know had fallen. “you’ve been such a good boy, watching so well ‘n listening to ‘ichi up until now…” even though your voice wavers, and you’re just as submissive to your boyfriend as rin is to you right now — you somehow manage to reach out to him, lick at the longing parts of his soul that crave affection like this.

“he’s pathetic is what he is,” isagi rears his jealous head while slumping over you — aiming to steal your attention away. he’s rutting into you so fast that you swear you see a blinding white light, gushing down his dick and slicking him all up with your early release. “rubbin’ one off on your stupid cock to my girlfriend even when told not to. seems like you never listen, not on the field. not here. you just live to piss me off, don’t you man.”

it’s humiliating for rin, but he likes it. stuck between your loving praise and isagi’s harsh words. “seeing her cum for me wasn’t enough for me to prove my point to you, but now she’s on my dick and you still won’t admit it.” he barks but doesn’t let up on fucking you senseless.

the hand that squeezes and tugs at rin’s sorely, hard cock only seems to move faster the more mean, embarrassing shit isagi spews at him. tearing the younger player down but making him feel this amazing. he can’t ignore the small spurts of pre cum that his iron hot tip releases just from having the two of you watching him. it’s evident in the dark stain that seeps through the fabric of his soccer shorts.

his cheeks are flushed and his eyelids droopy as he looks up at you, palming himself to your very vision of beauty. the three of you are a mess. you can’t help but sequel like a lamb being dragged to slaughter between rin and isagi — who tears you apart by plunging into you as deep as he can go and pieces you back together with sloppy kisses to your back, tonguing at your neck possessively.

isagi’s veiny hands grab at your ass next to pull you onto his thrusting cock, pushing anything that leaks out of you back into your clenching hole. he peels his sweat soaked chest away from your back and you whimper at the loss of his body heat — only to let out a surprised sob when he spits onto the point at which your bodies join, fucking the froth past your entrance.

everything your boyfriend does to you, has a snowball effect on rin. he no longer holds back, wildly bucking his hips into his hand wishing it were your sluice sex, or your mouth. dying to have his hands all over you the way isagi does. you terrorise his thoughts but your moans and squeaks soothe him — dragging him closer and closer to his high. you’re dangerous, rin concludes, but it only makes him want to see you like this even more.

meanwhile, you’re in no better condition — every time isagi bends you over and ravages you like this, you’re reminded of the many reasons why he is blue lock’s star player. his strong build from playing soccer all around the world pays off in he’s with you, making good use of his new found stamina to wreck your entire being and pound you all the way to hell. though yoichi is shorter and lean where rin is taller and agile, he never fails to make your brain void of any thought and your legs soft thighs with how wet you are. he fucks you like he hates you, like he’s mad at you for your own existence but he speaks to you in ways that emulate love.

“you’re milking me, precious girl,” he mutters as if he’s in awe. “you want my cum that badly? you want me?” yoichi purrs, sending shockwaves through your system and right down to your pelvis — adding to the orgasmic knots that twist there, threatening to unravel at any second. “you’re so pretty, grinding up on me. so dirty, loving how rin watches you. my precious girl.”

“‘m yours, yoichi,” you reaffirm, preening into his touch as it cascades up and down your body like a rushing waterfall. “wanna cum, wanna cum f’you.”

your admission is like a bullet to the chest for rin but he doesn’t want to give this up, revelling how you look down at him, his milky white dick and his blushing face with an expression so sweet his teeth might rot and his ears fill with your honey-like voice — melting his brain. he wants this for as long as you’ll give it to him, for as long as isagi will allow him to witness it.

“i know baby, but you know what i want, feels so much better when you wait for me,” your boyfriend’s thrusts begin to grow sloppy and irregular — indicating the approach of his own high. but isagi knows you and your body better than anyone else, knows how to make you cum so hard that you might black out. you love to be edged, and you love him even more so. you’d do whatever he wanted and then some. and he would do the same for you.

he throbs within your tightness, your pussy papping and pulsating, smeared with isagi’s thick precum that douses your puffy folds in white. the mix froths, creating a foamy ring of white at the thickest point of his length. “p-please, yoichi. i don’t think i can,” you wail in denial like you always do, the sound causing both boys to squeeze the base of their cocks and groan in unison — attempting to stave off their orgasms. “hurts so good.”

rin is reminded of just how good his rival can fuck you. even when you’re desperate to cum (and he’s just as desperate to watch it happen again) — you still have a burning hunger for isagi to control your ecstasy. he wants to give up control like that too. with you, or with his destined enemy. liquid lust rolls down rin’s dick in large waves, his eyes threatening to roll back as he listens to your moans get higher and higher the closer you are. yoichi is in no better condition, growling and chasing after your cunt as your hips attempt to run away from him.

“she wants to fucking cum, you idiot.” rin grunts, finding his voice amidst the sound of crying, moaning and skin on skin. “please, let her cum.”

“why? so you can bust a nut to my fucking girl. jeez, rin. get a fucking grip.”

maybe this is what makes isagi the bad boyfriend rin so desperately wants to make him. putting his pleasure above your own even though rin knows that’s far from the truth — almost relenting while he jerks off to the same pace that isagi fucks you with. but then you call out to him, like a siren from the high seas.

“rinnie, please touch me. h-help me cum.”

his body moves on his own accord after that, the hand that’s not getting himself off to you and his so called friend reaching between shaky legs and salty skin to fumble with your clit awkwardly. rin has never touched a girl a girl before, not even like this. but he tries to recreate it in the way that isagi does, to listen to you moan for him and see you tremble above him.

“h-how’s that?” he breathes, watching in awe as your eyes roll back into your skull.

“more.” you say. barking out the command while your cunt spews a fresh wave of juices onto rin’s hand.

your body seizes up, pleasured from all angles. between yoichi’s cock and rin’s calloused thumb drags random shapes over the pearl between your folds. “motherfucker….” the curse spills from isagi’s lips before he can stop it and admit how fucking amazing it feels to have you tense around him, warm and wet. it’s worse when rin accidentally catches his cock as it slips in and out of you rapidly, churning up your insides. “fucking bastard. at least touch her properly, rub in circles.”

rin does what he’s told, following the simple command and obediently flicking at your clit. it’s totally worth it, surrendering his autonomy to the older player just to have you tug at his hair and squeal his name. you jut your hips back and forth, meeting both boys in their bid to make you see heaven. your limbs threaten to give out on you, you pulse and pleasure tremors through you like an earthquake.

“oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!” you chant like it’s a prayer.

the world around you falls away as you’re finally pushed over the edge — a bright white light flooding your vision accompanied by static fizzling in your ears. rin watches you cum a second time as if he’s witnessing the eight wonders of the world, your cunt flooding with isagi’s cum at the same time that you squirt with ease. his load floods your womb, filling you up to the brim and you feel so good you might die. a scream tearing in your throat and the knots in your lower tummy rapidly unravelling. the both of you cumming together, at last.

you can’t help it, surging forward to press your lips against rin’s, kissing him hazily, your tongue prodding through his lips — licking into his mouth. rin creams his pants at the very sensation, damn near sobbing into your open mouth. “f-fucking christ, that’s so hot.” isagi whines, slowly pulling out of you and letting the crude mix of your arousals hit the floor.

it’s only then that rin realises love is not binary. there are no clear paths to achieving the perfect love. there hat tricks or dribble techniques. love is unwinding and binding and there are too many possibilities. and that scares rin, for him to love a girl he can’t have.

your knees buckle under the exhaustion of it all and rin reaches out to catch you before you can pull away and the oxygen from reality floods his brain again. he misses you when isagi reaches you first, coddling you in his arms and kissing all over your face to calm you down and reassure you. loving you in ways rin isn’t sure that he’s capable of.

nosing your cheek, isagi coos out to you — his personality doing a complete 180. “you okay, precious. i wasn’t too hard on you, right?”

you’re so happy to be in his arms, close to dozing off. “‘m okay, yoichi. you were perfect. you always are. i love you.”

“do you need help getting to the showers? i can carry you there.”

eyeing rin on the floor, you look back up to isagi and shake your head adoringly — knowing that they’ll probably need to talk this out without you.

“i’ll be alright, find me when you’re done here. okay?”

the striker lets you back down and accepts a kiss on the cheek from you. you pad away to wash off — leaving him in silence with his younger counterpart. the tension fails to dissipate as they fix themselves, tucking away their dicks and floundering to speak.

rin watches the way isagi longingly looks at the door, wanting to be with you instead of dealing with the consequences of his actions. it dawns on him then, that he literally cannot win against isagi, that perhaps he is better than rin in all ways possible. he’s a loser. he lost to you and to isagi.

“i’m… i’m a good boyfriend. for her, yanno,” isagi says awkwardly after some time, scratching the back of his head shyly. “there isn’t anything i wouldn’t do for her…but how much i love her doesn’t reflect in my plays and she knows that. the way i love her and love soccer are different. i could never blame my mistakes on how much i care for her. it would be on me. like today was on you.”

rin can only blink back in response. “that’s true. i’m—“ he wants to apologise, but something inside him, something that he’d worked so hard to undo this past hour doesn’t let him. he can’t submit, be truthful and vulnerable. not when the setting isn’t as intimate as before.

rin still can’t let go.

something familiar — akin disappointment swirls in the blues and azures of yoichi’s eyes, but he doesn’t comment on rin’s silence.

it reminds rin of his brother, sae.

with nothing left to talk about, isagi nods quietly and shoved his hands in his pockets to head for the showers — no doubt to check up on you, be with you openly and happily, but pauses just shy of the door. he throws his head back to address rin once more.

“oh and by the way,” isagi mumbles, pushing his tongue around inside his mouth and against his cheek. looking for the right words. as if he’s holding back — saying whatever comes next against his will. “she did really like you. so, every day i have to prove to her that i was the right choice, the better one. a good boyfriend. so don’t get it twisted. alright?”

he makes his exit shortly after — leaving the younger player with no time to respond.

and rin can’t tell if those words were supposed to comfort him or not. in fact, all they do is make him feel worse.

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colorfullpaperbird · 4 months

Text

Characters in Ace attorney that i believe are aware of fanfiction✨ ( and fandom )

Warning i haven’t played all the games yet, in fact my apollo justice trilogy is crashing every time i try to open it, so all the characters from after aa3 are based on fandom osmosis

Miles Edgeworth - writes Steel Samurai fanfiction on ao3 and has been doing it for some time now (the living embodiment of the ao3 writers curse) would rather die than anyone finding that out tho, doesn’t have a lot of free time so only posts once in like 3-4 months, fics are pretty good and distinct since he writes them with so much formality, so he is relatively popular in some fandom spaces;

Maya Fey- fanfiction reader only, runs an account on Tumblr for Steel Samurai news and fanwork, famous in the fandom and runs a discord server, one of those people that lowkey have their own fandom mostly bc of the insane revelations she drops about her own life from time to time ( “ lmao guys sorry for being absent but i got accused of murder for the 4th time and that really sucked ANYWAYS did you guys look at the leaks for the new reboot… “ ) Shes also way too open about herself on the internet;

Simon Blackquill: Sasuke fan ( derogatory ) also steel samurai fan tho, dont think he goes out the way to read fanfiction ( i think if he did he would read them in fanfiction.net ) but its pretty funny to think hes edgeworths beta reader ( AN: sorry for the delay, unfortunate circumstances came to light that my beta reader was arrested and is now on death roll ) He ran an AMV account on youtube before going to prison;

Trucy Wright: Shes 16 and her only friends are her dads coworkers, she opened wattpad AT LEAST once, probably accidentally read one of those “got sold to one direction (gavinners)” fics and immediately closed the app;

Klavier Gavin: opened wattpad to see what type of fanfiction people were writing about him, he runs a secret fan account and shares fun facts about him and his bandmates as “hcs”, also pretty popular but most people hate him bc they believe his depiction of the gavinners is “too ooc”. He is actually pretty impressed by the quality of most of the works and alludes to their existence constantly in his main on twitter, the fans go insane everytime;

Franziska Von Karma: I don’t believe Franziska is a fanfiction reader nor is she into any fandom, i do however believe she has notifications turned on for Edgeworth’s ao3 account, he doesn’t know that of course, what a foolish fool to think he could hide such a thing from his big sister, she will sometimes quote his work back to him and find amusing seeing him freeze. He thinks its a coincidence because he is too secretive about his hobbies, he’s wrong, she’s been following him online since she was 13, that’s how she knew he wasn’t dead in JFA.

Extras: Phoenix is technologically illiterate, he couldn’t read fanfiction even if he wanted to. Apollo is way too normal for that, he has the law autism not the fandom one. Athena knows of fanfiction bc she is young and in the internet but she wasn’t very interested in it. If you ask Gumshoe about fanfiction he would give you a smile and say “Of course im a Fan of Fiction Pal!”. I do believe Pearl has wattpad but only reads original works on there, so in my opinion she doesn’t count.

Im sorry for any spelling mistakes, english is not my first language

#ace attorney #miles edgeworth #maya fey #simon blackquill #franziska von karma #trucy wright #klavier gavin

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justalittlerandomartist · 2 months

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Ask: this is a request you don't have to do if you don't want to, but teen! reader that wants to strike a deal with Lucifer, but with all the work he has, he asks Charlie to go instead. but when she goes there, she realizes that it's just a kid that wants to get away from her awful family. So Charlie helps her and then they get closer like siblings and then when she dies (either due to an accident or by doing it herself) they go to the hotel and there she meets everyone and bc Charlie helped her, she stays and helps out with the hotel by doing things like cooking, cleaning etc. I'm kinda rambling but I hope you get the gist.

-Anon

•Charlie Morningstar x teen! reader

•platonic, no horny

•what if…there was a kid who worked as a butler at the hotel

_______________________________________

You ran. As fast as you could. Your mom was going to send you away. Somewhere far, far away. You couldn’t take it anymore.

You were going to make a deal with Lucifer in order to have a safe space. It was the only way. You couldn’t survive in that house. You had to summon him. The only problem is that when you did summon him….

she showed up.

Charlotte Morningstar, daughter of Lucifer and Lilith. She helped you. She gave you a safe space, a little hole in space time that she could visit you in, and you could access without her. If only you didn’t have to go back to that dreadful home at the end of the day.

Over time, Charlie became like a sister to you. You would celebrate birthdays together, watch movies, laugh, and just be…happy. You cared about Charlie, and she cared about you. She didn’t understand why you would sell your soul, but accepted it nonetheless. But atleast if you didn’t, she wouldn’t have had a cool new younger sister.

but….on your thirteenth birthday, when she showed up with a cake….

“Y/n? Are you there? I brought you a birthday cake.”

Poor sweetheart found your suicide note on the table. She was heartbroken, but knew you would be in heaven. Oh boy, was she wrong.

When you woke up, you were in this really bright place. It was on fire, and it smelled like a bar and dried corpses. But worst of all was the way you looked. You were fluffy, with a bright pink maids dress, white fur, pink hair, a little cotton tail, and…bunny ears. YOU WERE A FREAKING BUNNY KID! That’s worse than being a spider(angel dust slander).

You tried to look at some tv’s, hoping to find a news broadcast that could tell you about this weird afterlife. Instead you saw an ad for a dumb hotel-wait. Is that Charlie? HOLY SHIT, ITS CHARLIE!

You rushed to the Hazbin Hotel as fast as you could, and you were greeted at the door by none other than Charlie herself. She scooped you into a bear hug and showed you to everyone in the hotel.

Once Charlie told you about her mission, you were eager to help. You were too young to do much though, you simply helped clean and cook. You always smiled through the work, just like your mom taught you. A smile was safe. When you smiled, you didn’t get hit.

The hotel is better with you in, you always bring in a bright atmosphere, and you cook the best meals though. Sometimes you miss your friends in the living world, but you wouldn’t want to get your new friends sad, so you kept smiled. Although, someone might see through it.

___________________ Lmao this was so rushed.

I have this and a few other fanfics saved in my drafts on my main blog so they’ll get posted there then reblogged on @thathastagbiotch bc that’s my fanfiction blog so follow that account not this one

I’m so sorry this is so late

#charlie morningstar #hazbin charlie #charlie #hazbin hotel #hazbin #charlie hazbin hotel #Charlie Morningstar x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #Charlie Morningstar x reader platonic

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ssa-atlas-alvez · 9 months

Note

Hello

I want to see cowboy reader get captured and hurt by unsub and JJ worried because those two seem to have chemistry

Description: Cowboy reader's father visits, things don't go too well...

Warnings: abuse, abusive parents, abduction, claustrophobia, judgy nurse, hospital visits, child abuse mentions

A/N: I'm panicking that this feels rushed but equally, I started writing this on the 15th of May so it can't be that rushed can it? Lmao (Also I'm so sorry it's taken this long). Posting this before I can doubt myself some more :))

Taglist: @xweirdo101x @xdark-acadamiax @ara-a-bird @heidss @chubbyboyinflannel @pendragon-writes @migwayne @bigolgay @technikerin23 @supercriminalbean @honestlycasualarcade @caffeine-mess @1s3v3n1 @oddmiles @kevyeen @stealing-kneecaps @criminalskies @woodandwaxwings @wizardmon3 @aphroditeslovr @ducks118 @azeal-peal @13thdoctor-run @introvertpan84 @goth-boi-atlas @iliketozoneout

You and Spencer stood in front of the geographical profile, to be honest, Spencer was doing most of the work, you were watching the wheels in his brain tick. Since meeting the young doctor, you had almost been in awe of his intelligence and the way his brain worked (and you couldn’t help but want to protect him from the world).

This precinct was set out slightly different to the others you had been to, this station’s conference room had no windows, purely lit by shitty lights that were screwed into the ceiling. The only way you were able to read in this room was if you also switched on a bright light that was a lot less warm-toned to actually see.

"(Y/N)?" You snapped out of your train of thought, turning to the voice, it feeling vaguely familiar.

"Yes?" When you turn to him, you instantly know who it is but you force your face to stay neutral.

"You don't remember me." He manages to look somewhat defeated, you'll give him that.

"No, I remember you." You said, folding your arms, "You just don't mean anything to me."

"And why’s that?"

"You're not worth my energy."

He places a hand on his heart, "You wound me, son."

"Shame." You answer, you turn to Spencer, "Can you go get Hotch?"

Spencer looks at the scene hesitantly, not wanting to leave you alone with the man. Especially if he is your father. "It's okay, Spence." You reassured with a tight smile.

"Yeah, it's alright, Spence." Your father says as he takes a step towards Spencer.

When your father takes a step closer to Spencer, before you know it, you have him pinned against the wall. "Don't you even fuckin' dare stand near him." You growl, "I don't care how much you think you've changed, come near him, I'll break you."

Chuckling, despite his head pressed against the wall, your father turns his head to look at Spencer. "I have changed."

"Bull. Shit." You force the words out of your mouth, anger flowing through your blood. "Spencer, go get Hotch." You wanted Hotch here for a multitude of reasons. The main three being:

Make sure you don't nearly kill him

Make sure he doesn't nearly kill you

Make sure Spencer is safe

As soon as he's gone, your father's demeanour shifts and he smirks, "I thought we'd never be alone,"

And with that, he manoeuvers himself and slams your head into the wall, knocking you unconscious.

When Hotch and Spencer ran back into the room, three minutes later, you were nowhere to be seen.

You didn't know how long it had been, just that it must have been ages - at least four days. You had been there for ages, in the dark, a closet to be specific. And everywhere hurt - so, so much. Your father had been in multiple times and it was like you were twelve years old again, stuck at home with a monster with no one to save you. Except you knew that you had people in the outside world that actually cared about you (your team).

Each time your father visited you, dragging you out of the closet and throwing you to the floor, he inflicted a different pain that reminded you of your childhood while he hurled insults in your direction. It had been a while since his last visit - a few hours, perhaps - and, to your dismay, you were beginning to worry whether he would come back.

"This ain't creepy at all," You muttered to yourself, perhaps if you closed your eyes and simply pretended you were at home that would help.

You leant against the back of the closet, trying your best to get comfortable. You closed your eyes, picturing your bed at your Mama's house. Everything was okay. "You- You're fine," You mumbled to yourself, clutching your arm tight to your chest, trying to stabilise your shoulder. It had been dislocated on your first day here (wherever here was).

Everything ached heavily, throbbing in beat with your heart. Between the cuts, scratches, and burns, you felt like you couldn't take a full breath. It was dark and you couldn't see. You didn't know who was there, if anyone was really there. God you hated the dark. And it was cold, so very, very cold, you knew there was no way that you had lost enough blood to make it so. You knew that the only way in which it was so cold was that bastard had made sure there was no way heat could get into the room (assuming there wasn't a thermostat).

The beat of your heart filled your ears, mixed with the roaring that was occupying your ear drums. All with such force and such volume that you don't hear the gunshot in the background.

"Everythin's fine, you're gonna get out of this. Team'll find you. It's fine. It's fine-" Your feeble attempt at self-reassurance died in the back of your throat when you heard the familiar unlocking of the closet doors. You curled into yourself further, not looking up when the doors creaked open.

"(Y/N)?" JJ approaches you slowly, and you stare at her, trying to figure out if you've finally gone crazy or if she's really here. God, you hoped it was the latter. You couldn’t help but notice that the air around her seemed slightly brighter.

"JJ?" You wince, not only from the pain it caused in your throat and chest to speak, but by how utterly defeated you sounded.

"I'm here," She answers, "We're all here." With that, there was a small click and light flooded into your room. You winced, quickly ducking your head down and squeezing your eyes shut. When your eyes had adjusted, you opened them, forcing yourself to stand.

The team's eyes widened at the sight of you, covered in blood and dirt, stripped of your shirt and socks. When you finally looked up, you curled into yourself slightly, trying to ignore the damage.

You took a breath, "What about-?"

"He's dead." She answers and your shoulders deflate. They did come for you. He was wrong. Of course they would come for you.

"Who- Who shot him?" You asked hesitantly.

"I did," Morgan replied, frowning slightly. No matter what the man had done, he was still technically your biological father. You stumbled over to him, wincing and limping as you did so.

"Thank you," You mumbled, collapsing into a hug when you finally reached him.

”How about we get you sit down?” Morgan asks gently as Prentiss places a seat next to you. Despite you protesting that you were fine, Morgan helps ease you into the chair while Hotch calls the paramedics to check how far out they were.

When the paramedics arrived, they were quick to transfer you onto a gurney and then into the ambulance - the team keeping close.

“Do you want us to call your emergency contact?” The paramedic asked and you shook your head.

“No, no thank you,” You mumbled, giving her a small smile.

“Are you sure-?”

You nodded, “She, er, she’s already here,” You don’t notice Morgan shoot JJ a knowing smile - who responds with an eye roll and shaking her head.

“Okay, just so we know, who is it?”

“Oh, er, JJ,” You said, nodding to her, “The blonde haired lady,”

The paramedic takes a note of this, jotting it down on your form. “Thank you,”

When you get to the hospital, you’re settled into a rather uncomfortable hospital bed (but you know better than to complain). They start by giving you pain killers and treating your major wounds - the burns along your side and chest, a variety of deepish cuts along your arms and torso, and finally checking your ribs and collarbone for fractures. You had tried telling them you were fine, but they weren’t having it - especially when they poked it and you cried out in pain.

"We need to take you upstairs," The nurse said, "We need to do an x-ray."

"Upstairs?"

"Yes, the x-ray department is on the fourth floor," The nurse said and you drew in a deep breath. "We need to transfer you into a wheelchair."

Eventually, you were out of your room, trying desperately not to think about the elevator. Being trapped in a small metal box.

"No, I- I'll take the stairs." You mumble, shaking your head as you approach the lift. Not now. You can do this right now. You begin to stand when a hand is placed on your shoulder, instantly making you feel relaxed. You know its her without even having to look.

"You know you can't take the stairs right now," She responds quietly.

"JJ, I'm fine." You answer, grinding your jaw. You did not want to go in that lift under any circumstances.

"It's the only way to get there."

"Then I won't go,"

"You need to get an x-ray,"

"Don't need to."

"What would help you feel safer?" Her voice is soft, calming.

"You." Your answer is instant, that's not the embarrassing part though. The embarrassing part would be asking to hold her hand. The embarrassing part would be asking if Hotch or Morgan could also come with. You knew that they wouldn't let anything happen to either you or JJ - and they were physically healthy and therefore actually able to protect both you and her (normally you wouldn't have a problem with protecting the pair of you if needed, but you were currently slightly incapacitated).

"What's the other thing?" Damn, she can read you like a book.

You swallow, frowning slightly as you flush red and look down at your hands, watching them tremble for a moment, "H-Hotch or Morgan?"

JJ nods in understanding, gently rubbing her hand along your arm. "Does it matter which one?" When you shake your head, she turns to the nurse, "Can you get Agent Hotchner or Agent Morgan please?"

"For an elevator?" You frown, staring at your hands more intently as your face grows hot, watching as they continue to shake from adrenaline at the idea of being in a lift right now.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm just saying, he's a grown man, he can ride an elevator-"

You can sense the anger radiating off the blonde so you shake your head, "JJ it's fine..." You mumbled, "Let's just go n get it over with."

"No. You'd feel more comfortable with Hotch or Morgan here, so we're going to make sure that one of them are here." She says strongly, not breaking eye contact with the nurse. "So, can you get Agent Hotchner or Agent Morgan. And another nurse."

The nurse stares blankly at her for a moment before nodding and walking off. "Are you alright?" JJ asks softly and you give a small nod, hands continuing to shake. Seeing this she slowly reached down, lightly taking your left hand in her right.

"I-I'm sorry," You mutter before your tone turns bitter. "I shouldn't be feelin' like this. It's just an elevator."

"(Y/N)," You look up at her, "You've been through something most people can't even imagine. You're okay to feel shaken by that."

"M an adult." You said, trying to ignore your eyes began to feel the familiar sting of tears. "I shouldn't be-"

"I'm scared of dogs." JJ said. "I- Spencer was taken by an unsub years ago and his dogs attacked me and now, I'm afraid of dogs. Is that unreasonable? I'm an adult."

"That's different."

"Why? Because I'm a woman?"

"Wha-? No. Because you went through a traumatic experience."

"And this wasn't traumatic?"

"No! This was my childhood! I got over it! I should be fine with this! I shouldn't be here shakin' like a leaf over somethin' I must have gone through a hundred times!" You exclaim, "I should be able to get in an elevator without vibratin' so hard I’m creatin' my very own massage chair!"

"You're allowed to feel this way," JJ says gently as she crouches in front of you. "It's okay to acknowledge things that scare you. And doing this? Getting in an elevator shows how strong you are. Even if it's with two friends."

"Is everything okay?" JJ looks up at Hotch, who let's his gaze settle on your form - he can't see much, but he watches as you lift a trembling hand to your face, presumably to massage your temples. JJ says nothing, unsure of how much you want her to say, so you take the lead.

"I don't wanna go in." You mutter. "I wanna take the stairs."

Hotch had never heard you sound so small. "I get that," Ensuring that his voice is calming, he continues, "But we both know you can't make it up all those stairs right now."

"Its- I feel like 'm trapped and 'm not even inside yet."

"We'll be here the whole time," Hotch adds and you nod.

"Is the other nurse here?"

"Yep," Another voice chimes, "I'm Nurse Maddison."

"Hi," You whisper. "I-I'm not normally like this," You mumble, this was slightly mortifying to say the least.

"That's alright," She replies, "We've all got our fears. I find it difficult to go on public transport - I'm scared of a lack of control."

"I-I'm scared if I get in the lift, I won't be able to get out." You admit. "I'm scared the lights will flicker, n I'll wake up, n I'll still be there. Or worse, the lights will go out n he'll be here."

"Who?" Nurse Maddeline furrows her eyebrows when you don't answer.

"I just really don't want this to be a dream," You whisper.

JJ squeezes your hand lightly, "I promise you, this is real."

"We're here, (Y/N). You're safe. You're with us."

You sat, taking deep breaths outside the elevator for a minute or so. Just catching your breath.

"Are you ready to get in?" She asks. Despite the question, her voice is full of understanding. "We don't have to push any buttons yet, and I can stand in the way of the doors until you're ready."

"Can- Can we do that one? With you in the doors?"

"Of course!" Nurse Maddison gives a small smile before pressing the call button for the elevator.

When she wheels you into the elevator, you forget how to breathe. Shaking your head quickly, you find Hotch and JJ (which is easy as Nurse Maddison placed the wheelchair so that you could see both of your colleagues), "I was wrong, I can't do this-"

"(Y/N), look at me," JJ speaks this time, "You're okay, it's okay."

You shake your head, "No, no, I can't-"

"I need you to calm down for me, okay?" Nurse Maddison says.

"No! No, I can't- I can't do this!" You bow your head, rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands.

"(Y/N)." Hotch's voice is stern and makes you look up, "You can do this. I know you think you can't, but you can."

"Do you trust us?" JJ asks and you nod. Because you do. You trust the pair of them with your life. "Then close your eyes." You look at her for a moment before doing as she says, letting your eyes flutter shut. There's a warmth that floods through your body as she takes your hand again and you grip it lightly.

When the doors close, your grip on JJ's hand tightens and your eyes shoot open. "It's alright," Hotch is quick to reassure as JJ rubs soothing circles on your hand. "It won't be long before we reach the floor we need."

"No, no, Hotch, I need out-" You shake your head, desperately trying to get your breathing under control. "Hotch I need out, I can't breathe-"

"(Y/N), look at me." JJ's voice drew your eyes away from Hotch. "You're okay."

"No-"

"Yes you are, you're okay." She says softly, gently squeezing your hand in hers, "We're nearly there."

You pushed the palm of your hand into your eye, trying to force the tears back. "Not a coward." You muttered bitterly to yourself, not caring if the others could hear. You needed to get yourself through this ride without having a panic attack (and it was close). "Not a coward. Not a coward." You mumble the phrase, over and over. Intent on repeating it until you believe it. Of course, before that could happen, there was the familiar ping of an elevator door and your head shot up as they opened.

"Can we get out now?" You asked, looking up, "Please?"

Both Hotch and JJ give you a reassuring smile as Nurse Madeline gently pushes the wheelchair out of the elevator.

JJ leans forward, so only you can hear her as she whispers, “See, I told you you could do it,”

The x-ray went relatively smoothly, except for finding out you had three broken ribs and had broken your clavicle. You were also a lot calmer on the way down (still with both Hotch and JJ), feeling relatively calm (in comparison) when they wheeled you back into your room.

The team immediately greeted you with smiles as you entered your room, Garcia standing up from your bed (where she may or may not have laid down on it).

“So, what’s the verdict, cowboy?” Morgan asked.

“Um, three broken ribs and clavicle.”

“Clavicle?” Garcia asked.

“Collarbone,” Spencer added.

“Does that mean no baking for a little while?” Both you and Garcia asked, turning to Hotch (who had to fight off a smile).

“Probably.”

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octopotto · 1 year

Text

Yandere! Azul Ashengrotto General Headcanons

OCTO NOTE: Okay I know I said that I would work on the Cloud Strife hcs but then I got sad and thought about Azul lmaooo

Think of this as a celebration post for the live action The Little Mermaid release!! Has anyone seen it yet??

Warnings: NOT PROOF-READ, Yandere behaviour, manipulation, obsession, OOC madness, blackmail, insecurities, Jade and Floyd, this is a mess lmao I’m sorry.

**WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR TWISTED WONDERLAND

REMINDER: Yandere behaviour of any kind is unhealthy behaviour. It should not be something to seek out in real life. If you are experiencing any sort of inappropriate behaviour, please contact help/seek out help.

**The reader will ALWAYS be Gender-Neutral!

ps. HAPPY PRIDE MONTH TO MY FELLOW LGBTQIA+ <3333

———————————-••———————————

- Azul can be described as a greedy, manipulative, and intelligent individual who uses logical reasoning and sometimes solid ‘evidence’ to succeed, whether it be his business or his education.

- At least on the outside.

- On the inside is an insecure, isolated, and paranoid little octopus that when cornered, just can’t help but slowly become unable to contain the facade he worked on for years.

- Now imagine this sad lil’ octopus as a yandere

- Not good lol

- I mean yes, the manipulative and intelligent nature of Azul are probably the main reasons as to why he’s one of the more terrifying yanderes in the TWST cast.

- But it’s because of him being very self-conscious of everything, as well as years of being isolated from his peers at a young age, Azul can be very much a clingy type as well. Especially to ones he cherishes the most.

- Which is unfortunately you! :D

- At first, Azul thought nothing of you

- Only seeing you as a pawn for his own selfish gain.

- But as Book 3 progressed and the on-going reports from the Leech twins, Azul can’t help but become curious of your character, dear prefect.

- Why do you care so much about those 3 fools? You haven’t even known them for a year and yet here you are! Sacrificing your well-being to save them.

- It sickens him.

- The thought of your selflessness makes him sick to his stomach.

- But despite that, he starts to think about you more.

- And begins to imagines

- What if he was the one you were going all out for?

- The one you were taking care of?

- The thought of that shell-shocked him for a bit.

- He shook it off and proceeded to his planning once more.

- Once everything ended with Azul’s overblot, you decided to personally talk to him.

- Telling him that you also went through some of the same issues that he had as well.

- Pointing out your flaws, outwards and inwards.

- It’s just you trying to show Azul that he wasn’t alone when it came to these problems. That’s he’s not the only one who’s worked so hard to cover up their past in order to move on.

- To say that Azul was shocked was an understatement.

- In fact he didn’t really say anything while you were talking to him.

- All he did was listen to you.

- And for the first time

- He felt that he wasn’t being made fun of or mocked.

- It was…comforting.

- Azul is clingy.

- Be it in his human form or his octopus form.

- During the museum scene in Book 3 (when the gang looked at the field trip photo), you couldn’t help but hug him after seeing lil’ smol and chubby Azul.

- He looked soo cute and cuddly!!

- Bby Azul!!

- He was in shocked

- He couldn’t move

- But didn’t try to leave your embrace.

- He just stood still.

- He didn’t understand

- For the first time in a while, he felt at peace.

- But at the same time, his heart was starting to beat uncontrollably and his breathing was becoming heavy.

- Ace was weirded out.

- Deuce had no idea what was going on .

- Grim was hungry.

- Jack wanted to leave.

- Floyd and Jade were snickering in the background while this unfolded

- Azul was fuming out of embarrassment when he heard them snicker.

- It was at this point where Azul fell in love with you.

- So ever since then, he secretly longs for your company.

- Walking beside you

- Asking if you’re in needs of favours that only he can fix for you

- If you give him a hug, that man will hold onto you for a while.

- He doesn't even realize it until you mention it to him.

- Even if you’re in the Monstro Lounge, as long as he knows you’re somewhere in the same vicinity as him, he’s at peace for a bit.

“Ah! D-dear Prefect! I didn’t even notice you’ve arrived at the lounge. W-well I know! I know that I wasn’t in the lounge when you came in, I was in my office working on our marriage contract— I mean—! Contacts for fellow peers who need some assistance. And— Floyd! Jade! I can hear your mocking from here! Stop it!”

- Speaking of Floyd and Jade,

- They very much enjoy having you around the lounge.

- Or just when you’re around in general.

- You provide so much entertainment for them, it’s amusing to watch.

- Especially if Azul is around.

- They haven’t seen Azul like that since he was a lil octopus.

- But, like Azul, they also grown fond of you.

- Not like that tho

- Like a sibling

- A lil Shrimpy for them to protect and play with!

- As they grow more fond of you, they start to see you as a pitiful and defenceless Shrimpy.

- Despite you saving them from Azul’s blot form but oh well—

- They have to protect you!!

- So don’t try to run away from them

- It’s pretty much useless at this point.

“Hey hey, Shirmpy~ Let’s play together!! You know it’s useless struggling! Especially since you’re soo puny~ *Giggles* C’mon! I promise that if you stay good, I’ll squeeze you less tight than usual~”

“Fu fu fu~ Floyd please be gentle. You don’t want to scare them more than they already are. Dear prefect, don't be alarmed. We simply want to spend a little quality time with you before Azul orders us to bring you to the lounge.”

******

- Despite Azul being a very cunning and manipulative individual, he’s also very self-conscious.

- Azul puts these precautions and restrictions on you because he’s scared that you’ll leave.

- He’s paranoid that you’ll just run off and find another person that’s better than him.

- He’s always been casted aside for almost all his life.

- That’s why he made sure to cover up all of his past self.

- He doesn’t want to be that ‘octo-twerp’ anymore.

- He doesn’t want you to think of him as that twerp he was years ago.

- He doesn’t want you, the person he loves so much, to see him like that.

- Even with all the reassurance from you.

- Believe it or not, Azul takes your opinions of him in high regards

- Meaning if he finds out about something you don’t like about him (beside the obvious problematic traits he has), he would make sure to change, if not conceal them, in order for you to stay happy with him.

- As long as you’re happy, he’s happy.

- He just doesn’t want you to leave him, is that so hard to ask for?

- So please just stay

- For the sake of his own being entirely.

- And if you don’t?

- Hoo boy—

- You thought Azul was bad during the 3rd book with his contracts?

- It’s gets worst

- Especially since it’s business mixed with love.

- Let’s get this outta the way, this man will search high and low for any flaw or problem you have.

- He’ll find anything and I mean anything.

- Whether it be you’re struggling with (school, education, etc) or something you did.

- If he can’t find worthy material, he’ll just make up something believable. Then will exaggerate that shit till you can't even defend yourself.

- He will find a way, he'll find something to use against you.

- And once he has all of the information he needs to trap help you, all he has to do is call in one (or both if you’re slippery lmao) of the tweel twins to ‘kindly escort’ you to his office!

- This is Azul we’re talking about. He’s always ready to lend a hand to a fellow peer in need.

- And it’s totally out of the kindness of his 3 pure and selfless hearts.

- What a saint.

- 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄

- Whatever problem Azul decides to blackmail you with, the only way for him to solve it is for you is to give your unconditional love and devotion to him.

- He will also give you his love and devotion as well. But he didn’t say that out loud.

- At this point, you just have to give in.

- I mean, look at what could happen if Azul leaks out the blackmail material he’s using against you.

- You could possibly get kicked out of Night Raven.

- Where would you and Grim go? You’re not even from here! You don’t even have enough money saved up.

- Even if you could threaten Azul with fraudulence (if the accusations he presented were false), there’s nothing that Floyd and Jade can’t do when needing to silence someone.

- And both are glad to do so if you’re planning to leave them.

“My dear Prefect! Why are you looking so downcast? Is it because of what I said? Oh, don’t worry! If anything happens to you, it will be alright as long as you sign this contract I have provided before you. You don’t want to? Then hopefully you don’t mind Floyd and Jade kindly convincing you to do so? I promise you, prefect, you’ll be fine with me as long as you do what I say. My generosity and unconditional love holds no bounds when it comes to you.”

———————————-••———————————

OCTO NOTE: OKAY! This is probably the most out of character fic I’ve written so far. So please forgive me!! 😭😭😭

But I hope you enjoy this lil fic! I will be working on Cloud’s Headcanons now! <33

ALSO— THANK YOU ALL SM FOR 100+ HEARTS FOR BOTH SILVER FICS!!!! I PROMISE I'LL ALSO WRITE MORE FOR OUR SLEEPY BOY ❤️❤️❤️

#tw yandere #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere azul ashengrotto #yandere azul x reader #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #male yandere #twisted wonderland imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere #twst imagines #twisted wonderland #azul twst #azul twisted wonderland #twst headcanons

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whinlatter · 4 months

Text

author's note | chapter 12: scarecrow🪞

thank you soooo much for reading chapter 12 of beasts. january was long for all of us, but january 1999 was especially long for the worried youngest weasley, stomping around in the highlands snow going through that all too common and deeply humiliating experience: trying to get a text back from a man. embarrassing! pls know the response to this chapter has knocked my socks off and as a thank you i have given you many unsolicited words on mirrors, weird latin names, and thestral erections. to paraphrase movie molly weasley... just what you all wanted, actually! (plus the smallest of sneak peeks at chapter 13)...

✨ spoilers for this chapter below the cut ✨

writing notes and headcanons:

curse you/bless you chapter 12: my god this chapter took SO long to figure out. not just because of real life ramp up (cheers again for being patient legends with this), but just because i couldn’t for the life of me decide how to structure or pace it, kept writing scenes then scrapping them or deciding to keep them for later then repeating that ad infinitum. it had about five different opening scenes til i figured out how it needed to start. i know a lot of fic writers will have discovered this long before i did, but it’s such hard work when you know what the arc of a chapter should be, what the main plot points that need to happen are, where the emotional beats should come, but need to actually write a lot of building-block scenes to create that sense of pace and mood to build up to the important scenes, as well as also weaving together plot-threads that need to happen at this point in the fic in order to set up the later stages. this is how i learned that writing a service/‘turning point’ chapter (and this is, in many ways, a turning point chapter for a lot of different plots) is really really hard. part of the trouble is that to earn the relief and the dam breaking you have to write so many little scenes to create a sense of build up, and because those scenes are sort of service-scenes it’s so easy for them to be boring to write and, usually, boring to read. some realisations about what needed to happen happened way too late (there were no governors in this chapter as of like january 28th lmao. i was out on a walk and swear i stopped dead on the path when i remembered that the governors exist and i could use em to start to add the state in a more meaningful way, and especially the encroachment of the outside world on the castle.) when i posted i was feeling VERY uncertain about the chapter and just wanted it to be out so i could move on from it so honestly the response to it has been like the biggest loveliest shock ever. thanks forever lads. the gems i've been left in the comment section and the askbox will stay with me for a long time.

mirrors: this chapter is structured around the idea of the mirror (sylvia getting us going with the poem, sorry you ended up kicking off a chapter in a harry potter fanfiction mate). it begins with little ginny unable to look herself in the eye in the leaky cauldron’s talking mirror (that freaks her out - where does the mirror keep its brain?). it ends with ginny holding the two-way mirror, looking her own reflection, then watching it fade into harry’s as the two of them finally speak and connect after starting, for the first time, to be properly honest with each other. partly this is me wanting ginny to have a different way to talk to harry, something more honest that doesn’t let her cultivate or craft false versions of her days in letters but actually speak face-to-face much more honestly, and that is harry showing he gets that writing is a more loaded act for ginny than it might be for others. but what i hoped to convey was the idea that the mirror has other significance. the mirror is such an important image and device in harry potter - the mirror of erised, that shows you who you truly are and what you really want; the chipped mirror in the girls’ bathroom that leads to the chamber of secrets, where malfoy will later break down when called upon to do crimes he can’t bear to (plus hermione carrying one to look around corners with the basilisk); the foe glass mirror that shows you when your enemies are close; the two-way mirror itself, the item with the most tragic irony (a lifeline to sirius harry doesn't use to devastating consequences, the portal to malfoy manor that saves the day and costs dobby his life) etc. “what do you see when you look in the mirror?” - it's a line dumbledore first utters in PoS, and that comes back in DH, when harry is grappling with the idea that dumbledore might have lied to him about the answer (the socks are convincing nobody). it’s such a good mission statement for some of the themes that run through the series at large: who are we, really, what is the contents of our soul, who will we be (it is our choices that define us etc). harry potter as a series is also full of mirrors in its structure (see this on the books as mirror pairs), and narrative mirrors are a really important device in characterisation (most of all harry/TMR, the two orphans, but also sirius and snape, ron and draco etc). like most female characters in the series, ginny’s narrative mirror is a bit underdeveloped, but it does really seem to be bellatrix, the narration drawing them into association on multiple occasions to compare and contrast them as characters. (hermione’s is like - what, pansy? develop female characters jkr i beg). canon romantic pairings don't get to be properly fleshed out mirrors of each other, in part because they're a) all het pairings and b) het pairingswhere the female character is either excessively idealised and/or underwritten. it's fic writers' job to problematise, unpack and challenge basically errrrrr all of that. to that end, then...

hinny & mirrors: … what i wanted to suggest is that part of what makes hinny so compelling is the idea that harry and ginny at times come as close as being mirrors of each other of the canon ships, in ways that hinny writers can play with/tease out/develop as a canon coherent choice. i’ve talked previously about how we might see sirius and ginny as narrative mirrors in some ways. but i think harry and ginny are mirror characters too, to some extent. it's not just that they're extremely similar. the harry and ginny plotline as rendered in the series starts to happen the moment ginny starts being herself in ootp, and the two of them are able to see each other clearly and see themselves in the other person. there’s also a reason HBP and CoS are the mirror image books by design, harry and ginny literally paralleling each other with the prince’s book and the diary etc. even their respective journey to their own death mirrors the other person's. playing with the mirror as the item that brings harry and ginny back together after their conflict is therefore me doing a bit of a wink and a nod to this idea: harry and ginny on this journey to seeing themselves as equals, as two sides of a coin. the mirror as a device inherently invites character to see themselves clearly, and, in the case of a two-way mirror, invites the character to consider who they see themselves in, who is their reflection, who is their opposite number. ginny finding her way to a mirror where she can both see her own face and yet also call on harry's is a big moment for her starting to think about who she is, what she wants, and also start to grapple with how she feels about her own selfhood, her soul, her morality, her past. on harry’s part, him mending the mirrors and starting to use them - the mirrors he vowed he would never use with sirius, and that are so connected to his guilt over sirius’ death - is such an important step. it’s (literally) him picking up the pieces and rebuilding the mirror and his connection to another person he sees as his family, moving past his grief and guilt to try to see and be seen more clearly by the person he loves. we know when harry potter looks into the mirror of erised, he sees his family: here we have harry, having come a long way in having to confront, acknowledge, unpack and apologise for some of what he’s asked of ginny over the years, lifting up the mirror given to him by his dead family member and seeing his new family, the family of his future.

on the break up that wasn't... two months of getting the nicest most polite threats in the inbox if i broke harry and ginny up… lads. i would never! the scarecrow of the chapter title is partly a reference to ginny's fears - the inquiry, the forest - but ultimately about her relationship with harry, which she fears is in jeopardy - a fear that, ultimately, turns out to be baseless. part of my point in the hinny plot for this fic is to write a version of them that sees them growing up, and especially growing up together, not burning things down or being emotionally immature and dramatic, but doing the quiet boring grown-up work of learning to become a team, and learning it together. break-up plotlines can work beautifully (and i will always devour them), but i knew it wasn’t going to be a part of this fic as i imagined it. i wanted these two burn-it-all-down impulsive characters not to go for the nuclear option, which they might do in other relationships in their lives, and instead do something arguably harder: commit to doing thinking and reflecting and owning up to where they’ve both gone wrong along the way, because they care about what they’re building between them. there are all sorts of general writing love stories manifesto issues in this for me (people can grow and change and learn when they’re in healthy relationships, the only catalyst for growth in a relationship doesn’t have to be a breakup, female centric dramatic arcs don’t have to be break-up centred even though lots of brilliant ones are). but there are also some hinny specific points i wanted to make. the main one is that one of the things i like most about harry and ginny as a couple is that in canon their drama is largely external to their relationship. they’re just two people who properly like each other, get each other, bring out the best in each other, want to hang out and build something together, despite all they’ve been through. they're two characters that canonically just want to hang out and talk to each other, in a really nice way but also, i think, quite a healthy way too that would see them in good stead in their conflicts. post war hinny absolutely have issues and blindspots and skewed dynamics to confront. they have things to learn and they are going to fuck up (harry hurry up ya thinkin and write her back you dickhead). but it’s my view that they’re not going to have a big dramatic screaming breakup, they’re going to muddle through and figure it out, because what’s true about hinny is that it’s a ship where its two participants are emotionally mature, kind to each other, and ultimately constructive even when they aren’t always with other characters lol. that's my two cents anyway!

quidditch: this WAS in this chapter originally and then it got shunted to chapter 13. partly because this chapter had far too many plots already but also (i think) it’ll make more sense there for lots of juicy reasons. so that’s why you have that cop out line at the start about quidditch practices being on pause x because the author can’t juggle very many balls at once :)

death eater recruitment, or: why are young people drawn to dark magic? what i wanted in this chapter was to have a political flashpoint that kingsley, the politician, can use as a catalyst for the thing he really wants, which is an inquiry into hogwarts, as a microcosm of the wider wizarding world and the symbol of its future. the inquiry should happen, but, in reality, it would take political will to make it happen. it was important for me to have the catalyst for the inquiry be something that would really galvanise and piss off the DA, namely why does everyone care so much about the kids they hate getting involved in violent blood supremacist politics and not care about the victims of death eater hate. of course, the DA are understandably fuming: they suffered so much for fighting against death eaters, and they want their story of persecution and of resistance to be told. but the elephant in the room, and what's awkward in these little moments of right-wing talking points on the wireless or in the press or parents of death eater children pleading for understanding is that, actually, there is quite an important question at play here, which is, wait why would a fourteen year old kid or whatever want to go out and kill muggles? isn't that fucked up? how much agency do we give them? when is it grooming, when is it someone being actively hoodwinked (including the possibility of the imperius curse), and when is it an active choice of intent that deserves punishment? didn't all of that recruitment of young people for extremist politics happen before the war? aren't there child soldiers on both sides of this conflict, and if so, is that ok? how did that happen? these are uncomfortable questions that defy easy answers. they're questions that will sharpen and take on new life in the form of the inquiry for our protagonist and for the DA and resistance as a whole. i am so so excited to develop it let me tell ya!

the governors thinking ginny is dead: this - bleakly - is canon! in CoS, the governors think ginny has already died, that’s why they ask dumbledore to come back. (“Well, you see, Lucius,” said Dumbledore, smiling serenely, “the other eleven governors contacted me today. It was something like being caught in a hailstorm of owls, to tell the truth. They’d heard that Arthur Weasley’s daughter had been killed and wanted me back here at once...") wouldn't dumbledore correct them when ginny was out of the chamber? a question for future chapters...

what's in a name: wouldn't be hp worldbuilding without trying to come up with some good latin and/or greek names to hint at character traits. this chapter we had to stick in a load of minor new characters (human and otherwise), so to google we went. we have benignus tuft, the governor - benignus giving us benign, so someone who is at best harmless and mild, but at worst ineffective and sort of useless. we have another governor, coelamus (koelemos), minor deity or spirit, god of stupidity and foolishness (of course ginny isn't dead you idiot). for the thestrals, we know hagrid named one of them, his favourite in canon, who is called tenebrus, like tenebrous, in english, meaning shadowy or obscure (from the latin tenebrae, meaning darkness). so the other thestrals got their names on a similar theme: caligo (darkness, fog, mist) anima (in some variations, the soul), and umbra (shadow). umbra's got a little deathly bun in the oven, which is going to need a name, too - much like a certain owl...

thestrals: the worldbuilding around thestral and thestral breeding was maybe the most fun but strangest part of this chapter to write (i googled a lot of stuff about horse pregnancy and birth and saw images i do not wish to see again). i will thank david yates for giving me the idea and then go back to never thanking him ever again. in canon, we know the thestrals live in the forest and that ginny is familiar with their habits as early as ootp, long before she's able to see them ('because in case you hadn’t noticed, you and hermione are both covered in blood,' she said coolly, 'and we know hagrid lures thestrals with raw meat, so that’s probably why these two turned up in the first place…', in ootp) the only thing we know about the hogwarts' thestrals' origins is dean thomas accidentally insulting firenze ("did hagrid breed you, like the thestrals?”). this is hardly concrete knowledge or evidence, so in this chapter i wanted to play with the idea of hagrid quite readily admitting he doesn't really know how thestrals come to breed, part of these magical mysteries of the natural world that are beyond wizarding knowledge. we do know, though, that thestrals have some connection with death, especially to bearing witness and processing it. i think they're one of the most intriguing and poignant images in canon (retconning over their visibility aside, joanne), and i'm excited for the plot that explores these themes and ideas as the different plots start to wind together. (a spoilery clue for ya: hagrid mentions time periods where the thestral herd has previously grown... thank you to @saintsenara, the real unsung hero/brains behind the operation, who puts up with all of my inane questions and thinking at her and always proves enormously and generously helpful, especially in this instance with some crucial date deets). also i took out a joke about thestral erections because it wasn't the vibe and i think we can all agree that is for the best.

songs from the playlist for these chapters:

had to wap out the celtic vibes on at least one song now we're back in the castle ya feel! neko case, herself a ginger goddess, has provided too many great songs for inspo for this fic and one of my favourite's of hers is in this week's batch (the most tender place in my heart is for strangers/i know it's unkind but my own kind is much too dangerous). the hinny songs for this week are star by mitski (that love is like a star, it's gone/we just see it shining/it's traveled very far/i'll keep a leftover light burning/so you can keep looking up/isn't that worth holding on?) and comrade sweetheart by my beloved bonny light horseman/anaïs mitchell (who's going to bind up your wounds? who when the wildflowers bloom? no other lover but you... in the dusk of my days.) it's about the blessing of time, the hinny DH parting gift! hours and days and maybe years baby!

and a wee sneak peek of chapter 13... (the inevitable line now harry and ginny basically have wizard facetime):

'Gin. For fuck's sake. Stop. Dropping. The mirror. On your own face.'

#beasts #author's note #chapter 12 #as ever #me just keyboard smashing deranged hinny thoughts #and showing i've never studied latin a day in my damn life #hinny

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fromfiction · 5 days

Note

(excuse the slight lengthiness of this ask pls 😭)

um hello! i’ve seen you answering questions on this blog, so i hope you can answer this one! /nf

i’m entirely new to the term and idea of “fictionkin” but ever since i found out about what fickin was and what it meant, i figured it might be me but i couldn’t be 100% sure because of a smaller thing.

for a bit more context which i feel may be important: i pretty much spent all my life mentally viewing myself as literally animated, as animated medias have always been a special interest since i was little (i’m now diagnosed w/ autism which is why i used that term btw). though i never truly viewed myself as any canon character, i always viewed myself as my self insert sonas growing up, my finest examples of this through the years would be self insert sonas of mlp and eddsworld. nowadays, as my main special interest is my own work (as a writer and artist) i mentally view myself as my persona, i always have during these current years and i believe i always will, to the point where i don’t even associate myself with my body or face physically bc i’ve always viewed myself as some sort of fictional version of myself and in my mind that’s how i look to myself. to put this in terms of an example, i once told someone that my physical body is like a car because i like to decorate it and make it look nice and i use it to get around in this world, but my persona is the driver because in my mind, that’s who i am and i’m simply using this “car” to get around (remember this is an example i don’t literally think my body is a car lmao)

but yea, the reason i’m very confused is because i always see fictionkins identifying as canonical characters from a media, or ig even self inserts as i’ve heard somewhere (correct me if i’m wrong) but i never hear about people identifying as their OWN characters if this makes sense. in my mind, a fictional character is a fictional character, which would include my persona that is very much fictional in every way (atp my persona is a developed character with fictional lore, other worldly traits (like magic), and is always a part of little scenarios or short stories i make up for comfort or outta boredom, just happens to resemble me irl in most ways but is basically how i view myself mentally down from personality to clothes that i really connect with but don’t really wear irl)

but anyway yes, i’ve tried and tried to research for anything that might be similar to my case but i don’t really find much at all.

i hope this ask was okay to send, ik it might be lengthy ik you weren’t asking for my “life story” it’s just that i’ve always wondered what was wrong with me in terms of this topic and why i viewed myself as being a fictional character, and now that i feel closer to a possible answer it’s very relieving but still confusing since i don’t know if the label really fits what i go through. i can’t help but wonder if it’s also maladaptive daydreaming or multiple things/something else but i prob can’t expect much advice or help w that on this blog which is perfectly okay lmao

again, if you read this or even answer this, thank you i’ve really needed to ask this desperate question to someone who seems to know a lot about this subject for possible help so i came here bc i saw that this blog was active for the most part! i’m also sorry if i asked things that weren’t okay to ask or have said/assumed things that weren’t okay either, again i’m very new to fictionkin as a whole.

have a great day and thank you <3

Hey friend. No worry about asking!

It sounds like you're asking if you can be fictionkin of an "original character".

The answer is absolutely. There are plenty of people who are kin of their own ocs, you just don't usually see them talking about it, mostly because their posts don't end up in fandom tags.

#fictionkin #fictionkind #fictionfolk #alterhuman

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yakultstanreblog · 2 months

Text

@alwayschasingrainbows hi hi thank you sm for all the questions <33 I appreciate u sm ik u accidentally asked on my main but I’m gonna answer them here :))) also thank you for sending ur own answers too I loved reading them and learning more about you and found them super interesting!!!!! <3

1. What is your favourite childhood movie and why?

Strangely I’d never been big on movies or tv as a kid or even now (I want to get more into it now but my adhd still says no) my mum even told me that when I was young she could sit my brothers in front of the tv to be entertained but not me, I’d lose interest hella quickly… probs the first time I got into anything tv related was when I was 10-12 and was invested in the drama of the tv series “dance academy” on abc3 Ive actually met the producer! other than that I didn’t mind a reality show as a kid but then most of that wore off after I studied media in school and we went as live audience to “reality” shows and I realised how set up everything was and couldn’t care less afterward -

If I had to pick any movie that I loved and that still strangely brings me some sort of comfort.. it would have to be the 2010 Jaden Smith Version of Karate Kid ahahaha idk why (well I kinda do there’s lots of reasons but then I’d go on another whole tangent so I won’t) I was like 11 when it came out so I think that can count :) I can weirdly watch it over and over whereas most other movies I watch once and never again.

2. Do you have a favourite book or book series and why?

I talked about this in some previous posts on here but my fav book of all time is “Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine” by Gail Honeyman !!!!! I also am very passionate about “The uncaged sky: my 804 days in an Iranian Prison” by Kylie Moore-Gilbert (the audiobook version narrated by Kylie herself) and fav wholesome series has gotta be the Heartstopper graphic novels!!!! AHAHA again I could go on and on and on about why I love them all individually as they are all VERY DIFFERENT from each other, but I’ll literally be writing like 3 giant essays so I’ll stop myself now!! I will say, while it’s important we consume and love media that we don’t relate to to broaden our perspectives of life, it’s obviously easy to consume and love media that we see a small part of ourselves in and think this has a lot to do with why I love these so much!

3. The colour that makes you happy

Probably a dark green which reminds me of the rainforest:))))

4. Your favourite cereal?

I honestly don’t eat cereal and never really have :,) cereals were kinda demonised in my house as a child (almond mum tings?) but then eventually they weren’t anymore but I never rlly enjoyed their taste - this is such a sad answer but probably Kelloggs sultans bran LMAO. I haven’t had it for years but I rlly don’t mind it … I think it’s probably very different to American cereals cause it’s not sweet … one time I went to an American food store here in Aus and everything I tried taste like pure sugar and hurt my stomach so bad LOL never again I’m hoping and praying that Americans have other food options not featured in this store 😭 cos I understand some of it as a one off dessert but like everyday breakfast omg noooo I hope ur stomachs are ok

5. Your favourite gemstone?

I’m ngl I don’t have a super passionate answer about this one off the top of my head (sorry I’m such a boring person!!) I think they’re all so pretty!!! I gave them a google to try decide which I like most but it’s impossible .. I think I love any of the blue ones!! I’ll tell you one thing I rlly don’t love the yellow topaz cos I’m born in Nov and I see it on everything and I swear it’s the worst one imo like liteeally any other one I love! But I can still appreciate it ig :,)

6. Any activity you liked as a child and do you still like it now?

My biggest pain as a child was athletics!!!! I used to be competitive in 100m, 200m, long jump and triple jump :) sadly I no longer do athletics or compete but my passion for running/competitiveness lived on and by 15 I ran my first half marathon.. but from 17 onwards I got quite sick and was unable to run (minus a few little months of getting back into it over the yrs only to have to stop again) and now I’m 24 and finally getting back into it again.. kinda.. cos my health is still kinda shit but I’ll go for a lot shorter runs a couple times a week and hoping and praying my health gets better so I can proper get back into it.. not to compete anymore just for myself cos it’s one of the only things in this life that brings me joy :) I’ve also always loved taking photos although I’m not professional or anything it’s just been a fun little hobby I guess.. I have a few diff cameras but in currently trying (failing) to save for this new different one.. just waiting for my uni scholarship money this tri bc I’m too unwell to use it to go on a holiday atm I’m gonna use it to buy this camera I’ve been wanting oop :,) I’m a much bigger a fan of film photography over digital but the camera I’m planning on buying is kinda a combo of both eg. It produces images of a similar vibe to film photography but is actually digital so u don’t have to worry about wasting film :) it’s also a point and shoot, super small and can be taken anywhere which is much better than my current digital camera which is bulky and has a million settings idk how to use lol.

7. Have you ever read Lucy Maud Montgomery books?

I was about to say no I’ve never heard of her but then I googled it and saw Anne of Green Gables which I read when I was like literally 8… and as I’ve said in a previous post I never remember what I’ve read even if I read it two minutes ago bc adhd tings but I always remember how it made me feel - and I remember really enjoying it! Maybe I should give it a reread cause I barely remember what it was about :,) as for the rest of her books I don’t think I’ve read any! I love so much that you have a fandom page omgggg I wish I was that passionate about something !!!! PLS PLS give me recommendations if someone were only to read 1 of her books .. okay maybe 2 for now!!!!! I might actually give them a read :)))

Thank you thank you again for all ur kinds words I hope u have the most amazing day/night <33333 I appreciate u a lot!

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lunarbuck · 1 year

Note

This song is literally perfect for a bucky one shot! Probably a sad and angsts one 🥺👀

Thank you so so much for the request!!

this song is legit so sad 😭 i'm sorry in advance y'all

Our Song

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader (any race)

WC: 977

Summary: nothing is the same after the snap

Warnings: THIS IS SAD!! ANGST NO HAPPY ENDING, takes place post-infinity war… , mentions of death and loss, grieving, referenced death

A/N: legit cried while writing this.... and yeah i said no happy ending but in reality, we all know what happens during end game so like,,, you catch my drift? all I'm saying is that eventually things will get better but they don't in this one shot lmao

main masterlist | bucky one shot masterlist | requests are OPEN

The dog tags around your neck sway and clink as you climb through your bedroom window onto the roof.

The moon is high in the sky on this beautiful cloudless night, and you can’t help but stare at it.

You find your way to the middle of the roof and lay down flat, pressing yourself against the plaster. Your fingers mindlessly fiddle with the dog tags, running the pads of your thumbs over the words pressed into the metal.

It’s only been a week, and it still doesn’t feel real.

Wakanda is nearly silent tonight, still mourning all the lives lost. It happened so quickly. You didn’t even get to say goodbye.

You weren’t even there to make sure he wasn’t in pain; you were cooped up with a few families in town, staying safe.

Your mind constantly replays what you think happened, the way he faded away in bits and pieces like sand in the wind. He must’ve been so confused, so scared.

You’d met Bucky a year ago after his deprogramming ended. You worked in the palace, and he often visited T’Challa and Shuri. It was inevitable that your paths would cross.

Bucky was perfect. So kind and caring, he would go to the ends of the earth for you. He’d pluck the stars from the sky; he’d keep the world from turning. And you’d do it all for him too if only he asked.

“I’m so sorry,” Steve choked, face twisted in pain.

“No,” you whispered. “No, no, no.” Arms wrapped around you from behind as your legs collapsed, slowing your descent. You couldn’t breathe. There was no more air in the world.

Steve fell to the floor in front of you and placed his hands on the sides of your head. His tears cleared tracks in the dirt on his face.

You still couldn’t breathe.

“He- he- he put up a good fight.” The arms holding you released you, and you threw yourself at Steve, burying yourself in his chest.

He held you tightly, shaking with his sobs.

“I didn’t get to say goodbye.” Steve held you tighter, and you gripped him harder like you were the only thing tethering the other to earth.

Steve didn’t speak for a long time, only whispering, praying, “‘Till the end of the line. ‘Till the end of the line. ‘Till the end of the line.”

‘Till the end of the line.

You struggle to take a full breath as tears spill from your eyes. Your chest shudders, your heart aches. The Wakandan grieving process is a celebration of life. It recognizes the pain but reminds everyone of the beautiful life the individual lived.

As you suck in gasping breaths, you try to remember Bucky the way he’d want you to remember him.

Smiling, laughing, happy. You try to remember the way he’d wink at you after telling a dirty joke or making you blush. The way he’d wrap his arms around your waist and lift you up, spinning you around. The way his lips felt pressed against yours, soft and sweet.

You can practically see his eyes in the stars, gleaming down at you.

Even though it’s difficult, you push yourself up, standing and stretching your limbs to the sky. You pull out your phone and scroll through your playlist until you find the song you’re looking for.

Won’t you lock me in your heart

And throw away the key

Cause I love you forever

Through eternity

You sway with the breeze, holding the phone close to your chest. Images of Bucky’s bright eyes and beautiful smile flash through your mind at the sound of the song the two of you would dance to nearly every evening.

He’d spin you around the kitchen and sing along, always the hopeless romantic.

You know that even though he’s gone, he’s still yours. He’s still your knight in shining armor, your beautiful Bucky. And you’re still his, his best girl. But it’s hard to convince yourself that as the weight of his absence presses down on you.

You don’t know how you’ll move on, how you’ll ever open yourself up to someone like you did with Bucky. There’s no one out there like him, no one for you now that he’s gone.

Today, Steve left Wakanda to head back to New York. He offered to bring you back with him, but you can’t bear to leave behind the place where you’d met Bucky, where you’d fallen in love. You can’t fathom living in a world without Bucky, one where he’s not at your side.

Each night this week, you’ve repeated the ritual. You hold on to whatever you have left of him, a ratty old henley, his dog tags, a hairband. You listen to the song even though it tears you in half, and you stay up all night. Each night, you wait for a sign, something… anything that will tell you that he’s okay.

Tonight, it still hurts, but the song brings you a new comfort. The stars shine down at you, and this time you can see his eyes, his smile. His soul, etched out in the constellations.

He’s there, just harder to see. You can live with that.

I have searched for a lifetime

For the one I could call my own

Now I found you, my darling

And I’ll never be alone

Every night, you dance with the ghost of what used to be, what you used to have. Maybe one day, the pain will lessen. Maybe one day, it’ll all make sense. Today is not that day; today doesn’t need to be that day. All you know is that tonight, Bucky is with you in the stars, and that’s all you can ask for.

We’ll be sweethearts forever

Through eternity

—

Every night I’m dancing with your ghost.

please message me to be added to a taglist! mucst be 18+

Everything tags: @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @emi11ie @paulasocean @silverfire475 @lovingchoices14 @nekoannie-chan @jen-with-a-pen

All Bucky taglist: @prettylittlepluviophile @writerwrites @w0nderw0mansw0rld @hawsx3 @meetmeatyourworst @harrysthiccthighss @goldylions @late-to-the-party-81 @luxeavenger @cloudyfeel @searchf0rtheskyline @keliiii @urmom4130

strikethru means I couldn't tag you for some reason :/

p.s. i intend to write a part 2 bc I want them to have a happy ending!!!

songs referenced in this fic:

Dancing With Your Ghost by Sasha Alex Sloan

Through Eternity: Jerry Fuller

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frenziedslashers · 2 years

Note

Thomas Hewitt walking in on his S/O crying because Hoyt was specially degrading that day after they froze in place while a victim was making a run for it? They do not do so in front of him out of fear that he will feel uncomfortable or he will leave them. Please and thank you 💕

Thanks for the ask! Sorry I haven't been posting as much. College and Work have been a lot lately lmao. Hope you enjoy this :)

Thomas Hewitt comforting S/O:

Thomas hadn’t seen where you ran off to after the victim had taken off out the front door. She was a scrawny thing. About 5’4, with golden blonde hair. Green eyes that Hoyte seemed to take a liking to, but she was fast. Lord, could she run. Thomas had noticed you just stand there and stare. He couldn’t tell if you were envying her attempt at escaping, or if you were just stunned. He had noticed the girl shove you into a wall before bolting, and that was one of the main reasons Thomas insisted he is the one to break her legs and hang her from a hook. He could be insulted or beaten day and night. He wouldn’t care. The moment you were even being glanced at in a threatening way, all he could see was red.

It wasn’t long before all of that was handled. Thomas was dragging her back by the hair and you could hear the screams of the girl. Pleading and shouting with the man you grew to love. You wished you could have done more than just stand there. That there was something you could have done to stop her, but it was so hard to do something when you didn’t know what could be done.

“I can’t believe you nearly let them get away! What are you, stupid? You good for nothing piece of shit!” Hoyte screamed. It only made you feel more upset. Each insult passed through your ears only fed the thought that maybe you were good for nothing. That may be the only reason you were alive was that you somehow swept Thomas off his feet. Not because they saw potential in you like you were first told. Though mostly Mama told you that, Hoyte hated you from the start. You weren’t family. Why should he like you?

Thomas had found you in your shared room. You were curled up on the floor beside the bed. Knees tucked up to your chest while you cried. You were being sure not to make any noise, too afraid that Hoyte would hear you and hurt you. Or that Thomas would hear and think he did something wrong. He won’t think you did anything wrong. A little voice in your head told you. It was true, too, but you couldn’t help but worry. Those thoughts were even louder than the softer voice in your head. So loud you hardly even heard your lover shuffle over to your side and kneel beside you.

His large hands on your body - one on your back and the other on your knee closest to him - made you jolt. You weren’t expecting the touch, nor did you really want to be touched right now. A part of you thought it was Hoyte there to kill you, but when your eyes met Tommy’s soft gaze. You knew you were safe.

He nudged you as if to ask what was going on, and you hardly knew if you had the heart to tell him. You knew that Hoyte was an ass, and you knew that Tommy knew it as well. Was it really worth having Thomas mad at his family for it though? Maybe Hoyte was right, hell, you pretty much believed it now.

‘Hoyte?’ He signed, and your whimper confirmed it. You could see the fire in his eyes. The look that told you he wanted to break something. Or even kill someone. He would kill someone for you, anyone. All you had to do was ask and he’d do it. He didn’t care if it was Hoyte, you were his everything. You meant more to him than family at this point, because you were family to him. He wanted to spend his dying days with you by his side.

“Tommy, it was my own fault. I froze up when that girl ran, I was confused. Hoyte was a little mean when he got on me about it, but I shouldn’t have frozen up.” Thomas shook his head with a huff. He didn’t even want you helping with the victims they got, let alone being yelled at about it. Hoyte knew that he didn’t want you exposed to any of that either. You were supposed to be helping Mama, not being blamed for something that was really Hoyte’s fault.

He scrambled for a piece of paper to write on for you. His refusal and inability to talk made it hard to translate emotions, but the way he was scribbling and abusing the paper you knew he was furious. ‘He let her go, it wasn’t you. He was the idiot,’ He wrote down. “I know, but I could have stopped her.” He shook his head again, he wasn’t hearing you out one bit. “No,” He huffed. Though it was more a grunt, that’s what it translated to.

You knew you weren’t going to get anywhere with Thomas. He was a stubborn man, but it was so hard to hear him through your own thoughts sometimes. Especially with the constant nagging from Hoyte.

‘Would I lie?’ You read on the next sheet of paper that he passed to you. ‘Its not your falt.’ He wrote, and you smiled a little. His spelling was a bit off, but you knew he meant what he wrote with all his heart. A tear rolled down your cheek when you leaned on him and his arm came to wrap around your body. For such a giant man, who you knew could snap your bones like sticks. He was always so gentle with you. So perfect.

He knew that he had to do something with Hoyte. He just wasn’t sure what that could be. Whether it be ushering you away from the crimes he and his family committed and making you sit in the house with Luda. Or fighting the old man for doing such things to you. Even if it was just verbal abuse, Thomas knew firsthand how it could affect a person. He wasn’t about to let any of this slide either, but right now he was there for you. Making sure that you were safe and all right with him.

He smiled when you kissed his chin. Nodding his head when you thanked him for his kindness. The moment that you started moving he was moving as well. Helping the both of you onto the bed so he could hold you while the two of you lay there for the night.

“You’re so good to me,” he only smiled. Resting his forehead against your own. “So handsome too.” He rolled his eyes a bit with a grin. You always knew how to make his stomach flutter and his face heat up. He didn’t know what he’d do without you.

#thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #anon #slasher x reader

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thebindingofpillo · 1 year

Text

Lilith

Some of you are about to get real mad at me.

While Lilith is traditionally considered Adam’s first wife, that couldn’t be further from the truth. In fact, her status as mother of all demons is also false because Lilith is not a demon at all, she’s a monster. Or at least she was, before making a deal with Satan, we will explain everything in due time. I wanted to make a separate post about the differences between demons and monsters, but there’s not much to say about them, so I’ll condense everything here.

Monster = mortal, weaker than demons (but still stronger than a human though), their magic is more specialised and requires physical things like blood ad flesh (usually human blood and flesh) to work. Unlike demons, who are naturally evil, monsters can be more morally grey, and while there’s a lot of them who eat and kill humans for whatever reason, friendly monsters do exist.They are born, not created, and are native to Earth. Monsters were incredibly common on Earth in the ancient times, but were progressively driven out of their habitats by humans, which brought most of them to extinction. Nowadays monsters are very few, tend to stick to their own communities or blend into human society and fly under the radar. This is what Lilith does, she’s a preschool teacher and lives a quiet life with her Incubus. Demon = immortal, have access to more magical powers (and brimstone!) and are born in hell, which is on a different plane of existence. They can still visit Earth, but it takes time and energy. And also they’re all evil. Sorry.

Lilith is a Hebrew word, that might derive from the Akkadian Lilitu, which might derive from the Sumerian Ki-sikil-lil-la-ke (or just lil). All of these words describe a type of female monster that lives at night and preys on men (If you’re a nerd like me, here’s the handy video that started this whole thing lmao). The noun (yes, noun) “lilith” is used exactly once in the Bible (Isaiah 34:14) and is translated as “lamia” in the Greek version of Symmachus (dated around 200 c.e.) and the Latin Vulgata, which is another type of female monster that feeds on children and kills men after seducing them. Everything fits. King James’ bible translates lilith as “screeching owl” so I decided to co-opt that for her design, and give her some feathers.

And now for the actual lore, the preamble is done I swear.

Note: I’m gonna use “lamia” when talking about the creature, and “Lilith” when talking about the character What are lamias (in my AU) Lamias are a type of female monster whose powers revolve around illusions and transformation. Their normal state is usually of half-bird women with pronounced snake features (like Lilith in her normal form), but they can turn into full snake ladies if they need to (usually to protect their territory, or fight off other lamias). Doing so requires a lot of energy, and is a difficult form to maintain, even for the oldest, most powerful ones. Lamias can also turn into beautiful women to better attract men, their main source of food. They are also known to feed on human children, who are usually kidnapped from their homes and eaten whole. Lamias can feed on women and cattle too, but this is quite uncommon and usually only done in dire situations, like after a war. They are all females. Male lamias do not exist. This is another reason why they need men: they cannot reproduce by themselves.

Lamias usually live in family groups, composed by a matriarch and her (often many) daughters and her granddaughters. Once the matriarch dies, the eldest daughter takes her place, and so on and so forth. These groups can get quite large! So much so that sometimes, the oldest daughters might leave their mother to create their own pack somewhere else (usually due to lack of food and resources).While lamias prefer forest terrain and hotter climates, any place with a lot of hiding spots and a decent dry season is enough for them. It’s not uncommon to find them chilling amongst abandoned buildings, or in the mountains, in caves etc. they’re very adaptable, and while their wings might seem small, they’re still able to travel long distances to find a perfect place for them. Note: their wings are usually only accessible in full snake form.

Lamia culture is usually passed down orally from mother to daughter. They worship the Earth as the First Mother, from which every creature came, and to which every creature will return after death. Their rituals usually revolve around fertility, love, abundance of preys etc. I still don’t know if they believe in the afterlife, but they probably believe that once dead, they return to the womb of the First Mother, where they can rest in eternal bliss and be loved forever. With deforestation, poaching and human being less afraid of monsters in general, lamia population has greatly decreased, and with them being mortal, there could be a very concrete possibility that Lilith is the last lamia alive.

Lilith time for real this time Lilith is a sweetheart. A big softie and a hopeless romantic, perfectly content in her quiet life of preschool teacher. She likes cheesy romcoms, long walks and hot chocolate, but it wasn’t always that way for her. Born a little after the birth of the Roman Empire (around… 40/45 AD, she’s the youngest of the immortals), Lilith used to live in a secluded forest with her mother and sisters (and her daughters too, even if she didn’t have that many yet), occasionally luring men in, eating human flesh and generally having a good time. Think… Libia. Around there. I don’t know. Somewhere with both trees and Roman occupation, I’m not gonna pour more hours into this character PLEASE I’m doing all of this for free. Anyway, life was good for her and her family, until one day Cain passed through that forest, looking for a new place to live after he was exiled for the umpteenth time. Lilith immediately noticed the man and tried to entice him, but Cain (who had at least a couple of millennia more of experience) was not having it. He just wanted to leave the forest behind and find a new home, he didn’t have time to entertain a lamia, so he booked it out of there as soon as he could. Unfortunately, Lilith took that as a challenge and started chasing after him, hoping to tire him out enough to pounce him and put an end to his existence. The chase lasted two whole weeks by the way, but at that point Lilith was too stubborn to let it go. Cain was smart enough to always stop in densely populated areas as to lose his scent and get some extra protection (lamias and monster in general were already close to extinction at the time, and usually steered clear of human cities) but even with the best precautions, Lilith managed to corner him and finally get to him, but she was also exhausted after two weeks of constant chase, and could only knock him down and give him a couple of nasty bites. Cain still has the scars to this day. Sadly, Lilith was not aware of the other, worse part of Cain’s curse, so when she hurt him, her destiny took a turn for the worst. The man managed to wiggle free of her grasp, and while Lilith would have gladly chased after him some more, she realised she had been away from home for way too long, so turned back, only to find her beloved forest and family gone forever. In the weeks she was away, a Roman troop had levelled the forest, cutting down all the trees, killing her mother and sisters and selling her youngest daughters into slavery. She was desperate, and vowed to take revenge on the whole humankind, and that’s when things got even worse! Hearing her cries and pleads for revenge, Satan himself, king of hell, decided to pay her a visit. He offered her eternal life, a chance at taking back what was hers, and in return she would become his, in body and soul, and help him grow his army even further (which is a very fancy way of saying Lilith would become his wife, give him children, and he could also do whatever he wanted to her). Now, Lilith would have never accepted such a rotten deal, but she was incredibly desperate and in a very vulnerable position, and Satan knew that. He played her and used her trauma as an excuse to grow closer to her, promising her he would help her take revenge on the people who wronged her, and would even help her save some of her family, if there was anything to be saved.

Anyway, Lilith accepted the deal, and thus became immortal. Her new home was in Hell, ruling at Satan’s side… only he didn’t really want her ruling anything at all. He was a terrible husband, let me tell you. Once he secured the deal, Lilith was just another unfortunate soul to exploit, so he relegated her somewhere in Hell, and only came to visit once in a while, to check in on her and maybe send her on some errands. Pretty soon, Lilith became restless, and started pushing for her husband to hold up his end of the deal, only Satan wasn’t really planning to. In a fit of rage, he gouged out her eyes, and left her helpless and without sight. Luckily Lilith was immortal now, and losing her eyes didn’t kill her. She could even put them back in again, if Satan let her, but he usually kept her eyes hidden on him all the time, in a little satchel around his neck, only letting her have her sight back if he needed Lilith to run some errands for him. Satan kept her blind to control her better. After enough time, Lilith decided that a life of servitude to a man she didn’t even love wasn’t cutting it, so she walked out of Hell. She was strong, she could handle being blind, and even managed to snatch one of Satan’s little minions on the way out, her trusted Incubus. It was a meagre victory, but at least now she was free, and the Incubus useful enough. Sadly, there wasn’t much she could do about her revenge now. The Roman Empire had fallen while she was in hell, and the men who killed her family were already long dead and forgotten. She managed to meet Cain again after a while, in a different place, as different people, and the two actually became friends. This friendship would only grow stronger over the centuries, Lilith being one of the very few people Cain could be fully open, and while Cain could be considered the source of Lilith’s misery, she was quite understanding of the nature of his curse, and while it took some time, she came to understand that it wasn’t his fault.

Where is Lilith now. As said before, Lilith is now enjoying a quiet life. She works as a preschool teacher (children have always been her passion). She lives in the same city as the majority of the rest of the cast (her and Maggy are coworkers too!) and maintains a close friendship with Cain. Her magic has greatly diminished over the millennia because she firmly refuses to consume human flesh. She doesn’t really see the point in it anymore, since her whole family is gone and monsters are incredibly few. What little of her magic remains, she uses to keep a human form during the day, so she can work and run errands without much trouble. She could theoretically return to her full powers (and even transform fully into a lamia) with some generous blood donations, but it’s not really something she has any desire to do. Over the years she’s ha many relationships, some even quite serious, but tried her best not to have children. She doesn’t know if her immortality would be transferred to her daughters and doesn’t want to run the risk of seeing her children die. Incubus is still with her after all these years, and while she can’t exactly take him out like a normal pet, he can still follow her everywhere by hiding in her poofy hair. He loves it.

Other stuff that I couldn’t fit anywhere else

Lilith is not her real name! That’s just another name for her species, like calling someone “human”. Her real name is unpronounceable by a human mouth, and with lamias being basically extinct, she’s made her peace with the fact nobody will ever call her that again. While “Lilith” is not an ideal name (she prefers going by “Lily”) it’s still okay.

Can sustain herself with human food too! Just prefers her meat extra rare. This is how she maintains that little magic she needs to turn human.

Incubus is sentient, but to a lesser degree. He’s like a very intelligent animal (his ref is coming eventually I didn’t have time for it UGH)

I hope you enjoy her! I did not proofread anything of this, just take it.

#reincarnation AU (working title)#tboi reincarnation #tboi lilith #tboi #binding of isaac #the binding of isaac #tboi repentance #tboi rebirth #tboi au #pillart #lore post

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