#did not have the brain power to do anything else
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𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u
Part: 4
Click here to read the first part.
Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.
Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader
Warnings: Heavy angst, hurt, smut, cruel Soldier Boy, mention of drugs, reader gets hurt in both ways, violence, Soldier Boy gets hurt, Crimson Countess is a bitch
Word Count: 3584
A/N: English is not my first language.
* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.
It had been a week since Ben fired you from Payback, and you did nothing but spending your whole time in your home since that day.You made up your mind not to go back, even though the authorities tried to talk you out of it. Your idea wasn’t important actually, everything was all about Ben and his stupid ego. You wished you punched his arrogant face that day.
He was your ally, friend and lover, but he had make you his enemy in the end for nothing.
It was hard to swallow what happened between you, but it wasn't as though you lacked pride. It would be best, after all that, to just walk away. You didn't need to ask Ben for anything anymore. After he made his decision, your anger subsided. But you were powerless to avoid the agony in your heart. There was nothing you could do if he was really in love with Crimson.
Being a good person is not enough to love or be loved after all.
You could feel Ben's presence and hear his noises about your house on a Friday night. You wondered what he would say to further hurt your heart or what else he would discuss. Your heart was cursed for continuing to race while he was around. But you knew that all you really needed was a little time to let go of the emotions that were burning in your chest. As they say, what's out of sight is out of mind.
You let out a long sigh as he entered the home silently and opened the door with ease. You hadn't seen his face without that dumb mask in a very long time. You hated how well it fit his haughty persona.
“Ben, what are you doing here?” you said, seeing him inspect the house as though it was his first time.
He said in an arrogant tone, “I came here to talk,” as he moved closer to you and closed the door.
While sitting on the couch behind, you sighed and said, “I don't think there is anything left to talk it out.”
“You know, it's not like I want you to come back. Don't believe otherwise,” he murmured as he sat next to you as if nothing had ever happened between you. “However, those cocksuckers don't let you leave so easily. I have to bring you back to the team because of them.”
It was stupid of you that, for even a split second, you believed he would apologize, make amends, and put things right. Ben was right; you didn't know anything about him at all. It took you a while to find the right words to respond.
With a disappointed expression on your face, you turned to face him and muttered, “I can't believe you. How do you keep yourself so insensitive?”
He got annoyed by your tone and said, “I am what I am,” in an icy voice. “Perhaps your brain is traumatized from creating so many romantic scenarios about me.”
How weak you were when it came to him made your eyes tear, both with rage and anguish. You were unaware of how your heart could possibly desire him in spite of his cruel nature.
“I just feel sorry for you, Ben,” you said with all sincerity. It was true. “You think you have power over everything, but you’re actually controlled by everyone around you. Get out of here now. I’m not going back and I never ever will.”
You made a move to stand, but his rough hands stopped you, saying, “They won’t simply let you go. You have no chance.”
“No one can force me to do anything. I can do whatever I want, unlike you,” you said firmly. “And everyone will leave you alone if you continue to behave like this, like a jackass. Crimson will be the first to betray you; keep that in mind. Noir will leave the team too; you’ll see it.”
You couldn't help but bring up the Crimson issue, even though it wasn't your primary intention to bring it up. You weren't God's greatest soldier when it came to love.
“Is he the cause of your current behavior?” He stared at you hatefully and questioned you, raising his voice. “Did you get fucked by him?”
You shouted at him, “Of course not!” as you avoided his hard touch on your arm. “How on earth are you able to say such a thing to me while you are one who ruined everything? I can't fucking believe you.”
“I want you to get out of here,” you added, cutting him off from further conversation. Ben, I'm not turning back. This is where we end it. The discussion is over.”
He was looking at your lips as though he wasn’t listening to you at all. Before you reacted, his warm lips were on yours. Your hands immediately pulled him closer. You wished you were stronger than this, but it didn’t feel wrong. You missed him way too much to be able to resist his kisses and touch. Maybe he felt the same about you.
Remembering your first time on that same couch with him months ago, you felt like it had been years since he’d touched you. His tongue dominated your mouth when he pushed you to the couch and got on top of you with a quick move. It seemed that your transparent pride was high on cocaine, but your body needed him more than anything.
His mouth met yours for a long, passionate kiss before his hand found its way into your sweatpants and then your underwear. As his hand touched your wetness, you let out a gasp of excitement. He was staring at you in an unidentified way, and you blinked. He took a moment to measure your response and see whether you desired it as well, but as soon as he realized everything was okay, he continued kissing you and put his meaty finger inside. You nailed his
back, feeling his thick finger inside yours. You knew that once he got his hands on you, you would quickly reach climax. You locked your legs around his hips as he continued to fuck you with his fingers.
With a sly smile, Ben asked, “Do you miss me?” and inserted another finger inside of you. You urged him to go harder as your legs began to shake. “Want me to give you a hard and quick fuck? Would you rather it was my cock inside of you?”
As you got closer to your climax, your lips parted, and he added a third finger, making you moan loudly. Without letting you talk, he started kissing you again and silenced your moans. You missed him so much that your eyes got teary from both pleasure and longing. You told him you’d never say that you loved him ever again, but you wanted to say it so much at that moment. You didn’t know how to make him believe you about your feelings.
You moaned in his mouth when your walls clanched around his meaty fingers. It’s been long since you’ve masturbated, so you couldn’t stop yourself from coming that easy. Your face was blushing because of the intensity of the moment.
He continued to finger you until you became very sensitive, at which point he pulled his fingers out of your wet pussy and placed another strong kiss on your lips. Based on the way his hardness felt on your stomach, you assumed he was going to take you there. You could even start over. When he didn't move, you waited anxiously and looked bewildered.
“It seems that I still have power over you, though, baby,�� he remarked, smirking as he licked his fingers covered with your slick as your face flushed with both anger and shame.
Outrage rising in your heart, you pushed him back by his chest from on top of you. He'd done a lot to you already, but now he was doing this too. It was the final time he let you down. Even though what you said was a complete lie, you felt as though you meant every word as you said, “I hate you.”
“Yeah, that's more realistic of you,” he said in a harsh voice, adjusting his supe as he stood up. “You'll return to the team in a week; otherwise, I don't know what they'll do to you. I'll give you a little more time.”
You gave him an angry glare and said, “Get the fuck out of my house,” but he had already left.
You started crying like a crazy person while sitting on the floor, so you grabbed the closest chair and threw it against the door. You wished he had died that night with Crimson because you loathed him so much. Up until that night, you had hopes for him and yourself, but it was now clear that Ben had never loved you back and never would. All he liked was how you responded to him and your loyalty to him. Never in your life have you felt so humiliated.
Even though you were undoubtedly the strongest supe woman on the planet, you were vulnerable and in need of Ben's tiny attention. You cried more, realizing that you had become a pathetic creature. You never ought to have signed up for Payback.
When Ben heard you crying, he considered talking to you again, perhaps to soothe you. In reality, he only intended to persuade you to return to Payback; he wasn't aiming to upset you or finger you when he visited your home. However, he did cause you distress and sorrow. He listened to you cry a little longer, but at that point lacked the courage to confront you. After all, you were simply too furious to have another discussion. He was aware that you would always be alright, though.
You arranged to meet with an older director from Compound V Company in his house two days later in an attempt to stop drawing attention to yourself. Although you made an effort to stay out, they made every effort to get you to rejoin the team. You decided not to say anything about Ben when asked if it has anything to do with his attitude or anything else so as not further aggravate a situation that is already complicated.
While sipping his tea, the elderly guy remarked, "The company can raise your wage as much as you want." Behind him was a stupid painting of Payback.
“I’m already rich,” you answered with a smile.
You are, of course. With a fake smile, he said, “Thanks to us,” getting up and positioning himself in front of the window with his hands in his pockets. “You know, we discussed what happened on the battlefield with Soldier Boy. We made it extremely clear that the way he handled you in front of everyone who was there was completely inappropriate. His actions are not acceptable to the company. He'll be happy to have you back on the squad and wants to make amends with you. Presumably, he has already spoken with you.”
“He did, but I’m not going to change my mind,” you said, trying to sound nice and clear. “It’s not about him. It’s just that I’m very tired of everything: the media, movies, ads, etc. I’m not sure if that’s the life I imagined for myself.”
Even though you weren’t sure if you were telling the truth or not, the truth is, you joined Payback for Ben. If there were no him with you, it didn’t mean anything to you.
“Well, I offered everything I could, and it doesn’t seem like I can convince you then.” He gave up and raised his eyebrows with a fed-up look. “We've known each other for a long time, but I guess it’s time to say goodbye, huh?”
You said, “I'm sorry,” having absolutely no idea how to proceed.
You were relieved that leaving the company wouldn't be as difficult as Ben mentioned. He was vile in his attempt to frighten you or anything. Additionally, you didn't have to worry about money because you had earned enough to live comfortably for a long time. You were at last free.
You ran into Ben on the road after you left the house. He will most likely be given information about your situation. He moved to put his hand on your arm to stop you, but you managed to ignore him and continue walking by.
You knew that what he had done to you in the last few months wouldn’t be forgotten, as he gave your heart a big and deep scar, but at least you wouldn’t let him cut you even deeper.
You sold your house and moved to a place only Earving knew in order to ensure that Ben would never find you again. After all, he was the only trustworthy person you knew, and you had faith that he would keep his word. Perhaps all you really wanted was to be found, but that wasn't very significant anymore.
You tried to enjoy your fortune while you were finally free by going to the movies and spending time by yourself. To those who recognized you, you still gave them your signature, but you took great care to avoid drawing attention to yourself. Even yet, you felt sick seeing Ben and Crimson's posters all over the
city. Seeing Ben enjoy himself with Crimson while you were suffering because of him was just so unfair. He didn’t even try to find you when you left so many traces.
One day, when you were about to go into your house, you saw another car that was parked nearby your garage. Seeing the shiny red color of the car, your eyes narrowed. Realizing that someone was in your house, you went by the threshold and took a deep breath, sensing Crimson’s presence.
“Have your parents not taught you to never enter a house without permission?” You asked in an irritated tone.
She paused, pulling off a flower from your vase, and laughed as she took in the scent.
“It appears that you have become a gardener, Y/N. How far you have fallen,” she said in such a haughty voice that you felt like laughing at her ignorance.
“I don’t know how often your little brain gets railed by idiocy, but if you ever touch my flowers again, you will go back to where you came from without your big red head,” you said with a serious face. “Now tell me, why are you here?”
Her face fell with your your statement and she frowned her eyebrows.
“Something terrible happened.” She stated, “I thought you would want to hear it,” wearing a worried expression.
“What happened?” You muttered. The thing that brought her to your house worried you.
Earving was the first thing that came to mind. He informed you that Ben was bullying him severely and persistently and that it had gotten worse just a few days before. That's why you were afraid Ben had finally hurt him. As you waited to hear the worst, your heart paced with fear.
“It’s about Soldier Boy,” she said. She was looking at your expression very carefully.
“What about him?”
You wanted to sound cold and distant, but in fact, you were worried. You knew that he was the strongest, but he wasn’t the smartest considering his trust for that woman.
“As you may know, he hasn't been seen recently on screens or anywhere else. Because he is a little out of control, he is no longer wanted as the leader of Payback.” She stated, trying to read your face, “They are planning to find a way to kill him and tell people that he sacrificed himself for this country, etc.”
It was impossible to get underneath Ben's skin. There was no way they would have managed hurt him, not even with thousands of people or supes.
“What are you saying?” You whispered, unsure of what she was even talking about.
“They simply tricked him by sending him on some sort of mission. I'm not sure what kind of gas it is, but they are exposing him to a kind of gas which is making him to stay unconscious day and night, and he's going to be shipped to Russia tomorrow in the morning. He will never wake up, so I need someone to help him.”
The way she described him made your heart race. In an attempt to picture him as helpless, you took a deep breath to calm yourself. But knowing Crimson wasn't a reliable person, “Where were you when he needed you? Also, why don't you help him?” you asked aggressively with an obvious tone of suspicion.
“He is well guarded. Even some other supes are waiting outside of his box,” she licked her lips and murmured. She was so calm that it disgusted you. “And I'm not as strong as you are, as you know.”
She obviously lacked the guts to get her hands a little filthy. She didn't care about him enough, as you know, to take a small risk.
“Where is that location? Just give me the address,” you said in an aggressive yet unhesitating voice.
You were annoyed when she handed you a small piece of paper and sighed in relief as she said, “It's not far from here.” But at that point, you didn't give a damn about her. After all, if she hadn't told you, you'd never know what had happened to Ben.
You wouldn't allow them to treat Ben that way in spite of everything he has done to you. How could you go on living while he was unconscious and under the care of strangers in another nation? Though you were certain that they would never be able to murder him, the thought of him being tortured was much more unsettling. Without saying anything more to Countess, you left your house and drove directly to the address stated in the paper. If they discovered that you were the one who saved Soldier Boy, it would make no difference. You would think about such things later.
You cautiously examined the modest building, guarded by just two guys in uniform, after you had parked the car. You thought that would be easy. You were not interested in paying attention, even though they were very easy for you to handle. You decided to make some noise, so you picked up a big rock and tossed it out the window. Moving quickly to the back of the building, they exchanged glances and tightly grasped the weapons they were carrying.
When it comes to idiocy, men never let you down.
You hurried inside the building and effortlessly unlocked the large door. The dimly lit interior of the strangely dark building made you anxiously listen to every breath and voice around you. Feeling perplexed and irritated, you began looking in every room for Ben.
“Hey, you!” someone shouted at you. “What the hell are you doing here? Any entrance to this area is restricted by the government; you cannot simply go in.”
Well, you can.
Without saying a thing, you hit his head hard enough to knock him out, but not hard enough to kill him. You murmered an apology.
But then you heard the alarm go off, and you hurried to look for Ben. Inside the building, there was loud chaos, screaming, and gunfire from the people who showed as though they could harm you.
Ben was nowhere to be found when you finally made it into the last room at the end of the hallway. Nothing at all could be found showing his presence. Though you were both supes and could easily smell and hear voices, you were certain Ben wasn't around.
When the door was slammed behind you, you tried to get out, but the strong gas in the room caused you to cough, and you collapsed to the ground, feeling weary and numb. You realized then that you would be the one sent to Russia. Before you passed out, Ben was all that was on your mind. Your eyes filled with tears when you noticed the gas was making you cough in pain. Maybe Ben and Crimson worked together to trick you. But why would he make you suffer like that?
Next Chapter
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A/N: Here we go… We haven’t finished yet. Comments and reblogs are very appreciated! You can check my Masterlist for other Soldier Boy / Reader fics. There is still so much to come. <3
Taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl @xmariakx @spnfamily-j2 @suspicious-stain-in-spain @atomicsoulcollecto @yvonneeeee @starryperson @mfnqueen1 @chaand-sitara @boywivlove @stilinskisthings
Let me know if you want to be tagged for this series! -`♡´-
#the boys#jensen ackles soldier boy#the boys tv#soldier boy x reader#jensen ackles#the boys season 3#soldier boy the boys#soldier boy#soldier boy fanfiction#soldier boy x female reader#soldier boy x y/n#soldier boy x you#the boys series#the boys x reader#the boys x y/n#the boys x you#the boys soldier boy#soldier boy fic#soldier boy smut#the boys amazon#the boys season 4
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would the three failed siblings have different personalities if they were raised by sonic and shadow?, and if so what would their personalities be?
Oh, for sure! Being raised in a positive environment where they aren't pitted against one another would really bring out their best traits. 😁
Void
Eldest brother
Still has low empathy, but is better at relating to others and putting himself in their shoes.
Very logical. Thinks things through far more than his siblings. That being said, he is extremely impulsive when emotional.
The most morally gray out of his siblings, but is still considered a "hero". Shadow worries he is only playing the hero role because it gives him an excuse to fight.
... He really does like fighting.
Definitely the one to suggest murder before anyone else.
Bumps heads with Shadow. Shadow sees a lot of the things he doesn't like about himself in Void, and projects a lot of his personal baggage onto him.
Closer to Sonic, finds his presence to be calming and enjoyable. Sonic knows how to handle Shadow, and therefore better understands how to handle Void.
Patient, protective, but blunt. Will almost ALWAYS tell someone the cold, hard truth, even if it hurts them. There have been many times he's made one of his siblings cry for being "too mean." He doesn't see it that way.
The quietest and least disruptive of his siblings. Spends a lot of time reading.
Andromeda
Eldest sister
Can come across as bratty or vain, but loves her family deeply. Often can't decide if they are the most annoying people in the world, or her favorite.
Still very much a moody teenager, but the normal, non-traumatized amount.
Would be that pretty, popular older sister that Stellar wishes she was more like.
Prefers to stay out of fights, despite her power. Values her appearance greatly and would rather her perfectly preened quills didn't get disturbed. That being said, she has an explosive temper, and won't shy away from punching it out with someone who pisses her off.
Gets along great with Shadow for the most part, but when they disagree, their fights are infamously explosive. Sonic can do little to defuse an argument between the two of them once it has started, so he usually tells the other kids to make some popcorn.
That being said, she, Shadow, and Stellar would often go shopping or to the spa together!
Sonic, on the other hand, would be her favorite dad to chill and watch movies with!
Very protective of her siblings. That type of girl to tease and make fun of her family, but immediately turn on anyone else who does. Those are HER idiots, dammit!
Polarity
Youngest brother (but still older than Stellar!!)
Playful, witty, and clever. No one thinks of faster comebacks than he does!
A LOT like Sonic, but with a softer edge. Has less of his bold-faced confidence.
Sporty and active, but also a huge nerd. LOVES comic books!
Fastest runner out of his siblings, period.
Due to having a lot of the same interests, Sonic and Polarity would spend a lot of time together! The two of them would have a lot of inside jokes and running bits. Polarity would want to be just like him!
The most eager to be a great hero out of his siblings.
Despite his closeness with Sonic, he is not missing any love from Shadow. It would seem that all the things Shadow likes about Sonic, he likes about Polarity. Shadow clearly has a favorite between his two sons.
Polarity and Stellar are the only two people who know how to make Shadow laugh consistently.
Polarity and Stellar are also the most alike among the siblings! The two of them are super close. Unfortunately for Polarity, being around Stellar seems to make him dumber. There is only one brain cell between the two of them when they are left to their own devices.
His antagonistic relationship with Void isn't present here! The two of them get along fine, even if Polarity isn't particularly close to him. If anything, he wishes the two of them did more stuff together.
#answered asks#lore dump#fankid au#sibling au#stellar the hedgehog#void the hedgehog#andromeda the hedgehog#polarity the hedgehog#sonadow fanchild#sonadow fankid#sonadow#shadonic#sonic the hedgehog#shadow the hedgehog#sth
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THE MYTH OF THE SUBCONSCIOUS
ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅
After being in the manifestation and shifting community for many years now (mainly on YouTube and tumblr), I realised that there isn't much questioning. There are some concepts that are unanimously accepted as fact (regardless of whether it's true or not). Now that led me to a realisation, the myth of the subconscious mind.
The subconscious mind is described as the part of your mind that notices and remembers information when you are not actively trying to do so and influences your behaviour even though you do not realize it. It is one of the fundamentals, the backbone of the beliefs in these communities. Many of our decisions and methods are built off of the fundamental belief of the existence of the subconscious. There are people who believe that it is the subconscious that makes you manifest/shift, more power to you if this applies to you. I am here to provide an alternative view and challenge this notion.
ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅
Before I go any further, let me explain how I came to this conclusion. So I have been feeling major dissonance - I know that my assumptions create my reality, but I still assume that it can't possibly be that easy (it is). It leads me to constantly be fighting with myself in my own mind, whereas I AM just accepts the things I say unconditionally. It leads to me manifesting things so quickly and successfully but only 'small' things, which reaffirms my beliefs, creating a negative feedback loop. My thoughts are a symptom of an issue that I desire to address.
So I am not interested in having this 💀 so I was thinking how I can address this dissonance. That's when it hit me. My subconscious isn't real. When I tell yall that I was stood shook like 🧍♀️. It was my own epiphany moment. Like HELLO !?!? I did that 💅💅
Also, quick disclaimer: these are just my thoughts and exploration of fundamental ideas in this community. You are still entitled to your own opinion. Just have an open mind while reading the rest of the post ♡♡♡
ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅
“I AM is a feeling of permanent awareness. The very center of consciousness is the feeling of I AM. I may forget who I am, where I am, what I am, but I cannot forget that I am. The awareness of remains, regardless of the degree of forgetfulness of who, where, and what I am.
-NG
Neville Goddard teaches that we are nothing but I AM. It is our truest form of self, of being. We are not our bodies, minds, thoughts, feelings, brains, etc. So why are we giving up our power and ourselves to the subconscious mind ? So much of what we do is built off of the assumption that it is the subconscious mind that allows it to come into fruition. That's not the case !! It is only the case if you assume it to be. Neville Goddard teaches us about our assumptions; "An assumption, though false, if persisted in, will harden into fact." Despite knowing this, many still choose to put the power into the hands of their subconscious.
By sacrificing our power to the subconscious mind, we are imitating control. We are the operant power, living a human experience - imitating struggle. By choosing to be aware of your I AMness, you are choosing to let go of the struggle and accept your power. So why would you give up a portion of that power to an imaginal being ? One you created yourself. You are essentially imitating an earthly struggle to imitating a godly struggle - at the end of the day, it's all imitation.
"Let us put and end to these fears and the worship of creation. There is only ONE Lord and that is your own I AMness. When I say and feel "I AM" that is the Lord. I don't feel after anything else. If I need security, I do not try to gather all the money in the world or put my house on some mountain away from everyone. I do not try to do good deeds hoping a god will give my security. No. I go to the ONE Lord, the ONE God and I feel after safety using the name of I AM. I feel after it instead of trying to find it in the world. I feel after I AM secure."
-EA
Edward Art is clearly saying what we all should apply. Do not go to the subconscious. It is just an unnecessary middleman between I AM and the ego. It serves no other purpose aside from what you assign to it. By relying on the subconscious to do what you can do without it, you are worshipping your own creation. Putting it on a pedestal, which it doesn't belong on.
ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅
Barbados is imaginary.
In his work (Series 2, part 3), Edward Art reveals to us that Barbados is imaginary. Neville was at the imaginary Barbados with his imaginary self. He makes an important distinction by this, however. Imaginary isn't unreal, rather something that is unseen; "I am not saying 'imaginary' to suggest 'not real.' I am not trying to play pretend with you. By imaginary, I just mean unseen, substance, a realm. I do not mean unreal. So I interact within this realm just as I would in this outer realm." By treating all as imaginary, we are granting ourselves whatever we desire immediately. There is no time lag, no delay, no reflection, nothing of the sort. It is imagined then assumed. By feeling the need to go through a subconscious mind, you are creating another layer that is unnecessary. You are creating a delay. Even if you assume that the subconscious will be able to manifest it instantly, your imagination already had it long before. After all, how did the desire appear in the first place ? Through your imagination.
In relation to the subconscious mind, it only exists through our imagination (as does all else), yet it is treated as the source of reality, not another method of executing that reality. I AM is the source of all things (reminds me of qur'anic teachings, but I'll save that for another post). Nothing is greater than us. We must see past the fog and fully accept our I AMness.
The subconscious mind is imaginary.
#shifting community#reality shifting#shifting antis dni#shiftblr#shifting#shifters#reality shift#shifting blog#shift#subconscious#subconciousmind#neville goddard#edward art
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loved reading ur tom king tea so how abt ☕️ tom taylor
I think this post I reblogged a little while back said it really well, especially "He writes comics to go viral on Twitter."
My main problem with Taylor is that his writing is fluff with absolutely zero substance, and I feel like this has two major consequences. First, there's this weird disconnect between stakes, competence, and victory. All of his heroes are wildly incompetent, so he sets up these huge stakes and then has them resolved by other people, or dumb luck, or just...pretending the stakes don't exist? So now not only are the heroes incompetent, the story is unsatisfying because the victory doesn't feel earned - because his goal is a cutesy viral moment that gets passed around the internet out of context, not satisfying storytelling.
For a small example of this, there's that scene where Clark needs Bruce and Dick to help him find Jon, who is learning how to fly. I repeat: Clark, who has super speed, flight, X-ray and telescopic vision, AND CAN HEAR HIS LOVED ONES' HEARTBEATS, needs two regular fucking guys to somehow detective out the location of his own child. Clark is nerfed just to get a cute moment of Dick giving Jon a lollipop - and Taylor absolutely got what he wanted out of that, because those pages did go viral, no matter how little sense they made.
For a bigger example, there's the climax of the Blockbuster storyline in Nightwing, where Blockbuster discovers Dick's identity and Dick realizes that his entire life is about to be destroyed...and then someone else kills Blockbuster and solves Dick's problem for him, and he literally never thinks about it again. This is our hero triumphant? This is NOTHING! I literally stared at that comic with my mouth open. For real? For real for real???
You see this over and over again. In the most recent issue of Titans, it's revealed that Dick basically hypnotized himself into having a secret part of his brain he can only access via a code word because somehow that prevents Raven (a telepath) from reading his mind (why? UNCLEAR). He is explicitly inspired by what Bruce did with his Zur-en-Arrh personality. You know, the one who has been the main villain in Batman for over a year? Who has taken over Gotham and driven Bruce into hiding? Who will be a key factor in the upcoming Absolute Power event? That guy?
But it's okay that Dick did the exact same wildly unsafe thing, because Dick says in the comic "this will be fine" so it'll be fine. Why? He said so! It'll be fine!
Obviously most of the time superheroes do defeat the bad guy and it is fine (and even when it isn't, they come back to life), but in order for a story to have impact, we have to believe in the stakes. The hero needs to make an effort. There need to be consequences. Taylor's writing is devoid of all of that. When he gets to issue #6 of a given storyline, everything is just magically resolved. It makes his characters feel shallow and incompetent, and his stories feel meaningless.
More importantly, his politics are as shallow as his plotting. He injects liberal themes into his writing, but things are just magically resolved, and no one ever has to make a hard choice. Jon Kent occasionally scolds a mean person and then flies off to hold hands with his cardboard cutout of a boyfriend, and Taylor pats himself on the back for being History's Greatest Ally.
Meanwhile, he does absolutely nothing to support real people with marginalized identities. When Chuck Dixon when on a twitter spree sharing a homophobic photoshopped panel of Dick and Jon, Taylor was like "Oh that's actually photoshopped, but I love your work!" and then spent several tweets kissing Dixon's ass. Sucking up to a homophobe was more important to him than actually standing up for queer people, or even just...not saying anything. (Not saying anything is free!)
Now don't get me wrong, Taylor's mentions are deranged and people need to leave him alone about Babs not being in a wheelchair because it's obviously not up to him. But the way he acts like he is the world's greatest martyr to The Cause because of his milquetoast comics when over and over again he fails to support real, living people drives me nuts. (There are other examples, but I don't have the strength to unpack the Ed Piskor stuff right now.)
In conclusion: his writing is shallow, his politics are shallow, and I'm tired.
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Hey! Figured I'd send in an ask since you had indicated you wanted some. With the company now defunct, it seems like a good time to reflect on RWBY and examine it more closely. As such, I wanted to ask what are your top three most favourite and least favourite parts of the show? It can be a character, a specific scene, a particular detail, anything you want. More importantly, why do you like/dislike those parts respectively?
things I liked
The Yang and Weiss reunion in VOL.5
"Your MOM kidnapped me! YOU KIDNAPPED HER" is still one of the (intentionally) funnest things in the show. The hug is just really cute and beautiful, I love how the home leitmotif is playing and it's main reason both me and many other people like freezerburn. (even if there is a platonic explanation if you're not a coward)
Ruby's character post VOL. 8
You can tell she's a good character because even when the writing is really bad she's still at least KINDA compelling, I genuinely enjoy her arc in VOL.9 despite how bad it makes her team look, before they stumble at the end at least (I don't blame that on it being rushed, ascension is just that fundamentally bad of a plot point)
even in shit like the JL movies she's still one of the characters I like having on my screen the most, I'm really glad she has officially left her era of barely doing anything important in her own show. she's one of my blorbos now because I relate to the whole not liking yourself thing
The vibes and world
the world of RWBY is such a unique setting, not quite fantasy, not quite sci fi, even a tiny bit superhero. No one else in fiction who looks and fights exactly like Ruby Rose or Weiss Schee or Pyrrha Nikos. The world felt so unique especially in the OG trailers
bonus round: Penny
OH MY GOD I LOVER HER SO MUCH AUTISTIC QUEEN HXHXAJHSA (that's it that's the whole entry)
Things I really didn't like
Jaune Arc
You know all that stuff I said about how unique the setting and character's are, yeah like ignore all of that. here's a generic white guy swordsman with a regular sword and shield who's is incompetent and has no powers in first 3 volumes and only exists to make unfunny jokes and get explained at by a character who's 5x more interesting than him, he's only here because they couldn't find a way to naturally drop exposition even though they literally in a school. He might as well have dropped in here from the real world after getting hit by a truck.
Then his (almost) GF dies and he's the only one allowed to morn her except Ruby like once, and then Jaune is given so much important screen time that he feels more like the main character then Ruby ever did and becomes a bully because angst. he finally becomes a character I can enjoy in VOL.7 and most of 8, before he kills Penny and my faith in his character along with it, he immediately gets like 5 other things to get traumatized by in the ever after and gets explained OFF SCREEN so you don't even get conflict from it. god that wasn't even everything, I'll stop now.
The white fang (or Fannus in general)
You can point out literally anything to do with this subplot and it would be offensive in some way. From animal people being race allegory by itself being sketchy at best to even Blake's mom's name being a slur in some contexts. People still try do defend it even though the WRITERS THEMSELVES admitting it was bad.
I think we should just stop trying to make truly divergent species direct race allegories, it's never worked
that one "Maybe you lost some brain cells along with that arm" scene
started with a good Yang scene, ending on a bad one. Oobleck is here (YIPPY) and Port too (god damn it) and they are joking about how funny that one time they put Qrow in a dress was because man in dress funny (ugh). So Yang gets some mediocre advice and gets insulted by the "maybe you lost some brain cells along with that arm" line and finds it funny. yes disabled people are allowed to make jokes about their own disability but there's a big difference between that and able bodied writers having an able bodied character make a joke at a disabled character's expense and saying the disabled person is fine with it. maybe I should be happy that they cut down on Yang's recovery arc if we were gonna get more of this, no matter how stupid that was.
Bonus: Coco
They really based one of their few gay characters on an IRL nazi and then made her predatory and sadistic in the not fun way...
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The poll you sent truly messed me up! I only get to choose one?! I want all of them! But I understand you can’t write all of them at once even though we all want you to…
Just wondering though, how much of Succiduous is already written? Would you mind sharing a snippet?🙃
I know, right??? I wish I had more time to write all these ideas in my head. Or, even better, have there be a job for writing fanfic! 🤣🤣🤣
Succiduous has about 10k words written already. I don’t know how much longer it’ll be.
But here’s a snippet!
A groan escaped Harry’s lips as he rolled his neck. He needed to make sure he still had his wand on him. He had to find Sirius. Except, Harry couldn’t move his arm. Either one of them. His eyes snapped open to see Albus Dumbledore sitting calmly across from him. Next to him sat a man Harry had never met before but he looked vaguely familiar at the same time. Glasses were perched on his long nose. His salt and pepper hair sat messily on his head, like he had carded his hand through it one too many times and caused it to stand up in the back.
“Hello,” Dumbledore greeted, though there was no smile on his face or twinkle in his eye.
Harry swallowed, his eyes glancing over at the unidentified man. “Professor, I had a… dream,” he started as he looked back over at Dumbledore, stretching his neck to try to relieve some of the tension. “He has Padfoot. In the place where it’s hidden.”
The unidentified man shifted, his body leaning forward as he rested his forearms on his knees. His jaw clenched and his dark hazel eyes looked murderous.
“Who has Sirius?” the man gritted through his teeth.
Harry squinted at the man, shifting against the bonds that held him to the chair. He couldn’t work out why he was even tied up. Why would Dumbledore do this to him? Unless the man next to him forced him to? But who could be more powerful than Albus Dumbledore?
“I’m not talking to you,” Harry snapped, his fists clenching. “How do you even know who I’m talking about anyway?”
The man turned to Dumbledore. “Did you check for the Mark?”
“The Mark?” Harry repeated, his eyebrows raising.
Certainly they couldn’t be talking about the Mark.
“There was nothing, Fleamont,” Dumbledore replied. “No glamours or anything else of the sort. I honestly thought it was James when Alast-“
“James?” Harry gasped, blinking rapidly as he tried to wrap his brain around what was going on. “James? You mean James Potter?”
The man named Fleamont snapped his attention to Harry, his face setting harder than stone. Harry only felt his own anger rise at the situation.
“That’d be rich if I could pull off being a dead person,” Harry snapped.
Fleamont was out of his chair in a split second, knocking it down with a loud thump. The man’s face pressed close to Harry’s, their noses nearly touching. Fleamont’s hands grabbed at Harry’s shirt, keeping him from moving.
“What did you do to my son?” Fleamont seethed.
“Fleamont,” Dumbledore called, his voice still calm.
“Your son?” Harry repeated. “What are you talking about?”
None of what was happening made any sense. Nor did they have time…
Harry froze.
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not sure what time the new round will be out
#its my brother's birthday today and i promised i'd make him a giant cookie#i was going to do it earlier in the day but my dogs escaped the garden this morning#and one wouldn't come back when I called#so i spent 15 minutes running around a field trying to catch him#sobbing because I hadn't seen them escape and had been panicing until I found them#then he made it to the road#and thank goodness he was fine in the end#anyway had to spend a while trying to calm down after that#did not have the brain power to do anything else#got the ingredients and only now is the kitchen clean and I can start#and then going out for a birthday meal later#so don't know if ill have time between finishing baking and that to do the round#and not sure what time i'll be back#the latest it will be posted is tomorrow morning#but hopfully sooner
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#elisabeth das musical#and things that happened to me irl xD#i finally did thissss#it's so funny to do actually and it almost works like sort of therapy so why not#like wow i can finally talk about this and even draw related things without wanting to throw up immediately#for more context (yep again) i had severe depression years ago and at some point my brain was so fucked up by illness that#i started seeing [one of those guys i'm always talking about] literally as an embodiment of everything bad in my life#well HE WAS#but like i so strongly identified him with my depression that sometimes even doubted if he was a real person at all lmao#(YOU SEE WHY I'M DRAWING THIS)#he somehow managed to follow me everywhere which made things even more creepy.#and i kept coming back to him myself because i had no one else etc#so funny actually that he was literally JUST SOME GUY like not even interesting or anything#all this shit was just awful and gross that's all.#but when i realized i can make it look COOL by drawing stuff i felt so powerful ahsdijwhnu8#like YES i texted him recently and he's just. boring as fuck.#so dumb to feel possessed by some evil entity for years and the said evil entity is just a random dude#SORRY my traumadumping is cringe af but thats the price you have to pay to see my drawings xDddd
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not even joking i would kill for some kind of beyond evil sequel focusing on jihwa. it doesn't even have to be a full time drama. a mini-series, a movie, anything is fine i just need it
#she has so much potential as a character but the show just didn't. have. time for her#and i'm always sad about it#jwds don't need to be there like they can be referenced or make a guest appearance idc#jihwa works in a violent crimes unit#you're telling me there can't be a compelling story about a woman with decades of unpacked trauma#encountering worst of humanity everyday but desperately trying to believe in the goodness of it and through it in the goodness of self#you're telling me we can't have an arc of her finally forgiving herself for leaving for doubting for wanting more for herself#there's so much that can be explored#literally do none of you ever think about you're better than me you're all better than me i hope jeongje did it i'm a monster right#do you never think about i'm sorry but what i wanted was to run away not to be consumed by your desires#do you never head in hands over i never got in your way once i let you do whatever you wanted and now you're telling me not to cross over#she's always delivering lines of all time and for what#actually i take it back#dongsik can be there#series focusing on jh&ds's relationship would slap#also kim shinrok and shin hakyun as leads#their sheer acting power alone would blast brain outta my skull please and thank you#have not had interest in watching anything recently beyond evil let me fucking go let me care about something else PLEASE#promise of upcoming shim nayeon thriller drama with two female leads is the only thing keeping me afloat tbh#whenever that happens
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i wear a lot of skirts and pink and whatnot as my style has developed with me & my personality but when one of those age regression girlies latch onto me....i do not like that
#like oh....you think im one of them...bestie no im freshly 23 and im happy i made it this far i dont wanna go back#sometimes i hate being 5'2 with a small frame you have to be very careful and kinda vet everyone you interact with#idk there's a complex discussion to be had. i am someone who has went through what they fetishize and i know a lot of girls in that#community have too. so i worry a lot if if my behaviors and preferences accidentally align with that community in ways i don't realize#bc trauma will always reveal itself. idfk. when i was 20 i got in a relationship with a man who was 30 because i misheard him and thought#he was 24. i thought he was okay until we were at this giftshop and he wanted to get me something but as giftshops are super expensive#i mentioned i could fit in childrens clothes and it saves me a lot of money ($60 shoes are $30 for kids) and tbh fit my frame better#so he was “prove it” so i did and mf said “THATS HOT” ??????????? BITCH#my style wasn't even feminine in the slightest at the time 😑 it feels like a curse to have this kind of trauma then never outgrow this body#believe me ik how trauma changes your brain but how#as a woman#can you ever be apart of that community? why do you allow this to continue and not persecute these men for existing?#you're inherently enabling it and saying its okay this happened to you and its okay that other adults can hurt other kids#when my rapist got put in prison i screamed i yelled i sang i danced my friends set off FIREWORKS for me#when he got out i cried more than i ever have. i moved STATES (not the sole rzn but nonetheless) not that i was in the one he was in prison#in anyways but i was so fucking petrified he'd find me again. its embarrassing but i started sleeping with a chastity belt again.#i made more phone calls i ever have in my life to people who have and will get their hands dirty#i understand the self hatred those girls have. i understand the girls who sleep with everyone to take some of their power back.#i even understand the girls who want to get raped if they got assaulted but it never felt like enough for the pain they're experiencing#but please stay the fuck away from me. as someone who has tried to heal and wants every man like that erased from earth.#do not give them an ounce of attention. ostracize them like they're meant to be. leave it to god for their karma they will be dealt with#reckon with your pain and make sure it never happens to anyone else. only the harmed can make the greatest teachers#tbh bro i am disgusted with myself at all that those are the kinda vibes i put out.#what are you supposed to do as a woman when feminity is equalized with infantilism? i think its tone deaf and misguided whem girls are like#i dress this way to contradict societies views!!! babes its a whole cultural issue that requires reviewing and reforming#you are not doing anything revolutionary by wearing frilly skirts and saying im not like them bc they see you and ur automatically boxed in#i dress how i want and say what i want but i know as a individual im not the beacon of a groundbreaking movement#singularily flipping society on its head. dress how you want but be aware of the connotations. you're living in this society here and now#there's consequences that may not be in your favor and youll be assumed to have values that dont align with you and it may break your heart
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Finally decided to jump in AO3′s Mariocest collection, which is really good btw I recommend Priorities Rewritten by Karatecake, easily my favorite one I read all night
Anyway I accidentally ended off on an Angst/Unrequited Love/Dark fic because I apparently cannot read warning tags so now I’m sad and it’s 5am so I have to go to bed sad
#I don't know how to use AO3 I love it it's so cool people there are incredibly powerful#I am just stupid#I have no reason to actually tag this Mariocest I don't wanna be the guy flooding the tag with personal posts#but it might end up there anyway sorry read the fic I linked and don't read anything else I guess dkfgjdfkjgk I'm annoying#Aaaaaaaaaaugh#I'm SUCH a bad Angst/Non-Con guy it just BUMS ME OUT#I have no idea how people do this more power to you and all but man#MAN#I don't even know how I got there it was ALSO the only Smut I read because I don't care about Smut#How did I GET HERE#I didn't read the damn tags is absolutely what happened it was my own fault#I did this#The best Mariocest fics aren't tagged Mariocest btw they're Mario/Luigi + Sibling Incest only#And a few that should be tagged Mario&Luigi but kfgjdkfjgf I don't think the kids are ready to know that difference just yet#I'm making this post to procrastinate going to bed because I'm legit gonna just lay there and be sad over this fic I read#And I don't know how to fix it#Hhhhhhhhhhhh I wanna write a Mariocest fic but how and about what other than the Bros Kiss huh#Brain tumble#Aight off to bed to be sad and mildly triggered by my own choice (accident) to read Fucked Up Shit#I dub-coned myself with a Fanfiction. I consented but did I really#Anyway.Good night to my Baled Mario plushie I kissie him head and know he is fine and nothing is wrong between him and Luigi#They are in romantic love
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...
#i am laying in my bunk. its like prob at least 85 degrees. so im sweating and thinking abt narut0#literally what woukd i do if this show hadn’t found me when it did? i dont even kno#i literally got myself choaked up the other day imagining iruka gushing abt what a good person narut0 is#i lov their relationship so much. and so im laying here thinking abt all the things i cant draw until like sundsy or Monday#at least tomorrow is the last day of sampling. then we r outta here. i cannot wait to get to a hotel room#at least i feel a little less guilty bc i txted my boss at like 6am: yo sorry this is y im being a freak#so at keast now she knows#but she's had no indication of a reaction? like she didnt txt back abt confirmation of having seen it and she hasnt said anything#abt it all day despite plenty of oppertunity so ???#ok i guess? idk hopefully the last site will b easy byt im not getting my hopes up#not looking forward to the 16hr car ride back. im on v little sleep bc i have to wait for everyone else to b asleep#before i can and i cant sleep in the car during the trip so :-/#ugh. the sun sets so late here im tired#unrelated#srry im just so boooored#bc i dont have enough brain power to actually do anything
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Unmistakably Yours - G.S.
Synopsis. In which the strongest bends space and time - literally - after coming back from deatḣ, to do what he’s always wanted to do - you.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, best friends to lovers, Satoru goes a little (very) INSANE, oral (fem receiving), fíngering, manga spoilers, use of jujutsu powers, unprotected, créampie, spitting, overstim, féral Satoru, heinous things, happy ending, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 4.5k
A/N. Yeahhh that poll was cooking up something devious heheh. Gege give me back my man.
Gojo Satoru was going to kill someone.
He was going to kill someone and it didn’t matter who. It didn’t matter how. It didn’t even matter if he had to haul his broken body - scarred and barely-healed - out of this stiff infirmary bed, because the great Gojo Satoru awoke and the world shook.
Because you weren’t here.
“Ah. The oh-so deadest one, I see you’re awake.” Satoru flinches at the sharp, exhausted drawl from his left.
Slowly, he blinks away the haze in his aching eyes, desperately trying to adjust to the cold room. Shoko’s voice was too loud. The lights too bright. His waiting arms too empty - where were you?
With a low hiss, Satoru’s body is moving before his mind, sitting up like a man possessed. Goosebumps prickle his skin as the thin blanket falls off his shoulders. Temples throbbing because the world was spinning and spinning and you-
“Calm down, Satoru.” Shoko sounds almost panicked now - as much as she could, anyway. Uselessly trying to push him back onto the mattress. “I don’t care if you’re the ‘strongest’. Sukuna did a number on you and you have to rest-”
“Where is she?”
---
It was the final nail on your coffin - that slight, steady rumble beneath your feet. So fleeting that you’d written it off as your weary brain, too goddamn tired from today. Heaving out a sigh, you rub your eyes in frustration, so fucking alone in this too-large penthouse.
Fingers jittery, you rifle through your best friend’s closet for his box of blindfolds, because you knew he’d be complaining about the sensory overload at the infirmary if- when he woke up. Though, you think that was more an excuse for Shoko to send your wrecked self away than anything.
Grabbing a few more than necessary, your heart lurches as you eye that dusty framed photo by his bedside. A much younger Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, and you - probably the last time any of you smiled so carelessly.
One dead and the other just on the cusp of it.
He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’s the strongest, right?
Swallowing heavily, you try to put your mind to something - anything - other than the memory of that battlefield and the blood. So much blood. Everywhere.
God, you should’ve stayed. What if Satoru-
That was when you felt it.
The tight, uncomfortable feeling of atoms standing at attention all around you. The air was so stagnant and heavy that it was almost hard to breathe.
You don’t know how you realize what it is - but you don’t get the chance to wonder about it either. Because the thought has barely even crossed your mind before everything else is thrown at the window at those two words.
Hoarse, and whispered, voice ever-so-slightly cracking at the end. One you recognized, one you knew you always would.
“My love?”
Satoru.
It was a miracle that you didn’t get whiplash from how fast you whirled around to face the doorway - and it was an even bigger miracle that you didn’t trip at how your legs were carrying you to that tall, familiar flash of white hair without a second thought.
Hell, you don’t think you’ve ever run this fast in your life, and it still wasn’t quick enough when Satoru engulfed you in his arms. Letting out a soft sigh as he hugs you tight enough that it hurt, like he never wanted to let go.
All familiar warmth and a rapid heartbeat that matched your own.
A shiver runs down your spine at that scent of the infirmary, tinged with something so dangerously metallic, miles away from the usual hints of pine and candy. But you only pull Satoru closer - not even realizing the tears staining his snug t-shirt, nails digging into his sculpted back.
“S-Satoru?” you murmur wetly, as if you still couldn’t believe it - even when you were in his strong arms.
It killed you to pull away, and Satoru wasn’t any better, pulling you firmly to his heated body with a guttural grunt as soon as you showed any signs of shifting away. Grip almost bruising, fingers tight on your hips. But you didn’t mind, why would you?
Because the strongest was nothing under your will - he always was. And it’s only once you break the embrace just a fraction of an inch that you confirm that this actually was Satoru - your Satoru.
“You’re here.” you breathe out unsteadily, not knowing where to look first - his heaving chest, as if he’d run all the way here, or those faint scars along his exposed skin. Jagged, running down his pale skin like he was too impatient - too distracted - to let them heal properly. Satoru’s face was scarily blank, pretty lips set in a tight grimace like every second you weren’t locked in his arms killed him.
He doesn’t answer - like he didn’t know himself. Nervously, you raise your eyes to meet his and-
Oh, Satoru, he was here. Alive.
Looking like he was ready to make sure that no one else was.
You just wondered where they’d pile all the casualties. Too many to bury at Jujutsu High if those tiny blue flickers of lightning at the corners of Satoru’s eyes were anything to go by.
Gaze hooded, pupils blown, he didn’t look at you with that usual warmth. No, he looked at you like a man that had crawled back from death just to rip you apart. And you had half the mind to wonder whether this was some special grade curse that had just come disguised as your best friend.
“Are you okay?” you try again, raising a hand to cup his cheek. “Toru?”
Oh, you might as well have just signed your own will, because no sooner are the words out of your mouth before Satoru’s jolting. Like the mere sound of that stupid little nickname from high school was enough to shock him to his very core.
Electrify him just enough to finally look at you like it was the first time. Like he was seeing you after a thousand years. “My love.”
There it was again, that quiet, strained little mantra.
Followed very closely by the deafening slam! of the door behind him, so hard that you spy one of the hinges rattling off. Startled, you look over Satoru’s broad shoulders just to catch a glimpse of the single, large handprint charred into the wood, slight steam wafting from his hand.
Shit. He’s lost it.
Almost like the strongest has forgotten his restraint - or didn’t care about it either way. Heated, you wondered what this boded for you.
Will you be lucky number one on his kill list? You wonder, as Satoru presses his mouth right above your pulse. Racing. Dangerous. Feeling the rapid thump! thump! thump! under his lips.
Breathing you in, dragging his nose up, up, up- He mutters into your skin, “Y’can kill me if you don’t want this.” Will you go down - if there’s anyone left to remember, that is - as the casualty that surely and officially signaled the honored one’s descent into madness? Only the second best friend he had to kill?
Or, Satoru pulls away slowly from his little haven, breath ghosting your lips as he gasps out a shaky, “No God can take me away without doing this.” Will it be something else entirely?
And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him.
Because fuck, how could you not? This is Satoru, and this is all you’ve ever wanted since those late night convenience store runs in high school, hand-in-hand and teleporting away from a furious Yaga.
The same Satoru that had cockily winked at you goodbye before facing Sukuna - leaving you crying with nothing to hold onto but those cold, cold hands and wishes that you’d have just fucking kissed him before. Maybe even put aside your pride to just tell him.
But none of that mattered now, because Satoru was so desperate - drinking you in like you were the last breath of air on Earth. Like it hurt more to part with your lips than it was to be cleaved in half.
Such a mess of teeth and saliva, and you were addicted. Drunk off his sweet taste - like candy, almost, and those cheap mochi he always got from downtown - and the electricity pricking at you each time your skin grazed against his.
It almost hurt - but it hurt so good.
Gasping, you pull away for air - impossible with the way Satoru was like a madman, kissing your swollen lips again and again and-
“Toru!” you squeal, muffled through his lips. “Aren’t you-” His mouth drops into a soft oh! at the delicate strings of saliva snapping in the non-existent space between you two. Surging forward like he couldn’t help himself. “Battlefield- mmpf- now?”
With a pained grunt, Satoru finally halts, just a hair’s breadth from your lips. And if you were in any better state of mind, maybe you’d have noticed the brief flicker of blue lightning all over his body. The way the lights flicker.
“Special curtain.” he pants against your open mouth, a muscled thigh shoving between your weakening legs. “Time barely passes in here.”
You don’t know what your head is reeling more from his words or his hands - hands that kill - caressing you like a lover everywhere. Unable to decide between your hips, to your ass, to your pretty pretty face. Kiss-bitten lips uttering, “Everyone’s waiting for you.”
“So?” Satoru lets out a humorless laugh. About an octave higher than usual, like he was at the end of his rope now. Eyes hazy and glowing, looking as if it took everything in him to not just tear off that uniform and take you right now.
“But-”
“Shut up and let me ruin you, my love.”
Your back is hitting the mattress before you can even start to wonder what the fuck is happening. One second standing at the doorway and the other all sprawled out on Satoru’s bed.
Besides yourself, you blurt out, trying to make sense of the situation to both of you two. “Did- did you just teleport us?”
“Don’t know.” he answers. And Satoru sounded like he genuinely didn’t know, as bewildered as you were. Powers acting before him - way, way before he can think - as he fists your shirt in his hands. “Don’t care.”
And you half wondered whether Satoru was even aware of what he was doing as he pulls, down, down down.
Rip!
It tears through the air - both the sound, and the way he’s just pulling your shirt to shreds. All depravity and no repentance as Satoru throws it behind God-knows-where. Buttons hitting the floor at a maddening little rhythm to which he was slowly losing his sanity.
He was kissing you like he was angry - taking it out on your poor clothes. Because before you know it, he’s pulling your bra off. Fingers searing on your skin, skirt just tatters on the floor.
“Waited too long.” he groans, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. “Always wanted to do this.” And once he started, it was like Satoru just couldn’t stop, rambling into the valley of your breasts, “Ever since I first saw you and oh-”
That was it - only one look at your panties, all flimsy and drenched - and you’re back to wondering what Satoru’s kill count would be. You shudder as his eyes widen, letting out a strangled gasp from some deep, primal part of himself. Voice so broken and starved as he muses, “-can’t believe I waited this long.”
Shit. You weren’t making it out alive.
Immediately, Satoru’s dropping further down the mattress, easily pushing your knees up all the way till they were at your breasts.
And it was so unfair.
Unhair how he was still fully clothed, while you were spread so shamefully. Unfair how he was sliding his underneath your panties up and down, grazing your swollen folds. Up and down, up and down up and- Pooling your sweet sweet juices on his fingertips before pulling, marveling at how sinfully soaked they were.
And it was like something snapped - maybe his whatever restraint he had left, probably you by the end of this. Because just a split-second later, Satoru’s tearing right through your panties. Not even taking a second to breathe before burying his pretty face into your dripping cunt.
Unfair how you were liking it so dangerously. Being so used.
And Satoru knows - he thinks, with whatever rationality he has left intact - that he wants to admire your pretty lil’ cunt. To finally drink in what he’s been dreaming about for years all these lonely nights. But, no, that’s for later - for a different Satoru, one that didn’t feel like he was going to fucking die if he didn’t taste you right now.
“Ah! Hngh- T-Toru-” you arch into his hot tongue, as he licks erratically up your folds, long, sloppy movements of his tongue all the way from your base to your swollen clit. Lapping at your juices like he couldn’t stop.
“Tha’s right.” words muffled into your cunt. Throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders. “Gimme more, use me. Use me- fuck fuck fuck- yeah.”
He sounded as delirious as you were already, flinching with each word spat into your sensitive cunt. Drunk off your pussy and so messy, like he was well and fully intent on ruining you.
And it’s all you can do to sob so needily as he swirls his tongue around your sensitive clit. Seemingly unable to decide between sucking on it harshly and dipping into your sloppy hole. In and out. Wanting everything. Anything.
“Fuck. S’too deep. Sh-shit.”
“Oh yeah?” he’s grinning, a cruel, cold little grin. You can feel it as he rolls his tongue against your clit over and over. “S’not deep enough.”
You pathetically try to close your legs around his head in shock, as the tips of his long fingers spread open your pussy further, teasing your entrance.
But who were you against the strongest? The one that got everything handed to him on a silver platter since birth? Except you - until now, that is.
Because Satoru’s swatting thighs back open like it was a mere inconvenience, and feel your cunt clench in- fear? Anticipation? as you realize how gently he was throwing you around like a ragdoll, in comparison to that door from earlier.
“No.” he sounds absolutely wrecked, babbling around your throbbing clit. “Need this- need you.”
And then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your plushy pussy, so greedily that your slick is trailing down his wrist. Drinking in your pretty gasps of his name as he roams for that one spot he knows will have you seeing stars - only the best for his girl, right? The only thing on his mind right now, like a predator starved.
You can only tug on his hair and buck wildly underneath him, inching Satoru closer to where he was desperately searching for. Close - so close.
“Toru-” you moan, like a prayer.
But it wasn’t fast enough.
Not for Satoru, at least.
Even through the haze in your eyes, you could make out that brief flash of electric blue in-between your legs, eyes widening as ah-
That cheat.
You wondered if he even knew he was using his powers right now. Or whether Satoru was too far gone at this point. Way too smug with the way he hits that one spot. Hard.
Ah, you quiver as something so dark sparks in his eyes. Looking like a man starved, that had finally come across his favorite meal. Moving with frightening accuracy as he pumps his fingers in and out, hitting it each and every time.
“Shit, ngh-” you let out a shrill moan, “It’s too good. You’re so fucking-”
One hand was so messy toying with your dripping entrance - the other digging into your hips. Dragging your sloppy pussy senselessly all over his mouth.
Hard enough that you were sure it’d leave marks for tomorrow. If you even made it that long, that is, if the tiny shocks of electricity at his fingertips told you anything.
Desperate. Violent, even.
So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same. “Fuck- m’cumming m’cumming, fuck fuck fuck-” You’re shaking as you cum, crying out Satoru’s name and delirious little moans that you’d otherwise be embarrassed of.
And he doesn’t stop. Not when you’re blinking your vision back. Not when you’re shying away from his tongue, the stars behind your eyes too much with each flick of his tongue.
“S’too much- too- fuck, sensitive, Toru.” you whine, big fat tears clinging to your lashes.
Ah, there it was again. Just when Satoru was beginning to think that he might just be veering into a state of mind that could be considered sane - you have to call him that goddamn nickname again. And it’s only driving him wild.
Well, he muses, fumbling with the hem of his t-shirt, it’s really on you then.
You let out a fucked-out little whine as Satoru finally takes his shirt off, revealing such milky, toned skin. All sharp curves and dips like he was sculpted so meticulously, going down, down, down and- Your breath hitches at the large, pink scar standing out of his torso, so uneven and fresh that you feel a fresh wave of tears - different ones, this time.
You take a steadying breath, eyes unmoving from the injury. “Satoru-”
“No.” Satoru’s tone is firm, so different from the metallic tinkling of his belt. He was moving now, shifting in between your legs to kiss those tears away. “Need this. Need you. Need you need you need you so bad-”
“But your…” you trail off. The words catch in your throat as he finally unbuckles his belt, pulling down his pants just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Red, and so so angry, soaked in precum.
He was so…massive. Now, you expected your best friend to have a big dick, but this was ridiculous. He was so intimidatingly long, thick enough that you could feel the slick beading out of your sloppy hole already.
Yeah, you definitely weren’t making it out alive.
Satoru sees it too, of course, because his cock twitches furiously. A low hiss leaving those pretty pink lips before he’s spitting on your quivering cunt. Once. Twice.
And you know that if this shameless bastard could use six eyes to find your g-spot, then he could’ve done the same for this. But, no, he lets some of it miss, splattering against your inner thigh, smearing all over as Satoru thumbs in his saliva with your slick.
God, he was treating you like some object. Wordlessly throwing your legs over his shoulders, dragging his weeping tip down your swollen folds. So fucking filthy.
And then you feel like you’re been split apart - because Gojo Satoru was unforgiving. As was his aching cock. He’s barely even pressing through the first ring of muscle, and you already feel like he’s pushing all the way into your lungs.
“T-Toru.” you yelp, glancing down at the way your pussy was stretched so lewdly around his thick cock. Quivering as he keeps pushing and pushing and- no mercy. Absolutely none at all. “Can feel you so deep inside ngh- I don’t think I can…”
“No no no no no-” he’s panting into your open mouth. Fucking into your heavenly cunt in mindless, shallow little thrusts just to squeeze deeper inside. “Need this. Want this. Always did. God, fuck fuck fuck, you can do it-”
“But-”
God, Satoru can’t help but kiss you - to shut those cute lil’ whines up more than anything, he’s sure he’ll cum right there and right now if he didn’t.
Because Satoru wasn’t any better. Body bowing into yours, eyes rolling to the back of his head, mouth falling into a delirious oh! as he finally bottoms out. Balls smacking your ass too hard, your pussy too tight, you too beautiful underneath him.
Blindly, he reaches for the headboard - white-knuckling it so hard that it’s a wonder it doesn’t break.
It does - and later you’ll find a pile of splinters behind the bed. It’s just that neither of you notice. Too high off the feeling of Satoru’s cock pushing inside you. You’re clawing at his back now, gasping for air. Letting him fold you in half to filthily lick away the tears pooling at your cheeks.
“Shit- y’got this, my love. You gotta- ah- Breathe-” he can’t even speak properly, sharp tongue so heavy. Eyes glowing with such insanity as he rocks his hips harder into yours.
He was right - you needed to breathe. To finally wrap your head around the fact that this was Satoru - your best friend - the same one that binge-watches sappy rom-coms with you after every breakup. Every. Single. One. Somehow, you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Both of you were barely-lucid at this point. And he was out of control now.
Funny, how in all his dreams when you were screaming his name - Satoru was always suave, methodical, playing with your pretty pussy like a fine instrument. Right now, he was anything but. Sloppy - like he didn’t have enough time, never would, even in this room where time slowed.
“Don’t you run away.” he grunts at the way you’re so adorably torn between running away from his cock and bucking for more more more- “Waited twelve fucking years for this. N’ m’gonna take it.”
You almost sob at the pressure as he laces his fingers on top of your head to slide you impossibly deeper. Down, down, down. “S’too good, Toru. Wan’ more-”
“More.” Satoru breathes, more to himself than anything. Eyes widening almost comically, a fucked-out smile spreading all over his face. “Y’want more even when you’re filled to-” He traces an invisible line halfway down your tummy. “Here?”
“Yes.” you gasp as he reaches down to toy with your throbbing clit, drawing tight, frenzied little circles. Balls smacking your ass so painfully, thumb pressing down right where his tip was hitting your cervix - as if he used six eyes to see. “Always wanted more. Always have, Toru.”
And you swear you could see something physically snap inside Satoru. Because his eyes glaze over, grin dropping instantly from his face.
If you weren’t so cockdrunk maybe you’d have caught the way the bedroom lights flicker, the one down the hallway bursting.
“Always, huh?” he’s muttering, grip on your body tightening like a vice. “Wanted more like me?” Rocking into you so sloppily, cock twitching so painfully as he speeds up. Fingers just as desperate - as depraved as his hips.
And this time, he doesn’t even have to use six eyes to find that one spot. Knowing your body well enough to hit it over and over until you were sobbing. “More more more more- fuckin’ take it then.”
At this point you didn’t know whether Satoru was always this ruthless in bed or you’d just broken him. It felt so good that it was almost scary. And your delirious mind wandered into the thought that maybe the bed would break - and your bones to follow.
Well, they would have if Satoru hadn’t been using reversed cursed technique. But you didn’t need to know that just yet.
“Satoru-” you squeal as he only gets more erratic. “I’m…”
“Close?” Satoru’s grunting, smacking his lips against your own.
It’s laughable, really, that muffled question - because Satoru knew you were close. Losing his fucking mind, actually, at how you were squeezing so hard around him. Balls squeezing so painfully right now, but he wanted you to cum first - needed you to cum first.
“Yeah, so close. Wan’ cum- Ah! Please-”
“Then cum. Fucking cum, wan’ed this so bad.” he’s babbling deliriously. Little sparks of lightning visible even to your glassy eyes, fingers humming with a dangerous little energy that stimulated you so good. “Yeah, yeah yeah yeah fucking cum, wanna hngh-”
And then you are. So sudden and hard that you don’t even realize it at first. Just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. Rocking your hips into Satoru’s like such a slut.
Oh, if heaven was really then the part of Satoru that can still form coherent thoughts thinks this just might be it.
Because only the sight of you creaming all around his swollen cock and he’s cumming and cumming so hard that it hurts. Thick, hot ropes of cum that he can’t seem to stop. Doesn’t want to stop, and God he thinks he could cum until you beg and beg and beg it’s too much. Until you’re yelling for-
“Mercy!” you moan, head spinning with how fucking overfilled your pussy was. “Please, Toru-”
Satoru lets out a slight gasp, “Mercy?” Chuckling so cruelly at your dazed nod, “No mercy, my love. None at all.”
And God, it was so fucking hard to look at him too - eyes half-lidded and miles away, flushed and looking like he was anywhere but laid out on a hospital bed just a few minutes ago. In fact, Satoru looked like he was in heaven on Earth as he only milked his painfully hard cock on your snug pussy.
Pretty. Always so fucking pretty.
And he kept whispering that, over and over in your ear as you both ride out your highs. Oh how he loved you.
Your eyes fly open, and Satoru knew he’d said that out loud. Shit. But, well, with the way you were immediately pulling him to collapse into your arms, he thinks he really doesn’t mind.
“Love you, love you. Love you so much. Always did, always wanted to love you- to fuck you.” You barely even notice him marking down your neck, sharp canines digging into the flesh like he wanted to break something. Hard enough that you distinctly wondered whether he was out for blood. “To ruin you.”
It was oozing out of you, both Satoru’s cum - dribbling down your legs in thick globs, pooling on the overpriced sheets below - and his power. Jolts of electricity running down all the way from your poor, abused cunt to your hazy mind.
“So do it.” The air was crackling - crackling with intensity and the smell of jujutsu. It was in your veins, in your words as you whisper, “Ruin me. You’re the- ngh- only- one f’me, Toru. Always was.”
The lights go out. All of them - all across Tokyo, in fact. Shining so bright that it was blinding, until they burst. The last thing you see are his eyes - electrified with blue lightning, burning into your brain.
And then it’s black.
---
“I’ll be back before ya know it, my love.” he whispers against your forehead, cooing at the way you stir sleepily. “Gotta pest to take care of.”
Taking down that curtain wasn’t the hard part, the hard part was actually fucking regaining his senses enough to do so.
And now, all cleaned up and fucked to sleep on his bed, you were looking so unbearably delectable that it made some part of Satoru just want to stay behind this curtain. To forget the waiting sorcerers on the battlefield. Saving the world be damned.
Well, no matter, Satoru had time. He was the strongest, right? After all, how could he give you the world if there was no world to give?
“N’ when I’m back, m’gonna kiss ya to death till you go out with me. Till everyone knows you’re unmistakably mine.”
A/N. GET IT - that unmistakable bit from the panel?
Plagiarism not authorized.
#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#tonywrites
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⤷❝The Study | Coriolanus Snow❞ˎˊ-
⇢☾Warning: NSFW | riding, toxic relationship, arranged marriage, mentions of cheating (no actual cheating occurs), riding, dom sub undertones, degradation (he calls you a slut once), hair pulling, edging if you squint, crying, pinv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), creampie, dry humping, clothed sex (you were still wearing a dress) | lmk if I forgot anything!
⇢☾Pairing: young president! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader
⇢☾Summary: A video of you flirting with an elitist goes viral and Snow calls you to his study to confront you about it and it ends up in sexy times ;)
⇢☾A/N: btw for those who doesn't get why Snow asked reader to mark him, it's to show the Capitol that despite rumors, they are actually very close. And uhmm I hope you guys like this!
< masterlist > < bc: @cafekitsune >
< tags: @roryzzz @stelleduarte @strengthandstay @skywalker1dream >
The marriage was a facade, a show for the Capitol that the president didn't stand alone. The people in the manor were the only people who knew how fake the marriage was. Some of the elite of the Capitol could also tell. People can fake everything but not love, never love.
You learned early on Snow wasn't capable of love. A lover wouldn't do half of the atrocities Snow committed as he got to power but he had never done anything to you. You didn't exist for him in the manor and he was always respectful when you were by his side.
It was manageable, the life you had, nobody could mistreat you, not as the First Lady of Panem. However mistreatment and flirting are very different things, and the people of Capitol aren't a stranger to wandering hands and lustful eyes.
You didn't think Coriolanus would mind that you sometimes let the hands linger. That you would bask in the attention you were so deprived of from your husband. You were proven wrong as a video of you and an elitist was going viral all over the Capitol.
You didn't cheat on Snow, but you were too close to the stranger. His hand on your waist and your smile too wide. Cheating or not, it wasn't any less inappropriate.
A remainder by your servant made you walk to the study in which Snow spent most of his time. You were wearing a knee-length white dress, something that clings to your curves. It was a desperate, pathetic attempt to distract Snow. A part of you knew it wouldn't work and would make your mistake more obvious but it was an attempt better than none.
You knocked at the door and you could hear him say come in. So you did. Your hands are behind your back, and your eyes look at the floor like it's the most interesting thing in the world.
“Do you know what you have done?” He asked, you still couldn't look up to meet his gaze. Your fingers fumble behind your back as you bite your inner cheek. You give him a nod.
“And what have you done?” He questioned, his voice like the calm before the storm. “I created unnecessary gossip that isn't good for your reputation,” you mummer.
“What else?” He said, his tone suspicious and waiting for the confirmation. That's when you look up at the most beautiful demon you have ever seen. He looked all glorious with his suit and hair slicked back. “I didn't cheat,” you said, firmly, your eyes fierce and reflecting the truth of your words.
When Snow didn't reply, you insisted again, “I. Didn't. Cheat. It's a line I will never cross, Coriolanus.” Again, he didn't say anything, instead, his gaze went up and down your body, his expression unreadable. You flushed from his stare, not sure if wearing this dress was the right move after all. The man had always surrounded himself with those stupid white roses and this was the symbol that you had noticed.
“Come and sit.” You begin to walk towards the chair only to be interrupted by his words, “No, not there, in my lap.” You freeze from his words, but your brain tells you to obey his every word.
You make your way to him, your heels clicking against the marble floor. Your hands are sweaty and your heart is in your throat. You reach him before you straddle him without a word being uttered. Your dress hitching up to your thighs. Your hands around his shoulders as you wait for further instructions from your husband.
“What do you think we should do to make the rumors go away?” He asked, his voice deep and so seductive. You weren't even sure he realized the effect his voice had on you. You let out a small gasp when his hands held your hips, cementing your place in his lap.
His hands were warm and perhaps maybe it was biased but you thought they would be ice cold. Instead, his palm laminated heat against the thin fiber of your dress making your skin warm. Your former flush turns into a deeper shade of red.
“We could…” you couldn't focus, how could you when he was touching you like this? When he was so close. He was never this close to you before. Ever. His touch reminded you of the fact that despite everything he is a man and your husband at that. A demon in human flesh.
“We could do more PR,” you mumbled. He raised an eyebrow at the suggestion. “I mean if we do it right, I am sure it will work,” you fumbled. He gives you a nod.
“Take off my shirt,” he demanded. Your eyes widen and you hesitate. “Do it or I’ll make you.” he threatened and you know not to take his words lightly. With shaky fingers, you unbutton his shirt. The process was slow, meticulously slow. His toned physique comes into complete view, making your breath hitch. Fuck, he was a Greek God of tragedy and sin.
“Mark me up,” he said, his tone emotionless. “What?” you questioned, surprised. “You think you’re acting innocent?” he sneered, “You heard what I said, my wife. It's because of your suggestion. Mark. Me. Up.”
You swallow down your nervousness and bring your lips forward to his cheek. You pressed a soft kiss there and felt him tense underneath you. You drag your lips to his jaw and nip the skin, the tip of your tongue soothing the small teeth mark as he lets out a grunt. It was music to you. A masterpiece of symphony and you needed more, so much more. Snow had you deprived for months and it's time to take.
Your lips continue to nip at his jaw, placing sloppy wet kisses as his breaths get heavy. You moved down to his neck, a moan leaving your lips as you attacked his skin with your teeth. Sucking onto his pulse point and moaning when the salty taste of his skin hits your taste buds. Your hand goes to his neck, tilting his head to give you more access. All the while he lets out quite controlled sounds. You licked his Adam's apple before wrapping your mouth around it to suck a purple bruise. Marking him up just as he wanted.
His hand on your waist gave you a firm squeeze which made you bite harder and made him hiss. You lean back panting, as you admire your artwork of teeth marks and red love bites. You pressed down into him and moaned as his hard bulge pressed right against your clothed cunt. Your panties were soaked by now. “Snow,” you whimper.
“Corio, call me Corio” he whispered. His eyes briefly turned to a white bouquet of roses before he met your gaze. You didn't think much of it and whispered, “Corio.”
“Corio,” you tried the name again on your tongue and watched his eyes darken. You leaned in, your lips brushing against his. “Let me kiss you. Let me make you my husband, please,” you whispered.
You waited for a verbal answer but all you got was another squeeze on your waist. You were desperate enough to take what you could get. You started by grinding against his bulge. The juices that made your panties soaked are now ruining his pants.
You let out a breathless moan as you gained delicious friction against your pussy but it wasn't enough. There's no hell and heaven for which this would be enough. You crashed your lips to his. The kiss was all carnage and desire. Uncoordinated, something so unlike Snow Corio that it made you moan into his mouth. Your hands are in his hair, pulling him closer. Your lips glide against each other perfectly. His tongue took over your mouth, not leaving any place unexplored, untouched by him.
You break the kiss with a gasp. Your hand going towards his pants to unzip. The motion stopped as Corio held your wrist and you looked up at him. “You’re my wife, you're my right,” he said, “but do you deserve it?”
It was more than a question, it was a promise waiting to be made, a bond waiting to be sealed. “I…” you begin to speak, you meet his eyes, sea blue you wanted to drown in, “Never again, Sn- Corio. Never again.” “Please,” you added for extra measure. You had his taste already, no one else could ever compare. He had to know that too because he gave you a sharp nod.
You get up from his lap, taking off your panties first, not bothering with the dress. You knew he liked it now, more than you thought so he would. You find your rightful place in his lap again, his pants and boxers past his knees.
His cock was hard and twitching, the length had an angry tip with its slit profusely leaking pre-cum. It looked painful and it was because of you. You. You wondered if you had power over him now for a brief second but you shake your head clear of these thoughts.
Instead, you catch his lips again, the kiss slower this time. You raise yourself a bit so his cock can align itself to your entrance. Your dress is raised to help you. Even if his cock was on the girthy side with veins on the underside of his cock. You knew your pussy would stretch around him, that your walls would be a splendid fit around his length. You were too impatient for any sort of foreplay, you wanted the stretch, you wanted him to make you dizzy with his cock splitting you apart.
You let out a whimper as you began to sink onto his cock, your eyes flicked to him and his eyes were zeroed down to the place you both were connected now. His hands are on either side of your hip, guiding you down on his length. It was after his cock was fully stuffed in you, that his self-control allowed him to let out a groan.
“I respected you like a lady but sluts don't deserve respect,” he said, his lips parted as he let out a heavy pant. You let out a whimper, your mind hazy as your cunt tries to get used to his length. “I.. am sorry,” you whine, how many times do you need to repeat? When will he be satisfied with your apology?
“Prove it,” he said with a smirk, “Prove that you deserve to be my wife and the First Lady of Panem.”
You follow Corios’ command. Your hands are on his shoulders to support yourself. Your fingers fist his shirt as you begin to ride him. Raising yourself a few inches before slamming down on his cock with a loud moan escaping your lips. He reached the deepest spot inside of you like this. His cockhead grazing your spongy spot as you fucking yourself on his cock. Your arousal and his pre-cum being smeared all over your thighs.
The sight made his breath hitch, something you didn't notice as you were too busy with your eyes closed and taking his cock like a good wife. You looked completely debauched like this, your hair wild, your lips red and swollen, your hands digging into his shoulder. Your nipples are hard and obvious through the white dress.
He wasn't supposed to lose control, this was happening for a reason. No matter how many deem him God or devil in the end he was a man. And no man is perfect. He pulled you closer to him. One of his hands is on your back, pressing you to him. Another of his hands in your hair, tugging the strands without a care about how rough he is being. It makes you moan, your head on his chest now. His hips raise upwards to fuck you as he now lets out more vocal sounds of enjoyment.
His pace was slower than yours. Each thrust of his was made for his indulgence in your velvet walls. The drag of his cock was perfect, his speed however was making you feel insane. You needed him, faster, harder. Used would be a much more correct term. You wanted to be used by your husband. And right now, you were but it wasn't enough.
You let out mewls and whines to make him break his languid pace but Corio gives you no mind. His fingers interlanged in your locks, his hand still pressing you in and his strength made it so you couldn't take control. He was drunk in the pleasure your pussy gave, his head resting on his headrest, his lips parted to let out a grunt with every thrust.
You weren't a person for him, not right now, a fleshlight perhaps. It didn't matter what you felt, it mattered what Snow felt. Snow felt amazing, he felt stupid for denying himself this for months on end. He would never make the same mistake again.
Time passes and you don't know how long Corio has you like this, your nerves raw as your pussy impossibly sensitive. Tears were falling from your eyes and staining his shirt but moans slipped your lips every time he pushed in again.
“Corio, please,” you try to plead, raising your head to look at him. “Please, please can't anymore.” He turns his head to you, his fingers that you seemed to have forgotten were in your hair tugging your strands roughly.
That was it. You gasp out as the pain becomes a trigger to make you cum on his cock, your pussy tightening around his cock like a vice as the orgasm washes over your body. It was intense and you had snapped. “Sorry! Sorry!” You begin to sob, “I won't ever look at a man that's not you! Sn- Corio please!”
His languid thrust had sped up, his arms caging you to his chest. The last thing you heard before he spilled his seed inside of you was, “Snow lands on top.”
#character x reader#x reader#x female reader#fem reader#scenario#oneshot#smut#x you smut#x reader smut#x you#arranged marriage#tbosas fanfiction#tbosas#tbosas x reader#tbosas x you#tbosas smut#the ballad of songbirds and snakes movie#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#coriolanus x reader#young coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow smut#coriolanus snow x reader#corio snow#coriolanus snow#Coriolanus#president snow#snow x reader#thg x reader#thg fanfiction#the hunger games
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The Safeword is RadioApple (part 1)
I’m gonna go ahead and apologize right now
Lucifer x FemaleReader x Alastor
Part 1 ꒰აMaleReader✧FemaleReader໒꒱
Part 2 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱
Part 3 ꒰აAlastorxLucifer໒꒱
tidbit (cute, not smut)
Part 4 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱✨NEW✨
₊⊹⁀➴ Lucifer wins⟡Alastor Wins
Alastor would give you anything, all you had to do was ask. When you asked for Lucifer, he delivered. But after seeing just how much you enjoyed Alastor’s rough handling, Lucifer takes a turn and gets a little lost in the pleasure.
tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x Reader, Lucifer x Reader, smut, RadioApple in a sense, fem reader, creampie, breath play, rough sex, Alastor is an eternal little shit, soft jazz, hard jazz, Luci calls himself Daddy, 🗣️ READER GETS SPITROASTED, threesome, cervix hulk smashed, half assed blowjob, help I got too horny on main
Minors dni
“Sir.”
Lucifer jumped, whipping around and shoving Alastor’s face away. “You are a living nightmare, fuck!” He hated being snuck up on, as most people do. Adjusting his hat, he looked around the hotel lobby to see if anyone else witnessed his personal jump scare. Charlie and Vaggie were seated nearby, but hadn’t paid them any attention.
“I aim to please! Now,” Alastor gestured to the stairs, “I, unfortunately, need to show you something upstairs.”
“Ha!” Lucifer forced out a laugh, “Ha. Haaa- Not a chance, scarecrow. Find someone else to search for your brain.” He smirked to himself. “Did you hear that Charlie? I made a joke.”
But Charlie was not laughing. She finally turned her focus to them. “Dad, you have to start trying to get along with Alastor.” She looked to Alastor who was nodding along as if he actually cared at all, “He’s trying to spend time with you. Come on, Dad. For me?”
With a pout, he dramatically crossed his arms, “Fine. I’ll play nice, for you. Not for him.” Lucifer glared daggers at Alastor. “Fuck him.”
“Daaad!” She groaned.
“Yeah yeah, I’m going.”
Alastor let his microphone follow behind Lucifer’s back, an unseen and unfelt safety net so he couldn’t back out. When they approached Alastor’s door, Lucifer put up his hands as if to physically stop the situation from progressing, “There is no way in all of hell I am going in your bedroom.”
Alastor’s eyes rolled, frustrated already with the interaction. “Are you sure about that?” He pushed the door open, using his mic to make contact with the small of Lucifer’s back. He stopped resisting when he finally looked into the room.
He took a step in, willingly, and as he saw you sitting in the center of the bed in just your silk sleep robe, he let out a quiet, “What the fuck is this?”
Then a louder, “Heeey, kitten…”. The sound of the door locking made his head whip back to Alastor, teeth bared.
“Luci.”
Softened under the sound of his own name from your lips he brought his attention back to the bed.
It was no secret to anyone that you two were fond of each other. It was the little things you did that endeared the fallen angel to you, how you doted on him. Filling his glass at dinner when you noticed it getting close to empty, holding the door for him, keeping eye contact when he went off on some excited tangent.
Everyone was also aware you were Alastor’s person. And Alastor would give you anything you wanted in death; and today you happened to want Luci.
You’d seen the broadcasts of the King of Hell defending his daughter during the last extermination. The power he gave off, even from your screen, brought goosebumps down your arms. So when you found your way to the hotel, you were elated to see Lucifer himself readily available for interactions. Your luck continued, as your father’s love of jazz had been passed down to you and allowed the radio demon to notice your presence among the sea of new residents. Following the sounds of Nat ‘King’ Cole, he found you one evening in your room, and a mutual fondness for music bore a new friend. And then, more.
Soon enough you were a regular member of the Hazbin Hotel core crew, by way of Alastor.
That’d been some months ago now, and you finally had the courage to ask Alastor for a special favor.
No part of him understood your motivation, but the idea of making the king of hell pussy-whipped to his darling was understanding enough. And, of course, the pleasure of watching you enjoy yourself. While he was capable all his own, he was happy to allow someone else to fill in. Not to mention—- no, actually, definitely mention the fact it would give him a little more power in the tense dynamic between himself and Lucifer.
For Alastor, sharing you physically wasn’t an issue. Sex was something he did for your pleasure, though he did enjoy the control he held over you in those intimate moments.
Watching you mewl under someone else, knowing he gave the permission, that Lucifer would never have a chance in Hell if The Radio Demon didn't allow it, made his head dizzy with the loss of blood flow. Whatever pleasure Lucifer could give you was pleasure he has granted you both. The idea of someone pining for you but never having a chance unless he says so made him feel powerful.
“I have a request, of sorts.” You tried to keep your smile still, cheeks twitching with pure nerves. The room was lit by only two small lamps on either nightstand and the light coming from the half open bathroom.
Lucifer approached you, making a dramatic point of going past Alastor. The radio demon chuckled, the king of hell scowled. He placed one knee on the end of the bed, trying to forget this was the spot you shared most nights with Alastor. His smile encouraged you to continue.
“You can say no.” You added quickly.
“Why would I ever do that?” Lucifer continued to smile at you, too sweetly for what you were going to ask.
“Many reasons.” You added quicker.
“Come on, tell Luci.” He laughed softly at the idea of denying you anything.
You pressed the tips of your index fingers together nervously, “I want you to fuck me.”
He tried to blink but his eyelids only seemed to rise further and further up his face with every attempt.
“You what now?”
His eyes darted to Alastor, who was now crawling onto the bed and settling behind you.
“It was a fairly straightforward statement, sir.” Alastor’s tone was always teetering on mocking when he addressed Lucifer, “My dear would like you, for some god awful reason, to bed her.”
If this hadn’t been such a shock, Lucifer would have quipped, “Oh because you can’t, you overdressed maitre d’?”
But when he opened his mouth, there was nothing. He just stared at you. Alastor’s long legs and lanky arms came down beside you, behind you. You looked like the enticing light of an angler fish’s lure, sharp teeth shining just over your shoulder.
“I thought-,” he motioned between the two of you.
You nodded, “Alastor is happy when I’m happy. And right now, I’d be overjoyed to spend an evening taking care of you.”
Oh, why couldn’t you have said it so sweetly the first time? Take care of him? You always did. Every time he felt something lacking he’d find you close behind offering him just the thing.
Whether a smile, or supportive word, or just a sympathetic ear.
Shifting onto your hands and knees, you crawled toward Lucifer. His face was flush, his brows knitted together in some mix of worry and confusion.
“You don’t have to do that, kitten. I don’t need that.” He reached out a hand to touch your cheek but stopped himself; he’d never touched you before. He had gone out of his way to avoid it, because he couldn’t bear what it would do to him. He’d just be hurting himself, he had thought. His hand began to pull away but you reached out with both of yours and took hold of his wrist.
“I don’t have to do anything, ever, Luci,” Alastor’s grin widened as you said it. A hum of approval only he could hear. A silent, ‘That’s my girl.’
“This is about what I want.” You leaned up to rest your cheek in his open palm, “I’ll accept any answer from you.” Your eyes staring up at him promised safety, “So, what do you want?”
He buried his face in his free hand, opening his fingers to look over you once more. In the shade of the canopied bed, Alastor sat motionless. But Lucifer couldn’t see him, not because of the shadows but because his focus was so purely on you. He had absolute tunnel vision, which happened often when you two would speak. Lucifer made a low sound, coming from somewhere deep in his chest, hidden beneath all his shame and sense of inadequacy.
Your question was answered as he removed his hat, tossing it to the chaise lounge near the wall. You sat back on your legs and gave him space to remove his coat. Your heart seemed to double its pace, skin practically vibrating. A not-insignificant part of you expected a gentle but firm, “kindly fuck off.”
He seemed to be avoiding eye contact as he pulled his bow tie loose, only returning his knee to the bed when he’d kicked off his boots. Just the shifting of the weight of the bed made your thighs twitch, finally. Alastor leaned backed and watched, Lucifer’s gaze was full of uncertainty as he crawled to you.
Hilarious. Already worth the price of admission.
Both on your knees, you leaned up and placed a chaste kiss on Lucifer’s lips. Pulling back, you looked at him and he felt like we’re looking at the sun. Your face was so bright, and warm. What light were you reflecting back at him? Surely not his own. That was long dead. Long buried under bruised wings and lost promises.
You snaked your fingers into his hair and brought him in for a deeper kiss. When you bit gently on his bottom lip, he shakily opened his mouth. Your grin spread across both of your faces as you pushed your way past his lips.
Lucifer’s tongue was long, and tapered more than you’d expected. It moved, unsure, against yours. Your hands slunk out of his hair and down his chest, sliding until finding the buttons of his vest.
You felt him gasp into you, and when you began to open his shirt he pulled away, “It’s been… a very long time.”
A scream echoed in your skulll, your own scream, thankfully entirely in your mind. He was so cute. So soft. He looked so worried, you wanted to rip him to pieces with affection. Was that possible? You were going to try.
Your hands fumbled over his belt, the tremble in your fingers making the pants button feel like an aptitude test. Your mouth returned to him, kissing down his cheeks and into the space under his jaw. Finally you could slip your hand down into his pants, and you hissed without thinking.
He was painfully hard, throbbing head pressed into his skin.
Did you do this? Had you gotten the King like this with just a question and a kiss? Tip nearly purple with pressure, you rested your forehead on his collarbone and watched his stomach jump as you wrapped your fingers around it.
Alastor fought back a laugh, tongue nearly cut clean off with the attempt. This was better than he had expected. And he had just the idea to push it over the top.
When your head dipped to swipe your tongue over Lucifer’s cock, you both startled at the sudden sound of music. First you looked to the radio, then to Alastor.
One hand was loosening his bow tie, the other unbuckling his pants.
“Don’t stop on my accord,” he bit his bottom lip, watching your attention return to Lucifer’s lap.
Lucifer raised a finger in protest, “I wasn’t aware this was a group activity.”
“The more the merrier.” Alastor whipped his belt off and tossed it to the floor, other hand pulling his member free.
“Three’s a crowd.”
“Two heads are better than one.” When Alastor lifted your robe away and sunk himself into you, no preparation, you moaned into the blonde hair at the base of Lucifer’s cock.
Your breath over his shaft and now down his balls made his hips buck against you. Your hands gripped at Lucifer’s thighs, trying to get steady enough to return your mouth to his waiting heat. You could smell his arousal, your head dizzy with so many of your senses being assaulted by both men.
“You okay, kitten?” A concerned hand came to your cheek.
Your watery, lust clouded eyes met his, “It feels so good, Luci.” His dick jerked. When you finally managed to get him in your mouth his head fell back, legs under him twitching with the need to move along to the bobbing of your head. Lucifer was wider than Alastor, the corners of your mouth burning as you tried to take in as much of him as possible.
Alastor’s hand raked long nails down your back, a whine ran from your throat and down Lucifer’s shaft. He moaned in turn, trying to not connect the dots between himself and Alastor.
“I think you may need a little demonstration, from someone more–, “ Alastor leaned down, his face now inches from Lucifer’s. His hand wrapped around your neck, “experienced.” He pulled you up by your throat.
Lucifer watched, your knees no longer touching the bed as Alastor fucked up into you. One hand gripping your throat, one arm holding your body against his. Your face began to redden, and your thighs noticeably clenching as best they could, legs open and feet on either side of Alastor’s body. Lucifer winced, you looked pained, he wanted—
“Aa--Alastor,” Your voice was like honey, thick and sweet around Alastor’s name. Lucifer’s face fell flat, how could he have that? What did he need to do to have you say his name in such a debauched way? Why did that gangly sack of bones get all of the fun?
“See? She can handle more than you’d expect.” Alastor grinned, planting a kiss on your neck. You could see Lucifer watching through your wet eyelashes, his cock twitching repeatedly as his hand finally came down to touch himself.
With the hand not holding onto Alastor’s wrist at your throat, you reached out for Lucifer. “Luci.”
Alastor let you fall forward. Keeping your hips in the air and knees dangling just above the comforter, he continued his rough pace into your sopping cunt. Pulling your body on and off of his length with harsh drags he watched you lick from the base to the top of Lucifer’s member. Each thrust from him knocking your chin against it.
When you popped the head back into your mouth and moaned around it from Alastor’s continued fucking, Lucifer gripped your hair with both hands. Alastor’s own erection jumped in you, the king of hell himself buckling from his dearest’s mouth. He could break him entirely by just pulling you off of Lucifer’s cock and refusing to return you. He was positive Lucifer would cry into his ruined orgasm if he did such a thing.
Tempting.
But, he promised to play along, for you. And he would, at his own terms.
He pushed aside the thought entirely, instead returning to the task in front of him. Your tongue was pinned down when Lucifer was in your mouth, cock too fat to allow any room for movement. You abandoned trying to suck him off, and changed tactics to lick and kiss the sensitive flesh in your hands.
Lucifer’s mind was—- he wasn't sure where exactly. His consciousness splintered around you. The feeling of you; your tongue was swirling around him, the first contact he’s had other than himself in literal years. The sound of you; your soft moans and huffs were both audible and physical, the hot breath ghosting over him. The sight of you; head in his lap as he leaned back, your ass in the air and making a satisfying slapping noise every time–
Alastor. His eyes met Lucifer’s and a wicked grin took hold of his features. Lucifer could practically hear Alastor whisper across your body, ‘Watch this.’ Maybe Alastor had thought it, but he kept it to himself.
Your hands began pumping Lucifer’s length while your body was slightly dragged away as Alastor backed up and let your knees find some solid ground again.
Lucifer sat on his legs still, eyes flitting from between your face to the place you and Alastor connected. He could see Alastor disappearing inside you, and every intrusion had you gasping and mewling into the blankets. Your hand was still gently stroking him with outstretched arms, eyes clenched close.
Alastor smirked up at Lucifer, coming down over your back to reach around your body and find your clit with his middle finger. Immediately, you reacted. Legs squeezing together, hands stilling around your king’s cock. With a bite and lick to your shoulder blade, the radio demon set a bruising pace against you. That warmth in your core was spreading down as you felt him press against your cervix with every kiss of his hips.
You choked out his name, a chant Lucifer had never wanted to hear before now. How could you make Alastor’s name sound so delicious? He wrapped his fingers around yours on his dick and began moving with you. Your eyes rolled up to him, a weak smile forming before your orgasm made your jaw lock. Alastor knew your body so well, bringing you to orgasm was like playing a well practiced song on the piano. Both required strong and fast fingers and a sense of rhythm.
With a few more deeper, shorter moves Alastor stilled, too. Your knees slid down as your hips sank into the bed.
Lucifer let your hand go limp, swallowing hard. He wasn’t ignorant to the way Alastor smiled at him as he reclined into the headboard, tucking himself back into his pants.
“I have complete faith in you, for once.” Alastor teased Lucifer, hand motioning to your still limp body. His smile seemed to dare Lucifer, challenge him, to keep going even with Alastor’s release sitting pretty in you.
Luci took a deep breath, steadying himself mentally, before pushing the hair from your forehead, “Hey there, kitten. What do ya need?”
With an uncharacteristic hunger in your eyes, you forced your line of sight up to him, “You, Luci.” Visibly shuddering, you sat up and brought your legs towards him, your knees touching each other in an odd display of shyness. Your hand felt at your entrance, Alastor’s seed just beginning to find its way from your relaxed walls.
“Is it okay?” You asked, spreading the thick fluid between your fingers in front of Luci.
Something between a grimace and a pout came over him, it wasn’t his ideal situation but the idea of — just how much he’d slip and slide between your folds with the added lubrication made him feel feral. He wasn’t stupid, he knew Alastor hoped to ruin you and sour his experience. He decided to not allow it.
With a kiss to his nose, you wrapped your arms around his neck and lied back. You weren’t sure you were breathing anymore when you felt his scorching head slot up with your entrance. He rubbed the leaking fluid over himself and you with swipes up and down your lips. The difference between his heat and the cooled cum made him shiver in turn.
As he began to press into you, your body instinctively scooted away. It took both of your hands hooked under his arms to stay still enough for him to make any real headway.
Luci stopped, your face clearly pained. Your head shook in response, “Please, you just have to keep going. I’ll adjust.” While both of his heads swelled with pride – Alastor’s cock clearly smaller – Luci didn’t notice the wild eyes of the radio demon.
Alastor brought a hand to his face, red eyes peering between his spread fingers, smile threatening to break at the seams as he watched Lucifer Morningstar fucking his cum into his darling doe.
What a pitiful sight. How humiliating.
What would Charlie think of her big bad daddy? What would the other sins say? If they could see their king now, slick and shiny?
Your nails cut into his skin, and you were sure you were tearing slightly. Instead of attempting to thrust his way in, he chose to just continually press. The way your body seemed to be splitting made you second guess your decisions. But when his head finally popped in, your hole got some reprieve. He stopped, taking deep breaths.
Tears were collecting on your waterline, Luci noticed and leaned on an elbow to wipe them away. His blonde hair was falling forward now, tickling at your forehead.
You nodded, answering a question he didn’t ask, and he continued to force your walls open to accommodate him. The only sound in the room was the soft instrumental jazz number playing from atop the dresser. Your voice was stuck in your throat, Luci was focusing too hard to form words. Alastor could speak, but the music was just too enjoyable to interrupt.
Finally, after what could have been two minutes or twenty, you felt Luci bottom out. You had to just lie there for a second, never having felt something so solid in your otherwise soft body. No slight to Alastor, who was perfectly skilled in his abilities. Luci was just—- more than you had expected.
As he pulled out, you thanked the heavens and hell and the rings within that Alastor had left you so wet and already softened. The first few thrusts were genuinely uncomfortable, the pleasure you felt almost entirely mental, drawn from the reality of who was pulling your insides back and forth. You were so tight around him that he too was almost pained; so much pressure but no way to move enough to get any release.
Slowly, the ring of your entrance relented and Luci could finally move at a normal pace. He would take himself out to his head before slipping back in. Every thrust made your body spread around him, a semi-truck through a field of sunflowers. Your body didn’t stand a chance, and you were grateful he chose gentleness for his entrance.
He leaned back on both hands, using the position to fucked up into you at an angle. He knew very well where to hit to begin gathering your pleasure.
Alastor dropped his head, yours between his legs. His hair made a short curtain, hiding the look he was giving you from Luci. He adores the faces you make when you are happy. Excited. Pleasured. You tried to offer him a smile, but you couldn’t manage it for long. Your eyes would wretch shut, lips tighten as you focused on the feeling Luci was providing. Focused on the sensations, of being so full, so wet, so wanted. But Alastor was still watching, the sight of Luci blocked from his view as he enjoyed every little twitch of your mouth, every whimper.
It wasn’t jealousy, it was something more personal that stung Luci. While he couldn’t actually discern the looks you two gave each other, Luci felt very much the odd man out. But, he considered his position. Literally. He was leaning as far from your body as he could. He remembered the way you said Alastor’s name. Alastor had showed him exactly what to do, albeit in his usual obnoxious, showy fashion.
Sitting up, Luci adjusted your legs and slotted himself between them. Alastor leaned back, relinquishing your focus. Both of you looked at Luci though as one of his hands came to enclose your throat.
Alastor was almost impressed. Almost. You brought both hands to wrap around his wrist, glancing to Alastor behind you.
The words came out of Alastor as half warning, half instruction, “If she needs you to stop, she’ll tap two fingers twice on you, wherever she can reach.” Lucifer nodded, eyes not meeting Alastor’s. He kept them on your face, watching for any sign of distress as he tightened his grip. The way your pussy clenched around him earned you a hiss.
He began to move again, the new position causing him to rub against your clit as he buried himself in you. More clenching; He tightened his grip more.
“Are you sure she isn’t hurting?” Luci asked, your eyes closed and nails digging into his wrists.
“Nonsense. Can’t you feel her? Or does she just grip me like that?” The cocky expression made Luci unconsciously clench his fist on your neck. A gentle tap tap snapped him back to you. He loosened up again, his eyes large and apologetic.
You tightened your own grip on his dick, grinding up into him for more friction. Your body had finally relaxed, pleasure freely flowing from where you and Luci tangled together. You closed your eyes, the pressure constant on the veins to your head. Blood flow restricted just enough to lower your oxygen levels and raise the nitrogen oxide in your body. It resulted in a dizzying feeling, maybe there was a primal panic that caused your body to feel heightened pleasure. You didn’t feel scared, or in danger. You felt —— ah there it was. You felt weak. You felt docile. You felt like you existed purely to give pleasure and the idea turned you on. In every day life you’d never allow someone to use you, to push you around. You were anything but subservient. That’s why it was so enthralling now. It was so strange a sensation. And to give yourself so fully to the king of hell, the originator of all sin? You groaned, head rolling back.
Luci watched your head loll, drank in your groans and gasps and felt himself get dizzy too. More. Say his name like you did Alastor’s. Praise how well he fucked you. Reward him. Love him.
He pulled out suddenly, his head leaving you for the first time since it managed to fit in initially. Luci put both hands on your hips and directed you to roll onto your stomach. He pulled your ass up, knees bent. You crawled up enough to rest your forehead on the crook of Alastor’s leg, one lazily outstretched and the other bent under him slightly. Luci wasted no time pushing back in. He leaned over you and pressed his hand into your back, forcing your chest to be slightly crushed into the bed. He pulled out and slammed back into you, tearing a yelp from you as he hit deeper than he had before.
He stopped, unsure, until he felt your hand reach under yourself and rest at the junction of his knee and calf. His other hand came to your right hip, and he used it to keep you from sliding up the bed. Letting his eyes close again, he focused on the feeling of you around him. His crotch and thighs were soaking wet, his balls tight against him. Every drag out of you made his body jerk back into you with need. It felt so good, too good. He needed more. He pressed hard into you, oversized tip of his cock threatening to push past your cervix. He made shorter thrusts now, ensuring he bottomed out every time. It was too deep, too much of a stretch. Your moans slowly devolved into screams, the pleasure mixed with a soft burning.
You could feel him spreading open your womb. The feeling of your cunt pressing down on him from all sides including the front was driving him mad.
You were screaming. Actual, pleasured screams, threatening to alert the entire hotel to your activities. Screams that started shrill and dipped into a gutteral cry filled the room with every thrust of Lucifer’s frenzied hips.
A tiny part of your brain felt embarrassed, a dying animal shrieking into Alastor’s thigh.
An ever shrinking part of Lucifer existed too, the piece of him too preoccupied with your two fingers on his leg to enjoy you. It got smaller and smaller, no longer a blockade to his pleasure, but a safety net allowing him to walk the tightrope of sadism.
The radio’s volume dial rolled, smooth jazz now blaring and drowning out your painfully pleasured cries. Alastor was fine with allowing someone to take care of your needs at his permission but strangers had no business enjoying your sounds.
As Luci became lost in the sensation of your wet pussy trying to suck him in whole, his hand on your back began to press down. Your breaths got shorter, it got harder to expand your lungs fully.
Face turned and drooling onto the fabric of Alastor’s pants, you started gasping out his name, “Luci! Nngh Luciiii, Lucifer.”
Your lips dropped his name and it fell like lead into his thoughts. He fought the urge to close his eyes again as he felt his orgasm building. He watched your flushed skin jump beneath every punishing thrust, his name a spell you could now barely whisper, not enough breathe to scream. Your upper body was entirely buried into the mattress. It felt like your back might snap with Luci’s loss of control. You kept your hand on his leg, ever ready to tap out.
The yellow of his eyes turned red, just like the skin of your ass where his hip bones chaffed. “You take me so well, kitten.” He ground out, “Daddy’s gonna cum.”
Alastor’s eyes glowed a blood red from the end of the bed, a wickedly devious grin across his face at the opportunity before him, he looked up at Luci and said with a commanding tone, “Cum.”
Luci was already over that peak when his eyes flew up to catch Alastor’s, it was too late to stop his orgasm. He was helpless to disobey, despite his now desperate desire to never cum again. With a moan, and a hiss, he pressed your body fully into the mattress. Your body now flush, he waited until his cock stopped jerking his long overdue seed into your bruised womb.
Luci lied on top of you even after you were full to the brim with his cum. It was already forcing its way out around his softening cock when he managed to roll off of you and onto his back.
Staring at the canopy of the bed, he felt two emotions rise to the surface. First, concern. He turned to you, and you gave a weak thumbs up.
Second, rage.
“What the actual fuck is wrong with you? Fuck you.” He looked to Alastor, who was grinning as he pet your head, whispering something to you.
“Little late for dirty talk, your highness.”
Lucifer growled, but Alastor’s palm pressed against his forehead and pushed him back down to the bed.
“I sleep on the left. I’d prefer you on the right.” he gently moved your head from his lap, “Beside me, my dear. A darling barrier.” Alastor didn’t look at Lucifer, just slid off the bed and walked into the en-suite bathroom. “No outside clothes under the comforter.” Alastor called from the bathroom before the sound of rushing water poured in.
You rolled onto your back, still catching your breath. Body sprawled out on the massive bed like a starfish.
Lucifer turned onto his side, hand caressing your arm. “Are you okay, kitten? I didn’t mean to lose myself like that.” He felt shame, like he had done something terrible. “And— I didn’t help you finish. That’s pretty shitty.”
But it fell away when you smiled back at him, “I feel great. Sore, but great all the same.” You let your fingers clumsily lace with his. “I really like you, Luci. And I don’t need to cum to enjoy myself. You can always try again, ya know?”
Lucifer felt his face grow warm, but couldn’t press you to clarify what exactly that meant before Alastor scooped you up and carried you to the bath.
There was a moment where he was alone, noticing the radio was back to a tolerable volume, the water splashing softly out of view. He felt out of place, like he had accidentally walked into a stranger’s home. He wasn’t sure what to do next, where to go from there when Alastor’s head popped back into the room, annoyed, “Are you coming or not? Those are clean sheets.”
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hello ! i loved ur hcs for ghost x innocent reader sm, what do you think of könig x innocent reader? love ur writing ♡
König w/ an Innocent S/O
Warnings: Implications of Smut, Overprotective König, Rizzed-Out König, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.
There is nothing König won’t do for you.
Your overall calm, kind demeanour brings him peace he’s never known before.
And because of that – because he adores you beyond measure – he can get very…protective.
He often treats you as more fragile than you actually are.
Horror film playing in the background while you’re talking ? It’s getting switched off.
A picture of someone exposing a shoulder in a swimsuit catalogue? It’s getting thrown into a fire.
A pair of your own underwear left unattended next to the wash bin? König’s stuffing it into the bottom of the basket.
There comes a point where you have to tell him that, yes, while you may be a little naïve, even a bit oblivious, you’re not stupid.
And, as best he can, König treats you as you want to be treated, which is to say not as if you are a nigh-extinct species of flower.
And, given this new ‘power’ as such – this permission to show you the less rounded edges of life – König begins to have some rather self-serving ideas.
Regardless of if you like horror films or not, König will use it against you.
He’ll test your stomach for terror, putting something frightening on whenever you’re having date night to see if you’ll cling to him.
And if you do, irrespective of whether you fear what’s happening on-screen or not, his soul will ascend.
He can die happy when you hold on to him, nuzzling into his side while quietly asking him to “Hold me, Köni. Please.”
Makes him feel all big and important.
Wear his clothes around him, my God–
First time he saw you in his hoodie – after an impromptu visit from the Rain God made your original outfit unusable – he literally did a double-take.
He dropped the plate he was washing, grasped at it as it slipped between his soap-frothed fingers.
He just punched it into the sink, heard something crack, and turned his attention to you. And only you.
“I– You–” König couldn’t even form a full sentence as you stared at him, half-peeking from behind the door.
“You look…” He racked every file, folder and confine of his mind for anything to describe how he felt right now, how you made him feel.
It just came out as a strangled noise. And, smiling, you hurried into his arms.
You didn’t mind that they were soapy and wet. And neither did König.
Though, the only reason he didn’t was because his brain was so positively fried that he quite literally could think of nothing else except you.
The longer you’ve been dating, the more comfortable König becomes with being rougher with you, shall we say.
It all starts when you start doing things you never did before.
Like letting your hands slip lower beneath his waist, resting on his hips; Sitting on his lap when there are no other spaces available – and then eventually when there are seats available; saying his name like that – “Köni,” when you need help.
“I just can’t do it all by myself. I need someone big and strong to do it for me.”
And, regardless of how sincere you sound when you say it, regardless of how you bat your eyelashes and plump your lips when you look up at him, König is far too whipped to say no.
At first, König genuinely doesn’t think you’re doing it intentionally.
And neither do you, until you see the effect it has on him.
Making his cheeks flush and a pillow find its way to his lap when he sits on the sofa, your head placed precariously close to the growing issue between his legs.
Now, König isn’t the type to go throwing accusations around.
But when he catches you wearing his favourite hoodie, balancing on the edge of the kitchen counter to reach something placed on top of the cabinets (and I don’t mean the top shelf; I mean on TOP of the cabinets – like when you’re hiding a Christmas gift), your underwear peeking just below the hem, he can’t take it.
He knows what you’re doing.
And now that you’ve let onto him, with your doe eyes and your exasperated “Köni, I need you–” he’s gone. Snapped.
Just because you’re “innocent” doesn’t mean you’re exempt from König’s wrath.
To put it plainly, König didn’t seem so shy or frightful of damaging that night as he pinned you to the wall and took you for the first time <3
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist
Masterlist [Continued]
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#konig mw2#konig x reader#konig x y/n#konig x you#konig x yn#könig x reader#konig smut#könig call of duty#könig cod#könig fanfiction#konig headcanons#konig call of duty#konig cod#mw2#mw2 fanfic#mw2 fluff#cod mw2#cod mw2 fanfic#mw2 smut#mw2 x reader#mw2 x you#mw2 headcanons#cod x reader
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