#i have nothing in my defense you take this and do what you want with it
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Wait for you Pt.2 | L.N.
Lando Norris x reader
Summary: Nothing can stand between true love. But what if said love is taken from one's memory?
Warnings: angst, fluff:3
Word count: ~4.9K
A/N: Hello hello! I have finally got aroud to finishing this piece! Hope ya'll enjoy it <3
Lando could not concentrate, not for more than a sentence before his mind was once again playing you as his favourite movie.
Your smile, your eyes it all felt too good to be true and lord… the kiss. Lando had to physically restrain himself every time his mind went there. All he wanted was to run out of this room full of people talking about plans for the upcoming race and just run to you.
His skin was itchy and on fire from waiting for your touch. Now that you’ve given him a dose, given him hope, he was hooked with anticipation for more.
After the conference everyone dispersed into their own rooms except for Lando who followed Oscar to his driver’s room.
“Oscar you will not believe what happened!” Lando giggled as he closed the door.
Thus began the recollection of the touching moment on the roof top with you.
“- and then I asked her out and she said yes, and even gave me a kiss on my cheek before I entered the conference room! Can you imagine that Oscar?! She kissed me!” excitement was pooling around Lando’s lower lash line.
Oscar had forgotten what a truly happy Lando looked like and no matter how tired he was now, he did not want to be anywhere but right here on the uncomfortably tough sofa, listening to his friend talk about his love, especially because that love was you.
“Well that sounds like good news mate, where are you gonna take her by the way?” Oscar watched the life drain from Lando’s face as the excitement for the rendezvous converted to pure stress of the situation.
“Oh my God?! Where am I going to take her?!” Lando started pacing around the small room in circles making Oscar feel positively dizzy just from following Lando with his eyes.
“HELP ME OSCAR!” The older male pulled at his own hair out of sheer desperation for someone else’s input.
“Well just take her where you’ve taken her before, it’ll help her jog the memory,” Oscar answered calmly, rubbing his eyes. Lando’s pacing really did make him dizzy.
“Wait, that’s actually a really good idea. She loved our first date, she was never tired from talking about it,” Lando‘s eyes sparkled with the memory of your hands wrapping around his every time you told someone about your first date. Those were the moments when Lando understood just how deeply he felt for you and how you loved him just as much.
“Exactly. Everything is gonna work out, I can feel it,” Oscar laid an encouraging hand on his teammates shoulder. If reassurance was what Lando needed, Oscar will be there to provide.
The next few days at the paddock were filled with shy glances and giggles as the date spurred the two to secure their connection. Your laughter was never ending as so were Lando’s bright smiles. It seemed that every sentence Lando could think of sounded like the funniest joke to your ears.
While Oscar explained their upcoming race schedule to Lando, comically unbeknownst to him, Lando’s eyes were trained only on one person, as for all his attention too.
“What do you think about that Lando?” Oscar looked into the eyes of his friend only to find his point of attention trained behind himself rather than at him.
As he turned to find the culprit of Lando’s attention, he found no one else but you perched on a counter, lit up by the golden evening sun. Lando giggled as you waved at him and lifted his hand to wave back at you, both of your blushes ever-growing.
“Oh c’mon man, we’ve been through this!” Oscar’s eyes rolled back into his skull.
Damn these two love birds. As much as Oscar was thrilled for his friends once again being together the shy-giggly faze is just as annoying as it was a year ago.
You winked at Lando and he almost lost his stance.
“Really?” Oscar signs.
“She’s flirting with me!” Lando became defensive clutching his chest.
“Mate she’s literally your girlfriend…”
“Yeah, but she doesn’t know that,” Lando’s smile never left his face as he watched your eyes focus back on the book that lay rested on your thighs.
In that moment something clicked for Lando. Life is truly as good as it can get. All uncertainty has been washed away by hope. It truly felt like you were healing him with every single glance. Perhaps it was just Lando’s imagination but whenever he met your eyes they were yours, he knew those eyes and for the first time in a long time Lando could let himself cry out of happiness when thinking of you. The clouds have dispersed, with each passing day you remembered more and said things that would make Lando stop in his tracks.
Lando no longer needed to look for you, because you were already there…
The over-packed luggage bag fell out of your hands at the sweet sight of a white fluffy bed. Lord knows you wasted no time jumping into the bed after kicking your shoes off at the door.
“Ughhh, this is heaven,” your voice was muffled by numerous pillows, but Lando still heard it clearly.
“I’m gonna set up my sim here, okay?” He asked, unsure if you wished for him to leave or stay. After all sleep was what you favoured over anything.
“Yeah it’s no problem, you know I don’t mind you being around,” you lifted your head slightly and shot him a smile.
“You’re the best!” Lando smiled in excitement and in a few minutes the desk area of the hotel bedroom became a sim racing corner.
“cute,” you admired the man only loud enough for yourself to hear.
It felt like only a couple seconds had passed before Lando was once again calling your name.
“Y/nnnn, are you sleeping?” His eyes met your half lidded ones. Gosh you looked cute, all sleepy… and so kissable.
“I am now,” you yawned the words out, eyes not yet fully open.
“Good, you better not be sleeping, I need you to see me win this,” his concentration in the game never faltered even with you on his mind.
“Don’t worry I’m awake,” you yawned once again making Lando chuckle. “You know, you could just wake me up when you finish and tell me the result?”
“Nooo,” he whined, “I need you to watch me win. Are you watching me?” He turned back for a second just to make sure you were behind him.
And you were. You were sitting there wrapped in a blanket, eyes big and oh so soft. You were there with him and that was all he ever needed.
You climbed out of the bed and stood behind him, hands in his hair and a kiss on his temple to which he let out a satisfactory sigh. ”You’re going to win Lan, I know you can.”
“I’ll only win if you’re by my side, love.” He crossed the finish line and turned around kissing you deeply before you could even congratulate him. His hands were quick to hook under your thighs, your warm skin tickling his fingers. He picked you up effortlessly, nestling the both of you into the bed that had already soaked up the scent of your floral perfume. It’s the same one he gifted you on your last birthday.
Your hands tangled around him, pulling him closer until you breathe the same air. His eyes were glossy, pupils dilated to a point where you could barely see the storm of green and blue. Your fingertips draged across his soft skin and to his silky curls. He was everywhere and you hoped it always stayed that way.
You’re still drunk on quality sleep when the morning light pulled you out of the peaceful slumber. Your hands instinctively reached out to the other side of the bed ghosting over the empty mattress, “Lan?”
A pout formed on your lips as you found the bed empty and void of any and all warmth.
Suddenly your eyes shot open but then again closed up, pain of the bright lighting residing in your retina.
You turned to your left side. Empty bedside. No Lando.
You felt yourself swimming in confusion. Your memories mixing with moments unseen before.
Was I dreaming? Dreaming of Lando in my bed? Quite puzzling indeed.
But what puzzled you most was that you were in Spain, but Lando was not in your bed.
That revelation, for some unknown reason, did not sit well with you.
Overwhelmed you sat up on the bed, trying so hard to understand why for the love of god you were looking for Lando in your bed.
Why would Lando be here? Why was he in my dream? Was it really a dream?
You got off the bed and started looking for any clues that the dream was not actually a dream but reality.
Although the only thing you found is yourself feeling something for Lando Norris you had not felt before.
Dream or reality? This only served to confuse your heart further.
Your eyes caught the clock on the wall, a clear sign that you should hurry as the slender black arrow was about to meet the number seven.
Today was a free day for the grid. That meant that you were to meet Oscar and Lando in the hotel gym and later head for a complimentary breakfast with the two.
Hanging at the gym with them was not as fun as most imagine. Without their active energy being aimed at making jokes it was easy to get bored since you were not in a mood for a workout.
After walking around for a good five minutes you ran into Alonso.
Ever since you first came to formula 1 Fernando fit right into your life, kind of like a father figure at most times and sometimes as an older and much wiser friend.
For that very reason you were now sat at one of the many leather benches talking the older man’s ear off about everything that had been going left instead of turning out right.
“Every day whenever I’m left alone it just gets so annoying, like I truly have nothing to do, but I have nothing I want to do. Like I’m just trying to sit somewhere and relax but it somehow feels too bland,” a heavy sign exited your lungs making Fernando put down his weights and put all of his attention on you now.
“Take them,” he was clutching a plastic earphone box lightly in his left hand, extending it towards you.
“Don’t you need them?” you lifted your eyes out of curiosity but did not dare take them just yet.
Fernando was quick to brush your question off, “Ech, I don’t like these wireless things, I always loose them.”
Your eyes locked on the case. Do I even like listening to music?
“Don’t worry these are unused, I got them from PR this morning,” he let out a chuckle, unnerved by your silence after being surrounded by your voice for so long.
“Are you sure?” you were uncertain but Fernando thrust the case into your hands and ruffled your hair as you smiled up at the man. “Thank you Fernando.”
“It’s all my pleasure sweetheart, it’s about time you started listening to your music again.”
Fernando walked away before you could inquire him about your taste of music, and how he knew so much about it.
There it was again, that uncomfortable feeling. You felt as if you were behind in class, like everyone knew what was going on and which formula to use for a certain problem, but you did not.
Everyone around you seemed to know things about you before you got to discover them yourself and that did nothing but make you uncomfortable in your own skin.
That is where the spiralling set in.
All of a sudden the world shifted off its natural axes and you were no longer there. Your words seemed to get stuck in your head, your movements too slow and every time you tried to pay attention your mind was engulfed in a thick cloud.
It was all messing you up to further close in on yourself.
Lando noticed. Of course Lando noticed. Even if it was only a week, Lando noticed…
There was one thing Lando actually paid attention to and it was you. But once again his great attraction to you was beginning to pain him, little by little scratching at his heart. With each cold shoulder and weak smile he could feel it, he could feel you moving further from him while he was stationary, just a few steps behind you, nonetheless too far than he’d like to be.
Lando’s eyes drifted around the white ceiling of his driver’s room as he tried to trace his steps back and see what might have caused you to stray from him. Was it something he did? If it was he’d better fix it before it became too late. But what could he have done?
You had the date about three weeks ago, that was fine, great even, and he hadn’t had you so happy and respondent in months. Then there was the free week before Spain which he spent with his family while you went to Australia with Oscar, but you texted and called every single day, most days it was you who initiated the calls and reassured him that he was not keeping you from sleep as the two of you were separated by many, many hours.
Then there was the night you landed in Spain. Lando had waited in the airport for hours, wishing he was the one to take you to the hotel and surprise you with your favourite flowers.
He remembered Spain last year. He could never forget, it was your first time at a race as a couple, the relationship still fresh as a wildflower. Lando was hoping for a win, and he felt he could win with you by his side, like he did the night before on the sim, only because you were there watching him with your soft loving and undeniably sleepy eyes…
He expected to jog your memory with the help of the familiar Spanish scenery however it appeared to blow up right in his face the next day.
He picked you up at the airport and you were happy. Right? Yes. You jumped into his arms, you held his hand and even let a tear escape your eye as you held the flowers close to your chest. On the ride to the hotel you talked so much, excitedly telling him about all kinds of aussie adventures you, Oscar and his girlfriend Lilly got up to. He listened all through them with a pearly smile, even if he had heard the stories before from Oscar, asking you questions while knowing the answers to them only because he knew you’d feel cared for and appreciated if he asked. And to end the short but splendid night you kissed goodnight after he walked you to your room. It was meant to be a thank you for his kindness but the real thank you for him where your eyes.
Your eyes were his weakness since day one.
But the next day your eyes were not your eyes anymore… They were not yours ever since.
Was this it? Is this how life is going to be now? He will work and work to get just a bit of you for you to forget it all the next day.
He had heard about such a thing from doctors how some amnesia patients have clear sky days when they become who they were before but even a slight factor can alter that and not an hour later they can forget all that happened before.
Does this mean you will never remember him?
What if you never love him again…
“Lan get up you muppet we have a race starting in 20,” Oscar yanked the older boy awake from his daydream and watched him return to reality. “Everything okay mate?” he observed the tired eyes of his friend.
“Yeah… let’s go.” Lando trained his gaze away from Oscar and left the room first. As much as he needed to talk about you now, he just couldn’t do it, not to Oscar, not again…
Your fingers mindlessly wrapped around your ring pulling it on and off constantly before your skin started burning, but that didn’t stop your behaviour.
Thanks to your mind running faster than an F1 car you’ve figured out a few things this week.
First. You liked Lando Norris. And that’s great.
But dreaming about him being your boyfriend? Now that’s a bit too much.
Second. You liked music. More than you initially thought you did.
Third. You liked cornflowers. The blue ones.
You didn’t know that before. You couldn’t really think of a flower you liked before…
Fourth. You had no idea who you were.
There it was again, that unshakable feeling out of alignment. Like the whole world had tilted and you were no longer on the same axis as before. Was it only a few degrees off but you felt worlds apart from the days before.
Your heart was racing again, lungs refusing to take in the oxygen, though it was all around. It was easy and natural to breathe, something no one needed to think about to control, it just happened and for some reason you were once again stuck unable to control your own self, just as you were unable to calm your pounding head.
You entered the garage where Oscar and Lando stood listening to one of their engineers explaining something to them animatedly. The earbuds in your ears were almost unnoticeable, even with the melodic tune, until you made eye contact with Lando’s clear blues did the familiar tune follow.
But I knew you,
Dancin' in your Levi's,
Drunk under a streetlight,
I knew you.
All of a sudden it hit you quite literally like a truck full of bricks. And the world completely swung off its axis.
The memories spun as a wind whirl in front of your eyes.
It played like a movie.
Your eyes filled with tears before you could turn away and leave the crowded space. Too confused and much too overwhelmed with what you’ve just remembered.
There was Lando, and he was everywhere. He was holding your hands and he was kissing you and he was sleeping in your bed. But you didn’t understand where all of this came from, when just moments ago you were trying to figure out if you even like the man, now you felt such a tremendous pull towards him, it scared you.
Lando had watched your small smile fade into a look of confusion and your eyes filled with tears. Your last look was it. Eyebrows pulled together, eyes glossy. Something he had not seen in months now. Your whole face was contoured with memories of you two together. And he could see that, he could see it from your eyes, the eyes that recognised him once more, only they were not glistening with love but with salty tears.
She remembered me. She is crying.
Panic ran Lando’s blood cold. He wanted to chase after you but before he could take one step in your direction a firm hand on his shoulder held him back.
Lando looked at the hand before lifting his eyes to meet the concerned eyes of his teammate, “Lando I know what she means to you, but you have a race starting in 5 minutes. We need to get in those cars.”
“But she’s crying Oscar, something is wrong.” Lando’s voice was demanding and rough, if he needed to push Oscar down to get to you he’d do it, no matter how much the thought of hurting his friend displeased him.
Oscar registered the fiery gaze that made home in Lando’s eyes and he did not want to see what followed but he had no thought of letting him go.
“You have to make a choice Lando. It was never going to be easy.”
As much as it hurt Oscar to say those words to his friend, all he wanted was for you and Lando to be together again.
But Oscar saw you this week. And he saw Lando this week. And neither were sights to marvel at.
You were always an extension of Lando and he poured all he had into the girl he loved. But you were different now, and that was changing Lando, although not always in a right way.
By the end of the day if you did not remember loving him and if their labour proved fruitless Lando would have nothing left. No you, no him. For now Lando at least had F1 and Oscar knew that the only thing he could do is help his friend protect his precious job because he had no call in your mind or feelings.
Only a month ago Oscar felt how everything would work out, but maybe working out meant you two finding your happiness apart and not together. Healing separately and moving on from what had passed. As disturbing as that sounded, it looked like the only solution for both of your wellness.
“Boys, cars, now!” a voice boomed, directing them to take their positions.
Oscar and Lando shared one last glance before Lando pulled his helmet back on and settled into his seat.
It’s gonna be a tough race. Oscar thought.
As expected the race was unlike no other this year, 3 crashes, 5 DNF’s all while Lando drove with the concentration of an eagle, his eyes on the road, but your eyes in his mind.
Lando was rethinking everything, he quite literally had the time, almost two hours before he’s allowed out of this car and can finally see you, he needed to be ready for what was to come in the future… or if there was any future for the two of you left.
What if it is the end?
What if you don’t want him anymore?
A couple of tears travelled down his hot cheek and mixed with his sweat. His eyes were burning, his chest was burning but he pushed and pushed himself unafraid to perform a dangerous over-take with the car in front of him. Mere seconds later a loud cheer echoed through his ear.
“P1 LANDO! YOU ARE THE WINNER LANDO!”
“I won?” He repeated while finishing the cool-down lap, complete disbelief soaking his words.
As soon as he stepped out of the car it was all cheering and flashing lights.
I need you to watch me win. Are you watching me? His own voice resonated through his ears, the memory of your eyes before him.
That was the last thread before he broke down crying next to his car.
Everyone cheered even louder. They thought he was facing the high of his life while he felt like rotting in hell.
He needed you to see him when he won. Now he did win, but you were not watching…
He knew you. He knew you so well. When you told him you’d be there, when you kissed his cheek, when you watched the night sky with him, when you held his hand. He knew you’d come back to him. He knew he’d get to hold your hand again and watch you smile all thanks to his wit.
Only he did not know it would be temporary…
Air got caught in Lando’s throat, it was suffocating being encaged within the helmet.
While Lando stood on the podium accepting his award not once did he look down at the crowd before him. Keeping his eyes on the trophy or the other men sharing the podium with him.
But never down, never to the left corner where from the side of his eye he could see that cluster of bright papaya, never to the very front of that gate, never to where you were supposed to be standing.
Because inside he knew that you were not there, but if he never looked back there then there will be no confirmation, so the theoretical possibility that you might just be there was all he could get and he would hold on to it for dear life.
If he never looked down, he could just let himself imagine that you were there, watching him win…
“See boy, you can’t win everything, but when your time comes, you get all that you want. And Lando, you very well deserve this,” it was Fernando tapping the younger boy on the shoulder, expressing his congratulations.
yeah… I won a race but I lost my love.
Sadness encapsulated his heart and the last thing he wanted now was to pretend to celebrate a long awaited win. Before anyone could get their hands on him he disappeared to his driver’s room.
He opened the door and locked it behind himself. He needed to be alone now.
“Lando,” your soft voice greeted him.
“I knew you,” your eyes were ablaze, “I don’t know how or where it came from, but I knew you and I loved you.” You tried your best to calmly express all feelings that came crashing down on you mere hours ago.
“Loved?” Lando breathed under his nose, he was shattered beyond repair as your declaration made him take in a large gulp of air. Lando could feel himself getting mad. This is so fucking unfair.
“You’re so mean.” He slumped down on the couch, his eyes directed away from you.
“What? Lando I’m trying to-“, you stepped closer to him, instantly regretting that decision.
“AND YOU DON‘T THINK I AM?! I’ve been trying for months now, all alone, while you wanted nothing to do with me. You didn’t even know me, while I had to live around you, still in love with you. It’s so unfair, SO FUCKING UNFAIR ALL OF THIS!”, his hands waved with inner rage. He knew he wasn’t mad at you, it was not your fault, but he was mad at something and he needed to let that out. He needed you to finally know how he felt.
“Lando I am sorry, I-“, you tried to interrupt before Lando completely broke.
“IT’S SO UNFAIR THAT YOU WEREN’T THERE, YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO WATCH ME. SURE YOU DON’T REMEMBER, BUT I DO, I REMEMBER, YOU PROMISED ME YOU’D WATCH ME WIN! AND YOU DIDN’T! YOU LIED!” With each word his voice became louder and louder, he was letting his emotions out for once, tired of holding them in for the sake of everyone else but himself.
“I know Lando! And I did watch you,” you tried to keep your mind levelled and let him let his frustrations out.
“NO, NO YOU DIDN’T, YOU RAN OUT BEFORE THE RACE COULD EVEN START, Y/N I SAW YOU!”
“I. WATCHED. YOU.” You’re the one to raise your voice now, getting close to his face. You needed to show him that you could hear him.
“We were here in Spain a year ago and you were sim racing before the race, you told me to watch you race, because you wanted me to see you win and you did win. But when we woke up the next day I had caught a cold and could not watch you race out on the circuit. You lost and you were crushed. I know Lando. I was there. And I am here now, only this time I was here too, I watched you race and I watched you win.” Your own voice glazed in assertiveness just to make him listen.
Lando’s eyes were in tears, his hands in tight fists unable to understand how something like this could have happened. All of these emotions crashing down on him, he didn’t know what to do, he did not know how to react, he was lost.
Your gentle touch worked to unwrap his tight grip and relax him before placing his palms on your tear stained cheeks.
You’d show him a way, the way you always had.
“I remember Lando. I remember everything. I am so sorry. I’m so sorry for leaving you alone for so long. I’m sorry it took me so long to come back to you. But we can fix this we can work on this together right?” you pleaded with your eyes, attentively searching his own for an answer.
Lando’s first instinct was to pull you into a crushing hug, breathing you in like you were his oxygen.
Lando finally felt at home. It was and always would be your touch, your presence that could ground him.
“You came back to me. I will do everything to keep you close, Y/n,” He whispered into your neck, the hot air tickling your skin making you giggle.
“You came back,” he held you even tighter and your hands were just as firm grasping him.
“I‘ll never leave you again,” you ran your hands through his soaked curls, letting the memories of your life before take over each one of your cells and fill you, “I’m sorry for taking so long my love,”
“Don’t be.” Lando broke the hug so he could look into your eyes again.
Now he saw his true prize. It was your eyes, your rosy cheeks, your glistening lips. You were back and you still loved him,“ I’d always wait for you.”
^^
Tags: @goldsbitch @cmleitora @mickslover @darleneslane @queenofmanydreams @ujws5
#lando norris#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris x reader fluff#lando norris x reader imagine#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 imagine#mclaren formula 1#mclaren#ln4 x reader#ln4#ln4 imagine#ln4 fluff#lando norris angst#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fanfic#f1#lando norris fic#f1 x reader#angst with a happy ending#light angst
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jartylus microfic?
for my genius anon about reg getting turned on while watching barty & james get together and to @messymoony for convincing me that i should, in fact, write this. here we are. nsfw: voyeur regulus, sub james, spanking, 1,424 words
“Come on, Barty,” Regulus huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t get soft now. He likes it. Don’t you, Jamie?”
“Mhmm, mm,” James agrees, muffled around the feeling of Barty’s fingers in his mouth.
At some point, James had relinquished control. He doesn’t know when or how it happened, but it did. And now, he’s on his knees in front of Barty Crouch Jr., all while Barty explores the wet cavern of his mouth. He’s leaking steadily against his boxers, straining against the material. There’s part of James that wants to fight back, bite down on Barty’s fingers to make him hiss, but the masochistic fuck would probably moan at the sensation.
Instead, James keeps his jaw slack, gaze upward as Barty presses down on his tongue, saliva pooling around his fingers.
“He does look rather pathetic for it, doesn’t he?” Barty muses, pulling his fingers from James’ mouth. They tug down James’ lower lip, only for it to snap back into place.
“‘M not—” James tries to speak, but Regulus cuts him off with, “Baby, let him take care of you. Stop fighting it, yeah? I can’t bear to keep up with the tension between the two of you.”
James puffs out his chest defensively. There’s most definitely not any tension between him and Barty. James hates Barty, and Barty hates James.
Apparently, none of that matters because Barty’s already pulling his cock out from his pants, giving it a few slow strokes. As if all the gods in the world are against him, James’ mouth waters at the sight, focus locking in with the precum sitting all shiny on the head of his cock.
“Now, are you going to be a good boy, James?” Regulus asks, cocking his head to the side. His fingers are playing a dangerous game with the waistband of his trousers. Hell, James wouldn’t blame Regulus for wanting to touch himself right now because whatever it is that Barty’s doing, it’s undeniably hot, James’ skin prickling with want.
“Yes,” James finally whispers, gaze flickering between Regulus and Barty.
“Good boy,” Barty praises with a grin, tapping his cheek lightly with his free hand.
James almost jerks away, but surprisingly, he finds himself leaning into the touch, swaying on his knees as he eyes greedily at Barty’s cock. Slick tip begging for a tongue—James’ tongue. James swallows, throat bobbing, and without so much as a single word, James opens his mouth, staring expectantly at Barty.
“Good god,” Barty snorts, rubbing the head of his cock over James’ lips, getting them all shiny with precum.
“He loves having his mouth full. Sucks the strap like a champ. Go on,” Regulus urges, slipping his hand below the waistband of his pants. “Let him have a taste.”
“What if,” Barty considers, just slipping the tip of cock against James’ tongue. “I just want to fuck him. Fill him up nice and good.”
Regulus shrugs, then nods. “He’ll take anything you give. Won’t you, James?”
All sense flies out the window when James laps hungrily at the head of Barty’s cock, a delicious moan escaping from the back of his throat. But Regulus is right, James will, unfortunately, take anything he’s given. Even if it means he doesn’t get the luxury of sucking Barty off until he’s coming down James’ throat.
Next thing James knows, he’s being manhandled onto the bed, face pushed down into the mattress, his ass up in the air. He’s exposed, hole clenching around nothing. But he’s desperate, arching his back more to push his hips back, and Barty just chuckles, low and breathy, as he slaps James’ ass. The sound of skin against skin echoing through the air.
James makes a keening noise, squeezing his eyes shut when he feels Barty spit over his hole, circling the pad of his finger over the mess. Willingly, James finds himself opening to Barty, practically sucking his finger into tight heat.
“Eager, aren’t we, baby?” Barty teases, fucking the spit into James with his finger.
“Hey,” Regulus says, and James has no idea what is happening until he hears something hit Barty’s palm and the distinct sound of a cap popping open. Cool liquid drips over his hole and around Barty’s finger.
The thing about Barty is that he doesn’t give two fucks about anything. He doesn’t waste any time or draw it out. Barty Crouch Jr. fucks like he’s on a mission: a mission to destroy James Potter even if it’s the last thing he does.
Therefore, there’s utterly no surprise, maybe aside from the ungodly moan that leaves James’ mouth, when Barty barely takes time to finger James before lining his cock up and slowly pressing forward. It aches, gloriously so. The stretch and burn, and despite himself, James rocks his hips back, whining pitifully.
“Fuckin’ tight,” Barty hisses, bottoming out before slapping James’ ass again.
James buries his face against the sheets, panting into the mattress. Regulus huffs from his position in the corner, undoubtedly stroking over his cunt as he watches Barty fuck James within an inch of his life.
There’s barely any time to adjust before Barty lets loose, fucking James with reckless abandon, with the sole intent of pulling as many sinful noises from the man as possible. It’s dizzying for James, barely able to catch his breath as Barry’s hips snap against his ass.
“B-Barty, fuck,” James curses into the mattress. He kisses his teeth, embarrassed by how good it feels, how rough Barty’s being.
“Reg, baby, doesn’t Jamie look so good right now? Taking my cock so prettily. Do you think he could come just from this?” Barty questions as if he isn’t pounding into James carelessly.
“He can. He has,” Regulus answers breathlessly.
Barty hums, bringing his attention back to James. He leans over James back, changing the angle, and it makes James wail, face hot and sweaty from being shoved against the mattress. It doesn’t get any better, or it does, when Barty grabs the back of James’ head, pushing him further into the soft mattress. James turns into a rabid animal, doing everything in his power to push his hips back, desperate to draw Barty in deeper.
Barty keeps hitting that spot—over and over. Little specks of light cloud James’ vision, barely able to keep his eyes open. Another slap rings through the room, his ass cheek jiggling beneath the force. From the corner, Regulus squeaks, and James can just make out the slight flush on Regulus’ cheeks, hand staying still in his pants.
“Gonna be a good boy and come for me?” Barty murmurs into James’ ear just as he gives a particularly hard thrust, and James loses it.
He doesn’t even see it coming, until he’s already releasing thick ropes of white onto the sheets beneath him, eyes rolling to the back of his head. He doesn’t even feel when Barty moves back, no longer crowding his space. James only comes to when he feels a splash of warmth against his puffy hole. He gasps when a finger drags through the mess, and the surprise only continues when the finger is brought around to his lips, Barty giving him a gentle, “Open up.”
James obeys, parting his lips to allow Barty’s finger to enter his mouth. He’s thorough, sucking the cum right off Barty’s finger like it’s his last meal. An embarrassing breathy moan comes from James, his cheeks flushed and hair a downright mess.
From the corner, Regulus speaks, “Look at you. Behaving so well. Don’t you think this solved all your problems, hm?”
There’s a waver in his voice, and James knows Regulus is beyond turned on at the point. And James is so far gone, all he can think about is getting his mouth on his boyfriend’s cunt before he withers away into nothingness.
Even in James' wrecked state, he can’t deny the satiety he’s feeling. The dull ache in his bones, brought on by the person he’s supposed to hate. Hate courses through his veins no longer, it simply can’t, not when Barty delivered in the way he did.
“Reggie asked you a question. Are you going to answer, or did I fuck you stupid?” Barty taunts, brushing the hair off James’ forehead.
Thing is, James does feel stupid. Completely and utterly stupid, foolish—an imbecile. But he can’t be bothered to care. So, he admits, albeit weakly, “No more problems. ‘M good—we’re good.”
Barty cackles, slapping James’ ass once more for good measure. And James? He sure hopes this isn’t the last time.
#james potter#barty crouch jr#regulus black#jartylus#james x regulus x barty#the marauders#for my sweet anon <3#mar tag#jartylus microfic#han’s microfics
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Someone asked me to write Lucifer's take on "Bitch what's for dinner?!" Soooo...
First, Lucifer saying it to you.
He sees it somewhere online and at first is like, "this is dumb" but then he thinks about it. He knows his relationship with Lillith was rocky but he'd never once raised a hand or voice to her, but he's The Devil from The Bilble, so he has a reputation, undeserved or not. He wants to see how safe you feel with him and make sure you don't have like, an ingrained response to take treatment like that, and he's too awkward to just talk about your relationship like a normal person.
Honestly thinks you've probably already seen the video and that you'll laugh it off or playfully smack him ans then you guys can talk. So when he storms into the kitchen at the Hotel, pretending to have just gotten into an argument with Alastor, and snaps at you, his horns growing a bit, "Bitch, what's for dinner?!" He's not expecting you to look shell-shocked.
He thinks its because that was so out of character for him and you're just stunned but then you just quietly look down and respond "grilled cheese?", like you're expecting him to reprimand you the whole act goes out the window. He's in your space, not touching you yet, and babbling apologies, practically on his knees. Eventually you catch on that he was joking and hug him and ask him please not to do that again.
He agrees immediately and follows it up with, "Of course! And, lovely, darling, light of my life, if I, or anyone, ever talks to you like that, you better smack the shit out of them. Or, like if it's someone else, I'll knock their ass out. Seriously, don't ever let me treat you like that."
You do it to Lucifer.
You saw the video online and thought it would be funny. After all, there's no way the KING OF HELL would take that. You set your phone up to record secretly and brace for some sort of sassy response, slamming your hand down on the counter next to him for dramatic effect.
"Bitch, what's for dinner!?"
Lucifer's wings pop out, ruffled, defensive, hissing like a cat, long forked tongue dripping fire. Once he realizes it's you, he blinks, frowns, and makes himself small.
"Uh...I...I can make grilled cheese? Are you mad at me? Did I forget a date? Was I rude to you on accident? What did I do, I can fix it."
Oh, oh no. You're crumpled. This poor man. You're holding him, petting his ruffled wings, apologizing through tears because of course he didn't do anything wrong. You tell him it was a dumb internet trend, that you didn't think about how it could upset him, you're so sorry and won't do it again and eventually he calms down and kind of laughs it off. It was an honest mistake.
You don't let it go so easily, and cup his cheeks, forcing him to meet your eyes. "Don't you ever let anyone talk to you like that, not even me. Anyone talks to you like, you better smite the fuck out of them. Full fire and brimstone. Nothing left. Dust. Ash. Obliterated. Understand?"
He thinks it a bit excessive of a response, especially if you're including yourself, but he agrees anyway, practically swooning at your protectiveness.
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*Backflips into your ask box* DONT WORRY I WASNT ACTUALLY FALLING DPWN OR UP THE STAIRS but at this point you probably already know what I’m gonna say! I’d like to see how the other dorms, like Pomfiore would react to 1950s reader 🤭 I imagine rook and Vil would be quite happy to see how fashion was back then
"He found a new favorite lmfao"
Summary: Vil and Rook officially loves you as his model. Forget Epel, He picked you up from the streets and kept you /hj
Ft. Pomefiore Boys
A/n: *Opens ask box and npc jumps* omg hi again, oh whats that? Pomefiore?? *brings out draft folders* HERE I ALREADY HAVE IT 😊 *smacks with the post*
Ahem, Yeah here. This is Pomefiore yall, My favorite dorm. YOU CAN TELL WHY ITS MY FAVORITE DORM VILS THERE. I genuinely want to be his favorite wth
! do not repost or translate my works anywhere. do not copy or use my works in any site, Reblogs are appreciated alot though !
You were the expert with self defense. In your time, You would always slap or smack the heck out of all the kidnappers. But on the other hand, You were also a sweetheart, someone that loves doing makeup. Someone that really... Hates getting stalked by a horse.
What can you do? Hit the horse? Tell your parents? Yeah, You tried telling your parents and they checked from afar saying there's nothing there. You look back to see and nothing was really there. Are you getting haunted?
The only way is to approach it carefully to see its true intentions. On your way to your friend's house, you see the horse again. You recognize that carriage, the horse staring into your soul, and the slow walking.
You slowly approach it. It doesn't move away or anything, You think it's a good sign. As you get closer to it, You take an apple out of your pocket, softly handing it one.
The horse was looking at it for a moment before taking a bite of the apple. You really thought it was actually nice? Never believe anyone or anything out the window.
The horse knocks you out with its head, and you end up waking up is such a hassle, hearing weird voice whispers, your eyes blurred but you see some things floating. Once you open your eyes, you turn back to see a monster-
Wait, That doesn't look like a monster. That's a cat! When the cat turns around, flaming cat? Huh?!
You panic, what kind of- You get up and back away from the flaming cat, and you run out of the room.
At this point you don't know where you're going.
Just run as fast as you could.
You can hear it screaming and chasing after you. What do you do?-- Kick it?! That's called animal abuse.. Is it for a good reason? Is getting chased down a good reason?
Oh whatever, just keep running. You stop at a library, running around. That is until you bumped into a man. You have absolutely no idea what could happen to you right now, You ask him millions of questions. Questions that he may be unable to answer as he was more confused.
He wasn't angry or anything, he just took you in this room with seven more people in the same clothes as you. However, A red haired and one with glasses left the room to escort that flaming cat that chased you around.
"Mx. [Name], Meet the Housewardens." Crowley points at them. You tilt your head to the side, what the actual gardening is a housewarden??
"Uh- I'm not a housewarden." Lilia raises his hand up. "Just here cus' Malleus isn't." He adds. "And I was only forced to go.. Because of an emergency that doesn't even look like an emergency.." Idia mumbles, covering himself with the hood.
"Whatever. Anyways, This poor student is very confused, and it's stressing me out. This headmage is generous, only to receive such stress.."
"So Dramatic, He could fit in perfectly with my next film." Vil whispers. Lilia looks at you, inspecting your makeup and your hairstyle. Feels like he's seen those before.. Oh, And those accessories? That's what he gifted Malleus on his birthday more than 50 years ago.
Weren't those jewelries already gone in the 60s? How come you still have them? Ah dear.. It's probably just from a grandparent. He needs to stop making these theories. "My, My, what beautiful fashion you have there." Vil speaks up, breaking the awkward silence in the room.
"Oh, Uh.. Thank you! It's actually trending these days." You smile. "Trending??" Idia asks himself. He does not know what trending you mean by that, but whatever it is he knows from the internet that Vil's makeup is the trending one. "Okay, I'm getting reaaal confused here.." Idia mutters.
"That's my issue, Mr. Shroud." Crowley lets out a frustrated sigh. "Okay- You all aren't obviously useful, So I'll just handle this." Vil shoos everyone and walks closer to you. He puts a hand infront of you, asking for a handshake. "Vil Schoenheit." He introduces himself.
You accept the handshake. "Nice to meet you." You smile. "See? It's just that easy. No need to treat them like a lost sheep." Vil turns to all of them. "So- You're gonna help me?" Crowley asks. Vil just rolls his eyes. "Yes. If anything, I know you aren't gonna do anything,"
"So I suggest you should just go." He looks at you, completely happy. "I'd be happy to help you answer all your questions. Let us go back to my dorm, and clear everything out of the way."
Finally, Someone helpful. You thought to yourself. "Thank you." You bow your head. "It's not a problem, My dear."
Everyone's gone back to their dorms, And you followed Vil in a magical mirror. But before he entered, he lookd at you. "Do not be afraid, just enter the mirror." He walks in the mirror. "Okay.. Don't be afraid. Don't... Be- AFRAID-"
You rush in the mirror, Safely entering, You look up. Woah! "Is this your house?" You ask him, and he just laughs. "Oh, No, This is the dorm."
Ohhh... You hum lightly and follow him all the way inside. "Rook! We have someone you might like!" Vil shouts, And Rook just comes out of nowhere. "Yes, Roi du po- Oh my! Bonjour!" He waves at you.
You wave back, yet it was a bit awkward. "That's Rook, And Rook, This is [Name]."
"Such a beautiful name for a beautiful person!"
Vil walks up to a couch and sits, patting beside him. "Rook, go get us tea."
While Rook was gone, Vil clears his throat. "So, On our way to the dorms, Lilia was talking to me about you, So I'm just testing if he was really true about that." Lilia?? Who's that? You wonder. "Uh, Sure?"
"What year do you think you're in right now?" Huh? What kind of question was that? "Erm, 1957?" You answered truthfully. Vil was quiet. You thought you said something wrong. Were you supposed to say something else? "I see, Seems like Lilia was right about his guesses."
"What do you mean?" You ask him. Seriously, You're so confused. "How do I say this.. Well, would you believe me if I said you aren't in 1957?" You freeze in your spot. "Pardon?-"
"You aren't in the 50s." He directly replies. "But don't be afraid. Must be because your fate should've been in the modern, so the horse picked you up from the past and took you here."
Is he smart? Looks like it, But do you believe him? Also yes. If he mentioned about the horse without you mentioning it first, then he must be telling the truth, that's just how you tell if it's the truth or the lie.
"Ah yes.. The horse- I- Uh, Does it knock you out like that?" You ask. "It knocked you out?" You nod, crossing your arms. "Mhm, I was feeding it an apple thinking the reason why it kept following me was because it was hungry, but knocked me out a few seconds later."
"Strange, It's supposed to just wait as you enter. That's.. A pretty violent way to help you enter." Vil chuckles lightly. "Well I'd call it kidnapping if I was supposed to enter with no explanation." You add. Vil hums, placing his leg over his other leg.
"Interesting. The 50s makeup looks very Interesting." He points at your face. Rook comes back. "Here is the tea, Roi du Poison."
Vil takes the cups of tea, giving one to you. "Thank you Rook, Sit down. I have unbelievable news about them." Vil takes a sip of his tea, And Rook sits down beside you, taking his cup of tea from the table.
"Do you believe in the rumours about the horse taking people from the past due to the fate's decision?"
"Yes." Rook answers, He looks at Vil, Who was gesturing you with his eyes. It took him a while to understand, but when he did. "Ohh.. What?! They came from-"
"1957." You cut Rook off. "But something to add in the rumour, The horse knocks them out instead of waiting for them to enter." You watch the two interact. You wanna laugh at the way Rook has his jaw down, does he really just not believe the knocking out part?
"No. Way." Rook sips from his cup. "Yes way." Vil sets his cup on the table. "My, That explains the beautiful style you have." Rook observes you more. "Haha.. It's just- 50s makeup."
"It looks amazing." Vil chuckles, then stops after having an idea in mind. "Actually, I want you to wear what you all used to wear. You may use my wardrobe, I have tons of clothes that you might take as your liking."
"That's.. Not a bad idea, Roi du Poison! Amazing thinking as usual!"
"I know right~" Vil flips his hair, His hair is a bit short, but how on earth did he manage to flip it like how long haired people would? "I don't see any trouble with that." Your eyes sparkle. You're obsessed with fashion, so seeing how people dress these days can also help you, but you have to dress up like how people in your time would in return, of course.
"What the actual heck- I MEAN- What is this." Epel appears inside the lounge. He just wanted to get his textbook.. Not bump into Vil! God.. "Oh yes, Right. This is Epel!" Rook points at him.
"Epel should really learn better from [Name]."
"WHO EVEN IS THAT??" Epel looks at Vil, Then his eyes focuses to you. "Ohhh, It's them?" Epel nods. "Alright. Cool.." He mumbles before leaving the lounge. You tilt your head confusedly. "Sorry, Epel is just.. Bad mannered. He needs to learn to stop using defense."
Oh. Damn. "Uh.." You awkwardly hum. "What is it, What's the matter?" Vil asks you. "It's just that.. He.. Isn't the only one that uses defense?" You whisper.
"I uh, Also use defense.." You can hear the silence grow, Should you say something else? "B-but it's not for anything bad, no! Back in my place in that time, There's just alot of kidnappers. So I learned self defense." You think about it again. Was that a good reason?
"Well, That's a good reason to use it. But he just uses it for fun." Vil shrugs. You and Rook automatically look at each other and showing each other eye gestures that you surprisingly understood.
"Well, Let's just go try out the little fashion show idea-" Rook stands up, as you laugh nervously and also stand up. Vil sighs. "Why, Of course, How could I forget that." He smiles softly.
The three of you head to Vil's room, still talking about how things are in your time. While you all talk, Epel watches you all from afar with other Pomefiore students. "Wow." A pomefiore student whispers.
"He found a new favorite, Lmfao." Another Pomefiore student says. Epel jumps in victory. "I'M FREE! WE'RE FREE! HE'LL FINALLY STOP NAGGING US TO BE WELL-MANNERED!"
"YAHOOO!!"
...
"Do you both hear that?" You ask Vil and Rook. "Ignore that." Rook adds, shoving you in Vil's room before he enters and closes the door.
Author's End Note: Yall actually didn't change in the same room, You guys just went to grab some clothes to try in the dressing room. 💀 VIL, ROOK AND YOU AS HEATHERS??? Epel as Veronica HAHAHAH "do you have a problem???" Srsly tho, You Three being a gossip trio.
! do not repost or translate my works anywhere. do not copy or use my works in any site, Reblogs are appreciated alot though !
#twisted wonderland#disney twst#gn reader#twst#vil schoenheit#twst vil#twisted wonderland vil#rook hunt#twst rook#twisted wonderland rook#epel felmier#twst epel#twisted wonderland epel
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Thank youuu, maayybbee a comforting headcanons about your choice of Creepypasta with a reader who is like uh like really really tired in all sort of ways that they won’t cooperate in anything, mind being so nice to give them a whole slideshow of their messed up childhood and
Y’know just a really fucked out reader
Sorry if it’s y’know too much or anything, you can do it whenever you want!
-🐰
I love writing comfort scenarios <33
Credits to divider goes to saradika-graphics! Go follow them and support their works
Thank you so much for requesting!!
Ticci Toby
He understands that sometimes, everything is too much and your brain just kind of shuts down
But he is also a very anxious person
So when he sees you laying in bed, the exact same position you were in when he left in the morning, he gets a little concerned
Have you moved at all? Have you eaten? Drank anything? Taken a shower?
But he respects your privacy and doesn't ask you about it, assuming maybe you just wanted a lazy day to yourself
So he brings his dinner up to you that night, sharing just in case this is in fact the first you've eaten all day
And when you continue this behavior the next day, he begins to panic
The other creeps know something's up too, or at least, E.J does, because once Toby gets home E.J approaches him about it
"Hey, I asked y/n to clean the equipment they used in the gym last time and they just said no. They also seemed pretty lethargic, barely moving or breathing at all. Nothing to worry about right now, but it is concerning."
And with that, he walks off, seemingly not even wanting an answer, just wanting to give Toby a heads up
So once again, Toby goes to your room once again, seeing that you still haven't moved
"You haven't moved." He says
"Mhm" you respond absently, scrolling on your phone
"Have you eaten today?" He asks, beginning to get nervous
"Mhm" you respond once more, though it's not a real response it's just one to make him happy
"Um. EJ said you didn't want to clean the gym equipment you used?" He fidgets with his fingers now, picking at the dry skin
"Mhm" Is the only thing you say, and the only thing you're going to say he realizes
So he comes to sit on the bed next to you, moving some of your hair out of your face (if you have any, if you don't he rubs your back) "Are you ok? You can talk to me, you know? I love you"
This seems to trigger something in you, because instantly a flood of tears happens
This startles him, but he continues to comfort you nonetheless
He pulls you up and drapes your arms over his shoulders, while his go around your body, rubbing your back and head
He doesn't talk because he doesn't want to overwhelm you, so he silently rubs you and kisses you until your sobs turn into sniffles
"Let me take care of you tomorrow?" He asks, pulling away to look into your eyes
You pull him back into the hug and nod "please"
Jeff The Killer
Jeff doesn't really know how to deal with his own emotions, let alone someone else's
So when he sees you in a funk, he decides to just leave you alone and let you deal with it yourself, because he doesn't trust himself enough to actually help instead of hurt
But this of course, it seen as him leaving you in your time of need from your perspective
So this only makes matters worse, causing you to snap at others for small things, like when Toby accidentally bumps into you while you are on the way to get another snack
He of course, apologizes profusely, but it just isn't your day so you yell at him and tell him to be more careful next time
When Jeff gets home, Toby is talking about the incident with another creep
Not in a malicious way, but in a concerned way
This peaks Jeff's interest "What are you saying about my partner over there??"
"I'm just worried is all. They totally blew up after I accidentally bumped into them" Toby says, putting his hands up defensively
Jeff scoffs and rolls his eyes, already tired of the mood you're in
So he goes up to your room and walks in angrily saying "Why are you being such a dick? What'd Toby ever do to you?"
You don't feel like arguing, so you snuggle further into your bed
He laughs at this "Seriously? You're gonna ignore me? Listen dude, I don't know who you think you are but I really don't like this fucking color on you. Fix your attitude before I fix it for you" And with that he slams your door
Next day, you bump into each other in one of the hallways, and he tries to talk to you obviously seeing you still upset, but you push past him
Or at least try to
He quickly catches you and pins you against a wall "Just listen to me, won't you?!" he yells
This is all too much for you, so you begin to cry, bowing your head so maybe he won't see it
He softens at this, loosening his grip and looking at you confusedly "Why....why are you crying?"
"Why are you being so mean to me??" You ask as you sob
He sighs and brings you into a tight hug "Ok.....Ok tell me how long you've been upset"
"A long time!" You say truthfully "It's not even about Toby!"
"Why didn't you say anything??" He asks, cradling your head against his shoulder
You grip onto his chest and try to catch your breath before talking "Because you left and I thought you didn't want to see me!" You whine in a fast, high pitched voice
Despite this, he seems to catch every word "No, baby, baby....I always wanna see you I just didn't wanna hurt you...." He whispers into your head
"But you did!" You say into his shoulder
"I know....I'm sorry" He rubs your back a bit before kissing your head
"....really?" you sniffle
"Yeah" He pulls away and lifts your head to kiss your forehead, before pulling you back into the hug
You are quiet for a while, standing in the hallway and holding each other before you finally break the silence "it did feel good to cry"
He snorts and pulls away "Well I'm glad you liked it, because now I have snot and spit all over my hoodie"
You smile and kiss his nose "You love it"
Ben Drowned
Barely moving himself, he probably won't notice for a little bit
But when he does, he just assumes you're in a lazy mood, So he tries to snuggle up with you in bed
You flip over, avoiding his touch which makes him raise an eyebrow "Hey, you ok? It's cool if you just wanna be alone but this isn't like you"
"I'm fine" you say quickly
"....oookay.....do you want me to leave you alone?" He asks, his face changing from confused to concerned
You don't answer for a long while, but when you finally do you say "no"
"ok" he says simply, staying to his own side of the bed while he plays video games
Eventually, you begin to cry softly, and you flip back over to snuggle into his chest, wrapping your arms and legs around him like a koala
He looks at you for a moment before putting the game aside for a second and petting your head "I thought you said you were ok?"
You shake your head and cling harder
"Alright, c'mere" he says, pulling you up into his lap and putting your head in the crook of his neck
You try to hide your face away in his shoulder, but he grabs your chin before you get the chance "Hold still, I wanna kiss you" he says
With this, he kisses anywhere he can reach, eventually letting you drop your head back onto his shoulder while he grabs onto your arm and kisses from your shoulder all the way down to the tips of your fingers
Once he is done, he looks down at you, seeing that you are now only sniffling he uses a knuckle to wipe away any remaining tears "now are you ok?"
You nod and wrap your arms around his neck, kissing his cheek "Good. I like seeing you happy"
He then pecks your lips and hands you another controller, so that you can play the previously discarded game together
#🐰 anon#creepypasta#slender mansion#creepypasta x y/n#creepypasta x you#creepypasta x female reader#jeff the killer#jeffery woods#ticci toby#ticci toby x reader#jeff the killer x reader#jeff the killer headcanons#jeff the killer creepypasta#jeff woods#jeff the killer x you#ticci toby x you#ticcy toby#ticci toby x y/n#ben drowned x y/n#ben drowned x you#ben drowned headcanons#ben drowned creepypasta#ben drowned x reader#ben drowned
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pre-serum steve fic recs
this rec list is a fill for the "pre-serum steve" square on my @steverogersbingo - it got long so the fics are below the cut ♡
the categories: *drumroll please...*
what steve's packing
modern non-powered AUs
historical AUs
steve isn't cap but tony is iron man
tony time-traveling to the forties and sexing up steve
medkink
omegaverse
❤️ what steve's packing:
Good Things, Small Packages by @ashes0909
Steve had a small cock and Tony was absolutely mad for it.
Packing Heat by @kandisheek
Tony always notices Steve Rogers, even when he's all but disappearing into the wallpaper at a party. It's time he does something about that.
Such a Softer Sin by @gotthesilver
Tony gets to his feet and steps between Steve’s legs. Running a hand up Steve’s neck, along his sharp jawline, Tony leans down and kisses him deeply, pouring all his feelings into the kiss until he can feel Steve relaxing. “I am so gone on you,” Tony says when he breaks away. “Whatever people have said to you before, whatever idiots made you feel this way, they’re not me. And I’m a goddamn genius, Steve, so trust me when I say, you’re gorgeous.”
❤️ modern non-powered AUs:
Your Reputation Precedes You by @vanilla-shoes
Tony agrees to watch the desk for the salon next door to his garage as a favor -- but when he meets the salon owner's fiery best friend Steve, maybe the favor is for Tony after all...
and you look so divine by @elcorhamletlive
Tony blinks a few times, seeming startled. “That’s – I mean, don’t me wrong, that’s great to hear. But, uh – Steve? That.... Kind of sounds like you think I’m dating you despite your looks.”
Steve just stares.
Tony’s eyes are wider than ever when he opens his mouth to talk: “Holy shit."
In Hindsight by @elcorhamletlive
Tony Stark knows very well how he screwed things up with Steve Rogers. He remembers it. Perfectly.
...Doesn't he?
sweet like honey by @elcorhamletlive
Steve wakes up in his boyfriend's Malibu mansion. However, Tony is nowhere to be found.
A fair match by @elcorhamletlive
Of course, Steve thinks. Of all the people in the world to get in trouble with, Steve had to do it with Tony Stark’s friend.
-
Steve gets himself in trouble - nothing new. He ends up arm wrestling with the most famous guy on campus, Tony Stark. That's definitely new, and it doesn't go exactly as he expects it.
i'll take care of you by @elcorhamletlive
“Hi.”
Steve blinks. The sound of loud thunder roars outside, but he doesn’t jolt, too focused on the image in front of him to be startled by the noise.
He has no idea what to say, and he isn’t sure if the shock is because of Tony’s absolutely sodden state – his hair glued to his forehead, his clothes dripping with water, forming a small puddle in front of Steve’s door – or because he wasn’t expecting to see Tony for at least three more days.
“Hi?” he says, a little tentative, before his brain catches up to reality. In his defense, he was getting ready to sleep when Tony knocked. He looks at what Tony is holding – a wet mess that seems to have been a flower bouquet at some point. “What are you doing here?”
❤️ historical AUs:
A Pirate's Life For Me by @bladeofthenebula27
When Steve joined the Avenger as the Cabin Boy, he knew being a pirate would be tough. He just never expected his duties would include warming the Captain's bed.
might be something by @stardating
Mingling with the upper class was not something one just did. Good thing Steve had no intention of just ‘mingling’. Not if he had anything to say about it.
a smudge of charcoal by @stardating
It was alright. It wasn’t like he didn’t need the stability. It wasn’t like he didn’t pour his heart and soul and last pennies into those paintings. Then Steve ran into someone and it was like the day wanted to get worse.
❤️ steve isn't cap but tony is iron man (from the series Art is Long and Life is Short):
Throw a Little Hot Rod Red in There by @festiveferret @sirsapling
Tony Stark was pretty sure that the absolute worst time to get asked out by an incredibly talented, good-looking artist, who likes to paint - and defend - Iron Man, is when he's dying of palladium poisoning.
Patience by @festiveferret @sirsapling
Try as he might, Steve just couldn't seem to paint the arc reactor quite right. And it was driving him crazy.
Some Form of Electricity by @festiveferret @sirsapling
Steve doesn’t know what he’d do without Tony, and thank god he has him, because after getting the phone call that Bucky’s alive, everything is a blur. But Tony gets him there, all the way to Germany. It isn’t until he’s watching his friend lie motionless in a hospital bed that it really hits him.
Bucky is coming home, and he’s coming home broken.
❤️ tony time-traveling to the forties and sexing up steve:
some days, you're the only thing i know by starkaspbrak
“He was right.” Tony whispers as he stares at Steve with what he could describe as affectionate.
“Who was?”
“My fiancé.”
“About what?”
There's a sparkle in his eyes as he responds, a soft smile on his lips, “That you’d still love me no matter what.”
Transient by @royal-chandler
There’s a 1A classification sitting on Steve’s bureau in his bedroom and he’s been so sick in his life, sick of many things; he’d like to no longer be sick of not having sex.
Like Whiskey on Cold Mornings by greyduckgreygoose
Tony/skinny!Steve porn
❤️ medkink:
ART for - Fever, Breathe Your Love on Me commissioned by Right_in_the_feels
I commissioned the wonderful Buukkin to create art for blue_jack's wonderful medical kink story Fever, Breathe Your Love on Me
A Cure for Every Ailment by @kandisheek
Doctor Stark is testing his new experimental treatment for erectile dysfunction on a group of volunteers. It works very well on Steve Rogers. Just not for the reason Tony thinks.
Or: Tony doesn't realize that sounding is a kink, and Steve never knew he had it.
Throckmorton Sign by MusicalKestrel
Steve has been having some very worrisome symptoms, even for someone with as many medical problems as he has. When he visits the ED, he finally gets some answers and the help he didn't even know he was looking for.
Delusion by LenkaVittoriaElisse16
Steve is scheduled for his annual PE, and the physician in charge is his boyfriend: the handsome Dr. Anthony Stark.
❤️ omegaverse:
Once or Twice by @festiveferret
It'd been flattering, at first, when Tony Stark - Iron Man, of all people - had shown Steve some attention, but it had become obvious pretty quickly that Tony was teasing him like all the other alphas at SHIELD did. Tony always pestered him every time he came to the SHIELD offices, harassing him for not having work done for ops that hadn't even been fully debriefed yet. He hung around Steve's desk and wanted to go over every tiny detail on every report which just meant that Steve's next reports were even later.
It was hard enough working his way up to Senior Strategy Analysis as an omega, and it was hard enough being around the unbonded alphas in the office who liked towering over his tiny frame, sneaking sniffs and smacking his ass as he walked through the breakroom. But Tony's relentless campaign of driving him crazy had made things even harder. Steve had even considered being transferred off the Avengers Initiative team, but he'd worked so hard to get there and he wouldn't let some knot-head bug him into quitting.
Two-Point Perspective by @festiveferret
Dear omega,
Congratulations! You've been selected. Alpha #95847872 has been assigned as your pre-bondee. A group bonding ceremony will take place on the 14th, unless other arrangements have been made by your alpha or their family. A valid bonding license must be submitted to Omega Services within 45 days of this letter or all services will be cancelled and any transferable benefits will not be applied to your alpha's package.
If there is some reason why you cannot be bonded on this date, please apply for an extension by calling 1-800-555-6827 within 7 days of receiving this letter.
Sincerely,
National Omega Services
Stealing Your Heart by @bladeofthenebula27
Steve's had his eye on the Alpha he wants for a long time and tonight's the night he finally gets to go out and take him for his own.
Slut Era by @bladeofthenebula27
Tony never meant to become the campus bicycle but since that was apparently what was expected of him he figured it was easier just to lean into it.
He just never expected Steve Rogers would ever want to take a ride.
Peep Show by @bladeofthenebula27
“Alright there, Sugar?” A voice came from behind him and he whipped around to see an omega with a little box of tokens. “You know you got to put one in to start right?”
Steve felt his face heat. “Yes ma’am. I was just uhh—“
“First timer?” He nodded and she gave him an encouraging smile. “Well, don’t worry, there’s glass behind the curtain, so the omegas can’t bite.” Then she winked. “That costs extra.”
Steve’s face got even hotter. He certainly wasn’t doing that.
Steve knew he wasn't any omega's first choice, or hell, even third. But what starts as a visit to a seedy Peep Show in Manhattan ends up changing his life for good.
Marked You Mine by @avengersnewb
Omega!Steve and Alpha!Tony go undercover as a bonded couple for a mission. As it turns out faking a bond has some unexpected (mostly pleasant) side effects.
Clothes Make the Man by @fiftyshadesofstony
When Tony's status as the alpha in Steve's life is challenged, Steve sets out to show him how much he likes the idea of being Tony's omega. (PWP featuring Brock Rumlow being an asshole and some sexy shirts!)
In Tribute by @ms-meredith-milton
Tony Stark is an Alpha and Crown Prince of Manottan.
Steven--son of Roger, son of Grant--is a sickly omega and a nobody, even in his home of Brooklyne castle. He just wants to serve his country.
Things kind of go from there.
Small by My_Soul_and_Perfume
It had only taken him until the age of five to begin believing his father’s words, and he has repeated this mantra to himself for years in this very same spot. Yet, he had never grown desensitized to them. Words weren’t like the colors of sweaters. They wouldn’t fade away.
#there is so little else i love more than the fact that 'tony time traveling to the forties to sex up pre-serum steve' is a category#god bless us everyone#stony#stevetony#fic rec#*#steve rogers bingo#no serum steve
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Ellis Twilight~ Main Route Chapter 4 Premium Avatar Challenge
Disclaimer for route warnings | Masterlist
Additional Content Warnings: Ellis' sprite at the beginning is a bit unsettling
This a fan translation so it is definitely not 100% accurate. I do not own anything related to Ikemen Villains. Support Cybird by buying their amazing stories!
Ellis: “How happy are you right now?”
I answered the question posed to me from the twilit-light with a big smile.
Kate: “I feel like my life could end right now!”
Ellis: “…I see.”
Ellis: “Then, how about I end it?”
(Eh…?)
Suddenly, cold ripples spread across my dreamy heart, as if a drop of darkness had fallen.
(End it…)
(My life?... He’s kidding, right?)
I couldn’t tell from the tone of his voice whether he was joking or serious, so I tried to focus on Ellis’ expression.
However, his face was obscured by the illumination of the setting sun and I couldn’t see it.
The strange feeling I had the night when we met came back to me.
It was as if the person who was laughing next to me just moments ago was a different person than the one in front of me—I had a strange feeling in my chest.
Kate: “Ellis…?”
At that moment, the sun completely set behind the building and the light suddenly disappeared—
Ellis: “mm?”
Ellis and I were swallowed up by the same shadow.
Then, I finally was able to see his expression.
Ellis: “…Kate? Is something wrong?”
(Oh it’s… it’s Ellis as usual.)
Ellis was smiling the same smile I knew.
Kate: “Hehe… please don’t make such a joke all of a sudden. I was shocked.”
Kate: “Right now, I’m so happy I don’t care if my life ends…”
Kate: “But tomorrow might be happier, so it’s okay.”
Ellis: “…I see.”
Kate: “I should return to the castle to properly report on my first mission.”
Kate: “Also, I have to thank you, Ellis, for making me so happy.”
Ellis: “Me?”
Kate: “Please tell me about what you like, Ellis. Then I can make you happy tomorrow.”
Ellis: “…”
Ellis’ eyes widened a little in surprise, then he smiled softly.
Ellis: “…Yeah, thanks.”
Ellis: “But Kate, the formal language has come back.”
Kate: “Huh?...Oh, right.”
(Just now, he seemed like a different person… I guess I just got defensive.)
(The reason I felt that way was because I was fooled by the twilight.)
Kate: “So, Um… Can you tell me about what you like, Ellis?”
Ellis: “I like looking for a delicious restaurant… I guess.”
Ellis: “If I know a lot of different shots, I can introduce them to a lot of people and make them happy.”
As I had learned over the last two days, Ellis gave a familiar answer.
(I guess I could say it seems like Ellis, but…)
Kate: “Is there something you do to make yourself happy, regardless of other people’s happiness?”
Ellis: “—No.”
(Eh…)
He didn’t seem to think or hesitate even for a moment.
Ellis: “What I want to do is help others.”
Kate: “Right, okay…”
He stated it clearly and I nodded, even though I was confused.
Considering his actions, it was a natural response.
(But—Is there nothing he wants to do for himself, not for anyone else…)
Perhaps something happened that made him want to be of service to others so strongly.
(If we stay together like this, maybe someday you’ll tell me.)
(If that day comes, I’ll be happy.)
Anyway… What I want to do now is thank Ellis for taking me to the play I wanted to see.
Kate: “So, what’s your favorite food?”
Ellis: “I’ll eat anything… but I especially like buttery toast and cranberry jam.”
Kate: “Hehe, I like that too. I’ll make a note of it.”
Ellis: “Oh, and I also liked the baguettes from the shop you had recommended, Kate.”
(Ellis likes toast with lots of butter, and cranberry jam.)
(And the baguette from the shop I recommended… huh?)
Kate: “Ellis… did you just answer in a way that would make it easier for me to thank you?”
Ellis: “I didn’t…. It’s all true.”
Ellis: “I was happy when you told me earlier that you wanted to make me happy.”
Ellis was smiling as if to reassure me.
The last light of day is sucked into the horizon, and the light of the street lamps emerges from the gloom.
Even the beguiling remnants of the twilight sky were completely swallowed by darkness.
(For some reason, it suddenly got dark.)
My anxiety grew as the darkness approached, and I walked a little faster.
Ellis: “…”
Suddenly, slender, supple fingertips touched my hand.
Kate: “Ellis…?”
Ellis: “We’re lovers who have proven our love, so let’s hold hands and go home.”
Kate: “Lovers?”
(That’s right…)
Kate: “…like from Bill’s show, right?”
Ellis: “Exactly.”
The fingertips that touched me entwined with my hand, wrapping around me as if to protect me from the darkness of the night.
Ellis: “If you don’t like it, please let me know… But if you don’t mind, I’d like to keep connected like this.”
Kate: “…Why?”
Ellis: “So that you won’t get anxious.”
The way Ellis held my hand was gentle, almost soothing.
Just a moment ago, during the show, he reassured me when I was anxious.
Ellis: “…You don’t like it?”
Kate: “Uh…”
There’s no way I wouldn’t be happy about the kindness shown just for me.
(I can’t imagine not liking something like this.)
Kate: “No… it’s okay.”
Ellis: “Hmm, good.”
The warmth of our connected hands felt so good that my heart began beating fast.
Ellis: “I thought this earlier today too, but your hands are so small, Kate.”
Kate: “Is that so? Maybe your hands are just big.”
Ellis: “I see, I’m big.”
The innocent conversation was somehow funny and laughter naturally flowed between us.
(…it’s strange.)
(When I’m with Ellis, my heart races but I also feel at peace.)
Kate: “I should have asked you sooner about the things you like, Ellis?”
Ellis: “Why?”
Kate: “If I had gone shopping while the store was open, I could have said thank you tomorrow morning.”
Ellis: “… I quite like holding hands with you.”
Kate: “Huh…?”
Ellis: “As a thank you, this might be fine.”
My grip tightened, and my heartbeat became faster again.
Kate: “I don’t think it’s enough to thank you… for the theater tickets…”
Ellis: “Really? I don’t think so.”
Ellis: “… You don’t have to be in such a hurry.”
Ellis: “There’s still time until the promised month is up.”
Ellis: “Me too… I’ll do my best to make you even happier.”
Whispers like sweet, sweet jam and the warmth of palms pressed together.
I walked down the street at night with thoughts like that filling my head.
Leaving behind the memories of twilight.
Next Chapter
#ikemen villains#ikevil#ikemen villains translation#ikevil translation#ellis twilight#ikevil ellis#ikevil ellis twilight#ikemen villains ellis#ikemen villains ellis twilight#ellis twilight main route
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I'm kinda curious why you don't like catradora? Is it just not your thing or do you have reasons? Just kinda curious as I almost always only see the "they were enemies! And that makes it too toxic!" But I saw you like catra/glimmer so yeah, just curious as someone who personally likes it but also hasn't watched the show in ages
Thank you for your question
Yeah, I do hate it, mb not its fans (or at least not all of them, cuz most of them are actually super annoying, but anyways) tho. Also sorry for my bad English
As for the reasons, there are actually many reasons:
Starting with, like you said
1. Being toxic. But the difference with Glitra is that in their way It's not like Catra abuses Glimmer, no, they hate each other mutually, there ia no "abuser x victim" dynamic, bc they hurt each other mutually. Also there are no manipulations, guilt-trips, gaslighting and etc, they are completely honest with each other. While with Adora, their dynamic is rather "abuser x victim" than "enemies to lovers" bc Adora never wanted to hurt Catra, she was always only ensuring what Catra's doing and saying. Adora was always holding back, never tried to kill Catra or make her feel like nothing or hate herself and all her fights were litterally either self-defense or defense of her friends or other people who were attacked by Catra. While Catra always tried to hurt Adora, both mentally and physically, tried to kill her many times, tried to make her hate herself and etc, etc. She was the reason why Adora had such a strong hero complex and always wanted to sacrafice herself. Adora litterally had panic attacks bc of Catra. And the whole "it was a war" argument doesn't work here bc being a war criminal doesn't make Catra any better and bc Catra was toxic to Adora even when they were on the same side. She was always jealous, controlling, possesive and didn't want Adora to have other friends. She wanted Adora to belong to her, which was shown many times. Also she physically hurt her many times, gaslighted her and etc. So their relationship would be much more abusive than Glitra relationship. And what makes it even worse is that Catra has learnt all her abusive traits from SW - recognized Adora's abuser. Catra litterally copies everything the main abuser who has traumatized Adora in the forefront does, which is actually creepy af too. Even she tortures Adora in s4 she says that she took the idea from SW. So she just takes the abuse she (and Adora) has been throught and intentionally uses it against Adora
Even if you have a kink for abusive ship, you should write them well and not put them in a kid show, normalizing abuse by this. There are examples of good enemies to lovers in kid shows which aren't abusive and It's fine (like Dipper/Pacifica, Talon/Penny, Bubblegum/Marcelin kinda, Amaya and Janai (It's good and It's wlw too), even Glimmadora would work since they were enemies too and etc).
2. The whole being "basically adoptive sisters" thing. They aren't actual sisters, but they were actually implied to be so. I won’t even mention every time the CREW referred to them this way (however, there were many times), but the main problem is that their whole relationship is fully based on the "Skapegoat & Golden child" dynamic. And SW is a mother figure who loves one child and hates the other one, who always tries to earn her love and jealous and hate the favourite child. Some people say SW was just a teacher and not a mom figure, but it would be a lie at least bc 1. The crew has stated SW as a mother figure, so It's canon anyways 2. It was said by Adora that SW was like a mother to her 3. You don't try to earn your teacher's LOVE like Catra does 4. The whole thing that SW sees herself in Catra and wanted fulfil her ambitions throught Adora. Also SW wasn't a mother figure for other cadets, it wasn't actually her duty to teach Lonnie, Kyle, Rogelio and others. She was a right hand, not a teacher and she was there only for Adora bc she decided so and for Catra bc Adora wanted so. So, even if you're trying to ignore it, It's a huge part of the plot and a base of their relationship. Oddly enough, but many catradora shippers actually love to admit that "SW was a bad abusive mother", "Catra & Adora have mommy issues", "Adora is a favourite child" and etc, yet when you point it out, they start denying it. I find it strange.
Another thing is subjective, just my personal vision, but I highly dislike all "childhood friends" ships (mb with exceptions if they always actually had feelings for each other, but in catradora case we find out about it only later, especially from Adora's perspectice). Also there is a biological theory that if kids know each other since the age under 6, they see each other as siblings anyways, especially if they grow up together in the same house, especially with the sams parent figure. So, even tho it's subjective, It's an important reason to ms. And I actually did thought of them so and thought everyone does untill I joined the fandom. So even if I don't recognize "see each other as siblings" thing when it comes to usual friends who haven't been grown up together, I do with those who have. Flr example, Renora. This ship was always weird to me and when they become canon, it didn't make me love it. I don't think It's problematic, but it absolutely does make me feel uncomfortable. Like, if you haven't developed your feelings for each other for during these 10 years you were together, where are the feelings suppose to come from later?
But yeah, childhood friends thing is my subjective reason
3. Catra's redemption arc was horrible. And redemption arc is one of the most important things when it comes to enemies-to-lovers, since It's the thing that suppose to help them become canon. Everyone immidiatly has to forgive Catra and no one calls Catra out for what she has done. Even Glimmer, who's mom was killed bc of Catra or Adora who has been abused by Catra for years. And so Catra doesn't even actually changes. She just swaps sides and immidiatly becomes Adora's gf. That's the problem. If you write enemies-to-lovers, do it well
4. The whole way the shis was handled. It just doesn't make sense and completely ruins the whole development of almost all characters. Adora's development is getting destroyed and she just comes back to s1 Adora. Her whole arc was about stopping blaming herself for Catra's actions, separating from her abusers and getting a life. But she just ends up forgiving Catra and considering Catra a victim of herself. And starts blaming herself for "leaving" Catra again. They just forget everything they've been throught. And what about Catra? Catra was obsessed the whole time. She hated Adora and liked hurting her. Catra was litterally addictive to Adora. It wasn't love, it was possesion. And giving an addict a drug isn't a way to go. Catra should separated from Adora, learn how to live without the idea of being "either with her, or againt her". That's why I think her leaving the Horde with Scorpia and going to a Crimson waste would be the best happy ending for her. She would get a life, get what she wanted (being loved), what she needed and what she deserved and let her issues go. So they just aren't good for each other. Having Adora around was always hurting Catra, Catra never was able to fully show herself when Adora was with her in the Horde and she even saya that Adora leaving gave her a chance to fulfil her actual potential, so Adora leaving was the best thing happened to her. Even if Catra wasn't fully agree with her own words, it was basically truth, bc Catra actually did feel bad bc of Adora when they were together (it wasn't Adora's fault, but still). Catra was always blaming Adora for her problems and didn't stop even in s5. So It was bad not only for Adora, but for Catra as well
Also Adora never even loved Catra before. If Catra's possesion can be called love at some point, it doesn't work this way with Adora. Yeah, Adora cared about Catra as a friend, but DT was right, Adora didn't need Catra. She didn't have such big problems with letting Catra go. After s1 she forgot Catra and never recalled her as a friend, only as an enemy. So her whole "I love you too" thing just came out of nowhere and was a lie. Just like "I never hated her" bc Adora did and it was shown. Adora got new friends who care about her and getting Catra was absolutely unnecessary for her. It doesn't work even as a Stockholm Syndrome or a trauma bond, bc it was never shown and Adora got a development
Actually, if it did make sense, mb I would like it, but unfortunately it really doesn't and only ruines everything the show has been building for years, which is sad, cuz I used to love both Catra and Adora
It's also strange to me how shippers compare catradora to so many actually good wlw couples like Korrasami, Harlivy, Caitvy, Lumity, Bumbleby, Chaggie and etc, while in reality their relationship is much closer to Tauradonna (which is actually hated by Bumbleby shippers, which is ironic) and Citrus and actually Shin Soukoku and Simon/Grace, or even some actual/ almost actual siblings like Vi/Jinx, Zuko/Azula, Rapunzel/Cassandra, Claudia/Soren, Qrow/Raven, Maki/Mai, Nightwing/Red hood, Thor/Loki, White queen/ Red queen and etc.
But I would prefer to compare it to Shin Soukoku tho
So, these are the main reasons. Actually I don't understand why can't catradora shippers just admit that their ship is problematic and enjoy it as it is, bc it doesn't really make sense to just make ship a full ooc and make it romantic and sweet to like it, bc it litterally goes against the whole point and everything it always has been. So I have a big respect for those shippers who do admit the problems and enjoy it without lying to themselves and gaslighting others tbh
Anyways, thanks for a question, it was actually interesting to answer it and you can feel free to asnwer, desagree or agree, Im not a hater or smth
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it's after midnight, I can post it
#i have thoughts y'know#tell him he is a good boy#this was very self-indulgent#i have nothing in my defense you take this and do what you want with it#also giving him a little toof is my new favorite thing in the world#cardinal copia#papa emeritus iv#the band ghost#my art#dracopia#should i tag as kinky?#it's kinda kinky#🙈
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You guys need to stop apologizing for having alternative feelings about something, I'm serious.
#you also need to stop being so quick snap or vague defensive#i can *assure* you that no one who is using their logical brain takes offense#if you like or dislike changes or choices made#if you like or dislike a direction something is going in#remember that tastes in aesthetics is purely superficial - in the end it doesn't matter#the only time you need to be careful is when you're delving into sensitive topics and then you *do* need to understand#what you're saying and who you're saying it to#because 'opinion' no longer flies there#other than that? love or hate the new looks all you want - i can assure you no one's mind is changing#from what they think unless they make the conscious effort to do so#prefer whatever you want - understand that people will also prefer the opposite and that's okay#you don't have to be defensive unless you're debating or discussing or writing an argumentative paper#be firm be respectful be mindful that's all#extemporize back chat#idk man it makes me a little sad to see when people say 'sorry but-' sorry but nothing#i will tell you what i tell my uni kids: your voice matters so long as you use it to add#like i am rarely serious but i am being serious now#you will find people who agree with you - if you prefer that stay with them#if you prefer critical debate spaces open it up! discuss with others engage in their alternate povs#you have choices and options#i care about your mental well being#and i get it! i used to be like that! apologizing for my existence - bro they're cats it's facepaint and fabric - hate it or love it#all you want#and of course this isn't an excuse either to 'but actually' anyone nor is it an excuse for harm#people have the right to tell you you're wrong if you are causing active harm or hold viewpoints that *can*#i'm not talking about that - i'm talking about stop apologizing for not liking andy's choreography or liking the new makeup#stupid things like that
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okay i am hilarious for being the only kid to take up my moms threat of kicking us out as far as i know like cmon. cmonnnnnnnn.
#personal#not to brag but im bat shit. game plan was go missing for a week.#if this happened a day sooner i would have more than 5 bucks to my name#but not like missing for attention i was just kinda done with my whole family. not missing bc i also said ill still visit dad#but like seriously im still stuck like mom kicked me out and requested my phone what the fuck did anyone think would happen#like i did that and 'fucked off' the grid#thats not fucking off thats doing as i was asked. like oh yeah thats fucking crazy because it was a fucking crazy response to calling out#oh my god i made my argument for when i talk to my mom later#but anyway i am so funny for packing up most my stuff and couch surfing and going off the grid#in my defense alarming true feelings aside i did literally say im not gonna do anything#like i warned everyone hey im gonna be mia bc mom asked for the phone#anyway not a fun event and im pissed im spending my weekend doing this when i was just feeling unwell and wanted to sleep#this in fact the opposite of sleeping and resting#anyway when i talk to my mom later if nothing else its not all talk i guess?#i will most likely be talked into moving back in. my brother already started yesterday but im gonna talk to my mom about like#therapy maybe? but mainly emphasize that she shouldnt say thing she doesnt want#if you kick me out and take the phone shockingly that will will kick me out and no one will have anyway to contact me#if thats what you want thats fine. i have places i can stay and can get a phone plan#but if you want me to live here than dont do that. dont threaten it#i will leave and i will not come back#i dont want to turn this into a shit on my mom fest when i go talk to her but im a fucking adult women getting my moms equivalent of#grounding me for calling out with the hours. i have to negotiate hair cuts and get permission if i want another ear piercing#thats not fucking normal. at all. i pay my rent on time to her and have been doing nothing but helping with dad#almost all my work occurnaces are bc im helping with dad#like a few on me but most#i get shes going through it and she cant understand me calling out but that does not justify this at all.#like i would perfer to stay bc im a sicko but i cannot keep doing this. if she brings up the calling out im gonna tell her it#that it doesnt matte that i called out. frankly speaking. as long as i pay my rent thats all that should matter to her. and even without#that this issue isnt about me calling out this is about you kicking me out#those two? not comparable. in the least. in any world.
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A pro-Palestine Jew on tiktok asked those of us who were raised pro-Israel, what got us to change our minds on Palestine. I made a video to answer (with my voice, not my face), and a few people watched it and found some value in it. I'm putting this here too. I communicate through text better than voice.
So I feel repetitive for saying this at this point, but I grew up in the West Bank settlements. I wrote this post to give an example of the extent to which Palestinians are dehumanized there.
Where I live now, I meet Palestinians in day to day life. Israeli Arab citizens living their lives. In the West Bank, it was nothing like that. Over there, I only saw them through the electric fence, and the hostility between us and Palestinians was tangible.
When you're a child being brought into the situation, you don't experience the context, you don't experience the history, you don't know why they're hostile to you. You just feel "these people hate me, they don't want me to exist." And that bubble was my reality. So when I was taught in school that everything we did was in self defense, that our military is special and uniquely ethical because it's the only defensive military in the world - that made sense to me. It slotted neatly into the reality I knew.
One of the first things to burst the bubble for me was when I spoke to an old Israeli man and he was talking about his trauma from battle. I don't remember what he said, but it hit me wrong. It conflicted with the history as I understood it. So I was a bit desperate to make it make sense again, and I said, "But everything we did was in self defense, right?"
He kinda looked at me, couldn't understand at all why I was upset, and he went, "We destroyed whole villages. Of course we did. It was war, that's what you do."
And that casual "of course" stuck with me. I had to look into it more.
I couldn't look at more accurate history, and not at accounts by Palestinians, I was too primed against these sources to trust them. The community I grew up in had an anti-intellectual element to it where scholars weren't trusted about things like this.
So what really solidified this for me, was seeing Palestinian culture.
Because part of the story that Israel tells us to justify everything, is that Palestinians are not a distinct group of people, they're just Arabs. They belong to the nations around us. They insist on being here because they want to deny us a homeland. The Palestinian identity exists to hurt us. This, because the idea of displacing them and taking over their lands doesn't sound like stealing, if this was never theirs and they're only pretending because they want to deprive us.
But then foods, dances, clothing, embroidery, the Palestinian dialect. These things are history. They don't pop into existence just because you hate Jews and they're trying to move here. How gorgeous is the Palestinian thobe? How stunning is tatreez in general? And when I saw specific patterns belonging to different regions of Palestine?
All of these painted for me a rich shared life of a group of people, and countered the narrative that the Palestininian identity was fabricated to hurt us. It taught me that, whatever we call them, whatever they call themselves, they have a history in this land, they have a right to it, they have a connection to it that we can't override with our own.
I started having conversations with leftist friends. Confronting the fact that the borders of the occupied territories are arbitrary and every Israeli city was taken from them. In one of those conversations, I was encouraged to rethink how I imagine peace.
This also goes back to schooling. Because they drilled into us, we're the ones who want peace, they're the ones who keep fighting, they're just so dedicated to death and killing and they won't leave us alone.
In high school, we had a stadium event with a speaker who was telling us about a person who defected from Hamas, converted to Christianity and became a Shin Bet agent. Pretty sure you can read this in the book "Son of Hamas." A lot of my friends read the book, I didn't read it, I only know what I was told in that lecture. I guess they couldn't risk us missing out on the indoctrination if we chose not to read it.
One of the things they told us was how he thought, we've been fighting with them for so long, Israelis must have a culture around the glorification of violence. And he looked for that in music. He looked for songs about war. And for a while he just couldn't find any, but when he did, he translated it more fully, and he found out the song was about an end to wars. And this, according to the story as I was told it, was one of the things that convinced him. If you know know the current trending Israeli "war anthem," you know this flimsy reasoning doesn't work.
Back then, my friend encouraged me to think more critically about how we as Israelis envision peace, as the absence of resistance. And how self-centered it is. They can be suffering under our occupation, but as long as it doesn't reach us, that's called peace. So of course we want it and they don't.
Unless we're willing to work to change the situation entirely, our calls for peace are just "please stop fighting back against the harm we cause you."
In this video, Shlomo Yitzchak shares how he changed his mind. His story is much more interesting than mine, and he's much more eloquent telling it. He mentions how he was taught to fear Palestinians. An automatic thought, "If I go with you, you'll kill me." I was taught this too. I was taught that, if I'm in a taxi, I should be looking at the driver's name. And if that name is Arab, I should watch the road and the route he's taking, to be prepared in case he wants to take me somewhere to kill me. Just a random person trying to work. For years it stayed a habit, I'd automatically look at the driver's name. Even after knowing that I want to align myself with liberation, justice, and equality. It was a process of unlearning.
On October, not long after the current escalation of violence, I had to take a taxi again. A Jewish driver stopped and told me he'll take me, "so an Arab doesn't get you." Israeli Jews are so comfortable saying things like this to each other. My neighbors discussed a Palestinian employee, with one saying "We should tell him not to come anymore, that we want to hire a Jew." The second answered, "No, he'll say it's discrimination," like it would be so ridiculous of him. And the first just shrugged, "So we don't have to tell him why." They didn't go through with it, but they were so casual about this conversation.
In the Torah, we're told to treat those who are foreign to us well, because we know what it's like to be the foreigner. Fighting back against oppression is the natural human thing to do. We know it because we lived it. And as soon as I looked at things from this angle, it wasn't really a choice of what to support.
#riki babbles#I had this in my drafts for ages and I was like 'not the time' but a friend encouraged me to share so here it is#palestine
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Teacher's Pet
Joel Miller x virgin f!reader
Summary: 25 years old, anxiety-ridden, and still a virgin, you ask your friend Joel for advice on your upcoming date. But you're more of a...hands-on learner. And he's more than happy to help.
Warnings: PWP, unbalanced power dynamics, virgin!reader, neighbor/bff/more experienced! Joel, age gap, first kiss, virginity loss, fingering, oral (f receiving), frequent check-ins, soo much banter and Joel is a menace also so soft and sweet :')....(ends on a cliffhanger but there will be a part two I swear).
w/c: 7.7k idk what happened
a/n: I am resurfacing for your monthly reminder that I do in fact still write!! Inspiration for this came out of literally nowhere but I took it and RAN with it and I think I like it?? As always, thank you to my baby love @undrthelights for helping me with this and always listening to my rambling and for being my biggest enabler Ilysm
Part Two
my masterlist
"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever."
Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck pound in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed.
"A what?"
"Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head.
"No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?”
"Seriously, Joel. Fuck off" you snap but with no bite or heat behind it. You bring the sweating bottle of beer to your lips and finish the rest of the now lukewarm liquid off in one gulp.
"What? I just find it hard to believe that you've never even had a kiss. Didn't you go to high school? Didn't you ever get invited to a party? Didn't you go to college? College kids do the do like all the time”
"Clearly not all the time" you mutter, a tad bitterly.
Joel raises his hands defensively and takes a sip of his own beer. "Just seems crazy is all. There's gotta be some chick or dude out there willing to take pity on you and pop your cherry."
You audibly gag at his choice of words. "I don't need a pity fuck, thanks." You stand from the couch and head over to the fridge. The bottles of cold alcohol inside are calling your name and you want something that will help soothe your nerves. You're not a big drinker, but when Joel is prying into your love life like he is now, you wish you were.
"Okay,” he starts from the living room. “Maybe I worded that wrong. What I meant to say was, there's gotta be someone out there who would be more than willing to show you a good time."
You groan and let your forehead fall against the fridge door. "That's the whole point! I came here to get advice for my date, someone who might actually be interested in me, and all you've done is make fun of me for not having fucked anyone yet. So thanks, Joel. You're a real pal."
You push away from the fridge and slam the door shut, a second beer in hand.
"Alright, alright, calm down." He says, hands in the air as if you were holding him at gunpoint as you head back to the couch. "Look, if this guy really likes you then he's not gonna care. Probably won't even be able to tell if you are or aren't."
"You think so?" You ask hopefully.
"Well, I mean, unless you're like... super bad."
Your heart drops into your stomach and you glare at him, "Joel."
"Oh come on, I'm kidding. You're not gonna be bad, okay? Just, go into it with an open mind and just relax. If he tries something you're not comfortable with or makes you feel weird, tell him. And if he gets pussy, dump his ass."
"That simple, huh?" You scoff.
"Well, yeah. You're the one who made it complicated by thinking it was a big deal."
"It is a big deal, Joel! I know nothing!
"Nothing? You ain’t ever watched porn? Jesus, I had no idea you were such a prude."
You can't stop yourself from rolling your eyes and slapping the back of your hand against his arm. He yelps and laughs, rubbing his arm.
"I've watched porn before" you retort.
"What kind?" he asks with a wiggle of his brows.
"None of your fucking business" you respond, feeling your face heat up.
Joel's lips quirk into a shit-eating grin and you're quick to smack him again.
"Okay okay, sorry!" he says through his laughter. "So what exactly are you afraid of?"
You're not really sure how to answer. It's a combination of so many things, most of which are irrational fears and insecurities. Sure you've seen it all done before, but you're well aware that none of it is realistic. At least, not completely. And just the fact that you're freshly 25 years old without a single notch in your bedpost makes you dizzy with anxiety. It's not like you're saving yourself or anything, it's just that hook up culture has never agreed with you and there's never been an opportunity that made you feel like it was the right one. That is until now, with your cute coworker who you thought was miles out of your league asking you out on a third date. And now, the prospect of being in bed with him is looming over you like a dark cloud and the last thing you want to do is mess it up.
"I guess, I'm just afraid that he's gonna be disappointed, or I'm gonna weird him out, or I'm gonna do something wrong and embarrass myself.” Joel nods along and listens. "And if it is bad then we still have to work with each other and then what if it's awkward and everyone knows about it and then he hates me and--"
"Okay, whoa slow down there, buddy" Joel says, putting a hand on your shoulder. "One, you're overthinking this. You're literally thinking like, five steps ahead of what's actually going on. It's a date. And even if it does end up in the bedroom, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. No one's forcing you, okay? He can't. No one can."
"I know, but I want to," you reply quietly.
"Alright. Then do."
"I don't know howwww!! " you whine, flopping backwards into the couch.
Joel groans and sits up a little straighter, scrubbing a hand down his face.
"Well, there's no magic trick, I don't have a secret sex manual I'm holding out on ya."
You sigh, shoulders sagging as you look over at him. The idea comes out of nowhere, well, not exactly from nowhere, but it pops in your head so fast that you then have to bite your tongue before the words bubbling up from your throat come tumbling out.
It's not a bad idea, not necessarily.
You've been good friends with Joel ever since you moved in next door last year. An unlikely pairing, a 40 year old contractor and an almost 25 year old office worker. But after offering him a six pack as part of introducing yourself to the neighbors, you'd gotten along famously. He fixes things around your house and you send him home with hot dinners and warm, gooey cookies.
It's an easy friendship, open and honest and supportive, and Joel has never given you reason not to trust him. He's a good guy, if not a little brash, but you know deep down he means well. And it doesn't hurt that he's objectively attractive, with his tall and sturdy frame, strong, calloused hands, dark messy curls....It's not a bad idea.
It's an absolutely insane idea.
You continue to stare at him, clenching your teeth together to hold back the question sitting on the tip of your tongue.
"What?" he says, looking back at you.
"Nothing" you mutter, eyes flicking away.
"You've got that face you make when you're about to say something really stupid, so just get it out."
You glare at him again, not enjoying the way he can read you so well.
"I wasn't gonna say anything."
"Well now you're lying."
"I'm not."
"You're doing it again!"
"Doing what?!"
"That face!"
"I'm not making a face!"
"Yes you are! Just spit it out!"
You groan and hide your face in your hands. You blame it on the one beer even though you know you’re not anywhere close to being drunk because how else would you justify what you’re about to say? You wait a moment, thinking about the weight of it but your mouth opens before you can stop yourself.
"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever."
Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck and hear it in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed.
"A what?"
"Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head.
"No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?”
His eyes are wide, and he looks incredulous. You can't blame him, because the more time that passes between your suggestion and now, the more ridiculous the idea seems.
"I’m sorry, that was…It was stupid. Pretend I didn't say anything. Let's just watch a movie." You move to grab the remote, but Joel's hand covers yours, stopping you.
"Is that what you want?"
You look at him, searching his expression for any sign of disgust or apprehension. But all you can see is the same Joel you've known for months, patient, warm, and understanding.
"I know. I know it's stupid. But I can't get this date out of my head, Joel. It's all I can think about and the more I do, the more worried I get and I just don't want to fuck it up. And I know we're friends and this is weird and gross, but I just thought that... maybe, I could have some practice, so to speak."
He doesn't say anything. Just keeps looking at you, the panic rising in your chest the longer the silence stretches. You start to fidget, wringing your hands together in your lap.
"I'm sorry, that was way out of line" you say, moving to stand up, your skin sweaty and hot with embarrassment and your feet ready to run out the door and never come back.
But Joel catches your wrist, gently pulling you back down to sit next to him.
"Joel" you whine, not wanting him to humiliate you any further.
"It's okay, come here."
His voice is softer than before, and his eyes are kind. You let him pull you closer, the two of you sitting knee to knee. You can't bring yourself to look him in the eyes, not with your cheeks and the tips of your ears burning like they are, but Joel doesn't push. He simply moves his hand from your wrist, sliding it into yours. His palms are rough and warm, and the simple touch alone is comforting.
"You really wanna do this?” he asks softly. You can feel his eyes boring into you. “I mean, I'm not exactly a prize winning catch. And it's not like there's a shortage of willing men out there."
You shrug and chew the inside of your lip.
"Yeah, but you're my friend and I...I trust you."
There's another pause, and you wish that you could just disappear into the couch and erase this moment from your memory.
"How drunk are you?" he asks, glancing at the beer bottle on the coffee table.
"You saw me finish one bottle. And half of another. I’m barely tipsy."
"Not drunk?”
"Nope."
"You're gonna remember this tomorrow."
"Uh huh."
"And you still want to?"
You groan for the millionth time and squeeze his hand.
"Yes I want to! Look, if you don't want to then that's fine. It was just a dumb suggestion and we can just forget this ever happened."
He hums, considering your words. His hand slips out of yours, and you think that's it, you've scared him off and washed the friendship down the drain. That you'll have to hide from him from now on, that you'll have to pack your things up and move because the mortification would be too much, and that he'll hate you, and—
His two fingers sliding under chin surprise you, and he tilts your head up. He's looking down at you with that same even expression, eyes big, soft, and warm as he slides his hand over to cup your jaw in his palm.
"If you want to stop at any point, just say so, okay? I won't be upset and we can go back to the way things were before. Got it?"
You nod, your throat suddenly too tight to speak. His thumb sweeps over your cheekbone, the tender touch is enough to make your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this is actually happening. That your first kiss is going to be with your 40 year old menace of a neighbor. That you’re going to, how did you put it, get a sex lesson from him. His gaze flicks down to your lips and back up to your eyes and you’re positive you’re no longer able to breathe.
"Can I kiss you?" he asks softly. You nod.
You're sure he can hear the thumping of your heart in his own ears as he leans down. His other hand comes to rest on your hip and when his lips touch yours, a soft, tentative pressure, you're not prepared for the electricity that shoots through you.
He's barely done anything and already you feel like you're floating. Your own hands reach out to clutch his shirt, keeping him close, afraid he'll pull away and leave you cold and wanting if you don't. But he stays put, pressing himself against you, his lips working gently against yours. You follow his lead, kissing him back while trying not to overthink it.
It's nothing like the kisses in the movies or the books, where fireworks explode behind your eyelids or where your foot pops up in the air. It's far more subdued, more quiet and subtle. But the warmth that pools low in your belly and the goosebumps that erupt on your skin when his tongue slides against the seam of your lips, light and quick, makes you absolutely melt.
He pulls back before you can really react, and you're left with a dizzying rush of both blistering desire and excruciating anxiety. You want to pull him back in and never let him go. But your heart is beating so fast you can hardly breathe, your nerves are buzzing, and the urge to run and hide is nearly paralyzing.
"Was it bad?" you ask tentatively, cheeks heated.
"No" he replies, giving your hip a squeeze as a smirk plays on his lips. "It was fucking awful. Worst kiss of my life"
"Shut up!" you hiss, pushing him away with a hand on his chest. He laughs, the sound easing some of the tension in your body.
"I'm just teasing" he says, voice dropping lower. "C'mere, we can work on it."
His lips find yours again, and you try not to smile into the kiss but it's hard when you can feel the way his lips are quirked up as well. It doesn’t take much else to get you to relax and let yourself fall into the moment, into the gentle press of his mouth and the warm hands on your hip and your cheek. He swipes his tongue against your lips again, his fingers pressing lightly into the hinge of your jaw to tilt your head back and coax your lips apart.
You let him, sighing as his tongue glides across yours, hot and smooth and sweet. Your hands slide up his chest, finding purchase around his shoulders, and when you move forward, pushing yourself against him, he grunts softly but lets you. He kisses you until the both of you are gasping for air, and when he pulls back, his lips are wet and red and you're certain yours must be as well.
"Better?" you ask, a bit breathless.
"Getting there" he answers with, his breath warm where it fans across your cheek.
"You're such a liar" you say with a goofy smile.
"Yeah, I know. Now try again, practice makes perfect.”
You roll your eyes but lean back in nonetheless. It's a bit more heated this time, the feeling of his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip making you squirm. His hand rounds over your hip, palm smoothing to the small of your back to pull you closer, the heat of his body radiating through your clothes and warming your skin. Your hands move on their own accord, no thought behind the action as they slide up to his shoulders and then his neck, your fingers finding home in the curls at the base of his skull. When you give them a slight tug, you're rewarded with a muffled grunt from Joel. Emboldened, you pull back, lips swollen and tingling.
"You’re a good kisser,” you pant. "Is that something people usually say?"
"When it’s true" he says, grinning at you. "And since I know you're gonna ask, I'd say that was a C+, maybe a B-."
You scoff but blush furiously at the smile he flashes, his eyes crinkling in the corners.
"Well then, tell me what to do next. What do I need to know?"
Joel hums as he thinks for a moment.
"What do you want to do?"
You stare at him for a second, blinking.
"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you" you say, shaking your head a bit.
"Well, how far do you want to take this?"
You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very shy. You can’t deny that when the idea popped in your head it was accompanied by the mental image of you naked, spread out on his bed, but the actual act of asking him, or better yet, actually doing it is... intimidating to say the least. Are you really about to let him go all the way, to see you bare and vulnerable, let him pop your cherry as he would disgustingly put it? All just to “prepare” for a date with a guy who might not even like you that way?
Yeah, probably.
"All the way" you answer. “I want to go all the way”
He doesn’t pounce on you like you expected, doesn’t press his lips against yours in a frenzied kiss that you had half hoped for. Instead, he simply looks at you, his brown eyes boring into yours, searching.
"Are you sure? You can always say no and you're not gonna lose me as a friend if this isn’t what you actually want. I don’t want you thinking that."
You can't help the laugh that bubbles up and slips out, because of course Joel, your kind, thoughtful Joel, would say that. He's a good man. A great one, even.
"Yes, I'm sure. But if you don't, I get it, I can just leave and-"
Joel laughs, the sound traveling up from deep in his chest, the rumble vibrating against you.
"Sweetheart, I wouldn't be doin’ this if I didn't want to. Just makin’ sure this is what you really want."
"I want it.”
He squeezes your hip and swipes a thumb over your cheekbone once again.
“Alright then.” He nods, firm and resolute, and then looks around the room. “ We’re not doing it here, though. If you're getting the full Joel Miller experience, we're gonna do it right.”
Your eyes roll reflexively, but your heart picks up its pace regardless.
"I’m not gonna do anything if you call it that ever again."
"Fine, fine,” he relents. “Let me show you what a good, thorough fucking feels like. Better?"
Your jaw drops, and he's laughing at you, his body shaking with amusement.
"Fuck you" you grumble, shoving him away while trying to hide your coy smile.
"Yeah, that's what I'm hoping for," he says with a wide, self-assured grin.
"I'm leaving" you declare with a false sense of offense as you rise to your feet. Joel is quick to do the same and before you can take a single step away, he slips a finger through the belt loop of your jeans and tugs you back into him, wrapping an arm around your waist.
"I’ll stop, I’ll stop. I'm sorry" he says, not sounding it one bit.
You huff, but let him pull you closer until you’re pressed against his chest and you have to tilt your head back to look at him.
"I’ll be good. I promise."
"Liar"
"Well, yeah. But I can promise that I'll make you feel good."
You can't help the giggle that spills out and he kisses it away, his lips warm and plush and sweet against yours. The hand not resting on your lower back comes up, curling around the nape of your neck and keeping you close. You sink into him, and the fog creeps in again, dulling the rest of the world, making it seem fuzzy and distant, like the memory of a dream. All you can focus on is him, the warm solid weight of him against you, the strong arms holding you, the way his mouth moves against yours. And then he’s pulling back all too soon and you have to stifle a whine.
"Come on" he says, tugging at your hand.
His bedroom is dim, the little lamp on his nightstand and the faint glow of the moon through the curtains providing the only light. You swallow and take a deep breath as you step inside, your bare toes digging into the plush carpet, his hand warm and large where it grips yours.
He holds onto you as he sits on the edge of the bed. You step forward, letting him pull you between his knees. His hands settle on your hips, and you can feel their heat through the fabric of your shirt.
He doesn’t ask if you're sure again and you’re grateful because you’re not sure if you could form any kind of response right now. Instead, he slides his hands up and under your shirt, fingers dancing across your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps. Your breath hitches as his hands smooth over your ribs and around to your back, the tips of his fingers mapping out the curve of your spine, skimming over each notch and bump. They climb higher, the fabric of your shirt bunching around his wrists.
“Can I take this off, baby?”
Your heart jumps to your throat but you nod anyway. He grabs the hem and tugs your shirt up and and you lift your arms so he can slip it off over your head. He tosses it aside, the fabric falling to the floor beside the bed. You’re left exposed, vulnerable and bare, save for the worn out bra you wear, a few too many washes and a few years past its prime.
Your hands itch where they hang by your side with the instinct to cover yourself, hide the imperfections that you know so well, the stretch marks, the softness of your stomach, the way the cups of your bra are just a bit too small and spill over the tops.
But then he’s pressing his lips to the space just above your navel, his scruff tickling your skin and making the muscles in your abdomen jump and twitch. His hands find your waist again, and when his lips continue their path upwards, his palms follow, skimming up your sides, thumbs tracing the outline of your ribs before stopping at the band of your bra.
"This too?" he asks, voice quiet and husky.
"Yeah" you answer with a squeak, and he grins like a kid in a candy store.
His fingers undo the clasp deftness that makes your knees go weak, the straps slipping from your shoulders and the whole thing sliding down your arms, landing somewhere near your shirt.
"God, baby, look at you" he murmurs, his hands cupping the underside of your breasts, his thumbs sweeping over the tops and then down the slope and around your nipple. Your breath hitches, the gentle touch sending a shiver up your spine. "You're fucking perfect."
The praise is unexpected and it sends a jolt of heat through your core. You whimper quietly and his hands are on you again, the calloused palms rough on the soft skin of your breasts. He kneads the flesh, squeezing gently before rolling your nipples between his fingers, pulling and pinching and teasing.
He pulls you closer and ducks his head, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He looks up at you through his lashes, eyes dark and hooded, and his pupils blown wide with desire.
"Can I?" he asks.
"Please."
He leans in and wraps his lips around a peaked nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, the gentle heat of his mouth on your skin making your knees weak.
His mouth works on one breast, tongue flicking and teasing while his free hand continues its work on the other. Pleasure builds and coils deep inside, the sensation unfamiliar but certainly not unwelcome. You whimper and he pulls away, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before giving it a sweet parting kiss.
He turns his attention to the other, his teeth grazing over the stiff peak and drawing a whine from your lips. He sighs when your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling at the strands until he groans softly against you. He sucks your other nipple into his mouth, the flat of his tongue pressing against it and dragging up and around, swirling and flicking. You’re already breathless, panting, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on your forehead.
"Feels good, Joel," you whisper shyly.
"I know, honey" he says, a soft smile pulling at his lips when he pulls away. "Feel good anywhere else?"
He doesn't wait for a response, simply slips a hand between your thighs, cupping you through the denim, the simple action making you squeak.
"Here, huh?" he says, the heel of his palm pressing against you.
You gasp softly and nod, biting your lip, too shy to say anything.
"Get on the bed, baby."
You comply, crawling onto the mattress and scooting backwards towards the pillows, sitting at the head of the bed as you watch him. His eyes never leave you as he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Your heart thumps as you stare at his bare chest, his tanned skin dotted with a light dusting of salt and pepper hair. He's broad, his shoulders thick and chest solid. Your fingers burn with the urge to reach out and touch him, so you do, extending a tentative, slightly shaky hand.
He watches you closely, eyes flitting down to the palm pressed against his chest before meeting yours again, his mouth curling into a smile.
"You can touch" he says, reaching down to curl a hand around your wrist and bringing it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the center of your palm before guiding your hand back down to his chest. "I think most people would enjoy that."
"You're having entirely too much fun with this,” you mumble while your fingers spread out across his pec.
"It is fun" he counters, his own hand sliding up the inside of your thigh, thumb pressing against the seam of your jeans and rubbing up and down. "But it'll be more fun once these come off"
Your lips part, a puff of air rushing out.
"You gonna take them off?" you ask, the words slipping out, bold and unbidden.
He grins, his brow quirking up.
"Look at you, being all bossy"
"You like it" you say, finally feeling some of the anxiety slipping away, the familiar and comfortable banter between the two of you slipping into place in a new, unfamiliar situation.
His smile takes up nearly his whole face as moves closer.
“I sure do.”
He looms over you, bracing himself on an elbow next to your head before ducking down to kiss you, his tongue easily slipping into your mouth, warm and insistent. You sigh into it, your hands finding the warm, bare skin of his back, muscles gliding beneath your palms as you slide them up and around, fingertips digging into his shoulders. He's so warm and solid and you can't help the little noise that slips out, a soft, needy moan. You're about to break the kiss and beg him to touch you, give you something, anything, but he pulls back before you can.
"Impatient. I like that too" he says, voice barely above a whisper.
He kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin. He continues his path, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses across your collarbones and down the valley between your breasts, his beard tickling your sternum.
His palm presses into the top of your thigh, and you instinctively open your legs for him, his hand immediately moving to cup you through the denim, thick fingers pressing against the seam and the bundle of nerves just below. Your hips rock up, seeking more pressure and he grins, entirely too pleased with himself right now.
You huff, and he laughs, the sound rumbling in his chest, but he relents, undoing the button and zipper of your jeans and tugging the fabric down, revealing the pair of pink panties underneath.
Joel sits up, pulling your jeans down your legs and letting them drop off the side of the bed, the sound of the denim hitting the floor indicating that you've officially crossed a line that neither of you can come back from. But if the hungry, desperate look on his face and the way you're practically vibrating underneath him are any indication, neither of you want to.
"I'll start with just my fingers, yeah?" he says, his hands running up the insides of your thighs, touch light and teasing, the tips of his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. You nod dumbly, at a complete loss for words right now.
He ducks his head, his lips landing on the smooth skin stretched over your hip bone. You squirm, ticklish, and he grins. His mouth is a great distraction from his hand, which has found its way back in between your legs, his fingers now pressing against damp fabric.
"Shit" he curses, his touch firm. "Fuckin' soaked already. Am I just that good?" he quips with a smirk.
"Jesus do you ever shut up" you gripe, but the effect is ruined by the whimper that escapes you when his thumb sweeps up, pressing hard against your clit.
"Oh, that's a pretty sound" he murmurs, repeating the motion to pull out another one, your hips bucking against his hand.
"Now," he starts, his tone shifting to the same one he uses when he's about to impart some life lesson. "This guy you're gonna see, or any man for that matter, should always take care of you before himself. That's just common fuckin' sense. And if he doesn't, you send him on his way" he continues. "Because a man that don't wanna see a woman get off is no fuckin' man at all"
You're about to interrupt, tell him he's an idiot and ask him to please, please, get on with it, but his fingers sliding under the elastic of your panties, swiftly pulling them down your legs steals the breath from your lungs. Your pulse sky rockets and you shift underneath him, crossing your thighs in instinctual effort to hide yourself from him.
"M'sorry I didn't shave or anything" you blurt out, your throat tight with anxiety and embarrassment once again
Joel just shakes his head as he pries your legs apart.
"Baby, I could not give less of a shit about that."
"But-"
"No" he says, the word firm, an edge of command to his tone. "You’re not apologizin’ for that. And if a man gives a shit, he's a fuckin' child who doesn't deserve the honor of bein' between these thighs" he says, pushing your knees further apart.
You nod and bite your lip, the words that are just so very Joel, settling in your chest and easing the tension in your body. You let out a long, slow breath and relax, trying to ease the nervousness.
"There ya go" he says, his fingers dancing along your slit, gathering the slick pooling there. You shudder at the gentle touch, your hips rolling up just a bit before you force them back down into the mattress, trying to keep yourself still.
"Nuh-uh. None of that" he says, immediately noticing the movement. He slides his free hand under you, his palm pushing into the small of your back and encouraging you to move again, to lean into your pleasure. "You take what you want, baby. Show me how good it feels. That's all I wanna see."
You squirm and whimper, the simple, almost lazy touch driving you insane. You've touched yourself before, brought yourself over the edge while imagining what it would be like to have the things you read about and watch in videos happen to you. But you've never managed to make yourself feel this good, never felt pleasure so intense, never felt a burning pressure in your abdomen so demanding that it radiates all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes.
And he's barely touched you.
"How's that feel?"
You can't even form the words, so you just nod and hum, the sound a mix of a whimper and a moan, your hips rolling up against his palm. He chuckles, and then the pressure increases, the friction building, his fingers slipping down, collecting more of your wetness to ease the drag against your skin.
He moves his fingers down, down, down, the tip of one circling your entrance, gathering the wetness pooling there. You whine loudly, any shame and modesty you once had replaced entirely with desperate need and pure desire.
"Please, Joel" you whisper, voice shaky.
"I gotcha" he says, dipping his fingertip in, just barely, and pulling a moan from deep in your chest. "Gonna give you what you need"
You groan, a long, low sound as he slowly sinks his finger into you. It's nothing like your own, so perfectly thick and long/ And you found the spot before, the spot that he curls his finger up into, but never at this angle, never with the perfect amount of pressure that he's applying right now.
"Mmm, look at that" he coos as you clench tightly around his finger.
"Joel, god, feels so good" you whimper pathetically.
"I know, honey, I know."
You clench again, the cockiness and self-assured attitude that usually gets under your skin now ignites your whole body in an entirely different way. He keeps his eyes on your face, watching as your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drops open, your head tipping back as the pleasure builds.
"Another" you beg, the fullness not nearly enough.
"Greedy girl" he chides, but he pulls his finger out, and slides two back in. You swear that you could come from this alone, but he doesn't let you, the hand that was supporting your lower back disappearing, only to reappear between your thighs, his thumb circling your clit with firm, steady strokes.
White hot pleasure wraps around the base of your spine, the dual sensations of his fingers and his thumb sending you spiraling. The sounds falling from your lips are unrecognizable, high and desperate as your mind goes blissfully blank, your entire focus on the heat coiling in your abdomen. Your eyebrows pinch together and you bury your face in the pillow next to your head, trying to hide the ridiculous expression you're surely making, but you inhale the traces of his shampoo and cologne that cling to the fabric, the scent pushing you even closer to the edge.
You try to hold back. Surely you're not supposed to come this quickly, not just from two fingers and a thumb. Surely that's a sign that you're an easy lay, or too inexperienced, or-
"Just let it happen, baby. I can feel it, Just let go" Joel says, his voice cutting through the thoughts racing through your mind, his fingers crooking inside you and dragging across the spot that makes your hips stutter and a cry fall from your lips.
You can't hold back any longer, the pleasure cresting and crashing down around you. You squeeze his fingers, your back arching, the heels of your feet digging into the mattress as you roll your hips up into his touch, seeking more and more and more. And he gives and gives and gives, working you through it and drawing it out for as long as he can before you melt into the mattress, bones and muscles liquid and warm and satisfied.
He pulls his fingers out, and the sudden emptiness draws a disappointed whine from you, his answering chuckle making you smile.
"That was- fuck" you sigh, not quite capable of coherent thought.
"Absolutely mind-blowing? Yeah I know" he teases. You roll your eyes but don't say anything because it's true, and his cocky grin fades into a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches you return to Earth.
"Can I- can I return the favor?" you ask, your gaze flicking down to the noticeable bulge in his jeans.
He grunts and shakes his head.
"Not yet. Got somethin' else in mind."
You frown and push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as he shifts from his position. You're about to ask what he's going to do until he's settling himself on his stomach between your thighs. You suck in a sharp breath as you realize exactly what he's got planned and your heart jumps, anxiety clouding your mind once again.
He rests his cheek on your thigh, his eyes meeting yours.
"Alright?"
You swallow and nod, licking your lips.
"Yeah. Just... no one's ever-"
"Yeah, I got that much, that's why we're here" he says, smiling smugly when you glare at him.
"But what if it's not good? Or I don't taste good? Or-"
"Stop" he says, the single word halting your runaway train of thought. "You need lessons in relaxing, not sex. You're so fucking tense all the time"
"Sorry" you say, immediately cringing.
He sighs, his breath ghosting over the skin of your inner thigh, making you shiver. "What did I say about apologizin'?" he says, his tone slightly sharp.
"I know. Sorry- shit, sorry! Fuck!"
He barks out a laugh and you huff, bringing up both hands to scrub over your face.
"See what I mean?"
"Yes, yes, you're very smart and know everything"
He hums and nips at your thigh.
"Damn right I do."
You want to snark back, but his mouth is moving, his lips trailing down the inside of your thigh and towards where you're aching for him, slick and wet and throbbing. He takes his time, laying kisses on your thighs, hips, and stomach, his scruff scraping the sensitive skin, huffing out a laugh when you start to squirm, your patience wearing thin.
His hands smooth over the soft flesh of your inner thighs, urging you to spread them wider before spreading you open with his thumbs, exposing you completely. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and the urge to close your legs and hide yourself from his gaze is overwhelming, the embarrassment making your skin burn. But before you can even think about closing them, his tongue is on you, sliding up the length of you and circling your clit. The moan that escapes you is embarrassingly loud and high pitched, but the mortification is easily swallowed up by the pleasure.
He hums against you, the sound and the feeling sending a shudder through your body. Your hands grip the pillow behind your head and you try not to buck up into his mouth, but your attempts are futile. He doesn't seem to mind though, in fact you think it spurs him on, his tongue flattening against you and lapping at you messily, the wetness he's coaxed from you smearing across his mouth and chin.
The sound is lewd and obscene, the sloppy, slick noises and the soft grunts and groans that rumble in his chest as he works you up. He pulls back, his breath coming out in pants, his chest heaving as he looks up at you, his eyes dark and hooded.
"Don't know what you were worried about" he says, his voice low and raspy. "You taste fuckin' divine"
His beard is shiny and damp, his lips glistening, hair messy from where your fingers were tangled in it. The sight of him looking so completely disheveled and filthy has you clenching around nothing, the ache almost too much to bear.
He doesn't say anything else, just ducks his head and gets back to work, his mouth moving with a renewed urgency, his hands gripping your thighs and pushing them further apart, allowing him better access.
Your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open, a constant stream of moans and whines and babbling pleas and praises falling from your lips, but you're not really sure what you're saying, not really sure of anything except the intoxicating pleasure coursing through your veins.
You hear him moan, can feel the vibration against your skin, and you glance down at him, and that's a mistake. The sight of him, his eyes closed and brows drawn together in concentration, his cheeks hollowed out as he sucks and nips and laps at you and– is he fucking grinding his hips into the mattress?
You're fucked.
A throaty moan tumbles past your lips as your hips start to rock, a rhythm forming as you chase your orgasm. His hands leave your thighs and he slides one arm up, the weight of it resting against your abdomen to keep you still while his other hand snakes down, fingers dipping inside again, finding the spot that makes you see stars.
"Fuck, Joel, please, oh my god, I'm so- please"
He groans in response, the hand on your stomach pressing down harder to meet the two fingers curling and stroking inside of you. You cry out at the increased pressure right as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the bud, his fingers moving faster and faster. Flames lick up your spine and spread throughout your body, threatening to burn you alive.
Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, knocking the wind out of you and turning your limbs to jello. Wave after wave of blinding euphoria crashes over you and all you can do is cling to the pillow and arch your back, your toes curling as he continues to work his fingers and tongue, happily letting you ride his face and grind into his mouth.
He doesn't let up, not until you're a whimpering, trembling mess, physically pushing his head away when it becomes too much. He pulls back reluctantly, a wicked grin plastered to his face, his chin and mouth absolutely soaked. You're panting, struggling to catch your breath as the aftershocks make you shiver despite the content warmth spreading throughout your entire body.You feel sated and sleepy, a bone deep satisfaction making you feel boneless.
But as you come down from your high, rational thoughts start to filter in and you suddenly remember the reason this all started in the first place.
You're here to learn, he should be teaching you how to please a man.
How to please him.
You watch as he gets off the bed and wipes his chin with the back of his hand. Your eyes shamelessly rake over him, the dusty pink flush that decorates his neck and chest, the curve of his belly down to the impressive bulge in his jeans.
You push yourself up, ignoring the way your arms tremble with the effort. He looks at you, his eyes scanning your face no doubt looking for signs of distress.
"You ok?" he asks, eyebrows pinched together in his typical concerned Joel fashion.
"Yeah" you say, a little breathlessly. "But I still want to..."
Your voice trails off and you glance down at his crotch, hoping he gets the message.
"That's alright, baby. It's a lot, we don't-"
"No" you interrupt, a hint of desperation in your voice. "You said you would teach me. Please, Joel. I-I wanna learn" You hope it's a good enough cover to the fact that you really just want him, your original goal forgotten. "I just don't want to embarrass myself" you add, pouting slightly for good measure, praying to god that he can’t detect the underlying want for him and him only.
He watches you for a moment, seemingly contemplating his decision. And then his eyes narrow, because of course he knows. There's never been an instance where you succeeded in lying to this man. He always, always knows when something is off.
"Alright" he says, a slow smile spreading across his face, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. "Dick sucking class is now in session"
You groan, your face twisting with visible disgust.
"Oh my god, that was terrible."
"What? It's true" he says with a shrug.
"That is- no, no way. Never say those words ever again. Ever." you say, pointing a finger at him accusingly.
"Or what?" he challenges, taking a step towards the bed.
You gulp and lick your lips.
"Or..."
He waits expectantly for a response. You have none, so you just shake your head and look away.
"Yeah, that's what I thought"
You glare at him and then sigh.
"You're a bully"
"Am I?” He asks, taking a step back to give you more room. “ 'Cause you're the one that asked me to teach ya. On your knees, kid. Let's see whatcha got."
You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress a grin. You don't know how he does it, but his ability to make a joke or a quip out of anything always has a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, even when the jokes are awful and the puns are terrible. Even when the joke is about you getting ready to suck his dick.
"You're a bully and a pervert" you say, sliding off the bed and sliding to your knees, the plush carpet doing a decent job at protecting your joints.
"And proud of it.”
"Pride is a sin."
"So is premarital sex, so I'll see you in hell, honey"
You snort and look up at him from your place on the floor, grinning widely.
"You're ridiculous"
"You love it"
And that's the thing, isn't it?
Because you do. You love his innate ability to make you laugh, to make you smile even when he's about to take your fucking virginity. He knows how to comfort you, how to put you at ease, when to push you with his teasing and when to pull back and let you take control. You've never met a person who has so effortlessly made their way into your heart.
And here you are, on your knees for him under the false pretense of practicing for a man who's name you can't even remember right now.
You shake your head, the motion clearing the thoughts and the emotions that were swirling in your head, the ones that make you want to stand up and kiss him, kiss him until your lips are numb and you're left gasping for air.
"Joel?" you say his name softly.
"Yeah, baby?"
"Teach me."
Part 2 is already in the works I promise hehehe thank you for reading I hope u all enjoy!!
#joel miller smut#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x you#joel miller one shot#joel miller fic#the last of us#tlou fic#joel miller#pedro pascal characters
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𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐎𝐋𝐃-𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘 !
⟣ sypnosis. you were curious if your boyfriend would pass a ‘loyalty test’ that you’ve seen on social media and you decide to see for yourself, only to discover something much more . . . heartwarming.
⟣ tags. gojo satoru x female reader. mostly tooth rotting fluff. talks about cheating / a sprinkle of trust issues from reader. the rest is satoru just being lovesick.
⟣ note. uhhhh… idk just a random idea i got at three am on a saturday night after being woken up from a nightmare >_< enjoy .
you don’t think satoru would actually ever cheat on you. your curiosity just got the best of you when you saw that one girl do a ‘loyalty test’ on her boyfriend. it was quite simple—testing if your partner would hand you their phone without being suspiciously defensive.
therefore you walked into satoru’s room and spotted him laying on his side, his back facing the door. he didn’t have any earphones in so you could hear the sounds of a movie playing on the phone he held in his hands.
he seemed so peaceful and content that you were already feeling bad for disturbing him with your silly test. you moved to sit on the edge of the bed and cleared your throat, making your presence known as if the sorcerer hadn’t sensed it moments ago.
“are you cheating on me?”
blunt and straight to the point.
satoru pauses the show on his phone and looks at you like you had said the most outrageous thing there is (to him, you really did). he drops the device on the bed and turns his body to face yours; “well—hello to you too, baby.”
he runs a hand through his hair before sitting up against the headboard with a raised brow, one hand cautiously reaching out for you. satoru was thinking about all the things he has said or done previously that could’ve possibly make you think he was screwing around behind your back. his mind worked fast, though he couldn’t come up with any logical explanation.
“answer my question please, ‘toru.” you mumble, feeling slightly guilty for doing this to your lover. you could see the confusion plastered on his face.
“no, i am not.” satoru shakes his head whilst holding your hand in his, thumb brushing against the back of it, “what makes you think that?”
you weren’t about to say ‘oh nevermind then! just a dumb thing that i saw on tiktok’—no, there was still one thing left to do. even if you’re so super sure that your boyfriend was hiding nothing from you. maybe there was an one in a million chance that your intuition was wrong. or maybe it’s just your underlying trust issues speaking.
“uhh, just wanted.. to check.. i guess?” you clear your throat and take a deep inhale before putting your hand out to satoru, palm up.
the white-haired sorcerer looks from your hand to you, and back. he doesn’t know what that indicated, so he takes a simple guess; satoru places his chin on your palm, giving you an amused kind of grin. you raise an eyebrow as he rests his head on your hand—which wasn’t what you wanted to gain from your gesture.
but you couldn’t blame him. it was cute that that was the first thing he thought of doing.
“you’re always welcome to check. got nothin’ to hide anyway.” he shrugs, not offended by your accusation in the slightest. you see the way his blue eyes look up at you—in a way that shows his pure, unadulterated adoration for you.
you nod and scratch satoru under his chin, to which he smiles and closes his eyes, enjoying the tingling touch, “then can i .. look through your phone?”
without an ounce of hesitation, he had placed his phone unlocked in your hand. satoru doesn’t care much about privacy anyway—you’re his girlfriend, you’re the only one allowed to know every single thing about him, “of course, baby.”
your eyes land on the screen and your jaw drops as you see his home screen; a picture of you up close, sleeping with your cheek squished against his arm, own hands resting near your head and . . . is that drool trickling down your chin?
“oops, sorry, you were too cute not to take a picture of.” satoru chuckles as he sees your reaction. he lays back on his side, elbow propped on the pillow with his head resting against his hand—watching you go through his phone with a relaxed look.
you roll your eyes playfully before starting your search. your finger swiped across the screen and landed on the messenger app satoru uses. you click on it and scroll through his chats, but don’t find anything out of the ordinary. he recently talked to you, his first year students, nanami and shoko.
you curiously tap on his chat with shoko and don’t read anything interesting at first glance. you scroll up and take note of how satoru was the one who kept most of the conversation going. shoko’s replies were much shorter and curt—straight to the point.
but then your eyes land on a conversation from two weeks ago. satoru had showed shoko a bunch of selfies you had sent him that same day. he was telling her how ‘cute’ and ‘pretty’ you were, practically bragging about you being his girl.
you scroll up some more and see that he’s done the same many times before; sending shoko pictures of you and kind of rambling to her about how beautiful you are.
shoko—being the good friend she is—indulged into his little lovesick ramblings and agreed with every thing satoru said—even complimenting your looks herself. you begun to get embarrassed at this unexpected revelation.
when going through more of his chats with other people, you realise how much satoru loves to talk about you. you couldn’t possibly count the many times satoru had refused invitations from his students or other friends simply because he wanted to hang out with you instead.
you discovered that he even skipped two or three important meetings at the school to go spend the day with you—nanami scolding him via text each time he did so.
“damn..” you murmur and glance up at your lover after closing his messaging app. satoru was staring right back at you with the biggest grin you’ve ever seen on him.
he wasn’t embarrassed about you reading some of those cheesy and sappy texts at all. in fact, he was happy. he wants you to know how much he loves you (as if he doesn’t show you exactly that every day of the week).
“go on, sweets.” satoru nods towards his phone, encouraging you to continue your inspection. your eyes dart back towards the screen and you shyly swipe and scroll some more, eventually ending up in his gallery.
the first things you noticed: two albums dedicated to you. all were filled with hundreds of pictures of you (and him). one was named ‘my love,’ the other ‘me&my love’ — both with a heart at the end. scrolling through them, you noticed many images you hadn’t even realised were ever taken.
many of those pictures were also favourited in his gallery.
you nibble on your bottom lip and leave the gallery app even more flustered than before. you aimlessly click around some more on his phone. what really surprised you most was that you were named in his reminder app.
there were tons—all added in one long list. some were so pure that you couldn’t contain the slight tears in your eyes;
‘bring gf gifts’, ‘remind gf that she’s amazing’, ‘bring gf lunch’, ‘send gf daily selfie’, ‘daily cuddles w gf (if she wants)’, ‘give gf big smooch (important!)’, ‘check up on gf when away on business’, — satoru doesn’t actually need to have those reminders on his phone. his mind is so full of you that he’ll automatically remember to do everything, almost on autopilot. he just has those there for… well, just in case he somehow ends up forgetting.
you lock his phone after seeing enough and give it back to your lover. you wordlessly crawl over to him on the bed and snuggle up to his body, head resting on his chest.
“sorry.” you quietly apologise. you knew he wasn’t hiding anything, but the fact that you still went ahead and tried out that ‘loyalty test’ on someone as loyal and loving as satoru makes your heart ache a bit. especially after discovering just how smitten he’s with you.
“dunno why you’re apologising—but please don’t.” satoru whispers and rubs your back in a soothing manner, kissing the top of your head and smiling against your scalp afterwards, “it’s fiiine.”
he’s entertained by the reactions to your discoveries, even if those are but mere indications to the actual unending and undying love he holds for you in his heart.
you lift your head up and look at satoru. your bottom lip stuck out, corners of your mouth twitching slightly whilst your eyes started to get a bit glassy. you really felt bad—yet you also felt appreciated on the other hand. if you didn’t go through with your curious idea, you wouldn’t have gotten to know about any of this.
“aww, my sweet, sweet girl.” satoru coos and places two kisses right below each eye, tapping your nose with a grin. he adores the way you look and if it wasn’t for his self control, he’d have nibbled on those cheeks of yours out of playful aggression.
it’s then that satoru remembers one of his daily tasks; one he hadn’t properly done today.
you were caught off guard once more as satoru’s lips crashed down onto yours—no warning given whatsoever. his big hands held onto your cheeks, thumb rubbing the skin there whilst his glossy lips moved against yours in a gentle yet much sloppy way.
“there,” the white-haired man hums in content as he pulls away, giggling once he sees a bit of his saliva coat your mouth. he wipes it away with his thumb, “your smooch of the day.”
you couldn’t help but laugh at the exaggerated cringy way satoru said the latter—your boyfriend laughing right alongside you afterwards.
satoru wasn’t done with you, however. he had many other daily tasks that were yet to be fulfilled.
#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jjk fluff#jjk x you#gojo x you#satoru x reader#jjk fic#everyone boooo this bcs i hate the way it turned out ☝🏽☝🏽
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The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice (a Valentino production)
⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣
Valentino has acquired a living, breathing human in hell. But at the begging of Angel, Alastor makes a deal in exchange for her soul.
tags: Alastor x reader, smut, dubcon, mentions of assault (Val intended to "fuck you to death”), Val's existence, overstimulation, forced (?) orgasms, bondage (shadow tentacles), choking (sexy kind, not murdery kind), cervix wrecked, your aunt is a bitch
(author's note: I've been in Japan for like 7 years and my English has suffered, but your fucking smutty writing on this site has inspired me to write for the first time in years.)
Minors DNI
Angel burst into the hotel lobby, winded. “Please, you gotta do somethin’!”
To the surprise of everyone, he ran straight to Alastor, tears forming in his eyes.
“Val’s gonna hurt her real bad. I don’t know who else to ask, please. I can't—-“ he cradled his head in his hands, “I can't watch him break any more people.”
Alastor didn’t seem to react at first, but Charlie appeared at Angel’s side and pulled him into a hug, “Angel, take a deep breath. He’s gonna hurt who? What’s wrong?”
“He got a new soul. Some fucking cultist offered her up as sacrifice. But she's not dead yet Charlie—- he dragged her down here alive.” His voice cracked, “He wantsta— he said he’s gonna fuck her to death on camera and wait for her to respawn in hell. He’s convinced he’ll make a fortune off the tapes. Please, for fuck’s sake someone has to do something.”
A human in hell? Well, that was something interesting after all. With a raised brow Alastor spoke, “And how exactly can I help this poor, unfortunate soul?”
“Make a deal or– rip his arms off, I don’t fuckin’ know! There has to be something you can offer Val worth her soul. I’d give you my soul if I could!”
Well that’d be worthless.
But a human? A living, breathing human? Intriguing.
“Alastor you have do something. This isn't right! Hell isn’t for the living.” Charlie’s hair flew upward as her eyes flashed red for a second, “I’ll repay it somehow.”
Well there's no harm in taking a look.
The demons and sinners who saw Alastor walking into the Vee’s tower oscillated between fleeing for their lives and live tweeting the event. Either a truce or a war would be breaking out and they knew they’d be fucked regardless.
“Alastooor”, Val exhaled, letting the name drag out lazily, “Come to ruin something, I’m sure.” Val hadn’t seen Alastor since his fight with Vox 7 years ago, and he hadn’t expected to see him in his studio— ever.
“Ha! No, not today. Word got around that there's a special little guest hidden in your studio.” Alastor’s eyes darted about the room, uninterested in the various parts and bits of the actors changing.
Val glanced at Angel, who’d suspiciously returned some 30 minutes before Alastor appeared.
“I didn’t say nothing, Val.” Angel’s hands went up in defense. “He came to me askin’ about her.”
“And what exactly do you want with my “little guest”?” Val dropped any pretense of politeness.
Alastor leaned forward on his microphone, and with a pop of static he practically cooed, “To see the poor creature, of course.”
Val ashed his cigarette into a cameraman’s hair and walked off, “Fuck it, sure. She’s back here.”
The back room was dark, perhaps some would call it mood lighting but what mood exactly it conveyed fell somewhere between dungeon and power outage.
You sat on your knees in the center of a round bed. Arms held above your head by a large clip attached to wrist restraints. Your body swayed slightly, a long rope anchored to the ceiling and tied to the clip above you. Your body was slightly suspended, knees barely making contact with the bed beneath you. The white nightgown you wore was bloodied and ripped at the collar, causing it to slip down your left shoulder. Jaw clenched, your eyes were covered with a red satin tie.
Alastor took the scene in. Your lip was cut and swollen, bruises peppered your cheek and exposed shoulder. Yet, you were breathing heavily, like a bull about to rush them. You were clearly defenseless, but somehow still defiant. His smile grew to his ears. It had been decades since he had a human in such a prone state.
“Have you …. broken her in yet?” He asked delicately, eyes never leaving your face.
“Nah, just roughed her up a little. I want to capture her raw reaction on camera when she takes her first demon cock.” Valentino clenched his fist to emphasize the word “first”.
Your head fell forward as you pulled down on your wrist restraints, a growl rising in your throat.
Alastor felt his breath get caught in his own, your nightgown riding slowly up your legs as you struggled.
“Hey!” Val snapped his fingers in your direction. “Don’t embarrass me. Our guest came to see you. He’s considering making an offer for you, I’m sure, so say hello like a good girl.” Val rolled his eyes, “Sluts always fucking embarrassing me.”
You tried to gather enough saliva to speak, finding the taste of blood still on your tongue. “Fuck you and your friend.” barely made it from your chapped lips. When was your last drink of water? Last meal? How long had you been unconscious before this all began?
“Not friends.” Alastor was quick to retort, “The name’s Alastor, my dear. It’s a pleasure.”
You sneered, a pleasure? What a sick joke.
“Alastor.” you repeated it, disdain dripping from your lips.
The absolute contempt with which you said his name did something to him. His eyes darted from your mouth back to your inner thighs, exposed from the rising dress. Your mouth was so rude but your body looked so sweet. A little lamb– no, a doe.
“Say it again.” It wasn’t a request, Alastor himself was surprised to hear himself say it with such demand.
You thrashed. “Oh is that what gets you off? You wanna hear your name in my mouth?” You said mockingly. “You’re just as FUCKED as him.” The nightgown rode up even further. Alastor’s tongue stuck to his teeth as his mouth went dry. Had you been delivered to Val without panties? Offered to him in just this sheer cotton night dress? What was happening to him…
Static bit your skin as a low hum filled the room.
“Say it.” Alastor’s voice dropped an octave, eyes suddenly taking on a slight glow. You couldn’t see the danger before you, but you felt it. Something primal in you knew you were in the presence of a predator.
No, you couldn’t see him, but his presence was pressing in all around you.
“Alastor.” You seethed, “ALASTOR.” Pulling down on the restraints yet again you tried to find the strength to stand, “ALASTOR! ALASTOR!!” Your legs buckled under you having gone numb hours ago, his name devolving into a gutteral scream. All of your anger and despair ripped from your chest as you shouted his name. The nightgown had now ridden to your hips but you couldn’t find an ounce of shame in you to care.
You were so full of rage, so defiant still. You were so…. alive.
He felt the blood rushing to his crotch in an all together forgotten sensation, and knew immediately his decision. “Let’s make a deal.” His eyes didn’t leave you, but Valentino knew he was talking to him.
Val let out a laugh, “I have some time to waste while they finish the set. Why not.”
Seated in his personal quarters, Val motioned for Alastor to sit opposite him. You had been left in the dark of that room, only knowing you were alone when the static died down and the hair on the nape of your neck relaxed.
“Listen, Radio Demon. There’s nothing you have that could tempt me to hand over the little bitch.” His long arms rested over the back of his sofa, a heart shaped puff of smoke leaving his lips. Alastor swatted at the air as it approached.
“What do you even need her for? You don’t deal in souls, but flesh. Surely you can find another toy to break on camera.” Alastor waved his microphone away.
“Hmm”, Val brought a finger to his chin in thought, seriously considering what Alastor could possibly offer him. “Oooh, I know.” His head lolled to the side, “People have seen me fuck a thousand times. But no one’s ever even seen you with a partner. ‘Radio Demon fucks human sacrifice’” He motioned from left to right as if reading the words off an imaginary marquee, “Now THAT would make money. Real money. Fuck GOD levels of money.” A red liquid leaked from his lips as they were stretched across clenched teeth, his hips involuntarily humped at the air, “oh fuck. Yes. You do the porn, and I’ll give her to you. Soul and body.”
Alastor was looking at Val but his mind was still in front of you, his name tumbling from your lips. The uninterrupted skin where your thighs met your hips. The desperation in your scream. How absolutely soft and fragile you were. He adjusted his hips, trying to calm the twitching of his cock at the thought of you helplessly before him.
“What exactly are you proposing?” His fingers came to rest entwined on his knee, one leg over the other.
“First, I have full rights to the video to do as I please.” Val counted out on his fingers, “The porno has to show penetration. No dry humping or some bullshit like that. I need you fucking that whore if I’m gonna sell this shit. Aaand”, A sickening grin grew on Valentino’s face, “She has to cum. And I’ll know if she’s faking it. If you don’t manage all three, the deal is off. I keep the human and all rights to the video for per— no, *in* pep-“ he sputtered, “perpur- forever! Fuck.”
Alastor’s default grin was now so wide his gums could be seen peeking past his lips, his eyes flashing to dials, “It’s a deal.” He extended his hand to Valentino as he stood. A green light was shining from the open palm but Val shook it regardless, confident the deal's conditions wouldn’t be met. He’d seen a lot of fucked up shit on his set, but the Radio Demon, famously uninterested in sex, wasn’t going to make a battered human cum. How stupid could Alastor be, he thought. And he’ll have the video of Alastor failing to please someone to broadcast all over the pride ring and beyond. “May I have a moment alone with her before the filming?”
Val rolled his eyes, “yeah but don’t fuck her off camera.”
The sudden feeling of a hand on your hip startled you so intensely you let out a yelp.
“Hello, my little doe.” Hot breath tickled the shell of your ear, then your neck, then your collar bone… “Unfortunately your shoot will still continue today. But if you do as I say, I promise you’ll leave the studio alive.”
You felt the nightgown being tugged back down your hips, hiding your exposed sex.
“I will be taking that pompous moth’s place. I will be as gentle as I can, but he will want to see you suffer. You must still fight me, must act pained. Can you play along?”
Your eyes darted behind your eyelids. He sounded— gentle? His voice was soft against your skin. Maybe he was truly the lesser evil of the two. You nodded. You’d heard all the gory details of what the other demon had planned for you, this sounded infinitely more tolerable. You dare thought you’d suffered worse before.
“And, one more little caveat, darling. I will bring you to orgasm, so please don’t fight so hard as to delay your release.”
You hadn’t realized you’d been holding your breath until his words punched you in the gut.
“I-“
“Yes?” Alastor’s mouth was nearly on your neck, his smile ghosting your skin.
“I’ve never—- I mean I can only do that by myself. No one else has managed to-“
A large hand patted your head, cutting your train of thought off. How big was he? His hands could palm a basketball. Could he really be gentle? Was he capable of it? Were those hands going to be on you soon? Your mind was running away with the thought of this strange demon fucking you on camera.
“Oh don’t worry about that. Just focus on your performance. We have to put on a good show!”
Angel was practically chewing his fingers off as he watched the crew finish the set.
“Alastor what the fuck, I thought you were gonna help her!”
“I am, my effeminate friend. Have a little faith in me.” He adjusted his bowtie and took his place on set.
“I have none. I have negative faith, Alastor. Fuuuuck”, Angel slumped against the wall behind him and sank to the floor.
The stage was set. A red sigil was painted on the floor of a cabin, candles lit around the room as the only source of light (except the stage lighting hanging above the scene). Of the three walls they’d made, the far left wall had an altar haphazardly filled with flowers, a golden bowl, and small plaid satchel.
Someone — something? — led you by the restraints to the stage. Blindfolded, you were pushed down to the floor, forced to sit on your still numb legs. The leather cuffs on your wrist were unbuckled, allowing you to flex your hands. When you reached for the blindfold a hand smacked at yours.
“No no, keep it. I want you to look exactly how I found you.” The familiar voice of Val instructed.
Someone handed a script to Alastor, but he pulled his hands away from the demon as if the paper itself was an angelic weapon, “Oh, no thank you. That won’t be necessary.”
“I’ll tell you what to say” Val said, clearly to you.
“It’s—- it’s fine. I’ll just do it like before. I don’t need any help.”
You really didn’t. There was no improv needed. You could repeat exactly what you said yesterday evening when you awoke on the floor of an unfamiliar place. You’d been visiting your aunt one moment, and alone in a weird room what felt like moments later. Groggy, but alert enough to know something bad had happened.
You heard “action”, and then silence. You could feel eyes on you.
“Aunt Sara….” You whispered. “I don’t understand what’s happened… Are you still there?” You rubbed your wrists trying to regain some blood flow, readjusting your legs to do the same.
You heard a strange sound, both yesterday and now.
“Aunt Sara isn’t here. She’s made an exchange, she gets extraordinary power….and I get your soul.” The way Alastor said it, the way his breath seemed to almost hitch, surprised you. Something cold touched your ankle, causing you to flinch, “But I want more than that. I need more than that.”
You felt that something-unknown snake up your leg toward your center. Crawling backwards on your butt to create some distance you collided with the altar. The golden bowl rolled to the edge and spilled its contents across the table. You could smell the iron tang of blood before you felt the pitter patter on your shoulder. Alastor inhaled quickly before letting the air back out with as much control as he could manage.
“Who are you?!” You’d asked this already. But this time the disembodied voice of your captor replied, “Alastor, the Radio Demon! Pleasure to meet you.”
The right side of your face smacked against the floor of the makeshift cabin as you were dragged suddenly across the room and into the red sigil. The cold appendage on your leg now tightly coiled up your calf.
“No— you have to fuck her with your fucking dick! You can’t use shadow tentacles!” Val shouted, nearly falling out of his chair.
“Now now, the deal didn’t specify with what, only that penetration must occur. Plus, I won’t show up on your video recording device anyway.” Alastor took several steps back, ensuring he was not in frame, “Rest assured, your audience will know it is me.” His words cracked and stuttered like someone had changed the station midway through his sentence.
A small, “fine, whatever.” was grumbled and the scene continued, the tentacle snaking its way up your thigh as Alastor chuckled softly at how you flinched against him.
You rolled onto your stomach and tried to kick off the shadow but it held firm. Letting out a groan you used your hands to drag yourself back towards the altar. Before you could reach the table your other leg felt the pressure of a new tentacle twist around your knee as you were dragged back toward the Radio demon once again.
Your nightgown was forced up, your ass now exposed and in the air as your legs were pulled open. That was as far as you had really gone yesterday, before a flash of light delivered you into the Pentagram City studio.
Surprisingly, you felt embarrassed, self conscious knowing there were other people in this room. But as if he could read your mind, or perhaps just noticed the tremble in your legs, Alastor softly said, “It’s only us now, darling. There’s nowhere to hide.”
Third and fourth appendages appeared around your waist and neck. Effortlessly your hips were lifted off the floor, your cunt on full display to the man who now owned you. The tentacle on your neck slipped between your shoulder blades and pressed your chest firmly to the floor. You squirmed and struggled against the restraints but only accomplished to draw another chuckle from Alastor.
“Relax. We have forever, after all. We can take our time.”
You felt pressure at your entrance, and your pleas to stop were cut short as a shadow tentacle pushed its way inside you. It was cold, but quickly began to warm as your heat enveloped it. Your body was resisting it, too tight to take it all in one thrust, but you could feel it slick against your lips easily enough to make its way inside.
“Ooh, my dear, your wet little cunt betrays you.” He cocked his head to the side, antlers doubling then tripling in size, “Have my words affected you so much?”
You could feel the tentacle’s shape shift slightly inside you as if it were adjusting to you and not the other way around. True to his word, there was no pain except from the burning stretch of your hole against the girth of his shadow self.
Hissing, you thrashed against the sigil, “get OFF OF ME!” Pushing against the floor you barely got your shoulders an inch off the ground when you felt a nth appendage graze sloppily over your clit. You stilled, suddenly remembering your end of the deal. Your promise to the demon now circling your clit with his shadow. If you couldn’t do this, then the entire filming was for nothing.
“Don’t forget to breath. I can’t have you dying on me just yet, sweetheart.” The static was slowly building in the air around you again, a silent threat.
Your hand shot to your mouth, trying to smother the depraved sounds being fucked out of you. The tentacle in your pussy was now ramming against your cervix, curving and bending as it repeatedly forced its way in and out of you. The room was quiet, except for the slick, sticky sound of the tentacle coated in your fluids pulling nearly completely out of you before smashing back in. The pace was slow and cruel, but the pressure on your clit was fast and hard. Your mind was starting come undone, your thoughts splintering. You couldn’t focus on anything anymore, all over your body was pressure, pleasure, massaging, pushing, and pulling.
“Ah ah, that won’t do.” Alastor practically sang the words as an appendage pulled your hands from your mouth and brought them to the small of your back.
You whimpered, trying to find a balance between the overstimulation and the need to not let them see how much you were getting off on this. You needed to hate it more. Hate him more. Your cheek stuck to the wood of the floor as drool leaked from your open mouth, unable to keep it closed any longer.
“I’ll—” Your strength was nearly gone, but you managed to knock your upper body around the sigil, smearing the still wet blood across your chest. You only managed to whisper into the flooring a quiet, “I’ll fucking kill you for this.”
The tentacles stopped, for a second you felt tears sting your eyes at the loss of friction. A loud screech made you wince, but you had no time to question it as your body was violently flipped. Your hips were slammed down onto the ground, held tightly by a tentacle around your waist. The back of your head ached as it was jostled in the turn. The shadows on your thighs now seemed determined to bruise you as they constricted around your skin.
“What was that, dear?” The tentacle in your pussy seemed to swell inside you, the force of the thrusts picking up in intensity. He was ramming into your body with such fervor you felt the skin of your ass chaffing on the wooden grain beneath you. “Speak up, now”, you heard him exhale forcefully, his controlled appearance hanging on by a thread.
“I-”, your mouth opened to continue your resistance when a new sensation stopped you. A second tentacle was trying to squirm its way into your heat, just above the now uncomfortably thick one twisting around inside of you. The pressure on your stomach from the force made you feel sick, but the devoted ministrations on your clit had your legs twitching against the restraints. “Ah–! no, wai-” It managed to slip itself into you, and with no hesitation it was pressing against your g-spot in a matching rhythm to the tentacle swiping over your swollen clit.
You’d never before made a sound like the one that was pulled from your throat. It was ugly and animalistic and took you by surprise. Still struggling to catch your breath, you threw your head back. You were losing control. As your body was rocked against the ground, the blindfold got caught in the friction and slipped down your nose.
Bringing your head back up, you finally locked eyes with your new master.
“Alas-” Another chilly tentacle came to your neck and began to lightly squeeze. You could only breathe out the rest of his name as your eyes met with his. He stood some feet from you, just outside of the sigil, barely on the set at all. He seemed nonplussed, antlers looming over you and suit perfectly neat, except one detail. His pupils dilated when you finally set your eyes onto his. The grip on your neck only stopped tightening when you stomped your foot down in fear of passing out. You didn’t break eye contact, a fire burning in you that told him no matter what he did you wouldn’t be broken. That look in your eyes, the contempt mixed with overwhelming pleasure made Alastor shift one foot in front of the other in an effort to better conceal the erection straining against the zipper of his pants.
“Mmmhhh–” You finally broke contact as your eyes rolled back into your head, the pressure beneath your belly was building, a tightness threatening to snap. But this wasn’t like before, this wasn’t like when you were alone in your bed with your own hand. It felt like too much, your heart was pounding so hard you thought you’d really die. There was no way your body could continue this much longer, your heart would surely give out.
“Please–” You needed him to stop, the ghostly hand on your throat, the two tentacles pressing against your cervix and g-spot, the unrelenting pressure on your clit. It was too much, it was too sensitive. “I’m sorry, please. Pleeea-” you gritted your teeth, thighs twitching as the muscles in your core tightened.
“Going to cum, my little doe?” Through gritted teeth of his own Alastor asked you as if you had any choice in the matter. He forced your knees up to your shoulders, allowing the tentacles to reach new depths.
“AaaaHH” You convulsed, “I’m yours, Alastor!” You moaned, willing to say anything to stop the overwhelming feeling as the coil snapped, you were orgasming on this demon’s shadow and for the love of all that was unholy he wouldn’t fucking let up. You did what he said, but he wasn’t stopping. His thrusts didn’t slow, your clit was throbbing and your body shaking uncontrollably. All defiance was dead, your fire snuffed out. Your eyes were glazed and unfocused. Your head hit the floor again as you struggled to keep your thoughts straight, “It’s all yours. My soul is yours! Please- sto-” Another orgasm was being fucked out of you, no recovery from the first. “I can’t, I can’t” Your jaw locked, the way your cunt was spasming and tightening around his shadow appendages nearly pushed them out of your body with the strength of your first forced orgasm. The lights in the room flickered and popped, the candles blew out with a sudden gust, static drowned out your voice from everyone but Alastor as you screamed through the second orgasm. A green light erupted from the smeared sigil beneath you, blinding the crew and onlookers. “My body is yours! My soul! It’s all yours. I give you all of me, Alastor! Alastor!!” Your vision went spotty, and your throat seemed to close around your voice. Your face was red with the strain of your orgasm. You’d never felt unrelenting pleasure like that before and in that moment you’d have given him absolutely anything he wanted from you. Everything. It was his. You were his. He owned you inside and out.
The bullying of your cunt finally calmed after your orgasm began to edge away, your breath no longer stuck in your throat. He didn’t stop, but he slowed down to a lazy pace as what few lights managed to survive flickered back to life. As your eyes adjusted to the light, you looked over your wrecked body to Alastor. His eyes were wild, his bangs damp and clinging to his forehead. His smile was manic, sinister almost. He looked truly demonic. A wave of fear carried a chill down your spine.
The tentacles withdrew, the sudden loss making you feel colder somehow now than before. They had taken on your own heat and matched your temperature so perfectly, now your body felt empty. You felt naked. Your cunt was still clenching, but around nothing at all. It felt…like something was missing now. Your body seemed to be upset at the loss of contact. It made your stomach turn.
You flinched when the radio demon approached you, but instead of tearing you to pieces like his grin had promised, he slipped his suit jacket off and laid it over your body. You hadn’t realized the dress was torn and lying beneath you in a wet pile of blood and sweat. The confusion must have been evident on your face, because Alastor’s appearance shifted. Antlers now small, if not tiny between his ears. His eyes a red and pink, lids half closed. His smile was just a line across his face, no teeth at all. He looked like a gentleman, had you not known what he had just done to your pussy you’d have thought him incapable of such impropriety.
“Good job, my little doe.” He whispered before you were handed a glass of water by a tall stranger.
“Wow, you’re kind of natural at this babe. I haven’t seen a performance like that in ages. Are you okay?” You took the water from him but didn’t open your mouth to reply, instead transfixed on his appearance. You’d only seen Val and Alastor until now. “You can call me Angel. We’ll get you home soon. I swear.”
Your eyes flitted to Alastor’s, did he know? He must have, he must have felt it. Of course he knew. In those final moments, you hadn’t been acting. Not an ounce of your pleasured responses were disingenuous. Not a single word a lie.
Alastor helped you to your feet as Angel placed a robe over your shoulders. Alastor hummed as he put his jacket back on, a satisfied sound coming from his chest that almost sounded like a song.
Val sat in his director’s chair with his legs crossed, mouth open. His cigarette was mostly ash, delicately lingering on the stub.
Alastor placed a hand on the small of your back as you were guided to the door. Looking over his shoulder he grinned to Val, “It seems our deal is done here, Valentino. She’s mine, in perpetuity.”
(Part two)
༻Masterlist༺
#hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#smut#hazbin hotel smut#alastor smut#radio demon#reader insert#fanfiction#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel alastor x reader#alastor x reader smut#the radio demon#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor x you#alastor#alastor the radio demon#hazbin hotel angel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin alastor#reader#x you smut#x you#you insert#x reader#smut fanfiction#fanfic
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Omg bro yk whats been on my mind for do long?? A demon king trying to court a hero reader. Like the hero has already fought and defeated the king but somehow he comes back and he's desperately trying to get the hero to join him (in more ways than one). He wants the reader to be his spouse and leader of his army against the corrupt human race and the reader (now fallen from stardom due to the evil kings defeat) just wants him gone and to be left alone. Idk if this makes sense but I need to see SOMEONE write abt it before I lose my last marble.
-Doll
This is giving me Dragon Quest vibes, haha. Not a trope I'm too familiar with, but it sounds interesting nonetheless. I shall do my best! Sorry for the delay, I hope it's close to what you imagined. :)
Yandere! Demon King x Hero! Reader
As it goes with villains, they always find a way to return. This time, the Demon King has a different plan in mind. You were prepared for anything, from evil schemes to ancient conjured weapons...except for a wedding ring cordially placed before you. Do you say yes?
Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, 🔥proposal (literally)
[Part 2]
You still remember everything so fondly. How you crawled out of that enormous crater, body battered and weak, as everyone watched in horror and held their breaths. Finally, you raised your fist victoriously. The Demon King had been, at last, defeated. The people cheered and cried and pulled you up under thundering waves of applause. Peace was no longer just a dream.
A sweet, innocent memory, even more so given its fleeting nature. The genuine smiles of gratitude quickly turned into crooked grins asking for favors. Before you knew it, you became some sort of political accessory to convince the masses. Posing for photos, shaking hands, being interviewed with bizarrely planned questions reeking of propaganda. You suddenly felt burdened, heavy, disappointed. This was not the kind of fame you envisioned for yourself.
Thus, you gradually vanished from the limelight, keeping your distance from everyone else and spending most days in solitude. Better than having to look into those unscrupulous, opportunistic eyes measuring up your worth. You had fulfilled your job and purpose.
This morning you're woken up by the sound of your belongings rattling in their shelves. The wooden frame of your bed is creaking, and you struggle to get up. An earthquake? A wave of nausea flushes over you. You recognize this feeling all too well, though you never expected to deal with it again. This is a disaster alright, yet the forces of nature have nothing to do with it.
You rush outside, swinging the door open and nearly tripping in your hurry to confirm your suspicions: the demonic creature is approaching your humble adobe with heavy steps, as the ground crumbles and shatters underneath. The Demon King himself, in flesh and blood. Although the blood splattering his armor is most likely not his. Same for the visceral remains threading his weapon. Regardless, your jaw tightens nervously, and you stand back, in a defensive pose. "You're a stubborn one", you say smugly, trying to maintain your composure. "Can't say I'm a fan of dying, that is correct." A ragged, monstrous voice erupts from the tall, armored figure.
"What brings you back?" You demand. The surroundings are too peaceful for him to have tampered with the city. Did he stop by to formally announce his destruction? "I have an offer that might interest you." The Dark Overlord has closed the distance between you, now looming above your much smaller body. You shiver. "I don't barter with Demons!" You conclude, turning around, prepared to leave. "Even when your precious people are on the line?" The horned beast warns with a grin. "If there's nothing better to do as a Ruler of Realms than killing petty humans..." You swiftly retort, going back into your house and slamming the door shut.
He stands for a moment, speechless. "Y-your Majesty? Should I take care of the humans, or (Y/N)?" Only now he notices his scaly butler, bowing to his side with claws resting over the weapon. The Demon King raises a hand, shooing the servant away. The annihilation of the human race can wait. There are more important matters to deal with presently. He'd expected your rejection, naturally, but not in such fashion. The indifference, the flat voice, the empty eyes devoid of emotion. Have the city dwellers tampered with his hero? He expected to see your fierce rage and in return he was met with a hollow shell.
Bright blue flames erupt from the openings of his armor, resulting in a menacing show of lights. He's known it for the longest time, of course. Humans are rotten to their very core. Vile, deceitful creatures that have slithered their way up, exuding undeserved arrogance. He's been trying to show you this very fact, yet you were blinded by naive faith. Your unwavering, honest heart that won him over has turned out to be your early demise. Not anymore. His vengefulness knows no bounds when it comes to traitors.
The sudden spike in temperature alerts you. Was it your rudeness that angered the Demon? You don't care anymore. Whatever happens to the city is out of your hands. And yet...you're buckling the straps of your old suit made for battle. Sword in hand, you gaze at your reflection. What could the Beast want? The fortified city no longer holds the value of its olden days. Just like you've left your hero days behind. Without much contemplation, you run out and head for the main gates. The path is paved with ash and rubble and your grip on the weapon tightens. Regret immediately wells up in your chest, ready to burst out. Is it too late? The entrance is engulfed in fire, charred corpses toppling against the ruins of the walls.
You reach the town hall - or rather, what remains of it - and face the Demon King. Has he gotten stronger since your last encounter? You hold your breath as the horned monster turns towards you. "I've tried to tell you, again and again. Time after time." He sighs, defeated. "Between the two of us, I'd say you were the stubborn one all along." His voice is softer than what you would've expected from someone that had just massacred an entire settlement. There's not a single scratch or sign of struggle. Was he merely holding back during your last fight? One thing is certain: you're his final obstacle. You raise your sword, determined. Hot sweat trickles down your face as the flames surround you. "Well, at least you've convinced yourself now, I hope. There's nothing left for you here." The Demon King lowers himself, extending a fist towards you. A spell? Secret weapon? Your leg muscles contract in anticipation.
His fingers open and stretch out, slowly. In his palm, a barely noticeable ring. Given the ridiculous size difference, you assume this is better fitting for a human. You stare at it in confusion, discerning the wedding vows carved in the noble metal. "What's the meaning of this?" You mutter, glancing at the Beast now resting on one knee before you. "What? Is it not your human custom?" He looks away for a moment, clicking his tongue. "That useless butler. He told me- Forget it! You are to return with me to my Kingdom. As my spouse."
Of all the things you've prepared yourself for...Your brows furrow and your mouth hangs open in shock.
What is your answer? The Demon King will not leave empty-handed.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x darling#yandere headcanons#yandere imagines#yandere scenarios#yandere monster#yandere monster x reader#monster x reader#monster x human#yandere demon king#yandere male x reader#gender neutral reader#monster romance#monster boyfriend#yandere oc
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