#and it's fucked up to watch it happen in your own life - your little life as an unknown person away from the spotlight
Text
“I don’t regret it, Dean.” Cas says quietly. “Telling you I love you was the best moment of my life.”
“Yeah? Well, it was the worst of mine!” Dean yells, throwing his arms out to the side. There’s a moment of stricken silence where Cas’s face falls and Dean realizes how his words came across. He rushes to elaborate. “Do you know how many years I wondered if angels could feel love? Romantic love? Do you know how long I hoped that they could— that you, specifically, could? And more than that, that you would feel it towards me? I wondered all the goddamn time, Cas. And then you— you finally—“ Dean swallows past a lump in his throat, letting his arms fall back to his sides. “You finally tell me not only that you can love, but you love me. Me. And in one second, ten years of my wildest dreams came true and then were ripped away.”
Dean looks down at his feet. Clenches his jaw against the feelings threatening to choke him. He tries to take a steadying breath in through his nose but it doesn’t help him feel any better.
“Dean—“
“I didn’t think I was ever gonna see you again.” Dean confesses to his boots. “I thought I’d have to live the rest of my miserable life knowing I could’ve had you and kicking myself for being such a dumb piece of shit.” He swallows again and looks up. “I thought you were going to spend eternity not knowing that I love you, too.”
“I didn’t mean— Dean, I didn’t—“ Cas shakes his head as words fail him.
“So yeah,” Dean shrugs a little helplessly, his voice still tight with emotion. “It was the worst moment of my life. Except for every moment that came after— because every single moment from your death until you came back was the worst moment of my life. Every moment without you is. And you coming back could’ve been the best moment of my life if you hadn’t been such an ass about everything.”
There was a time, once, in the distant past where Cas’s face never betrayed any emotion. Dean could’ve scrutinized every single molecule of his expression and he wouldn’t have been able to read a goddamn thing from it. That hasn’t been the case for a long time— Cas took to emotions and humanity better than Dean did, and it was the only thing Dean had ever known.
Now, Dean can read a multitude of emotions in Cas’s expression: disbelief in the slight part of his lips, hope in the blue of his eyes, shock in the rise of his eyebrows. He can practically read every thought going through Cas’s mind as he tries to process what’s happened.
And then, there it is: acceptance in the way the corner of Cas’s mouth ticks up.
“I had no idea.” Cas answers after a moment.
“‘Course you didn’t.” Dean replies, his own mouth mirroring the small smile. “You fucked off before I got a chance to say it back.”
“I just assumed—“
“You know what they say about assuming, Cas.”
“No, I don’t.” Cas is full on smiling now, warm and full of the love Dean had only ever seen hidden in shadows of his expressions. Now it’s practically splitting his face open, spilling out of Cas like he’s finally filled up with so much of it that it’s simply impossible to keep it all in. “And frankly, I don’t care. I only care about what you have to say.”
Dean huffs out a fond laugh as he shakes his head. “Finally gonna let me do the talking, huh?”
“I’m in the mood to do some listening,” Cas’s grin is dazzling and a little cheeky, Dean wants to memorize it immediately.
He takes a step closer to Cas. And then another. Cas simply watches him approach, making no attempt to back away. His personal space is inviting and Dean enjoys stepping directly into it with no hesitation.
“Well, I might be in the mood for something other than talking.” Dean whispers, less than a foot from Cas now.
“Oh?” Cas prompts, his hand reaching across the minuscule place between them to settle on Dean’s hip.
“Yeah,” Dean murmurs, leaning in. “But just to make sure you get it through your stubborn head: I love you, Cas. And I’ll fucking kill you if you ever do something like that again.”
Dean kisses him before Cas has a chance to reply.
#idk man#these idiots just won’t leave me alone#I never write fucking little ficlets and I’ve written like five for these assholes#they just make me so insane#I’m literally not in control anymore#ficlet#destiel#deancas#supernatural#spn
300 notes
·
View notes
Text
episode five: the flayed
Slowly Steve aims away, the sound trickling against another wall now, and you share a disgusted look with Robin. With a sigh, she squeezes your hand. “If we make it out of here alive, I promise I’ll throw you the best birthday party ever.”
“I don’t know, I think Steve peeing five feet away from me will be pretty hard to beat.”
Summary: you have the worst birthday of your life, you almost strangle steve with your bare hands and then later get snot all over him, erica is your savior, dustin is doing his best, robin starts to suspect things, and the russians have opened a gate to the upside down. its all pretty miserable tbh. but hey ! at least steve won a fight !
Rating: general, some swearing
Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, violence, cursing
Words: 7.2k
Before you swing in: hi loves !! chapter five we get some more insight into bug and her very anxious mind. shes just a stressed out gal. bless her. anyways, bug aside im so so so excited to get to chapter 6. i have so many plans for her <3 but !!! for now pls enjoy chapter 5 and more chaotic steve n bug ;)
-
Everyone is screaming as you all fall.
You lost your stomach about a hundred feet ago.
Steve clings onto you, his chest sturdy behind you as your arms tighten around the kids. Their screams are deafening; you know that you’re screaming too, but the pounding in your head rings in your ears and drowns out their fear.
“We’re going down!” Steve screeches, arms now even tighter around you as he braces his back against the wall.
“No shit Harrington!” Robin is on the opposite wall.
Your nails dig into Steve’s arms, both from panic and from anger. “I fucking told you!”
As you scream at the teen, Erica and Dustin pry apart from you and run over to the vault’s buttons. They begin to argue, the rush of the room’s falling almost makes it hard to hear what they’re saying, but you know they’re freaking out just like everyone else.
“Push the button!” You hear Erica yell at your brother, and he turns to her with pure melodrama to screech back at her, “What do you think I’m doing?”
Steve pulls you further into his chest as he screams at the kids. “Press something! Just press the button!”
It’s a mess, the room fills with more screaming as everyone argues and pushes against one another in futile attempts to prevent the vault from plummeting even further. Your nails dig further into Steve’s arms and you close your eyes, too numb with fear to do anything else.
Then, suddenly, everything stops.
The room comes to a halt, you’re no longer plummeting to imminent death, and everyone crashes against the wall or ground while a giant box lands on you and Steve.
He takes the brunt of the damage, the box having fallen from behind him, but the impact is enough to send you crashing to the ground with your elbow catching against the side of the shelf the box had come from. Groaning, your knee shoves into Steve’s body, causing him to wheeze in pain. “My groin, you’re on my groin.”
You ignore him and get up, not offering your hand to him, and make sure Dustin and everyone else is okay. Seeing your stoic manner, Steve groans. “A little help here, anyone?”
Again you ignore him and make your way further into the room and stand there, slowly coming to the realization of what’s happened. Your limbs feel heavy, your head is pounding, and you’re locked in an apparent elevator made by Russians after falling hundreds of feet below Starcourt.
“Is everyone okay?” Robin hesitantly asks after Dustin has helped Steve up from the ground.
“Fine,” you rasp out, body still in shock.
Steve’s body is in its own state of shock as he starts to freak out yet again. “Yeah, I’m great, now that I know that Russians can’t design elevators!”
He shoves past Dustin and starts to jab at the buttons once more, but it’s no use. Robin tries to stop him, but Steve continues to press the buttons repeatedly anyways. He’s frantic, his eyes wide an wild with fear, and you stand in the corner as watch as he starts to realize himself just how fucked the five of you are in the current situation.
After days of ignoring the possible danger, it’s now glaring in his face, and Steve becomes even more frantic when he notices that you’re still standing behind everyone, silent.
He’s fucked up.
“It’s an electronic lock.” Robin starts to explain, and you listen silently. “Same as the loading dock door. If we don’t have a keycard, it won’t operate, meaning–”
“We’re stuck in here.” Dustin announces, already having figured it out himself.
The pounding in your head intensifies at your brother’s words as fear claws its way into your throat. You’ve spent the last two days pleading with everyone to listen to you, to be cautious and not go in over your heads about the Russians, and yet here you are: locked in a fucking elevator with Steve looking at you with utter guilt.
You had been right the entire time.
And yet no one bothered to believe you.
As Erica announces to the group that if she isn’t back by uncle Jack’s party tomorrow then her mom will ransack the town to find her and Steve yells at her about how he doesn’t care about the party if you all end up dead in the Russian elevator, a defeated and deranged laugh begins to swell from your chest before it forms into complete hysterics.
The laughs fall from your mouth in a frantic manner, and everyone slowly turns to look at you. Erica doesn’t understand what’s going on, though Steve, Dustin, and Robin share horrified looks; they all know that you’ve officially crossed the line that separates anger from insanity.
“Dead in a Russian elevator, huh?” You manage to bitterly spit out in between bouts of laughter. There are tears in your eyes, though no one is sure if they’re from laughing or anger or despair. “God, Harrington, you really fucked up.”
You’re practically wheezing now from laughing so hard, hunched over as the action takes over your entire body. You had been right, and yet you’re now stuck in an elevator with Lucas’ little sister and your own brother, responsible for their lives even though you’ve never asked to be. Ever.
Steve tugs at his hair, just as overwhelmed as you are. He’s terrified of what he’s dragged you into, and he’s even more terrified that he was the asshole who refused to listen to you. Defensive, he throws his hands up in the air in defeat. “Why would you even listen to me? I mean, I’ve never been right a day in my life!”
“Oh, so this is all my fault?” Your body manages to move towards him, now standing toe to toe as you sneer in his face.
The laughter is now gone.
“You’re the one who let me continue this stupid Russian adventure–”
“I begged you to listen to me, but you refused to!”
Steve lets out his own deranged laugh. “How was I supposed to know we’d end up in a goddamn elevator of death?”
“God, how hard is it for you to admit that I was right?” Your fists shake as they clench against your side, your voice is raw from screaming. “Would it fucking kill you to admit that maybe I’m not just some pathetic people pleaser and that I actually know what I’m talking about–”
“Guys!” Dustin shoves the two of you apart, afraid that you’ll tear Steve’s eyes out any second. He points up, gathering everyone’s attention again, and reveals an opening in the elevator’s ceiling. “What if we climbed out?”
Hope sparks in your chest when you see the opening and you’re the first to shove past Steve and the others and start climbing up the boxes to get to it. Dustin follows, then Steve, and when the three of you climb up and out of the elevator, the small spark of hope in your chest quickly vanishes when you look up and see the hundreds of feet the elevator has fallen.
“What were you saying about climbing?” Steve’s voice echoes off of the walls surrounding the elevator. They’re smooth, pure metal and infrastructure, and you swallow down tears.
There’s no way any of you can possibly climb up them. You’re stuck.
Admittedly, Dustin handles this realization a lot better than you do. He immediately starts to come up with another plan, he has his radio, he can call for help, and as he comes up with new ways to reignite the hope with Steve, you wordlessly descend back down into the elevator. You don’t spare the two boys another glance as you leave, too emotionally exhausted and still shaking from the waves of guilt and anxiety that plague you.
After you’ve silently left, Dustin turns to Steve. He feels just as awful as the teen, they both failed to listen to you, and now they’re left with your stoic anger that leaves them both feeling raw. “We fucked up, man.”
“She needs us right now,” Steve claps his hand against the boy’s back, his words strong but voice frail. “Let’s go.”
They climb back down into the elevator as well and find you, Robin, and Erica all sitting against the walls, silent. You must’ve already told the girls what the three of you found above. There’s nothing you guys can do now besides wait for whatever comes next, even Dustin can recognize that.
Your knees are drawn into your chest, your chin rests against them as you sit alone at one wall, and Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen you so small before. Sighing, he looks at Dustin, who gives him a nod to wish him luck, before he makes his way over to you and sits down. You don’t react to Steve’s presence besides allowing your head to fall against his shoulder, and it’s enough to calm the relentless remorse he feels within him.
No one speaks for a while.
The hours pass, the room silent as you all realize what the fuck you’ve gotten yourselves into.
–
You’re not sure how much time passes by, the walls within the elevator block out all possible sunlight, but eventually you figure it’s well into the night. After the initial shock had worn off, Dustin, Robin, and Erica had sat closer together and tried distracting themselves with sleep while you sat against the wall with Steve; your head never leaves his shoulder, and neither of you talk.
However, by what you figure is hour five, you desperately need air. You can’t sleep, the walls have started to close in around you once more, so you stand up, side step your sleeping brother, and climb up to the top of the elevator once more.
Steve follows you; he always follows.
He finds you sitting at the edge of the elevator, feet dangling over the ledge with your shoulders drawn in. Slowly he approaches you and sits down next to you, shoulder to shoulder, thigh pressed against thigh. You don’t say anything, and Steve again feels horrible for not listening to you earlier; he knows that for once it has to be him that is strong enough for the two of you.
“Talk to me,” Steve breathes out, pleading. It’s just you and him now, one one else, away from prying eyes. You’re safe with him, you will always be safe with him, but he needs to hear your voice and bring color back to your cheeks. “Please.”
Hearing the desperation in his voice, knowing that Steve has never once meant you any harm, that he’s just as scared and alone as you are, you finally break.
You throw yourself into Steve’s arms and sob. The tears come all at once, there is no build up. The moment you are in his embrace, the moment your ear presses against his chest and you hear his heartbeat, the tears come.
“I hate that I always end up here,” you cry into his chest, all that you’ve swallowed down now comes spiraling out of you. “I’m just–I’m so fucking frustrated. I–I keep doing this to Dustin, he’s always in danger because of me.”
Your voice hitches as your breath stutters. There’s more that you want to say, the guilt that has haunted you since Will biked home that fateful night swells within you, but your tears prevent you from voicing any of it. “I–I’m supposed to keep everyone safe but–God, it’s hard when no one listens to me. No one ever listens to me.”
You were supposed to listen to me.
Though you don’t say it, Steve hears it anyway.
He’s silent through it all, frightened and aching, knowing you keep so much within you. Steve has never seen you cry before, he’s never seen you break like this, and he despises himself for being the reason why.
Another miserable sob escapes you and all Steve can do is pull you in closer, furious at the world for the fact that he cannot fit you into his chest where he can keep you safe behind his ribcage, next to his heart.
You cling onto Steve and allow the last few years you’ve carried on your shoulders to finally crush you. “I just feel so useless–how can I…” you sniffle, try to steady your breathing as the words on your tongue terrify you. “How–how can I love if I can’t–I have to protect everyone.”
Your voice breaks once more and Steve allows you to take all the time you need. He continues to hold you through it, he presses soft kisses to your face, lips wet from your tears, he plays with your hair, he does whatever he can to engrave his apology into your body.
“I’m so stupid,” you pull away now, the tears slowing and embarrassment creeping through. You’re overwhelmed with your debilitating need to protect the ones you love, as if you cannot love someone if you cannot save them, and you know it’s stupid and immature to believe such things. As the exhaustion sinks into your body, you realize with a start what day has creeped upon you while in the elevator.
It’s July third.
With Steve looking down at you with a sinful guilt in his eyes, you wipe your own eyes and laugh pathetically at your realization. “This entire situation is stupid. It’s my seventeenth birthday and I’m stuck in a fucking death elevator.”
Steve’s arms tighten around you and he draws in a quick breath at your words. It’s your birthday. He had thought he couldn’t feel worse about what he dragged you into, but he had been wrong. You should be in your room right now, tucked away from danger, celebrating the first moments of your birthday with Steve crawling through your window with the gift he worked so hard to convince the party to help with.
Instead, you’re crying in Steve’s arms with imminent death looming over you because of him, and he thinks he’s never felt tears as heavy as yours.
“I’m sorry,” he gently lifts your chin with the same finger that has caressed your face a million times. The soft gesture makes you weak, and when your eyes meet Steve’s, he brings his lips down upon your forehead. He lingers, his lips are rough but familiar, and there’s more he wants to say. The words build within him, all the apologies, but he knows they’d fall on deaf ears. You’re exhausted, you’ve revealed more to him tonight than you ever have before, and he knows the vulnerability stabs at you viciously,
Instead, Steve kisses your cheek next, then your other cheek, then the tip of your nose, your chin, your eyebrows, anywhere his lips can reach, and the action causes a small giggle to blossom within you. Hearing the sound he loves so much, Steve smiles. “Happy birthday, angel.”
Your hand comes up to his face, and though a part of you warms at what Steve has said, another part of you aches. Jonathan has always been the first person to wish you a happy birthday, a tradition from when you were kids and snuck into each other’s windows the second the clock struck midnight. Now Jonathan is gone and Nancy is angry and you’re tired of it all. With a bittersweet smile, you cup Steve’s cheek in the palm of your hand. “Thank you, honey.”
The world stills between the two of you for a brief moment, his face in your hand and your heart in his arms. It’s reminiscent of earlier in the breakroom, the uncertainty that drapes over you and Steve while the certainty secures you both to each other.
It isn’t perfect, Steve’s uncertainty has hurt you, but he holds you with a certainty that makes you believe that somehow the two of you will make it out of this alive, together. He nuzzles his face into your palm as if he physically needs to be closer to you, and it settles something that stirs in your chest.
Exhaling, you rest your head in the crook of Steve’s neck and curl into him. He pulls you in closer, as he’s always done, and eventually you fall asleep, exhausted from everything.
Steve isn’t sure how long you sleep in his arms, his muscles ache from holding you, but he accepts the burn as punishment for the hurt he’s caused you. He sits there, staring at the metal walls, and falls asleep himself.
–
You wake up to Dustin trying to contact someone on his radio. His annoyingly loud voice causes you to groan in annoyance, you’re warm, comfortable, and had been dreaming about something that left your chest feeling light.
“Code red, I repeat, code red. Does anyone copy?”
Rolling over, a pair of arms hold you near a sturdy body, and you remember now that you fell asleep in Steve’s arms. Burying your face deeper into his chest, you groan again. “Make him shut up.”
“Good morning to you too, Y/N.” Dustin kicks your sneaker before going back to his radio. “This is a code red, I repeat, a code red. Does anyone copy?”
Steve sighs, sounding just as tired as you feel. “The kid has been at this for the last hour or so. Woke me up, too.”
You hear Dustin’s footsteps as he paces. “We are innocent children and we are trapped under Starcourt Mall. The Red Army has infiltrated Hawkins.”
“‘The Red Army’ is dramatic.” You mumble, still mourning that you’ve been woken up.
Dustin ignores you. “If we are found, they will torture and kill us.”
“How peachy.”
Steve snaps his fingers at your brother, motioning for him to shut up. “Hey, you gotta take it easy on that thing. Gonna drain the battery.”
“That’s what we’re worried about right now?”
“Go back to sleep, Y/N.” Dustin kicks your sneaker again with a scoff. “The mall just opened, so someone could be in range.”
Steve rolls his eyes. “What, you think Petey the Mall Cop is gonna rappel down here and save the day?”
You give a thumbs up to what the teen has just said. “‘Rappel’, good word choice there.”
“Alright, why are you two such cranky pants after getting to spend the night together?” Dustin asks, off put by your snarkiness. He knows you’ve never really been a morning person, but your face is still buried in Steve’s chest and you haven’t looked at Dustin since waking up.
“Shut up, Dustin.” You and Steve say at the same time, both too drained to entertain his usual teasing.
Your brother sighs and changes the subject. “I heard you guys talking all night, did you at least figure out a way out of here?”
You shift in Steve’s arms, now uncomfortable. Neither of you had talked about what to do next, for once you had been selfish and put yourself first, allowing yourself to cry. Sensing the brewing guilt, Steve covers for you both. “No, we’re still exactly nowhere, which is, ya know, probably just a little bit of the reason why we’re feeling just a tad cranky.”
“What he said,” you hide a smile in Steve’s chest, but he feels it anyways.
Then, because he’s Steve and is physically incapable of allowing you a moment of peace, he taps your shoulder. “Hey, uh. Not to ruin this, but can you get up so I can pee?”
“Here?” You and Dustin exclaim in unison, both of you equally disgusted.
“Well where else am I supposed to go?”
“Ugh,” you wrinkle your nose and get up, hating that Steve has a point. However, rather than stay and watch the guy pee, you decide to leave and check up on Erica and Robin. You’ve been up here long enough, anyways. “Keep your body fluids away from me.”
As you climb down, you hear Steve screaming at Dustin to turn away as your brother wishes you a happy birthday.
They’re such idiots sometimes.
“Did I just hear Dustin screech about someone’s birthday?” Robin asks you as you jump down the last box and join her side. She’s in front of the elevator’s panel, inspecting the buttons.
You wince, not liking the reminder of what today is. “It’s… my birthday.”
Robin gasps and grabs at your hand. “Is it actually? Oh my God–” She’s cut off by the sound of liquid splattering against a wall, and with horror the two of you realize that it’s Steve’s piss. Making a face, the girl calls out, “Can you redirect your stream, please?”
Slowly Steve aims away, the sound trickling against another wall now, and you share a disgusted look with Robin. With a sigh, she squeezes your hand. “If we make it out of here alive, I promise I’ll throw you the best birthday party ever.”
“I don’t know, I think Steve peeing five feet away from me will be pretty hard to beat.”
Robin laughs and you feel okay for a moment, enjoying the small respite, before the sound of glass banging against metal catches your attention. Turning around, you find Erica slamming one of the vials of liquid against the bars, and immediately you and Robin run to stop her.
“Hey, be careful!” Robin snatches the cylinder from the girl and tosses it to you for safekeeping. “We don’t even know what that is.”
“Exactly, it could be useful.” Erica argues.
You hold the vial up high so that she can’t reach; you know the Sinclairs, they’re speedy little devils. “Please elaborate.”
“We can survive down here a long time without food,” Erica jumps and tries to grab what you’ve taken, but you only hold the liquid further out of her reach. “But if the human body doesn’t get water, it will die.”
You’re momentarily impressed by the girl’s survival knowledge, but Robin is undeterred. “I hate to break it to you, but this is not water.”
“No, but it’s a liquid, and if it comes down to me drinking that shit or dying of thirst, I drink.”
“You are fascinating,” you breathe out, both terrified and in awe. As you stare at Erica in wonder, Robin seems to hear something and leaves your side to press her ear against the opposite wall. Frowning, you join her. “What is it?”
“Listen.”
You do as you’re told and press your own ear against the wall, and it only takes you a second to hear it too. Mechanical whirling, the same sound that you heard last night before all the walls in the elevator came crashing down and trapped you. “Shit.”
Robin nods grimly. “You get Erica while I warn the boys.”
Within a minute you’ve helped Erica climb the top of the elevator as you all hide up there. No sooner than when you’ve closed the roof’s opening, one side of the metal wall begins to open and the footsteps of men can be heard.
Through the grates, you and Steve hunch over as you watch two men walk into the elevator. They’re big, dressed in a bizarre uniform, and one of them is smoking. They talk about something, their words are terse, and for a moment you worry they’ve figured out that you’re hidden above, but eventually they grab a few boxes and make their way outside.
As the men move back and forth below you, grabbing more and more boxes, you look up at Steve and find him staring at the green liquid you still have in your hands. During the frantic rush to get Erica to safety, you had forgotten to set the chemicals down. His eyes narrow slightly, as if asking you if you’re thinking what he is, and distantly you remember how much force the cylinder seemed to be able to withstand when Erica was slamming it.
If you truly are on the same page as Steve, then it’s a fucking risky plan, but it’s the only chance you have.
You hand the vial to him and nod, silently urging him to be safe. Then, you turn to the others and risk whispering what you and Steve have thought of. He keeps watch, hand on the small of your back to indicate to you when to stop talking, and soon the plan is formed.
The moment the Russian men have left the elevator, Steve quickly jumps down from the roof and slides the chemicals underneath the rapidly closing door. You watch nervously, and when the cylinder miraculously holds up against the metal door, you exhale in relief. Steve waves for you and everyone else to jump down as well. “Let’s go!”
You jump down first and slide Erica’s backpack over to Steve before helping her down. Once she successfully slides under the door, you help Dustin down next. The glass starts to splinter under the pressure, the sound of it creaking fills you with dread, but you push the fear down and help Robin next. “Go, go, go!”
When it’s your turn, you hold your breath and will yourself to slide underneath the door to join the others. As you go under, you see the glass start to splinter even more, and you quickly roll onto your stomach and frantically wave at Steve. “Steve, you need to hurry!”
He scrambles underneath the door and only just manages to narrowly escape as the door comes slamming down. Steve instinctively covers you with his body as the glass from the vial shatters, and when you look up and see the green liquid now sizzling as it burns through the concrete floor, you shudder. “You guys see that too, right?”
“Jesus Christ.” Steve stands up and offers you his hand as he inspects the liquid’s damage.
Erica, Robin, and Dustin step forward now too, and the five of you peer over the liquid as it oozes and bubbles, melting everything it touches. You shudder again, you can’t believe that there were boxes full of it surrounding you earlier.
“You still wanna drink that?” Robin turns Erica, smirking.
“You guys think it’d be like drinking lava?” You ask the group, and everyone shakes their heads at you. Adrenaline is still coursing through you, your head feels woozy from lack of sleep and water, and you think you’re slowly losing your mind.
Meanwhile Dustin turns away from you, and when he sees what surrounds you all, his heart drops. “Holy mother of God.”
Turning around, your heart drops as well. There’s a giant hallway that faces you, blue lights illuminating it, and it stretches deep into the abyss. You realize, now, that the elevator had been only the beginning. As you stare down the endless hallway, its length reminiscent of the tunnels you almost died in last year, it hits you that you’ve truly stumbled upon something horrible.
The Russians have been here a long, long time if they were able to build such a vast and complex underground facility.
And now you’re trapped within it, with nothing but your knives to keep you and everyone else safe.
“Well, hope you guys are in good shape.” Steve’s voice breaks you from your thoughts. He pats Dustin’s shoulder and starts to lead the way. “Looking at you, roast beef.”
Unamused with the insult directed at your brother and still angry at the teen for dragging you into this mess in the first place, you trip Steve. He stumbles and only just barely manages to catch himself, which everyone snickers at and Dustin high fives you.
With a sigh, Steve grabs your hand and beckons for everyone to follow. “Let’s go, guys.”
–
It’s a goddamn long walk.
You’re miserable.
It’s hot, you’re covered in sweat and grime, you're starving, and this is officially the worst birthday ever. Sure, you’ve never really liked your birthday, but holy fuck you didn’t think it’d be this bad.
You’re snappier than usual with everyone, which a part of you feels guilty for. Robin tried making conversation in the beginning, but you only responded with curt, one word answers. It truly isn’t her fault, none of this is anyone’s fault, but the anger that simmers within you threatens to boil over and you’re too tired to control it.
Yet Steve keeps your hand within his and walks by your side, unaffected by your unusual anger. He lets you remain quiet, he doesn’t take offense to your terse responses, and he smiles apologetically at Robin for you because he knows you’d do the same if you were able to; he’s there for you.
Steve knows how much anger resides within you, and he helps you brave it.
You love him endlessly for it.
“You think they built this whole mall so they could transport that green poison?” Steve asks the group as they speculate about why the Russians even built this underground system in the first place.
“I very seriously doubt it’s something as boring as poison.” Dustin responds, and you scoff at him.
“Yeah, because poison is boring.”
He looks at you warily and decides not to risk further exasperation. “What I mean is, it’s gotta be much more valuable, like promethium or something.”
“What the hell is promethium?” Steve looks to you, but you only shake your head. Dustin’s the science whiz, not you.
Instead Robin answers him, though her response about some guy named Victor Stone and a cyborg only confuses both you and Steve more.
“You’re all so nerdy, it makes me physically ill.” Erica cringes with disgust, and her theatrics are hard to resist smiling at.
“No, no.” Steve interjects. “No, don’t lump me in with them. I’m not a nerd, alright?”
“Why so sensitive, Harrington?” Robin asks him, smiling at his offense. “Afraid of losing cool points to a ten year old child?”
“He takes his cool points very seriously, Robin.” You now speak up, a slight smile on your face. You’ll never pass up an opportunity to tease Steve. Nudging him with your shoulder, you laugh softly and glance up at him. “Admit it, you’re a nerd.”
If it were anyone else saying this, Steve would adamantly refuse such a notion, but it’s you and you’re finally smiling at him again, so instead he huffs with amusement. “Yeah, alright. Maybe I am, but I still don’t know jack shit about Prometheus.”
“Promethium,” Dustin corrects. “Prometheus is a Greek mythological figure, but whatever. All I’m saying is, it’s probably being used to make something.”
“Or power something?” In their eerie fashion, Robin and your brother now seem to once again be on the same page.
“Like a nuclear weapon?”
“Totally.”
You rub the temples of your head and sigh, your previously brightened mood quickly dims again. “Cool. Nuclear weapons are cool.”
Robin mumbles a quick sorry to you, she wishes she could change the topic, but there’s a question that’s been on her mind ever since you discovered the Russians. “But if they’re building something, why here? I mean, Hawkins. Seriously, of all places.”
As Robin continues to drone on about how bizarre of a choice Hawkins is, you, Steve, and Dustin all slow down and let her and Erica walk ahead. They don’t notice your guys’ sudden change of pace, and the three of you slowly come together; you know you’re all thinking the same thing.
The question has been on your mind for a while, too.
“You think the Russians know?” Dustin finally asks in a lowered voice.
Steve leans forward, his own voice lowered as well. “About–”
“They could.”
“So it’s all connected?”
While the boys whisper to one another, you feel a shiver run through you. Again you remember the sweat that had been on Billy’s brow and how pale he had been. You remember Will’s fearfulness at Weathertop hill, how he had clutched the back of his neck. You remember Mrs. Waters, Jonathan and Nancy, Mrs. Driscoll.
Something isn’t right, and now there’s Russians in Hawkins with a giant maze of high architectural design.
“It has to be.” You say now. “There’s too much to ignore. “
Dustin frowns at you. “What do you mean? Is there something else?”
“The Upside Down, I think there’s something wrong–”
You’re interrupted by Robin. “I’m sorry, is there something you’d like to share with the class?”
The three of you turn to her, wide eyed and caught, and before you can come up with some excuse to get her off your backs’, Dustin’s radio comes to life as a Russian man’s voice speaks through it.
“Walkie,” you, Steve, and Dustin say at the same time, running towards where it resides in Erica’s backpack.
The Russian continues to drone through the walkie’s speakers as Dustin takes it out and Robin extends its antenna. She brings it close to her ear and listens intently, and after a few seconds she starts to speak the language as well, echoing what the man is saying. “It’s the code,” she finally says.
“Wherever that broadcast is coming from–”
“It’s close.” Robin finishes your brother’s sentence. “And if there’s one thing we know about that signal…”
Dustin’s eyes light up. “It can reach the surface.”
“We’ll be able to call for help,” you breathe out, hopeful yet reluctant. It’s your only way out, but you also have no idea what lies within these walls.
“Let’s go!” Robin quickly stands up, plan already formed in her head, and all you can do is follow.
It doesn’t take long to figure out where the broadcast is coming from. Within a few minutes of walking, the walls begin to narrow and you hear more and more voices up ahead. You can sense that you’re drawing closer to the main area of the underground complex, and the closer you get, the tighter you clutch at your knives.
You and Steve work together on guiding everyone. He scouts for places to hide while you keep an eye out for any danger. Slowly, the six of you dodge and weave in and out from corners, avoiding Russians. In an odd sense, the routine is familiar and comforting; you and Steve have done this a million times before, the two of you know how to keep the other safe.
As Steve peers over a corner with the rest of you hiding behind him, Robin whispers into your ear. “How are the two of you so good at navigating scary dangerous situations?”
Her question is innocent enough, but you can sense that she’s piecing things together bit by bit. You try to keep your face neutral, not give anything away, and shrug at her. “We make a good team, I guess.”
Robin gags at this, which you’re thankful for. At least your response got her mind off of things.
Steve motions for everyone to follow after him once the coast is clear after a few guards have walked past. “Clear, come on, let’s go.”
He moves swiftly as you stay behind and make sure the rest of the group follows. Robin looks nervously at you, feeling vulnerable out in the open. “Okay, that was close.”
“Too close.” Dustin breathes out as he follows her, which you roll your eyes at. You and Steve are doing the best that you can, given the circumstances. If your brother wanted to worry about safety, he should’ve considered it twenty hours ago.
“Relax,” Steve reassures everyone. “Nobody saw…” His voice trails off as he rounds the corner.
Your jaw drops. It’s worse than you could’ve ever imagined.
In front of you is what you can only imagine is the main hub of the complex. There’s Russians everywhere, some dressed in guard uniforms carrying shotguns, some dressed in lab coats, and others look like glorified red astronauts.
You’re hopelessly outnumbered, there’s too many of them.
Steve curses and ducks down, pulling everyone with him as he hides behind a cart against the wall. You try to steady your breathing, you grip the back of Dustin’s shirt tightly in your hand. He looks at you in shock. “Red Dawn.”
“Not now,” you close your eyes and breathe in through your nose and exhale out your mouth. “I’m trying really hard not to lose yesterday’s lunch.”
“I saw it. First floor, northwest.” Erica urgently whispers to Steve.
“Saw what?”
“The comms room.”
You whip your head around to face the girl, making your nausea even worse, and Steve can’t believe what he’s hearing. “You saw the comms room?”
“Correct!” Erica leans closer now, the insistence in her voice unwavering.
Dustin frowns. “Are you sure?”
“Positive,” this is the most sincere you’ve ever seen Erica. “The door was open for a second, and I saw a bunch of lights and machines and shit in there.”
“That could be a hundred different things.” Dustin says, skeptical.
However, you believe Erica. She’s incredibly pragmatic, she wouldn’t blindly say something that she didn’t believe in. She’s a Sinclair, their morals define them, and Erica’s rant about capitalism and a free market system yesterday only solidifies your theory that she hides away most of her intelligence. “If Erica thinks she saw the comms room, then I believe her.”
She smiles at you gratefully, and Robin nods her head at the two of you. “If Y/N is on board, then I’ll take those odds.”
Steve stares at you, studies your face and your demeanor, and when he sees the set clench of your jaw and the determination in your eyes, he knows he trusts whatever call you make. He pokes his head out from behind the cart, the five of you mimic him, and even though you’re firm in your stance to follow Erica’s gut, it still strikes terror within you when you see once again how many guards there are.
Sighing tiredly, Steve faces the group. “We’re gonna move fast, we’re gonna stay low. Okay?”
You nod at him. “Good luck.”
Steve smiles at you, nerves now calmed, and starts to guide everyone. He masterfully weaves in and out corners, ducks behind carts when someone walks past, and for a brief moment you’re in awe of him. He’s grown so much since that night at Jonathan’s, when he had run away the second things got too intense, and now he’s the one leading.
When he opens the door to the comms room, you’re almost overwhelmed with how proud you are of Steve. Then, naturally, as soon as everyone is inside, you turn around and come face to face with a very confused Russian guard.
And Steve has locked you in a room with him.
Everyone freezes, unsure what to do.
“Nice, Steve.” You sneer at him.
He looks at you incredulously. “Is now really the time?”
As you mock Steve, the Russian guard starts to reach for the gun at his side. Seeing this, you whip your knives out and display them to the man, the blades glint in the room’s red light. He narrows his eyes at you and tightens his grip on his own weapon, and for a moment you fear that you really will have to use your switchblade.
However, Robin is quick on her feet and puts her hand up to lower your knives. She starts speaking Russian in hopes of calming the guard down, and it seems to work at first, but when the guard starts speaking back to her, Robin’s plan quickly crumbles; it’s painfully obvious that she doesn’t speak the language.
The guard reaches for his gun once more, and before you can use your knives, Steve lets out a loud yell and throws himself at the guy, taking him by surprise.
“Steve!” You find yourself screaming, it’s instinctual.
For a moment all you can do is stand there and watch, stunned. The two men begin to fight, fists hitting skin as they shove one another, and you have just enough awareness to keep your knives raised in case you need to step in and help. You know Steve’s track record, yet as the fight progresses, you become less and less fearful for him. He’s holding his own surprisingly well.
Steve jabs his elbow into the guard’s stomach before grabbing a nearby intercom phone and slams it into the guy’s head. He falls, hard, onto the electric panel and hits the side of his head against it even harder.
The moment he lands on the ground, the Russian guard is out cold.
Panting, Steve stands over him and fixes his hair. You and Dustin exchange surprised looks, both of you ecstatic; Steve won.
“Dude!” Dustin exclaims with glee in his voice. “You won a fight!”
“It’s a miracle,” you breathe out in awe, now at Steve’s side as you check for any injuries. He preens at your attention, his eyes glow, and you can’t help but kiss his check. “Good job, honey.”
“Okay, okay, break it up.” Dustin shoves you away from Steve and then crouches next to the guard’s body, unhooking the keys from his belt loop. You roll your eyes at him while Erica questions what he’s doing. Over his shoulder, he responds, “Getting us our ticket out of here.”
Erica scoffs. “You want to walk all the way back?”
“Well, we can hang out for a little bit, relax, have a picnic maybe.”
“Have a picnic? We came here for the radio.”
The kids start to argue, but you don’t intervene. Instead, you fix Steve’s hair with your fingers and gently grab his face, moving it around to make sure he isn’t hurt. His skin is still smooth, untouched. “No bruises this time.”
He winks. “Gotta keep this face pretty for you, don’t I?”
“Yeah you do,” you pinch his cheek, laughing softly. “It’s your only redeeming quality.”
“Hey now–”
Robin suddenly appears, looking panicked. You quickly let go of Steve’s face and walk towards her, now noticing the staircase that she’s just come from. There’s blue light at the top, there’s an energy to it that makes you uneasy, yet it’s familiar.
“What is it?” You ask her, fearing that you already know.
“There’s something up there.”
You follow her up the stairs, and your heart drops at what you see. Steve sucks in a breath, his hand on your back.
There’s a room at the top of the stairs, similar to the one below, and there are several men sitting at control panels. Before them is a giant machine, its circular panel spins as it shoots a beam of light into what you can only describe as an open wound within the wall. It’s narrow, long in length, as orange light spills from it.
When Steve’s eyes meet yours, you both know.
It’s the gate.
The Russians have found the gate into the Upside Down.
Anger courses through you, and this anger is a familiar one. It’s the same anger you felt the day Will went missing, when El sacrificed her life to save everyone, when the men at Hawkins Lab continuously got away with ruining the lives of everyone you love.
After everything you, the kids, and everyone else went through to close the gate, it enrages you to see these fucking idiots trying to reopen it. You had almost died last year trying to end this bullshit, but now you see it had been for nothing.
The side of your ribcage burns, the scar reignited by your fury, and Steve feels your body tense against his. His eyes meet yours again, and without saying anything, you know he understands.
Nodding, the two of you are in agreement.
You have to stop this.
-
⌑ series masterlist
⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)
⌑ taglist: @siriuslysmoking @sheisjoeschateau @thytorturedpoet @innercreationflower @juhdoche @frostandflamesfanfic @goosy-goose @quinnsadilla @munsons-queen @stefansring @rice-elephant @bex22109 @bitchkeery @bex22109 @officerrrfriendly @kazunish @idkitsem @emilieluckwood @ryoujoking @criesinlies @tagakalat @dcnerd98 @sucker-4-angst @kitdjarin1 @onecojg @innazra @areiofhope @spaghetittied @cultish-corner @g8sstuff @videogamesandpoorlifechoices @moonpascal @l0ve-0f-my-life @newyorkangelbaby @aliceespector @chervbs @poppet055 @bookkeeperlove @bellenotthebeast @swiftieblyth @ladyobscurus @moon-flowerrs @estaticheart @dreamingofts18 @lanxsee @thecapricunt1616 @aheadfullofsteverogers @marvel-and-music @angie2274 @thescoopstroopers @xuimhao @rh1nestonecowg1rl @shelby-ren @carinacassiopeiae @eddiemunson-86-baby @ribbetzetoad @harryssideboobz @cherrycherry19 @mamamakaylamorgan23 @slttygeto @alltoomay @hiraethavis @torntaltos @eeniemeenie @latenightreadingpdf @gayandfairycore @aliceespector @l0ca1ax010t1 @whosyourgnomie
#steve harrington x henderson!reader#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#stranger things#steve harrington fanfic#stranger things rewrite#slowburn#angst#nya#m's writing#steve and bug are really going through it this chapter#but happy birfday bug !!!
195 notes
·
View notes
Text
Marina, +18, Joel Miller/Reader
Summary: On vacation with your father and his new wife, you seek revenge in the arms of an older sailor. Pure porn, no plot.
MAIN MASTERLIST maybe you'll find sth interesting
Warnings: oral s*x (female receiving), unprotected s*x (because this is fiction and not real life), a teeny tiny little bit of degradation I guess? (Reader asks to be called sl*t),
panties used as a gag, pretty vanilla tbh, Reader is over 18, however old you want her to be, she is wearing a dress, Joel is older, unspecified age gap.
You were lying on your back, looking at the wooden ceiling of the cabin. Your yellow summer dress was being pulled up your thighs. Joel, the sexy older man you had met in the marina, spread your knees and ran his scruffy cheek along your inner thigh. One of his massive hands slid up to find the hem of your panties. The other one joined promptly and he took off your underwear quite roughly. You trembled in anticipation and tangled your fingers into his hair when he was busy planting wet kisses on your abdomen. Your hand tried to urge him to stop teasing you, but it was clear he was going to play by his own rules.
Finally, you felt his hot breath on your wet labia. He licked you, starting at the bottom, finishing right on your clit. You moved one of your legs, impatiently pressing into his shoulder. He grabbed your leg with one hand and pressed on it.
"So impatient," he muttered into your core and you sighed.
"Come on, please!"
"Mmm, princess, you know what I should do? Gag you with those tiny little panties, you're distracting me," he tried to reason with you, his brown eyes devouring your half naked silhouette.
"Please do it," you begged before your brain could register what was happening.
"Really?" He wanted to make sure.
"I like it a little rough... I think..."
"You think?" He asked.
The truth was you didn't really know. You had always been too shy and insecure to have ever told your partners what you wanted. This time was going to be different. It was your first ever one night stand and you were going to do it right. And by right you meant that you were going to enjoy it. No shame, no guilt, no regret. At least that was what you were telling yourself. So you nodded.
"Oh b-before you do that..."
You sat up on the bed, instinctively adjusting your dress so that it would cover you.
"It should be easy for you to just spit out. Or tap the bed three times and I'll stop. That alright with you, darlin'?"
There was something about that you couldn't quite pin down, but it was easy for you to trust him. That's why you found yourself on his boat, in that cozy, narrow cabin, on the king sized bed. Half naked.
The way he looked at you made your insides flutter. It was unbelieveable to you that you actually wanted to be vulnerable with that man. It was unthinkable. Yet... you had to ask.
"Are there other names you want to call me?" You wondered.
"Like what? I'll call you anything you want," he promised, carressing your thigh with one hand, squeezing your panties in the other.
"Even... something bad?"
You watched his reaction.
"Ohh," he hummed with understanding. "I got myself a bad girl."
He took your knees and spread them again. You felt his finger at your opening, smearing your slick wettness along your mound.
"I found a little slut today," he smirked at you and you nodded.
Maybe you weren't into rough sex normally? Maybe this situation made you crave it? Maybe it was his intimidating persona that made you think all those thoughts. It was all very naughty to you. He was easily twenty years older than you, looking better than any other man on Earth and he was about to fuck you. Really, truly fuck you.
Suddenly, you found yourself on your back again, looking at the already familiar knag on the ceiling. Joel was hovering over you, holding your jaw lightly. You obeyed him and he put your damp panties in your mouth. You felt a little self conscious for a second, but then Joel's nose pressed against your throbbing clit. Oh damn.
The rest was a blur. He started lapping at your wettness, making obscene noises. His tongue moved expertly, right where you wanted it. Your fingers were massaging his head, trying to press him harder into you. You were a panting mess, a little slut, gagged on a stranger's bed in a shady part of the marina. The tension inside you was building, about to explode any minute. After a few expert moves you came, choking him, trapping between your trembling legs.
Your body finally relaxed and Joel hovered over you, his lips and scruff were covered in your juices.
"How's my slut feeling?" He asked, clearly expecting an answer, but did nothing to remove the makeshift gag.
You wondered for a split second if you should take it out yourself, but you just said "amazing" with it still in, making an incoherent noise.
"Such a good bad girl, who would have thought?"
You were suspecting that he didn't actually think you were a bad girl. Judging by his... performance it all was probably very vanilla for him.
"Fuck me," you said, enjoying the sound of your own muffled voice.
"What are you saying?"
"FUCK ME!" you mumbled loudly.
"I'm sorry," he said.
He knelt on the bed and unzipped his pants, then he quickly pulled them down, together with his boxers. His impressive length sprung out and it was definitely bigger than what you had expected. It looked bigger than your big dildo and in your experience real humans never had those dimensions.
"No idea what you're saying, but I'm lovin' it" he muttered, smearing precum around his tip.
"Are you gonna make those noises now too?" He wondered.
He placed himself above you and nuzzled your entrance with the tip.
"I asked you," he admonished. "Are you gonna make those noises now? Now that I'm feeding your needy pussy with my cock, hmm?"
"Mhmm!" You responded this time, nodding your head frantically, desperately wanting to feel more of him.
"Perfect little slut," he commented.
His dick slid along your labia a few times, smearing the wettness around. He pressed the tip into your opening and you whined, wrapping both of your hands around his strong, still clothed torso. The white shirt he was wearing was starting to cling to his body, but it was only the beginning.
Your walls stretched around him, wet, warm and welcoming. He slid in carefully, slowly, filling you to the brim, making you hum with pleasure. You had a feeling he liked it when you moaned behind the gag so you decided not to refrain yourself from making noises.
The depths of you he managed to reach were now tingling, each move, each stroke was bringing you closer and closer to yet another orgasm. Your legs were pulling him closer to you, your nails were tracing patterns on the damp, white shirt. Your strangled noises weren't enough for you anymore, but you struggled to spit out the gag. Finally you helped yourself a little with your hand, pulling your underwear out of your mouth in between strokes.
"Fuck!" was the first word you said or maybe moaned and it came out much louder than you intended.
You were starting to lose your rhythm, or maybe Joel was, or the both of you.
"I'm- I'm feeling you so deep inside me," you whimpered, rocking your hips into him, desperate for more.
"I know," he panted into your ear in a condescending tone. "You are taking it so well, so fucking well," he groaned. "You're taking it like a real slut, I know it's a lot, I know..."
His thrusts were powerful, forceful even, and you encouraged him with little moans.
"I know, it's okay little slut, it's okay, nothing you can't take..."
"Fuck! Fuck, Joel!"
It hit you like a truck.
Your walls fluttered around him, tightening, squeezing him. He moved a few times before spilling his seed into you, filling you, painting your insides. Your fucked raw pussy milked him dry. He collapsed on top of you instead of simply pulling out and you pulled him even closer to your chest.
He hummed in content, nuzzling your neck with his nose, tickling you with his facial hair.
"You're something else, darlin'," he gasped into your ear, his spent, sweaty body was still pressing you into the mattress making you feel safe and relaxed, like a warm, breathing weighted blanket.
"You're not bad either," you whispered.
Breathing deeply, with your muscles relaxed, with calloused fingertips gently tracing invisible patterns on your skin you felt your eyelids getting heavier and heavier.
"I don't wanna go," you confessed sleepily.
"Then don't."
Then don't. Simple as that.
You wondered what it would be like. Travelling on his little boat, stopping in marinas, sunbathing on the deck all day, fucking relentlessly all night... You felt a pang of pain at the concept, like you were missing it, mourning a mere idea, nothing more than an efemeral thought.
You decided to indulge yourself, drifting deeper into thought, falling asleep under the weight of Joel, the sailor who rocked your world like the sea rocks such tiny little boats.
The end.
Thank you for reading :) Comments are very appreciated.
~missannwinchester
#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fic#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller tlou#joel x reader
176 notes
·
View notes
Text
Types of Dogs I Think The Obey Me Brothers Would Have
Disclaimer: i know nothing about dog breeds other than my dog is better than every other dog in the world because i said so.
this is all obviously my opinion because im 100% not holding off looking at my inbox for requests rn 😰
(wee emo anon + réalta and then the other random one ilysm for not doxing me fir being atleast a month late and not having even started with your reqs yet🙏🙏🙏)
post dividers by @saradika-graphics, images of the brothers below the divider are from amias on pinterest + all animal photos found on pinterest
LUCIFER
Irish Wolfhound
He already has a dog who he obviously loves very much (Cerberus) who is a hellhound, so he thought to himself that another hound would be a good idea since Cerberus gets lonely sometimes :(
He calls the dog 'Tuireann' because he thinks he's fucking funny.
You know that stereotype of the dad not wanting the dog but the dad ends up loving the dog like its his own child or something?
If you do know, then you know Lucifer.
Tuireann gets on very well with Cerberus. Lucifer makes a commitment to taking breaks more often and taking both out on walks, which terrifies his brothers, but has made Diavolo very happy with him. (Yay Lucifer taking care of himself for once!)
He cuddles up to both of them more often. Both dogs are very happy.
Will kill for his dogs btw :)
Laughed one time when Tuireann saw Solomon as a threat.
MAMMON
Golden Retriever
Someone told him he could win 'gold' at a casino. So he gambled, ended up winning (for once) and got his 'gold'.
This man was almost outraged when the 'gold' in question was a golden retriever puppy.
He was about to say something in outrage, then the witch plopped the little guy down into his arms and her little nose started sniffing at his exposed collarbone. He closed his open, outraged mouth and pet the little thing, blinking back small tears because it was so cute.
Mammon would like to argue that this did not happen but it did. The witch in question has proof and has sent Lucifer the video in apology for trying to summon him. Said witch is now a good acquaintance of Lucifer's, and has not been punished brutally. She has learnt her lesson and will not attempt to make a pact with the Avatar of Pride ever again. *Unlike Solomon. That bastard never learns.)
Mammon probably calls the dog something like 'Bailey'
He was originally going to call her 'Goldie' but then remembered that was his credit card's name. So he thought about the name 'Retrievie' but even to him that sounded fucking stupid.
He loves this dog so much and buys her so much dog toys and treats.
Gets his crows to play with her.
Mammon basically is a Golden Retriever if you think about it. (A Golden Retriever with mental issues that thinks its an awesome scary dragon or something, but a golden retriever none-the-less.)
He buys Bailey a bed but she literally only sleeps on him or on his bed.
When he lets her out into the garden while he's busy he always has atleast 2 crows watching her/playing with her.
He tries to train her to dig for buried treasure. Instructions unclear, they both dug up the whole back garden. He now has to fix the garden.
They say that a 'Dog is a Man's Best Friend', but this dog is Mammon's whole life.
There is dog hair all over this man. Atleast he's not an emo and doesn't wear all black.
Hair rollers are a must.
He cries when they're separated for more than a day in case you were wondering.
LEVIATHAN
Kokoni
Lucifer gave him it in an attempt to get Levi to touch grass once in a while.
At first Levi was scared of the dog, then he decided she was cute. Watches an anime about a dog and realises he should be a responsible owner and take her out on walks!
Leviathan has now touched grass. I repeat, Leviathan has now touched grass.
Calls her 'Ruri' you know he would.
He almost called her Henry 3.0
He has to make sure Henry 2.0 is unreachable to Ruri. He's scared Ruri might eat Henry 2.0
He's still kind of scared of Ruri but loves her.
Since getting Ruri he's actually been remembering to take care of himself. As a reward, once a month for a day or two, Lucifer will take over taking care of Ruri so Levi can have one of his gaming marathons uninterrupted.
Levi plays the Devildom equivalent to pokemon go while walking Ruri
Levi rants to Ruri about the anime or manga he's currently obessed with while playing with her with some chew toy or something.
She lays beside him in his bathtub sometimes and lays her head on his lap while he watches anime.
Lucifer is very happy with this outcome. So is Levi.
SATAN
Rottweiler
He originally saw something in some article or whatever he read about Rottweilers being aggressive, possibly saying that they weren't a 'good' dog breed.
Satan knows what its like to be labelled as aggressive and unsafe, so he has sort of a soft spot for 'bad' dog breeds.
So one day, he's talking to one of his various acquaintances, and for whatever reason, they visit an animal shelter.
Satan hears another couple say they wouldn't get a dog because 'isn't that breed really aggressive?' and he feels sad, he's not mad at the couple, it's a reasonable concern, but poor dog :(.
He approaches that worker a couple of minutes after his acquaintance leaves and asks them about the rottweiler.
Long story short he walks out with it on a leash, standard food, and a bowl courtesy of the shelter.
Calls the dog 'Julie' because he had just finished pirating a preformance of Romeo and Juliet. (which he enjoyed criticising, but he liked the name Juliet and also Belphie likes the band Julie so)
He makes sure to take the time and effort to socialise Julie with cats because this is Satan we're talking about for fuck's sake.
He takes Julie on walks before stopping at a dog-friendly café in the Devildom.
Julie also sleeps on Satan's lap when she's tired and he's reading.
Satan gets a lot more into audiobooks after he adopts Julie so he can still technically 'read' without having to ignore his new pooch.
Will write several books on why she's the best girl ever, and will make you read them.
ASMODEUS
Westie
A fan gifted him a dog for his birthday for some reason. At first he accepted the gift and devised a plan to give the dog away but the shelter was closed over the weekend, so he elected to let the dog stay with him until then.
Ends up getting attached. This is his baby now.
Calls her 'Angel' because he thinks she's an angel. She also kind of reminds him of Luke so.
This little rat is all over his Devilgram.
So much so there are fanclubs for her now.
This little rat has fanclubs.
Angel gets walked everyday. Asmo loves the excerise and says its done wonders for his skin.
He doesn't like when she digs, but oh well.
Loves grooming her.
Cuddles galore.
He trains her how to do tricks.
His excitable nature really goes well with hers, and they really bond.
The fan that gave her to him is now one of his friends.
He loves that rat.
BEELZEBUB
Bernese Mountain Dog
Two words. 'Gentle Giant'
He probably names her something like 'Bernie'
Bernese Mountain Dogs are massive, I feel like Beel would be the type of guy who loves big dogs. Given how big this Demon is, I feel like he'd be scared of hurting a smaller dog. He probably got an already adult rescue from a shelter.
It was one of those cliche things, meeting eyes with this big sad dog in a cage and Beel just knowing, "This is my baby."
Bernese Mountain Dogs DROOL, and I feel like Beel wouldn't mind that seeing as he is the Avatar of Gluttony.
Speaking of being the Avatar of Gluttony, Beel's dog 100% gives him puppy eyes while he's sitting at the table eating, and what does Beel do? He sneaks his dog food under the table.
Given his workout schedule this doggo gets atleast one walk a day. ATLEAST.
Beel one hundred percent cuddles up with that dog. You thought he had a mental bond with Belphie? Well that man has a mental connection of that caliber with his dog.
He is covered in dog hair but he sees that as making him part of the pact with Bernie so he couldn't care less. (He does clean up shed hair with a roller when going out though)
Bernie might've been a rescue and maybe could've lived a hard life before Beel adopted her, but Beel loves her like she's his own child that is his BABY.
BELPHEGOR
Shiba Inu
It reminded him of Beel, okay??!
Normally Belphie can't be bothered with animals, but when he saw the ad saying 'FOR SALE: NEEDS BETTER HOME' and saw that closed eye Beel smile his grinchy little heart grew three sizes that day.
He adopts the dog.
He calls her something like, 'Bella'
No thats not because it sounds like Beel. Piss off.
Bella isn't too high maintenence and actually does well for Belphie's productivity.
The seventh born actually goes on regular (though albeit) short walks with Bella.
Beel bonds with the dog as well and is very happy to take her on his morning runs with him.
Bella is affectionate but fucking stubborn. (Just like Belphie if you think about it)
Sometimes while cuddling (which only happen on Bella's terms by the way), she will not get off of Belphie, no matter how much Belphie asks. (Not that he minds, its an extra excuse to be lazy)
The cuddling in question is literally just Bella laying on top of Belphie like she's some sort of cat.
Bella is more of a brat than Belphie and thats saying something. The man spoils her.
Finally, a being (other than you and Beel) that understands him.
as you can tell I love big dogs and think small dogs are little rats. (said affectionately)
all of these dogs are female btw bc i got humped by my cousins dog recently and i wish that pain on no one. not even my worst enemy (which is solomon btw)
by the way unhinged anon im still waiting for you to go through with that threat 🤨🤨
#im eepy#obey me shall we date#obey me imagines#obey me headcanons#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me fluff#obey me hcs
76 notes
·
View notes
Text
"Watcha doing, little one? Why are you coming into my room? You know the only reason you're allowed in here is if you need your diaper changed. Are you wet?"
You propped yourself up from your hands and knees so that you could submit to Michelle's humiliating diaper check.
Michelle was your 'Big'. After several drunken disorderlies around campus, and a reputation for sleeping with (and fucking over) several girls at the dorm, you were quickly labeled as a 'problematic student'.
It happens to a lot of incoming Freshman and Sophomores. Their first few years at college, without supervision, some don't know how to handle the freedom and end up abusing it.
So, in an effort to alleviate the problem and keep the campus/dormitory looking good, a program was established to help students better transition into their adult life. These problematic students obviously weren't ready to be adults, and they must need 'parental' supervision because, without it, they apparently didn't know how to behave.
Seniors in good standing would be assigned a 'little' that needed correction. They would monitor, counsel, and sometimes punish their little to make sure they were making proper choices. But, call a spade a spade: they were basically your glorified babysitter.
The program quickly evolved, with each dorm finding more and more...successful methods of rehabilitating their peers.
The powers that be at the University simply looked the other way. After all, constantly expelling students made them look bad, they couldn't develop a reputation for constantly admitting delinquents, and hazing was something that happened all the time anyway. So, they decided to leave each dorm to their own devices.
Unfortunately for you, the device at your dorm was quite possibly the most humiliating of them all. They called it the 'Crinkle Correction'. They said it served as a way to 'start fresh', by starting you over in big, fat, crinkly diapers.
You had little choice in the matter. At only 20 years of age, the citations you received for drinking could get you expelled, or worse, put in jail. Girls around campus could file reports that you abused/assaulted them (even though you didn't), and it would ruin your reputation and any chances of landing a good job. Your only choice was to man up and take it.
"My goodness you are wet!" Michelle exclaimed. "Look how plump and puffy your pamper is!"
You flushed as you knelt in front of her, wearing nothing but your soggy diaper, feeling her grope and poke every square inch of the front in order to emphasize her point.
After she was certain that your cheeks couldn't get any redder, she placed the tip of her finger into your waistband, and gently pulled back.
"D'awww! Why is it crying?" she cooed as she peeked inside, referring to your caged cock. Michelle thought it was the perfect solution to keep you from fucking every girl on campus (as if the diapers wouldn't serve the exact same purpose), "you're leaking chastity tears!" she giggled, wiggling her hips in her sweatshirt with nothing but panties underneath. She knew it drove you crazy, she liked watching you clench your legs in an attempt to stem the flow to your crotch.
She circled you, watching you tremble. You wondered if other Bigs were as dominant as her, as demeaning, or did you get unlucky in that regard too?
"Did you go poo poo too?" she sneered in her sinister voice, circling you like a lioness around her prey.
"Y-yes ma'am..." you whimpered.
Frumpp!!
A swift kick to the back of your droopy diaper, her foot perfectly landing at the base of your balls. It wasn't her first time. You groaned and collapsed forward on your hands and knees.
"Tell me." She hissed into your ear. "Tell me what you did in your diaper."
"I went poo poo's in my pampers, Mommy!!" you whined into the floor, trying your best not to sob in front of her. She'd made you call her 'Mommy' since the first day she 'adopted' you.
"Awww!! Is that what that stench is?" She asked, as if she didn't know it as soon as you crawled in. She probably could have smelled you from down the hallway.
"Yes Mommy!!" you blubbered, losing your composure. "Sorry for stinking up your room!! B-baby needed to make a boom boom!"
It was pathetic. Pitiful. But you told yourself this was your only chance of staying in college and landing a solid career.
"Hmmm...well I'm sorry, little one, but you know I don't change dirties. You're gonna have to go find an RF for that..." But that didn't stop her from pressing her hand to your padded behind and mushing the mess into your backside while you cringed and whimpered.
RF's were 'ReFormed' students that had already made it through their semester of Crinkle Correction. Having to change dirty diapers served as a reminder of what they'd been through, and how easily they could go back if they ever decide to slip up again.
You obviously knew this. You'd had to make several crawls of shame through the hallways to one of the RF's rooms. But Michelle insisted that you come show her your filthy diapers first.
"Off you go," she said, taking the pacifier dangling from your neck and putting it back in your mouth. She smiled triumphantly, turning back to finally find some bottoms to put on.
Dismissed, you begrudgingly made your way out the door.
"Come back later, loser." she called after you. "I've got some girlfriends coming over. We'll play dress-up and turn you into a wittle baby gurl!"
As if. You thought. No way you would subject yourself to that level of humiliation! But she must have read your mind.
"If you do, and you're a good wittle pwincess, I might let you borrow my vibrator!"
God damnit. You thought. I'll be there.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This was an exclusive caption on my SubStar for the past 6 months. Go there to get more captions you won't see anywhere else, full access to all of my stories, and help a great cause (my electricity bill)!!
67 notes
·
View notes
Text
tw self h@rm
hurt/comfort
sometimes you didn't know what was wrong with you. most days, you felt fine and had genuine fun, but when you get home, all hell brakes loose. you live with your mom, and she's not abusive but can have abusive emotional tendencies. Because of your mom, UA dorms were a life saver. you finally didn't have to be in that environment. at UA, you love your classmates and are a part of the self-proclaimed bakusquad, thanks to Mina and denki. You had a fine day at school, nothing triggering or bad happened, but here you are, sitting on your bathroom floor, blade in hand, swiping at your thighs and hips. it's summer, so you've started cutting more on your hips so you can wear more revealing clothes. You sit there crying for no particular reason while blood trickles down your thighs. you love the scars but hate them. you want to get better, but you want to get worse. you want to have scars, but you want to have clean skin. you have tried getting clean in the past, but to no avail. When you finished you cutting session your hips look horrible and you got a little carried away on your thighs "fuck, now I can't wear shorts for a few weeks." you think. Your bathroom is in your dorm so you walk up to your dresser to change out of your now bloody pants. *knock* *knock* "Y/N? are you in there?" you hear a gruff voice ask from behind your shut dorm door. you and bakugou have gotten closer as friends over the weeks to the point where you pesterd him into agreeing to a weekly movie night for the two of you. "shit" you look at the clock, 6:30. silently scolding yourself for losing track of time you pull on your favorite fuzzy pajama bottoms and bee line for the door. you look cute in your crop top and fuzzy pants but bakugou would never admit it aloud. you open the door "'bout damn time" he scoffs. "I thought ya fell asleep on me." You roll your eyes, and both you sit on your bed. Bakugou set down the bag of food he brought with for the movie night on your bed. You turn to pick up your room a bit while bakugou watches tiktok (he is obsessed with tiktok but won't admit it), which is normal since you've been doing this for a while. While cleaning, you don't hear anything, so you turn around to see bakugou paler than a witch staring at something. you follow his eyeline to see the pants you were wearing earlier with the blood still seeping in the seems. "fuck" you said out loud as you scurry to pick up the pants. you discard them into your hamper just as bakugou says something. "Do you hurt yourself?" he said in a chilling low tone. you sit there too stunned to speak. he probably thinks I'm weak now. great. the boy I've been in love with things. I'm a monster who can't figure out her own problems. Your silence was all he needed for him to pull you onto the bed and wrap you in his warm embrace. after a while, bakugou convinced you to let him clean out your cuts in your bathroom properly so they didn't get infected. when he finished he gave you a peck on the forehead and you two headed for the bed to finally watch the movie and cuddle. Bakugou knows he has to talk to her more about her mental health but also their relationship. However, for tonight, he would just hold her and let her cry in his shoulder.
#$elf h4rm#$h tw#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou x reader#bnha x reader#boku no hero academia#bnha#bakugo katsuki#bakugou comfort#bakugo katsuki x reader
47 notes
·
View notes
Text
Heavenly Hell 2
A/N: second chapter! no spicey here just yet. sorry!~ im not that good at writing yet. xP Tags/Warnings are added progressively, design changed/fixed with time. mostly proofread!
Summary: you have always been a fan of the show Hazbin Hotel in your life - and as you are spawned in a Hell identically matching the Show, you can't believe your sheer luck. you're immediately on your way to eagerly meet the celebrities (at least they are in your world), but your arrival hadn't gone unnoticed...
Pairings: Lucifer, Valentino, Adam, Alastor, Vox, Angel Dust, Sir Pentious, Husk x Fem!Reader
Warnings/Promises: self aware and insecure Reader, Spoilers for the Show, Vox, Attempted Manipulation, successful Manipulation
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3
Minors DNI 🚨🚔
"so, tell me, what useful information could you, someone this new to hell, possibly have?"
Vox sits down and leans back in his chair, watching you with a bored expression on his screen. urgh. right. he probably watched you spawning (arriving?) in hell. this is gonna be a hard one to explain. fiddling with your fingers anxiously, you look everywhere but at his screen.
you already regret coming here first, and not getting yourself a fidget toy first or something. or some pills to help keep your anxiety down. shit, you probably look scared out of your mind right now. he's gonna think you're really weird and rude if you speak up like this. or straight up lying. but for fucks sake - you can't bring yourself to look directly at him.
instead - you take in your surroundings. Vox's office. you only know it's impressive size from the Screenshots of the show, and literally sitting in it now is even more impressive. it consists of a gigantic room, an equally gigantic shark tank below, and a big round platform in the middle, which is connected to the door with a long passway. no idea how this could possibly fit into the tower without having it collapse from the sheer weight of the water alone - the only logical answer would be it being underground.
your eyes wander back to the platform, which is decorated with Vox's emblem. illuminated by a bright array of screens behind it, a round control pult sits at the back end of the platform. infront of it in a spinny chair with it's tips pointing upwards, is a rather impatient looking Vox seated.
oops.
you better get to answering his question.
you clear your throat and swallow, unsure how to even start. thankfully, you get your own chair - manifested with a wave of Vox's hand - to sit into. hoping you aren't sweating too visibly right now, you collect your thoughts. if you know one thing, it's not to sell yourself short.
"well, you see, that's hard to explain. and, you, as the head of.. technology.., surely understand that information is a valuable resource. I can't just.. give it away for free."
taking a deep breath, you lean back a little, trying to at least look more relaxed than you actually are. nervousness isn't even close anymore, like, are you panicking already?? well, at least you can mask it pretty well, you think.
"but I can say this much: I have so much information on Alastor," you think you hear a slight glitch coming from Vox at the mention of the name, "and the others in the Hotel, it's not even funny. Just.. I have a few small questions for you first."
a short glance up into the TV Demon's face tells you he raised an eyebrow. is he interested?? you hope he is. with all you got.
"go on, ask your questions."
wait. isn't he usually more talkative than that? nono, you can't spend a thought on that right now. you need to focus.
"When did the last extermination happen?"
"about a week ago."
"okay.. any interesting or unexpected turns of events? I just have to know what happened and what didn't. I-I know this sounds cryptic, and maybe even crazy, but I need to know at what time I got here."
silence fills the room for a moment. you dare to glance at the Overlord again, and he musters you with an expression you can't quite place.
did you mess up?
But Vox interrupts your thought before you can continue it. "... the hotel members fought back against the Angels, and won. that's all." relieved, you let out breath you didn't realize you were holding. okay. that's good to know. so the extermination already happened. it makes a good bunch of your information useless, but still. you can work with that. now you just need to-
"I think I provided enough information to you now," the Overlord begins, interrupting your thoughts again. his voice is oddly sweet. "its time you return the favor, my dear." - of course, he's trying to get the info out of you without paying for it.
how greedy.
you adjust your position on the chair, crossing one leg over the other, before looking directly at him. he's wearing his signature smile, his digital eyes looking almost affectionately at you, but you know better than to trust the façade he put on.
"I told you, I'm not going to just give it away for free. And don't even try to fob me off with stuff like any of your products, pins, an autograph or similar worthless knick-knacks. That won't work on me. Trust me."
you glance at him again to gauge his reaction, and he seems surprised to hear you use his own slogan against him, but he quickly regains his composure. good. now just don't get any hypnotizing ideas, Vox...
"No, what I want is... actually quite simple. I want to be able to come and go to the entirety of this tower how and when I please. and.." you can't help a small smile at the thought of the Moth Man, "I want to see Valentino. preferably after our conversation."
and again, silence fills the room. you watch him tap the armrest of his chair with his fingers, thinking about your demands. you can't tell if he's going to give in to them or just declare you as crazy and throw you out, but you hope dearly it's not the latter.
just as the silence begins to get uncomfortable, the TV Demon clicks his tongue and stands up. your eyes dart up, and you automatically stand up too. what's happening? is he gonna throw you out now? - "alright. I accept. you may come and go freely, I'll get you your meeting with Val, and in turn, I get all the information you got on the Hotel and it's residents. Deal?"
Staring down at the hand he holds out, your mind whirls for a moment, overwhelmed with the action. you never thought he'd also make deals like Alastor - another detail they're matching each other in. you always thought he'd just somehow get peoples souls with sneaky contracts being signed when buying a Voxtek product or something.
as soon as you take his cold hand, he gives yours a firm shake, his smile widening to a grin as his face glitches momentarily. bright blue electrical currents and sparks begin to flow around the two of you for a moment, together with an intense blue light and a metallic screech. but as soon as it came, it's gone, and before you can waste a thought on it, Vox lets go of your hand, instead placing his around your shoulders as he guides you towards the door. "fantastic. now that that's done, how about we go check if Val's got some free time for you, hmm?"
you're confused.
doesn't he want your informations now?
on second thought - you don't mind too much. this way you have more of a reason to stick around and return.
─❲♡❳▷Hazbin Masterlist
─❲♡❳▷Main List
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin vox#the vees#vox x reader#vox hazbin hotel#reader insert#fanfiction#hazbin hotel fanfiction#reader#x you#you insert#x reader#fanfic
34 notes
·
View notes
Photo
But would you tho (Patreon)
#Doodles#SCII#Helix#Schuldig#ZEX#And again the Captain implied from offscreen lol#Two little things ♪ One that Actually happened and one speculation lol#I really like Schuldig :D He's the likeable asshole type and his quirk is very well written :)#I love how he gets on Zelnick's case about his wishy-washy-ness in regards to xenophilia generally and ZEX specifically hehe#Zelnick has no good answer for him! It's so cute hehe <3#But then he turns right around and is wishy-washy himself!! I get the feeling his frustration stems a bit from relating hahaha#Or maybe Zelnick's uncertainty influenced him! It's not such an easy decision to make when you're staring down the barrel is it now :)#Openly attracted to Max's body and flattered by ZEX's personality and outright attraction to him in turn but the alien aspect is too much pf#Sure right okay lol - I have no skin in this game so I'll have to take his word for it haha#Secondarily speculating around ZEX's attraction and standards lol it sounds like an oxymoron but no he is actually a bit picky!#Yes he loves humans generally but he is actually tempered by what mind inhabits what body! It's so interesting to me!#I think it's especially funny how his various desires are in conflict with each other haha#Like it makes sense that he controls himself around Fwiffo - poor thing would have a heart attack - but he genuinely seems less attracted!#Which makes sense to me as well ♪ Spathi and VUX share several traits and were on the same side during the War so he's familiar with them#And he's specifically attracted to differences and novelty - it all lines up!#And then there's also his pride lol he tries to make more friends than enemies of course but he still gets petty and patronizing <3#If he's actually upset with someone /he's/ the one who would need convincing! It's all very interesting :3c#And then there's the matter of his own body vs. Max's body - he's so upset at the metaphysical implications of cloning his consciousness#I've never thought of ZEX in the context of the ''Would you fuck your clone'' questionnaire but I guess I know his answer now haha#Though I still wonder what his reaction would be to Max :0 He's probably not close enough to be ZEX but he is /a/ ZEX - of a sort#All his introspection about the body he's in has my mental ears perked haha - pity and worry for the potential life he's replacing#Discomfort at possibly being Max in some capacity including continuing to be in his body but also of overtaking his life entirely#And of being backed into a corner - Max is pitiful as well as pitiable! Neither of them want to be Max Vyer really#He loves humans but how far does that extend when push comes to shove ♪ It's been interesting watching him fumble through it :)
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
#i wish so much of my life wasn’t defined by shit that happened when I was 16 fucking years old#but here I am. just turned 21 and all I can think about is shit from five years ago#i just want to be my own person and to feel comfortable around other people#but everyone is in such a hurry to fall in love and declare their lifelong feelings for each other#i don’t even feel attraction to people. i just want someone to hold me#i want someone to support me through my shit so I don’t feel like I have to face it alone all of the time#i just want a nice comfortable hug to come home to at the end of a long day#and someone to sit with while we watch a show together to relax. even if we don’t actually say anything to each other#i don’t want to think about my whole life or the future ahead. i just want some sense of comfort that I am not alone every day#that sense of comfort you get when you look stupid and ridiculous but your rave camping neighbor asks you to kiss them#and you say yes because it’s their yearly tradition and you’re happy to help. but that’s the most nervous and most loved you’ve felt in a +#+ Minute. and now it’s just a core memory that you think about when things are shitty#man I just want a hug. why is that so hard. and why do I always have to be the strong stable one in the hug?#i want to feel like it’s okay to fall apart and finally get the support and comfort that I need#it’s too hard holding everyone else up all the time. i just want someone to hold me#i don’t know if I will ever love anyone but I just want to feel Close to someone. like I’m not in it alone. why is it So Hard to ask for a+#+simple little hug in life. it shouldn’t be so hard and yet here I am. sad and alone and I will probably always be this way
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
You want a real rush?
Be sitting on the throne dropping a deuce and hear a fucking angry 180 lb bull mastiff attacking a puppy that weighs less than 20 pounds
Underwear draped around my ankles I get up and hop twice to get out of the bathroom, standing I and jumping a three foot dog gate into the kitchen, quick hops across the kitchen; another jump over a wooden dog gate and two hops to tackle a 180 lb dog and clamp that mother fucker in a head lock with one leg trapped keeping my head so tight against his lower neck I was clear of his angry fat head and mouth(this was a very large mother fucking dog) and pulled the behemoth off the puppy while putting my hand out to keep the puppy away from the mouth.
And then I am sitting there with my dick hanging out, an ass in need of wiping, my underwear at this point twisted around my ankles and a huge angry dog in my clutches.
I am like, "KNOCK THAT SHIT OFF MOTHER FUCKER OR I WILL KILL YOU"
And my large dog returned to a normal state of temperament. I was able to finish taking a shit with an adrenaline dump.
Oh and I did get to wipe my ass eventually.
#perhaps a cast I don't remember#did I save the puppy's life perhaps but there was no thought it was all action#it's funny looking back seeing it yanno but that shit was fucking insane when it happened#like old fathead having dreams of Merlin beating his ass when he was a pup#not biting or attacking him#but it was funny as shit watching a 40 pound dog roll an idiotic 120 pound dufus#like something set that dog off that day#it is a shame those things only get about 5 maybe 6 good years before their size is their own downfall#just feed him sedatives was their solution*shrugs*#all the hounds of hell will obey me when the time calls#I put a bit of myself in my dogs#always gotta get a new puppy as soon as the other leaves like people are like cats are ao smart#shit dogs got people too#it is more of an empathy thing a different intelligence#cats are just clever little assholes#wow it cam jump up on something and bat shit#it is also stupid to go hide in an inescapable palm tree#like outdoor cats are fine unless one jumps in your arms and won't let the fuck go#kneading my shit#meeooolow#like ok you don't even know me cat#me considering the shapes of 11 amd 13 though yanno#if something makes Cannon happy she is gonna be like yo what's going on here#in a garden under the lord of Spirit who knows#sneaking that shit in when he was a baby#Oh all the men in this family have that....so.... like...hehe
0 notes
Note
Ok so I was thinking about soul swap (??) With gojo. Gojo doing🫣 stuff to his body in which readers soul is from readers body. Or can have reader doing stuff with her body..hope u understand kinda high rn. 😵💫😵💫
Body swap with Gojo
contains: fem reader, masturbation (m&f), reader & Gojo’s perspectives, perv!gojo & reader, multiple orgasms, “first orgasm” (experienced as the opposite sex), dirty talk, teasing, mutual pining
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ
"Gojo this is fucking serious!" You yelled, still getting caught off guard when Satoru's voice could be heard in your ears even though you were the one talking. "Okay okayy, I'll text Ijichi to come to get us, relax your little head." He responded in your voice. This whole thing was so fucked up. The two of you were fighting some curse together-- Gojo had no real reason to be there but he insisted on it for "safety reasons" (he was bored). You had gotten hit once by the curse right before you finished it off, and nothing strange had happened until Gojo came up to you and laid his hand on your shoulder to make sure you were alright, and that's when it happened—the soul swap.
Gojo pulled out his phone and held it out in front of himself, waiting for the face ID to scan him in. The man that currently resided in your body shook the device, frustrated. "Oh, this fuckin'..." He gave up, typing in his password as the device buzzed again and again, refusing to let him in. His antics made you giggle, turning your head to the side you sniffed to conceal any laughter he might pick up before you went back to watching him call for help.
"Ijichi? Heyyy, little problem~" Your higher-pitched voice reverberated through his speaker, no doubt confusing the poor overworked man on the other end. "Why do I have Gojo's phone? Funny you ask.." Gojo went on to pace around the area, throwing your hands up in the air as he explained the situation to Ijichi. You took the opportunity to look down at your temporary body, running your hands down the sides of Gojo's massive coat, which actually fit him. You felt the hardness underneath his clothes, pouting your bottom lip out in surprise, you figured Gojo would be fit, but you never knew for certain.
You had been a teacher at Jujutsu High for as long as he had, and the two of you had gotten quite close—which is why you didn't put up a fight when he insisted on coming on this mission with you, now you were starting to regret your decision. "Checkin' out my body while I was callin' for help? Perv~" Gojo teased, blocking your body off in a cross with his arms dramatically as he spoke. "Don't flatter yourself Satoru, you had something on your jacket." You lied through your teeth.
"It feels weird to hear my own voice chastise myself.." He pouts, placing a hand on his hip. "Yeah, well it doesn't feel great to see you flaunting around in my body either." You respond, holding a dejected look on Satoru's features that he probably has never made in his life. "Oh? you don't like me inside you?" He teased, covering his mouth as he giggled mischievously. "Please don't say gross things in my voice," you responded, rolling your eyes as you started to make your way out of the run-down building so Ijichi could see the two of you from the street.
"You're so serious~" He teased, using your shorter legs to run up to you and wrap himself around your arm, leaning your head against his arm as the two of you walked. "Also why did you not tell me you had to pee so bad." He said, making you choke on your own spit as you stopped in your pursuit of the road. "You are not under any circumstances going to piss while you're in my body." You emphasized, making a point to look into his eyes when you spoke.
"Why? Don't want me to see your cunt? heh." He laughed, once again using his filthy mouth to defile your voice. "What do you think Satoru?" You said, deadpanning at him. "Ahh~ you make my face look so scary~" He teased, curling your body up to his own arm once more as the two of you pushed forth towards society once more.
Once Ijichi's car, and the anxious man himself, came into view, you pushed the body that was clinging too tightly to your arm off of you. "Are you two alright?" He asked, coming up to your body. "Oh, Ijichi ~ you're such a caring man~ why don't you-" "That Gojo Ijichi, don't forget.' You reminded, looking blankly down at the dark-haired man, who had started to blush at your words. After an apology from the nervous man, and a quick slap to your body's shoulder that made Gojo whine through his laugh, the two of you got into the car.
The drive had started off with more shenanigans from Gojo in your body, trying to fluster Ijichi, which you quickly shut down by slapping Gojo's large hand over your own mouth. After that though, the drive started to quiet down, the three of you falling into a comfortable silence save for the radio playing some generic song in the background to fill the void. You noticed Gojo had started to bounce his leg in your body, peeking out the corner of your eye you saw your head was tipped back on the headrest, your eyes were squeezed shut, and your lip was pulled between your teeth; you looked like you were in pain.
"Gojo." You whispered, making him drop his chin and look at you, before he smiled through the uncomfortably, "I wasn't lying about needing to-" You quickly cut him off, waving his hands in front of you, "I know, I know." You said, before heaving out a sigh, "This fucking suuuuck." You drawled, letting your own head tip back agaisnt the headrest as you heard your own voice giggle at your unfortunate situation.
—
"Satoru hurry!" You yelled, tapping your foot anxiously on the ground as you stood in front of the bathroom door with your arms crossed, waiting for Gojo to finish his business. "Don't rush me! It's hard to pee with a blindfold on you know." He sighed, your voice coming through the door muffled. You had tied Gojo's own pitch-black blindfold over his eyes before you let him go into the bathroom, making sure he couldn't see a thing. You wanted him to leave to door open so you could make sure he really didn't peek, but then you put yourself in his shoes and realized you wouldn't want Gojo to watch while you were.. so you abandoned that thought.
Right before you were about to yell at the man for taking too long again, he opened the door, the blindfold off of your eyes and in your hands. Your face tunred beat red, your jaw dropped and your lungs filled with profanities and curses, ready to spill but- "I took it off to wash my hands captain stick-up-her-ass, relax~" He said, giving you a smug look before he pushed past you and started walking down the hallway. You bit your tongue as you watched your body move down the hall, "Where are you going?" You asked, placing your hands on his hips.
"Well~ I was hoping you could show me to your room because.." He held your hands out in front of him before he gestured to your body, which was covered in dirt, debris, curse blood, you name it. You could feel a headache start to come on, rubbing your fingers against his temple you sighed, realizing he was going to have to take a shower. You followed in his footsteps down the hall as you passed him, leading him to your room. "Thank you~" He cooed, a pep in his step as he followed behind you.
Once you reached your room you gripped your hand on the top of the door as he slipped under your arm and made his way into your room. You were caught off guard for a second, you knew Gojo was big, but you never really realized your size difference until now. Feeling yourself grow hot in the face you quickly snapped yourself out of it as you followed him into your room.
"Ahhhhh~" Gojo moaned in your voice, plopping him and his filthy body down on your pristine sheets. "You have two seconds to get off my bed before I use your own technique to kill you." You said with his deep voice, making him sigh as he reluctantly dropped his legs back down onto the floor and dragged his body off the sheets, standing as he crossed his arms at you. "Im tireddd, you seriously need to work on your stamina." He said, rubbing your thighs with your hands, "This body is exhausted, I feel like I'm going to collapse." He complained.
You ignored his comments as you dug through your drawer, trying to find something sufficient for him to change into. You settled on a pair of shorts and a baggy t-shirt, collecting them under your arm you threw them in his direction, the man skillfully catching them in his hands. "You don't have anything a little sexier?" He said, holding up the ragged band tee in front of him while he tucked the shorts under his arms. "Please." You begged, your eye twitching when you turned to look at him.
"You should probably.." You froze, your face heating up at the words you haven't even spoken yet. "Stop making me look so bashful, it's unbecoming." He said, a face of displeasing spreading itself on your futures. "God- Fuck, please just go take a shower and don't.. don't- don't be weird!" You sputtered, throwing your hands in the air in defeat before you opened the door and stepped aside so he could leave your bedroom and head for the shower rooms. "Yes ma'am~" He cooed, looking up at you through your lashes at you while he walked past you and started down the hallway.
Once he was out of view, you shut your door behind yourself as you slid down the wood dramatically, burring your face in Gojo's massive hands as you tried not to think too hard about what he might see, or what he was going to do with your body.
--
Gojo locked the door to the shower rooms behind him, screw anyone else that needed to wash up he needed to be alone right now. Your pleas and begs to not look at your body too long or be weird with yourself getting thrown out the window when your frame came into view in the full-length mirror that was in the bathroom before the shower stalls. He whistled at what he saw, turning himself around he looked over your shoulder and stared at your ass through the mirror.
Gojo was having the time of his life checking out his new temporary body. He was astonished at how pretty you still managed to look with messed up hair and ruined clothes. He stared intently at your body as he turned back around and started unzipping your jacket slowly, biting his lip when your body clad in a tight black t-shirt came into view. "Fuck, this is insane." Gojo laughed to himself, feeling a familiar yet unfamiliar warmth blossom in your stomach.
He let the jacket drop to the floor before he crossed his arms over your body and gripped the bottom of your shirt as he slowly dragged the fabric up and over your head, a shaky breath escaping your lips when he saw your bare flesh, the top half of your figure only being clad in a bra. "She'll never know." He giggled to himself before he turned around again, slipping your fingers under the hem of your pants he slowly and seductively slid them down your body, the heat in his stomach growing when your pantyclad pussy came into view as he kicked the pants to the side.
"Who knew all I had to do to get you naked was to do it myself." He said, watching himself in the mirror. Fuck, your voice was turning him on. He might be the one in control of your body right now, but the soul residing inside was still Gojo Satoru, the man who got hard watching you stretch your arms over your head before you spared. He turned around and reached his hand behind his back to unclasp your bra, biting his lip and smiling when he felt your tits fall freely in the air.
"Fuck." He wined in your voice, making your body grow wet as he slid the garment off your body and let it join the pile that had built up on the floor. He brought your hands up to your breasts as squished them together, kneading the soft mounds in his hands, pinching your nipples, jiggling them around, he touched and manipulated them in all the ways he could thing, all while he giggled at his own ministrations. "Now to see this cunt~"
--
Back in your room, you were still on the floor, your head had left the confines of your hands as it rested against the door with your eyes shut. You were going over in your head the way you looked from his point of view; how much smaller than him you were, the height difference, his deep voice, how warm his body was, how- what the fuck was that? You swore you felt something twitch in his pants. You dropped your gaze hesitantly to his lap and noticed a large tent was poking up right where his crotch was.
You had got to be joking. While fantasizing in his body, you had accidentally riled yourself up to the point you were sporting a boner? This was unreal. How did it go away? How long would it take? Oh god, why was his pervy body so sensitive? You did notice the familiar warmth in your lower regions, only in this body, instead of almost feeling your arousal throughout your whole body, you felt it more focused on his crotch.
You bit your lip, shutting your eyes as you tipped your head back against the door again. You couldn't stop your mind from wandering back to all the little things you noticed while being in his body, you wanted to stop you really did, you could not be like Gojo, you were not a perv, you were not a hypocrite.. but one look couldn't hurt anything right? Gojo would likely be in the bathroom for a while, he would never know if you just looked at it, right?
With a heavy sigh, you stood up and walked up to your full-length mirror, unzipping his jacket quickly and throwing it on your bed you lifted his shirt up on his body and stared at his insane physique. His abs seemed to glow under the light in your room, and the indents and muscles on his frame seemed to go on forever. How did he manage to stay so fit when he was constantly eating all those sweets? Men..
The bulge his body was sporting in his slacks made the whole view look so much more erotic, you bit your lip, your breath picking up the more you shamelessly gazed at his body in the mirror. You lifted his shirt more to get a view of his rock-hard pecs, a shaky breath leaving his lungs at his long and toned torso completely unobstructed by clothes to your eyes. You had already come this far.. looking a little more wouldn't hurt right? It's not like you were going to touch anything and besides! Gojo was absolutely doing the exact same thing right now.
Although the thought of Gojo checking out your body the way you were doing to him right now made your face heat up, you once again felt that same twitching under his pants. "Ugh, fucking quit that!" You chastised his dick, your face scrunching up in annoyance as you spoke to it.
You slipped his fingers under his waistband, you slid the fabric down lower- his v-line became more visible to you, lower- a white happy trail was exposed, lower- the base of his cock was unveiled as you could now see it throb under your gaze. You slid his pants down to about his mid-thighs, biting your lip as a shaky moan left his lips, making you feel dizzy at the erotic sound. His cock dripped a thick drop of pre onto the floor beneath you as you watched it hang freely in the room, twitching in the air.
He was so big it almost made you mad, realizing at that moment his cockiness and confidence not only came from his good looks and impressive talent but also from his massive cock. You dropped to his knees, perching yourself on them as you pulled up his shirt and bit the fabric between your teeth, letting yourself have a full view of his body. "Fuck." You moaned, the sound coming out muffled from the fabric tucked between your teeth as you let his warm hands come up to caress his body.
You felt every indent and ridge his body had to offer as you smoothed his massive hands over his body. Any guild you might've felt earlier being washed away at the unreal sight in front of you. The throbbing in his crotch was becoming unbearable the longer you worked yourself up. You tried to stop your hands from dropping any lower, you really did, but when you felt the way his hand wrapped around his cock, the relief, the pleasure, you had no regrets.
--
Gojo sat on the floor of the shower with a slack jaw as he watched your small fingers piston in and out of your tight cunt, moaning and whining at how warm and wet you felt around your fingers. "S-Satoru, Satoru-" He moaned in your voice, getting himself off on hearing your voice moan out his name. "Fuck- this feels so fucking good-" He whined, tipping his head bak agaisnt the shower wall.
He thought fingering himself would feel uncomfortable, but he was sorely mistaken. Your body was made for taking things inside your tight little cunt, the feeling of pleasure immediately washing over his body from just sliding his fingers inside your cunt. He had already cum twice from fingering your body and rubbing your fingers over your sensitive clit, he just couldn't get enough. He had no idea how long he had been in there for, but the water was still running hot so it couldn't have been that long.
"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, yesyesyes-" He moaned in your voice, wanting to get the most out of this experience while he could, he didn't know if he would ever get to be this up close and personal with your body again after all. He tweaked your nipples in his fingers, biting your lip as loud moans echoed off the walls of the bathroom, his hips humping into your fingers as he felt himself approach another orgasm.
"Soooooo fucked- heh- S-so fucked up" He groaned, your voice raising in pitch as he fought the urge to keep your legs apart, moaning out his name once more when he came. Your body curled in on itself as he continued fucking his fingers in and out of your cunt, working himself through the orgasm. "A-ahhh ngh- fuck-" He wined, pulling his fingers from your walls as your legs snapped shut, and your cunt clenched around nothing. The friction your thighs brought on your sensitive cunt as you came down from your orgasm felt heavenly.
Your body relaxed under the pelting water droplets hit his body, your gasps filling the bathroom as he tried to catch his breath. Gojo couldn't help but think how much better it felt to come as a woman, he felt like his whole soul left his body each time he came, the electricity that zapped through his whole body and made his mind cloudy was a feeling that could not be beat. He almost started mourning the curse you had killed, he wanted to experience this all the time.
With a sigh he pulled himself off of the floor, standing on shaky legs as he shut off the water and giggled to himself as he took the towel down from the side of the shower. "Fuck, it feels a little sore down there.. hope she doesn't notice, heh." And with that, the white-haired man started to dry off your hair and dress your body back up in the nice clean clothes you had given him.
--
"Fuck- fuck- o-ohmygod" You rapidly stroked your hand over his cock while you stared at Gojo's body in the mirror. It was a weird feeling, being aroused by this body while you had full control over it, but the fucked up situation almost made it more exciting. Gojo's balls felt so heavy and warm under your palm as you massaged in between your fingers. His back arched in the mirror every time you ran your hand over the sensitive tip of his dick.
It had taken you a minute to get used to the feeling and to find the right rhythm, but once you did, you were going fucking insane. You don't know how Gojo had lived his whole life with such a sensitive cock, every time you stroked over his length his body jerked and twitched, pre cum dripped from his dick, and his breath hitched, it was a mess. His needy whines and deep groanes you had occasionally let slip was driving your arousal up the walls, the way his abs clenched under your ministrations, and the feeling of his cock twitching when the stimulation got too much; you were feeling drunk.
"Right fucking- there- yess~" You groaned in his voice, stroking his cock slower but rougher as you squeezed your fist tightly around him. You wished you could fuck someone while you were in his body. If his hand felt this good, could you imagine how a mouth felt around it? Or a pussy? An ass? The possibilities and fantasies you were painting in your head were making his balls tighten, a familiar feeling coiling itself in the pit of his stomach.
"Shit, think I'm gonna cum." You vocalized, wanting to hear his voice, as the effect it had on you was embarrassing. You might be incapable of saying the filthy shit Gojo says on a daily basis, but you were sure as hell good at moaning and vocalizing your pleasure when something felt good. You wanted to hear how his voice sounded when it moaned out your name, but the embarrassment was too much, just thinking about it made you blush.
Your breath picked up as you thrust his hips to meet your strokes, both losing rhythm as you brought his body closer and closer to orgasm. "A-ahhh- fuck its coming its- fu-fuck-" You groaned, watching with a slacked jaw as long ropes of cum spurted out of his dick. Some of the ropes coated his hand and eased the slide on his cock as you stroked him through his orgasm, some being shot out onto the mirror in front of you, making the whole scene look pornographic.
His orgasm felt different from the ones you were used to, but it felt just as good. The heat was stronger in the pit of your stomach, and his cock was ten times as sensitive as your clit usually was right when you came. You felt different afterward too, a wave of shame and realization flooded over you when you realized what you had just done. "Ughhhh.." You groaned, being able to blame the unreasonable hornieness on this new body of yours as you washed the shame from your head, using a nearby towel from the other night to wipe off your dirtied mirror and his sensitive cock.
You winced and sucked a breath in through your teeth at the oversensitivity you felt while you wiped off his softening cock; silently curing him as it was still massive when it was flaccid. As soon as you tucked his cock back into his pants and straightened his apearance back up, you heard a knock on your door that nearly sent your soul flying out of your body.
"Let me innn, it's cold out here~" You heard your voice whine from the other side of the door. You took a deep breath before you walked over to the door and pulled it open, being faced with a damp-haired you. "Why do I look like shit? My face is so red." Gojo complained, walking past you as he dumped your clothes in your hamper before he walked over to your mirror to fix up your still-wet hair.
"Just got hot," You brushed off his remark. "How was your shower?" You asked, avoiding eye contact as you watched him fix your hair in the mirror. "Ohh you know~ Hot." He giggled. You rolled your eyes at his words, dismissing him as you plopped his heavy body on your bed and stared at the ceiling.
"I need to get my body back." You mumbled under your breath, making him look over to you from his place in front of the mirror, "What was that?" He asked, making you bite your lip between your teeth as you sighed heavily, replaying the last couple minutes over and over in your head. "Oh, nothing." You replied, biting the inside of your cheek.
part 2 :)
#i love body swap sh*t#this is so good#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo smut#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojou x reader#satoru gojo#jjk gojo#gojo saturo#jujutsu gojo#gojo x you#gojo fluff#gojo x y/n#gojo satoru fic#jujutsu kaisen satoru#satoru smut
6K notes
·
View notes
Note
Okay perhaps this sounds odd but imagine Astarion starts to disassociate while intimate with Tav and so he uses their established safe word, only to be bewildered when Tav actually listens to him and stops and asks if he’s okay and tries to comfort him because nobody has cared that much before 😢
OH GODS WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME (i love it)
warning for suggestive content :)
For as long as Astarion's been genuinely intimate with you, for no other reasons but simply because of the affection the two of you hold for one another, he has always been in control.
It soothes him, in a way, to be on top. And as much as he enjoys watching you come undone beneath him, there's a more frustrating reason behind why he always feels the need to be the one to push you down onto whatever surface he deems decent enough at the time. From above you, he can see every little twitch in your body, every shift in your expression, and most of all, he can control what's happening, unlike his centuries spent as a seductive tool for Cazador's own needs.
He knows you're not like those fools. He knows you're different, and you're special to him. But the gnawing voice in the back of his head always forces him to pull you in, to hold you closer, to make love to you.
It's fucked up in so many ways.
"I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel."
But when you look up at him with those imploring, loving eyes, the voice seems to go quiet. He swallows the dryness of his throat, unable to think of anything but how wonderful your touch feels on his skin, and he thinks he could drown in this forever. He's putty in your hands, whether he wants to admit it or not.
"Well? Don't be a tease just standing there, darling."
In what feels like minutes, he's a mess. He's making sounds he shouldn't be making, fingertips digging into your hips as if they're the anchors keeping him from finishing too early. He breathes heavily into the crook of your neck, groaning when you caress the sharp tip of his ear between your fingers.
The only thing keeping him from spilling is the impending embarrassment he'd feel for doing so this early on in the night.
Then, everything stops.
"You're so beautiful," you whisper.
They're only words. They're not ones he's heard little of---in fact, he's heard it too much in the past two hundred years. In an instant, memories of the nights he spent under strangers, forced to shove his mind into its darkest corners just to get through their own pleasures, flood his consciousness. The sickening taste in his mouth afterward, and the need to rub his skin till it goes raw were not uncommon. It was routine. A sick part of his life that he'd rather forget.
You don't mean it the same way they did. They only said things like that because that's all they could say. They didn't know him as anything but the husk of a body he resided in. He knows you are saying the words to him. Not to his body but to the very person he is.
But the word comes spilling out his mouth, and immediately, you freeze.
You actually stopped.
Of course, you would. You're you.
"Are you okay? Did I do something?" you reach to cup either of his cheeks, and he stares at you as if you're a star that's fallen from the sky. He blinks, slowly.
"I don't know, I just---" he searches for words. "--you haven't done anything wrong, darling."
You wait for him to finish patiently. Gods, he doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve you.
"I only remembered something I'd rather not," he plasters a crooked grin on his face. "It's quite alright. We can continue now if I haven't ruined the mood."
You pull away from him, and he fears you'll leave.
Moments later, you return with a glass of water. Wordlessly, you hand it to him, and he only stares at it, confused beyond belief. Only once he notices the way you gesture to the glass does he drink it, and you finally climb back into bed, lying down beside him.
"Come here," you open your arm, motioning him to come closer.
"Darling, as much as I'm all for experimenting, that's a strange position to have sex in."
You smile, shaking your head. You don't explain any further, only continuing to hold out your arm.
Hesitant though curious, he slowly lies down beside you, his head just above your chest and slotted between the space below your chin. With gentle hands, you pull him closer and toss the blanket over both of your bodies.
It's warm. Strange, but warm.
"You don't have to wear a mask with me," you whisper.
His eyes grow wide, and his chest stills. He doesn't have many tears left after 239 years, but there's an unfamiliar squeeze in his chest that tells him if he were still 39 and alive, he might have. Astarion wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face into where he can hear the steady beating of your heart.
Later, when your eyes begin to droop, he mumbles.
"Tell me I'm beautiful again."
"You're beautiful," you say softly. "With or without your pretty face."
You might be imagining it, but you feel him smile against your skin.
#astarion ancunin#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate astarion#bg3 astarion#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#astarion#bg3 x reader#bg3#fluff
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
The Finer Things in Death
Alastor x Soulmate!Female!Reader
Summary: An AU where your soulmate's first words to you are tattooed on your body in their handwriting.
Oh dear, where's your smile?
You knew those words by heart. Could recite them backwards, in your sleep even. Those damning words have been inscribed on the inside of your ankle for as long as you could remember, the elegant cursive strokes poking out of your shoe line.
In theory, somewhere, someone else was supposed to be sporting your own neat, boxy handwriting. You'd say you lucked out with yours. Some soul marks were less than pleasant, and others were downright embarrassing (imagine having the words move, asshole written on your stomach for the rest of your life. No thank you).
At least your soulmate was trying to cheer you up, right?
Yeah, but there was just one teeny, tiny problem.
Your soulmate was dead. Long dead actually.
Were they stillborn? Did their toddler self die in a house fire or something? Night after night you laid awake in your bed, pondering what the hell could have possibly happened to have altered the entire course of fate.
All you really knew was that your soul mark was a light gray (indicating a severed bond) instead of the usual inky black, and it had been since the day you were born. Everyone was in shock to see the faint words on your little ankle. After all, how could a soul mark exist if the other person wasn't even alive to speak those words into existence?
Simply put, you were a conundrum, and it had been some time since you had dedicated effort into figuring out why? You'd accepted it. Your soulmate was dead. Life went on.
Besides, you'd spent enough time grieving over someone you'd never met before.
Your lifestyle was not extravagant by any means, but it was comfortable. You had a steady income, lived on your own in an apartment in the city, and survived off of more than ramen bowls. Every day you would come home and read in your little fluffy alcove that you'd built yourself by your window, or pop open a bag of chips (and the occasional bottle of wine, if you were feeling fancy) while you watched the latest crime show releases from your couch.
Yes, so comfortable was your little routine, that you didn't notice the robbery happening in the convenience store you were browsing in, or the stray bullet coming for your head until it was too late. Your skull exploded in a world of pain, eyes rolling back as your body crumpled to the ground.
Dying was an interesting experience, to say the least. Your soul floated from your body, the final notes of music that blasted from your earphones fading into nothingness like the sound of a car driving away.
There was a brief moment where you were struck numb, hovering in the air as you stared down at your glassy eyed corpse, blood pooling alarmingly from the circular shaped hole in your head. You heard screams of the other customers behind you, but they were kind of muffled, like you were underwater.
It didn't last long though, because before you knew what was happening, you felt an almighty tug downwards, like an anchor had just chained itself to your stomach.
And that was how you ended up in hell. Fun. What were you here for? You had no idea. Maybe God got mad that your teenage self stole a few packs of gummy bears in high school. But a life of eternal damnation and suffering seemed a little harsh, didn't it?
Before you could contemplate the semantics of it though, something...strange happened. Your ankle, right where you'd tried countless times to forget your soul mark existed, was burning like a fucking brand.
You hissed sharply in pain, frantically pulling down your sock to assess the damage. Was the eternal punishment starting already or something? Shit, you had terrible pain tolerance.
But what you saw made you gasp. In fact, you could hardly believe your eyes.
Because in the place of your faded grey soul mark, the letters had been reinvigorated, darkened with a swift hand and—glowing they were glowing holy shit.
"Hah," you huffed in disbelief, shaking your head slowly. "So that was it, huh? I was destined to meet my shitty soulmate in hell this whole fucking time?" You punctuated the last words with a few angry kicks to an unassuming patch of weeds. What a cosmic joke at your existence.
But, like you always did in shitty situations, you gathered all of your raging emotions, stuffed them tightly in a box at the back of your mind, and cooled your head. Freaking out in this place would do you no good.
Turned out hell was pretty much like the world you'd left, except for the fact that you could kill someone on the street and nobody would bat an eye. Like all of the depraved aspects of humanity were on full display now in a somehow still functioning society.
You managed to snag a job at an old record store, the owner giving you one look before grunting and gesturing to the register—but not before lifting his jacket to show you the long assault riffle strapped across his chest. Yeesh, you got the message.
It wasn't a bad job by any means, especially considering where you were. Sure a little boring and monotonous, but you'd restock thousands of old albums if it meant staying away from the overlords.
Oh, yeah, another thing. Overlords were like the big shots around hell. Messing with them usually meant a death sentence, or worse, a contract.
And if there was anything at all that you picked up from all those nights of watching television, it was that you do not make deals with the devil. Really, elementary level shit. And you'd never actually seen Lucifer, mind you, but these demons were probably a close second, right?
Yeah, so really, you were just living a shittier variant of your life on earth it seemed. Repetitive, safe and comforting. You were even starting to like the scent of musty cardboard, as weird as that was.
And once again, all thoughts of your soulmate slipped your mind.
Until one day, when everything went to shit.
****
It started like this: with the sad sight of your empty fridge.
You groaned, dragging a tired hand down your face. Seriously? You thought you'd restocked already, damn it.
Your stomach growled achingly, and you sighed, wondering if you'd actually die again if you starved yourself. Begrudgingly, you decided that you didn't really want to chance it, throwing on the first set of clothes that you saw and slipping out of your dingy apartment to make a quick grocery run.
You generally hated leaving your apartment, and didn't do so except to retrieve bare necessities or walk across the block to go to work.
Why? Well, see exhibit A to your left: some poor, random demon screeching and running around on fire. See exhibit B to your right: a turf war between two rival gangs. And finally how could you forget, cannibal colony, slurping up intestines like bloody, chunky spaghetti. Disgusting.
The worst thing about hell wasn't the fact that you were in hell, it was the fact that the worst of the worst people were all cramped together like some fucked up refugee camp, and some people were significantly worse than others. Which sucked, for the poor unfortunate souls just trying to get by. Like you.
You sighed, ducking under a stray stream of bullets (you weren't falling for that shit twice) and side stepping pools of blood and guts. Just a regular Monday morning in hell. God damn it.
It seemed luck wasn't on your side though, because an ugly, dog-headed demon blocked your path, sneering down at you smugly. "Hey bitch, it's your lucky day. The big boss is hiring, and you fit the profile."
You clenched your grocery bags in a white-knuckled grip. Nobody would give a flying fuck if you were dragged off of the street in broad daylight. "Not interested."
"Oh it wasn't a suggestion," he chuckled darkly. You tensed as you were surrounded by at least four other demons. Shit, you knew you should have slept in.
"You like apples?" You nodded sharply at the demon in charge.
His face twisted in annoyance. "Why the fuck do y—"
You reached into your bag, before hurling a granny smith straight at his forehead. He yelped as it made contact, stumbling back as he shook his head in confusion. While everyone was still in shock from your weapon of choice, you shoved your way out of the circle, gunning it straight down the street because your second life did depend on it.
"Get her!" You heard a yell of absolute rage, making you shiver. Fuck, that did not sound promising. That apple must have really pissed him off.
Putting your limited aerobics to use, you ducked, dodged and lunged through the crowd like a pro. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, air burning your lungs as you pumped your legs faster. But of course, your grocery bag ripped open, sending all of your food tumbling and you by extension, tripping and face planting in the dirt rather pathetically.
A meaty hand gripped a handful of your hair, yanking it up harshly. You cried out as he pulled, hands uselessly trying to smack his away, but his hold only tightened. A liquor-filled breath and cheap cologne invaded your senses, making you cough.
"Uppity bitch," he growled, giving your scalp a painful yank for good measure. "You actually thought you could get away? Maybe I should teach you a lesson, huh? Sample the goods."
You froze, every nerve in your body going cold. So far in your stay in hell, you'd managed to avoid the more depraved souls here. You kept your head down, didn't draw attention to yourself, and were mostly left alone. Looked like today, your luck had finally run out.
"Get the hell off of me!" You spat, twisting around vehemently, only for your head to snap to the side as you were harshly backhanded.
"Stop your fucking whining and stay still!" He snapped, narrowing his eyes.
You bared your teeth, snapping at him aggressively.
A round of mocking chuckles went around the group of your kidnappers, the one holding your hair giving you a wicked grin. "Shit, that was cute. Really—"
He didn't get to finish his sentence, because his head exploded. Literally exploded, blood and brain matter dripping from your face. His hand went slack, dropping you on your wobbling knees.
Everyone was silent for a second, staring at the bloody mess where the demon was standing two seconds prior.
And that was when you heard it. Static. Loud, crackling and ominous.
Your mouth went dry. Shit. Shitty shit shit. You knew what that meant. How could you not? The asshole broadcasted his killings all over hell like a fucking psychopath. And now, it was your turn to become hell's gory entertainment. Fan-fucking-tastic.
You stood frozen, breath stuck in your throat as dark, menacing tendrils slowly curled along the walls. A large, grinning shadow rounded the corner, before the culprit himself stalked into view, razor sharp teeth on display as he tilted his head. "Oh," his grin widened. "Am I interrupting?"
"N-No man," one of the braver demons stuttered, taking a step back. "You can have her—"
Splat.
You turned slowly to face the bloody wall, eyes wide in disbelief.
"How distasteful," the radio demon shook his head. "As if I'd participate in your brainless thuggery. No, no. Unlike you gentlemen, I have class. Truly," his eyes lit up like glowing radio dials, a dark shadowy mass rising behind him as his antlers branched out like a gnarled, rotten tree. "Did your mother never teach you any manners?"
Faster than you could blink, the demons around you were reduced to blood, cartilage and splintered bone. The overwhelming irony scent made you want to gag, but you didn't dare move a muscle, eyes fixated on the terrifying sight before you.
When the radio demon noticed your staring, his smile sharpened, antlers shrinking as he leisurely approached you. Oh no. Nononono.
You struggled to keep from hyperventilating, your body going into shock as he leaned into your personal space. Two bloody fingers pushed into your cheeks, forcing your mouth into a morbid, artificial smile. "Oh dear," he tutted in amusement. "Where's your smile?"
You jerked back violently, eyes wide as icy cold realization washed over you. Dread squeezed your lungs as you stared at the grinning, bloody figure of your soulmate in horror.
The radio demon. Psychopath and mass murderer.
Your soulmate.
What the FUCK.
"T-This," your voice shook. "This is not happening."
There was a sudden screech of radio static, before his own eyes widened. Shit. "What," he said sharply. "Did you just say?"
"A-Ah," you trembled, leaning back. Every single nerve in your body was alight, screaming at you to get the ever-loving fuck away from him. In what was probably the stupidest and most desperate plan of your life, you pointed over his shoulder fearfully. "Look! Another one!"
As soon as he turned his head, you bolted down the street.
****
You slammed your front door closed behind you, double—triple checking your lock before sliding down to the floor in a panting mess.
Immediately you grew paranoid. What the fuck were you thinking? A lock wouldn't keep the radio demon out. You needed fifty more locks and ten more doors. You needed to barricade yourself inside for the next month. You needed—
"Hello there!" An exuberant voice chirped.
You screamed, throwing the first thing you could grab in his direction. He caught the house slipper, inspecting it in amusement, before tossing it over his shoulder.
"My, did I scare you sweetheart? Apologies," he grinned smugly, relaxing in your recliner with a mug of coffee. Your favorite mug.
You blinked. What the fuck?
"What are you doing in my house?" You squeaked, fingers digging into your welcome mat.
"Oh dear, allow me to introduce myself," he set the mug down on your coffee table, leisurely rising from the couch and offering a hand. "I'm Alastor! A pleasure to be meeting you sweetheart, quite a pleasure."
You didn't take his hand, instead choosing to gape at him like a dead fish.
He retracted his hand, tilting his head with a shit-eating grin. Twirling his cane, he continued like there wasn't just an awkward and terrifying pause. "I hope you don't mind that I followed you! You see, I believe our conversation was cut a bit...short." His eyes glowed as unidentifiable symbols floated in the air around him.
As quickly as they appeared however, they disappeared like they were never there. Jesus Christ, this man was giving you emotional whiplash. "Anywho!" He perked up again, ever the charming grin on his face. "Enough about me! I've yet to catch your name, darling."
Fuck. You really didn't want to give him your name.
But before you could open your mouth, he leaned closer to you, grin widening ominously. "I hope you're not thinking of lying, my dear. I must say, I'm not very fond of that quality."
"Y-Y/n!" You said quickly, raising your hands to shield your face.
There was a slight pause, before a gentle touch swiped at your cheek, retracting after a moment. You peeked your eye open, only to become vaguely ill at the sight.
"You had a little something on your face," he chuckled in amusement, holding out a clump of brain matter. With a swift flick, it was magicked away.
"What do you want?" You whimpered, overwhelmed with the entire situation.
"Oh dear, is it really that strange for me to want to get to know my soulmate?" He tilted his head, leaning towards you uncomfortably close.
"Y-Yes, actually," you stuttered, trying to look anywhere but his prominent red eyes. "I thought you'd do something more along the lines of...killing and eating me." You shrunk back as his grin widened. "Please don't eat me."
"How morbid, I would never!" He waved it away, like the idea was preposterous. "My word! What awful rumors you've been hearing about me!"
"You frequent cannibal colony and I just saw you tear apart six demons like they were freshly baked bread," you stared at him incredulously. "What hasn't been spot on?"
He paused, before giving you a humoring chuckle. "Well it seems your impression of me needs correcting!" Before you knew what was happening, nimble fingers encircled your wrist, pulling it forward gently. He pressed warm lips to the back of your hand, before giving you a charming grin. "Enchanté, ma chère."
You blinked, breath stuck in your throat. "What—What does that mean?"
"Oh, don't you worry your pretty little head about it!" He gently set your hand down, before pinching your cheek condescendingly. "Well my dear, I'm afraid I have other responsibilities I must attend to!"
He stood up with a flourish, leaning on his microphone cane as he smirked at you. "Not to worry!" He snapped his fingers, and a slim, feminine shadow emerged from the ground. "Missy here will watch over you in my stead."
"What? No, I—"
"I'll be back before you know it!" He offered a chilling smile, before melting into a puddle of shadows.
You gaped at the spot where he once stood, trying to process what the actual fuck just happened. Your gaze slid over to the feminine looking shadow, still standing in the corner of your living room. She grinned at your attention, teeth sharpened.
You closed your eyes, head thumping back against your door in exhaustion.
"I'm so fucked."
****
Enchanté, ma chère : Charmed, my dear
#hazbin hotel#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor#alastor the radio demon#hazbin#radio demon#alastor x reader#alastor x y/n#alastor x you#alastor x oc#alastor x ofc#alastor x original female character#hell#hazbin alastor#alastor being a menace#alastor being alastor
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
singlemom!reader x neighbor!sukuna. you miss having a baby and Sukuna is dying from a combination of your sexual tension, his lowkey(highkey) baby fever and the drudgery of attending a child's birthday party
cw: Sukuna's breeding kink, red flags are present and accounted for, no one gets laid tho so sad face. this actually ended up being way more sincere and heartfelt than I intended but honestly very typical of me
"Oh we're not together, Sukuna's just been letting me and Bug crash while we look for an apartment."
"Oh he's not my boyfriend, we're just friends!"
"He's actually not Bug's dad. No, no. But, they get along really well. She enjoys having someone else to hang out with aside from me, I think."
Your laughter after the last one plays on repeat as he goes to grab the two of you some refreshments. Sukuna feels like he's living the world's worst version of groundhog day, except instead of being some sad loser who relives the same day over and over, he's apparently a sad loser who is going to live the same conversation over and over again.
"Fuck this shit."
"Um, excuse me but could you watch your language. This is a kid's birthday party." Sukuna wants to ask the bitch who is correcting a grown man's language if he would mind watching his own fucking business but you seem to care about what these losers think and he won't make life difficult for you.
If he happens to step on the guy's foot as he leaves with two cups and a juice box caught in his elbow, well, his steel toed boots need the exercise.
Sukuna knew that if any of his acquaintances, he didn't have friends after all, could see him now, they would die laughing. Die ,because he would kill them for laughing, but fuck he couldn't even really blame them, even in his hypothetical.
Once upon a time, Sukuna was a feared criminal. People pissed themselves when he cornered them in a dark alley. Other bad guys would look at him and say, "wow that guy's a real piece of shit" and now look at him. Stuck at some three year old's birthday party. One more kidzpop butchering of an already shitty song away from committing another felony.
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he knew he was at least getting some pussy out of it, but he had just spent the past two hours hearing you deny him to anyone who asked and it was really starting to get to him.
He knew he was being a little bitch about it, and he wasn't upset just because you weren't fucking him. He was upset that all the things you were telling people, they were technically true. He was just letting you and your daughter crash. He was just your friend, not your boyfriend. Even the comments about him not being Bug's dad, but him being positioned as some kind of really invested babysitter, those might have stung more than the ones about your relationship but you thought that was true too.
Thinking about the kid made him look for her, not that Sukuna ever wasn't aware of where you and your daughter were. It had become instinct before he was even aware of it.
Bug was laughing with some kids he recognized from daycare and others from their regular trips to the park. Her happiness was contagious and Sukuna found his lips twitching up at the ends despite his shitty mood.
Your daughter's eyes found him from across the playground. "kuna!" she called, waving her little hand at him. He waved back with his available hand and made his way towards her. She met him halfway, her little legs unsteady on the wood chips but she didn't seem to notice. She was always like that when she saw him, she ran fearlessly. Maybe she just trusted he'd catch her.
Was it so wrong of him that he didn't like the reminders she wasn't his. That it stung, not just because of his feelings but because it just couldn't be true. He might not have fathered her, but fuck anyone who said this little girl wasn't his.
"I got you a juice, you've been running around so much you gotta be thirsty."
"Not thirsty," Bug argued leaning into him. He held up his hands that were holding the grown up drinks for the two of you, and moved the package still lodged in the crease of his elbow towards the petulant toddler. "Take it, or I'll drink it."
Bug stuck her tongue out at him and grabbed it. She struggled to get the wrapping off the straw and Sukuna didn't even notice what he was doing until she had the straw stretched out towards him and he was pulling the wrapper off with his teeth. He spit it out on the ground as your daughter gave him a polite thank-you and then walked away, sipping her juice as she went to catch up with her friends.
What had become of him?
"Need a hand?" You smile at him and Sukuna hands over your cup before taking a sip of his own. There was unfortunately no alcohol in it but drinking it occupied his mouth before he acted like a pussy and asked you, "what are we?" or "should we get married?" or something equally as pathetic.
"God, I want a baby."
Sukuna almost spit out his drink but he manages to tone it down to just a little cough before turning to look at you. You don't even seem a little embarrassed which is just infuriating. Sukuna's about to make a suggestion on how he can help with that when you sigh and point to where some loser is holding their ugly baby.
"Aren't babies just the cutest, I miss when Bug was that age."
Oh, so this was just you looking at other people's red-faced brats and feeling nostalgic and was not in fact a call to action. Sukuna rolled his eyes and leaned back on the hand closest to you so he didn't touch you as he was so tempted to do these days.
"That baby, like all babies, is hideous. All they do is cry, shit themselves and vomit and I'm not even sure Bug is the exception to that and she's the best kid there is."
You look touched at his affection for your daughter but also fired up on behalf of babies everywhere.
"You can't just say a baby is hideous, Sukuna. Those are the Zenin's. Bug is friends with some of them."
"Well are the older ones cuter, because that baby looks like someone fucked one of those hairless cats."
"Sukuna!" you hiss but he sees you smile, despite yourself. "Okay, maybe that baby isn't like the cutest baby-"
"Hideous."
You continue after smacking his arm. "But Bug was cute, okay. And I'm not just saying that because I'm her mom." You take out your phone and quickly swipe until you get to what you're looking for. "See, cute baby."
Sukuna grabs your phone and looks. It's not the first picture he's seen of a young Bug and he's taken his share of photos of her himself, but he finds himself taken in by it anyway.
It has to be a picture from when Bug was really young, she still had the scrunched up, red face that he associates with newborns. But he thinks you're right, she's still cute. He doesn't know if it's because he knows that baby will grow up to be your daughter, but he finds his thumb caressing her little baby cheeks, the wisps of hair he can see peaking out from where she's wrapped in a baby blanket. It's then he sees she's not alone in the picture and there's a different version of you holding her.
The thing that stands out to him is how tired you look. He thinks this couldn't have been too long after you gave birth but still, he wondered if you'd gotten any rest those first few months. You still didn't like talking about your ex, or the circumstances that had led you to his apartment, but Sukuna knew that chances are you were taking care of Bug single handedly and that couldn't have been easy, cutest kid or not.
"She was beautiful, she still is." He reluctantly hands the phone back to you and you look at the picture again, tears building up in your eyes.
"She is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I-I wish that the circumstances were different in how I got her. Sometimes, I wonder how I'll explain everything to her when she's older. She just deserves so much better than him, you know?"
"You both do." Sukuna reaches over and brushes away one of the tears that had managed to fall down your cheek. He leaves his hand there a moment, holding your cheek in his palm, just appreciating the warmth.
"Do you want any?"
"What?" Sukuna isn't sure what you're talking about anymore. He can only see your lips right in front of him, the way that your eyelashes brush against your cheek as you blink faster and faster.
"Babies, do you want any?"
Something short circuits in Sukuna's brain and he wants to say, fuck yes.
He wants to tell you that he thinks about it every day. Every time you put Bug on your hip or send him youtube videos of hairstyles you want to try on her. Whenever it's late at night, and little feet pad out of your room and Bug asks him in the loudest whisper he's ever heard, if he can get her some water because she's so thirsty.
He thinks about it when the sun streams through the curtains of his apartment in the morning and it lights up your hair as you move throughout the kitchen, a force of nature, a creature from somewhere far too good to have ended up here with him.
He thinks about it when the three of you go out and people just assume you're a family, because of course you're a family. When you and Bug play some made up game, or Bug gets tired even though she denies it and he carries her sleeping form against his chest. When he holds her in his lap on the subway and you lean to rest your head on his shoulder and he feels like this, this is what he's always wanted.
He's not all pure and good though, because he thinks about it late at night in his bedroom too. After a day of your smiles, of seeing your thighs stretch out of those sleep shorts you started wearing when the weather warmed up, whenever he remembers the feel and smell of your panties when he's lucky enough to find a pair in the laundry basket, he thinks about how the two of you would make some really cute fucking babies.
He's imagined it a million ways. He's imagined you telling him you've gone off your birth control and you need him now after he takes you out on an anniversary dinner. Or him crowding you up against the kitchen counter and you begging him to put a baby in you.
His favorite fantasy is currently one where you get so carried away when you finally finally fuck that you don't ask him to wear a condom and he spends the whole night making sure you're nice and good and full of him and when you tell him a few weeks later you missed your period, he'll let you freak out. But then he'll tell you that he'll take good care of you, and Bug, and your soon to be little one and he'll finally have you, all of you and once you have your second, he'll knock you up again, as many times as he can because there could never be too many mini-you's running around.
At this point, Sukuna remembers he's talking to you, the real you and he swallows a few times before he speaks.
"I do," he says simply but something must show on his face because you're looking at him in a way you never have before. He hears your breath hitch and he leans in to kiss you, and you smell so good and his thoughts are consumed by the little family he just knows you're going to have when suddenly he's pelted by a variety of sharp, little objects.
Sukuna immediately holds up his arm to shield you from what he now sees is a barrage of wood chips which are being thrown at you by an army of toddlers, including your daughter.
You immediately get up and start talking to the kids about the danger of throwing what are basically large future splinters at people's faces and Sukuna is contemplating the murder of every child that isn't his own when you turn to look at him.
You're not just looking at him, you're seeing him and oh. Maybe he would be getting laid tonight, after all.
The slow burn is almost done folks.
thank you to the amazing reception to this series and the one-shot I posted(which there will be a prequel of soon!). it's literally so insane. Masterlist will be up tomorrow which I hope helps with accessibility!
edit: masterlist is up!
#jjk sukuna#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna ryomen#sukuna x reader#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x you#sukuna x singlemomreader#sukuna ryomen smut
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
↷ ⋯ ♡ᵎ I FOUND MY BEST FRIEND LITTLE SISTER FINISHING IN HIS BATHROOM WHILE MOANING MY NAME. So... I fucked her.
tags: smut, unprotected sex, dumbification, breeding, overstimulation, a lot of cum, age-gap, gojo is SO obsessed with you, tummy bulge, sadism, breeding, dacryphilia, cunnilingus, reader gets caught masturbating, objectification if you squint, possesive gojo...
A/N: wasn't my last writing of the year lol, wrote this while watching sinjin drowing so npr, happy holidays!!
You’ve known Gojo Satoru almost for your entire life. It was one day your brother Suguru introduced the both of you just so he could enter the house and have dinner to continue playing with Satoru.
Ever since Gojo has been a daily presence in your house. He was known as “Y/N’s big brother hot best friend” well, mostly to the ones who liked Gojo, because that didn’t stop the other girls from crushing into your brother.
You told your friends you didn’t like Gojo in that way, since he was off limits for you- Not only because he was your brother's best friend but because it also ruined your hopes thanks to the age difference you had between.
Being a freshman in college wasn’t easy. Not only you had the weird seniors going for the new girls, but being known as the Geto’s Suguru’s hot little sister didn’t feel like a compliment either. At least Gojo treated you as your own person, not like Geto’s other friends.
Geto invited you over at his dorm, having some of his close friends present, which included Gojo. It turned into an usual occurrence ever since you entered college, your brother making it easier for you to adapt into this new environment.
All of you decided to take it easy tonight and just watch a movie. Nothing wrong with it, right? Well, there's nothing wrong. While watching, Gojo would try to make small talk with you, most likely because he’s just clingy and Geto is hanging with his girlfriend on the other sofa. Nothing wrong with what’s happening. During scary moments he would lean and hug you. Keeping his right hand on your left thigh, playing with the strings of your tiny small pajama shorts.
That comment is his, obviously. Keeping the blanket covering both of your bodies and his totally not wrong act. And you’re pretty sure if he just moved his hand a little higher he would feel your wetness coating your shorts.
Gojo was trying to gain your attention. It’s pretty obvious he’s been crushing you for years now, and he’s pretty sure Suguru has commented about it. Taking it as a go to continue flirting with you and adorning your pretty face with reddish colors.
But ever since he entered college, he kinda forgot about his crush and got his head (and dick) into other girls. The first time he saw you again, he couldn’t believe it. You looked so beautiful and.. different in a good way. It’s like his caged feelings escaped and flew all across the room.
And he’s sure that happened to you too, because your pretty face didn’t hide those loving reddish colors he adored.
Coming back to the present, it was kinda weird everytime he hugged you or leaned into you. You seemed uncomfortable… Your thighs caging his hand, making his blood run straight into his cock. But he didn’t think anything about it, and assumed it was normal.
While he was leaning into you, it became difficult and you decided to go to the bathroom to at least fix the problem going on between your legs and left. After a while, Gojo noticed that you were taking a long time, and he really needed to use the bathroom too to also fix his problem between his legs. He got up, commenting about going to the bathroom too. His friends clearly are not caring about it– too busy in their make out session.
He got out and decided to wait for you to get out of the bathroom. He stood in front of the bathroom door for a while until he realized the door was unlocked so he assumed that you already finished and just went somewhere else.
He opened the door and then, he saw you.
Never in his entire life did he expect to see such a pretty sight. Your pretty fucking face could make him cum alone. Your mouth making an ‘o’ form with your eyebrows scrunched up, just whimpering his name. Legs opened up trying to find balance sitting down in the toilet.
And you might have an exhibitionism kink or maybe you were just at your limit. Because once you realized Gojo was standing there watching you, it brought you to climax. Taking you an embarrassing amount of time to recover from it.
He couldn’t believe his eyes and shut the door in front of you face and went back to the living room with a raging erection, and never mentioned the incident with you from the remaining time.
As soon as he left, you went up running towards him, begging to not tell anyone about it. And Gojo Satoru, being the asshole he is, saw this as an opportunity.
“Okay.”
“Okay?! Oh my god Gojo, thank you so much- I swear I can explain it was-”
“But,”
Fuck. There has to be a ‘but’
“You have to go out with me and do it on my face.”
Silence…
“I- I’ve never done it before…”
Oh fuck. You’re going to be the cause of the death of Gojo Satoru.
He wasted no time taking you to his dorm, stealing small pecks from you which helped you with the anxiety in your tummy turn into desire for him. Feeling confident enough, once the both of you entered his dorm he closed the door and you attacked his lips with no warning. Earning a groan from him, your hole clenching at the feeling of his clear erection making its presence between the both of you.
He picked you up, a moan leaving his lips once he realized the big difference of size between your bodies, thinking how you would be capable of taking his cock. He had to prepare you enough to fit him.
Your back arched from the bed as Satoru's tongue laps up the slick of your soaking hole, his lips around your clit, sucking like his life depended on it. It's been so long since he felt like this for somebody, the feeling that he just wants to bend you over anything and just... shove his cock in your tight little pussy.
It's like, you're created for the sole purpose of pleasuring him. You just have to be, that's what he thinks as he plays with your body. Fat tears fall out of your pretty doe eyes, your hands finding their way onto his scalp and tugging at his hair.
Why can't you just take it? Look at you now, whimpering and crying, but on the inside you know you love it, being a little whore for your brother’s best friend– you sob as he continues his assault on your poor pussy.
Why do you keep screaming at him to stop? You were just screaming his name some hours again. Is it the overstimulation? But you weren’t prepared enough for his cock!
Gojo knows you better than anyone, he knows you even better than your older brother. Why do you think he’s the one taking care of you this whole time in college? Who do you think has been scaring off the guys waiting in line to have a taste of this pussy? It’s so weird you don’t know about it because everyone thinks you’re off limits right now. Is it because you’re really that naive? Maybe he loved that of you, how you’re so clueless of how crazy you make him. Being known as “Gojo’s Satoru’s hot next and official last real girl” instead of “Geto’s hot little sister”
Like- That’s why he's giving your sweet little cunt a lot of attention right now.
“Ssatoru! Please, stop! baby… ‘s too much..” All your whines fall into deaf ears as he continues without a care. Your pussy felt so stimulated as he sucked on your hole, his tongue licking and his throat groaning at the mere taste of your slick.You can barely lift your hands in exhaustion.
For hours, he didn't stop, continuously dragging orgasms out of you without fail.
“Aww, are you tired? But I finally have the girl of my dreams" You nodded, your tummy full of butterflies, making a mental note to talk about your feelings with Satoru tomorrow- your eyes droopy from all the cumming you've been doing for the past hours.
"But, princess, I'm not done yet~ I have to show you how much I desired you this whole time, how much I have waited for you to finally give and and realize." Gojo purred as unclasped the button of his pants, taking off his own clothing. “ But I guess you were just so dumb to get it all those years ago, at least you kept this cute cunt for me. We still have much time left. Fill you up and break you apart baby” You were faced by his raging cock, hard and full- he sits back down between your legs, lifting them up to his shoulders again, he then rests his hand against your clit. And after that, he slapped your pussy so hard that it made you jump and cry of his name. Never in your life did you expect your dream to become true and have your first time with him. Nor Gojo being a sadist and a have an obsession with your pretty little cunt compared to him
"I'm gonna pump your pussy with all the cum I have, girlie. You made a promise after all."
It's like Gojo doesn’t have a stamina limit in his body- able to go round after round in position after position - but at this point it’s been god knows how many times. He’s addicted to the way you feel around him, the sounds you make when he fucks into you a certain way, or just the look of your fucked-out, dazed face that has him needing more of you.
“hah- made a big mess down there, huh?” Gojo sneers brashly, heavy hips rocking into you faster at just the lewd sight of his cum from previous rounds smothering your skin. the aching twitch in his cock won’t fade, pleasure burgeoning with every press of his cock into the hilt of your pussy. “I think there’s room for some more, yeah? just one more…”
Your little play doll for him to change, shape, and form. A clear bump showing and leaving your tummy, making Gojo’s eyes go crazier and more full of desire than before. He programs you to do things he wants, and you just nod your head at his words though you don't understand them, just giving him a smile on your lips- your delicate fingers already spreading your pussylips for him, ready to take his cock inside of you. Biting your lip, rolling your eyes as he plunges into you.
You couldn’t count how many times Gojo’s said ‘just one more round’, but from the fatigue glimmering in his eyes and the raggedness lacing his breath - you can tell this is the last one. So naturally, he’ll make sure it’s the best one of the night.
“g’na fill you up like you deserve, yeah? lemme fuck this pussy full,” Gojo grunts pantingly between a grin, fingers digging into your waist taut as the heavy smacks of his hips against yours get sloppy and quick. it’s with rasped groans and his hips fully bottomed out that he finally cums for the last time, ropes of white seeping out around his shaft and spilling onto the sheets. he can’t help but bargain and promise to clean the bed if you let him do it all over again tomorrow.
#romy's writings#gojo satoru smut#jjk smut#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x you#jjk x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo smut#gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#jjk drabbles#gojo drabbles#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#satoru gojo x reader smut#satoru gojo smut#gojo fluff#jjk x reader smut#jjk x y/n#gojo x reader fluff#gojo x reader smut#gojo satoru x reader smut#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo x y/n#gojo jujutsu kaisen#jjk
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
coriolanus snow is not a good man— he watches you from afar, eyes like a hawk and plush bottom lip pulled between his teeth. he doesn’t know if he’s being obvious and he doesn’t particularly care. he feels his teeth clench when you laugh and chat with other men, something hot and unpleasant stirring below his ribs. it should be him that makes you giggle like that, makes your nose scrunch like a little bunny rabbit at a joke. jealousy stings and he finds himself having cruel thoughts about things he wishes would happen to those other boys.
coriolanus snow is not a good man— but you speak to him so kindly, so softly. he’s never once mentioned anything about his home life, careful to keep up his facade. but you? you notice the way his cheeks are hollow, the way his belt has extra notches punched into it to tighten further. you wordlessly slide him a granola bar in class and pretend you don’t hear the way his stomach gasps the way he refuses to let his mouth do. you bring him a tin of cookies you “had leftover” the night before, filled with chocolate chips and butter that will bring his calorie count for the day up. he doesn’t say thank you, but the way the corners of his lips twitch upwards and his gaze softens when you pass him a pastry under the school desk is enough thanks for you.
coriolanus snow is not a good man— his hands shake sometimes, when he remembers the way sejanus had cried for him to help at the hanging tree. when he remembers the sound of his only friend’s neck snapping and echoing, the way it sent chills down his spine and he felt like vomiting. he did that. he killed sejanus. he is a murderer, and yet you still brush his hair back in the middle of the night. its starting to grow again, pale locks falling over his brow. he is a murderer, and you still kiss his temple. you still whisper that you love him, that he’ll be okay.
coriolanus snow is not a good man— the sore in his mouth aches, a necessary evil to ensure your safety. he’d had no other choice, that senator from 2 was eyeing you all evening at dinner. for fuck’s sake, he shouldn’t let it get to him. he’s a president now, not some unhinged teenage boy. but the way that man had touched you, let his fingers linger at your waist, that would simply not do. you are the first lady of panem, you were untouchable. to anyone but him, of course. as you pass by him where he sits, you tut softly and pause to brush the blood off his lip, licking the red fluid off your own fingertip and dropping a kiss to his head. you remind him to be careful.
but coryo is good to you— he touches you so carefully, hands so gentle. his fingertips are always cold, but it never bothers you. not when they brush against your hairline, his palms cradling your cheeks as he kisses you like a man starved. not when they graze the bare skin of your back, your chest flush with his as his lips make their way down your neck. not when they squeeze at your hips, your thighs splayed out around his own waist and trembling with the way he pushes his cock up into you. not when they caress your cheek in the morning, his soft whispers of “good morning, sweetheart,” echoing in your ears.
coriolanus snow is not a good man. but he is your man.
#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow x you#coriolanus snow x reader#coryo#tbosas#coriolanus snow smut#coriolanus snow angst#tom blyth
4K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
askscrappyblog
SCRAPPY
katiepooxox-blog
Untitled
eaksharmanblog
Sahitya Maitri
socoolrobot
so cool robot