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mickyschumacher · 10 months

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hi love!! Could you write something about Charles x actress!reader where he gets jealous of one of readers ex boyfriend who’s famous and maybe leads to smut?

(i really hope it makes sense, english is not my first language 😭😭)

thank you !!🩷🩷

𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: jealousy is a disease. and it's latest victim is your boyfriend, charles leclerc.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors DNI), jealousy obviously, zayn is kind of a dick bless him 😭, unprotected sex (wrap your tippy pls), praise, blowjob, fingering, oral sex, p in v, orgasm denial, mutual orgasms, cumming inside, mentioning power couple tomdaya ♡︎, sucky media as per usual :/

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: charles leclerc x famous actress!fem!reader, ex!zayn malik x reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4k+

𝐀/𝐍: if i don't get to see charles and zayn in one room irl, i'll just write them in one room if that’s okay :( on another note, i hope this was what you wanted anon! and your english is fine, love. sorry for the wait ♡︎ // questionably written and proof-read on a jetlagged mind

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆ •°. 。 .°• ⋆

There were many things Charles understood well. Family, racing, the politics of racing... but one thing he would never truly understand was how he got you.

The Y/N L/N. An Oscar-winning, multitalented, down-to-earth, and gorgeous actress who had entirely won the public's hearts along with Charles'. The actress who had managed to rule the industry that most were born into.

How on earth had he gotten so lucky?

Charles couldn't deny that he was Ferrari's golden boy nor that he had become a fame athlete. But got you were on another level.

For what it was worth, Charles was a confident man. He thought he cleaned up quite well, he knew his mother raised him right, he knew that charisma itself was scared of him.

Yet, all that confidence came crashing down when it came to your ex.

Zayn Malik.

If Charles could ignore him, he would. But Zayn was everywhere. On his Twitter, on his TikTok, on his Instagram... his fans and your fans especially loved him. Why wouldn't they? He was a literal Greek, well South Asian, god part of arguably one of the best boy band's in history with a voice that had been blessed by Heaven's angels themselves.

When fans questioned why you and Zayn had broken up and you had moved on with an F1 driver, Charles found himself quietly agreeing.

But then he realised that by his side was you. You weren't next to Zayn or anyone else. You were with Charles because you loved him and he loved you. And that was more than enough.

That being said, Charles couldn't help feel a bit maddened at headline he had woken up to this morning.

You let out a small yawn. Sunday mornings were the most calm for you. Especially when you had managed to snag Charles for the week. You turned to your awoken boyfriend with a smile before frowning. "What's on that screen that made you look like this, amour (love)?" You queried, rubbing a finger over the crease between his eyebrows.

Charles looked up from his phone, smiling at the sight of your face. "Nothing, mon amour (my love)," the Monégasque dismissed, pressing a kiss to your forehead before pulling you close to him.

Naturally you would've snuggled yourself into him but you could tell he was upset. "No, Cha. Tell me what's wrong. What can I do to turn that frown upside down? Hmm?" You softly asked, peeking up at him while you rested your head on his chest.

You could feel Charles' body convulse as he let a gentle chuckle pass his lips. "I can never hide anything from you, hmm? It's really nothing, Y/N. Just a stupid headline."

You mended your brows, taking his phone from his hand. If you knew anything about headlines, most of them were never good. Your eyes had captured the photo of your ex first, making you deflate a little. You continued to read the headline that made you and Zayn sound like you were still together and then went to the little summary below it.

"They're 'dying to know what happens?'," You huffed, closing his phone. You pursed your lips and peered over Charles. "I swear I didn't know he was coming, Cha. I promise. We can totally skip if you don't want the drama. I'm okay with that. We can lounge in the house and do nothing," You offered.

Charles smiled softly at your words. You were always thinking of everyone but yourself. "Thank you but I wouldn't miss you winning these awards for the world, ma belle (my beautiful). You deserve to win these awards and I'm going to watch you do it. Nothing could ruin tomorrow for me."

━━━━━━━━━━━

A few hours into the Oscars, after parading the red carpet and gushing over you with interviewers, Charles was quite sure he was right. Nothing could ruin tonight because, god, were you a sight to behold.

You had captured everyone's eyes. Talking to your stylist months ago, you had accomplished your two wishes about your appearance at the Oscars: simplicity and red.

Red on a red carpet was always a bold choice but this year's carpet was a light grey. Dressed in a custom red ball gown, a matching silk shawl and a simple necklace, you had blown everyone away.

The amount of people that had solely come to your table to compliment you was surreal. But Charles couldn't argue with them. You were surreal. When he first saw you come out of the dressing room, he could've sworn his heart had stopped and for a moment, he seriously considered your offer yesterday morning.

The most beautiful person in the world loved him. Nothing could ruin the storm whirling in his stomach. The same storm he had felt when he was trying to muster the courage to talk to you when you first met at a tennis match in Monaco.

As you two conversed with your manager about the after party activities you were considering attending, Charles and you heard a voice that was all but too familiar.

"Y/N," The voice greeted.

You knew it was Zayn. You also knew how Charles felt. So you turned around with what you thought was enough confidence and greeted him. "Zayn," You breathed out with a small smile.

"It's been a while. You look out of this world. Beautiful as always," Zayn grabbed your hand and left a small kiss.

Oh good lord.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Charles tense. You cleared your throat. "Thank you. You look.. uh, amazing as always too," You complimented awkwardly, eyes darting anywhere but his face.

Before Zayn could fill the upcoming silence with any unnecessary compliments, you linked your hand through Charles' arm. "This is Charles. My boyfriend," You smiled proudly.

Charles' could feel his heart speed up. He gave a kind smile to the singer, jutting out his hand for him to shake.

Zayn poked his tongue against the inners of his cheek, eyeing Charles' hand before returning the gesture. He locked eyes with the Monégasque, tilting his head to the side. "Right. The driver, right?"

Jesus. For a second you had forgotten why you broke up with him.

"Yeah... the racing driver," Charles responded with a tight voice and slightly narrowed eyes.

A nervous laugh fell from your lips. "O-Okay. I think we're gonna head over to Tom and Zendaya. Uh, see you around, Zayn, hmm?"

Zayn moved his eyes from Charles to you. He gave his usual charming smile. Putting his hand on your shoulder, he said, "Yeah, sure. I'm always around as you know."

Charles felt his jaw lock as he watched Zayn's hand fall from your shoulder and trail loosely down your arm before he left. "See you, Y/N. Goodbye Charlie."

━━━━━━━━━━━

The after parties were a no go. For the first time in your life you couldn't tell what Charles was thinking. The silence after Zayn left and the car ride home was unbearable. You tried to comfort him by putting your hand over his and assuring him that Zayn was just a classified dick, but nothing came from Charles.

What you did know was that Charles was pissed. The tight grip on the steering wheel, his flexed jaw, the hardened eyes... all signs of an angry Charles.

Arriving home, you both entered your bedroom after taking your shoes off. You looked over to Charles. God the silence was unnerving. "Charles? Amour, are you okay?" You asked once again.

Charles sat on the bed, looking at you stand in front of him. His mind was going as fast as the cars he drove. 'Out of this world?' All Charles could think was that he was going to fuck you out of this world. He wasn't angry about the snide remarks. He was angry that he was even jealous of such a pathetic human being. Moreover, he was furious over those small touches of his.

"Chérie (Sweetheart), come here. Let me help you change," Charles smiled, his hand beckoning for you to come towards him.

You sighed, walking over to him. You could see his hands aching to grab you but instead you stretched out your hand to touch his hair. Charles closed his eyes at the feeling. "Cha... I'm sorry about him. He's an asshole," You apologised, now rubbing his cheek gently.

Charles leaned into your caress, fluttering his eyes open so you could see those soft baby blues you had completely fallen head over heels for. "It's not your fault, chérie. I think he's regretting leaving the most smartest and beautiful woman in the world. You have nothing to apologise for."

You chuckled softly, trying to disguise how touched you felt. Charles complimented you like this all the time and it never got easier. No one had treated you like this before and especially not Zayn.

"Now come on," Charles stood up from the bed and turned you around, "Let's get this off." A small kiss was planted on the side of your cheek as Charles' eyes twinkled through the mirror across you.

You smiled warmly at him and nodded. You watched him take the red straps off of your shoulders, leaving a trail of warm kisses on either side. You sighed calmly. His hands trailed to the zip of the dress, pulling it down, he explored the smooth of your back, placing a kiss on the back of your neck. Charles gently pushed down the red gown, letting it pool at your bare feet.

You reached to the back of your neck to take off the gorgeous silver necklace you had worn but Charles stopped you by grabbing your wrists. "Leave it," He whispered, grazing your arms with his touch.

An involuntary shiver came over you at his voice and from the air rushing against your bare skin.

You could feel Charles' lips quiver at the side of your face. "Cold? Let me warm you up, mon amour."

You drew a quiet, sharp breath as you felt him move your chin so you could properly see him in your mirror. His ring-adorned hand travelled from your neck and down the valley of your breasts, ensuring to make the extra effort to glide over your nipples with the metal band.

Your breath hitched as one hand began to rub your hardened nipple while the other continued to travel down your stomach. "Charles..." You sighed out, feeling a familiar burn spark in the pits of your stomach.

Charles hummed in response, meeting your eyes in the mirror with lust and a tint of smugness. The corner of his lips quirked up, feeling you tense as he neared your pussy. Through the thickness of his own clothes, he could feel your skin begin to burn.

His cock hardened at your reaction. He had barely even done anything and his name was already falling from your lips.

His fingers continued to creep down your stomach, feeling the heat from your core radiate. A sigh of pleasure fell from his mouth as he pressed his two fingers into your folds. He could feel your arousal encompassing his fingers.

"So wet, ma chérie," Charles moaned in your ear, making you return the sinful sound back. "All for me, hmm? No one else gets you this wet, do they, chérie?"

You squirmed against him as Charles' fingers moved from the soft lips of your pussy and ghosted your clit so damn slowly. Your hips bucked involuntarily with the crave of more.

Suddenly, his juice-ridden fingers were pressed up against your bundle of nerves while his other hand tugged at your lip, waiting for your answer.

"Shit, no. No one. Only you make me this wet, Cha," You whimpered, grinding your hips up against his fingers for more pressure.

Charles smiled in satisfaction. "Let's sit, hmm?" He said, tapping your clit.

You jolted at the action, feeling his hands wrap around your waist, seating you on his lap as he sat down on your bed. Your pussy throbbed at the loss of touch but ached for the hardness pressed up against you.

"Feel that, amour? That's what you do to me," Charles grunted, feeling an obscene high come over him when you started to grind down on his cock. God did you have him under your spell. Only you could put your bare pussy down on his cock and make him want to cum in seconds.

But how could you not. In the mirror you could see a sex-hazed Charles, skin flushed at your actions. It turned you on to see him lose control.

"Fuck," Charles moaned, stilling your hips from moving any further. Ignoring your whines, he pushed opened your legs, taking in the glistening view from the mirror. Bringing his two fingers to your mouth, you opened your lips and lapped at your arousal on his fingers.

"Merde," He sighed out, moving his lubed fingers to your pussy. He teasingly rubbed his fingers fully up and down, make you gasp at the coldness of his ring. Shit.

"Charles, please. I want your fingers," You groaned in frustration, thighs taking his fingers into a tight grip.

Charles chuckled, "Anything for you, princesse." He pushed his to fingers into the soft walls of your pussy.

The both of you moaned in unison, your head falling back on his shoulders. He watched eagerly as you enveloped his fingers entirely as if it was a magic trick of some sorts. The lewd sheen of you glimmered over his fingers while he thrusted them in and out.

"Look at you, chérie. Making a mess all over me," Charles smiled against your cheek as he looked down at his black trousers which now sported a darker stain.

Your warm walls clenched around his fingers, sending Charles on a journey to find that right spot both he and you craved so much. Charles could tell by the sudden parting of your lips and the jerk of your hips that he had reached it. His eyes flickered over to your face, bringing a small smug smirk to his mouth.

Your eyes brows were creased in the middle, laden with trickles of sweat building up while your mouth remained in a constant state of opening, letting those beautiful moans fall out as your chest heaved, craving more and more of him.

The trembles, the moans, the pure state of bliss you were in... it was all because of him. And Charles loved it.

Charles brought his thumb to your bundle of nerves, rubbing you in slow circles as he continued to push his digits in and out. He whispered softly, lips dancing against the curve of your ear, "You don't know how beautiful you looked tonight, mon amour. So many eyes on you. I bet they all thought the same thing... that you looked like a goddess. Sometimes I wish they could see what I'm seeing right now. This gorgeous body, your wet pussy trembling all over me, your swollen lips.... hear those pretty little moans of yours. Then they would realise... you are perfection. Unfortunately for them, they aren't the luckiest man alive. I am."

All of a sudden, all your emotions were rushing towards you. Hearing Charles' thick voice while his fingers fucked you sent you overboard. The ache of your core was climbing higher and higher, hips convulsing. "Fuck, Charles, I'm going to cum," You murmured with staggered pants, eyes fluttering shut.

Charles smiled softly, cock throbbing at the sight of you reaching your climax. But as much as Charles loved it, he needed his cock in your warm walls.

Your eyes snapped open as you felt Charles remove his fingers from your pussy, leaving his thumb circling your clit aggravatingly slow. Your walls clenched around nothing in the effort to grab the last sliver of euphoria that Charles had brought. "Charles," You whispered, almost with a sob, eyes shaking in both annoyance and lust.

Charles brought his lips to yours, softly hushing your cries. "I'm sorry, chérie, I need you." His baby blues bored into yours, taking you in.

Looking at Charles when he had said that, given how the night had played out, the tone of his voice told you everything you needed to know. "I know, amour. I need you too," You whispered back, giving him a long peck.

You sat up from his lap, turning to undo the buckle of his belt. The clangs echoed throughout the room as the tension between the both of you became heavier and desperate. Your hands raced to take off the strap while Charles itched to take off his stained pants, cock aching to come out.

Charles let out a low groan, feeling your warm breath on his bare cock as your removed his boxers. His Adam’s apple hitched as he felt your tongue take a long wet stripe of his cock.

His fingers itched to move you away and fuck you like he initially intended to, but the moment he felt your mouth sink down his shaft, his hand naturally fell into your hair. His cock fit perfectly in your mouth as if they were made for each other.

Charles' teeth sunk down on his bottom lip, baby blues eagerly watching you on your knees for him. His hand tightened around your hair as you hollowed your throat. With your eyes flickering to him as your teeth just grazed his cock, sending a tremor down his spine, he let out a series of soft moans. "Just like that, amour," He encouraged while you sucked him up and down.

Taking long licks at the shaft of his pulsing cock, you removed your lips briefly, resting them on his tip. "Only for you, Cha," You reminded him.

Charles held your gaze, feeling another shudder rip through his body. Jesus. Speechlessly he watched you bring your swollen lips back down his cock, hand gently reaching out towards his balls. Charles' hip jerked up at the sudden action, pushing his cock further down your throat.

The rasp of his grunt made you clench your thighs, feeling your pussy drip with arousal. You could feel his cock begin to move with Charles' control, high on the pleasure. Your throat fought to keep itself open, wanting every inch of him in your mouth.

Charles' pace began to speed as the sheer euphoria began to climb up. He averted his eyes to your face, feeling himself tighten further in your throat as seeing you take his cock was a different high on it's own. Your eyes were glassy, brimming with tears of brought of lust and arousal; saliva and sweat painted your skin with a glow he cherished. But what did it for him was the small bulge in your throat; all of him just in your throat.

God, did he just want to thrust himself harder till he came. He needed to cum... but not in your throat.

"Mon amour," Charles grunted, tapping the underside of your chin.

You moved your mouth from his cock, feeling his hand gently lift your chin as you stood from your knees. No words were needed as your eyes searched his.

Bringing your lips to his, Charles wrapped his arm around your waist, flushing your burning body to his unfairly clothed chest. Yet, you could feel the heat pouring off of him. You could barely breathe as you kissed Charles; the fervent need for each other was almost overwhelming.

You could feel his puffy lips slowly detach from yours, eyes staring into yours as he positioned his cock to your wet folds.

Something about this moment felt nostalgic, reminding you of your first time with Charles. The slow and careful movements, the way Charles looked at you as if he had the whole world in his eyes... as if everything was okay as long as you were by his side.

Fuck Zayn. Fuck everyone else.

All he needed was you and he had you... entirely.

You whimpered loudly, feeling his cock drive into you, filling you entirely. "Merde," you heard Charles cuss as he flung his hands onto your bare hips. The air that was once full of your pants and the obscene sounds of your lips sucking his cock was now full of your lewd moans and the sounds of your skin slapping and sticking against one another.

His hands gripped your hips tightly as Charles thrusted into you, losing himself in the feeling of your warm folds enveloping his cock, acting as some sort of siphon that he couldn't escape while he watched your breasts bounce. No... he was under your spell.

Those same thoughts wandered into his head as he rutted into you. How had he gotten so lucky? All he knew was that he must've been a good soul in every past life of his in order to get someone like you.

"Fuck," You cursed, back arching as your body welcomed each hit of euphoria. You burned with desire, humming with approval; cheeks aflame and moans slurred. Your pussy tightly wrapped around his cock began to clench as Charles' fingers had found their way to your clit.

A shiver shoots down Charles' spine as he watched your breasts come on full display. He bent his head down, hot tongue swiping over your nipple. He moaned against your now flushed breast. You were driving him insane. He couldn't think, he could barely speak. You had taken over any stability he once had.

"Charles," You rasped, feeling the coil at the bottom of your stomach tighten.

Charles softly smiled against your breast, detaching his mouth and increasing the pace of his hips against yours. His eyes flickered down to where his cock met your folds, falling into an entrance while he watched your arousal coat his cock.

"Cum for me, chérie," Charles encouraged, feeling your hands travel up his back, pressing into the fabric of his shirt, leaving no inch of his skin missed by you.

"Charles, Charles, Charles," You moaned his name; your favourite song. Your body trembled, melting against him as he tightened his grip on your hips, steadying you as a white light ripped past your eyes, hips bucking involuntarily to fully grasp the high of your climax.

Charles takes his turn at own favourite song; your name slipping from his lips, stuck on repeat. Your folds act as a vice, gripping him tightly. His cock throbbed, the heat of his skin rising. His pants turned higher and irregular, hips coming to a falter as he felt the hot white stripes of his cum coat your warm walls.

Charles' head fell back against the bed, slowly removing his softening cock from your pussy.

You let out a small sigh, almost collapsing against Charles if he hadn't wrapped his arms around your waist and brought you close to him. His blues eyes skimmed over your face, a small smile playing on his lips while he brushed your sweat ridden hair back; his fingers trailed over your swollen lips, tracing the trails of red lipstick that had escaped it's confines.

"You're coming to Monaco, right?" Charles asked softly.

You smiled at him, running your hand through those soft brown locks of his, trailing down his face and ending at his small dimple. Rubbing the spot in small circles, you earnestly whispered, "I wouldn't miss it for the world, Cha."

Charles' eyes softened, pressing a kiss to the side of your forehead. "I'm sorry about tonight, amour," He apologised, feeling a slight bit childish and guilty over his reaction.

You chuckled, shaking your head, moving to rub the familiar crease between his eyebrows. "He's an asshole, Cha. I don't know if I tell you enough, but you're the man that I love... forever. There's no one else for me."

"So cheesy," Charles jested even though you could tell what you had said meant a lot to him, especially given that he had tightened his grip around you.

"Only for you, Charles," You rolled your eyes before holding his gaze. "Only for you."

#mickyschumacher #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 smut #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #formula 1

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wonkawinka · 2 months

Text

we’ll meet again

“we’ll meet again… don’t know where, don’t know when..”

alastor x angel!daughter!reader

CHAPTER ONE: don’t look at me like that!

— — CHAPTER TWO: smile like you mean it!

warnings/notes: NOT PROOF READ! blood, murder, guns, wounds, no use of y/n, uses she/her pronouns, reader is on the fem side, here are some things to know first, all the french was google translated i am so sorry hsdhdh

mawmaw- another way to address one’s grandma in the south

ma chére- french for my dear

as-tú mange?- french for have you been eating?

ça va aller - french for it is going to be okay

muffuletta- a sandwich that consists of provolone, olives, cured meat, and bread which originated in new orleans back in the early 1900s!

wc: 2003

————————-

LETTERS. letters turn to words. words turn to sentences. sentences turn to paragraphs. paragraphs turn to essays. essays turn to books.

one swoop in the air and one of the books gets snatched in a blur. the figure flew past the big, gold plaque which read The Records Room, landing softly on the floor of the library. you said gently as the big ol’ eye stared right back at you. heaven was littered with eyes. every crevice, ever corner, every wall of The Court had at least one staring right at you.

“oh, come on, don’t look at me like that.” the girl frowned at it, silently biting back on herself because she was quite literally talking to a book. it was as if the book was telling her to let it go, maybe even begging her to go home. her deer-like ears going against her head as she pondered the idea.

“ugh…” you released the book as it flew away, staring up as it joined its friends in the air— are all the books friends?

you grabbed your messenger bag, dusted your skirt, adjusted the vest, fixed your scarf…

and took a deep breath. today will be a good day, you thought mentally. if today isnt, tomorrow will be.

nodding at passerbyers with a polite smile, you strolled the streets of heaven, tracing your steps as if it was the back of your hand. people spoke your name gently, acknowledging your presence with soft tones.

one called out to you “nice to see you again, dear!” one smile to that woman.

then another “lookin’ good, toots!” another nod to that one man… despite the clear connotation of it.

“ate that up!” that made you nervously smile, not quite understanding the ‘new modern slang’ quite yet. looked like the teenager that recently arrived in heaven— a good person, you add.

you rounded the corner and sighed with relief at the sight of a familiar corner store. mawmaw’s corner. as you took note that the little store was closed, you reached for the secret key that sat in one of the flower pots.

third petunia to the left… ah. you pick it out of the pot and quietly open the door to the restaurant, locking it behind you.

“mawmaw?” you call out gently, not wanting to startle the poor woman. she was washing dishes, as usual, turning as she heard your voice.

she called your name in excitement, “ma chère!,” pulling you in for a hug which you happily accepted. she pinched your cheeks and turned your face from side to side to examine it.

“as-tú mange? you look so tired, sugar. i told ya’ to start watchin’ your health!” she scolds you with a sigh, shaking her head in disapproval, her new orleans accent slipping out as she pinches your cheek. “you youngins, tsk tsk.”

“i know, i know...”

she let go of your ear to turn back to the kitchen, giving you time to rub your cheek and soothe the pain. she quickly whipped up a muffuletta for you, her motherly love engraved into all her cooking.

“wouldve gotten you jambalaya, but people started comin’ left and right for it, dont even know where they comin’ from!” she exclaims with a laugh, brining the food towards you. she went on to talk about her day which you, of course, offered your utmost maximum attention to each word that fell from her mouth. the only thing that filled your ears was the subtle tumble of the air conditioning and the thick new orleans accent leaking from her tone. it was comforting in a nostalgic way. forms of her reminded you of your own father. own father. father. fath—

“oh! happy father’s day by the way!” you say with a slight teasing smile, but it was genuine for the most part. she turned to you with a— well, unamused, and albeit a confused face.

“hunny, i’m a woman.”

“that works her aaaa——,” the older woman cocked her eyebrow at your language choice, “bbbbutt… off every single day even when she’s dead. that’s enough recognition on both father and mother’s day” you say with a smile, finishing the last bits of your food.

“y’know, sugar, sometimes you remin’ me of my son.” she says with a smile. “quite the charmer back in the day, i’ll say!”

“never knew if he had kids, though.” she tried grabbing your plate, offering to wash it, but you declined with a smile, getting up to wash it yourself.

“well… sometimes, you remind me of my father.” you said, “say, what's his name? tell me ‘bout him. who knows, maybe he did have kids.”

the ringing of the water filling your ears as they awaited to hear an answer from the older woman. they twitched in reaction to the noise— it made you think back.

— — — — — 1932.

you walked through the woods quietly, trekking your way quietly to the cabin. home. you skipped in your steps as the delight of finishing your tasks early filled your core. the leaves swayed in the air, whispering untold nothings throughout the night. the gravel under you crunched against your heels as you got closer and closer to your humble abode.

you wouldve kept going. your father always told you to head straight home after your miscellaneous errands were done, especially after dusk. his words ringed in your mind always saying, “its is never safe for a dear like you to be hanging around town at night!”

there was a whisper in the bushes. a quiet one, but it was noticeable. it was enough to halt your steps.

you stood your ground as your eyes pivoted to the greenery. adrenaline started pumping; it removed the glue from your shoes that kept you from approaching the sound. what would be the harm in checking it out, anyway? you were close enough to your house as is.

something grabbed your ankle— shrieking in horror as the hand pulled itself towards you.

a man, bloodied, battered, drenched in his own blood looked up at you in a panic. the metallic stench rung in your nose as you stared down at the man in shock. he looked vaguely familiar— but the bloodied mask over his face barely made him recognizable. a flick away and all the oxygen would stop flowing through his veins. something turned in you. churned. stomach twisting in absolute horror and disgust. your mind told you to run. to scream. to call for help. to do anything but get your hands dirty.

but you couldnt leave the poor man.

you pulled the guy out of the bushes, only to discover a gunshot wound right in his abdomen. it was like some ravage animal was trying to tear him up right there and then. he stared up to you, not talking— hell, he couldnt talk. blood dripped from his mouth like a faucet. he couldnt if he tried.

but eyes always spoke. he didnt need to use his words. he looked grateful in a way. grateful he wasnt alone when he’ll die.

hands bloodied as if you were the one who caused it. his wound pooled out fountains of blood, onto the ground, seeping into your skirt.

“who… did this to you?” you whispered to him, bloodied hands shaking violently in reaction to the sight. he wanted to answer— but he couldnt.

you knew better than that.

you held his hand when he passed— which only took roughly around two minutes. it didnt take long.

you stood up. turned. looked. saw.

a man was looking at you from the woods. it was dark, but nothing could hide that manic smile, cheeks outstretched that it was nearly not human. nearly. he looked at you, eyes boring into your face.

he kept looking at you. it was only a matter of seconds, but to you it felt like hours. days. years. decades passed in those seconds. time ticked. it slowed down in the fastest way possible. it sped up in the slowest way possible.

you wanted him to stop looking at you.

your father— no. your father never looked at you like that. thats not the man who tucked you to sleep. thats not the man who made your favorite pancakes when you were sad. thats not the man who let you sleep with him whenever you had a nightmare. thats not the man who only trusted you when making his coffee every morning. it was unlike him. her father would never—

there was a gun pointed to her.

“dad—?” you whispered, as if he could hear her for the distance they were at.

the trigger popped.

the clock started.

the body jolted violently at the impact. it fell. blood pooled from the area like floods of rose petals bathing the forest floor.

it was a perfect hit. alastor always had perfect aim, anyway. he was never going to miss. he never misses. but as he approached, he had wished he did.

he approached the corpses slowly, making no haste in his steps. two birds, one stone. then he saw you.

you.

alastor’s manic smile faltered as the realization dawned on him. he fell to his knees, dropping the rifle, nearly throwing it to the side. his eyes blew open as he was instantly to your side. it was quite pathetic— especially for him. by now, he wouldve been tearing his victim’s flesh open, feasting on his prey like some crazed animal.

four minutes.

you, weren’t supposed to be home yet. you, weren’t supposed to wander to the small, suspicious sounds of the forest.

you weren’t the main target.

you coughed up blood, suffering the same fate of the man you had just encountered a few moments ago. now you were the victim, fallen to the forever bloodied hands of your manic father. the fact it was your father still hasn’t occurred to you fully yet.

he softly cradled you in his arms, now seeing your face stare back at him. “pa?” you coughed out, earning a shush from alastor.

“it’ll be okay, my dear.” he said, not sure if he was assuring himself too. his manic laugh grew louder and louder as he rocked you back and forth like a helpless child. “ça va aller..” he repeated this like a spell. a prayer. a grasp of intangible hope.

three minutes.

“pa, it hurts.” hurts was an understatement. your whole life was draining from one measly hole in your neck. it burned. ached. everything you have worked for draining out of your body in the matter of minutes.

“i know, my dear. it’ll all be better soon..” he carefully scooped you up to rest in his chest as if he were comforting you from a nightmare.

but his ego would never admit he was comforting himself in this nightmare.

it wasnt a nightmare, however. it was reality. your blood pooled onto his coat. his hands. everywhere. the stench reminding him that this was in fact, reality.

two minutes.

in moments of pure desperation, tears pooled down his face, completely contrasting the smile on his face. his eyes spoke.

“im sorry, pa.” you apologized. why were you apologizing?, you asked yourself. he was the one that just threw away your whole life, you thought. but—

but he was your father.

“don’t you apologize, my little dove,” he responded, “don’t you apologize.” his hand held your head to his shoulder. the hand that caused this mess in the first place.

one minute.

your life flashed before your eyes. did he even care? were you just another toy of his that he could kill? was he behind all of these killings he himself announced on the radio show you, oh, so adored— no, of course he did. it all made sense now.

“i love you.”

wait.

why did you say that?

times up.

— — — — — PRESENT.

the ringing of the water came back to you. the lukewarm water weaved through your fingers. it brought you back to your senses.

“say, his name was alastor.” she answered.

alastor.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #dad!alastor x reader #angel reader #platonic #angst #gore #character x reader #how do people tag #french??#hazbin hotel spoilers

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garoujo · 2 years

Note

sitting on megumi/nanami's face🙈

・✶ ｡ﾟ megumi thinks you are intoxicating.

♱ warnings — f!reader, agedup!megumi, face-sitting, he is very pussy drunk and trying his best >< not proof read ( ‘m sleepy )

♱ note — help it’s been so long since ive thirsted 4 anyone who’s not satoru . i’m sorry my ideas have been worn thin sob pls help </3

“does it feel good?” megumi asks from where his face is squished between your thighs, and he swears he feels his whole body shiver when you send him a starry-eyed look followed by a slow roll of your hips, grinding your cunt down onto his tongue with a neediness that makes his eyes roll as you nod out a pretty, little dazed uh huh.

his cheeks and the lower half of his face are slick with your juices as they drip down to pool onto the sheets below him, but it only spurs him on. they’re good signs as his slender fingers flex into the flesh of your hips every time your thighs tighten around his head, encouraging your needy little humps against his face.

“fuck—keep going, k-keep doing that.” you hear megumi mumble under his breath before he buries himself back into you, the low tone of his voice sending pleasured vibrations straight to your clit as your hips twitch from the sudden jolt of bliss, your fingers twisting in his dark hair as your hole clenches around his tongue.

but you almost hear him choke on his next growl when you trail your fingers between your thighs, spreading your folds lewdly before he’s diving back in — desire igniting his veins as his cock leaks and twitches in his pants. the way you’re melting so intoxicatingly for him is all new, and he feels like his ears are ringing when you meet every roll and swipe of his tongue with an even more eager grind.

megumi is flushed from his cheeks to his chest, a thin sheen of sweat over his toned torso and he feels sticky when he laps at your clit, his fingers tightening in your skin so he can push his tongue even further past your folds to dip into your hole. lewd squelching noises fill the room as he fucks you with the muscle, lazily blinking up at you when your hips grind against his face.

“i.. fuck—i wanna make you cum.” he grunts, desire heavy in the tremble of his voice and you arch almost painfully into his mouth when you feel his tongue split through your folds — slurping at the slick that’s gathered between them before he’s dragging his tongue up to roll your clit.

the sight of megumi so fucked out on your taste, eyes rolling back as he buries himself in you like it’s his first taste of heaven only makes you feel even better — bathing you in mindless kitten licks that make you tremble and rock in time with his movements.

the way he’s groaning beneath you, so lost in the pleasure he’s digging out of you is sending pleasured vibrations straight through your clit when he closes his lips around the bud, suckling languidly as his fingers twitch in your hips. his movements are experimental but he’s careful, he’s learning what makes you feel good — what makes you moan and grab tighter at his roots before you pull him deeper.

“so pretty. u-use me to make you feel good.” megumi exhales in reverence along your folds, grunting low when you only press deeper into him in response.

your clit is beginning to feel firmer when he flattens his tongue against it, messy with his spit and your slick and megumi think heaven really does fucking exist between your thighs when he looks up at you again, head thrown back in pleasure as you moan for him and shit—if he’s in heaven you’re definitely an angel.

but then he’s letting his tongue twist messy along your folds, letting you grind and hump yourself against his mouth until you’re hips are twisting and you’re going rigid above him, every roll of your hips turning into blissful jolts and humps that make you cry for him as you cum.

megumi’s eyes roll back and his cock feels like it throbs at the first taste of your cream on his tongue, his chin and cheeks glistening as he drinks up everything you give to him so eagerly. he keeps up his ministrations until the aftershocks of pleasure feel like they burn you with each kitten lick from his tongue over your clit, pushing his head away with a cute little whimper.

but he can’t hide the furrow of his brows when he looks up at you, cock undeniably hard between his thighs but his fingers are still tight around your thighs.

“are you done? i—i can keep going.”

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #megumi x reader #megumi smut #megumi x you #fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi smut

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seravphs · 1 year

Text

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — GUARDIAN ANGEL! GOJO x FEM READER

Kneeling by your bed, rosary wrapped around your knuckles, lips pressed to the burnished rosewood, you pray.

God, please send me another guardian angel.

A blast of static from the TV behind you.

The one you sent me-

“Hey, how does the thing work?” Gojo says, accompanied by loud thumps. You cringe in silence.

He’s strange.

wc — 3.7k

tags — religion, Gojo has to reckon with the consequences of being the strongest, domesticity, attempted (failed) mugging/attack, Gojo kills a man for you (non graphic), Shoko’s a good friend, bs angel lore, I think of this like a prequel to reader’s villain arc lol, title from closer by nine inch nails

You wake up to a man standing over your bed. Understandably, you scramble backwards, hands over knees over legs over feet, all your limbs tangled together, until you bump into your headboard.

“Hi!” He says cheerily. “Wow, haven’t gotten that reaction in a while, not since- Anyways. I’m Gojo Satoru, your guardian angel. Please make breakfast, it’s 12 pm already and I’m starving. Your sleep habits are terrible.”

You shake, terrified. Nothing he said has gone through your brain.

“Um, hello? Deep breaths now. It’s really not that serious, can you stop that? Hellooooo,” he’s snapping his fingers in front of your face, trying to get through to you.

You panic and bat his hand away, but if you can touch him, that means he’s real. You’re not dreaming. There’s a strange man in your house calling himself your guardian angel. You try to pull yourself together enough to make a coherent sentence. What comes out is:

“Um. Guardian angel. What?”

“You don’t believe me,” he says.

You’ve heard it can be dangerous for people suffering from delusions to be forcefully brought out of their dreams. “No,” you say carefully. “I’m sure this is all a big understanding.”

“No, that’s okay,” he laughs. “I love getting to do this.”

Massive wings unfurl from his back. It’s a strange sight. The air seems to ripple around them, iridescent ebbs and flows of the universe to make space for the impossible. They seem to sprout right out of his shoulder blades.

It’s undeniable, irrefutable proof. Your brain can’t process this. It goes back to sleep.

You wake up to the smell of bacon burning in the kitchen.

Gojo hums as he cooks, his wings out. You’re almost worried they’ll get caught in the flames when suddenly you have something much more real to worry about.

“Ow!” He’s about to stick his finger into his mouth when you intervene, scolding him without even thinking about it.

“That’s dangerous! Don’t put your hands in your mouth, especially not if you’ve been cooking. Come here,” you tug him over to run his hands under the faucet.

“Who's the guardian angel again?” He teases, amused.

You answer him with another question. “Why are you cooking, anyways?”

“You’re starving me! It’s so late and you haven’t made breakfast yet - you know I could report you to the authorities for angel abuse, right?”

Somehow, you don’t believe him. There may very well be a division in heaven’s bureaucracy dedicated to looking after angels, but something about Gojo is just on the edge of unbelievable, like if you blink too hard, it might disappear without a trace. It’s the wings, probably.

You’re good at compartmentalizing, so you ignore all of the normal reactions someone would have to an angel randomly appearing in your apartment to instead make breakfast. Gojo already burned your favorite pan, so you stick it in the sink to soak while you rummage around for your second best set. Then you check the fridge. You’re out of butter and eggs. There are just two pieces of bacon left. Is it presumptuous to ask your angel to run errands with you?

You poke your head out of the fridge to look at Gojo, staring remorsefully at the burnt remains of his once-was-an-egg. He’s nursing the cut on his finger.

“Do you want to go grocery shopping?”

He smiles at you, slow and syrupy and-

He can’t do that. He’s beautiful as it is, as if God took extra time crafting him. Smiling only makes his beauty all the more painful, tugging at the strings of your heart. His snow white hair curls against the nape of his neck, a ruthlessly cute detail you notice when he tilts his head at you.

“I would love to. What’s grocery shopping?”

Introducing Gojo to the modern world is an exercise in both patience and childish wonder. There’s so much he doesn’t know. He tells you the last time he’s been on Earth was somewhere back in the 90’s.

“Like 1990? That’s pretty recent,” you remark.

“Like 90 CE.”

He’s delighted by everything, even the simplest of snacks, and begs you to add them to your cart. Ramune impresses him to no end. He’s enthralled by the taste of ice cream after the nice worker gives him a sample. You might really be reported to the Bureau of Angel Abuse at this point - all he’s interested in is junk food. It takes a while to finally wrangle him away from everything. In a way, it’s your fault because you hesitate to refuse an angel anything, and Gojo wants it all. You only manage to get him to agree to go home once you’ve tired him out.

There was a sense of reverence, at first.

There’s an angel living in your home. It’s hard to imagine getting used to that. Walking into the bathroom to the sight of Gojo brushing his teeth shirtless, his wings out, is a sight that will never get old. He manages to transform even the mundane into the divine. The sunlight strikes his hair at just the right angle to glow, giving him a faux-halo.

“Good morning,” he smiles. “I think I used up all your toothpaste.”

By day seven, you’ve wised up to Gojo’s tactics. If you don’t say no to anything, he’ll steamroll right over you, so you have to grow a backbone.

“Oh, Christ? Yeah, we’re old pals. We go wayyyyy back.”

“Please be quiet while I’m trying to pray.”

“We’re in the same therapy group, actually. He texts me all the time for advice-“

“Gojo. Shut. Up.”

He’s silent for all of a minute before he pipes up again. “I don’t think capital G up there would appreciate that.”

You have never missed a day of prayer in your life. No temptation has been able to sway you from your duties. Hunger, thirst, and pain all were swept away in the face of your faith. Were you seriously about to start now, being annoyed to death by a particularly useless angel?

The best solution to Gojo is always to ignore him. He needs attention like flowers need water.

Without it, he stalks off to sulk.

It’s night by the time he returns. He’s flying, which you usually don’t allow him to do, but you’ve driven out to a more remote, private church to pray. It’s owned by an old family friend, who handed you the keys without question. Half of this is for you, to experience god in the sanctity of nature, and half is for Gojo. You hate seeing him cooped up. Part of you feels like you’ve chained him down. You’re a trap in the form of a human, made to keep him grounded.

He touches down next to you, hair slicked to his forehead in sweat. When he stretches his arms, his wings move simultaneously. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him look more alive. He loves nothing like he loves flying, and you’re inclined to agree.

Maybe you’ll let him take you for another ride tonight. You love the feeling of the wind against your face, the sight of the landscape beneath you when he takes you up, the feeling in your stomach when he tucks his wings in and free-falls for fun. You’re not scared. Gojo would never let anything happen to you.

You might ask, later. Now, you send him off to the car ahead of you while you lock up. He’s cheerful as he heads off, whistling merrily. You’re glad flying has improved his mood. It’s equally painful for you whenever he’s upset with you. Perhaps it's simply a side effect of being a guardian angel .

The key is in the door when you feel the first hint of danger.

“All the money in your pockets, ma’am.”

Polite, for a thief.

“You’re not from around these parts.” He says as you spin around. “Should’ve known better than to go wandering around these woods alone. Whatever happens next is on you, sweetheart. If only you’d been a little more careful.”

He has a knife.

“What do you want? Money? You can have it.” It doesn’t matter much to you. As long as he leaves before Gojo comes back.

“Sometimes, ma’am, men don’t want anything but a thrill.”

Then he lunges at you, presses you against the wall, and pins you with a knife to your throat.

“Don’t scream now. No one would hear you anyways.”

He’s wrong about that part.

You hear him coming up the path before you see him.

“What’s taking you so long?” Gojo whines. “I wanna go home and watch Love Island already-oh.”

“Run!” Gojo might be an angel, but you’ve seen him cut himself making toast. He can bleed like any other man, gold ichor, yes, but blood still. You don’t want to see him hurt.

Instead, he sizes up your assailant, unfurls those beautiful wings - they always take your breath away - and in one swift move, simply tears you from his grasp. It’s faster than you can blink.

The man makes a muffled sound of fear and shock as Gojo seems to blink back into existence. You know he’s only moving too fast for your brains to comprehend.

“Stay here,” he deposits you on the grass behind him. It’s scorched, burned black from the temperature of his wings.

He turns up the heat. You didn’t think it was possible, but he was clearly holding back. The air seems to melt around him, heat waves shimmering off his skin, his white feathers. They glow with an otherworldly light, radiating heat.

You didn’t know true glory until this moment, and it frightens you. All other versions of blue fade in favor of Gojo’s eyes - a single, unyielding truth. He is a piece of heaven on earth, burning up. His anger is righteous. Holy. His true nature melts away his human appearance.

He’s a seraph, one of the highest order of angels.

You’ve never seen him fight before, don’t know how he gets his weapons or where he puts them. It just appears out of thin air. He carries a flaming sword in one hand, its pommel is white marble, its blade glass. Contrary to common belief, his voice doesn’t boom. In fact it’s all the more threatening because it is soft, a whisper so clearly heard it defies the laws of the world just because it can.

He raises the sword like an executioner and judge all in one.

You barely have time to close your eyes in horror when you realize what he’s about to do.

Real angels are not like the watered down, commercialized ones you can find today in any young adult TV show. Real angels are bloody. Real angels are the hand of God, ruthless and violent.

Real angels have no mercy.

You open your eyes again when you feel the now familiar heat on your skin.

He’s standing before you, beaming. It’s clear he expects praise. In heaven, it might’ve been given to him.

You can only stare at him in fear, not awe.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He steps closer, his burning wings flapping. “It’s okay. I got rid of him. You’re safe now.”

You’re ashamed a split second after it happens because it’s so pathetic, but you can’t help it. Your animal instincts react instinctively to the threat, sending you skittering back on your palms and ass away from him.

He freezes. His wings remain moving. Perhaps, like a shark and its gills, he simply can’t stop.

“You’re afraid of me,” he says, stunned. “Why are you afraid of me?”

The heat from his wings is baking your face. You’re afraid if you speak, your skin will crack. Still, Gojo shows no signs of leaving you alone. If anything, he’s about to get closer.

“Stop,” you squeak. You throw out your hands in front of you like the world’s most useless shield. Your eyes are watering from looking into his radiance.

Helpless, Gojo does something he hasn’t done since he was just a newborn angel.

He asks for help.

Shoko Ieri looks nothing like him, so that answers one question you’ve always had. Gojo tells you she’s another angel, although you don’t see her wings past the first minute you’ve met. After Gojo summons her to the scene and she catches the way you look at him, she keeps them carefully folded in.

She helps you into the passenger seat when you can’t make your legs move to walk back to your car. You won’t let Gojo touch you, feeling torn at the look on his face when you flinch back from him.

He’s sitting on a stool at the island while Shoko checks you over for injuries in the kitchen. There’s no major damage, just the after effects of shock and adrenaline working through your system.

“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” He says, hurt and confused.

“You fucking idiot. You colossal blockhead. You-“ Shoko pauses, not because she’s run out of things to say, but because she has too many. “It’s not about you, right now, okay? I know it’s hard for you to get your head out of your ass, but can you at least try to be supportive?”

Gojo makes a noise like he wants to protest, but you shift your weight and that draws his attention back to you. The look on your face makes him fall silent.

Shoko leaves after she’s completed her examination, though she doesn’t leave you helpless.

“Do you want to come with me?” She says, carefully. “I understand if you don’t want to be left alone with him right now.”

You shake your head.

“Listen, I know Gojo scared you. I’m sorry. He shouldn’t have. He’s always been too reckless - ugh. The stories I could tell you. But I promise you, he will never hurt you - not just because he cares about you, but because he’s literally not allowed to. He’s your guardian angel.”

“I know,” you say, and that’s the end of that.

There’s an uncomfortable silence after Shoko leaves. You’re not sure how to navigate the once easy relationship between you and Gojo now. Always unable to keep still, he breaks the silence first.

“Do you want to talk about it now?” He says softly. Everything about him is dulled, even the gleam of his brilliant hair. He’s back within his human skin, even more modestly than before, as if he has taken care to seal up every crack that his true nature could spill out of.

You choose your first question carefully. “Why has the lord sent a seraph to watch over me?”

Seraphs are the highest level of the hierarchy of angels. They maintain the order of the world, fulfilling God’s will. For one to have come to you-

True horror is sinking in. You love your saints. You worship them devoutly, knowing each story by heart. You could trace a path through the church library of all the books you’ve read on them, giving the history of each spine.

You do not want to be one of your saints.

Joan of Arc died at 19. Saint Agatha was canonized for being tortured violently.

By sending you such a strong protector, your lord may be condemning you to die young, but that’s not why you cry. You cry because you are too weak to fulfill his command.

Life is sweet. You don’t want to give up the taste of tart oranges on your tongue, the feeling of the babbling creek over your feet, the songs of the birds in the morning. You don’t want to give up Gojo’s wake up calls, or the feeling of flying.

All these selfish, worldly pleasures should mean nothing to you when faced with the lord’s call, and yet-

You resent it still.

You’re so confused by it all. Why were you given such a burden and told nothing about it? What does any of it mean?

“I don’t know. I’m sorry. We don’t get told anything but who we were assigned to.”

“Okay,” you say.

“That’s it? Okay? I scare the shit out of you, and all you have to say is okay?”

“Gojo, I don’t want to fight anymore. Let me just go to bed, please.”

You’re woken up not by the light of Gojo’s halo, as you’ve gotten used to when he comes to your room demanding breakfast, but by the sun. The curtains are open, and sunbeams stream in over your pillow.

Gojo is in the kitchen making - not burning - breakfast. He doesn’t turn when you pad into the kitchen on slippered feet, but you know he knows you’re there. You’re feeling much better. Sleep has refreshed you from the major shock to your system last night, and now you feel almost half bad for your reaction to him. He only wanted to help you, after all.

It’s not his fault he’s strong. At the end of the day, he’s just another gear in the universe, like you. Neither of you are important enough to be privy to the greater, divine plan, not even a seraph. You shouldn’t have snapped at him. You’re in this together.

You stand on tiptoe behind him to peer over his shoulder into the pan.

“I’m making you breakfast,” he says. Is it just you, or does he seem almost shy?

What an impact you’ve had on him. Your heart breaks. You’ve only known him to be bold and uncaring of human customs like politeness. You didn’t think it would upset you to see him learn manners, and yet-

It’s a consequence of your rejection last night, as if he’s worried you’ll pull away again. This isn’t what you wanted, ever.

“We should talk,” you say.

“Yeah. We should.” He still won’t turn around, avoiding eye contact.

Before you can speak, he blurts out, “ Do you not want me to be your angel anymore?”

“Of course not,” you say, reaching out for him. He’s hesitant to let you pull him closer, take his hands in yours. “Gojo, why would you think that?”

“You’re scared of me,” he says, almost petulantly, like a sulking child. “You don’t like me anymore.”

“Gojo,” you can think of nothing to say but his name. Sweet Gojo. Selfish Gojo. Gojo, who you’ve gotten used to having around. Gojo, who has infiltrated your life and now thinks to leave like you can kick him out like that. Like you would. Gojo, who you’re fond of in a way you can’t articulate, despite the way he takes and takes from you. Gojo, who you’re willing to keep, despite everything.

Gojo, who you care about, enough to want him to stay.

Gojo, who cares about you, enough to want to leave.

He takes this like a rebuff and wrenches his hands out of yours.

You grab his face and forcefully drag his attention back to you. His eyes are wild like a trapped animal, but there’s no sign of fire. He’s carefully dampened any kind of godliness in him.

“Oh, Gojo. Please don’t. I want you with me, I promise. I would never ask you to leave.”

“You don’t have to,” he says grimly. A soldier to the end. He knows how to do the hard things. Sometimes, you have to cut the rot out before the wound festers.

“I am scared of you - please don’t make that face. You’re breaking my heart.”

“Your heart? What about mine?” He bristles.

“I trust you. Let me prove it. Take your wings out again. Show me your true self.”

“After seeing how you reacted?” He scoffs, turning defensive. You’ve exhausted his goodness, and now his emotions are getting the better of him, making the situation ugly. But you knew this would happen.

You know him.

And you know how to deal with him.

“Come on,” you say. “Think of it like exposure therapy.”

“I don’t want to see you look at me like that again,” he admits.

“I know you won’t hurt me,” you say. “Please. Do you trust me?”

He ends up on the ground cross legged, his wings spread, back to you. His wings are fiery, but carefully controlled. He won’t burn you.

You start small, running your hands all over his wings. They rustle underneath your touch like startled animals. When you tug gently at the ends, extending them to their full length, you realize how monstrous his wingspan truly is. From tip to tip, they’re larger than a grown man is tall. Your fingers creep along the thin ridge of his radius, deceptively thin beneath your fingers. If you didn’t know better, it would snap easily with just the barest hint of pressure.

He makes a small noise. You jerk back, worried you’ve actually bent the bone, but he’s fine. He pushes his wings back under your hands like a puppy seeking attention.

From the radius, you trail along the top edge to his metacarpus, then down to his feathers, all the way back to his scapula. From there, it’s only a few inches over to his actual shoulder blades. He shudders when you touch him there, your fingertips lightly grazing over the bone. You press down gently. His muscles flex under your skin, tense and wound up.

You realize that he's been suspiciously quiet for a while. He’s too still, as if he’s purposely holding himself in place. Have you hurt him without knowing? Would he tell you if you had?

“Gojo?” You pull your hands away from his wings and he shudders as if he’s been burned. “Look at me.”

He won’t turn, so you grab him by the chin and force his head up so you can look him in the face. Even down on the floor like this, he’s tall. His face is pink, his eyes wide like he’s been stunned. He looks almost like he’s in pain.

“What’s wrong? Why didn’t you say anything? Does it hurt?” You fret over him.

“Doesn’t,” he says hoarsely. “Feels too good.”

You freeze. It’s this sight of an angel in all his celestial grace wrecked by your touch, brought down by just the brush of your fingers, that makes you realize it.

It feels good to have an angel at your feet.

#sera writes #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader

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jubileemon · 24 days

Text

A Serpent Allowed Into Heaven

It was a snake that first tempted Eve. Fittingly, it's a snake that is the first sinner in hell to be redeemed. Sir Pentious was only supposed to be a one-off villain, but Vivienne Medrano brought him back as the second guest in the series. Keeping with sins being turned around into virtues, Sir Pentious converts fluently from a harmless villain who made an impact for the whole exorcism.

His freedom seems based on no Overlord considering him to be a soul worthy of collecting, and was only taken in by the Vees for a one-off job to spy on the Hotel because he’s a desperate nobody with no direct ties to them that Charlie would easily take pity on. Indeed she does, even after he’s outed as a spy for the Vees and was willing to give him a second chance for real redemption.

His chaos and paranoia around the hotel during his first week leads to Vaggie and Charlie taking action in two pivotal ways:

Firstly, Vaggie confiscated Pentious' weapons and puts Alastor in possession of his Egg Boiz. While accompanying Alastor for the day, one of his eggs Frank accidentally ends up following him into a meeting with his fellow Overlords. Frank was so unnoticeable that he’s used by Alastor to spy on Carmilla, allowing Alastor to learn that she knows how angels can be killed which is a valuable piece of information that eventually leads to the hotel fighting back against the Exorcists six months later. As another insult to Vox for sending Pentious to the hotel in the first place, because Pentious doesn't believe Frank when he blabs about it when recounting his day. According to him, “they say insane shit all the time!”

That knowledge remains hidden, until there's only a month left until the Exorcists return and Alastor uses Charlie’s desperation to strike a deal with her in exchange for the secret that was the very thing he was trying to prevent.

Secondly, Charlie decides to initiate a trust exercise in response to Pentious' behavior. This leads to a chaotic exercise where the group is forced to fight together in a turf war. Knowing Sir Pentious wouldn't stand a chance, Angel Dust chose to rescue him, marking their first act of camaraderie and the group starting to become friends.

After Mimzy caused loan sharks to attack the hotel, Sir Pentious rescued Niffty from the carnage, instantly proving Lucifer wrong about sinners. However, this goes unnoticed because Lucifer and Charlie are too busy arguing. Interestingly, the choice of character Sir Pentious protects is Niffty, Adam's future executioner.

Lastly, during the battle against the Exorcists, Sir Pentious makes a selfless charge on Adam in his death machine. Since Sir Pentious is just a nameless soldier to Adam that he has no personal vendetta with. In "Welcome To Heaven", his antics kept him out of focus the whole court assessment, but he forgoes beating him down like Alastor and Charlie and instantly vaporises him on sight. This act not only sets off Charlie's demon form and the ensuing scuffle that allows Lucifer to intervene, but leads Sir Pentious to be ascended to Heaven for his sacrifice as undisputed proof to Sera that sinners can be redeemed.

Having cleared his conscience, humbled himself, and sacrificed himself for his friends, Sir Pentious is the first sinner to be admitted into Heaven. This is not only significant because Charlie's plan actually worked, but it is also important that a serpentine being is the first to escape Hell.

According to the story of Original Sin, Eve was first tempted to eat the forbidden fruit by a serpent. After Adam and Eve's betrayal is discovered by God, the serpent is also punished for being the instigator and is forced to crawl on its belly for its whole life. Considering that the serpent initiated humanity's fall from grace, Sir Pentious's acceptance into Heaven makes an even bigger point that any sinner can be redeemed.

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queer-here-and-in-fear · 3 months

Text

underneath (silver linings are found)

A03 version

tags:

Alastor & Charlie Magne, Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Charlie Magne | Morningstar, Lilith Magne | Morningstar, Post-Canon, Feel-good, Protective Charlie Magne, Lilith Magne is a Bitch, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Lilith Magne owns Alastor's Soul, owned actually. past tense, Soft Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), look. hes technically a bit ooc but its also 2 years post canon SUE ME, Alastor Has a Heart (Hazbin Hotel)

note: uhh hope this is good!! my first hazbin fic lol!!! if you like this feel free to send me writing or art requests in the comments, or on my tumblr, @queer-here-and-in-fear!!

It had been exactly two months and three days since Alastor had last grinned, and Charlie was starting to lose it a little. She wasn’t the only one in the hotel to notice, no, Vaggie had been giving Alastor weird looks since it started, and Angel Dust had been joking about it up and down, but nobody else was concerned. It wasn’t that they didn’t care, but so much had been happening, Charlie couldn’t really blame them for not asking.

But someone had too.

It wasn’t like there was any reason for this, at least none that Charlie could figure out. Everything was better now. Sir Pentious wasn’t dead, he was ok (even if he didn’t remember them - because they could fix that, they couldn’t fix death), they had managed to push back extermination while heavens court deliberated, and Alastor wasn’t stuck in the deal with Charlies mom anymore, he was free. So everything was supposed to better.

.. But something was still wrong, because Alastor still wasn’t grinning. He was still smiling, sure, but it didn’t reach his eyes and compared to the big wide grin Charlie had grown to know over the past two years; it wasn’t much. He was still Alastor, Charlie knew it wasn’t all just faked because of the deal with her mom, but.. it was odd.

She had tried her best to ignore it, really, she had tried so hard. Alastor warned them (in what she could swear was meant to be a moment of vulnerability, holy shit her hotel was working) that he was gonna need some time to get better. That was okay by Charlie, she knew a solid half of that deal was just meaningless torture on her moms part (which was not messing with her head, thank you very much.)

It had been two months, though, and Alastor had said he felt mostly better now, and he still wasn’t grinning. Charlie wasn’t sure the last time she had seen his teeth where he wasn’t eating or baring them. It was a stupid, small thing to get caught up when everything was better and they were working to make it even more better, but she couldn’t ignore it anymore. She was going to go Nifty levels of insane if she keeped trying to ignore it.

So, after a long long hour of pacing and ringing her hands and running her fingers through her hair and ranting aloud to herself (she wasn’t sure she could thank her dad enough for the sound proof room), she slid out of her room and into the lobby. She had a good feeling Alastor was in there, and it took about two steps into the lobby and a quick look around to prove herself right.

“Oh, Charlie, my dear! Any reason why you’re up at the devils hour?” Alastor looked up from his book and asked with a small little smile, the hum of radio static steady under his voice, and Charlie felt her heart ease a bit up at the soft sight. Right.

There was another reason she hadn’t asked yet, other than her anxiety - Alastor was genuinely getting better. She could see it now as Alastor placed his book on the table and shifted to the side to give her room to sit down. He looked, and acted, genuinely better.

All his movements felt lighter now; less deliberate, more genuine. She was pretty sure Husk had said it best one night when they were talking over whisky. (“I damn knew somethin’ was wrong with the bastard when he came back. He was all tight strung and quick spoke - wasn’t like that before. I swear, I thought he had been a professional actor past seven years, he did nothing naturally! Feels more normal now, and I’m damn glad for it.”)

“Just a bit antsy,” she answered with a smile she was pretty sure held her painfully obvious anxiety. She slid into the spot Alastor had made for her and quickly pulled her ankles up to sit criss-cross, her hands running over her legs and her eyes, for the moment, glued to her lap. She knew her anxious tells were painfully obvious, but she was pretty sure trying to act normal would make her combust. After a second, her gaze drifted back up to Alastor, “what about you?”

“I’m doing just splendid darling!” He answered with an ease that soothed Charlie a bit. It was.. nicer to hear him speak now, knowing that every word was of his free will. Even if he was lying, at least he was choosing to lie. That had to count for something. “Say, Charlie, what has you oh so antsy at this witching hour?”

“I just,” she cut herself off and took a deep breath before looking back to Alastor, and explaining, “ok, so - I know a lot has changed and a lot is changing and I’m ok with that, of course I am! And if you don’t want to answer that’s completely fine, no bad blood - and no matter what you do answer, if you even choose too - I won’t be mad or anything. I just - I have a question. For you.”

Alastor blinked, giving her a blank stare for a moment as he processed the ramble. After a moment though, he gave Charlie another of his too small smiles and a clapped a hand on to her shoulder. “Well, ask away my dear! No need to leave me or yourself waiting any longer now.” He said, giving her an expectant look.

It took Charlie another five seconds of painfully staring at her lap before the words wouldn’t be held in anymore, and the whole question came tumbling out so fast Charlie was pretty sure it counted as one word- “why haven’t you been grinning at all?”

It took about another two seconds of no answer until Charlie was rambling again, the words spilling out before she could really stop them. “I mean, it’s not like you have to, of course not! I would never make you do anything you don’t want too, I’m not like my mom, I’m just.. concerned, I guess. You used to grin all the time and now you don’t and-”

Alastor cleared his throat and Charlie snapped her head up so fast she vaguely worried she was going to give herself a neck injury. “I take no offense to the question, Charlie,” he started, “and my will is not so easily swayed that I will change my behavior just because of a simple question you asked.”

“Right, right, of course,” Charlie said, hands still ringing in her lap as she practically brimmed with anxiety.

There was another uncomfortable silence before Alastor started speaking again. Just a year or two ago Charlie would’ve called herself stupid for even thinking it, but now she could recognize the furrow to his brow as nervousness. “I will answer your question. I just.. would like to give some context first. Charlie, do you know how your mother could be cruel?”

Charlie did. She couldn’t unknow it, because it all made her sick. The same women who preached about being their to impower demon kind could torture one of them, needlessly. She fucking sowed his mouth half shut instead of just making a vocal deal about it like a normal person to- to fucking what, prove a point? Alastor had been cooperating, he hadn’t done anything, and she fucking hurt him for fun while playing at being an angel-

It was only when Alastor’s gentle hand tapped against the point of her horn she realized she had horns to be tapped, and she cleared her throat with embarrassment. “I’ll take that for a yes,” Alastor started, a small bit of brimming affection in his tone, “there was.. one more incident of that I haven’t brought up yet.”

The words already set a chill to Charlies spine and her mind racing, a million god awful and painful to think about possibilities running through her head, but Alastor’s next question made her blood run cold. “Do you remember a single time I wasn’t grinning before the deal was broken?”

Charlie.. Charlie couldn’t, could she? That was why she was so concerned about his lack of teeth baring in the first place, it was so normal that the loss of it sent her mind spinning. But now that she thought to it, the dates lining up perfectly - oh. She was the last to realize, wasn’t she.

“... No. You couldn’t stop grinning, could you?” She whispered with mounting horror.

Alastor gave a small nod. “That is true.”

Charlie suddenly threw herself back on the couch, groaning with painful frustration and hiding her face in her hands. “Of course you didn’t want to grin while crying! Shit, how didn’t I realize it earlier? I- fuck, I could’ve done something, I could’ve helped you.”

Alastor blinked, surprised by the sudden outburst. Hesitantly, he reached down with a comforting hand, lightly patting her shoulder. “There there, my demon belle. It is no bad blood you didn’t get me out earlier - I’m out now, am I not? As well, it might’ve been.. for the best, that the deal stayed as it was for a while. Even if it was terribly unpleasant.”

That caught Charlies attention as she sat up again, looking over to Alastor with pure, unmarred confusion covering her face. “.. What do you mean it’s for the better the deal stayed in place? The deal nearly got you killed, like.. twice!” She said, waving her hands around with frustration.

“..I’ll concede, it is true that the deal did cause me great detriment,” Alastor said, before continuing, “however - it wasn’t all bad. I would’ve never came to the hotel if your mother didn’t force me too.” He pointed out with a small smile on his lips, “I would’ve never met Vagatha, or Angel Dust, or our dear Sir Repentious, or even-” he reached down, suddenly tapping Charlie on the nose, “you, my dear.”

Charlie laughed softly before turning back around again, guilt still brimming under her voice. “Sure, I guess, but you should have never been forced to stay. I wanted that to be a choice, y’know, and you, my co-host, were forced and I didn’t even know. It just.. it bothers me.”

“Well, even if the situation was forced, my affection wasn’t,” Alastor held up one finger to stop Charlie from contesting him, “I know it wasn’t, because for a long long time before you freed me, I had resentment building.” Charlie blinked, staring up at him with surprise.

“I wanted to get my just-deserts, my bloody vengeance in glorious fashion once my wings were unclipped - however, after so long of having only you as a symbol of your mother, I missed sight of who was at fault,” Charlie listened, vaguely recognizing the emotion in his voice as guilt. “I wanted to get vengeance upon you, even when I was more than aware you weren’t at fault.”

“However, over time, that rage faded - not for your mother, of course, but for you. After so many nights of you healing wounds and helping souls and showing me kindness, even as I loudly detested everything you stood for with a grin on my face, I realized that you weren’t the one to blame. So, really, it was for the best.”

Charlie blinked up at him, before slowing leaning over and resting her head on Alastor’s shoulder, taking in the warm and familiar silence of the hotel lobby.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

#nox text posts #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #alastor the radio demon #charlie morningstar #hazbin alastor #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel charlie #charlie magne #the radio demon

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purplecoffee13 · 5 months

Text

‘Heaven’s On Fire’ - thin lines pt. 1*

“I want it all, give me what you got. It’s hunger in your eyes. I’m getting closer, baby hear me breathe” ~ Heaven’s On Fire by KISS

Summary: “You meet the infamous rockstar Harry Styles after your opera performance. He is an arrogant and self-centered prick, but you can't help but feel incredibly attracted to him.”

Wc: 4.6k

Tropes: rockstar!Harry X opera singer!MC

Warnings: oral (fem!receiving), Harry being a cocky asshole, degradation, dirty talk, mention of exhibitionism, dom & sub, slight age gap (19 & 23)

A/N: Hey! Welcome to this new series of mine! This will include a little bit of darker Harry, so don’t expect a lot of lovey dovey things here. Isn’t proof read so sorry for mistakes. Also be sure to check every chapter’s warnings before u go on with reading

************************************************

The Opera.

Of all places, that's where Harry's team had decided to send him to give him some 'good press'. It was absolutely ridiculous. He wasn't even allowed to bring a date. They knew he'd run off with them.

In a black suit, Harry stood outside in the common room of the theatre, waiting for the dreadful announcement that the two hours of high notes and absurd costumes could commence. He ran his hands through his now long hair, which he had spent a year growing out. It was freshly washed, and parts of his curls were still damp.

A guiding hand was put on Harry's back by Rob, his manager, and he was led to their seats. Harry was still being a grump to his manager, but Rob was used to it by now.

Harry had tarnished his image enough over the past two years, and he was in dire need of a clean slate. The media would only be so nice before sales started to decline.

It was a difficult job, what Rob had been put up to. While Harry's band mates knew how to keep their antics hidden from the public eye, Harry reveled in being in it. Mikey, his drummer and lifelong friend, had once called him a proper psychopath after two consecutive nights in a sex club somewhere deep in Hollywood.

There was no denying it, Harry had completely changed from the moment he came into the public eye. He wasn't the sweetest kid, but he'd always been pretty decent. But the flash of the cameras, the whiskeys and the lines of coke were enough to change a man. For the better, he thought. The people around him had a different opinion about it, but he didn't care. As long as he delivered on stage, no one batted an eye at him.

And he did deliver, both on stage and off of it. More than half of the bands' songs were written by Harry, whose impeccable songwriting proved itself time and time again.

But over the last few months, there had been one too many brawls at clubs, where paparazzi would catch a coked out Harry trying to beat up some local guy. It was also becoming difficult for the media to keep track on the amount of women he was fucking, and above all, his outspoken, atheist outlook on live didn't help much either.

So, Rob had sent Harry to a few socially acceptable events, where he'd have to make small talk and be nice, and look like he was actually dressed for the occasion.

Harry hated it, and he despised Rob for thinking going the opera would be a good idea. Nevertheless, he sat down, slightly slouched, and tried not to sigh too hard as he waited for the lights to dim.

It'd be a good way to get some sleep; he'd need it.

Harry had already closed his eyes for a few minutes when all of a sudden an angelic voice hit his ear drums, your voice. His eyes softly fluttered open, and he was met with the sight of an actual angel. Well, at least he thought.

On stage, you singing with such adoration and love in her voice that Harry could feel it, and despite not knowing what the play could've possibly been about as he had not informed himself, he knew your character was supposed to be in love.

From that second on, Harry's eyes were wide open. He'd rest them whenever you were not there, and was wide awake as soon as you, his little nightingale, would bless the room with your presence and your voice again. As the opera slowly worked its way to its climax, Harry leaned over to Rob.

"I need you to get me backstage."

"Why?" Rob turned to his client, a frown on his face.

"She has a beautiful voice. I want to tell her in person." He turned to his manager, who was eyeing him skeptically. Of course he thought Harry was getting in there for a quick fuck, and while those were exactly his intentions, he didn't need Rob to know. "What? You were the one who wanted me to have respectable acquittances."

"Right... you're right. I'll be back in a minute." He said before getting up and tasking care of Harry's commands.

Harry couldn't do anything else for the rest of the play other than think about his little nightingale in all the ways he wanted to have you.

(((|)))

Opening night was the most nerve racking thing you had ever experienced, but despite your fears, the opera had played out wonderfully. The overwhelming amount of applause at the end made you tear up, and the first few minutes back in your changing room consisted of nothing but staring out into the distance, thinking about how lucky you were to have ended up where you had.

You had always wanted to sing, ever since you was a little girl. You had always had the gift, but your parents didn't really believe in the unstable career that came with singing as a profession. That was, until you were accepted for the role of Liesl von Trapp in a sound of music musical held in the region's biggest theatre and ended up being scouted by your current manager, Reece.

This role was your ticket into the business, he'd said. After this, you would be able to work your way to what you truly wanted to do. Write songs. It was all you've ever wanted to do, but your operatic voice was the gateway into record deals.

'You need to be heard first, then you can write your story'. That's what Reece had told you, and you trusted him. Your succes was money straight into his pockets, so he would do what was best for you and your career, at least you assumed.

Your rattling mind was interrupted by a knock on your door. You watched through the mirror as the door opened, and Reece popped in.

"Good job, Y/N, truly." He said as he walked over to you. You turned around to get up and gave him a hug, your stomach tingling at the smell of his perfume. Reece always smelled very good.

You had slowly started to develop a slight crush on your manager. At first, you weren't attracted to him at all. In fact, you knew he had a girlfriend of a couple years so the thought never even entered your mind.

But then, one night, after a business dinner, Reece offered to get a drink at the local bar. You agreed and together you took off the a dive bar near the restaurant. It was a very fun night and you both got quite tipsy, and barriers had slowly faded. His hand lingered on yours very long, as did his gaze. And he knew just what to say to make you blush, then outwardly admitted he liked to get you flustered.

Since that night, Reece has been a confusing push and pull game for you. Some days he is extra touchy, others he acts like you're not even close to being friends. He doesn't like it when you talk to other guys, he'll act very distant and walk around with his jaw clenched, but at the important events he always brings his girlfriend. It's excruciating, but the second he touches you, all the bad parts of him fade into the nothingness.

"There is someone who wanted to compliment you in person." He says with a smirk on his face, and you tilt your head at the twinkle in his eyes.

You had to try your hardest not to let your mouth fall open as none other than Harry Styles walked through the door. His tall frame, dressed in a black suit, strolled into the room with his hands on his back. His long hair fell over his shoulders and you didn't think you'd ever seen a prettier man in your life.

"Harry, this is Y/N Y/L/N. And Y/N, this is Harry Styles." Reece introduced you two as you walked towards Harry to shake his hand.

"I know— I mean, nice to meet you." You corrected yourself quickly in hopes of not seeming like too much of a fan girl. Harry and his band had made some awesome songs and you had always been fascinated with his songwriting. You felt like you were in a dream.

"Nice to meet you too." His low voice made your cheeks heat up, and he caught it. The corners of his mouth tugged up, and then he turned to Reece. "My manager wanted to talk to you. He's outside."

Reece nodded, but stayed put. "I'll contact him."

Harry's nice gaze turned a bit cold. Could that guy not take a hint? Or did he not want to? Nevertheless, Harry didn't like not getting his way. Then, as if the gods had decided to favor him, Reece's phone rang. He silently excused himself as he slowly walked towards the door.

"Hi baby... yes, I'm in Y/N's dressing room right now— no I'll be right down there." He said, looking at you the whole time. You tried to ignore the pang in your chest at the sound of him talking to his girlfriend, who he of course belonged to. "Come on, babe, you know— okay, okay, fine."

He hung up the phone and put it in his pocket, a sigh leaving his mouth. "I'll be back shortly."

Then, Reece was gone. Open field, Harry thought.

He didn't miss the way you looked at Reece, but he didn't give two shits about that. Harry could make you forget about him in fifteen minutes, if you'd let him.

You were standing in front of him, not very sure of what to do or say, so Harry decided to be the one to talk first.

"You did a really great job on that stage." He complimented you, and you looked down at the floor, a sweet smile on your face while you fiddled with your hands.

"Thank you." You replied, forcing yourself to meet his eyes as you didn't want to be rude. "I... uhm, I really like your music. Your songwriting is amazing."

"Yeah?" Harry smirked, taking the smallest step towards you, and your eyes widened like a deer in headlights. You were very nervous for a multitude of reasons, and his raspy voice didn't make it any less scary to talk to him.

"Yes, I can always feel your lyrics, even if it isn't a necessarily familiar experience for me. I don't know how you do it." You beamed as you turned around and walked towards your vanity desk, grabbing the pitcher on it and pouring some water into an empty glass. "Would you like some water?"

When you turned around with the glass in your hand, Harry was standing in front of you, leaned against the back of the couch behind him. You extended your hand out, and he took the glass from you.

"Thank you." He said, and you nodded.

"Was it not too boring? The opera, I mean." You couldn't help but ask. You'd always felt like they were a bit of a yawn, but being on stage was so thrilling that it wasn't half as boring as it might've been for the audience. Harry raised his eyebrows.

"With you in it? Absolutely not." He shook his head before taking a sip from the water, and you couldn't contain the smile that crept onto your face. Harry thought it was adorable, how much his words affected you, the rose colored cheeks that came with it. Your doe eyes that looked up at him with a desperation to please, to be liked. It was innocent, and that was dangerous, for the both of you.

Harry just wanted to take you right then and there and show you all the ways you could please him, then reward you with a string of orgasms for yourself. But he had a feeling that was a bit of a foreign concept to you, something that only made him want you more.

You were leaning against your vanity desk with your hands leaning on the table, when Harry got up and stalked towards you. Just the way he walked was so intimidating and a bit scary; you felt like you had to run. Your heart began to beat faster with every step he took towards you until finally he stood in front of you, way closer than necessary. He leaned forward and you felt your breath hitch in your throat, the smell of his aftershave making you a bit dizzy. A thud on the desk made you jump ever so slightly and upon looking down you saw the glass back on the table.

When your gaze met Harry's again, he had stepped back, knowing exactly what he needed to now. It was evident in his face; he knew you were attracted to him.

You tried to steady your breathing, gripping the desk until your knuckles turned white. He caught you off guard, and you were feeling so many things at once, but somehow it was overruled by the ache between your legs.

"Are you a virgin?" He asked, and at that very moment, you felt like pleading the earth to suck you under.

"What?" You asked, offended by the question. Not because it was necessarily insulting, but she didn't like to think she had the word 'virgin' written on her face. It couldn't have been that obvious, could it?

"I'll take that as a yes." He tilted his head. "So you're not fucking your manager?"

What the fuck?

You were flabbergasted by the rudeness of Harry. You knew he wasn't exactly the sweetest guy around — you didn't miss the news articles about him — but you thought he'd at least be decent in conversation.

"What?! N-no!" Your eyes were wide and you didn't know what to say. If Harry would tell people that you were sleeping with your manager — which you weren't —, Reece would never look at you again. He'd drop you and then your career would be destroyed.

"How old are you?" He went on, not paying attention to the quiver in your voice and the stressed out look on your face.

"Harry, why would you—"

"I asked you a question." He stepped in front of you, towering over you now. The low growl was extremely stern and the sheer sound of his voice made your stomach turn. Whether that was in a good way or bad way, you didn't really know.

"Sorry." You looked up at him, too scared to take your eyes off of him and accidentally pissing him off again. "I’m nineteen.”

Harry’s cock strained in his pants at the way you immediately obeyed him. Your age did explain your virginity though; he thought you were older. Four years was not a very big age difference, but your sexual knowledge did differ a lot. But that didn’t matter, he’d teach you.

“Good girl.” Harry whispered as he took your hand and stepped backward until he could sit on the back rest of the couch again. You slowly walked with him, it only seeming fit if he was holding your hand. He wanted you to follow, and you wanted to follow him. He was unprofessional, and rude, but you still wanted to do everything he said.

“How is it that a pretty girl like you has never been touched before, huh?” He asked, the sweet tone of his voice distracting from the vulgar question that had your eyes nearly pop out of your sockets. When you didn’t answer him, he decided to make up some theories himself. “Are you waiting for your knight in shining armor, hmm? Or are you waiting for your manager to dump his girlfriend and decide to fuck you instead?”

That hit you like a slap in the face. You knew you wouldn’t be able to deny it with a straight face, so you turned around. But upon trying to get away from him, he pulled you back by your wrist until you were standing between his legs, your back against him. He snakes his left arm around your waist to pull you into him, and your eyes widened when you felt something you knew you shouldn’t be feeling.

You did not want to get in trouble, and your heart was racing at the awareness that the door was not locked, but you panties were ruined anyway. If confused you, why the knowledge of this being bad, forbidden or even risky, was making you all the more hot for it.

“It’s okay baby, your secret’s safe with me.” He purred, mouth on your ear after stroking your hair away from it. You spotted the sight of you two in the mirror, and you had to restrain yourself from letting out a whimper.

Harry was good at body language, and thus he knew you wanted him to touch you, even if you were too afraid to admit it yourself. There wasn’t an explicit yes yet, but there wasn’t talks of a ‘no’ either so Harry would carry on.

“You know, baby, I can teach you a thing or two.” He spoke up again, his fingertips stroking over your thigh as he talked to you. You swallowed, not being able to think straight with his breath in your neck and his hands on you like this. “Have you all prepared for when your little manager makes up his mind.”

That piqued your interest. You were quite insecure about the whole situation with Reece, especially because he was so much older and more experienced. You had never even seen a cock in real life, and while you had watched and read a thing or two, you didn’t have any actual sexual experiences — vibrator excluded.

You had always been quite the introvert, and no one ever sparked the desire in you to have sex. You were also the one to run away when things got too real or too intimate, and the unattainable part when it came to Reece is what made your attraction turn into a full blown crush. You could want him from a distance.

But what if the day indeed came, and you were unprepared? Then what? You didn’t want to disappoint Reece. You wanted it to be worth it for him, if he’d ever leave his girlfriend.

“What do you say, baby? Will you let me show you?” He asked, and then started kissing your neck. Involuntarily, your eyes started to roll back, and you felt yourself starting to relax in his hands, but that was only for a second before you came back to your senses.

“Harry… we— I don’t want to be unprofessional.” You squeaked out, trying to pull his arm off your waist, but you weren’t nearly strong enough.

“Weak excuse.” Harry scoffed, his fingers nearing the fabric of your black mini dress, now dangerously close to your soaked underwear. You shut your eyes tightly, trying to think of a better reason not to do this, but your mind wasn’t helping you at all.

“The door is unlocked.” You sounded out of breath, and it made Harry grin. You were trying so hard to resist, it would be easier and more enjoyable if you just gave in.

“That’s true.” Harry agreed, and you sighed, not sure whether it was out of relief or disappointment. “But you like that, don’t you? The idea that you could get caught any time.”

Harry’s fingers were grazing your panties, and he chuckled at the feeling of drenched fabric against his hand. He let you out of his grip and moved you until you were standing straight. He waited for a few seconds, but you weren’t moving. You were waiting, for him. The smirk on his face reached from ear to ear as he reveled in how right he was about you. He hiked up your dress a bit and pulled down your panties, letting them fall to your feet.

In a swift move, he pulled you back against him again, your bare ass now pressed against his jeans. He groaned at the sight of it, but focused back you. Then, he caught it, the way you were staring at you and him through the mirror. He met your eyes through the glass, and feeling like you’d been caught, you quickly looked away. In a matter of seconds, Harry’s hand was on your chin, directing your head back to the tall reflective glass.

“No, no. Watch yourself.” He ordered, before grazing his fingers over your slit. You gasped at the contact, and your head tilted back ever so slightly. Harry took it as a sign of full compliance; he knew better than to wait on a verbal answer by now. He knew you wouldn’t admit it, because it would be easier to pretend like it didn’t happen afterwards.

From that moment, Harry begin to suck on your neck as he rubbed circles on your clit, and held you in place with his free hand.

“You never answered my question, love.” He said lowly. “Tell me, do you like the idea of getting caught?”

“Yes.” You whispered, the confession feeling to scandalous to say it in anything other than a hushed tone.

“That’s what I thought.” Harry said proudly, fingers nearing your entrance. You whimpered in slight pain when two of his fingers slid inside you at the same time. It was easy, because of how wet you were, but it besides your vibrator there had never really been anything in there before, and it had been a while since your vibrator.

“God, you’re fucking tight.” Harry groaned in delight, mostly to himself. His fingers curled inside of you and your entire body jerked up. He held you into place with his other arm, but the devilish smile on his face wasn’t missed by you. You were still watching his every move through that mirror. “And so reactive.”

“Harry… what if someone walks in?” You tried to argue, and you weren’t even sure why because if it were up to you, his fingers would stay inside of you forever. But you still felt like you were breaking the rules, like you were betraying Reece. Which, you instantly realized, was absolutely ridiculous because he was currently with his girlfriend.

“I think we just established that you wouldn’t care very much about that, and I don’t either.” He rasped, his fingers pumping in and out of you at a lazy pace. “And you’ll do whatever I tell you, won’t you?”

You sighed. “Yes.”

“Exactly.” He planted a few kisses in your neck. “So even if someone would walk in, I wouldn’t stop until I have you cumming all over my fingers.”

You let out a soft moan at the sinful image he created with his words, and he let his free hand travel to your clit as he started fingering you faster and faster.

“Yeah? You like that, baby?” His voice was becoming more strained with every second, because he was trying his hardest to keep himself from cumming inside his pants. Especially when you hummed in agreement.

He didn’t have this problem with other people, but then again he didn’t take this much time with others. You were different, in this sense. Harry knew that he needed to ease you into this, otherwise you’d never agree. And there was something about you, he guessed it was your pure aura, that made him want you more than he had ever wanted a girl before. He needed to fuck you, so he wouldn’t mind taking a detour.

“Can you see it yet, him walking through the door and seeing your little pussy getting wrecked by my fingers?” He knew you were getting dangerously close to your orgasm. “Tell me.”

“Shit— yes!” You cried out, not being able to think straight with that vision clouding your mind.

“But you wouldn’t stop me, would you? You’d let me fuck you with my fingers until I’ve had enough, right?” He asked, but you knew these were all rhetoric questions. Harry knew you were completely at his mercy, and somehow he had found out how much you got off on that too.

“Yeah— ah! I… would.” Your legs had began to shake and you knew your high was just around the corner. Harry wasn’t slowing down, and neither were the gasps and whimpers that left your mouth as he worked his magic on your clit with his other hand.

“You’d even let me fuck you in front of him if I wanted to, wouldn’t you? Fuck you stupid against that mirror while he watches you fall apart for me. You’d get off on it.”

“Harry!” You begged. You just wanted a release at this point, and you were on the brink of it. He rubbed your clit harder, and you began to see stars.

“Go on, you can cum now, knowing you’re nothing more but a desperate slut, just begging to be my personal fuck toy.” He said, as you came all over his fingers with a string of agreeing words leaving your mouth. “There you go, you wanted it so bad, huh? Good fucking girl.”

You panted as Harry’s fingers worked you through your high, and you had let your body lean against him, too tired to hold yourself up. You were extremely out of breath, but barely had time to recover when there was a knock on your door. You stepped forward, away from Harry, and pulled your dress down. Turning around and leaning against the vanity just like you were before Harry decided to give you an orgasm.

In the mean time, Harry had leaned down and grabbed your panties, quickly stuffing them in his pockets.

“C– come in!” Your voice sounded hoarse, but you acted like nothing happened as an unfamiliar head peeked around the door. Harry turned around to see who it was and smiled at the man who had knocked.

“Hey, Rob!” He said, sounding way too smug and casual for your liking.

“Thought I’d find you here.” Rob said, sounding a little bit disappointed with Harry, and you crossed your arms, feeling too naked, still. It felt like this Rob guy could see right through you and Harry’s antics, and you were feeling very exposed at the moment. Harry got up and winked at you before making his way towards the door.

“It was nice to meet you, Y/N. See you soon.” He said, earning a frown from both you and Rob. Harry didn’t look back as he walked out the door, Rob following him as he said his goodbyes too. You awkwardly waved, feeling extremely confused, turned on and fucked out at the same time.

You sighed, exhilaration coursing through your veins. You jumped when Reece’s voice sounded from the other side of the room all of a sudden.

“Hey, you alright?” He asked, suspicious with the look on your face. You faked a smile, and nodded.

“Yeah, just… overwhelmed.” You shrugged. Technically you were telling the truth. You were overwhelmed, just with the orgasm you just had rather than the show of tonight.

“Let’s go to the party, I need to introduce you to some people.” Reece said, sending that there was something with your answer that didn’t make it entirely truthful.

“I’ll meet you out there in a minute.” You smiled innocently, and he nodded before walking out the door. You sighed the moment the door shut, and leaned down to grab your panties, only to realize that they weren’t there.

Bastard!

…..

Masterlist

#harry styles #fanfic #writing #smut #blurb #fanfiction #harry #one direction #one shot #series #opera #singer #rockstar

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quivm · 1 year

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ーNanami's present ୧ ‧₊˚

nanami x fem!reader ໒꒱ ˚₊· nsfw content explicit content made by a minor !! this work has been made by an minor !!

wc: 0.7k+

genre + content warnings:

nsfw, overstimulation, mention of breeding, description of female genitalia, praise kink, sir kink, pussy drunk, mentions of cunilingus, mentions of fingering, dacryphilia, pet names, cervix kisses, very light degradation

notes !! this is my first work ive posted on tumblr. so i am new to this so i tried my best! if there any spelling or grammar mistakes please tell me! constructive criticism is accepted ! there is no heavy proof reading. i know this is short i will try and post a longer one next time. this is for my love nanami <3 reposts are appreciated and loved ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭

nanami's wandering eyes scanned up and down your body until he hit your cute sloppy cunt dripping with the past orgasms that wrecked you. you were too skittish today, squirming the pleasure that he gave you though his hands and mouth. apparently 3 orgasm was too much as you craved him.

as much as he loves to overstim the hell out of you little cunt with his wandering mouth, he felt too mean as this was a reward but you can forgive him cant you? you're reactions were just to stunning. fat tears sliding down your cheeks with needy eyes, you looked like an hungry succubus. '' n-nanami please'' you mumbled.

''angel, concentrate on me. just give m' one more and ill give you what you desperately want.'' looking down at your absolutely wrecked face as you were trying to eagerly come undone on his fingers – he couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret. he was suppose to be cherishing you as this was a present but instead he is acting like its a punishment but alas it was only a twinge. feeling a new rush of slick coating his fingers, he marvelled at it. he couldn't help but want to tease your little pussy more. but alas a promise is a promise and he would not go back on his word.

''very good doll, i guess its time for your present, isn't it.'' sliding his length across your wet folds teasing your entrance with the tip, he gave in and rolled his hips into your sweet nectar, this was a reward after all. relief washed over your body, you got what you wanted.

the sight of the bulge in your soft tummy poking out as he slide in was almost enough to make him come undone at once– almost most. seeing you get so flustered when he praised you for taking his cock so deep and so well made him go harder. your gummy walls clung onto him wanting him to stay inside and breed you like a slut.

gritting his teeth and he couldn't help but abuse your puffy clit that was right there on display. holding back from fucking you into a sopping mess was hard but seeing your cunt cream on his dick, after playing with your little clit, was the last shred to his will. although you were barely able to put together sentenced at this point you were still asking for more, that was his girl. ''shh pretty girl m' goin' make you feel amazing i promise.''

every hard buck of nanami hips was sent straight to your accepting cervix. each stoke sent you to heaven, eventually back with the delicious sting as he came out. you're mind slowly was melting and becoming perfect for nanami's merciless pace you could only hope to keep up with.

your gummy walls tighten again and nanami swatting your wet folds so you could pay attention and give him a kiss. ''princess focus on me or this wont be a reward anymore''. your mind a mess could only reply with broken words and whimpers, ''words trouble, words'' he whispered in your ear as his strokes became languid waiting in your response.

waking up from the daze and craving his cock you replied as quickly as you could, ''yes sir im sorry sir''. satisfied he speed up slightly, waiting till those beautiful tear were streaking down your face again in neediness before returning to the pervious pace.

sensing your world crushing orgasm coming by your more and more desperate mewls nanami appreciated you're leaking wet pussy and got ready to destroy it again. he was a patient man to almost everyone and everything, except you. you were his exception including your cunt. with the attributes of being this pussy drunk finally caught up to him.

nanami overloaded your senses. kissing you, rubbing your clit while still at that world crushing pace ended up too much for your dumb little head as you came undone almost immediately. clenching hard as an side affect to the orgasm made nanami chase his even harder.

''p-please too much'' you cried to him.

''is the overstimulation too much for you princess. dont worry, im close''. enjoying every moment of your dilemma of loving it and the extra strokes being to much nanami finally came with his cock kissing your cervix. ''there we go pretty girl''.

#nanami x you #nanami x reader #jjk x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x y/n #nanami kento x y/n #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

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electricalpylon · 2 months

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If we understand the machine as a conduit, and the divine as the power source, the fusion of the two creates the angel, when combining the angel with the the rot (the incorporation of blight) you get the electrical pylon, a conduit for immense power that carries a message linearly through massive structures that both dominate and become the landscape

#angel sighting proof of heaven #official electrical pylon post #angel #divine #rot #machine #electrical pylon #transmission tower #electricity

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polybbiuss · 8 days

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in heaven the tech crew wears white instead of black (to blend in with the clouds)

#text #angel sighting proof of heaven

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sdyd · 1 year

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* THE MODERN PROMETHEUS. sentence starters from mary shelley's novel, frankenstein ; or, the modern prometheus. from the original manuscript, the original published edition, & the 1831 revision. feel free to change pronouns / terms / tense / etc.

do you understand this feeling ?

I desire the company of someone who could sympathize with me.

I shall do nothing rashly.

remember me with affection, should you never hear from me again.

I will not rashly encounter danger. I will be cool, persevering, & prudent.

will you have the kindness to inform me whither you are bound ?

I have lost everything, & cannot begin life anew.

you may easily perceive, [name], that I have suffered great & unparalleled misfortunes.

with what interest & sympathy shall I read it in some future day !

the world was to me a secret, which I desired to discover.

it was the secrets of heaven & earth that I desired to learn

no youth could have passed more happily than mine.

do not waste your time upon this ; it is sad trash.

I believed myself totally unfitted for the company of strangers.

have you really spent your time in studying such nonsense ?

I am happy to have gained a disciple.

remember, I am not recording the vision of a madman.

a resistless, & almost frantic impulse, urged me forward.

you must pardon me, if I regard any interruption in your correspondence as a proof that your other duties are equally neglected.

how can I describe my emotions at this catastrophe ?

how glad I am to see you !

it gives me the greatest delight to see you.

you look as if you had been watching for several nights.

how ill you are !

what is the cause of all this ?

oh, save me ! save me !

I dare say you wish to be indulged in a little gossip.

are you always to be unhappy ?

my dear friend, what has happened ?

even cato wept over the dead body of his brother.

I am afraid, tears instead of smiles will be your welcome.

I do not know what you mean.

no one believes it, surely ?

did the murderer place it there ?

I cannot go alone.

I did confess, but I confessed a lie.

I hope you do not believe I am guilty.

I cannot live in this world of misery.

Do you think that I do not suffer also?

men appear to me as monsters thirsting for each other’s blood.

I would sacrifice my life for your peace.

devil ! do you dare approach me?

begone, vile insect!

I expected this reception.

all men hate the wretched.

abhorred monster !

be calm ! I entreat you to hear me.

have I not suffered enough?

I do not wish to hate you.

I was benevolent & good ; misery made me a fiend.

make me happy, & I shall again be virtuous.

you, my creator, abhor me ; what hope can I gather from your fellow-creatures, who owe me nothing ?

cursed be the day, abhorred devil, in which you first saw light !

relieve me from the sight of your detested form !

I ought to be thy adam, but I am rather the fallen angel.

I stared back, unable to believe that it was indeed I who was reflected in the mirror.

was I then a monster, a blot upon the earth, from which all men fled, & whom all men disowned ?

cursed creator ! why did you form a monster so hideous that even you turned from me in disgust ?

pardon this intrusion, I am a traveler in want of a little rest.

I thank you, & accept your generous offer

at length the thought of you crossed my mind.

to whom could I apply with more fitness than to him who had given me life ?

I do not intend to hurt you.

I am content to reason with you.

if I cannot inspire love, I will cause fear.

I will work at your destruction, nor finish until I desolate your heart, so that you curse the hour of your birth.

this is what it is to live !

where does he now exist ? is this gentle & lovely being lost forever ?

does it now only exist in my memory ?

I could pass my life here.

I had rather be with you.

hasten then, my dear friend, to return, so that I may again feel myself somewhat at home, which I cannot do in your absence.

had I the right, for my own benefit, to inflict this curse upon everlasting generations ?

what is it that you intend ?

do you dare to break your promise ?

I can make you so wretched that the light of day will be hateful to you.

beware ; for I am fearless, & therefore powerful.

I will be with you on your wedding night.

villain ! before you sign my death-warrant, be sure that you are yourself safe.

why do you answer me so roughly ?

why did I not die ?

are you better now ?

I am sorry that I am still alive to feel this misery & horror.

can I do any thing to make you more comfortable ?

on the whole earth there is no comfort which I am capable of receiving.

persecuted & tortured as I am & have been, can death be any evil to me ?

a fatality seems to pursue you.

do you not love another ?

it is your happiness I desire as well as my own.

if I see but one smile on your lips when we meet, I shall need no other happiness.

you are sorrowful, my love.

this night is dreadful, very dreadful.

why did I not then expire ?

I am satisfied, miserable wretch ! you have determined to live, & I am satisfied.

for many months this has been my task.

my reign is not yet over.

learn from my miseries, & do not seek to increase your own.

do you think that I was then dead to agony & remorse ?

you throw a torch into a pile of buildings, & when they are consumed you sit among the ruins, & lament the fall.

but it is even so ; the fallen angel becomes a malignant devil.

you hate me ; but your abhorrence cannot equal that with which I regard myself.

soon, I shall die, & what I now feel will no longer be felt.

#rp prompts #rp memes #sentence starters #rp meme

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dreamed-for-not · 3 months

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Hazbin Hotel theory under the cut, feel free to ignore.

So we know Viv said one of the “main 6” is going to die, and I want to talk about who I think it is and isn’t going to be and why. Also where I think the next season is going.

Charlie - No. She’s our main character and the whole plot revolves around her. In episode 1 they also said that hell born were immune to the extermination because Lucifer rigged it that way. I do think Adam/Lute would ignore that clause because they hate Charlie so much, but again, main character.

Vaggie - Probably not. We just learned that she’s an angel, which theoretically makes her exempt for extermination as well. I would also assume, though we have no outright proof from the show itself, that angels can’t be killed by other angels. The only reason I could see it being her is that she sacrifices herself for Charlie, but it feels unlikely to me.

Alastor - No. He’s the most well known character from the show, even when I had no interest in Hazbin Hotel I still knew him on sight. It would be really stupid to kill him off so early in the show when we’ve barely explored his story and he hasn’t gone through any kind of arc yet. Also his beef with Vox has been pretty built up and I doubt it’s going to be resolved in the next 2 episodes. There’s also the question of who has him on a leash and that he’s been gone for 7 years, just like Lilith.

Angel - Probably not. Another well known and liked character, with 2 massive songs in episode 4. We haven’t seen him escape Val and heal from that yet. It would really cut the effectiveness of the Vs getting taken out in the plot. He was also the one used as the example in heaven, showing that sinners can change.

Husker - Maybe. Personally, I’m going to be big fucking mad if it is Husker, but I could see it being possible. He’s not as integral to the plot as everyone above, and mostly serves as a lackey for Alastor. I’m just a HuskerDuster shipper now and I want these 2 to be happy OKAY????

The sixth position is what’s really up for debate here, because we have 2 possible options. it could either be Nifty or Sir Pentious, I’m going to give my reasoning for both.

Nifty - Possibly. Nifty doesn’t have a ton of plot relevance, even if I think she’s fun. I put here on the same level as the cat or Razzle and Dazzle almost, background fluff to make the world seem more alive. I’ve seen people saying that Nifty is a physical manifestation of the hotel, in which case it might make sense for it to be her and the loss of their home base in the next extermination. It gives the right amount of upping the stakes for season 2.

Sir Pentious - Most Likely. I like Sir P, he’s goofy and ya know, voiced by My Boy but I think he’s the most likely to die. He’s only at the hotel because he was blackmailed into going in the first place and if he left would be killed by the Vs. He’s just hanging around, not doing much but is very prominently featured in the promo art and generally heavily advertised, but has not so far had a Major Song. The only thing we got from him is Starts With Sorry which is my lowest ranked song so far.

But there’s a whole separate reason I think it’s gong to be the Snake Boy. Alex Brightman voices both him and Adam and I think Adam is about to fall/get betrayed by heaven.

Hear me out on this one. Adam isn’t an angel, he’s described as “the first human soul in heaven” and people are categorized into either “sinners” (hell) or “winners” (heaven) when they die. But does he look like any of the other winners we saw? With his dark color palette, sharp teeth and horns? Not one bit, he looks more like the demons he hates so much. The only other characters of heaven origin that look like him are Lute, Vaggie and presumably other exterminators. Which were very possibly created to look a lot like him, if the fact that he named Vaggie is anything to go off of.

In the court scenes we find out that Adam came up with the whole extermination plan and it is not known throughout heaven that it happens at all. But Adam has now let that cat out of the bag and the others didn’t seem to be happy with the whole situation. I think the other angels are going to go to Sara and make her put an end to extermination, and Sara is going to banish Adam (and possibly Lute) to hell for everything they’ve done.

This goes into my season 2 and later predictions, where Adam and Charlie team up to take down heaven and equalize the system for everyone. Adam is a vindictive douche and would do anything to get payback, and though he hates Charlie will be happy to use her for his own ends. And I think there’d be a lot of comedic gold in having Charlie, Vaggie, Adam and Lute stuck together. And that’s not even talking about Adam and Lilith being forced neck into the same room together when she gets back into the picture.

After this I think there’s several places it could go, like a double backstab on Adam’s part by using the uprising he helped to create as proof that he was right all along and the exterminations were necessary. Or possibly them winning and breaking the cycle for all. I think the second option would tie into the themes of determination, forgiveness, redemption and found family that the show appears to be aiming for.

But that’s all up to Viv and Amazon.

Tagging @love-is-all-you-need-13 because they’re the ones who encouraged me to share. Thank you!

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cherrywineandmagic · 2 years

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Intoxicated - Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie Munson gets high with Y/N and feelings are revealed.

Warnings: drug use

Author’s Note: I literally haven’t written a fic in probably well over a year or two but let’s get back into it!

This was the third night in a row that Eddie found himself up past midnight. He was usually knocked out by the time his head hit his pillow but this week was different from the others. Ever since childhood, change had always been enough to trigger insomnia for him. The move to Hawkins as a pre-teen had caused him some sleepless nights, as well as the transition into high school. Now, just days after his high school graduation, he struggled with the idea of being done. He was finally done with high school, so what now?

All he could think about was the Upside Down. He had nearly lost his life there. The scars along his body were proof of that. He had battled otherworldly beings and won, something he was immensely proud of but also never wanted to do again. What was he supposed to do after that?

He thought about Steve Harrington and mused over his new friend. Steve had survived the chaos of the Upside Down multiple times before and simply hopped jobs in his normal life. He battled monsters only to then later return to whatever part-time job he held down at the time.

Eddie couldn’t understand how anyone could experience something so abnormal, if not just fucking amazing, and then go back to slinging ice cream or scanning movies. There had to be more to life than that. Maybe there was. Maybe it was about finding someone to live that life with. Eddie had noticed the way Steve stared longingly at Nancy. He couldn’t judge that. Not since he was in a similar situation himself.

The thought was interrupted by a knock on his window. He looked over and smiled when he caught sight of Y/N’s familiar face. Speak of the devil and she’ll appear.

“I have a front door, you know,” he grinned as she slunk through his window and plopped onto the floor. She smiled brightly, her hair sprawled all around her as she looked up at him.

“This is way more fun,” she replied. Her arms stretched out towards him. “Now, help a girl up.”

He did so with pleasure, pulling her up so quickly that she lost her balance and slammed straight into him. She let out a huff as his arms caught her from falling back.

“You good?” he asked as he steadied her. She nodded, beaming up at him with joy before hopping onto his bed. Eddie stood against his dresser and observed the way she kicked her shoes off and revealed bright yellow socks.

Y/N was the only reason Eddie had made it out of the Upside Down alive. She was his oldest friend and had stuck by him throughout the murder spree that Vecna had started. Before Dustin had found them she was his source of food and updates as she smuggled him all the snacks she could. She had handled the upside down situation with a grace he admired, never once questioning anything the kids told her. Eddie had insisted she stay behind while the others went into the Upside Down to kill Vecna. Eddie would never allow her to put herself in danger and reasoned that someone had to be set up on the other side for extra weapons or to tend to injuries if they happened. At least that had been the plan until Eddie had decided to play hero.

She had thrust right into action the moment Eddie ran straight into harm’s way. He remembered the way Dustin described it. She had muttered profanities under her breath, cursing Eddie's entire lineage as she grabbed a chair and anything she could stand on to lunge herself into the upside down.

He thought he was a goner. All he could see were the demobats circling him, the sound of flesh tearing as they took chunks from his body. And suddenly everything was on fire. The tornado of monsters had been lit up.

He thought she was an angel at first, coming to take him to heaven. It wasn’t until she crouched down next to him, her eyes panicked as she took in his bleeding wounds, that he realized she was there. She spoke but he couldn’t hear what she said. Instead, he had smiled, happy that his last moments would be looking at the woman he loved. He would have died a happy man then.

The next thing he knew he had woken up in a hospital with her by his side.

“Why are you just staring at me?” she asked with a tilt of her head. He had been quiet as his mind had wandered into their shared trauma. “Is there something on my face?”

“You mean besides perfection? Nah,” he replied with a cheesy grin. Even after everything, he’d been too scared to tell her how he felt. He didn’t want to lose her. And admitting feelings would be putting their friendship at risk.

“Oh, well, that’s a given,” she chuckled. “Anyways, I came to see if you’d be down for some fun.”

“Fun?” Eddie raised an eyebrow, intrigued at what she had planned. She pulled out a small bag of suspicious-looking herbs. “Ah, that kind of fun.”

Before he knew it they were both stoned out of their minds. Getting high was something they just always did together. It brought them closer, and to be honest, both of them laying in bed, stoned out of their minds, was the most peace Eddie had ever felt in his life.

“Do you remember when we were fifteen and Tyler Stone gave us our first blunt?” Her voice was melodious as she rolled over to look at him. He grabbed the blunt he had rolled from her hand, taking a second to enjoy the feel of her fingers brushing against his. “The beginning of the end for us, huh?”

He smiled as he took another hit. They’d been inseparable since they had met during the first year of high school. She was beautiful, although maybe a bit too odd to be part of the cool crowd. Either way, she was well-liked and respected, unlike him. Their chemistry didn’t make much sense to anyone who looked at them, but they’d long accepted the fact that they just worked. He was certain that she would leave Hawkins after she graduated high school, but instead, she stuck around and got a job writing for the daily paper. She claimed she was happiest in the small town, and he’d secretly hoped what she really meant was that she was happiest wherever he was. God knew that was the truth for him.

She propped herself up to look at him. The feel of her hair brushing against his arm sent a slight shiver through him, and he was in the perfect state of mind to appreciate it. They were both sprawled on his bed with their bodies so close they were just an inch from touching. His eyes met hers and he silently gulped. She was intoxicating.

“Do you know what you’re doing next now that you’ve finally graduated?”

He groaned at the question. The future was an awful thought. He was uncertain of everything and wasn’t quite ready to think that far ahead. He mindlessly tousled his hair, a habit he had whenever he felt unsure. The only thing he was certain of was her.

“I’m going to get high. With you,” he finally replied. “For the rest of my life.”

Her smile was dazzling as she plucked the blunt from his hand. Her hand stopped as it grazed him and he watched with curious eyes as it fell to his chest before slowly trailing down his abdomen.

“I think you should do more than get high with me,” her voice was soft and seductive as she slid a leg over him and effectively straddled him. Eddie would have been frozen in his place if he had been sober, but the drug in his system allowed him to remain relaxed. His hands instinctively made their way to her thighs, rubbing against her soft skin. They had hugged and even cuddled before, but this touch was much more intimate than anything they’d ever shared.

She looked like an absolute goddess above him. The sweat from the summer heat made her skin shine and she looked peaceful as she took another drag. She was warm and inviting, and he felt his heart begin to beat faster as he realized certain words were fighting to escape him.

“I’m in love with you,” he finally admitted. It was the first time he had said it out loud. It was a wonderful relief to finally have those words out of his mouth - to have that fact in the open for her to hear.

“I know,” she leaned forward with a gentle smile, eyes sparkling with what Eddie could only recognize as adoration. “I love you too.”

His hand wrapped around the back of her neck as he gently brought her down towards him. Their eyes fluttered closed as their lips met in a tender union. She was as soft as he’d expected, and only after a few moments had passed did he realize how hungry he was for her. He deepened the kiss, pushing her lips open as his tongue slid inside and across hers. With a quick movement, she was beneath him, feeling his body as he pushed himself between her warm thighs. She let out a moan that set his skin on fire, and only with great restraint did he allow himself to pull away from her.

“Be mine?” he breathed, eagerly searching her face for signs of acceptance.

“I’ve been yours for years, Ed,” she chuckled. “Now shut up and kiss me again.”

#i never proofread so sorry for mistakes lol #anyways hey guys my writing ass is back #hope you enjoy #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie #munson #eddie munson fic #st4 #stranger things

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