#so many feels the body can’t compute
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sorry babe but you’re not an empath if you don’t have acne prone skin 😌🫠
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Wherever you go, I won't be far to follow
Parings: Creepy!Vox x GN!reader
Summary: Vox is obsessed with you and he uses his VoxTek to stalk you
Word count: 1437
Warnings: Obsessive behaviour, one mention of Vox getting a hard-on, Vox being delusional, jealousy, k*lling, Vox jerking off
A/N: First time writing for Vox!! I got this idea from some amazing person on discord:’) I immediately went insane w the idea and had to write it up
“I can’t get them out of my HEAD!” He yells angrily, banging his fists on the table.
Valentino and Velvet have noticed his behaviour towards you and tried to talk sense into him.
“They’re nothing special, Vox! Just another sinner. Get over them.”
“You tell us to not ruin our reputation but look at you. You’re a mess.”
“Maybe just.. go talk to them? Instead of being a fucking creep.”
Vox doesn’t listen. He wants to know what you’re doing 24/7 and who you’re doing it with. He has cameras set up everywhere. In your room, bathroom, hotel (as you’re currently living at the hazbin hotel), the street lights. Absolutely everywhere. He doesn’t want to meet you just yet, not until he learns everything about you so he can charm you off your feet.
You don’t even know him. You’ve heard of him through hell, yes. But you’ve never actually seen him face to face. Alastor has told you all that he isn’t anything to worry about, in which you believe him. Apparently he owns all the electronics in hell or something like that? You’ve seen posters of him and you think it’s kinda neat how he has a full on tv head as a face. But other than that, you never gave much thought to him.
———————————————————————
Today was just another day. You woke up, took a shower, went downstairs to have breakfast, and hung out at the hotel. Nothing of which you thought anything of, it’s just a normal boring day.
But Vox on the other hand thought differently. He thought everything you did was the most exciting, interesting thing ever.
“Oh! Fuck fuck fuck, they’re waking up.” He says, getting closer to one of the MANY tv screens he has in this room.
He looks at you in awe, touching the tv screen gently.
“So fucking cute when they’re waking up. Look at them, my god.” He whispers.
He watches you as you get out of bed, yawning. Watches you get undressed, and into the shower.
“Such a perfect body. I’d treat you so right. Better than anyone else could.” He says as he watches you wash yourself. He feels himself get a hard-on, but ignores it. He needs to have all his attention on you.
Watching you shower, learning your routine and what product you use, he stores all the information in one of his computer folders.
After you get out, he watches you choose what clothing to wear.
“Aww, that’s my favourite top on you.” He says in awe.
Then, you go downstairs to eat and hangout with your fellow hotel members.
Vox knows all your favourite foods and least favourite foods, to when you come over to live with him one day. He wants everything to be perfect. You wouldn’t have to lift a finger.
“You’re gonna haaavee..” He starts while you’re picking out what to eat.
“Fruit with cereal!” He shouts just as you pick it up.
“HAHA! Fucking knew it.” He says.
After you eat, he watches you interact with people.
He hates it. Hates when you talk to other people. What if they get too close to you? What if you like them more than him? So many thoughts cross his mind.
“Oh don’t you dare talk to-“ He starts while you’re walking up to Alastor.
You start talking to Alastor about something and Vox’s eye twitches.
He remains keeping his cool, but inside he wants to march over there and take you away. But he can’t do that, can he? That would be a horrible first impression! Even though he’s sure you’d fall for him in no time, he can’t risk it.
Right now, you’re sitting on a chair, scrolling through your phone.
Of course, Vox has hacked your phone too. He has another tv in which he can see exactly what you see.
He’s intently watching you play Angry Birds, when an ad comes up. Not just any ad, but a VoxTek ad.
You’re intrigued because this is the “Vox” you’ve heard of. You click it and Vox almost falls over.
“OH MY GOD. YOU-“ He scrambles to get as close as possible to the screen.
You start scrolling through the VoxTek website. It seems pretty cool, honestly. There’s a lot of “Trust us.” quotes, which you find kinda suspicious. But nonetheless, you’ve been wanting a new laptop since yours broke a while back. Why not give it a go?
You find a good priced laptop that actually seems like it’ll work really well, so you decided to buy it online.
Vox’s eyes widen.
“YOU- I-“ He stares in shock. You bought something from HIS website. You KNOW about him, it’s confirmed now.
He has the great idea to hand-deliver you the laptop. That’s a great first impression isn’t it?
He jumps up and goes to put on his best outfit. Making sure he looks 11/10. He cleans his screen, puts a mint in his mouth, and walks to the room where they keep all their product, finding the one you ordered.
He looks to his right, seeing the one you ordered, but then he looks down and sees one that’s 10x the money you paid for that one, and it’s their BEST laptop. It has so many features that he knows you’ll use. It’s their most high end product. He’s gotta give you that one instead. You deserve it.
He picks it up and puts it into a box, sealing it and putting a nice red bow on it. He kisses it and walks out.
“Vox? Where are you going? You’re looking quite fancy.” Valentino stops him as he’s about to walk out of the building.
“Oh nowhere!” Vox answers as he walks out. He doesn’t want Val to give him a hard time about this.
Val looks in question, but just walks off.
As Vox is walking to the hotel, he’s rehearsing his lines.
“Ah! Y/n. Hello there, I’m here to give you your laptop.” He mumbles. “No that sounds so fucking.. Hi, Y/n! Here’s your laptop.”
He mumbles a bunch of fraises when finally, he arrives on the doorstep.
He adjusts his bow tie and takes a deep breathe, knocking on the door.
You perk up at a knock on the door, you’re the only one at the hotel right now, other than Niffty. You go to answer it, wondering who it’ll be.
As you open the door, Vox’s heart stops.
It’s.. Vox? That tv guy! That’s weird, you literally just ordered a laptop from his site about 20 minutes ago.
He’s staring at you, mouth open.
“Uh.. hello?” You say with a questionable tone.
“Oh! Oh, shit. Hi! I’m here to hand deliver you that laptop you ordered.” He chuckles. “Well, actuallyyy, I got you a better one.” He whispers that last part.
You’re very confused. Do they hand deliver every laptop that someone buys?
“Oh um.. thank you! Thanks a lot.” You say, reaching out to take the box.
“Oh of course!” He says with a smile, handing it over to you.
“Do you like the bow? I picked it out just for you, Y/n.” He says.
You feel a weird sensation in your stomach when he says your name. How’d he..? I guess you have to put your name in the website when you order it. So that’s probably how he knows your name!
“Oh yeah! It’s.. a great bow.” You chuckle awkwardly.
You stand their in silence as he’s looking at you, seemingly so to be admiring you.
He realizes this is probably weird for you and takes a step back.
“Well! Haha. It was nice to meet you.” He says with a smile, sticking out his hand for you to shake.
Adjusting the box to hold it with one hand, you take your other one and shake his hand. As you do, you feel an electric shock.
“S-sorry about that.” He says, pulling his hand away.
“Oh it’s alright, don’t worry!” You answer, finding it kinda interesting.
Vox’s internal monologue is screaming. He just TOUCHED your hand. He’s never washing this hand. Ever.
He doesn’t want to leave but he knows he overstayed his welcome. It doesn’t matter though, he will see you again soon. There will be more meetings, more and more and more until you beg to see him.
“Cya, Y/n!” He waves at you, walking away with a satisfied smile.
“Bye!” You say, walking inside.
He goes home and jerks off to the hand you touched, moaning your name and cumming all over himself.
He’s got it bad for you.
#:vox#my works#hazbin hotel#vox#vox x reader#hazbin hotel vox#vox hazbin#vox hazbin hotel#vox habin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#vox x you#vox imagine#vox smut#dark!vox#vox hazbin x reader#vox x reader hazbin hotel
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Yandere Ghost Smut
afab reader ; nsfw
“This house is totally perfect! You’ll love it,” is what your realtor told you when they finally found a house within your budget. You loved the aesthetics of historical homes, so when they discovered an older house that not only was in your price range, but had just minor damages, they called you immediately.
You moved in within the month. It didn’t take long to settle into your new home. There was a room with shelves meant for books, and you spent most of your free time there, enjoying the books from your collection that could rival a library. Sometimes, you would feel a sudden chill in the air when reading, and grow pensive. It would feel like someone was watching you. But besides that, nothing was out of the ordinary. You just assumed you were too stressed out and growing paranoid as a result. Everything was fine.
Well, it was. Until you started waking up with strange markings on your body. You woke up one day in a cold sweat, waltzing into the bathroom to wash your face off, only to find what looked like hickeys on your neck and upper chest area. Weird. Did you have bugs in the bed? Was it an allergic reaction to the new detergent you bought for the sheets? You had no idea.
You were never able to solve the issue because the markings disappeared within a few hours, and didn’t come back again. Once more, you shrugged it off and assumed nothing was amiss.
Yet eventually, things got even stranger. Your panties started disappearing one-by-one, and you were sure you hadn’t misplaced them. Specifically, your already worn undergarments would disappear from the dirty laundry bin before you could wash them. What the fuck?
“I don’t know, Mary,” you call your best friend one afternoon, “I feel like this place is haunted. And what’s even weirder is I keep getting these wet dreams…like every night. I’m not even sexually frustrated so I don’t know why I wake up wet or with markings on myself.”
“Maybe you got a ghost fucking ya?” She jokes around and you both get a laugh out of that. But for some reason, the deepest part of your being can’t dismiss that thought.
You begin to grow paranoid and start searching for any signs in your house that someone else is living with you. You decide to enter the dusty attic, and find rather antique furniture and a box containing a photo of a man and a woman. He was handsome, albeit a little creepy looking, but what struck you as odd was woman next to him. She looked eerily like you. You brought the photos downstairs to do some research on your computer, but alas, found no information on the man or the woman. The only thing you found out was that there was a fire that had damaged the property all too many years ago. You felt the creepy sensation of being watched again, and called it quits for the night, opting to get some much needed rest.
That night, you saw him.
————————————————————
It’s midnight when he appears in your room, watching your beautiful self slumber. You were so perfect, all those years ago when you left him, and even now. He loves the way the sheets drape your body, but slowly peels them off to reveal that you’re in nothing but a bra and panties. There is a slight sheen of sweat on your skin as your eyebrows furrow cutely in your sleep.
His angel must be having a nightmare, but he can take care of that. Gently, he trails his cold fingers over your curves. He admires your beauty, so happy to see you once more. He can’t wait another minute.
While you’re still on your side, he unclasps your bra, relishing the way your tits fall free without the support. They look so beautiful and perfect, he can’t even begin to describe how enchanted you make him feel.
You roll onto your back. He slides your underwear to the side, revealing your pretty cunt to his ghostly eyes. With a delicate touch, he rubs your clit in small circles, playing with you.
You gasp at the touch and he smirks. Your shuffling does little to deter him from his objective.
He’s on the bed with you, intently staring at your lower half. He admires your folds and moves them open and closed with his fingers, revealing a leaking hole that was your wetness. With a gulp, he slides your underwear off you, wadding it into a ball, burying his face into it as he takes a whiff of your scent. He’d be tasting the real thing soon enough. Once satisfied, he pockets your undies for safe keeping. He tilts his head down to your lower body, shifting into a more comfortable position. With a breath of anticipation, he slithers his cold tongue over your vagina, moaning slightly at the sensation.
He’s been doing this every night he could manifest, and it never got tiring.
This time, and he doesn’t know why, you wake up, staring down at the mysterious man in terror as he laps you up like a man thirsting in the desert. You mean to run but you can’t move. You feel something cold and wet tying your body to the bed. You try to close your legs from your violator, but his icu hands grip firmly on your thighs, keeping them wide open for him to shove his face between.
Under the moonlight, the two of you make eye contact but he doesn’t stop, instead opting to send you a wicked smile. “Good morning, love,” he says gently from beneath you. “I missed you so, so much. You know that?”
You’re in a state of shock, words screaming in your head but not quite reaching your vocal chords. The only sound you can make is a whimper as he shoves his tongue further into you, his nose rubbing you causing further pleasurable friction. He sucks, licks, and rolls your clit with his tongue.
Suddenly, he slides a cold finger into your hole and you gasp, arching your back only to be stuck back down again. “Don’t move, pretty thing,” he scolds you.
“F-fuck,” you finally manage to whisper, heart racing, “Who are you?”
“Someone who’s been watching you for a very, very long time.” He’s stopped licking you, instead moving to pump another finger into your pretty cunt, thrusting in and out at a moderate pace. His eyes show so much love, desperation, and lust in them that you have no idea what to do or where to go. Then it clicks. The man from the photo. That’s who he was. How could that be possible? Was he an actual ghost?
“I’ve been so lonely without you, princess. When you left me to burn, do you know how heartbroken I was? But now you’re back, and we can finally be together again. I’m not letting you leave me another time.”
He now has three fingers inside of you, picking up the pace. The lewd sound of slick fingers sliding in and out of your cunt drives him wild. His face is back between your thighs again, lapping you up and suckling on you until you’re visibly shaking.
“Aw, sweet girl. Gonna cum?”
You don’t want to, but you feel something hot and heavy coming.
“Shit. Cum in my mouth, sweetheart. Wanna taste everything you got.” He latches back onto you.
Your stomach drops and you let go, mind very distressed but body obviously in heaven. Your pussy spazzes out on him and he moans as he licks up the mess you leave behind. With a wipe of his mouth he grins, eying you like a rare prize he had just one at the fair.
He grabs onto you, embracing you in a hug you can’t run away from. Seriously, why can’t you move? He notices your struggles and laughs, snuggling into your chest.
“Ah ah ah, no running away, love. I’ve waited so long for you. You’re not going anywhere.”
He flips you to where you’re face down, ass up. Your vagina is dripping, juices sliding down your thigh. He licks his lips before biting his lower one, admiring the roundness of your ass and your now puffy and pink pussy.
“Oh, love. You got no idea what you do to me…”
You feel something cold and hard tap the entrance of your walls, and you freeze. Oh god, was he going to fuck you? His hands are on the sides of your ass, but you feel another set of cold hands grabbing your arms, and even another pulling at your tits. You whimper at the overstimulation.
“Enjoy the hands. They’re all me.”
Before you can reply, he’s sliding his dick through your entrance. Your pussy quivers at the sensation and he laughs. “Did you just come from that, love?”
Once you take all of him, he leans forward to whisper in your ear. “I want to hear you moan, sweetheart. Go on, make some noise for me.”
As he’s taking you from behind, a hand shoves its fingers into your mouth, and you gag on it. The sets of hands on your breasts are now fondling them, pinching and squeezing. You’ve never felt so much at once before, and you eventually yield to the pleasure, moaning as he thrusts into you.
“That’s it, baby. Take it. Take it all. You’re fucking mine,” He snarls, and you whine at how hard he’s pounding into you, ferocity now evident in his demeanor.
You slurp and suck on the fingers, only for it to pop out of your mouth and slide into your ass instead. You cry out at the sensation. A hand is sliding circles around your clit as he fucks you, sending waves of pleasure over your body you’ve never known before.
“Too much!” You cry, sobbing with pleasure.
He gives you a kiss on the neck. “Almost done, love. Just keep taking it, okay? You’re doing so good for me. God, you’re fucking perfect.” His thrusts became sporadic, and you know he’s close.
In the end, you come once more, and you feel he does too. When he pulls out, you collapse on the bed, blacking out. Morning eventually comes, and you feel someone is holding you from behind. A set of hands grope your body as you wake up.
“Morning, love. Ready for round two?”
#male yandere#yandere#yandere imagines#yandere scenarios#yandere writing#yandere x reader#yandere headcanons#yandere male#soft yandere#yandere drabble#yandere smut#yandere x you#yandere x darling#smut
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01. sharing a bed series ; skz ; chan
masterlist.
sharing a bed series part 1/8. because it's the cheesiest most classic trope and it's FUN.
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pairing: bang chan/reader
content info: sexual content. friends2lovers, sharing a bed trope. chan's baby girl agenda. accidental boners, horny embarrassed reader. chan is a tease n a dork. :)
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You let yourself into Chan’s room, expecting to find him awake and working despite the hour. Whenever you sleep over, your friend is more than happy to let you sleep in his bed when you can’t get comfy on the couch. Many nights have passed that way, nestled under his blankets and falling asleep to his typing and clicking and absent-minded humming. He likes to work through his nights so you sleep until morning then leave when he turns in.
He must have been tired tonight. His laptop is shut, the room dark save for the flickering lights of his computer station. Chan is in bed already, laying with his back to you and the blankets tucked around him. He is so sound asleep that he didn’t hear your gentle knocks.
You feel bad for disturbing him now. Commandeering his bed is a little different when he is already in it.
You turn to leave when the blankets rustle behind you. Chan’s groggy voice breaks through the silence, a raspy, “Baby girl? That you?”
Maybe it’s the cold floor under your bare feet, maybe it’s the late hour, or maybe it’s the roughness in his voice, but despite how many times Chan has playfully and affectionately called you baby girl, this time a little shiver brushes up your spine.
You turn back around, wrapping your arms around yourself. Thanks to the faint light from his work area, you can see Chan clearly even in the dark. He has rolled onto his back and is rubbing a hand over his face.
“Sorry, Channie,” you whisper. “You sleep. It’s fine.”
His blanket slips down his bare chest and he drops his arm, looking at you with crinkled, sleepy eyes. His curly hair is an endearing mess, though your eyes go a little lower when the blanket falls to his waistline. You quickly look away from his abdomen to his sleepy eyes. He squints at you as he adjusts to the darkness.
“Everything all right?” he asks, still groggy.
“Yeah, don’t worry,” you say, as if that has ever stopped Chan from worrying anyway.
He is a little more awake now, his brow pinching as he looks at you. All at once his face goes slack with realization. A smile pushes at his dimples.
“Right,” he says. “The couch sucks, yeah? Sorry, wasn’t thinking—”
“Don’t apologize,” you say with a little laugh. “It’s your bed.”
“Auuggh,” he says with faux-agony, “I’m such a bad host.”
You cannot hide your amusement, smiling when he slaps a melodramatic hand over his heart. As usual, the goofball makes himself giggle with his dumb little theatrics, the sound twinkling in its delight. Your heart skips a beat.
“All right,” he says. “No worries. Big bed. You wanna share?”
It isn’t really a question because he doesn’t wait for an answer, flipping open the covers for you to slide in.
When you step towards the bed, he throws up a cautionary hand and laughs again.
“Sorry, uh, just wait one second,” he says. “I’m not, uh, technically decent.”
Your eyes drop again. The blankets only just reach his hips and when he shifts to get out of bed, it becomes abundantly clear that Chan is completely naked under the covers. You very nearly choke on your own spit, swallowing hard as your frantic eyes dart around his body.
He is seemingly oblivious to your startled state, turning his back to you as he steps out of the bed. The sheet slips smoothly off his body.
You spin around to give him some privacy. This plan fails spectacularly as his closet door is a big mirror and you end up looking at him through it.
He is nonchalant, walking up to his dresser. You know you shouldn’t stare but you do, eyes on the breadth of his shoulders, the definition of his arms, going down his sturdy back to his ass where you linger a beat longer, then diving down his strong thighs until the view is blocked by his bed. You watch him step into a pair of boxers, doing a little jump before snapping the band around his hips. He turns around and you quickly close your eyes, grateful he cannot hear your heart going a mile a minute.
“All right,” he says pleasantly. “All good now. Come on.”
He gets in the bed first and holds it open for you. He is smiling so sweetly and you feel like the world’s nastiest, horniest monster, gawping at him as you stumble to the bed. You try not to think about how he was naked between these sheets just moments ago.
Somehow, you slide into the bed without making a huge fool of yourself. You even manage to settle down, albeit stiffly. So stiffly that Chan notices and laughs again, that same bubbly giggle as he reaches out to tweak your nose.
“Y’okay?” he asks, his bare face so open and sweet that you melt with both affection and embarrassment.
“Mhm,” you lie. Your heart skips another beat when your leg brushes his under the covers.
“C’mere, silly,” he says, wrapping his arm around you and tugging you across the bed. You go with a squeak of surprise, planting your face in his bare chest. “Better?” he asks.
“Mmmhf.”
It requires some manoeuvring, but you do get semi-comfortable. It is difficult to feel completely at ease when you are also lit up like a firework, very aware of all the places your body is touching his. Your faces are close, your hand on his chest, his hand on your hip. And something else is uncomfortably lodged between your lower halves—
Your mouth rushes ahead of your brain and you say, “Wait, what’s that?”
As if you think he dropped something in the bed between you.
As if that could be anything but his dick.
His startled expression speaks volumes. His nervous, flustered laugh says even more. You have to physically restrain yourself from digging a hole through the bed to die inside.
In your marginal defense, why would you expect Chan to be sporting a semi for no apparent reason? Your shorts are pretty short and you have nothing on under your little tank top, but what sort of crazy wishful thinking is that? That Chan reciprocates all your horny pining?
You suppose there is some hard evidence. So to speak.
“Sorry,” he says, his hand lifting away from your waist. “I didn’t, uh, sorry, wanna make you feel—”
“Oh, no, no, it’s fine, it’s fine,” you say quickly. You feel so, so hot, and you aren’t sure if it’s embarrassment or desire. At any rate, it makes you even stupider. “It’s all good,” you say. “I like it!”
I like it???
He is clearly computing that, looking more confused than embarrassed now.
“You… like it,” he says slowly.
“What I mean by that,” you say, “is that I… like… it.” Nice recovery.
“I see.” He looks amused now, his dimples deepening. “That clarifies things. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Any time.”
“You look a little embarrassed,” he says, touching your chin to tilt your face up to his. It forces you to look directly at him as he studies your expression. His intensity makes thinking of a response impossible. He smiles all-too knowingly at you. “C’mon,” he says, his voice a little lower. “It’s just me, baby girl. You don’t have to be shy.”
Uh oh, you think, looking at his alarmingly competent smoulder, Chan might be secretly evil.
Maybe not secretly. And maybe too affectionate to be pure evil. But he holds your chin and guides your face, turning it away so he can kiss your cheek. Your eyes close and you fight a moan, because moaning at a cheek peck would just be ridiculous.
Then he kisses a spot a little lower on your jaw, then below your ear. His tongue flicks at the shell of your ear at the same time his hand slides under the covers to cup your hip again. You let yourself moan this time, a sweet little hum that he returns when you press yourself closer to him. You feel his dick twitch in his boxers, practically demanding your attention. You let your hand drift downward.
“Can’t believe you’re secretly evil,” you murmur, making him laugh. “Don’t laugh. You are. I hate you.”
“Really?” he says, with all the cockiness of a man who already knows the answer. He doesn’t wait for it, his hand swiftly moving to cup you between your legs. His knuckle rubs softly against your pussy, so hot and wet that he can undoubtedly feel it through the fabric. “Sorry, baby,” he says, very unserious, “but I don’t think all of you hates me.”
“Mean, mean, mean—”
He can’t help but giggle at you, somewhat juxtaposed to the way he is rubbing you through your clothes.
“Damn,” he says, a breathy sound. You are panting against his open mouth already. “Need it bad, don’t you, baby? Who did this to you?”
“Some mean tease,” you say. “Been into him all this time and he never did a thing.”
“What a fucking idiot.”
“Mhm.”
“His loss.”
You both have a stupid little giggle before you finally touch him in return. His breath catches.
Your mouths are close, so close that it makes your clit throb under his knuckle, so close that he is straining the material of his boxers. His hand jumps up, leaving you torturously bereft, but then he slides that hand into your shorts to touch you directly. He kisses you at the same time, swallowing down all your sweet sounds as he licks into your mouth.
“I got you,” he says, a lovely sentiment that is followed by a very hot, filthy lick into your mouth. He moans into it, then kisses you nicely. “I always got you.”
Your hand stutters to a stop because he has you close, so close, so quickly. Your orgasm washes over you with unexpected swiftness, your whole body arching against his as you come.
“That’s it,” he says, his hand steady as he brings you over. “That’s my girl. Got you.”
You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for another kiss. You think about all those cozy nights you spent snuggled up in this spot, the way Chan worries about you no matter what you say, his thoughtfulness and attentiveness and protectiveness.
I got you.
Knowing it’s true, you smile and kiss his smile in return.
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Celeste
FallenAngel!BuckyBarnes x Female!Reader AU
summary: Heaven is not what they tell you. The celestials don’t live in harmony and the devil is not as far as you might think. He’s vicious in his ways to seduce every being - makes even the mighty fall from grace. And one of them happens to be your guardian angel. When James is banished from the heavens, he is forced to amend his sins on earth. What did he do wrong, you might ask? Well, he fell for the one he watched over.
a/n: I thought I’ve read a FallenAngel!Bucky fic on here before. But I couldn’t find it. So please, if you know it, tag me. Anyway, this is my take on the au.
word count: 20.2k (good lord, someone take my computer away)
warnings: this might offend some people (remember this is my fantasy world - I don’t know much about angels and the whole shebang), soulmate trope, the devil, also God?, jealousy/envy, mentions of killing and abuse, banishment and punishments, he falls first (literally lmao), fluff and wholesomeness, agony, angst (of course, with happy end!), smut (wingplay, Bucky‘s got heavenly dick, Virgin!Bucky, size kink, cum play) !MINORS DNI!
ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ
all image credit goes to @animarvelita on TikTok (there's more at the end)
James.
Wake up, James.
Wake up!
The wind hits his lashes before he opens his eyes. He’s falling. He’s falling and there’s nothing he can do.
❁ ❁ ❁
It’s eerie outside, you note as your towel glides over the countertop. The entire window of the diner displays dark clouds. Dark clouds that will soon bring the heavy rain Old Lee has been mumbling about for days now.
Not too many people believe what the crazy farmer says but you can’t help but notice how much he really understands of the world.
Nick hits the little golden bell by the serving hatch and you take the fresh sandwiches to a table by the door.
“Anything else I can get you?”
“We’re good, honey.”
You just nod as your eyes stay focused on the small parking lot outside. You wipe your hands on your apron and return to the counter when the first drop of rain hits the window pane.
❁ ❁ ❁
Branches are aching beneath his weight when he crashes through the trees. A deep thud echoes in the woods as his body hits the ground. It’s raining.
Every tragedy needs rain.
❁ ❁ ❁
"Are you alright, dear?" Peggy, one of the regulars, a wise old lady, asks and points to your hand that's settled above your chest.
You clear your throat. "I'm fine. Just a frog in my throat." You nod with a tight smile. Something seems to have knocked the air out of your lungs. But you've been feeling like you are coming down with something for a few days now.
"Must be the weather," Howard comment's next to Peggy, and his newspaper crumbles beneath his touch.
You turn and refill their coffee mugs. "Yeah... must be." But you can't shake the feeling it has brought to you.
"It's always the weather." Peggy nods before the door to the diner opens and Old Lee enters, his muddy boots dirtying the checkered floors. You scrunch your nose. You'd be the one cleaning that up later, Scott surely won't do it.
"This ain't a normal April storm, folks." His hat tips before he sits at the counter in front of you. "You look like you’ve been trampled by a cow.”
"It's just the weather," you say and place a cup of hot tea in front of him. That's just Stan: brutally honest and strangely right about everything.
❁ ❁ ❁
Pain is strange. His feet get caught in the thorned bushes. Golden blood is the only evidence of his path.
And it’s slowly turning black.
❁ ❁ ❁
The storm outside intensifies, the rain hammering against the diner's windows with an unrelenting force. Old Lee's words linger in the air, stirring a sense of unease among the patrons. You glance outside, noticing the darkness creeping in as if it's swallowing everything in its path.
A shiver runs down your back as you remember how much Pietro would have loved this storm. Your mind drifts back to the memory of him. He always found solace in the chaos of nature, seeing beauty even in the fiercest storms.
But he's is gone now, lost to you in a way that is irreversible. The ache in your chest intensifies as you try to push away the memories, focusing instead on your tasks at hand.
Stan’s voice is low and gravelly when he murmurs again. "You can't outrun the storm, kid. It's coming for all of us, whether we're ready or not."
His words are chilling, but you shake it off, forcing a smile as you refill his tea.
"We'll weather this storm just like we always do." Peggy chimes in as her hand lands on yours with her calming touch. But your heart is hammering in your chest, still. Something feels off. As if a piece fell out of place, waiting to be discovered, and raving to make a mess.
❁ ❁ ❁
It’s cold and muddy here, no comfort in sight. But he’ll venture on until he reaches you. His soul is pulled to your very presence.
He needs to find you. Needs to amend his wrongs. Though is it really wrong to love?
❁ ❁ ❁
It’s dark out when you hang your apron in your locker and wave a short goodbye to Nick. Pulling your coat tightly around you in an attempt to brace yourself for the wind, you step outside into the deluge. The rain lashes against your skin, soaking you to the bone on your walk through deserted streets and cold concrete.
You sigh thinking about everyone that made it home dry, probably sitting in their beds right now, watching the rain roll down their window pane with a hot cup of cocoa in hand.
But that seems to postpone itself, you realize as you abruptly halt. You look around. This isn’t your usual route home. But something pulled you off your intended path and toward an unfamiliar alleyway. Confusion mingles with a strange sense of anticipation as you find yourself drawn deeper into the darkness.
Your head is screaming at you. This is dangerous. You shouldn’t be doing this. Why are your feet moving anyway?
And then you see it. Or rather... him?
A figure stands at the end of the alley, obscured by shadows and rain, but there's something about him that sets your heart racing.
"Hello?" you call out tentatively, your voice barely audible over the storm. You hate how weak you sound.
He steps forward into the dim light, his features illuminated by a flickering streetlamp. Dark hair and a strong yaw, wide muscular shoulders, his arms are adorned by silver cuffs. His whole being is well over six feet. But he seems even taller as something wide reaches from behind him, almost hugging his shoulders and prodding up towards the sky. He steps forward again and your breath hitches in your throat when you can finally make out the grey feathery wings standing from behind his back.
But you don’t run. You don’t even stumble back. Your feet are frozen to the ground. Then his eyes meet yours, and for a moment, time seems to stand still as you’re caught in the intensity of his gaze.
“I’ve been searching for you,” he says, his voice almost like a whisper to the wind. Calling and marvelous.
Everything inside you tells your how absurd this situation is. How fast you should be running anywhere but here right now. But the way your heart races doesn’t feel like fear. In fact, you’re not even scared. More fascinated, awestruck, intrigued. You know he wont hurt you.
“I don’t know you.” You manage to stammer, your eyes still locked with his. The tension overwhelming and electrifying all at once.
“Well, obviously.” He points to his wings smiling amused, a smile that you know holds a universe of secrets and promises. You want to learn them all, you catch yourself thinking as your eyes slip to his lips.
“I don’t understand.”
“You don’t need to understand,” he replies and it’s the first time his wings move behind him. “Just trust that we are connected in ways you cannot even begin to imagine.”
“Well?” You clear your throat and cross your arms in front of your chest, relieved your body is able to move again, though the pose feels rather awkward. “Why are you here?”
He seems shocked for a moment, as if he hadn’t expected you to play along so fast. And, to be honest, neither did you... at least a little.
“I need to...” His mouth falls shut again and he turns his head down to the side, shoulders heaving. “I guess I need a place to stay.”
“With me?” That’s insane. You know it is. But why does it not surprise you?
He nods, you shake your head. “I cant just accommodate a...” You gesture to him and he clears his throat awkwardly.
“Angel.”
“Right, of course.” You chuckle as you scan his body again. Only now do you see the torn clothes and bloody feet. Drenched through and through.
You sigh. “I don’t even know your name...”
His eyes are sparkling, the smallest of twitches making him look a little softer, tangible even. You’re not afraid of him. And it messes with your head. You should be scared, right? But all there is in your body is the steady tingle pinging from your heart back to your stomach.
“It’s James.” His smile is handsome when he reaches out his hands, offering you a better look to his toned arms.
Whywhywhy? “Alright.”
❁ ❁ ❁
James looks out of place in your rather small living room. His size dwarves every piece of furniture carefully picked out to make your house a home. He makes it look like a doll house just by standing in it.
But he doesn’t seem to care. James ducks when he passes through the door and you watch his feathers ruffle as they press themselves to his back in order to fit through.
You’re not sure what to do. Never in your life did you think you would end up in a situation like this. There is no protocol for hosting celestial beings. Though a how to angel dinner party guide would come in handy now. Did he even eat?
Something must be wrong with you. You let a total stranger into your house, even though your track record of people skills is not exactly the best. One that is borderline freakishly tall and has wings. Wings that look soft and beautiful. But strong and kind of intimidating as well. But why does he feel so safe?
“You’re staring.” James notes and a handsome grin spreads across his face.
“I’m not really used to having angels in my house to be honest.” The sarcasm is dripping from your tone in subtle undertones. But James seems to enjoy it. “Why are you here? On earth... I mean.”
He stares at the ceiling and his wings sag a little. “I have a mission, dearest.” He tells and his eyes meet yours. They’re deep blue and stormy - just like the sky. You can see yourself falling lost in them. His presence is all-consuming, making you shiver. It reminds you that the both of you are drenched from the rain. A puddle has formed around your feet and James’s wings guide the water droplets to your hardwood floor in two perfect circles. His hair is curling at the ends, in the nape of his neck and the water is also running down his throat, pooling in the remains of his shirt.
“What mission?”
“I cannot tell you yet.”
You nod, even though you don’t understand. But you don’t want to pressure him. “Do you need a shower? Or... clean clothes?” The second you ask you feel stupid. It’s silly right? Why shouldn’t angels shower?
Then again, the way he looks at you is one of surprise. “Yes, that would be good.”
“Good. Yes.” With a sigh you flee through the hallway to your room in search for some clothes.
❁ ❁ ❁
A shower. James is giddy. Human things have always excited him. He has been watching from the heavens for eons, never truly experienced them quite like this. But he’s intrigued. Especially when you offer them to him like he’s not an intruder in your life.
If things were different, you would never know he even existed. But James is guilty of happiness that he gets to meet you in person.
Up close, you’re even more perfect. You smell nice, your home feels cozier than anything he’s ever experienced, and your voice sounds just a sliver more comforting when its directed at him.
He is smiling like a fool, standing in your living room - the one he knows by heart but so much more personal now. And when you return to him with a pile of grey cloth, his heart skips a beat. You bring him the familiar warmth that made him fall in the first place. But having you within an arm’s length makes all of it feel worth it.
There is not an ounce of regret in him for being here.
Electricity shoots up his arm when you touch his hand. It’s cold and wet - he immediately vows to always keep you warm from now on - makes it his purpose to have you be comfortable for the rest of your life.
You lead him to the bathroom, grinning sheepishly when you gesture toward your shower.
“It might be a tight squeeze.” You point at the glass surrounding your bathtub. “But it’s all I can offer.”
“It will do just fine.” He reassures you.
“I will leave you to it then.” James is confused.
“Are you not staying?”
“Sorry?”
“To help me.”
“Help you... shower?” There is hesitance in your tone, but James truly doesn’t know how to turn the thing on.
“Well, yes.”
“I...” Your eyes are big, staring up at him through surprise and nervousness. “I don’t want to intrude. Give you some privacy to- oh.”
His clothes are already on the floor. He knows this much. Shower is something one does naked. But you seem to be shocked when his whole body is revealed to you. Do you like it? James is sure he looks as close to a human as a person with wings can. So why are you still staring at his stomach?
His eyes catch yours as they move a little lower, your eyebrows raising just that much higher and a smirk places itself on his face. So, you do like what you see. He confirms silently. Not that he particularly knows why. He never noticed people by their bodies - only their soul, because that is the important thing - the one that never changes.
And yours is the most enchanting of them all.
❁ ❁ ❁
You watch as James sit’s down on the opposite end of the sofa. He’s declined every offer you have made for him to feel a little more welcome. But he seems content. His smile hasn’t left his lips ever since you led him to the bathroom.
You couldn’t help but notice his body when he revealed it all to you. It’s like every inch of him is carved by the gods. He looks soft in the right parts, strong enough not to be skinny with his height. And his male parts. Well, they look more than satisfactory.
You felt like a pervert staring him up and down while he stood there with this kind of proud innocence to him, wondering if he understood how proud he could be of his looks. There is so much you don’t know about him. It’s not like you haven’t talked.
You have. But he speaks in riddles.
“You are staring again.” James notes and you immediately snap your head elsewhere.
“I’m just figuring this situation out, I guess.”
He smiles encouragingly. “You can ask questions. I imagine you’ve been eager to know more.”
You exhale long, taking courage to look him in the eyes. “And you will answer all of them honestly?”
“Honestly, yes.” His teeth find his bottom lip and you squeeze your thighs together. “I cannot promise to answer them all.”
“Okay.”
“Good.”
A comfortable silence settles between you as you think of the first thing you could ask him. Maybe you should get the most obvious one out of the way. Maybe you should ask him more about himself, though you’re not sure how personal he can get if he spent his entire life in heaven. You just assume there is too much to do to pursue actual hobbies and such.
“Is there a God?”
“Starting with the light questions, I see.” You just look at him with intrigue. Already lining up all the other questions no-one else in this world has the opportunity to have answered. James sighs and then nods. “Yes, God exists.”
“Do you know God?”
He hesitates, his eyes fleeting to the end of the room and then back to you. “Yes.”
“Why did that answer take you so long?”
His jaw tenses and his eyes find the floor as if he was cursing himself for offering this situation. But then again, you haven’t heard him cuss once. Maybe you’re wrong. “It was under rather... unfortunate circumstances.”
You nod as if you understand. But you can only imagine. “So, he’s like the big boss, only getting involved when things escalate?”
James looks caught, his wings draw in closer. After a moment, he clears his throat and his feathers ruffle with a small shake. “First of all, it’s she/they. And second, ... I guess you could say that, yes.”
“I knew it.” You grin as the pride washes over you at this information. “Why did she never correct us?”
“Let’s just say mankind doesn’t have a great track record of enforcing things that go against their believe... Not that it would be believable if someone told the story of meeting an angel who told them God is a woman.”
“Fair point. That person would have probably been burnt alive.” You nod again, crossing your legs and turning to him on the sofa. James takes a moment to rake his eyes over your body, making you feel tingles all over. You clear your throat. “Speaking of torture... Why do we have war and world hunger?”
“Please do not take this the wrong way. Those are issues that very much concern God or anyone that want’s the best for her people, but she’s busy. She manages everything else that has gone south since.”
“Since what?” You partly enjoy the way James talks to you as if you are an insider, but you only understand half of what he’s saying.
“Since she and Lucifer had a big fallout.” He shrugs, but it just adds to your confusion.
“I’m not following.”
He rolls his eyes as if it were your fault you don’t know about this supernatural fight. “They had a disagreement. Lucifer’s response to God’s proposal was an ill-conceived frivolity which ended up becoming the patriarchy.”
To say you’re stunned is a serious understatement. “You’re telling me the devil threw a tamper tantrum and that’s why we have inequality? How did he even do that?”
James shakes his head. “...Yes. The trial is still in progress. But it may be calming to know that we have not figured out exactly how he convinced an entire species of males being the stronger part of it.”
“No, James. It is not calming to know.” You sigh and watch as he clasps his hands in his lap, his cuffs glistening in the lamplight. God, they’re big. You immediately scold yourself for thinking this, feeling weirds as the words of your mother echo in your head ‘Don’t you dare use God’s name in vain’. “What exactly has God done since then?”
The smile returns to his face and you readjust yourself on the sofa. “Oh, you wouldn’t want to know how this world would look if she hadn’t kept busy with sorting it.”
Your nose wrinkles in a frown, as you check the points off in your head. “I really don’t think it can get that much worse. Climate change, mass genocides, what else could there be?” You not at each one just as James lifts up his fingers and opens his mouth as if he is starting to count.
But you stop him. “Pease don’t.”
“Yes that is probably for the best.”
It is silent for a moment as you try to process all the information you have just attained. It is a rather weird feeling. Knowing you know what no-one else on earth does and not being able to tell. Knowing there will be no-one believing you.
You sigh when your head starts spinning from how crazy this day has been. James seems to be rather relaxed considering he barely knows you. His dark hair falls around his face perfectly, the back of it forming a cute curl in the nape of his neck and your fingers itch to touch it.
But you refrain, reminding yourself that he is a stranger - and an angel. Beside the fact that he has not once reached out to you, just randomly touching his hair would probably be the weirdest thing to do right now.
“Can I ask you something?” He suddenly breaks the silence and you shoot a thank you to the sky for saving yourself from going down the mental rabbit hole of how soft his hair looks.
“Yes.”
“Why did you take me in?” James’s eyes are boring into yours so innocently. If it weren’t for the giant wings on his back, he would almost look like a normal clueless and incredibly cute guy. And yet he just revealed outerworldly gossip as if you were discussing the latest celebrity TMZ.
“I-“ you trail off, thinking about it for a while. You aren’t sure how much you can tell him. But James has been genuine from the start. It wold only be fair to do the same. “I felt like you needed me.”
A weird feeling takes over your body suddenly. Like a warm flush rushing through you. James fidgets in your peripheral and nods in understanding. “I did. I do.”
It’s like the reality of it all hits you like brick when a noise sounds from outside and his wings twitch, pushing over a pile of books on the cupboard behind the sofa. This is not normal, something tells you, and yet your stomach flutters in a way that feels a lot like butterflies. Everything about James is fascinating to you. You constantly fight the urge to reach out and brush your fingertips over every part of him. And for some reason, your mind tries to tell you that he would let you.
“Why are you really here, James?” You voice is only a whisper when the rattling outside subsides. It’s probably a raccoon or something. But James looks a little nervous all of a sudden.
“I’m afraid that is one thing I cannot tell you, love.”
You sigh. “I guess... I just want to help. Having you stay here doesn’t feel like it’s enough. There has got to be something you need to do.”
“That is very kind of you. I admire your bravery and openness.” His lips spread into a smile, his hand lifting from his lap as if he is about to place it on yours, but his fingers only strech and land back on the sofa between you. “But to be truthful, even if I knew what I had to do, I am not sure wether I would do it or not”
So he is a little deviant. You smile at the small observation. Maybe it’s the reason he is here in the first place. But you feel like you have asked James enough for tonight. Just on cue, a yawn escapes your lips.
“You should rest. It has been a long day.”
You nod, rubbing your eyes and rising from the soft cushions. “I have a spare bedroom. You can sleep there.”
“That is fine. I do not sleep.” James shakes his head as he rises with you out of curtesy. With his hands clasped in front of him he looks like a goth painting.
“What? Never?”
“I am not human, dearest. My body attains energy in different ways.” You shudder again, blaming it on your sleepiness as you rub your arms when another yawn escapes you.
“Maybe you can tell me about it tomorrow. I am really tired.”
“I will be watching over you.” Your name passes his lips like a song, sending another shiver through you. What the hell is the matter with you. You huff as you catch yourself again. It really never occurred to you how often you referenced to the supernatural... “Take all the rest you can get.”
“Good night, James.” You nod and wave awkwardly.
“Good night.”
You know James’s eyes are only you until you disappear into the hallway. But you cant help but feel safely watched over with him around.
❁ ❁ ❁
They will find him, and they will send him further from you than he ever was.
❁ ❁ ❁
James hates the days you have to leave for work. He watches you with a sense of longing and resignation, knowing that he must find a way to navigate this separation once again. Though it is necessary he find a way to dodge the inevitable.
It’s the vexing thing about the celestial kingdom. They always leave one to find the laws on their journey. There is no book he could read on earth that could help him here. But he has seen the repercussions of disobedience, felt the weight of his transgressions bearing down on him like a heavy chain.
And yet, as he watches you prepare to leave for work, a sense of desperation gnaws at him from within. He wants to reach out, to beg you to stay, to keep you safe from whatever dangers may lurk beyond the safety of your home.
But he knows he can't. He's bound by duty, by the laws of God that dictate his every move. And so, with a heavy heart, he watches silently as you gather your things and head out the door, leaving him alone once more.
As the door closes behind you, James is left with nothing but the echoes of your footsteps fading into the distance. He knows he should use this time wisely, to prepare for whatever trials may lie ahead, but his thoughts are consumed by you, by the overwhelming need to protect you at all costs.
❁ ❁ ❁
There’s and angel in your home. And he’s so freaking attractive, it’s unfair.
It has been a week since you found James. And despite the incredibly irrational decisions of yours to invite him into your home, nothing bad has happened to you. Sure, the first night you might have dreamt about him. He’s everything your fantasy books described an more. And you couldn’t help but let that tiny romantic sliver of you hope for the more.
But James is more pious than any catholic boarding school kid you’ve ever met.
He seems to enjoy a good joke and he’s quite confident. But he never once touched you. And while that should not be one of your first concerns, considering he’s a stranger and an angel, something inside you tells you he’s holding back.
He never even flinches when you reach out to him. And the longing stares he sends your way make you shiver with anticipation. Yet there is no attempt to ever pull you in - even though you are so sure you were sending signals.
Maybe there are no signals in heaven. What are you even saying? Of course there are no signals in heaven. You don’t even believe dating exists up there.
“Yo, whaddup with ya today? I’ve been calling your name for a solid minute.”
“Sorry. Feeling a little off today,” you mumble to Nick and retrieve the food waiting in the serving hatch.
“You can’t go home. I don’t wanna serve alone today.”
“Scott, there’s literally no-one here.” You gesture toward the few people sitting in their booths and sigh. “Besides, I never said I was going home.”
“Don’t get mad. You barely texted me back this week. What’s so awesome about your home when I’m not there with you?” You feel the heat rising to your head at Scott’s comment. “You’d think she’d call me if she ever needed to hide something.” He mumbles to Nick who just laughs and flips a pancake.
You turn to him with your fists by your side. “The weather is weird and cold, can’t I need a little down time?”
“Not from me!” Scott looks baffled. He’s your friend, and yes, you had other things to worry about than be on your phone this week. But you also knew he wouldn’t understand.
“You’re being a real pain in my ass today, Scotty.”
“Good, so everything’s back to normal then.”
You throw a towel in his face. “Shut up.”
“Cut it out, you two, there’s customers.”
Scott resumes to the back, effectively dodging his work and leaving you to serve the new customer. But your breath hitches in your throat when you look up from the counter.
James is standing in the door, already drawing looks of attention from a few people. He’s smiling back at them, even waving at a child before his eyes meet yours and your heart sets off again. It seems to always do that when he’s close.
You rush toward him, wrapping your fingers around his cuffed wrist and he audibly exhales.
“You can’t be here.”
“Why not?”
“Because-“ you lean in closer and James bows down to get his face to your level. “You’re and angel.” You mutter under your breath and the sexy smile returns to his perfect lips.
“And how would they know that?” His eyebrow raises.
“You-“ you lean back, examining his shoulders - only then noticing that his wings are not there anymore. “How?”
“I only show myself to truly important people.” He winks and you stumble back a little, his sudden boldness making your legs feel like jello.
“What are you doing here?”
James looks around the diner as though he has not planned this far. His eyes swerve to the counter and then back to you. “I want to watch you work. I enjoy spending time with you.”
“But you can’t be here without ordering.”
“Then I will oder.”
“You don’t eat, James. Do you even have money?”
That seems to surprise him. “No.” You shake your head and look at the tiled floor. James’s wrist is still wrapped in your hand but there is no attempt to hold you. So you drop it. Why did he even come here when he won’t touch you?
“Please, beautiful. Let me stay.” His eyes are genuine, his lips purse in a plea. All you can think about is how weirdly lucky you are that this Adonis of a being chose you for his quest.
You bite your lip and watch him shudder. “Alright. Just sit by the counter and try to be inconspicuous.”
His smile spreads wide. “I’ll be as invisible as the air you breathe.”
You exhale and get back to work but unfortunately, his promise doesn’t last long. Before you know it, Peggy has chosen the seat right beside James. She’s leaning over to him at the counter and Howard just sits beside them with his newspaper in hand - as always. James seems just as invested in the conversation as Peggy and as you steal glances over to the pair of them, insistently hoping he won’t spill about his identity, you catch James’s eyes lingering on you.
“You are a fine young man, James.” Peggy's hand lands on his, tapping it in a grandmotherly manor, though her eyes are glinting with something akin to longing. She whispers something into his ear you cant make out and James’s eyes shoot to yours, his face tinting rouge from one ear to the other.
“And you are a remarkable lady, Peggy,” he clears his throat, his mind seemingly wandering elsewhere. “You remind me of a girl a friend of mine was in love with once.”
“Then he must have been the happiest man to ever live.”
Peggy’s hands tremble when she reaches for her cup of tea, her red lipstick taint the white porcelain as James watches her movements with a soft stare. He looks so protective of her, it makes your insides tingle. “He truly is, though he seems like he has forgotten about it lately. Is this your husband?” He gestures to Howard, who just slams the newspaper down in front of him, blank eyes staring at James while Peggy laughs and waves her hand dismissively.
“This rascal?” She presses her hand to her chest as she tries to calm down. “No, dear. My husband died a long tome ago.” She smiles warmly, floating in melancholy when she continues, “I never loved another man since. He was a heaven sent. Strong, kind, always worked towards the greater good... and his looks were to die for, too.” She winks and James chuckles.
“Oh I wish a love like that to everyone. Promise me something, James.”
“Anything.”
“If your find it, never let it go.” Her hand clasps around his biceps, her tone a motherly sternness laced with affection.
James eyes you again and it feels as if the air is shifting with tension. “My word is in God’s name, Peggy.”
❁ ❁ ❁
James feels the repercussions of his being on earth stronger every day. In heaven, he was miserable because he had to watch you live your life without him. On earth, he’s in agony because he knows, if he ever were to touch you, he would cease to exist.
It’s slanted. He gave up everything coming here and despite the fact that his wings stopped working the second he fell from the sky, he categorizes the uncertainty eating away at him as even worse. Hanging in limbo is more troubling than actually going to hell, he is sure of it.
He watches you move about your house with the same longing look torturing his features since he realized how much he needed you. It’s laughable how dependent on you he has become. While you go about your life with the minor change of having a roommate, James despises the unforgeable distance heaven has created between you.
You are friendly with him - you are friendly with everyone. James would even go as far as to say that you two are friends by now. But he wants so much more. So much more he cant tell you because even if you did know about his feelings, there is nothing either of you could do about it.
James sighs standing from the sofa, ducking his head when he passes through the doorway to you. You never questions when he just follows you around. The soul bond probably keeping the curiosity at bay if it feels anything like his experience. It feels good for no explicit reason.
You sort some bowls in your cabinet as he stands behind you, offering to place the ones higher up so you don’t have to struggle too much. “What’s heaven like, James?” You ask innocently through your movements. “Are there pearly gates and fluffy clouds?”
James loves when you say his name. It makes him feel closer to you than ever before. In a way, he equates it with your touch. Just as his saying your name is his way of reaching out to you.
“More like endless paperwork and celestial coffee breaks.” Coffee breaks. He learned about those a while ago and he loves the concept. “But hey, the views are to die for.” He gets lost in your eyes, remembering how much more distant they felt when he was watching from above and he is thankful to be this close to you now.
You smile smugly, and thats when the heart race sets in again. He’s sure you feel it too. Because your eyes avert and your hand places itself atop your chest.
You think something is wrong with you, he just knows it. It’s like the time you watched hours on hours of Gray’s Anatomy and then proceeded to research yourself into a frenzy about the sicknesses you might suffer. But James made sure then that there was not even a paper cut compromising you and he will do the same now, too.
He is desperate to tell you what it is you feel, that there is not much you can do and that he feels it ten times worse because he hates to see you suffer. But he needs to be careful about how much he reveals to you.
“Oh my god, I’m getting paranoid,” you mutter to yourself and James smirks at your small slip up. He has noticed how you try to minimize your references in curses. It’s cute, really, because he knows how much you used to do it. It’s a little bit amusing, the small deviant trait of yours making him feel like he has found something in common with you and he’s almost proud of it.
You collect yourself, quickly, breathing in deeply and then turning around to him. “I have to run some errands today.”
“Great, where are we going?” James asks with eagerness. Car rides excite him. He has always found them fascinating, but actually being in one is a whole new experience.
You bite your lip and for once, James does not feel the familiar tingle in his stomach when you do so. There is sadness sitting in your eyes when you answer him. “Actually...” Your tongue darts out to wet your lip just for your teeth to dig into it again and an unfamiliar tightness travels through James’s body. “It is something I need to do by myself today. I hope that is okay.”
The angel nods vigorously, trying to ignore the pang in his chest. “Yes of course. I will leave you to it alone.” He steadies himself on the door frame and then heads to the living room where he grabs a book and settles on your window sill to look occupied.
“It is nothing personal, James.” Your head dips from the doorway and he looks up. “It's just... it would be weird for you to be there.”
“I understand.” The way he adds your name to his answer makes him sick. But his body is feeling weird, not showing him the familiar signs of jealousy or anger he knows. It feels... warm and uncomfortable.
“I will be back soon.” Your voice travels through the hallway and your footsteps along with it. James stares at the empty doorway for a while, his eyes shooting down to the book when you suddenly reappear. “Do you want anything from the store?”
“No, thank you.”
“Okay.”
And then the door falls shut. But before James can get consumed by his loneliness, he puts the books down - something about an ice breaker - and heads outside to follow you.
❁ ❁ ❁
But earth can be a lonely place. At least hell will welcome you with warmth.
❁ ❁ ❁
You didn’t lie. You were at the store. But now that you’re treading on the small path towards the grey cemetery walls, James feels the fear spread through his body like a slow and painful death.
He’s hiding behind the trees closing around the park, watching you as you halt before a simple headstone. He can feel your mourning deep within his heart, tugging, yanking, pulling on the tiny strings that sting so effectively. His temple leans against the rough bark as his eyes trace your slow movements. You place a small bouquet of flowers on the soil before the engraved letters, resting your forehead on the gold stone.
He can’t see it completely, but he knows you’re crying. You always do. Everything within him screams to reach out to you, to hold you and sway you until the world feels less taunting, but he knows how difficult it could make things.
So, instead, he remains hidden, a silent sentinel in the shadows bearing witness to your sorrow from afar. He feels the weight of your tears as if they were his own, each drop a dagger to his soul and a reminder of the distance that separates him from you.
And yet, even in the midst of your pain, there is a flicker of something else - resilience, determination, a quiet strength that refuses to be extinguished. It’s a testament to your spirit, a beacon of hope in the darkness that threatens to consume you both.
As you linger before the headstone, lost in your memories and your grief, James feels a surge of admiration swell within him. Despite the pain you carry, you continue to preserve.
“It’s really a shame you never have the balls to comfort her.” A voice whispers in his ear and James shoots around to be met with a redhead whose eyes stare daringly up at him. “Then again... I guess it would be kind of ironic, don’t you think?”
“What are you doing here, Wanda?” All angels are made weary of Lucifer’s spawn. They are vicious and manipulating, carrying the pits of hell to places that least expect them and watch it all go up in flames as they stand laughing on the sidelines.
James knows the demon standing before him. More than once have their paths crossed throughout time, but he is surprised to see her every time anew. He refuses to show any sign of weakness in her presence, knowing that to do so would only invite further manipulation.
Wanda chuckles darkly, her laughter echoing through the trees. “Oh, nothing much,” she muses with a wicked grin, pacing around James to take a closer look at him. “Just though I’d remind you of what you’re missing out on by playing the good little guardian angel. But who knows... maybe one of these days, you’ll finally grow a spine and take what you want.”
James clenches his jaw, struggling to maintain his composure in the face of Wanda’s relentless provocation. He knows better than to let her under his skin, but the demon’s words cut deep, striking at the heart of his insecurities. He feels the surge of frustration rising within him as his fists clench by his sides, the weight of his silver cuffs pressing against his wrists like chains. “I can’t,” he whispers, his voice barely above a whisper. “You know I can’t”
Wanda’s gaze narrows as her arms cross in front of her chest. “Can’t or won’t?” She counters, her voice tingling with an unspoken dare.
James hesitates, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts and emotions. "I... I don't know," he admits finally. "But it doesn't matter. My duty lies with heaven, with protecting her. I can’t do that when I’m lost in the in-between.”
Wanda's eyes glitter with amusement as she takes a step closer, closing the distance between them with an unnerving grace. "And what if heaven isn't where you belong?" she whispers in a seductive purr as her fingers flick against his cuffs. The sound travels through the trees, making you turn and look around you. "What if your heart longs for something more, something... forbidden?"
A shiver runs down his spine, a sudden realization dawning within James. For so long, he has clung to the safety of his celestial duties, fearing the consequences of straying from the path laid out before him. But now, as he stands face to face with the embodiment of temptation itself again, he can't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, heaven is not the place where he can truly flourish.
“I don’t trust you, Wanda.” He admits genuinely, though the possibility of her words holding truth gnaws on his very soul.
“You shouldn’t.” She smirks devilishly, eyes flashing in a short glimmer of red and evil. “There will be consequences to disobeying celestial rules. But you will never find out if a life free of them would be more fulfilling to you if you don’t try.” She winks, setting uncertainty free within him. “Find me when you have made the right choice.”
As he watches Wanda disappear into the shadows, leaving him alone with his thoughts, James knows that he is standing at a crossroads—one that would determine the course of his destiny for eternity. And though the path ahead is uncertain and fraught with peril, he can't help but feel a glimmer of hope stir within him, a whisper of possibility that promises a future filled with love, and happiness, and the chance to finally be as close to you as he has always wished for.
❁ ❁ ❁
The night has broken over your small town by now. James has made it back with a conflicted heart before you came home from your errands. He knows you notice his silence as he normally enjoys to talk a lot to you. But you don’t say anything.
He is just sitting quietly in the kitchen as he watches you make a cup of tea, wondering what it tastes like right before frowning at how scared he is to try a cup of hot water just because he doesn’t know what it would do to him.
Wanda’s words come back to the forefront of his mind and the unease she instilled within his heart right alongside it. He has been longing to reach out to you for so long, has wanted to touch and comfort you in so many ways his mind began to spin. Especially after days like this, when you went to visit your brother’s grave. You would be crying yourself to sleep tonight. And you would get up tomorrow, wipe the sorrow from your eyes and continue to live your life as if nothing happened. Because you are strong and resilient.
And James, even though he is finally present, is not able to offer you the solace you so desperately deserve.
At least he thought so.
His eyes wander to the silver cuffs around his arms, feeling the weight and letting the subtle clink of them seep into his skull. He has never questioned why or how the rules of heaven applied to him. He never even thought about the consequences of breaking them until he felt the need to protect you. He never really cared until you became the most important thing in his life.
Now, seeing the pain in your gaze, and feeling the guilt for being here, not soothing you gnaws on him, sending him back to a state in which he would kill to see you smile again. Free of fear and sorrow.
You bite your lip when you settle on the chair across from his. Your eyes look dull, but James can’t help but think there is a question posed within them. Something desperate and restricted. Oh, how he would love to know what you’re trying to say. He is just too inexperienced with human interaction that he can get a read on everything just yet.
James feels his heart picking up, knowing it beats in the same rhythm as yours, but he doesn’t dare speak, knowing his voice will betray him. Your tea cup is empty, your eyes tired, and he knows that this evening with you will end within seconds.
“Good night, James.” You finally say, following the small ritual you have established with him as you wave at him weakly.
Normally, he says it back. Normally, he guides you to the bedroom and closes your door promising to watch over you in silence. Normally, he doesn’t have a demon’s words ringing in his ears.
But today, something feels different. As you gather your things and head towards your bedroom, a sudden surge of determination courses through him. He can't bear the thought of being separated from you, even for a moment longer.
With a sense of reckless abandon, and the words of Wanda hanging in his mind James makes a daring decision. Ignoring the warnings echoing in his every being, he reaches out to you, his touch barely grazing your shoulder as you turn to leave.
In that fleeting moment of contact, something shifts. A spark ignites between you, a connection so powerful and undeniable that it defies explanation. Time seems to slow as you both freeze, caught in the throes of a bond that transcends the boundaries of heaven and earth.
For a heartbeat, everything hangs in the balance, the air crackling with electricity. And then ...nothing happens.
There is no rush of wind and light that makes him disappear, leaving behind only the echo of his presence lingering in the empty space between. There is nothing else welcoming him in wrath or absolute nothingness or whatever is supposed to happen if a celestial ever dared to touch a mortal.
He opens his eyes that he had shut tight without noticing. And you’re still here. In front of him, staring at his hand that is softly wrapped around your wrist. His mind is struggling to make sense of what just happened - or rather what didn’t. It was all a hoax.
James feels rage bubble within him. And as you stand there, alone in the quiet stillness of the room, touching. He counts yet another reason why heaven was never where he belonged.
A single tear rolls down his cheek when he pulls you into his body and wraps his arm around you tightly. His heart beats violently, pumping the anger of knowing how much time he wasted not being close to you through his body. His wings follow close behind, sealing you into his warmth and creating a space just for you and him. It’s as if you are made for him. Your body tugs perfectly beneath his feathery white wings and he knows he’ll hold you like this for eternity.
❁ ❁ ❁
He’s touching you.
James is touching you. No, actually, he’s consuming you with his whole being, pulling you into the best hug you have ever received. His wings wrap around you protectively, engulfing you into his scent entirely. It’s earthy, and clean, and... heavenly.
You chuckle slightly as your cheek presses to his chest, your head barely reaching his collar bone, but it just makes you feel enclosed by his presence from all around. You heart beats just as rapidly as his and you exhale in content as you realize that you’re not the only one feeling this connection.
You don’t know what changed. Maybe you are not as good as hiding your sadness as you think you are. Or maybe there is a whole other reason behind this angel guarding you into the most loving hug you have ever experienced. But fact is, you needed it today more than ever.
And James knew ...because he strangely knows so much about you. He feels familiar without trying and it is a weirdly comforting thing to experience. Especially after all you have been through.
Hesitantly, and almost sorrowfully, you pull away from his warm chest. His wings loosen around you, his arms leaving just enough space for you to lean back and stare into those azure blue eyes of his. He’s beautiful up close. Long lashes frame his loving stare as his mouth tugs into a smile, taking yours right with it.
“You touched me.” You say in awe as James’s eyebrows slightly raise. “You thought I didn’t notice, but I did.”
There is a steak silence as his gaze travels over your face then roams his arms that are still holding you tightly close to him. “Should I not be touching you?” He asks carefully.
You can feel his hands retreating but you pull him right in before they’re gone. “I was just wondering when you would.” You snuggle back into his shirt and his hands cradle your head to him. “Is it embarrassing to say I’ve wanted you to do it for a while now?”
“Not embarrassing at all.” His chest rumbles with a chuckle. “I’ve wanted to do it even before then. I just didn’t know if I could.” The last part is a mere whisper that dissipates in your hair when his mouth presses to it in a feather light brush.
A rush of warmth floods through you, filling every corner of your being with a sense of belonging you've never known before. Time seems to stand still, the world falling away until there is nothing left but the two of you, entwined in each other's arms.
"You've wanted to touch me?" you murmur, the words slipping out before you can stop them, a confession born of the unspoken longing that has lingered between you for far too long.
James's gaze softens, his fingers trailing gently along the curve of your cheek as he meets your eyes with a look of quiet intensity. "More than you could ever know," he replies. "But I feared the consequences.”
“What consequences?” James shakes his head as his thumb still lingers on your skin.
“I don’t know.” You reach up to cup his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing against his cheekbones as you search his eyes again. It was stupid of you to assume he didn’t touch you because he didn’t like you. He was probably scared of what would happen if angels ever dared. The look in his deep blues tells you how worried he was. How long he withheld for the sake of dodging the unknown.
“It’s not bad, is it?” You hand travels across his chest, feeling the muscles tense in its wake. “Touching.”
James's breath catches in his throat, his heart pounding against his chest as he gazes down at you with a mixture of awe and reverence. And once again, you would love to know what is happening inside his brain.
With a trembling hand, James cups your face in his palm, his touch gentle yet possessive as he leans in to press his forehead to yours. You cant help but feel that there is something keeping him from you, still.
“Let me stay with you tonight, my beloved.” His fingers tighten around your face ever so slightly. “Let me hold you and keep you safe.”
“Safe from what?” You ask in a trance as your fingers bury in his hair and you play with the thought of pressing your lips to his. But he has taken so long to hug you. You don’t want him to be overwhelmed.
“Anything.” He whispers back and closes his eyes. A whole new warmth consumes you when his words seep in, blanketing you in cherish and admiration. If this is what being appreciated feels like, you will fight to keep the feeling forever.
“Okay.”
❁ ❁ ❁
Oh how much the celestials have lied. Flying is nothing compared to this.
❁ ❁ ❁
As you bustle about the diner, taking orders and refilling coffee mugs with practiced ease, Peggy sits at her usual spot at the counter, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she watches you work.
"Something on your mind, Peggy?" you ask with a smile, setting down a plate of pancakes in front of a hungry customer.
Peggy leans in closer, her voice low and conspiratorial. "I couldn't help but notice that smile of yours, dear," she says with a knowing wink. "It's positively radiant today. Dare I say, it's almost as if you've got a secret?"
You chuckle, feeling a flush of warmth spread across your cheeks at her observation. “Hmm, I don’t know,” you reply coyly, unable to suppress the grin that tugs at the corners of your lips as you tab your finger against them. “What makes you think I’d share it with you?”
“Well, I am a loyal customer for one...” She pauses as she thinks of another point. “And I am old enough to think the secret dies with me." Peggy presses, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
“Please, you know the entire town.” You laugh and Peggy waves her hand dismissively, though there is a proud smirk on her red lips.
Before she can respond, a voice cuts through the air like a knife, sharp and tinged with bitterness. "What's all this about smiles and secrets?”
You turn to see Old Lee leaning against the counter with a grim expression. His worn-down straw hat flops over his eyes, making him look even more grumpy than usual.
"It's nothing, Stan," you reply, trying to defuse the tension with a forced smile. "Just some friendly banter."
Old Lee’s eyes narrow slightly. "Friendly banter, huh? You're squawking like a bunch of chickens in a henhouse."
Peggy rolls her eyes, clearly unimpressed by Stan's attitude. "Oh, hush up, Stan," she scolds, waving a dismissive hand in his direction. "Can't you see we're having a moment here? This is girl talk. Go and drink your tea like the grumpy old man you are.”
Old Lee shakes his head in response but wisely chooses to turn back to his drink. “We all know how the last time she came in here with a smile that big turned out.” Old Lee grumbles searching your eyes once more. “The frogs're telling me we’ll have another rain comin’ soon. You better be careful, sweetheart.”
You share a conspiratorial look with Peggy, either of you not sure wether to believe him or not. Stan is not one for sappy love stories, but he certainly hits the nail on the head with his predictions every time. His bold hint towards the last big death this town suffered glides off his tongue like a Sunday prayer and it ripples down your spine in ice-cold peaks.
“That is in the past. Right now, I really am hoping we are talking about the charming gentleman I talked to the other week. He certainly is a sight for sore eyes.” Peggy’s eyes sparkle as Old Lee huffs into his cup.
She winks back at you and the smile returns to your lips, along with the giddy feeling you get when James is called into your mind. But before you can respond, the diner door swings open, signaling the arrival of another customer and putting an end to your conversation—for now, at least.
❁ ❁ ❁
A noise calls from the back of your house right before the sun starts its journey in the sky. You don’t wake as James tries to stir carefully with his arms still holding you tightly. He was not sleeping - he doesn’t need sleep, but he still feels groggy from the warm and comforting night being ripped away with the sound.
It piques another time and now, James is sure, someone is trying to get inside. Within minutes he is out of bed, checking the window and then closing the door to your bedroom on his way to the back.
He is ready to protect you at all costs, eager to show you how much you mean to him, but when he sees a touch of white beyond the window and hears the familiar rustling of feathers that accompany it, it only takes him a second to realize who has come to intrude your peace.
Two men - angels - just as tall has James litter the kitchen once he opens the door and pulls them inside with both hands. Samuel, the one standing a little to the side, brushes his clothes off once he comes to a stand again, watching James with amusement and curiosity. “I see you haven’t changed much, James. A simple ‘hello’ would have been just fine.” He crosses his arms before his chest, his wings shaking the dowry rain from their feathers and right onto your kitchen floor.
“Why are you here?” His eyes search those of Steven - a friend of his but also an angel ranking higher than James ever will.
“You know why we’re here.” He steps closer once he has composed himself again. “You are testing the heavens.”
James huffs, feeling the anger rise inside him. If anything, heaven was testing him. So he goes on to ignore the blonde angel before him, willing his heart to calm at all the frustration accumulating at once. “Did you know it was a lie?” James starts instead. His voice is strained when he thinks of all the times he refrained from touching you just to keep you safe. “Just a way to keep us from initiating contact?”
Steven doesn’t say anything and Samuel’s stare meets that of James again. Steven shows little remorse, the pride on display now more than usual. The supposed betrayal James has caused is nothing to the sting boring into his soul by the very man standing in font of him. Steven is cold, distant - when he should be a friend.
“I should have known.” James shakes his head. “Your duties have always placed higher than your friendships.”
“That is because duties are the most valuable virtue God can give.” Steven finally says and his jaw ticks angrily.
James could never imagine being more loyal to a system placing as many restrains as heaven does. Not when he knows how good the real world can feel. How precious it is to smell flowers and hold the one you love in your arms well into the night.
“You came here with a mission, James. And since your fall, you have done nothing but frolic throughout this place with your very own human.” Samuel is eerily still behind the broad blonde spitting one accusation after the other. But James decides not to comment on it just yet.
“It is far more than that,” he rasps feeling the protectiveness flood his body.
“We know. That is why you are here in the first place.”
“What am I supposed to do, Steven?” James tries to keep his voice low, but his frustration is too great. Steven should be the one to understand better than anyone else. But he seems to have locked that part of him far away right now. “How can I amend a sin that is irreversible?!”
“Every sin can be amen-“ Steve’s eyebrows raise and Samuel’s eyes flickers from James and focuse behind him. That is when his heart beat picks up again. And as much as he loves you, he wishes with all his being that you are not standing behind him right now.
“Please, no.” He mutters and turns just to have you approach from the hallway with tired eyes.
“What is happening? Who are you?” Your voice sounds sleepy, a hand rubbing over your face before you find yourself by James’s side.
“Angels.” He bites his lips, contemplating for a moment but deciding that you deserve to hear what is happening in your own home. A home he hopes to be part of forever. Besides, with Steven here, there is no ending this conversation without confusing you more. “They want me to abandon you.” The bitterness is evident in his tone. But he regrets it as soon as he catches the stutter in your heart.
“What?” It’s all you say, but the way you do breaks his collected facade.
“James-“
“What do I have to loose, Steven?” his arms open wide. "They already cast me out. They took my freedom, they took it all.” His wings barely shake, just emphasizing his statement.
Steve steps closer, causing you to slightly shove yourself behind James, his arm reaching around you, just not touching yet. ”But there is still a chance to redeem yourself.”
“What if I don’t want it?” James bites back.
“Don’t act rash, James. Think about this.“
“I have.” Long and hard. Every night he holds you, he has enough time to do so. And he has come to the conclusion that nothing compares to having you this close to him... and only him.
“You know of the punishment placed for sinners who do not attempt to right their wrongs.” Steven is seething beneath the surface, James can tell. But he tries to stay professional. He can try all he wants. James has already made a decision.
“What is he talking about?” Your voice takes him back to your presence. Your hands sneak around his forearm and hand, to which his body responds like a reflex. His fingers squeeze yours, his body seeks the heat of yours. Samuel looks at the interaction curiously, Steven settles for a disapproving taunt.
“I lose my wings. I lose heaven.” James explains to you, watching as your eyes open wider in shock.
“What?” There is so much more behind your astound answer. What does this mean for us?
“James is banished from the heavens temporarily already.” Steven’s voice drips with authority, making you stiffen beside him. James hates it. And he doesn’t hate much.
“Why?” You’re too soft for this, too fragile to take another betrayal so soon. He has just gotten started and he already feels you drifting away. Your eyes are glassy when you turn to Steven. “What could have possibly been so bad that you ended up here?”
“You didn’t tell her?” Sam breaks his silence. The surprise is written all over his face just to be replaced by confusion when James utters his name in warning.
“Tell me.” It seems as though his eyes switch between everyone in the room, trying to warn them all of what will happen if they take his opportunity of telling you himself.
“James is not just any angel.”
“Steve, stop it.”
“He is your guardian angel.”
It all happens too fast. A look to Samuel tells him there is no ending this. Steven won’t stop until he has tried his all to have you turn from James.
“And he committed the worst sin of them all.” You look shocked and expectant. The grip on James’s hands grows tighter with every syllable leaving Steven’s mouth. And James is silently cursing the angel in front of him “He killed a man... for you.”
You stumble back and James catches you only to earn a warning glare from Steven and Samuel.
“Brock,” you whisper and it sounds like the single word has taken the entire air out of your system.
Lighting brightens your house over the stifled morning gleam and thunder sounds dangerously in the distance. You’re flinching, though searching James’s eyes as he steadies you back on your feet.
“You cant do this forever, James.”
“And what if I try?” He turns fully. “What if I would rather get myself killed than come back to heaven?”
“He wouldn’t” Steve is heaving, but Sam steps forward, Laying a hand on the blonde’s shoulder in an attempt to soothe his rage. “The soul bond affects her just as it does him.”
“What does that mean?” It’s barely a screech when you interrupt them again. Turning to James and tugging at his shirt, you convey the frustration of being kept in the dark through your features. “What does it mean, James?”
He sighs, shaking his head and then closing his eyes - hoping to escape this conversation. But it is happening. “It means, if I die... you will die, too. A soul need replace that of a guardian one.”
At this point, James questions his sanity. How could he have not realized the twisted ways of the celestial realm sooner? In an attempt to soothe both his aching head and your tired soul, he reaches out to pull you into a hug, but your hands swat his arms away.
James recoils as if struck, the sting of rejection shattering his heart into thousands of pieces
“You might think it wise to revisit what we offered you, James.”
The words hang in the air like a dark omen when Steven and Samuel disappear. With a heavy heart, James turns away from you, unable to bear the weight of your disappointment any longer.
As you walk away, James is torn between the desire to comfort you and the fear of causing you further pain. But when he reaches out to touch you, once more, your tears are a silent testament to the rift that now lies between you.
"I... I'm sorry," he stammers, his voice choked with emotion. It’s a desperate attempt to fix this, even if he does not know how.
“Go, James. Please. I need time to understand all this-”
“I can help you.”
“-alone. I want to be alone.” You swallow hard. “Leave, please.” Your tears finally spill and James despises that he is at fault of them.
“Go.”
Feeling more abandoned than ever, James leaves you to your grief, the weight of his actions weighing heavily on his soul. In that moment, he realizes that the price of his newfound freedom may be greater than he ever imagined, leaving him trapped in a prison of his own making, forever haunted by the memory of the one he could never save.
He knows there are not many ways to fix this. But he is determined to find the one that will.
❁ ❁ ❁
He doesn’t remember earth to be quite this cold.
Find me when you have made the right choice. The words keep ringing in his head.
A little warmth would feel nice now.
❁ ❁ ❁
You were angry when you told James to leave. Angry, and hurt, and confused, and shocked, and fucking tired of it all.
But now that he is gone, an unfamiliar emptiness has taken its place where your tingles used to be. Everything makes so much sense now. The weirdly familiar feeling. The sense of security around him - a total stranger at the time, who obviously possessed more strength than you could ever imagine. The instant pull from his heart to yours.
The quiet of your house seems to close in on you. The walls feel tighter, the rooms emptier. Every corner holds a memory of James, a reminder of the presence that had once filled your life with warmth and mystery. His laugh echoing in the hallway, his silhouette framed in the morning light through the kitchen window, the way he seemed to know when you needed comfort before you even realized it yourself.
You sit at the table, staring at your untouched cup of coffee, replaying moments in your mind. The time he effortlessly carried your groceries when you insisted you could manage alone. The nights he stayed up with you, talking about everything and nothing, his voice soothing and familiar. The way he looked at you, as if you were the center of his universe.
The days seem endless without him. Simple tasks feel monumental in the absence of his reassuring presence. You find yourself hesitating before making decisions, second-guessing your choices, yearning for the silent support he always provided. The realization hits you: you had built your life around him, around the safety and stability he brought, even without knowing the full truth of who he was.
You cannot deny that a big part of you misses him despite all the lies he told you. Well, not lies entirely. You know he has always been truthful to you ...he just never told the whole truth until he was forced to.
And even though the other two angels who visited made him reveal his secrets to you, you feel like there is so much more to discover still.
Your hand settles over your heart, trying to pull the constant racing around James back into existence. But it beats in profound silence, acting as though nothing has happened, when - in fact - everything has changed. James came into your life and unapologetically took your heart away. You don’t want it back. You want him back. Heart or not, your souls are connected. And now that he is gone, you know what you have truly been missing all this time.
With a sigh, you rise form your chair and grab your keys, determined to find a way to help James out of the trouble he has caused because of you. A shiver runs down your spine at the memories of it all. James’s sin had good intentions, you know this much. But two people died at the time of it - though only one deserves your mourning.
You pull your door closed and make your way to town hall. The entire left wing of the building is dedicated to the library and you are destined to find out more about the man who crashed into your life and took your heart away... and then disappeared.
The library is quiet, the soft rustling of pages and the occasional whisper the only sounds that break the stillness. You approach the counter, where a librarian is meticulously organizing a stack of book. She looks up as you approach, her kind eyes lighting up with curiosity.
“Hello, dear,” she says warmly. How can I help you today?”
You hesitate for a moment but then you decide to just start at the beginning. “I’m looking for some texts about angels,” you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper. “More specifically fallen angels... and the consequences of disobeying.”
The librarian raises an eyebrow and a look close to amusement and happiness reaches over her face. “That’s a rather specific topic,” she muses and your brow begins to sweat. Maybe this was a stupid idea. The woman is still eyeing you with a smolder, but then, as if you pushed a button, she shrugges and begins to type away on her computer. “Good thing it’s my job to get you exactly what you need.”
She nods slowly after a little while. “We do have some old texts and legends about angels. Let me show you.” With that, she lifts her body out of the office chair behind the desk and leads you to the far end of the library. It’s a quiet corner where the oldest books are kept. She pulls an ancient-looking leather-bound volume from a high shelf. For the place it has been kept, it is surprisingly dust-free.
With a smile, she hands it to you and then wishes you ‘happy hunting’.
The book is heavy in your hands. The front is embossed in golden letters. Your fingers trace over it, feeling every ridge and dip. ‘Legends of the Divine and Fallen’, the title reads.
When you flip through the pages, the book’s well-worn smell engulfs you and something inside you shifts. You brother loved old books. The one in your hand brings you right back to when you were kids. Pietro had a whole wall of shelves filled with his favorite stories. And more so than often, you snuck inside when he was out with his friends, grabbing one whose cover intrigued you the most and then getting lost in the pages until he came back and read it to you.
He sparked your interest in reading - made you the bookworm you are today. And finally, probably caused you to jump into this adventure with James in hopes of finally living inside on of your fantasy worlds.
You eyes get caught by a story in the book, your thumbs halting and fully opening the page as intrigue tingles in your entire body with every word you read.
The Tale of Buchariel: The Curious Angel
In the celestial realms, where light and harmony prevail, there existed an angel named Buchariel. Renowned for his loyalty and dedication, Buchariel was also marked by an insatiable curiosity. His yearning to understand the world beyond the heavenly gates set him apart from his brethren, who were content to serve without question.
One fateful day, driven by an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, Buchariel descended to the mortal realm without divine permission. His eyes beheld the beauty and chaos of humanity, the joys and sorrows that defined their existence. It was in this realm, teeming with life and temptation, that Buchariel's fate took a dark turn.
As Buchariel wandered the earth, a demon of cunning and allure took notice of the angel's presence. This demon, skilled in the art of seduction, approached Buchariel with promises of forbidden knowledge and experiences that no celestial being had ever known. Blinded by his curiosity, Buchariel succumbed to the demon's temptations, engaging in acts that defied the sacred laws of the heavens.
Word of Buchariel's fall reached the celestial realm, and the angels were dispatched to retrieve their wayward brother. They arrived in time to save Buchariel from complete corruption, pulling him from the demon's grasp and returning him to the realm of light. However, the consequences of his actions could not be undone.
The celestial court declared Buchariel's punishment. He was stripped of his rank and given an ultimatum: he could return to heaven only if he vowed never to betray the divine will again. God, in His infinite mercy, offered Buchariel a chance at redemption. He was to serve as a guardian angel, watching over humanity and guiding them towards righteousness. In this duty, he could be close to the world, yet stay obedient to heaven.
Buchariel accepted his fate, grateful for the opportunity to make amends. Yet, the legend speaks of the angel's perpetual struggle. Constantly exposed to the allure of the mortal world, Buchariel walked a fine line between duty and desire. His heart, once pure and untainted, now carried the scars of his past transgressions.
Eons passed, and Buchariel's vigilance never wavered, but neither did the temptations. His soul remained in perpetual conflict, torn between his heavenly duty and the memories of earthly sensations. The legend warns that Buchariel's fall could occur once more, for the battle within him is eternal. He is an angel forever on the edge of sin, a guardian who knows the weight of temptation, and a being who understands the cost of free will.
Thus, the tale of Buchariel serves as both a caution and a beacon. It reminds all who hear it of the delicate balance between obedience and desire, and the endless journey towards redemption that even the most divine must undertake.
A chill runs down your spine as you realize the parallels between the legend and James. The delicate balance between obedience and desire - serving and sinning. James did sin again. When he killed the man who ended your brother’s life.
You sit in silence, the weight of your realization settling over you like a shroud. It’s clear that Jame’s story resembles that of Buchariel in too many ways to be a coincidence. He was weirdly comfortable on earth, now that you think about it. For Christ's sake he even told you he had met God ‘under rather unfortunate circumstances’. If what the legend says is true, unfortunate is the understatement of the century. Now you cant help but wonder what price he might pay for his defiance.
❁ ❁ ❁
The diner hums with its usual activity, the clatter of dishes and the murmur of conversations fill the air. You move mechanically from table to table, refilling coffee cups and taking orders, but your mind is elsewhere, clouded with thoughts of James and the emptiness his absence has left behind.
Peggy, sitting at her usual spot at the counter, watches you with concern etched on her face. She waits until you pass by her with the coffee pot before speaking up.
"What's happened to that smile of yours, dear?" Peggy asks, her voice soft and maternal. "You used to light up this place."
You force a smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes. "Just tired, Peggy. You know how it is."
Peggy's eyes narrow, not buying your excuse for a second. "Tired, my foot. Something's bothering you. You can talk to me, you know."
Before you can respond, Scott chimes in with a smirk. "At least now I know you’re back to normal," he says, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Thought you were gonna float away with all that grinning you were doing."
You shoot Scott a glare, feeling a mix of irritation and sadness. "Thanks, Scott. Really helpful."
“Always at your service” He tips his nonexistent hat, almost bringing a chuckle up within you. In his own way, he never faisl to cheer you up a little.
Peggy waves a dismissive hand at Scott and turns her full attention back to you. "Don't mind him, honey.” She leans in closer, her expression softening. "But seriously, what's going on? I haven't seen you this down in a while."
You sigh, the weight of your emotions pressing down on you. "It's complicated, Peggy. Someone important to me... well, they're not around anymore. And it's just... hard."
Peggy reaches out and pats your hand gently. “We all miss Pietro, dear. Losing someone is never easy... especially after all you’ve been through.”
You nod, grateful for her kindness, but the ache in your chest remains. You can't bring yourself to tell her it’s not your brother you are mourning at this time. "I appreciate that."
The hustle and bustle of the diner continues around you, but for a brief moment, you feel a small measure of comfort in Peggy's concern.
As you turn to refill another customer's coffee, Peggy's words linger in your mind. Maybe opening up a bit more wouldn't be such a bad idea. Maybe, just maybe, sharing the burden could help ease the pain of James's absence, even if only a little. But who should you talk to? The only person you were every really close with is gone...
❁ ❁ ❁
Yet another day passes in which you worry yourself tired. The house feels emptier than ever, the silence pressing in on you as you move through the rooms like a ghost. You try to distract yourself with chores and routines, but your thoughts always circle back to James. Wondering if he’s safe or thinking about you.
You sink into the worn armchair by the window, your favorite spot to watch the world outside. But tonight, the familiar view brings no comfort. The sky is a dark canvas, the stars hidden behind thick clouds. You hug your knees to your chest, feeling the loneliness wrap around you like a suffocating blanket as Old Lee’s words echo in your mind once again.
A quiet sob calls into the empty room - barely audible. And then the tears start falling down your face in constant streams. The memory of his touch, his warmth, his presence, feels like a distant dream. You close your eyes, trying to recall the feeling of James's arms around you, the sound of his heartbeat against yours. It's a comfort and a torment all at once.
You haven’t cried like this since Pietro died... No, actually, you did when the message of Brock’s death reached you. But those were tears of relief rather than pain.
A sudden chill sweeps through the room, at the memory of the man who tormented your life in more ways than one. You open your eyes, frowning as you notice that it’s not only the thought of Brock making you feel this way. The air seems to crackle with an otherworldly energy. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, and you feel a strange pull, a familiar yet eerie sensation that makes your heart race.
You stand up slowly, your breath hitching in your throat. The room feels alive with a palpable tension, as if the very fabric of reality is shifting. You turn around, your eyes scanning the dimly lit space.
And then you see him.
❁ ❁ ❁
James stands before you, his presence both startling and comforting, he notes as your herts sync again. His eyes meet yours, filled with a mix of relief and sorrow. You look as if you've been through a storm, yet there is a resolute strength in your gaze that anchors him. He probably doesn’t look much better, considering he in fact has been in said storm. But he’d do anything to come back to you.
"James," you breathe, your voice trembling with emotion. "You're here.”
He steps forward, closing the distance between you. "I’m here," he says softly, his voice carrying the weight of all the unspoken words and unshared moments.
You reach out, your hand trembling as it touches his cheek, as if verifying that he is real and not another figment of your imagination. Your skin is cold and the sensation sends a flood of emotions through him.
"Where have you been?" you ask, your voice cracking with the weight of your worry.
“It is a long story," he replies, his hand covering yours. "But right now, all that matters is that I'm here. With you.”
In that moment, the world outside fades away, and all that exists is the space between you and James. The silence is filled with unspoken promises and the electric charge of a reunion long overdue.
When you fall into his arms crying, his knees feel like giving out. He has had a long journey behind him, but he would die before showing you weakness when you need him the most. “I thought I would never see you again!” You cry even harder and James wraps his arms around you with loving pressure.
“I’m here,” he tries to soothe you. His wings come around you once again in search for the calmness that washes over him when he realizes you feel safe.
“I don’t think I can do without you anymore.” Your voice is muffled against his chest but his heart leaps at your confession. Warmth spreads throughout his body as the realization hits that you finally feel close to the emotions he has harbored for you for so long.
James wants to promise you that he’ll never leave again. He wants to tell you that there is nothing worth losing you. Not the most tempting offer to ever exist. He wants to hold you forever, in fact, do more than just hold you and give into the feeling he has only ever heard about from demons and sinners.
But he can’t. Because he knows it would not be true.
His feud with heaven is far from over. And the journey he plans to venture holds great unknown. So, he settles for the one thing he can tell you with certainty.
“I cannot be without you, either, my beloved. There is so much I want to experience with you but the most important of them all is love. I love you, with my entire soul and heart. I cannot deny you this truth any longer. I have done the unspeakable because of it and you deserve to know.”
You eyes look up at him widely, a question in them that has waited long enough to be asked. “Brock’s death wasn’t an accident,” you whisper, but your posture remains steady. There is no pain or sorrow in your face. Just pure, plain curiosity.
“They told me he was mugged and thrown in the river. But it never made sense to me.” You pull a little out of his touch and James lets you even though his entire body screams to keep you close. “This town is too small to be mugged in. He was killed with a single stab to his heart. A mugger would never be so efficient.”
You gleam at him, seemingly waiting for him to confirm. But James stands in your presence with a sense of pride. He does not regret is transgression, not when it meant keeping you safe - which was and still is his greatest aim.
“The way he was found was too peaceful to be from a robbery, either.” You tell him shaking your head. “How can you make a murder look so respectful and honest?”
“I am sorry if I have upset you, dearest-“
“You haven’t. Brock Rumlow was a bad man. It took me a long time to notice, but he was abusing and ill-driven. If anything, I am upset I couldn’t thank you sooner that he is gone.”
“I had played with the though of removing him from the face of the earth for quite some time,” James confesses, feeling all the secret’s weight rolling off him like avalanches. “From the moment he first screamed at you... to the time he laid his hands on you. But I knew you were strong. I was so proud of you for getting up each day and moving on. I would have never acted had he not hurt you in a way even i could feel throught the very bond that ties our souls together. I knew you could handle the hurtful words, even the hurtful touches - that no-one, and especially not you, deserves. Your brother is of similar cunning as myself. But he was brave enough to act while I was fearing the consequences of testing celestial rule once more.”
James catches the new tears rushing down your cheeks. But he wont stop telling you. He knows you need to hear it. It hurts him to revisit the memory of watching Pietro die in his quest to secure your freedom. “I was trying to honor you brother as much as ensure your safety when I... killed Brock.” He clears his throat and takes your hands in his. “He would have continued to hurt every person he encountered. I do not regret what I did.”
“Oh, James.” Your hands reach up to his face. James bows down to follow the tug you apply to his jaw. “Thank you for telling me. I am not angry. And despite what the other angels said, I know you are a good person. I love you, too.”
You smile as James’s hands cover yours on his face. Your foreheads are touching and the room around you fades into nothingness. In this moment in time, there are just you and him, and all the new feeling bubbling inside him that he his eager to explore.
He’s known it for long, but now he is certain than going back to heaven was never an option. Not when you are still here.
“I would love to kiss you right now,” you whisper in the space between you, igniting a heat within James he has never felt before.
“I would like that very much,” he confesses and as soon as the words leave his lips, yours are firmly pressed against his.
The sensation is overwhelming. Your lips are soft and warm, moving against his in a way that sends shivers down his spine. His hands still press yours to his skin, unsure what to do and overwhelmed with the experience opened to him. You gently take them and move then to your waist, then a little lower, making him trace the curve of your body as your tongue slowly slips between his lips. The contact sends a surge of electricity through him, making his heart race.
The kiss is tentative at first, each of you exploring this new and wondrous connection. Your fingers weave into his hair, anchoring yourself to him as if afraid he might vanish with this daring protest against heaven. He can feel the gentle tremor in your touch, the same mixture of awe and desire that he feels within himself.
You pull back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. Your breath mingles with his, cheeks heated and lips swollen. “Move your hands, James,” you whisper, guiding his hands to slide even lower on your body, teaching him how to hold you close, even though he thought he has always done so right. This is different. This is more.
He follows your lead, fingers trembling with the intensity of the moment as they squeeze flesh, eliciting a soft whimper from you that makes James’s insides stir. Or maybe it is not his insides after all, he notices when his pants feel tighter all of a sudden.
Each brush of your lips against his, each caress, speaks of the longing and love that has been building between you for so long. James deepens the kiss, more confident now, feeling the warmth of your body against his, and it’s as if the world outside has ceased to exist.
Your thumb brushes over his cheek, and you smile, voice breathless. “You’re doing great.”
The kiss becomes more fervent, your guidance helping James navigate this new territory. He feels like he’s pouring all his love and devotion into this one act, wanting to convey everything he’s never been able to say. His wings reach round you tentatively, leaving enough air for you to breathe. He want’s to be wrapped up in you more - he cannot explain it.
James pulls back slightly, his breath coming in shallow gasps. “This... this is incredible,” he murmurs in a voice husky with wonder. “I’ve never felt anything like this before.”
You smile, eyes sparkling. “Neither have I.”
Your lips find each other again, more urgent this time, as if you’re making up for lost time - at least James is. The demon who lured him down the first time failed to mention this part of humanity to him.
“I want to show you more,” you finally whisper against his skin and at this point, James is willing to walk the sun if you asked him to.
“Everything,” he rasps, his lips touching you with every syllable. He cannot get enough of your taste. “Show it all to me, my love.”
“I want to start with taking off our clothes.” You kiss him again, making Jame’s pants feel even tighter. He knows about sex and he knows it is what you are hinting at. But he has never experienced it. It is no use to angels, since they cannot impregnate another. In heaven, it is rarely talked about - and if it is, one is warned about it.
Right now, James does not care why. He is eager to experience as much as there is on earth with you and then some. So, he lets you guide his hands over your shoulders, shrugging your cardigan off your body and letting his fingers glide beneath the thin straps adorning your shoulders now.
His hands are so big compared to yours. He marvels in the fact of how much stronger he is, making him able to protect you that much better.
James has no difficulty guiding the clothes from your body. Nakedness is something barely acknowledged where he comes from. But today... something about it feels different. This situation feels so much more intimate than it usually does. And he notices, when you kneel down to pull his pants down, his cock stands proud from his body, bigger than usual, and hard and- “Oh!” sensitive, he notes when your lips kiss his hip, your face slightly grazing his member in the action.
With your head next to it, it looks disproportionately huge, but you don’t seem to mind.
“This... I have never done this before.” James’s hands guide you back up to him. He is certain his cheeks are glowing red by now. He feels hot and bothered, yet so yearning for more of the teasing your face provided for mere seconds before.
“Are you okay with continuing?” Your eyes find his again.
“Yes.”
“Okay, good.” And when he nods, you take his hand and lead him down the hall to your bedroom.
He has missed this place, missed holding you for the time he went away, but he can't tell you where he has been just yet. Not now, anyway. Right now, he wants to experience whatever you are willing to show him.
You walk around him, touching him all over, watching him react and making him lean down only to pull back before his lips can get a taste of yours again. It’s beautiful agony and James is torn between pulling you into his strong grip and letting you wind him up until his balls feel like they are the ones squeezed tightly. They already are...
Eventually, you come to a stop behind him. He jolts when you fingers drive over the top of his wings, only for you to mumble a quick ‘sorry’ and coming back around in front of him.
“Don’t be sorry. I was just not expecting it.”
You stare past him and at the white feathers protruding from his back. “They are so soft... and pretty.” You find his eyes. “All of you is pretty.”
He reaches for your face, finding pride in the way you nestle into his palm with a smile. “And dear, you are the most beautiful being the world has ever seen.”
“Can I touch them again?” You whisper only for James to now stare in awe.
He watches as your hands pass his body in slow-motion. They travel past his ribs and reach carefully towards his wings again. This time, he is prepared, though his stomach feels tight with something opposite of worry. More of a physical feeling he can't begin to explain. He closes his eyes and lets your touch travel over them like a prayer. Your path leaves shivers in its wake and James lets his head hang, reveling in the feeling. He opens his eyes and watches his cock twitch whenever the tingles get too much.
He gasps breathlessly when you graze the underside of his wings, making his whole body jump slightly.
“Oh, are those sensitive?” You smile in awe, though your expression turns to excitement when he wheezes out his answer.
“Very.”
“Do you like it?”
Your fingers glide over the same spot again, making his cock leak, feeling like he’s about to explode. “Yes!” He grabs the sideboard next to him.
“I want to make you feel good, James” your voice is damp agains this ear and he bites his tongue before bursting.
“You already do.”
“I want to make it even better.”
James is not sure he can handle better. He’s already floating miles above the ground when you touch him in the ways you do. Maybe he has to distract himself to enjoy this some more.
He could think about why heaven would withhold education of how amazing sex can be. That will make him calm a little, posting yet another reason why it was never the place to be for him.
Your hands wrap around his silver wrists as you guide him to the bed, pushing down on his shoulders until he is sat on the mattress, looking up at you with intrigue and awe.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to ride you, James.” You straddle his lap and his arms immediately reach around you.
“Ride ...me? I’m not a horse.” He states and watches as your smile lights up. But it settles a weary feeling in his stomach. There is a hint of mischief in your glint, and James is not sure he can handle it right now.
“Do you trust me?”
“With my entire soul.”
You kiss him and push at his chest. “The lie back for me.”
And so he does, realizing - once again - that anything heaven could offer him pales in comparison to the love he feels for you, a love that knows no bounds or logic and that is reciprocated in your every touch.
James watches as you scoot up his body until you are sat right behind his cock, which has not ceased to soften one bit since you kissed. It reaches all the way to your navel. But before he can take in the sight and calculate the size difference between you, you press him against your stomach, pulling another moan from his lunges.
His tip is leaking more and more with every touch you gift him and James starts to worry his body will give out before he can make you feel good.
“You’re so big, so pretty.” You stroke him from base to top, letting your thumb press into the underside of his cock and send shiver after shiver through James’s body. “I need you inside me.”
“I need that to.” His voice is strangled when you lift up and grind his tip through your wet folds, moaning with the friction he can only assume is the same for you as it is for him.
In a swift motion, the head of his cock sinks inside you, breaching tight muscle and making him feel dizzy with the new sensation. Your head falls back with a loud breath that makes his abs tighten. This whole time, he feels as though a gust of wind could make him unravel, but something inside him tells James he should hold out - or at least try to.
The raspy sounds escaping his throat cant seem to stop when you slowly work yourself all the way down his shaft. And the high-pitched scream you set free when his tip reaches another barrier within you makes him twitch and leak even more.
“Are you alright?” He asks through sweaty brows.
“I’m amazing.” You smile and lift yourself up only to sink back down into his lap. Your movements become steady, and when he finally gets over the way your mouth hangs slack, the rhythm you set builds even more pressure inside him.
The room is filled with messy sounds of skin and sweat and moans and heavy breaths. You sink down on him again and again until James feels like he is on fire. But you don’t relent. Your pace never falters when you fall back and your hands grip his thighs, digging into his muscles until his toes curl.
It’s too much at once and not enough at the same time. James feels as though there is a cliff he could fall over every second now, but he’s too scared to loose the sensations he is experiencing right now to let his body do so.
“Touch me,” you suddenly say, taking his hands which have fisted inside your duvet until now and placing them on the soft flesh of your breasts. Only now, your nipples are hardened when you guide his fingers over them. “Like this.” You’re somehow fare gone and right there with him. But he does as he his told again, flicking his thumb over the pebbled flesh until your moans grow higher and higher. “Ah, Yes!”
It’s doing something to him, he his twitching every time your pussy squeezes him in tandem with his thumb on your nipples. His body is moving without the permission of his mind when he suddenly thrusts up. And then again. And again. Until you are mewling and crying on top of him, your fingernails digging into his legs painfully hard.
James immediately drops his hands only to watch you stare at him with wide eyes.
“What’s the matter. Why did you stop?”
He bites his lips in shame when he realizes he misses your constant movement on his cock. “Am I hurting you?”
You eyes possibly widen further. Leaning forward and capturing his cheeks with both lips and hands, you shake your head after you pull away. “No! No, its a good thing, love. You feel so good. You...” Your expression changes to a rather shy one. “You’re just very big. You should be proud.”
Something inside James clicks as you confess with another kiss to his lips. A smirk spreads beneath them when he curiously thrusts up inside you and experiences your hot breath gains his face.
In a second, his hands grab onto your hips, his body turns and flips the pair of you until your back hits the mattress as gently as he can offer in his compromised position.
A last look of reassurance when your eyes lock with his set off the urges he has suppressed so far. His hips snap forward over and over again, your pussy tightening more around him with every push. Your hands are fist into the covers, head thrown back and mouth open. There is no more sound coming from you at this point. And James understands why. He is as overwhelmed with the feeling as you look. When you grow even tighter, gripping this cock until he cannot move anymore, white pleasure as hot as hellfire rushes through his body, kissing his nerves from head to toe. He feels his balls empty as he paints your inside with his spent, only being able to lazily rut into you after a minute to seize every last drop of pleasure this moment has to offer.
Then he falls forward as if a higher force has taken all the strength from his body, though careful not to hurt you when his weight settles on top of you.
“What-“ he needs to catch his breath first. “What was that?”
“That,” you open your eyes, chest having with every deep breath, “was an orgasm.” Your hands brush through his hair and James finds himself purring at the touch. “And it was the best one I’ve ever had.”
You kiss him and chuckle when he looks at you questioningly. “I guess you could say it was outer-worldly... or even heavenly.”
James rolls his eyes but can’t stop the laugh from slipping his lunges. He pulls back and watches as his softened cock leaves your pussy, only to be followed by your mixed arousal dripping out of you.
Trance-like, his hand moves to collect the fluid and begins to smear it over your petals, up into the soft tuft above it. He knows angels cannot impregnate other beings, but he is fascinated by the scene in front of him. It’s like a little testimony when he marks you all around the best place he has ever experienced, wordlessly rubbing and enjoying the whimpering sounds you make when he flicks over a particular spot.
“Is this sensitive?” He teases with a smirk only to be met with a playful smack on his arm.
“Very.” you say. “But I am entirely satisfied as of right now.”
James sighs and falls into the sheets beside you. “Me too.” He nuzzles into your neck and pulls you closer to his body. He does not care that you are sticky with sweat or that neither of you are cleaned up. He just needs to hold you now that reality has taken its place back around him again.
“So, you have been watching over me for - what? All my life?”
James hides the chuckle bubbling up his throat at your sudden question. He still has his eyes closed, taking in the feeling of your nails lightly scratching up and down his forearms. It makes him tingly.
“All your life, yes.”
“And have you ever meddled with other things that were supposed to happen to me?”
“Do you remember the year in which you kept finding pineapples in arbitrary places?”
It’s silent for a moment, but your movements don’t falter. “I always thought that was a weird coincidence.”
James smiles into the crook of your neck. “Consider it my way of adding a little excitement to your life. And maybe a small attempt to make you notice me.”
You push yourself up slightly and rest on your elbows as you look at James. “I like you like this.” You smile.
“Like what?” He’s smiling as well.”
“Less angel, more...” Your hand comes up to gesture at nothing in particular. “...deviant.”
The smile on James’s face turns into a proud grin before he leans up to kiss you tenderly, savoring the moment and pushing away the thought that has been gnawing on him ever since he came back.
He holds you until you fall asleep, purposefully missing the opportunity to tell you what he has gotten himself into while he was away.
❁ ❁ ❁
James stands in the garden, the sky overcast and heavy with the promise of rain. He’s out here to retrieve a bouquet of your favorite flowers, smiling like a fool because he finally has what he always wished for. All his mishaps and seem worth it when he holds you in his arms at night.
The flowers are vibrant and alive, and he bends to pick them with a sense of purpose, each blossom a token of his affection. Even as the first raindrops start to fall, his joy is undiminished. The rain doesn’t bother him; it’s a minor inconvenience compared to the happiness he’s found with you.
As he moves through the garden, he thinks of the moments you’ve shared—the way your eyes light up when you see him, the warmth of your touch, the sound of your laughter, the way you writhe beneath him in she sheets. For the first time in his existence, he feels complete.
James clutches the bouquet and heads back toward the house, eager to see the surprise on your face when he presents you with the flowers.
But before he can pass the threshold, an eery feeling spreads though is soul, a shadow falls over him but vanishes just as soon. He scans the yard, his sight nestling through the trees at the very edge of it and then suddenly halting when he sees Wanda leaning against one at the very far corner of your property. Her presence is like a dark cloud on the horizon, a stark contrast to the bright joy he feels. Her red eyes glint with a knowing look, and her lips curl into a smirk that sends a chill down his spine.
“Are you not coming inside, James? The weather will only get worse.” You shout through the house only to appear behind him to inspect what is keeping him outside.
But James’s stare is fixated on the demon in your yard, his protective instincts setting in immediately, scanning his surroundings while keeping a close eye on Wanda.
“What is going on?” You ask and reach your arms around him from the side. He can sense you’re eyeing him but he knows you see what he is seeing when your entire body grows rigid beside him.
“Who is that?” you whisper into James’s shoulder as you step even closer to him, your voice barely audible over the increasing patter of rain. He squeezes you a little tighter, trying to shield you from the inevitable storm brewing. A quick look at your state tells him he should have send you inside. But It is too late for that now.
When his head turns back into the direction of the demon, it is no longer in its prior place. Instead, Wanda has moved across the garden with impeccable speed, looking up at the pair of you a few feet alway from the step leading to your porch.
“You promised me time to explore the likes of this life.” His voice is low and intimidating, though he knows its futile in the face of a demon. They are scared of very little.
“And explored you have,” her red hair falls over her shoulder when her head ticks to the side. “Tell me, Bucharius, is it worth the cost?”
The demon knows of the leverage it has on him. James was sure he would follow through with his request from the start. But he forgot, or maybe just hoped, the devil’s spawn would gift him more time until he had to go and seal the contract.
“You know it is,” he pushes though clenched teeth, hating how your fingers clamp around his arm already.
“Actually, I don’t. But I would be an idiot to refuse an offer such as yours.” Wanda clasps her long fingers together and grins with evil. “Oh, I will have so much fun with your soul once the time comes.”
The angel closes his eyes tightly, hating the way the demon pressures him to leave so soon. But it is for the greater good, for him at least. He need’s to be selfish for once - to be able to spend a lifetime providing whatever you desire.
“Just give me a moment, Wanda,” James says, his voice steady despite the chaos inside his head. He knows his flicker of happiness is about to be shattered, but he wants to hold onto it for just a little longer.
“What is happening? What does she want?” There are tears brimming in your eyes and James decides he has seen them far too many times to be a good guardian to you. It just secures his decision to do what Wanda came to collect him for.
James presses his lips to the crown of your head before gently tilting it upward with his fingers. His gaze is steady, exuding a confidence while you desperately cling to him in your confusion.
“I’m not sure I can handle all this newfound angelic drama,” you mutter with unease, and James kisses you—short and sweet, a fleeting moment of peace.
Then he whispers against your lips, “Please, you handle drama like a queen. Remember that time you dealt with Valentina from accounting?” His attempt at humor brings a small smile to your face, and he momentarily loses himself in the warmth and security it provides.
But the feeling doesn’t last long.
“James has made a deal with the devil,” Wanda grins, her red eyes flashing with malevolent glee.
Her words send shivers over your body, James feels the ripples pass beneath his fingertips. You pull away from your guardian angel, whose troubles have now escalated to an unthinkable level.
“What does she mean, James?”
❁ ❁ ❁
James’s silence is deafening. You pray, you beg, for this to be a terrible joke, but deep down, you know it’s not.
“James.” Your words are strained, desperate for answers, desperate for reassurance. “What is she talking about?”
“It is true,” James finally admits, his eyes free of sorrow but filled with determination. “I have made a deal with Lucifer. My wings for a mortal life. My soul when it leaves my deceased body after spending a lifetime with you.”
“What?” The word is a whisper, your mind struggling to process the gravity of his confession. Because your cheeks feel salty and stained before you realize what James has just told you. “Why are you doing this?” you ask through your tears.
“Because I’d give up heaven if it meant being with you.” James’s eyes burn into yours, the rain dripping off his wet face deceivingly. His voice is steady, unwavering. “I’d go to hell a thousand times over until my soul burns to ashes if it meant I get to hold you one more time. You’re everything to me. Everything.”
Another wave of shivers slip over your skin with the way he presses the last word. His eyes are fiery, almost desperate. He is trying to make you understand how much better this decision is, but you fail to see how it can. “You can’t do this. You are destined for more. There are many more to come after me that need protecting and watching over.”
“And there have been plenty before you, yet none of them have or will ever compare, my love.” He touches your cheek, but you push his hand away. Your heart is already aching when you watch his face fall at the gesture. But you are not made for these types of dilemmas. You are human for fuck’s sake. “I would spend eternity regretting not experiencing life with you. I am tired of watching; I am over feeling the distance between us. Going back to heaven means finding you someone else to love. And I cannot do that. It would destroy me, burn me alive, rip my heart out of my chest.”
“James, think about this.” Now the first angry tear slips from his face and mixes with he rain which has grown heavier. Dark clouds cast over the scene, matching the mood perfectly. Dreary and sad - how poetic.
“I have. For far too long. I will never feel truly fulfilled until I can be what you need me to be: a real, tangible person that grows old with you.”
You shake your head, your hair sticking to your skin. “You have to believe me when I tell you that I exist only for you. My life was dull before you entered it, and it will feel like a black hole when you leave. There is nothing—nothing—I wouldn’t do to be with you.”
Never before have words felt more genuine than this. James is hunched forward, his eyes pleading at you from above. A sneaky hand has captured yours and presses it to his chest, where his heart is beating vigorously against your skin.
Resignation laces your voice when you finally answer him. “So you’re just going to leave now? For how long? What if he tricked you?”
You don’t know much about all the rules but one thing is for sure, the devil likes to play and deceive. Just the thought of James walking into a trap makes your stomach churn.
“Then it was worth it.” There is something akin to content and fulfillment in Jame’s stare when his hand squeezes yours and his heartbeat slows. Though your’s seems to do the opposite.
“No.” You say breathlessly.
“I’m sorry," he answers, and wraps your fingers around the bouquet in his hands.
“James.”
“I love you.”
“James.”
The rain intensifies, pounding the earth as if mirroring the turmoil in your heart. James turns and lets Wanda put him in chains, leading him away. You fall to your knees, crying, the three words you have yet to say hanging on your lips for nobody to hear. He’s gone. He’s gone without the knowledge of ever seeing you again.
❁ ❁ ❁
And just like that it ends like it began: in tragedy… and rain.
❁ ❁ ❁
Maybe you are just not cut out for happiness, you think as you wipe down the counter with a frown. The sun is shining today, almost mocking your bad mood with every chirping of birds outside. Earlier today, you were so angry about the reflection blinding you inside that you shut the blinds completely.
James has been gone for a week now and you already feel like breaking down over what you’ve lost whenever something is mentioned that reminds you of him.
A few days ago, after a really rough night, you swore you’d never let anyone this close to you. It’s the perfect start for you villain origin story, really. Losing your brother to an abusive ex. Losing said abusive ex thanks to a protective angel. Then falling in love with the angel only for him to go to hell for loving you back.
You heart cannot take another hit. It’s constantly breaking as you think about the torture and pain James is probably suffering in the pits of hell. There is just no more room for another person, another worry, or anything else, really.
You will just die an old and groggy lady, likely still cleaning this very counter until you cant anymore. The whole town is going to know you as the weird woman with seventy two cats.
You shake at the thought of it, disposing of your towel and grabbings some plates from the counter to clean up some more.
“New customer is yours, freaking weirdo has been standing outside the window and looking inside like some kind of stalker,” Scott mumbles as he paces by you with his head buried in his phone screen.
You just sigh and throw a used napkin into the trash before loading the dirty plates onto a kitchen tray.
“I’d like a sandwich, please.” A voice sounds from behind you and your entire body goes rigid.
It can’t be. It cant. For days you have been wishing for James to come back, now you are finally becoming crazy.
But your heart picks up its familiar sprint and your entire body tingles with hope. Still, you don’t dare to turn around.
“Are you not going to look at me, dearest?”
Your hands tremble as you grip the edge of the counter. What if it’s real? What if it’s not? The uncertainty gnaws at you, each second stretching into an eternity. You’ve dreamed of this moment, but dreams are fickle things, easily shattered by the harsh light of reality.
“James...” The name slips out in a whisper, a plea, a hope. Tears sting your eyes, and you squeeze them shut, bracing yourself for the worst.
You take a deep breath and finally turn around. Truly, there he stands in front of you, with a bright and gleaming grin on his lips. There is one thing you notice immediately: the silver cuffs on his arms are gone. And he looks oddly free without them.
Almost trance-like, you round the counter, your had reaches out to him, touching his jaw, gliding down the length of his neck until your fingertips disappear into the soft curls in the back of it.
“Is it really you?” You whisper in awe as you start to drown in the familiar blue of his eyes. And when James covers your hand with his, squeezing his reassuring sequence to your bones, you know. It’s real.
“In the ...flesh.” he frowns but then smiles widely.
“What happened when you were gone?” Your curiosity gets the better of you, but James just shakes his head and then turns his face to kiss the inside of your wrist.
“Not here, love. Take me home... if you’ll have me. Take me back. I promise no more secrets from now on.”
You just nod vigorously, finally pulling James into your embrace. The worry raging inside you fades into insignificance, eclipsed by the certainty that in this moment, you’ve regained something intently more powerful - a bond that defies explanation, but feels undeniably perfect.
“I will always choose you over anything else, James.” You nuzzle into his chest as you ravel in the warmth of his body and the security of his touch. His heart is singing the same song as yours and his head hangs low atop yours, pressing meaningful kisses to your hairline between every stroke of his hand on your back.
The diner around you might as well not exist. All that matters is this connection between you - the bond that defies the boundaries of heaven and earth.
“But tell me one thing,” you whisper into his shirt and James moves to better hear your low voice.
“I will tell you anything,” he presses into another kiss on your face, still holding you close.
“Are you... did the-“ you’re not sure how to assemble the questions inside your mind without being bold. But James seems to know exactly what it is you want to say.
He takes both his hands from around you and guides your face to his until his warm lips press a meaningful kiss to yours. “Yes,” he murmurs softly, yet steadily, conveying just enough seriousness to let you know how important and truthful his answer is. “I did what I promised. I am yours until the end of my life, and even beyond, my soul will be seeking yours for eternity. But until then, we will grow old together and finally be what we were meant to.”
His lips latch onto yours a second time and as the kiss deepens, a sense of completeness washes over you. In James’s arms, you find the solace and passion you have been yearning for, a promise of love that transcends all else.
“I can’t begin to tell you how much it means to me.” You smile back between kisses.
James pulls you even closer, his voice a gentle murmur against your lips. “We have a lifetime to show each other.”
And in that moment, surrounded by the echoes of a bustling diner and the warmth of his embrace, you know that no matter the trials ahead, this love will endure, defying all boundaries and transcending every limit.
❁ ❁ ❁
Because at last, there’s noting more freeing than falling itself.
Lord, can we take a second and appreciate these images???!! Got me on my knees - and not for praying, I'll tell you this much...
Hello, loves. As always, thank you so much for taking the time to read my work. I hope you had fun! Maybe... juuuust maybe if you want to, you could leave a comment or reblog on this post. New fics will be on hiatus until August, I have some real life work to finish. But please feel free to interact and talk to me. I love hearing from you! Take care, and ill talk to you as soon as I can. ~Meg 💗
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✯CYBER SEX✯
THEE MUWAPGUCCI COLLAB PT 1
IN WHICH… Matt and Chris Sturniolo are just two inexperienced losers.
Lemme see you beat it, I'm feelin' just like Mike
Warnings: NSFW CONTENT AHEAD! NO ACTUAL SMUT BUT MENTION OF PORNOGRAPHIC MATERIAL AND BODY PARTS.
Humming is heard within the dark room, followed by the sound of typing and the clicking of a mouse. Matt's eyes dart across the screen, his glasses perched upon his nose. He was currently in his room, dressed in grey sweatpants and a long-sleeved crewneck. He was attempting to finish his paper that was due in a week, always eager to stay on top and ahead of the game when it came to his studies. However, he was distracted, his eyes periodically darting to the top of his screen.
9:00
9:30
10:00
10:30
He quickly saves his paper and goes to the website he has logged on to so many times.
Chaturbate.
A pornographic website providing live webcam performances.
He found the site a couple of months ago by accident. He was on his computer, looking up websites to help him write his paper when one of the sites opened up a separate tab with the erotic webpage. He was shocked to see multiple freeze frames of girls in lingerie or having sex.
Even though he lived alone, he felt like he was going to get caught. He quickly slammed his laptop shut. Now he wasn’t a prude, he didn’t care if people had sex,
But he himself has never done it, he hasn’t even touched himself.
Out of curiosity, he slowly opened the laptop again. He hesitated when scrolling through the pages, his eyes analyzing the multiple streams. Even though he could feel his pants tightening, none of the girls called out to him,
Until he found her.
It was a freeze frame of her in a baby blue lingerie set, smiling as she held a phone. He didn’t know what it was about her that caught his attention, but he found himself clicking on her stream.
That was the first night he had ever touched himself.
Since then, he has made it a tradition to touch himself every Thursday night when she goes live.
He logs in with ease, his password and username already being saved. His heart skips a beat as he sees the pink dot next to her name, signaling she's on and live. He clicks on the stream and watches as his favorite girl's smile greets him.
"Hi everyone." she's sitting on her bed, her body covered in a lavender lingerie set. "I know you guys will be mad at me, but this will be a very short stream, only 20 minutes." Matt's smile visibly deflates.
20 minutes? She’s only going to be live for 20 minutes?
He debates on just closing out of the stream, but he can’t find it in himself to do so.
“Aww guys, I promise I will make up for it! Maybe I’ll pull out the fucking machine in my next stream.” He can feel his pants tightening at the thought of her using the machine.
“But, I wanted to tell you guys that I have a surprise for you! Any guesses?” He watches as her eyes dart across the screen, reading the comments flooding in. “These are good guesses, but no one has gotten it yet. 2 more minutes and then I’ll tell you.”
Usually, Matt never comments, always preferring to be a silent viewer but, he wants to change that tonight.
Megamattsturn: does it involve us possibly meeting you?
He watches as her eyes light up and she giggles.
“Megamattsturn seems to have the right idea. You’re a smart boy aren’t you?” He sucks in a sharp breath at the praise, his pants tightening even more.
“I’m hosting a competition for you all! Before I describe what the competition is, it is-“ Matt gets distracted by the way her glossed lips catch in the light, the particles of glitter shining off the pink LED lights in her room. He could only imagine the glittery residue on his dick after she sucks him off.
“-So finally the competition! I know most of you have begged to meet me, even though all you want to do is have sex with me, so I thought I would extend the offer.” Matt perks up, his interest peaked.
“One of you will have the opportunity to take me on a date, and if I feel comfortable enough, maybe one of you will get lucky.”
Matt watches as the chat blows up with men and women already begging to be picked.
“So after I end the stream, a link will be available on my account that will take you all to the form. As I stated previously, it is $50 to enter. The form asks basic questions. Name, age, height, what your interests are sexually, if you have any STDs, and where you are located. At the end of the form, you do have to submit a video of yourself explaining why you think you should be the one to take me out on a date. And because I refuse to take anything small, I would like a video of your-.” She trails off with a smirk.
“Does anyone have any questions?” She waits a few moments and sees that everything is good, before giving the stream one last smile and logging off.
The page reloads and it takes him back to her account page. Sure enough a pink link is in her bio.
He hovers his mouse over it, getting ready to click it when he backs out. He shakes his head and clicks out of the tab, standing up and walking out of his room.
“Be serious Matt, she wouldn’t pick you anyway.” He mumbles as he grabs a water bottle out of the fridge. He walks back into his room and decides to try and finish his essay.
He struggles to stay on topic, the idea of the competition still lingering in his mind. He groans and saves his essay before shutting down his computer. He figures he will work on it tomorrow and just go to bed for now. He turns his lights off and lays down in his bed, his mind racing.
Matt sits in the campus library trying to do his homework, except his mind is clouded with the thoughts of the competition. It’s been a few days since the competition was announced and it’s all he could think about.
It’s pissing him off.
He wasn’t able to concentrate on his studies, he couldn’t pay attention in class, he couldn’t even listen to his music without thinking of this god-forsaken competition.
Deep down he wants to enter, he truly does.
He has the opportunity of a lifetime to take the girl in his dreams on a date, but there’s one problem,
He’s never been on a date, and he’s never even touched a girl.
He’s a virgin.
He just started masturbating a few months ago and now he might lose his virginity? There’s too much for him to think about.
He groans in aggravation and slams his book shut, snatching off his glasses and rubbing over his face. With a deep sigh, He leans back in his chair with crossed arms, staring down at the book in front of him.
He needs to get this sorted out before it really starts to affect his schoolwork.
Suddenly, a group of girls walk into the library and take a seat at a table next to him. He fights the urge to roll his eyes, the fact that they sat next to him when there were multiple empty seats all around pissing him off to no end.
He tries to shake off the frustration and opens his book again, grabbing his pencil and taking notes.
“Can you believe he sent me a picture of his dick?” This conversation took Matt by surprise, his note-taking stopping abruptly. “A picture?” One of the other girls responds. Matt tries to ignore them, but he can’t help but listen in.
“Yes! He sent the typical ugly-ass dick pic just holding it! Like bro, send a video from a good angle and let me hear you moan!” The girl exclaims rolling her eyes. The other girls laugh before switching to another topic, but Matt is still stuck on the previous one.
He knows he shouldn’t have listened in on the conversation, but they were telling him good information.
Girls don’t like awkward dick pics, they prefer videos of the guy jerking off and moaning. His cheeks begin to warm at the thought of sending a risqué video like that.
He’s pulled out of his thoughts by one of the girls turning to him, “hey you?”
Matt turns and look at them awkwardly, he can barley hold eye contact with them, his eyes looking everywhere but theirs. “Y-yeah?” His stutter makes one of the girls giggle. “You’re a guy right?”
“I-I would hope so…” He mumbles setting his pencil down.
She moves closer to him, her phone in hand. “Good, because maybe you could help me with this.” She unlocks the phone before shoving it in his face. Matt’s eyes widen seeing the picture of the dick, he quickly turns his head.
“Why do guys send pictures like this? Like it’s so ugly and does nothing to turn us on!”
Matt shrugs not really knowing what to say, “I-I don’t kn-Have you ever sent a picture of your dick? What angle did you take it from?” She cuts him off mid-sentence, taking a seat next to him.
Matt can’t belive how open this girl is asking him these questions. He couldn’t even sit through health class but she’s bold enough to ask him about his dick pic experience?
“I’ve n-never sent a picture like that…” He trails off, finally looking at the girl. She was pretty tall and had all the right curves in all the right places. “Really? You have never taken a dick pic?”
He shakes his head, nervously adjusting his glasses, “I have the opportunity to send one though….I-I just don’t know what to do.” He finds himself awkwardly admitting to his situation. All the girls stare at him with wide eyes.
He’s never sent a dick pic? He's a 21-year-old guy in college and he never took or sent a dick pic?
Their studies are quickly forgotten as they help educate Matt on taking the best picture and video. He thought the girls would judge him on his lack of experience, but they were all helpful and open-minded, claiming that if he is going to send one, he needs to make sure it’s actually pleasing.
Matt’s listening to everything they are saying, taking mental notes as well as real ones, so he won’t forget when it comes time. The girls find it adorable how actively he’s paying attention, asking questions that are questionable, but somehow still remaining polite.
"Aww, guys! We are like his older sisters teaching him how to get a girl!" One of the girls gushed. They all fall out into laughter, finding the statement true. They decide to pack up and leave since it's getting late out. They walk out of the library, holding arms with one another, Matt included.
The girls don’t care about him being a boy, they could tell in the short time frame they knew him, he was truly a nice guy. He was just shy and a bit awkward, but he was genuinely sweet.
They say their goodbyes and Matt begins to drive to his apartment. He catches a red light and leans back in the seat, a smile on his face. his phone buzzes making him look down.
Chaturbate message from lovely/n: Hey everyone! Just wanted to remind you that the link expires in one day! Make sure you enter! I’m excited to see the faces of my viewers!!
A new-found confidence surges through Matt,
He's going to enter the competition.
With his adrenaline pumping, he rushes through the door of his home, throwing his bag down on the counter and making his way to his bedroom. he plops down in front of his monitor and turns it on, quickly going to the taboo site and opening up her page.
Once again he hovers over the link, the little voice in his head telling him not to do it, telling him he wouldn't even get picked.
He shakes his head and clicks on the link. The screen reloads and a pink page pops up, a bright message is displayed, enticing everyone to submit their entry.
Matt scrolls down and clicks on the hot pink enter button.
Trying not to second guess himself, he begins to fill out the form
Name: Matt Sturniolo
Username on Chaturbate: megamattsturn
Age: 21
Height: 5'8
Location: LA
Hobbies:
Matt sighs in frustration. He was never good at telling people what his hobbies are, his mind always drawing a blank at the question. He goes through the list of things he likes doing and chooses a few that seem more appealing.
Hobbies: I really love writing, I'm actually majoring in film because I love to journal and I would love to turn my thoughts and feelings into movies, or even music videos. I also like to play video games... I know it's a bit cringy but it brings me a sense of nostalgia since I would play with my brothers all the time. I also really love the Lego sets you can build and keep, my favorite was the bonsai tree.
Tell me about yourself: I'm a triplet, the middle one to be exact. One of my brothers goes to college in NYC, while my other brother goes to college in Chicago. I'm originally from Boston MA and I have a dog named Trevor back in Boston.
Sexual interests:
He hesitates, he's not sure what he's into sexually. He's never experimented but he believes he would be open to it.
Sexual interests: I'm not too sure. I do believe I would be open to almost anything within reason.
What would our date look like?:
This form has to be mocking him, constantly reminding him that he is the least experienced person there is. It might as well call him a loser. He wants to back out so bad, but he's almost done so he keeps going.
What would our date look like?: I'm not a fancy person, so I wouldn't take you to some fancy dinner unless that's what you would like. I would most likely take you to some type of fair or arcade so I could win you something. Then we would sit somewhere with food and just talk. it's not the greatest date but I think it would be fun.
Submit your video here:
He stares at the pink words, his heart beating in his ears.
"Ok, you can do this Matt! come on!" He hypes himself up. He quickly sets up his phone and presses record.
He smiles at the camera shyly, not making eye contact.
"Umm, hi Y/n... I'm going to try and keep this short because god knows I'll ramble due to me being nervous-" he takes a deep breath before continuing.
"The reason for this video is to answer the question 'why I should be the one to take you on a date.' And my answer is that I don't really know. If I'm being completely honest, none of us, the viewers, deserve to be in your presence. I mean we watch you take your clothes off and play-" he cuts himself off, looking away from the camera with flushed cheeks.
"Not that it's wrong that you do any of that, but in retrospect, we all seem like perverts for watching you do so... umm if I'm being completely honest I've never been on a date before and that's probably a huge turn-off but yeah." He trails off. He doesn't know what else to say so he ends the video. He watches it back and internally cringes at how awkward he looks.
He deletes the video and decides to try again
and again
and again
and again
"Take 5," he mumbles to himself, pushing his chair back.
"Ok, hi Y/n-" he runs a hand through his hair and fixes his glasses. "-this is like my fifth time making this video and honestly, I don't know. There's honestly no reason you should even be giving us a chance at all to go on a date with you. I've never deen on a date before, so I can't tell you why I should be the one to win. I just know you're really pretty, and I would love to treat you out to a fun night, even with no sexual favors involved." He finally looks back at the camera.
"And yeah, that's all I have to say." He ends the video, watching it over before deciding this is the one he wants to use. He sends it to his desktop and adds it to the form.
submit special video <3 :
"don't panic it's just a video... of you touching yourself." He slams his hand down on his desk in frustration. All his previous confidence whisked away as quick as it came.
"You're such a fucking loser Matt! Why can't you just send the fucking video?" He hits himself on the forehead a couple of times, attempting to knock some type of confidence into himself. he needs to calm down, if he keeps getting this worked up he's eventually going to back out completely.
He gets an idea.
He stands up and rushes out of his apartment, knocking on his neighbor's door. His neighbor was some older guy who always had some type of alcohol in his hand.
Now, Matt has never had a drink of alcohol, but he's heard of liquid courage and he needs any type of courage he can get at this point.
The neighbor answers, looking at Matt in confusion. "What's good bro?"
"I need alcohol," Matt states bluntly. The neighbor raises a brow and takes a sip from his beer. "Aren't you 21?"
"Y-yeah but I need some now and I-I know you always h-have some." The neighbor shrugs, not really caring.
All Matt remembers is stepping foot in the apartment and taking a shot. Next thing he knows, he's clumsily setting up his phone and crashing back onto his bed, pulling his laptop with one of her previous streams loaded closer to him.
He starts recording and presses play on the stream, his hand wrapping around the base of dick.
He whimpers softly as he begins to jerk himself off, the alcohol in his system making him even more sensitive than he already is.
“F-fuck Y/n”
AHHHH MY FIRST COLLAB WITH MY POOKIE @guccifrog!!!!!! GO READ HER PART RN IF YOU HAVENT ALREADY! THIS IS A THREE PART COLLAB SO TUNE IN NEXT WEEK FOR PT 2!!!!
MWUAH, PEACHES 🍑
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You know how in some lewd stories they have those pills that can change or corrupt people? I need those to become real because I’m stuck with a thought that I just can’t get out of my head.
Getting just the cutest little thing as a roommate. Befriending them. Gaining their trust. Hanging out with them. And then…well, slipping some of those into their food and drink. Not enough to give them an overnight change, where’s the fun in that? No, just enough for small changes here and there that their mind will rationalize away until it's too late~
Increased libido? That’s not too hard to explain away, some people's sex drives tend to ramp up or slow down for various reasons. So it’s not too hard for them to accept when they find themselves masturbating as the first thing when they wake up and the last thing before going to bed. Granted, they’re suddenly wanting more but…well, that could just be anything. Definitely not caused by the cookies I made them~
The changes to their body? Well that's easy enough at first. Sometimes people gain a bit of weight, or clothes shrink in the wash. That has to be the reason those jeans seem to be clinging a bit more, hugging their hips, barely able to get up over their ass. And they have been going to the gym…maybe its just finally seeing the results of the work out? As for their chest…well its just more sensitive it all. Could really be anything. Probably not that fresh horchata I made them~
The changes keep coming. Any rational person would've probably scheduled a check up to find the cause. And they meant to do that, honestly! Its just…their focus has been preoccupied recently. It started off with just finding themselves occasionally day dreaming about lewd things. Being forced to their knees and made to worship a domme. What it would be like if their friends lost all respect for them as a person and started to use them like a free use toy. How good it would feel to not have to think but instead just be the bestest little pet, spending their day under the desk of someone who does the thinking and worrying for them as they fill their day with loyal service to that person.
But its been taking up more of their brainpower. The last few times when they meant to make the call they got distracted when they opened their phone and saw the smutty story they had been touching themselves to earlier…and, well…spend the next few hours playing with themselves. Similar thing happened when they tried to do it on the computer. They meant to type in the website! But as they started it auto suggested a porn site and…gods way they would give to get fucked like that.
Poor thing being forced to wear less and less as they run out of clothes that genuinely fit anymore. Thinking they're being subtle about how drooly they'll get mid conversation. That the walls are thick enough that I can't hear them desperately fucking their holes raw on toys they rushed to order.
Until I give them the final pill. One that pushes them into a deep heat. Full strength, not the careful doses I used with the other drugs. Watching them drink it down without even realizing, laughing to myself when they rush to their bedroom to “study”. Letting them go for a few hours, long enough for them to realize that need deep inside them isn't getting satisfied with their fingers or toys. They need something more. Something real.
And of course, like the good friend I am, I offer to help them out. Wouldn't want them to try to rush out in their state. There are so many evil people out there who might take advantage of them and their trust! I wouldn't want that now, would I~?
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tease | H.S oneshot
summary: seeing harry tonguing his guitar last night has you finally admitting the state he puts you in. and that’s never good when you’re a tour photographer. especially now you have photographic evidence of the moment.
warnings: SMUT, oral (fem rec), dirty talk, praise, swearing
a/n: can’t stop thinking about that fucking video? like it’s on loop in my head I can’t. he was so slutty last night it’s illegal. also this isn’t 100% proofread so enjoy I hope it’s okay!
———
Some days at work are harder than others for you.
Today, you knew was going to be rough the second Harry walked out in single-handedly the most revealing outfit he could have. Borderlining absolutely slutty.
And as his tour photographer, that is quite a bold statement to make when you’ve seen every single outfit— and when his top half is often found shirtless up on stage.
But tonight, out backstage when you were prepping your SD cards and ordering your camera lenses, he walked out of his dressing room adorning his stage outfit to show you, and your stomach dropped the sight of him.
It was a new style, something he hadn’t worn before. A cropped, tasseled blue vest, paired with low rise pants that looked like they were clinging onto his hips for dear life.
“Alrighty, what d’ya think?” He asked, doing a little spin to shake the tassels.
Your mouth opened and words struggled to form as your head fogged over from just seeing his body. And the way his ferns were fully out— along with almost all of his other ink on display. Arms, chest and all.
You had sworn this, many times, was just your eye for art. For people like him who made photography electric. But as time and the tour progressed on from its earlier start in 2021, it was getting harder to convince yourself. Because even if you didn’t acknowledge it, there was no way to justify the heat that stirred in your stomach as just admiration.
“Oh— wow— I like the tassels,” you paused, tongue swiping over your lips, “they’ll be really fun in the photos, I’ll try to get some motion blur type shots with them.”
Your hand reached out before your brain even computed what it was doing, grabbing one of the rhinestoned threads at the base of his vest and running down it. Knuckles brushing the side of his chest.
“Excited to see them as always, m’lovely.” He smiles, the pet name making you flush.
“10 minutes till you’re on, H!” Someone called out.
You laughed at the panicked expression on his face as he realised he was probably dawdling, and in fact behind on his own schedule.
“Alright!” He confirmed back, then chuckling as he whispered to you, “I still gotta brush m’teeth.”
“Well, cmon let’s go, I’ll see what behind the scene shots I can get.”
And you thought that the time spent with him pre-show would ease your racing mind a little, but now that you’re out on the floor you’re almost jittering.
He looks fucking delectable. And by the sound of the stadium around you, they notice it too.
As he steps out you have to force your camera up to your face, which is something you never have to do? But looking at him through your viewfinder is hardly enough to satiate you.
Especially a little later in the show, when your camera is aimed to the back of him— and he’s squated down to get a drink of water…
His pants slipping so far down his hips that the waistband of his Calvin Kleins are easily visible.
Some girls on barricade behind you are going feral simply at the sight. And you can hardly blame them, because the sight of them makes you a little light headed too. Tonight he’s really not leaving much to the imagination.
You feel obliged to take a photo of it, lens aiming up to him— hearing the girls from behind you as your cameras shutters open to capture the moment. They’re shouting clearly, “Y/N, you get that pic girl!”
Another one yelling from your left, “SHES ONE OF US!”
You laugh at them. The fans are always an amazing part of the show. You leave with an array of adorable bracelets, funny shirts, and always lovely compliments.
You snap a few more photos before someone calls your name again, and you turn. A brunette girl, in an incredible replica of his recent purple and black heart overalls from the recent Wembley show, is standing.
“Y/N!” She reaffirms when you’re looking at her.
“Hi lovely, your outfit is amazing.” You smile, and she has fresh tears streaming down her face— a common love on tour occurrence.
“Ohmygod, thank you so much. I made you this tshirt, i wanted to give it to you!” She pulled a white shirt from her feet, presumably from a bag.
She held it out, unfolding it to show off the print on the front.
You immediately couldn’t help but let out a shocked laugh at it. A big pink shaded heart, with 2 also heart-shaped photos on each side of it— of you and Harry. But the best bit was the bubble written font, “my favourite parents!” that is above it.
“I— can I please take a photo of you with it first.”
She slaps a hand over her mouth, “No way, of course you fucking can.”
You take a few photos of her posing with the shirt, “I have 2, please feel free take them both!”
You can only assume one of them is intended for Harry. And even if it’s a little weird of you to take them, you do anyway because the girl was too lovely to even consider denying them.
“Thank you so much.” You chuckle as you hang them over your elbow. She still looks starstruck at the interaction that just occurred and you’re overly excited to edit the photos later on.
In the time of the short interaction, you turned to find Harry. He’s about to transition into she, and is over on the main stage.
You hustle to get yourself up from the floor and onto the stage area. Moving to chuck the shirts on the bench, where most of the bands essentials are for easy access.
Harry sees you over there and you decide to show him the design on the front before you can overthink it.
He’s beginning to sing the intro, and he chuckles the lyrics into the mic as he sees it. And fans around the whole arena scream at the shirt— which you didn’t realise was being displayed on the big screens.
You shake your head, struggling not to admire the tone of his laugh that just echoed around the stadium.
Also blushing a little at the fact you did genuinely just show him a shirt with both of your faces of it, deeming you both as a fans ‘parents’.
You go back to doing your actual job, moving to get a good angle, aiming to blend back into the background as you take more photos for the night.
Capturing the sway and jolts of his tassels as he sings. Getting a few shots that not only capture his energy but also his outfit perfectly.
You smile at yourself and at your work.
And you glance up as Harry joins in with Mitch while he absolutely shreds his guitar solo.
Sweat is beading on Harry’s chest and you’re all too aware how much money people would pay to see it from your angle. Thank god for Barcelona’s heat.
And, fuck, not only is it that. His arms look perfect as well. This outfit is really just showing as much of himself off as possible.
You change the settings on your camera hastily to alter the outcome of these next few shots.
He’d stepped away from the mic, turning to look at the band, mouthing something you couldn’t decipher.
He starts to lean down head getting closer to guitar. His tongue juts out…
Your eyes immediately pull back a little from your camera because, there no fucking way he’s about to let some kind of intrusive thought win here.
Time seems to slow. But not the movement of his tongue. It’s flicking fast, as if to mimic it playing the strings of his guitar. Or something like that anyway, because all you can think of is… well… something too inappropriate to even be entertaining in your head given he’s literally your boss.
You can hear the piercing screams around you, someone in the front shouting what the fuck loud enough you swear someone in the back of the stadium could’ve heard it.
You’re not even aware you bought your camera back up to your face and that you’d clicked the button a few times until it’s done and the moments over.
Harry’s laughing at himself, and Sarah is face palming at his lewd action. His smug smile after solidifies the fact he knows what the fuck he just did. And exactly the kind of effect it’s left on some people.
Just not aware you’re one of them…
Because you can’t deny the way you spent rest of the night with a nagging warmth between your legs. One that festered long after the moment was over.
After the show came to a close and you eventually ended up in your hotel room, freshly showered as you edited some of your favourite photos. Including the shots you’d captured of him and his guitar.
Which were fucking insane. You had just the right amount of contrast going on in them, and a certain degree of motion blur that indicated the movement his tongue was making.
The final product was amazing once you had edited it on photoshop. But you spent the remainder of the night in your hotel room ridiculously worked up. Left in bed toying with your clit lazily as you stared at the celling, acting like you didn’t have a specific person in your thoughts.
It got to the point in the next day where you stressed about what photos to show him. And whether or not that included the one you literally came to the thought of last night?
Usually you wouldn’t hesitate, especially since it looked incredible. But you were embarrassed internally. What would he think, or say? And could you even play off your sheer attraction to the image.
You placed your head in your hands with a groan, sat in the chair over by the window. You’re tired, and swear on your life your decision making is going to be impaired when he walks into your room.
Which you didn’t have much more time to stress much about it as a knock came to your door that you knew was him.
You rushed over to open it, finding him standing there, hair freshly washed and clad in much more clothing then you last saw him in. A plain white shirt and some gym shorts— that still made him look hot as fuck, without even trying?
He greets you with a good morning, voice a tad hoarse from last nights show. And he’s smiling as he hands you a cup, one you know is filled with hot chocolate. Just for you.
“I owe you like 100 hot chocolates for how many you’ve bought me just in this leg of the tour alone.” You laugh, letting him past you.
He glances at the unmade bed— you stopped making it a while after he started to come visit your room the morning after the show to pick which photos he liked best, and ones he also wanted edited. Sometimes he’d settle himself on it, legs crossed like a cute little kid.
“Think of it as a gift for all your talent. And putting up with me.” He chuckles, and plops himself down on the chair that’s opposite to the one you were sitting in.
So you follow suit, walking back over the your chair. Taking a small sip of the sweet liquid in your hands.
“Have any favourites so far?” He asks, taking a quick swig of his own drink— which you can only assume is hot tea.
Yes, you think, the one where you’re about to practically fuck your guitar strings with your tongue.
You substitute that for, “A few! The tassels were so fun to try and capture.”
You rotated the laptop screen to show him a cool shot you edited of him. It was a front on photo, his arms extended and washboard abs in their full fucking glory along with his tattoos.
He nods, a smile coming across his lips, crinkling the corners of his slightly tired eyes.
You showcase him a couple, all that he gives relentless praise on— regardless of if they had been edited or not. But you just want to show him your favourite.
You swallow as you stare at it on the screen of your macbook. Working up the courage to turn the screen to him as he waits cluelessly. Does he even know you took this?
“This one too…” you hesitate a little as you swivel the laptop around on your lap.
“Oh. I like this one a lot.” He says, nodding and then glancing up from the screen to your semi-flushed face.
“Didn’t know you took that.” He chuckles, shrugging and almost seeming… like he has more to say about this situation.
Like something is laying on the tip of his tongue, just waiting to be said.
You think he’s not going to though, after a beat of silence, you nod.
“Yea… what actually are you doing in this photo?” You nervous laugh, and wonder what kind of answer he’s going to provide.
He runs a hand through his curls, brows raised a little at your question.
“What did you think I was doing?” He quizzes, the corner of his mouth turning up.
“I- well it looked quite… everyone in the audience was going wild. Were you trying to be a tease?”
“I wasn’t! I swear. I was playing the guitar.” He confirmed, yet smirking like he knew there was a two-way perception of the event.
“With your tongue?” You sighed out a laugh.
“You still didn’t answer me. What did you think I was doing?” He backtracks, eyes watching you intensely as you’re both entering some rather dangerous, untouched territory.
You’re quiet again, and he raises his brows still expecting a response.
You flush under his gaze, hand coming to cover your eyes. “It just looked very…”
“Very…?”
“Inappropriate.” You laughed, feeling like you were emotionally torturing yourself by letting this situation happen.
“How so?” He continues to push, wanting to hear more. Secretly adoring the way you get all flustered about it. How badly he wants you to tell him exactly what the movement of his tongue reminded you of.
“It just— you know what I mean, Harry!” You say, now being the one trying to backtrack out of this entire situation. That in the end is still technically your own fault.
You distract yourself with other photos, going in and trying to find another possible contender for his new post on instagram.
“Don’t try and avoid the conversation, love.” He chuckles at your sudden shy demeanour.
“Harry.” You place your hand over your face again trying to mentally reset yourself. Put your thinking back in line.
“Cmon! I’m just curious.” He tries to brush it off, but if he has to resort to begging, he honestly wouldn’t hesitate.
“I know you are, but— it’s weird!” You whine, wanting to die at the fact you had let this happen in the first place.
“I promise I won’t judge.” He places his hand over his heart, face serious, like he was swearing it on his bloodline.
You thought about it a little longer. He clearly was not going to leave you alone if he didn’t get an answer. You could try and lie, but he already knows anyway. He just wants to hear you say it.
“You know, Harry. You just want to hear me say it.” You murmur, bringing up the chocolaty drink to your lips to distract yourself.
“Sure, maybe I do. I wanna confirm my suspicions.” He proposes, a small shrug of his shoulders. You place the drink back on the coaster, staring at him. Eventually caving.
“It— everyone definitely thought it looked like you were, uh, giving oral.” You rushed out, trying to now act as nonchalant as possible to avoid further questioning.
I didn’t work.
“So everyone including you?” He asked.
“Well… yea.” Your cheeks were pink, and he smiled at your flustered voice.
“Dirty thing.” He chuckled, and you almost breathed a sigh of relief thinking maybe you could move on and pretend as if this never happened, but he continues on.
“Had you a little worked up, did I?”
“May I touch on how unprofessional this conversation is?” You bring up, trying to save yourself. But it’s evident in your voice you hardly mean it. You are admittedly a little curious as to where he’s going with this. Equally, if not more embarrassed than anything, but still curious.
“I suppose you can, yes.” He nods.
“But may I bring up how you undressing me with your eyes yesterday was unprofessional? Because unless I’m insane, you definitely were.” He’s cocky, and overconfident with his accusation.
Not that it can be really labelled as an accusation, given he’s not wrong at all.
“I—“ you swallow, “Okay. Whatever. Point proven.”
He laughs at your surrender, shuffling forward on the chair.
“So you were— that’s the kind of stuff you were thinking about me?” He rests his elbows on his knees, watching you intently.
“You are really trying to get something out of me aren’t you? What do you want to hear me say?” You raise your brows, adrenaline coursing through you.
“Just want you to tell me the truth. Be honest with me, since we’re talking about being professional. I think that’s a good start.” He sounds so gentle yet firm, and your devouring this dominant kind of trait he’s showing you.
“Communication and honesty is very important when it comes to professionalism.”
Pleasure has been simmering in your stomach since he walked through the door, and his persistence is beginning to pay off, since you’re starting to let your guard down.
“So you want me to tell you how wet I got after your little stunt last night? That if I wasn’t your employee, after the show you would have found me in your dressing room bent over on the table.”
“Waiting for you to come in there, all sweaty and ready to strip that teeny fucking vest off, and put your mouth to use.”
He’s got a dusting of red over his own cheeks now, blood rushing to his cock as he realised he cracked you open now. Your dirty words spilling out of your mouth after holding back seemingly since last night.
“That what you would’ve done? Bent yourself over my dressing room table waiting for me like a pretty little post-show gift?”
“Maybe so.” You feed into it, watching as his eyes darken with desire.
He sighs out, standing up promptly, “Alright, darling. I’m gonna offer you something. You don’t have to agree, but if you do we can stop at any time. Okay?”
“What exactly are you offering?” You ask as leans his tall frame down to you, hands bracketed on your hips.
“For me to pick you up, put you on that bed and strip you until I can bury my head between your legs.” He stated, matter of factly.
Your thighs are shaking so hard you’re clenching them together— clit throbbing at the pressure.
You can only look up at him and nod, to which he doesn’t take as an answer.
“Baby, need you to use your words. Tell me what you want.”
“Yes, Harry. Want that please.” You whine, very quickly becoming delusional at his close proximity.
He grunts as he picks you up, his arms firm around your body and he carry’s you the few feet to the bed. His lips hot as they suddenly come in contact with your jaw.
He pushes your legs open with his thigh, making you moan and push your hips forward.
“Needy girl.” He whispers, voice dirty and hot near your ear as he sucks on the skin below it.
His hands cascade down your body, finding the waistband of your sweatpants and tugging it down.
“Please, please touch me.” You’re wild, bucking your hips up. Wanting to get his tongue on you so bad.
He chuckles at your sudden spiral, how quickly you’ve unravelled before him. Truly like a present, all laid out waiting just for him.
He palms his hand over your damp front, “Soaking through already, fuckin’ hell.”
You groan as he rubs a pressured circle on your fabric-covered clit.
“Want to tell me who got you so wet?” He coos, slowly moving his fingers over you as he waits for an answer.
You give it to him shamelessly, “You. Want you so badly.”
He’s over the moon to finally have you like this. Because it became apparent rather quickly the crush he’d developed on you since you were hired. And he would be lying if he said he hadn’t fucked his fist at the thought of getting to touch you.
“Oh, you’re being so good for me now. Because I’ve got my hand between your pretty legs I bet.”
You cant even respond as he slides your drenched underwear down away from your tingling core.
He audibly groans at the sight of your bare, glistening pussy. Watching as you squirm under his stare.
“Jesus fuck, Y/N. How long have you been hiding this gorgeous cunt from me?”
“Too long.” You whimper.
His fingers slid through you, and he gathered up your arousal to play with your clit. Relishing the way it slides under his fingertips.
You were clenching around nothing as he gently rolled your clit between calloused fingers. Playing with it until you were a mess. Moaning and grinding up against his fingers. Begging for what he’d promised earlier.
“Your mouth, Harry. Need it. Anywhere.”
“S’that why your little hole is clenching so hard? Like it’s begging for me.” He watched, mesmerised as your hole pulsed around nothing, and leaked more clear arousal.
You look so delicious to him. And he took a moment to appreciate the fact you were about to let him clean up all that arousal pooling at your hole
He sunk down between your legs very slowly. Distracting himself a few times with mouthing over your fabric covered breasts.
Eventually making it there, so he could blow over your clit, letting you squirm at the teasing stimulation. You smelt amazing too, your sweet tangy scent making his mouth water.
He was grabbing at his cock, pushing at it trying to relieve pressure down there as he peppered kisses along your inner thigh.
“Stop teasing, H. Please I— fuck.” You hissed as he bit the seam of skin of your thigh.
“Cant handle it huh? Are you gonna come before I even get my tongue on you.”
“Want to finish around your mouth.” You plead with him. And he shakes his head with a laugh, anticipating your reaction as he leans forward to drag a long stroke through your slit.
Your whole body shakes with a moan. His velvety, hot tongue immediately leaving you a wreck.
“Harryyy…” You cry out, bucking your hips into his face.
“Gonna ruin your cunt, darling.” He murmurs into you, and you know it’s true with the way your hole is clenching.
He sucks your clit into his mouth before placing fast strokes over it. Flicking and rolling it between his tongue and lips.
The sounds of him lapping up your pussy are echoing through the room, further fuelling the fire that’s started in you.
Your whole jaw goes lax as he moves further down, gliding over your hole— pushing his tongue past your entrance.
“Fuck!” You moan, hips jolting, causing his hands to slide up and hold them into place.
He slides it into you as far as he can, nose bumping your clit. Making you realise very quickly that you’re going to finish around his mouth.
He moans into you, again the vibrations makes you writhe in his tight grip. “I- Harry- more!”
It’s making your whole body shake, and he’s pressed so far into you that it’s all you can feel. And it’s obvious that you’re about to come, just with the way your cunt is pulsing around his mouth.
“Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck. Harry, please, I’m gonna come!” You felt the burning spark fly through you, hitting you like a truck when his tongue curled and rocked inside you.
He’s humming and pressing himself so close you genuinely think he can’t breathe. And you realise immediately when the rubber band in snapped inside of you.
It gushed through your whole body, making you moan and cry in his grip. He couldn’t even explain the feeling of having you clenching around his tongue. It almost made him finish in his pants.
He lapped up every single drop he could. But he didn’t stop.
Your clit was so sensitive as he came back up to it with the same intensive pace.
You tried to push him off, “be a good girl, baby, give me another one.”
“So sensitive, Harry.” You whined, hand threading into his soft hair.
“Y’can take it.” He states, going back to sucking on your clit, and the outside of your entrance.
It made you a mess. A proper fucking mess.
You legs were being spread wide by the palm of his hands, and you were almost crying at how sensitive your pussy was.
You were always a five-minute-scroll-break kind of girl when it came to masturbation. So this came as a whole shock to your body. And it was so fucking hot from his perspective.
All he could hear was your filthy fucking whines, begging him one minute to stop and the next to go faster. And he was going insane at how sensitive your little hole was.
That was all he could feel. The clenching of your cunt, the absolute shaking mess your body was becoming.
His tongue flicked over your clit, just as you imagined he would after seeing him last night. And it was getting to messy, your arousal absolutely coating his mouth and chin.
“I-“ a deep suck of your clit, “I’m gonna fucking come!”
You writhed the whole way through your orgasm. Fucking into his face like it was a toy, grinding into it so hard your sure he was completely consumed by you.
And as you came down from the high, still shaking, he cleaned up down there again. Too good to waste, was his thought process. ‘You tasted like a dream’ you’re pretty sure you hear him mutter against you at some point.
His thumbs run over the dips of your hips to bring you back down to earth.
“Good girl, Baby. Took my mouth so fucking well.” He presses a final kiss on your clit as he stood up, your hands dragging up his back did.
“Feeling a little better too, i hope.”
“Yes. So good. H.” You panted, still in a bit of a daze.
“Next time,” he peppered a kiss on you shoulder, “tell me when you’re feeling all worked up okay.”
You nodded, hands sliding to rest in his hair.
“Or by all means, lay yourself out in my dressing room so I can make make come like you deserve.” He smiles at your little nod, still so out of it.
“My little gift, hm?” He coos, stroking a gentle hand down your face.
And he knows he’d do this moment a thousand times over with you. Just to see that smile flash over your lips.
———
#harry styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles smut#fanfiction#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fluff#harry styles oneshot#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles barcelona#he is so fucking hot I cant#that clip 🧎♀️#smut
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Stray Kids Reaction | NSFW | Being Stray kids' Stress Toy (MAKNAE LINE)
The times you become Skz'z personal stress toy
Word Count: 2.7k
A/N: What?! two updates in one week?!? Who am I?? Sorry for this taking forever, I was STRUGGLING with Maknae line. Like I knew what I wanted to write but the words truly would not come no matter what I tried. But it’s here it’s done and I really hope you enjoy!!
AGAIN THIS IS VAGUELY EDITED SO PLEASE BE KIND🥹
Warnings: free use (literally all of them), sub/dom dynamics, subspace, nicknames, teasing, creampie, orgasm denial, voyeurism, overstimulation, cock-warming, biting, mirror sex, filming, bondage, blow jobs, thigh job, handjobs (It's 4am I'm so tired and definitely missing something, please let me know if something needs to be added)
Read at your own discretion
JISUNG
Han is another part of the insatiable line, another member who wouldn’t pass up on a chance to feel you wrapped around him. Jisung’s favorite thing is cockwarming. It’s like a game, he sits you pretty in his lap and neither of you gets to cum until he finishes his lyrics. To the others they think it’s torture, but to him it’s heaven, he gets to have you sit pretty on his cock and it forces him to finish his lyrics faster. At least that’s what he tells himself.
He swears it’s only cockwarming, enough to help him focus on finishing his lyrics.
“Come on baby, just until I finish this part! It’s the last one I’m working on,” he pleads, hands skimming along your sides while you stand between his legs.
Each time you roll your eyes, because as soon as he gets his dick anywhere near you all other thoughts go out the window.
“You and I both know you won’t be able to wait that long,” you say for what feels like the millionth time. You think you’d know better than to trust his words by now. But with the way he looks up at you with sparkling eyes, how could you ever say no?
You find yourself sinking onto him, eyes rolling into the back of your head at the way his cock fills you. Jisung lets out a low moan as you settle yourself into his lap, his own eyes fluttering. You rest your head against his shoulder, arms loosely hanging around his neck.
When you’re settled he’s quick to get to work, mumbling to himself as he peaks over your shoulder to write. You do your best not to think of the cock between your legs. But for as much as you tease Jisung for thinking with his dick, you’re no better.
Thirty minutes pass before it starts to get to you. You can feel the subtle twitches his body gives whenever your breath tickles his neck. Jisung isn’t faring much better. You clench around him every so often. Your breath hitching with each subtle shift of his hips. Eventually you’re panting into his heck, hips subtly grinding into him.
“Baby you’re making this harder for me,” he pants, hands resting on your hips to still you.
“Fuck the lyrics. Just fuck me already,” you beg pulling him into a rough kiss. He doesn’t hesitate, planting his feet firmly on the ground as he begins to rock into you like his life depends on it. The force of his thrusts jolt you against the desk, making you scramble to balance yourself before you slide off his lap.
“Sungie be careful, you’re gonna break it again,” you say through dragged out moans. The computer chair squeaks in protest, springs undoubtedly being put to their limit. You can’t blame them, so are you. Your hands sit behind you to balance yourself against the desk, whining at the way Jisung drills his cock into you.
“I’ll buy another one, I’ll buy as many as I need to keep fucking you like this,” he rushes out. His hold on you is firm as he fucks you in his lap. The way he’s gripping onto your sides, fingers digging into the flesh because he knows you’ll love the marks it leaves. He drags you over his cock again and again, using you as his personal fleshlight.
“Can’t get enough of this pussy shit, ride me baby, there you go. Fuck take it like it’s yours babe,” he moans out when you sit up suddenly, taking control of your movements. It’s like your body has a mind of its own, your hips slamming down onto him.
Your thighs burn with every movement, but it feels far too good for you to care. Your hands rest behind his head, one hand gripping the back of his curly hair while your other steadies yourself on the back of his chair.
“Ji- fuck! Baby please need it, needa cum!” you cry out, thankful for the fact that the entire studio is sound-proof.
“Yeah? I’ll make you cum baby. Come on, cum all over me so I can fill this fucking pussy,” He growls, hand reaching down to pinch at your clit. The feeling sends you head first into your orgasm. You fall against Jisung as you cum, still rocking yourself against him as you feel him shake through his own orgasm. He bites his lip as he cums, still managing to let a few swears slip through. He falls back in the chair as he comes down from his own high.
“Told you you wouldn’t last,” you pant against his shoulder. He huffs out a laugh, jostling you against his chest.
“Lasted longer than last time, that’s a win in my book baby,” he grins, wiggling his eyebrows at you. You only roll your eyes.
FELIX
Lix who makes you insatiable. You’re not quite sure how he does it. But one look from him and you’re teary eyed as you cling to him, begging for him to stay in you. It always starts with a quick text, telling you to meet him wherever he needs. No one bats an eye when you waltz in during practice, lix beckoning you over with a crook of his fingers. When you reach him, he’s pulling you into his lap, your bottoms already tossed to the floor. You’re not surprised when no one reacts at Felix’s moans as he fills you up.
“Sorry angel, just need to cum in you okay?,” he pants, hips already rutting up into you. You can only offer him a small hum, brain going a little foggy with him inside you. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, tucking your face into the side of his neck as you feel the pleasure overtake you.
“Promise I’ll be quick, angel,” he says, though he knows he’s lying. The thing with Felix is he knows what having his cock does to you. He knows he makes you desperate, mindless even. And he lives for it. The way you turn into a bunny in heat, Hips working desperately against his, though he’s not sure you even realize that you’re moving. Not with the way you stare up at him with a dazed look in your eyes. He can see the way all the thoughts float out of your head, all thoughts except fucking him that is. Hiccuping whimpers accompanying the sound of skin meeting skin.
“Five minutes, Lix,” Minho calls out from the other side of the practice room. You whine at Minho’s words, clenching around Felix, hands clinging onto him impossibly tighter.
“How do you expect me to not stay in her all day when she’s clenching like that,” he grunts, hands gripping at your soft sides. You keen, your hips dragging along his in teasing circles.
“Lixie,” you bat your eyelashes at him, mouth in a small pout.
“Want me to stay in our cunt all day, sweetheart?” He says, hips lifting to meet yours.
“Yes, please Lixie. Please I’ll be good,” you beg, eyes sparkling with tears. How could he not give in to your pleas when you look at him like that?
Felix flips you onto your back, a soft gasp escaping you as he presses your legs to your chest, exposing your fluttering walls to him and everyone else in the room. He knows they’re watching, they always do when they get the chance.
“Greedy fucking girl, you just love being used don’t you?” he rasps, slipping back into you with ease. Felix sets an unrelenting pace, somehow hitting deeper inside you with this angle.
“Yes! Love it!,” you cry out, face contorting into a blissed out expression. Your hands scrabble to hold onto something, settling on his arms as he holds you in place.
He smirks, glancing up to watch the way the members watch the scene in front of them. He lives for the way the members' eyes darken when they watch you. You’re far too gone to notice the way the members are staring holes into you.
“You’re so far gone angel, you don’t even care that everyone is watching you, hmm?” he teases, tilting your face to watch the members. You whine, walls fluttering at the dark stares they all give you.
“Only care about getting this pretty cunt stuffed, doesn’t even matter where, either does it?”Felix coos, turning your attention back to him.
“No, just need to be full all the time,” you slur, mind growing foggier by the second. Felix takes notice, picking up his pace easily.
“I know angel, promise we’ll keep you full. Why don’t you cum for me, hmm? Show them how pretty you look when you make a mess, yeah?” he says, hand reaching down to rub at your clit. The pleasure is heightened with how sensitive you are. It doesn’t take long before you’re sent straight off the edge. You cum with a broken cry, tensing in his hold. Felix lets out an appreciative moan, filling you up with his own cum. You’re still shaking as you cum down from your high, letting Felix dote over you as if he didn’t just give you an earth shattering orgasm.
SEUNGMIN
There’s only one way to describe Seungmin’s time with you: sweet torture. Seungmin’s a hard dom through and through. When he agreed to the arrangement of using you that when you’re with him it's all about him.
For instance the outfit you wear as you stroll into the company building. Skirt barely covering the tops of your thighs, top showing off your plush sides just enough for his hands to fit over them, even the platformed shoes he bought you as a gift just so you can be closer for him to leave marks against your shoulder.
Seungmin loves watching you walk into the practice room all dolled up for him. He’s quick to pull you over to him, hands grasping at anywhere he can get his hands on you. You’re just as desperate as you reach up, pressing yourself as close as you can get.
It isn’t long before he has you writhing in his grasp. The songs he was memorizing are long forgotten as he presses against your backside. He makes you cross your legs over the other, hands braced against the piano as he uses just your thighs to get off.
“Minnie! You’re being mean!” you whine, still twisting your hips to have him slip inside you.
He clicks his tongue, pinching your side as he angles your hips higher, his cock now deliberately hitting your clit with every stroke. You can only moan, face contorting at the sparks of pleasure that shoot through your core.
“No, you’re just being a greedy slut,” he grunts. Seungmin smirks, leaning down to drag his lips up to your ear.
“This isn’t about you. Let me have my fun and maybe I’ll be nice enough to cum in you, okay?” he says, hips continuing their unrelenting pace.
You whine, hands twitching with the need to grip him, but the pleasure is already making it hard to keep yourself upright. You know the second you let go of the piano, your body will crumple to the floor. Instead you lean your body back into his chest, his name falling from your lips in a desperate mantra.
Seungmin isn’t handling this any better. He’s thankful your back is facing him, that way he can hide the way his own face twists in pleasure. Seungmin’s mouth hangs open in a low moan, cock twitching at the feeling of your soft thighs hugging his cock. He can’t help but love the way you look falling apart in front of him. A stark contrast to how you pranced through the door, offering him a bright smile as if you didn’t know exactly where you’d end up. Clothes half pulled off, hands clutching at the top of the piano, no doubt ruining the sheet music he’d spent hours adding notes to. And it's all for him. All he has to do is send you a text, and you’re ready to be used by him. That thought alone is what pushes him over the edge.
“Fuck,” he mutters out, the only warning he can give you, unable to stop himself from cumming. You gasp at the feeling of warmth leaking against you, still partially delirious from the pleasure.
“Minnie!” you sob as you look down, watching his cum leak across your thighs, hitting the top of the piano. His hips still buck against you, hands keeping you firmly in place while he rides out his own high.
“You said if I was good-” you cry, falling back against him again, core throbbing with the need to have him in you.
“You were good, but I never said when I would cum in you pup,” he laughs against your neck. He finally pulls himself away from you, leaving you to balance on your legs that feel like they’ve turned to jello. You shiver glancing up at him with teary eyes as you struggle to regain your composure. He only grins at your pout, hand reaching up to smooth out your top.
“Maybe later. Now fix your clothes and let’s go.”
JEONGIN
Innie, you’ve come to find out over the past few months is quite literally insatiable.
Jeongin for the most part doesn’t call on you for stress relief, and when he does it’s usually quickies in the form of handjobs or using your mouth right before he leaves for a shoot. But the first time you joined them on tour was something you’ll never forget. It was the night after their third show and he’d texted you to come to his hotel room. You’d found him sitting on his bed, towel lazily wrapped around his hips as he palmed himself.
“Come here. Need you, now.” he calls out, flicking the wet hair out of his eyes. The way his sharp gaze watches you leaves no room for arguing. You stand in between his legs, ready to drop to your knees when he tugs you to him, manhandling you underneath him. You let out a quiet gasp as you look up at him with wide eyes. He smirks, leaning down to whisper in your ear,
“What is it? Didn’t think I could be like Channie or Minho Hyung, hmm? His voice tickles your ear. Your eyes flutter at the sensation, his grin widens in response. His next words send shivers down your spine.
“Trust me baby, I’m a lot worse."
The room is filled with the sound of Jeongin’s hips meeting your ass, but to be quite honest you can’t hear much of what’s going on around you. With your face pressed into the sheets, the only sound you can really hear is your muffled cries as Jeongin uses you. The robe belt Jeongin had woven around your wrists and ankles digs into your skin from the hogtie position he keeps you in. Your arms are tied behind your back, fists clenched at the small of your back. Your legs tremble with the need to close them, instead they’re forced to stay spread and bent at the knee. Your muscles ache from how long you’ve been held like this.
You know you’ll be sore and bruised tomorrow morning, but with the way Jeongin thrusts into you can’t find it in you enough to care right now.
“Innie- fuck, Innie please,” you sob out, as he drives his cock into your sweet spot relentlessly.
He grips the knot at the base of your hips, tugging on it until your front arches off the bed.
“Go on, you can cum again. Just know I’m gonna keep fucking you until I’m done,” he says, his hips somehow driving into you harder.
The scream you let out is embarrassing. But the orgasm that rips through you has you shaking harder in Jeongin’s hold. Your walls spasming as you feel yourself gushing around Jeongin’s cock. You can feel the wetness that coats your inner thighs from you squirting. You’re still writhing in Jeongin’s hold. Little aftershocks make you cry into the sheets with each of Jeongin’s thrusts. He groans, hips slowing to a shallow grind as he watches you cum around him. He leans down, panting into your ear heavily. Despite the intense orgasm you just felt, you can’t help the way you twitch at his next words.
“Look at that… I didn’t know you could squirt baby, how many times do you think I can make you do that for me before the sun comes up?” he asks, grinning at the way your body responds to him.
Dividers by : @/cafekitsune
#stray kids reactions#stray kids smut#stray kids scenarios#stray kids imagines#stray kids x reader#skz reactions#skz smut#skz scenarios#skz imagines#skz x reader#writing#✍🏼
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trent being a clingy needy bf? xx
menace - t.a.a. x reader
a/n : i’m so fucked w finals season but it’s almost break for me 😇 just gotta make it thru this week 😞 also i made this a drabble SORRYYYY but i think this is better short and sweet!
cw : swearing, clingy trent obv, reader getting increasingly more annoyed throughout the course of the fic, sexual insinuation, fluff
pairing : trent alexander arnold x fem!reader
wc : 704
---
it started off as bearable, but god, as the day progressed, you couldn’t deal with him anymore.
the him being sir trent alexander arnold.
it had just so happened that you and trent had aligned a few days off at the same time. this was a rare occurrence since your busy schedules kept you swamped 25/8.
this was the first of many days off. you just needed to get some things done around the house, but trent had other plans.
you almost took up his many offers to just lay in bed all day, but you knew you would feel better if you got things done first.
of course, trent wasn’t making this easy on you.
“c’mere, beautiful,”
“please stay here, just for a few minutes.”
“so sleepy, just nap with me for an hour, please!”
you had to resist the urge to physically roll your eyes at his constant pestering. you had to put your foot down and stop him before you ended up giving in.
“no, trent! i have to finish some things up, i’ll be done soon.”
he was still cuddled up in the bed when you finally left the bedroom to head to the kitchen. you began putting away clean dishes and cleaning the counter tops. as you wiped it down, you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist.
“y/n come back to beddd~” trent whined while propping his head on your shoulder to get a better look at what you were doing that was so important. you could feel him kiss his teeth when he saw you cleaning.
“i said, wait. if you keep annoying. me, it’s just gonna take longer!” you groaned when he didn’t let go of your body. “trent, let go. i need to go get-“
“you look so sexy in these shorts, just come back to bed.” you felt his hands slide down to cup your ass.
you rolled your eyes, a smile forming on your cheeks. “you can’t seduce me into going back into bed!” you sing songed as you turned to face him. his arms had you trapped in between him and the counter. he still his droopy eyes and his hair was a little frizzy.
you swiftly ducked out of his grip from under his arm and headed to your office, turning on your computer to print a few things. you heard the soft shuffling of socks on the floor, and low and behold-
“can you just come back, pleaseee!”
“stop it! how old are you? just give me a few minutes.” you had started to whine like a two year old, his complaints giving you a headache.
you placed the papers down and pushed past him to go to the living room, cleaning up blankets and books laying around. you grabbed the watering can and started tending to your wilting plants. all of a sudden-
“ah- get off me! trent! let go, now!”
your feet were hovering over the floor thanks to your boyfriend who had had enough of waiting. he threw your body over his shoulder easily and walked towards the bedroom.
you kicked your legs around, trying to wriggle out of his grip. you slumped against him when your efforts to escape from his death trap went in vain.
“this isn’t funny, y’know?”
he chucked despite your comment. “i can’t wait any longer, sorry.”
a stubborn smile broke across your face before he threw you onto the bed. you bounced onto the fluffy mattress with a gasp. “trent!”
he giggled softly before throwing himself down on top of you. “oww, trent you’re not light!” you found yourself laughing as he kissed your neck.
“shhh, just wanna cuddle.” he reached over and pulled the duvet over the both of you, wrapping his arms around your waist. he eventually let you breathe by rolling onto his side a little bit. you finally gave into his touch with a sigh, throwing your leg over his hips.
you reached your arms around his neck and nuzzled your head into his chest, his scent all over his wrinkled shirt.
“god, you’re a menace, you know that?” you laughed into his embrace and he responded by hugging you tighter.
“you love it.”
#trent alexander arnold smut#trent alexander arnold fanfic#trent alexander arnold x reader#trent alexander arnold fanfiction#trent alexander arnold#trent alexander arnold smut x reader#trent alexander arnold imagine#trent alexander arnold fluff#trent alexander arnold angst#trent alexander arnold fluff x reader#trent alexander arnold angst x reader#trent alexander arnold drabble#trent alexander imagines#trent alexander x you#taa#fanfic#fanfiction#football x reader#football#fem!reader#neybelle#football smut#smut#football fanfic#angst#fluff#football fluff#judebelle#football oneshot#football fanficiton
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Memories & Delusions
PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE
SYNOPSIS: Jason Todd is dead, you have to remember that; even if the newest villain in town is both incredibly sexy and reminds you of the boy you used to love.
FANDOM: DC
PAIRING(S): Jason Todd x Fem!Reader
RATING: PG
CHARACTERS MENTIONED: Bruce, Alfred, Dick, Tim
GENRE/AU: fluff, different timeline AU (not mentioned in detail but the timeline is different than canon), canon divergence, reader is kind of like Stephanie so NOT Bruce’s kids but she does live in the manor.
WORD COUNT: 3.9k
WARNINGS: Swearing, mentions of blood and injuries.
A/N: I could fs do a part two to this ;)
DEDICATIONS: Myself for having this idea for more than two years and finally getting it out in writing in some way
CREDITS: N/A
“Jesus Christ! Who the fuck is this guy, Batman?” You exclaim, panting hard through your mask; whoever this Red Hood guy is… he really knows your team's weaknesses. It’s disconcerting.
Weirdly enough, he’s left you mostly alone.
Bruce shrugs from across the room. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”
It’s a blur of movement as Red Hood tries to attack mostly Bruce, only attacking Dick or you if you get in the way.
He’s said almost nothing since this fight started.
After a few minutes, Bruce sends a signal and jumps out of the half destroyed building; Dick follows and jumps out shortly after.
Leaving just you and Gothams latest criminal.
You’re about to turn to jump again, when suddenly your wrist is caught in Red Hood’s hand.
The familiarity of it makes you gasp and freeze.
He stares down at you, intimidating and silent through his red helmet.
Returning his stare, with as much fiery energy as you can muster, you try to pull your wrist away; His grip is like iron and you can’t.
“Don’t get in my way, Y/n.” He says, making your heart drop with the use of your civilian name. “I won’t choose between you and my goal.”
Your back is rigid and you’re breathing has stopped… if he knows your name, that means he probably knows everyone else’s too.
Fuck.
He finally lets go, brushing past your stiff body.
You’re too shocked to follow him.
….
“He knew my name, Bruce!” You say, feeling panicked. “Do you know what that means?”
Bruce nods curtly. “It means you aren’t suiting up until we’ve taken him down.” You try to protest but Bruce holds a hand up to cut you off. “It’s not up for discussion.”
You fidget with the small red pendant hanging around your neck, something you do whenever you’re feeling too many emotions.
It reminds you of Jason, the first boy you’ve ever been in love with and also the last; Jason was also Bruce’s second adopted son.
Jason Todd died five years ago.
But when he was alive… There was something special about him. He was always so eager to help Bruce by being robin.
That was back before you had your own suit; really, you’d only gotten a superhero identity so you could hunt down the joker and get revenge for Jason, but Bruce had managed to convince you not to do that in the last five years.
Probably for the best, even if seventeen is too young for someone to die; even if having a strong bond ripped away from you before it could become anything still hurt so badly.
You follow Bruce down into the batcave. “What do we know about Red Hood? Do we have any idea how he originated? It seems like he just popped out of nowhere.”
Bruce contemplates his answer as he unlocks the bat computer. “All we know is that he would have had to fly under our radar for months in order to take over the whole underground drug ring.”
You over hover his shoulder, trying to see what’s on the screen below him. “I don’t understand how we wouldn’t hear anything about him? With that many people who work for him, you’d think one of them would mention something.”
He hums in response. “They must be terrified of him.”
Alfred inserts himself into the conversation and ushers you back into the main part of the manor. “Alright, Miss. Y/n, You’re officially off duty indefinitely.” He pauses. “Like Master Bruce said, it is safer if you disconnect yourself from your hero identity.”
You frown. “If he knows my real name, he probably knows where I live.”
“He also told you, quote ‘don’t get in my way’ end quote.” Alfred tuts. “He clearly has no intention of hurting you as a civilian.”
You huff and head up to your bedroom, feeling like you really need to be out there but not really knowing why.
You suppose you don’t know what to do with your time anymore, now that you’ve been superhero-ing for so long.
When was the last time you read a book? Or watched a movie, just because you wanted to? It’s been too long…
Your bookshelves mostly carry decorative encyclopedias and other books that would bore you to sleep, so you leave your room and head just down the hallway.
The door creaks as you push open and clicks when you push it shut; then, you’re left in the silence of Jason Todd’s bedroom. Unchanged and untouched from the last moment he was in here.
It’s a little messy but nothing out of the ordinary for a teenage boy; the bed was never made, and his clothes were ever put in his drawers despite them being washed.
There’s books pulled out and just scattered in places, schoolbooks, comic books, novels… finally you spot what you wanted to find.
It’s a very old and very worn copy of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, something the two of you used to read together when you’d sneak onto the roof of the manor at nighttime.
You’d watch the stars and one of you would read the book out loud, until eventually you both would pass out and give Bruce a heart attack the next morning.
Maybe it was time to revisit that tradition, even if you were only reading to yourself.
Bruce and Alfred are in the Cave so you find your way into the roof and lay back. The shingles are definitely more uncomfortable without Jason to lay on, but it’s still a nice feeling nonetheless.
Just the act of laying under the stars with that book in your hands, makes you feel a kind of warmth that you haven’t felt in years.
You close your eyes and take a long, deep breath of night air; It’s fresh and ever so slightly damp, but in a way that makes you feel nice. The cold nips at your body in all the right ways.
Unfortunately, all bliss is momentary, and someone clearing their throat makes you jump a couple centimeters upwards.
You’re met with the bright red helmet of Red Hood.
“Pride and Prejudice, huh?” He says casually, though you're pretty sure he has a voice changer on, which makes his voice sound more irritated than it probably is.
You back up a few inches. “Bru-” Red Hood slaps a hand over your mouth before you can finish yelling for help.
You squirm in his grip, but he just maneuvers you so that your back is to his chest and you can barely move which makes your body lock up again— you can’t help the feeling of familiarity that settles in your stomach, or the way your body reacts to his.
Worst of all, he smells just like… no, it must just be where you are.
Jason Todd is dead.
And yet.
“Relax, Y/n, I’m not here to hurt you.” Something about him makes you listen and you relax your body. He kind of half-scoffs in response. “Are you done?”
You nod as best you can. He releases you.
“Who— why are you here?” You say, trying to ignore the fact that everything about this masked man reminds you of Jason.
Your chest rises and falls irregularly as he stares at you.
His head snaps away randomly. “Why should I tell you that?”
“Don’t answer my question with a question.”
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to.”
There’s a look of defiance shared between the two of you, or, at least, on your end. You can’t actually see his face so you’re really just assuming.
You spin away and blow out a labored breath. “God, I must be going insane…” Even the way he talks with you sounds like Jason.
“You’re so short, you look like a bunny who lost its carrot.” He says with a laugh.
“I do not!” You exclaim angrily, your mouth dropping open. “Okay, that’s it, I’m calling Bruce.” Your hand slips into your pocket to pull out your phone, and just as it's out of your pocket, Red Hood grabs your wrist; he traps it in one spot and yanks the phone from your hand.
He gently sets it on the ground. “Tell that fucker whatever you want, but wait until I’m gone.” The tone in his voice sends a chill down your spine. He seems so angry…
With that, he leaves, taken the same way that you took off the roof.
You stand there until you hear the roar of his motorbike, and then you finally retreat from the roof with the book clutched tightly to your chest.
…..
“I’m going with you, Bruce. You can’t stop me.” You say, already moving to try to grab your suit.
“No, you’re not.” He says sternly, blocking your path. “You need to stay out of this fight.”
You raise your eyebrows in challenge. “I’m going whether you let me wear that suit or not.” Bruce apparently doesn’t like this because he frowns even harder than before. You continue, “You can’t go alone. Dick is out of town and Tim is at school. Let me come.”
“You forget I did this by myself for quite a while before I adopted Dick.” He says firmly, leaving no room for argument.
Bruce doesn’t need your help, you know that; helping him isn’t your real goal.
Ever since the rooftop incident with Red Hood you’d gone into some sort of obsessive spiral over his similarities to Jason.
You feel like you need to talk to him again, touch him again… just to see why he’s so familiar; you feel insane.
The deepest parts of your brain scream at you that it’s not just similarities, that he really is Jason but… he can’t be; you watched them bury Jason’s body.
“There’s something else going on with you.” Bruce says, basically sizing you up.
You stiffen, which unfortunately gives away your next lie. “There’s nothing going on with me.” No excuse comes to mind so you don’t say anything more.
Bruce pauses for a beat.
“This has nothing to do with Red Hood.”
“Okay? Why would that matter?” You say dismissively, but also way too fast. “I don’t think keeping me locked up at home helps anyone.”
He sighs and finally caves. “Fine, you can come.”
…..
You aren’t sure how this situation devolved so quickly, but your communications got cut off a while ago and you haven’t been able to find Bruce or navigate very well through the rubble.
You’re bleeding heavily from a few different cuts and you’re pretty sure you sprained your ankle.
The faint cackle of the Joker makes you dive under a fallen piece of concrete, because if he comes this way he’ll surely kill you.
But the laugh recedes so you crawl out and sit against it instead.
You’re just about to start sobbing from the pain when you hear footsteps again; you go silent and try to move but you don't allow that.
You see a flash of red, and then Red Hood turns a corner into your line of sight.
“Christ’s sake, Y/n.” He mumbles. “What happened?” He approaches and drops down so he’s sitting on his feet, he stares for a moment, and you assume he’s assessing your injuries.
“You can’t call me that— here.” You hiss when he presses a finger against your ankle.
He stands up and takes both your hands, completely ignoring what you said. “Up. But don’t stand on your bad ankle.”
You grip his hands and stand up, holding your bad ankle in the air; Red Hood scoops you up bridal style not a moment later.
You squeal. “What are you doing?”
He stops walking and turns the face of his helmet directly toward you. “I’m taking you back to my base so I can help you get fixed up.” He interrupts you before you can speak, answering the question you were going to ask. “Batman isn’t here anymore, he went to follow after the Joker.”
It’s a rough walk to his bike, and it lasts for about ten minutes; ten awkward minutes of you being carried by Red Hood.
Red Hood who’s supposed to be a criminal and your enemy. Red Hood who brings you more comfort than he should just because of who he reminds you of.
He settles you onto the bike, pulling out an extra helmet before he speeds off.
…..
“Jesus, you sprained your ankle really badly.” He curses, performing whatever medical procedures as you hiss and whine at the pain.
He’s already stitched and/or dressed any of the open wounds you had and he saved the worst for last.
“Okay,” he says absent-mindedly. “I can’t do this properly with this thing.”
He reaches for his helmet but you stop him. “You’re taking your helmet off?”
He hesitates, then nods slowly. “I have to. If you don’t want to see, then shut your eyes until I’m done.”
You nod and squeeze your eyes shut.
He sighs softly and gets back to working on your ankle.
…..
“I swear to god, Bruce, it’s him. Red Hood is Jason.” You say, purposfully making your voice flat and void of emotion. “He has to be.”
Bruce just stares.
And stares.
Sympathetically, softly. But he stares.
“Jason has been dead for a long time, Y/n, and you know that.”
“No— I know, but he can’t be— that has to be him.” You back up into one of the chairs in the batcave, trying to calm your racing heart; you still try to keep a calm outward facade.
“What makes you think he’s Jason?” Bruce asks.
You weakly gesture at nothing with your hand. “Just look at him. He’s— everything about him is the same.”
Tim snorts from the computer. “The running drug rings and murders?”
“Not appropriate, Tim.” Dick says flatly and Tim’s face falls quickly.
You don’t blame him, you probably would have made a joke like that too.
Shaking your head, you stare at the floor past Bruce. “They sound the same, they talk the same way, they look similar— hell, they even smell the same.”
Bruce’s brows furrow. “How do you know what he smells like?”
“Uh…” you stall. “You know, close combat.”
Apparently, he drops it even though he clearly doesn’t believe you, because he asks another question. “We’ve never seen Red Hood unmasked, how do you know they look similar?”
You shrug. “They just do. There’s just something about him. I haven’t been able to shake the feeling for a while.”
It’s silent again for several long moments.
Then Bruce shakes his head absentmindedly.
“Jason is dead, Y/n. No matter how much we miss him, he can’t come back.”
But he’s wrong, he has to be.
Because no one is that similar to someone. You’re sure of it.
……
Your cheeks are wet and your eyes are starting to become raw from you rubbing at them.
Sobbing pathetically on the rooftop of the manor because you had to be reminded about a death that happened a long time ago is not the highlight of your day.
It’s stupid, going from sure of yourself, to telling yourself you’re so stupid for ever thinking it could be true in the first place.
There’s footsteps beside you, but you don’t look up. You don’t care enough to see who it is.
You fidget with the necklace around your neck as you sniffle into your knees.
Something clicks and then hisses as if air pressure is being released before you hear a tiny thud, and then someone pulls you into them.
You know who it is now.
“What’s wrong?” He asks quietly. You know you could look up and confirm your suspicions at any moment but you just can’t bring yourself to do it.
It’s not true, after all, because it can’t be. It’s not possible.
You shrug against him. “I’m reopening old wounds for no reason.” You pause. “Why do you trust me?”
He’s silent, contemplative for a while. “You’re you.”
You laugh dryly. “That doesn’t explain anything.”
“You haven’t even bothered to look have you?” His hand strokes lines in your hair. “You could. I don’t think I’d mind.”
“I don’t want to know.” You say, wrapping your arms around his waist. “I’m not ready for that.”
He nods, you can feel the movement through his body, even though it’s subtle.
You sit, wrapped up in his arms for a long while before he clears his throat softly and asks, “what old wounds have you been reopening?”
Your eyes well again, but you choke back the tears. “An old… friend, I guess. He died.” You start to pull back but you don’t look at his face.
Instead, you bury your face in your hands again. He lets you pull back. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
You shrug. “It was a long time ago, he just meant a lot to me— and it’s really hard because you remind me so much of him.”
He makes a sort of strangled sound and then clears his throat again but more rough this time. “Why do you say that?”
His voice sounds even more similar without the helmet and voice changer. This man is going to be the death of you. Maybe literally. “I don’t… I don’t know. It’s just everything.” You shake your head and laugh sardonically. “It’s driving me insane.”
“How did he die?” His voice is darker than before, and there’s a sort of undertone you can’t place.
“Brutally.” You stop, take a deep breath, and offer only a bit more context. “The Joker.”
He hums. “The Joker‘s alive and ruling this dumb city.” He pauses. “How do you think your friend would feel about that?”
“Probably about the same as I do. Sick.” You run a hand through your hair, purposefully trying to avoid seeing his face. “That’s why I became a hero, you know. I wanted to kill the joker because he killed Ja- um, my friend.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“People stopped me before I did something I couldn’t come back from.” You say, wrapping your arms around your legs. “I hope the joker suffers a terrible death, but I don’t think it should be by my hands. He wins if I spend the rest of my existence regretting it.”
Red Hood picks up his helmet and clicks it back on. “Right.” He stands and stares down at you. “I have to leave now.”
You shudder at his sudden coldness, and stand abruptly. “Okay, I— um, goodbye…?” You want to smack yourself at how unsure you sound. “Did I say something wrong?”
He shakes his head. “I just don’t know why you would ever regret ridding the world of someone like The Joker, that’s all.”
Stiffly, you nod and wipe your hands on your pants.
“Sorry about your friend.” He finishes, before leaving you alone on the roof again. “Too bad I didn’t know him.”
Basically, crushing any hopes you might’ve had that he was Jason.
……
This is an atrociously stupid idea, you know; driving directly into the den of Gotham's biggest drug lord is the smartest thing to do.
But Gotham's biggest drug lord is Red Hood, and you’re fairly sure he won’t hurt you. Mostly.
His lackeys though, don’t seem so forgiving.
“Who the hell are you?” The man who barks the question at you, is raggedy looking and has the worst, most distasteful tattoos you’ve seen in your life.
“I’m here to see Red Hood.” You amend quickly, “I’m a friend of his.”
“Yeah, right.” The other guard says, a bulky looking woman who is also insanely beautiful… unsettlingly so. “A fragile little thing like you, friends with our boss… please.”
You scoff. “Trust me, I’m not fragile.” Stopping, you contemplate whether it’s a good idea to start something, considering your ankle is still healing. “Just call him.”
She rolls her eyes. “Fine, whatever.”
An old phone hangs on the wall and she picks up the receiver and quickly dials a number. “Hey, I have a woman here who says she’s the bosses friend— her name? I have no clue— Oi, what’s your name?” The woman barks at you.
“Y/n.”
“Her name’s Y/n.” She’s silent for a minute while we all wait, then she hangs up the phone aggressively and yanks your arm into her grip. “Lucky. Let’s go.”
The corridors are a bit confusing to navigate, but you’re mostly just following the woman, who seems very familiar with them.
After ten minutes you reach a door, it matches almost every other door, but it has ‘boss’ written crudely on it in spray paint.
“You’re on your own from here.” She says gruffly before stomping away.
You take a moment to collect yourself before you knock, and the door swings open before you can even finish knocking.
“Why are you here?” Red Hood sounds breathless behind his mask, as if something winded him. “How did you remember how to get here?”
“I’m… actually not sure.” You chuckle quietly to yourself as Red Hood pulls you inside.
He sits down at a desk after pulling a chair out for you to sit in. “Again, why are you here?”
Your heart seizes for a moment as if the reason why you’re here hit you all over again. “I want you to show me who you are.”
“Are you sure?” Red Hood questions slowly, his body locking up. “You’re not going to like it.”
You nod curtly. “Yes, I need to know.”
He takes a deep breath and stands up, coming right up close to you. Far enough that you could see his face clearly but close enough to have your knees buckling.
He reaches up and presses a button you can’t see. The helmet hisses and opens, he pulls it off.
And your jaw drops.
Standing there, in grown up glory, black hair, green eyes that used to kill you, is Jason Fucking Todd.
“You’re— You’re not— dead.” You stammer, almost reaching out to touch him before you yank your hand back.
You’re so irrationally angry and also relieved and devastated all at the same time.
Jason sets the helmet down. You can’t decide whether to hug him and never let go or slap him for waiting so long to tell you. “That’s a… complicated story.” He pauses. “I promise I’ll tell you that story but I just— can’t get into that right now.”
You nod slowly. “Okay… that means I can get fucking pissed now.”
You’ve clearly confused him when you wrap your hands around his waist and squeeze tightly while also cursing him out. “I can’t believe you waited this long to show me.”
You can see the smart-ass comment on the tip of his tongue but he bites it back. “I knew you’d find out eventually.” His eyes caress your body and there’s a look of longing lingering in his eyes; he seems to be contemplating something. “Fuck it, I’ve been waiting too long to do this.”
You barely have time to react as Jason lowers his face down to yours and kisses you; As soon as you realize what he’s doing, you kiss back.
His hands go to rest on your hips, as you slowly get pushed back into his desk behind you. When you hit the ledge of if, Jason lifts you onto its surface, and pulls back.
“I’ve wanted to do that since we were kids.” He says quietly.
You gently touch your lips, almost in disbelief. “I’ve been wanting you to do that since we were kids.”
All content belongs to @beingsuneone , do not repost, copy or post on other platforms without my permission.
#dc#dc x reader#jason todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#jason todd x y/n#batfam x reader#batfam x y/n#batfam x you#red hood#red hood x reader#redhood x reader#redhood#dc universe
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Professor Hoffman
Pairing: (professor!) Mark Hoffman x (f!) reader
Word count: 3.1k (oops)
Warnings: 18+!! this is absolute filth. Daddy kink, choking, oral (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), dirty talk, p in v penetration, creampie, age gap (everyone is over 18!!), praise/degradation. Mark being a bastard. I’m so sorry
Summary: You weren’t expecting much from your criminology class. But when you see your professor for the first time, you realize the class may be much more interesting than you were expecting.
I went so overboard with this. I do not know where this came from. I apologize for my actions. Also, all of my knowledge comes from Jim Can’t Swim and Explore With Us interrogation analysis videos, so don’t come for me if some of the criminology stuff is wrong!!
You walked into the lecture hall, bag digging into your shoulder after a long day, trying to find a seat. You sighed. Almost every seat was full, people congregating in the back. You set yourself down in the second row from the front, one of the few empty seats.
You pulled your laptop out of your bag, trying to keep yourself awake. This was your last class of the day and all you could think about was getting back to your apartment and having a nice dinner.
You stifled a yawn, eyes unfocused on your screen.
“Welcome, everyone.”
The deep voice jolted you from your haze, drawing your eyes up from your computer, and onto him.
You felt a jolt run through your body as you took him in. Dark hair neatly pushed back, full lips, chest straining at his suit.
“I’m Professor Hoffman. I’ll be your criminology instructor this semester.”
Shit, maybe you weren’t so ready to go home anymore.
--
That was the one class you didn’t find yourself dreading. Your other psychology and criminal justice classes were a bore, lecturers talking monotonously for an hour and twenty minutes as you tried desperately to stay awake. Professor Hoffman’s class was actually interesting, it challenged you, made you think. He didn’t force you all to listen to him talk the entire time, even if you wouldn’t have minded hearing that voice for hours on end. He had been a detective before switching to teaching a few years back, so he played interrogation tapes, having you all watch the body language, the word choice, the facial expressions of the suspect.
And it was nice to have something pretty to look at while he taught.
You were a bit embarrassed by how many times he had caught you staring at him. You had never looked at a professor as anything more than a teacher, a mentor, before now. But during his lecture, you found your mind drifting. What his voice would sound like in your ear, how his hands would feel roaming over you, the noises he would make.
You had had your fair share of adventures in college, going out with your friends and ending up in someone’s bed every once in a while. But none of them had been anything to brag about; frat boys only in it for themselves, guys who had no idea what they were doing, or didn’t know how to make it last.
You needed something more, something satisfying.
“So, tell me, do you think this suspect was guilty or not guilty? And tell me why.”
His voice shook you out of your daydream, bringing you back to your reality. Your eyes scanned over the screen, trying to remember bits and pieces of the interrogation you were supposed to have been watching.
You raised your hand; as much as you hated it, you wanted to impress the man. You wanted to show him that you were smart, that you knew what you were talking about. And that you were paying attention, not just staring at him the entire time.
He nodded towards you, telling you to go ahead. “Not guilty. He got angry when you accused him, which is a very typical response from someone who is being falsely accused. And he didn’t use any hedge words when he was talking, which would be unusual for a guilty person. And there’s no obvious motive.”
Your professor smirked, nodding along as you answered. “Very good. That’s exactly right. Another clue to tell you this was…”
You zoned out, trying to contain yourself at his praise.
--
He scolded himself, his gaze continuously falling onto you throughout every class.
He had left the police department a couple years ago, looking for a job with shorter hours, more time to relax, less frustration.
But now he had a different kind of frustration.
Every class, there you were. Sitting right in front of him, eyes watching him intently as he spoke. He saw the way your face changed every time he walked in the room, your tired face lighting up a bit. He saw the way your gaze lingered on him when you were supposed to be working on an assignment, or watching one of the interviews you were meant to be dissecting.
He noticed your attempts to impress him, always eager to answer his questions. You were always there early, even when others began to slowly fade out, showing up late or not showing up at all.
And, he had to admit, it was working. You were smart, and he could see how interested you were in this topic, even if you seemed to be a bit more interested in him than the class. He knew you’d make a great detective one day; your understanding of others’ minds would be a great asset to the force.
He almost wished he hadn’t left the department. He would give anything to still be in his position when you were first starting out in the field, eager to learn, to impress, to please. He would love for you to train under him, your frustration growing as he teased you, giving you smaller and smaller tasks, making you prove yourself.
He pulled himself away from his thoughts, shuffling his notes together before the start of class.
“Alright everyone, I’ve posted your grades for your last assignment. Some of you did very well, others seem to be a bit distracted in this course.” He purposefully shifted his gaze, meeting your eyes as he spoke this last part.
He suppressed a smirk as he saw your face flush.
“Now, the rational choice theory…”
--
“I really don’t know what I’m doing wrong in that class,” you sighed.
Your friend nodded. “I mean, he is a pretty tough grader. I don’t think I’ve gotten above a C on anything.”
“Yeah, but I feel like my work is good! Some of it he seems to really like, and then others he’s super harsh. But I thought this last paper was really good!”
“Maybe you should go talk to him about it. Maybe he could help you out, tell you what you’re doing wrong.”
“Yeah, I guess. I probably should. I really like this class; I want to do well in it.”
Your friend smirked. “Do you like the class, or do you like the hot professor?”
You lightly slapped their arm. “Shut up, I don’t think he’s hot.”
They laughed. “Of course you do! I see you staring at him all the time! It’s ok: he is pretty hot.”
You felt your face heating up. “Ok, maybe I think he’s kinda hot, but I like the class too!”
“I hear you.”
--
As class ended the next day, you took a breath. You shouldn’t be this nervous to talk to him, he was your professor, of course he would be willing to help you. You lingered in your seat for a few moments, taking longer than usual to stuff your laptop back in your bag. As people filed out of the room, you carefully approached his desk.
“Professor Hoffman?”
He looked up, smiling slightly as he met your eyes. “Yes, what can I do for you?”
“I was hoping that maybe you had time to talk to me about my last paper? I was wondering if you could tell me what I did wrong, or what I could improve next time?”
He regarded you for a moment and you couldn’t help but shift a bit under his gaze.
“Of course. I have another class in a few minutes, but I have time to meet tomorrow, if you’d like.”
You nodded, thanking him as he gave you a time and his office number. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
He smirked. “See you then. Don’t be late.”
--
“What are you all dressed up for?” your friend asked.
“What? I’m not dressed up. Do I look dressed up?”
“I mean, maybe not dressed up, but you look nice. What’s the occasion?”
“Nothing, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
They smiled. “Oh! Now I remember. You have your meeting with the hot professor today! That’s why you dressed so cute.”
“I did not!”
“I don’t believe you. You better hurry up, don’t you have to be there in a few minutes?”
You looked at your phone, cursing under your breath. They were right, you only had a couple minutes before your meeting. You sped up your pace, telling your friend you’d see them later as they walked to their class building.
“You better tell me all about it! Don’t do anything inappropriate, young lady!”
You hurried into the brick building that held Professor Hoffman’s office, trying to find the room number he had given you. Your eyes scanned the plaques next to each door, looking for the one engraved with his name. When you finally found it, the door was shut. You knocked softly, waiting patiently until you heard a voice tell you to come in.
You pushed the door open, examining his office as you entered. One wall was lined with bookshelves, filled with books on psychology, criminal justice, and what looked like case files. His desk sat in front of the window, his back to the light streaming in through the glass. He sat, leaned back in his desk chair, shirt slightly unbuttoned and sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
“Take a seat,” he said, motioning to the chair in front of his desk. You quickly complied, smoothing your skirt as you sat down.
--
He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you when you walked into his office, closing the door behind you. He should have punished you right then for testing him like that: all dressed up for him, pretty skirt cutting off just above your knees, shirt lower cut than he had ever seen you wearing in class.
“So,” he started, trying to regain his composure. “You wanted to talk to me about your paper?”
You nodded. “Yes, sir.” Fuck. “I was wondering if you could tell me what I could have done better with this assignment. I thought I did really well on it, until I got my grade back.”
He cleared his throat. “Yes, well, it was very well-written. And you have the concepts down. But your job was to analyze the video, not just repeat what I had said in class. Even if you put it a bit more eloquently than I did.” He smiled. “I almost get the feeling that you’re a bit…distracted in my class.
He watched as you became flustered, a smile still on his lips. “Well, professor, I just – I just have a lot on my mind. Sometimes it wanders, you know?” Your eyes darted around, staring at your hands, your bag on the floor, the surface of his desk.
He nodded. “Wanders to what?”
He couldn’t help the smug look on his face as you struggled to answer. He knew what your mind wandered to, he could see it on your face when you were supposed to be paying attention to his lectures. He saw the blush on your face, the way your pupils were blown. And he knew exactly where your mind was wandering to.
“Well, you know, to other things I have to do.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Like me?”
Your eyes widened. “What?”
“You heard me. I see the way you stare at me, the look on your face when I catch you. You think I have no idea what you think about when you’re in my class? You think I can’t read you like a book, sweetheart?”
He tilted his head, watching as you took in his words. You looked like a deer in headlights, knowing he had figured out your secret. He saw the way your body stiffened at the pet name, your legs pressing together.
“I’ll tell you what,” he started, against his better judgement. “You really want to improve your grade?”
You nodded. He told himself to stop, to kick you out of his office before he put his career in jeopardy. But, God, the look on your face, so eager to hear what he had to say, pretty face flushed with embarrassment, legs squeezed together so tight he thought you might explode.
“Cmere,” he said in a low voice.
You slowly stood, making your way around his desk to stand in front of him. “Tell me, sweetheart,” he growled. “Where does your mind wander to during my class? I want to hear you tell me.”
“To you,” you said softly.
“Cmon, baby, you can do better than that.” He knew he was being a dick, he saw how flustered you were, how you were trying to work up the courage to answer his question. And he loved it.
“To you – to you…”
“To me fucking you?” he helped.
“Yes.” Your eyes were fixed on your hands.
“Look at me and say it.”
Your eyes met his. “My mind wanders to – to you fucking me.”
“Much better. Now, you really want to improve your grade, sweetheart?”
You nodded and he saw the eagerness in your eyes, waiting for him to tell you what to do.
“Then get on your fuckin’ knees.”
He smiled, chuckling as you quickly dropped to your knees in front of his chair, hands getting to work on his belt. He watched your eyes widen as you released him from his dress pants and couldn’t help the feeling of pride that swelled in his chest.
“Something wrong, baby?” he asked, cocky smile spreading across his face. You shook your head. “Then go on.”
He let out a deep groan as you took him into your mouth, placing a hand on the back of your head. He wrapped his hand in your hair, guiding you as his dick hit the back of your throat. “Such a good girl.” He leaned his head back against the chair, savoring the feeling of your head bobbing on his cock.
His looked back down at you, eyes darkening as he saw how eagerly you sucked him off, spit coating your lips, tears welling in your eyes every time you took him down your throat. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little distracted during classes too, picturing you just like this.
He pulled your head back by your hair until you were looking up at him. “Get up here, sweetheart,” he said, motioning to his lap.
You shakily got to your feet before straddling his lap, setting your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. He reached under your skirt, hands gripping your ass. He watched as you began to grind your clothed core on his dick, admiring the desperate look on your face.
“What’s the matter, baby?” he asked, hand slowly wrapping around your throat. “So desperate for me. No one been taking care of this pussy?”
You frantically shook your head, grinding down harder.
“Poor little slut. Take them off. I’ll take good care of you, sweetheart.”
You shifted on his lap, pulling your underwear down your legs and tossing them to the side. He slowly ran a finger through your folds, letting out a low hum. “God, baby, this all for me?” Your answer was cut off by him pushing two fingers inside of you, your words turning to a moan. He slowly pumped his fingers, curling them inside you while your ground down on his hand.
“Poor baby, those college boys don’t know how to make you feel good? You’re so fuckin’ desperate.” You quickly shook your head, too lost in the feeling of him working you to form words. You whined when he pulled his fingers out.
He lined himself up at your entrance, the other hand wrapping around your waist, holding you steady. “Go on, baby. Show me how needy you are.”
You slowly slid yourself down onto his cock, mouth falling open as he stretched you out. His head fell back onto his chair, eyes screwing shut, before quickly opening them again, taking in the sight of you full of his dick. He placed his hands on your hips, keeping you steady as you began to bounce. You quickly picked up the pace, grinding yourself down on him, eyes clouded from pleasure.
Your moans filled his ears, eyes roaming your body as you fucked yourself on his cock.
“God, baby, you look so fuckin’ pretty. Such a good little whore for me, hmm?”
“Yes, yes, just for you, Daddy!” you moaned, before quickly catching yourself. He saw your eyes widen, realizing what you had just said.
He wrapped his strong arm around your waist, standing from his chair, still buried deep inside you, before setting you on his desk. He wrapped a hand around your throat, squeezing slightly and pushing your back down onto the surface. “Say it again.”
“I’m all yours, Daddy,” you said softly.
“That’s fuckin’ right baby.” He set a fast pace, roughly fucking into you, one hand still around your throat, the other gripping your hip so hard he knew it would probably leave marks.
He let out a groan at the sight of you underneath him, skirt bunched around your waist, mouth hanging open, hands gripping his arms. He watched your back arch off the table, squeezing your eyes shut.
He froze, abruptly stopping his thrusts. “Look at me when you cum on my dick, baby. Fuckin’ look at me or I’ll stop again. Understand?”
“Yes sir,” you cried, eyes locked on his.
“Much better.” His fingers found their way to your clit as he continued burying himself in you. “Cum for me baby, show me how much you love my cock.”
Your nails dug into his arm as your legs shook around him, moaning loudly as you reached your high. He felt his own end coming on. He leaned down, his face inches from yours. “Tell me sweetheart, where do you want me to cum?”
“Inside…” was all you could manage, still overcome with pleasure.
He smiled. “You want me to fill you up, baby?” You nodded, begging him to fill you.
His pace faltered as he came, gripping your hips tightly. He let go of you, placing his hands on his desk, catching his breath. He slowly pulled out of you, pulling his pants back up and tossing you your underwear. You carefully sat up, legs still shaking slightly.
He settled himself back in his chair, leaning back and running a hand through his hair. He smirked at you, sitting on his desk, completely undone.
“I suppose I can raise your grade on that paper,” he started. “But I do think we should have weekly tutoring sessions. You obviously need some more help with this.” He smirked at you. “Does that sound good to you?”
You never agreed to something faster in your life.
--
I really liked writing this, if y’all like it I may give you a part 2👀
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(Charlotte Matthews x fem brat GAMER reader)
[Warnings- GIP Lottie, brat taming, spanking, fingering, choking, biting, Degredation, Praise, PNV sex, rough sex, creampies, overstimulation, aftercare]
You wouldn't get off the game. You and Charlotte had many rules, ever since you met her she's tried to teach you more manners and how to be more attentive. She had a rule that whenever she was speaking to you, you would listen, fully listen, like drop whatever you're doing, look at her, and listen. Today you didn't, today you were too busy with your game that even she couldn't get you away from it, you were obsessing over the files for modding your game, you said, "I just have to finish this, Mommy, I promise and then I'm done, but I cant stop or ill forget or lose my place."
Charlotte just blanked, her expression just snapping off. She couldn’t believe you just told her no, crossing her arms as she tilted her head and gave you “the look”. Her voice was a lot more stern than it was before, “Get off of it now.” The tone of her voice made you freeze, a shiver running up your spine as you hesitantly looked up at her, she looked very upset, slowly drawing your eyes back to your screen was her last straw.
“Save your files.” She ordered in that tone that made you quickly click the save button, at least she was gracious enough to make sure your work was saved before she ripped you up out of your chair, pulling you over her lap as she sat down on the bed, pulling your pants down to deliver a harsh slap to your ass, her voice rough as she rubbed over the area, “Is your computer more important than listening to me, huh?” She snapped, making you shake your head quickly with a whimper, rushing out your words, “No, mommy, I’m sorry, I was just-“ Another sudden spanking caught you off guard, making you whimper out against her thigh, flinching.
“Since you think your computer is so much more important than listening to me, Mabye I should show you what happens when you don’t listen to mommy.” She just purred out, pulling your pants off you completely to throw them to the side, leaving you in just a baggy hoodie. “Your gonna make it up to mommy now.” She whispered down into your ear before pulling you up just to throw you right back on the bed, your body bouncing against the mattress before she was climbing onto you, sliding her hand down your torso with a soft sigh, her expression softening for a second, “My pretty girl, why can’t you just be a good girl for mommy?” You just whimpered with a pout.
“I’m sorry mommy, I’ll be better.” You whimpered, you hated upsetting her, it made you feel guilty and sad, blushing when she lifted your thigh to spread your legs open a bit, her hand slipping down to slip her fingers through your folds, her voice husky, “Then your gonna take what I give you and prove to me how sorry you are, because I’m not stopping until I believe you.” She husked out, dipping her middle finger into your entrance before joining it with her ring finger, pushing all the way in with a moan as she watched your expression twist, your moan as she slipped in made her cock twitch in her jeans, biting her lip as she started to pump her fingers inside you, curling them occasionally just to hear your pretty moans.
“That’s a good girl, take mommy’s fingers… yeah~” She mocked you with a pout, her head nodding each time you whimpered or squirmed from the pleasure. After a little while she added her palm against your clit for stimulation while quickening her pace, pumping her fingers into your pussy with reckless abandon, wet noises echoing out through the room along with your moans and whines, your orgasm quickly approaching. She could feel you tightening around her fingers, her voice husky and rough, “That’s it babygirl, cum on mommy’s finger so she can fuck this pretty little cunt.”
You whines loudly at her words, the stimulation and feeling of her fingers pumping into you was enough to have you shaking and arching up off the bed with a cry, clenching tightly around her fingers as your thighs shook, your orgasm crashing through you, making you soak her fingers with your sticky cum. The sight made Charlotte moan huskily, her eyes locked on your reactions as she slowed her fingers before slipping them out of you to taste you, her eyes rolling back at the taste of you, “Fuck baby… always taste so good for me.”
She just caressed your face gently with her free hand, leaning down to kiss you a bit more gently before progressing to a much more passionate kiss, growling against your lips as she spread your thighs more, using her knee as she let her hips press down against yours. You could feel her boner, she was so hard. Charlotte just moaned against your lips as she humped against you, still clothed as she rasped out, “I can’t wait to fuck your pretty pussy baby, wanna fill you up with my cum okay?” She whimpered out with a groan as she reached her hand down to unzip her jeans, fuck she couldn’t wait, she just had to be inside you, pulling her pants down just enough for her cock to spring out before she was pushing inside you clumsily, not giving you much time to adjust, her hips sinking back down onto yours as she filled you, the both of you moaning loudly at joining together.
“Agh… that’s it… fuck, your so tight- agh- such a good girl for me-“ Charlotte moaned out as soon as she was sunk deep inside you, wasting no time to start a rough pace, her hands holding your hips down as her hips slapped against yours with each thrust, her eyes rolling back with a deep moan as her lips dragged down your neck, groaning as she thrusted deep and rough, feeling your walls squeeze around her cock as she panted against your neck, biting into your skin with a whine while she throbbed inside you.
“Mm!” She panted heavily against your neck, one hand on your hip as she pounded into you, her cock stretching your pretty little cunt open, the pleasurable burn as her girth dragged in and out of your tight little hole, feeling every vein of her cock as she pulled out to the tip before pushing back into you with deep low moans, enjoying every inch of your body, tossing her head back as she ran a hand through your hair, gripping tightly as she spoke breathlessly, “Is your computer still more important baby?” She panted out teasingly, staring down at you with that hot gaze.
You were too busy moaning and whining at the feeling of your girthy cock pounding into you, your back arched, breasts bouncing, your body trembling and sweaty as you took her cock, shaking your head quickly with a shaky cry, “N-No mommy, no, no, you- you are, I’m sorry- please let me cum, please!” You begged her desperately, almost crying as you squirmed, crying out as she slammed her hips into you roughly, slapping your thigh, “You’ll cum when I let you cum, if I even let you.” She spat out, gripping your chin in her hand as she kissed you forcefully, growling against your lips before suddenly pulling out of you completely, making you whine before you were being turned over quickly, a surprised yelp leaving you before your hips we’re pulled up, screaming out as Charlotte slid her tip through your folds and pushed right back inside you with no mercy, filling you to the brim with her length.
“That’s a good slut, mommy just needed to fuck you like this, huh?” *She mocked out, her hand going to your neck to wrap around it as she pulled you up, making you choke on a moan, your eyes rolling back as her hips slapped against your ass, skin slapping loudly as her hips met your ass, her cock thrusting in and out of your messy cunt, feeling her throbbing more frequently, getting close to her orgasm, you could tell by the way she got sloppier, rougher, her tone getting more breathless as her hips stuttered, “Mommy just needed to teach you your manners.”
She growled out with a strangled groan and a hiss as she felt her orgasm coming on, your pussy was just so perfect, so tight and wet around her throbbing cock as she pounded into you with a faster pace, “Be a good girl and take Mommy’s cum, baby, oh fuck!” Charlotte cried out, slamming her hips into your ass so rough with a gasp, making you scream out as she pushed your face down in the pillows, her body trembling as she moaned loudly, her cock spurting loads of sticky hot cum into your pussy, the warmth filling your body as you moaned out the loudest whine, trembling with a shaky cry as your body tensed, cumming right with her with shaky gasps making her groan and gasp, sliding her arms around your waist, her breasts pressing down against your back as she humped you until her load was securely emptied inside you, “Agh… good girl baby… good girl…”
She panted softly against your back as she came down from her high, laying soft kisses to your shoulder blades and then back of your neck as she helped you slump down against the bedsheets, her hand rubbing your thigh, voice soft as she praised you, “You did so good baby…” She smiled and tucked your hair behind your ear so she could kiss your cheek, carefully pulling out of you to lay beside you and pull you on-top of her so you were laying on her breasts. You nuzzled right into her immediately, you felt so spent, your body shaky, fuzzy, sweaty, you could feel her cum starting to slowly spill out of you, making you squirm before she shushed you, “Shhh, it’s okay baby, you just rest, we’ll clean up in a few minutes.” She spoke softly, but your eyes were already closing, she couldn’t help but smile at you adoringly as you knocked out into a unconscious state, shaking her head as she grabbed a rag from your nightstand, wiping you clean before pulling the blankets up to snuggle you, holding you protectively until she soon drifted off to sleep with you in her arms.
#yellowjackets season 2#yellowjackets x reader#yellowjackets showtime#lottie mathews#lottie x reader#lottie yellowjackets#yellowjackets#yellowjackets smut#charlotte matthews x reader#charlotte matthews#lottie matthews smut#lottie mathews x reader
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The Feels
The Feels- haerin x lee! trainee! reader
synopsis: i just wanted to make a follow up about on your mind
genre: fluff, timeskip, haerin being a cat, reader being a ghibli fan but specifically just a my neighbor Totoro fan, haerin being low key tired of trader flirting and yet still likes it, boo schedules y’all let haey/n be together, reader actually having short term memory 0.6k words ish?
a day couldn’t get better than this.
it was a weekend. you had spent a solid three hours asleep now cuddling your sister group member or more commonly now known as your girlfriend behind many locked doors of the entertainment industry. you could feel the warmth of her hug around your waist when waking up. the window has let in the warm sunlight making your girlfriend cuddle closer to inhale your scent. you turned to face your sleeping girlfriend.
she couldn’t be this beautiful the pink hue of the sunset tinting entirety of the room. you couldn’t help admire your girlfriend… haerin. you felt yourself naturally so entranced with the girl who was the same age as you. how could she just be this pretty and yet so different from you. your hand naturally weaving into her hair running through the intrinsically soft fibers as you continued to admire her beauty from upclose.
“what are you doing?” was the question that fell from your girlfriend who you thought was sleeping.
“just admiring you hae. you should fall back asleep.” you suggested to the black hair girl as you slowly stop moving your hand in her hair. as if being a cat caught in an act of doing something wrong. (ikr ironic since hae’s a cat-)
“a little hard when someone is petting my hair and is staring at my face from 6 inches away.” she quipped back as she got up from her sleeping position to take a peak at the sunset.
“right. sorry.” a quick apology fell upon your lips to apologize to the kang as you wrapped your body around hers with the blanket. gently cuddling her as you let your chin settled onto the shorter girl to look at the sunset. “if it makes you feel better there’s a sunset.”
“yet it still reminds me of how yet your going to leave soon.” she jested.
“time is fleeting but your beauty isn’t-“ and that was the phrase that had landed a smack in the face with a pillow.
“stop saying cheesy lines. flirt.” your girlfriend said seriously but you could see the soft smile on her face and a faint pink tinge across her cheek. maybe it could be the sunset, who knows. you lingered on her face for a second before looking at the sunset with her again.
“do you want to watch a movie after we have dinner with your members and my sister?” you said intertwining your hands over her hands which seemed to fit ever too perfectly in your opinion.
“depends. what are we watching” the shorter girl responds.
“what about my neighbor to-“ you suggested.
“respectfully honey… we’ve watch that two times alone… today…” she cuts you off.
“then what you like to watch. we have the entirety of the rest of the day after dinner… and my netflix or should i say my parents netflix account.” you nonchalantly stated as you played with her hands in yours.
“maybe… La La Land…?” the catlike girl recommended.
“maybe…” you muttered off.
after dinner
you had sat comfortably on the bed booting up your computer in haerin bed once again. scrolling through the account and the light clacking of the keyboard filling the silence of the dorm room.
“did you find the movie?” a gentle voice asked at the door.
“what movie are we watching again?” you asked as you looked away from the laptop to meet with eyes with your girlfriend who was wearing your hoodie.
“la la land,” she reminded you having a sip of her tea before carefully placing it on the table beside the bed. you had type the movie into the search bar and it came up a purple background alongside two characters who seemed like they were dancing.
“i can’t believe you love cheesy stuff like this,” you mumbled underneath your breath as a small frown forms on haerin lips. she gently pinches your exposed arms as a warning. “sorry… you fell for my corny flirting.” you apologized.
“you better be…” she said hugging you from behind as you passed her the other headphones.
both of you had settled in laying against her soft pillows up against the head rest of her bed as the laptop was between you both on your laps. your arm laid on her shoulder as she used your arm as her personal pillow to lean her head against. it was nice… a perfect way to end the day.
when would this type of day would occur again? hopefully soon.
a small smiled had found its way to your lips as the ends of your lips curl up ever so slightly. you scoot closer to your girlfriend who was entranced in the romance musical as the orange hue of her room lights surrounded both her and you.
author notes: sorry y’all for being dead for so long… not me ghosting you guys for a good 5 months… I’m good. Just school and stuff got too much… should be coming back soon with more stuff. also yall with 300?! while im away- thanks so much like fr tho-
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Reborn in Baldur's Gate 3: Chapter 1
Plot: You’ve been reincarnated. It’s the realization you come to when the tiefling offering you a health potion introduces himself as Tav. You died and your soul revived in Baldur's Gate 3, at the beginning of the game no less. But you only have the memories of your past life on Earth, and none of your current one.
Tav invites you to join him on his journey, despite your lack of abilities or maybe because of it. You might as well go along with it; where else would you go with no memory of who you currently are, or knowledge of anything that lies outside of the narrative?
There is much to discover about your life in Baldur's Gate, and what transpires relies on the tiefling leading your group as Tav.
Word Count: 2.5K
A/N: This is very self-indulgent so there will by a lot of Gale and Astarion.
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“I’m Tav.”
He’s a tiefling, you recall. Tall and bulky with curled horns. The dark gray skin tells you he’s descended from Mephistopheles, and his simple leather gear tells you he’s a barbarian. Huh. Yeah, that makes sense, he’s Tav, the hero of the game! Or…the villain? Your head pounds as memories flood back to you—tieflings, bards, goblins, vampires—you, sitting at a computer debating which choice would garner you the most favour with your companions in…
“Baldur’s Gate,” you mumble. You slap a hand over your mouth, staying on your knees as you blink at the tiefling. At Tav. He arches his brows and kneels beside you, offering you a small vial of red liquid.
“You’re from Baldur’s Gate, too?” he asks. “Drink this, it’ll make you feel better.”
Without much thought you take the already opened vial from him and swallow it down in one small gulp. With a deep breath the pounding in your head subsides and you can think a little clearer. Maybe not clear enough to fully comprehend that you’re currently in a video game, or that there’s a small wriggling behind your left eye which means…
More images come to you, a mind flayer holding a worm with too many teeth to your eye, a githyanki—Lae’zel—pointing a sword at you, and then falling from the ship. The nautiloid. Tav’s memories of the ship.
Tav winces as the visions fade. “Guess you got one of those, too.”
A chill runs down your spine, through each and every bone of your body until the squirming thing behind your eye stops movement all together.
“I uh…” You look around at the crash area, taking in the rocks and splotches of fire dotting the land on one side and water on your left, until you meet the gaze of a raven-haired half-elf.
“This one doesn’t seem to be all there,” she says. Her voice is as smooth and condescending as you remember, and you find it endearing despite the insult.
“Give them a moment,” Tav responds over his shoulder. “It’s a lot to take in.”
Yes, especially because this is most definitely a dream. A very vivid, painful, exciting, insane dream.
“What’s your name?”
You fear all you can do is blink. You tell them your name, voice as shaky as your body. There’s a tremble in your hands that you can’t control, even with a hard grip on the now empty vial. “And thank you…for the potion.”
Tav lifts, holding a large sharp-nailed hand out to you. “Can you stand?”
You nod, taking his hand and letting him lift you to your feet. You let your hand drop to dust off your clothes, nothing that you remember wearing. The last thing you recall was going to bed in a tank top and shorts but you’re now wearing a dark blue overcoat atop loose fitting pants and a fitted shirt. The borders of the coat are stitched with gold swirls, and based on the softness of everything you wear it has to be expensive. Somehow, after everything (whatever the Hells that involved) you are quite clean. Not to mention the bag that hangs at your hip beneath your coat is quite heavy, and another bag that wraps around your waist and sits at your back has the contents clinking together when you move.
You look like a caster of some kind, but you can’t tell which. You can’t feel anything that would indicate your abilities, but some cold sensation at the back of your mind tells you you can do something. Like another limb sits in your mind, waiting to be moved.
“We don’t have time for stragglers,” Shadowheart says.
“Yet I helped you,” Tav counters. There’s a playfulness to his tone that doesn’t match his furrowed brow.
Shadowheart concedes. “Fair enough. You’re welcome to join us in our search for a healer.”
You nod. Yes, a healer! They’ll be able to—pain strikes your temples as another memory clouds your mind.
A truck careening at you, horn blaring—a sharp hit of adrenaline and then…here.
“Oh my God I’ve been isekaied.” Your revelation earns you quizzical looks from Tav and Shadowheart. Reincarnated. Just like those cheesy but addicting books about a girl being reincarnated as a villainess in some cheesy addicting romance novel. You press your hands to your face, feeling familiar features but still wary. “Quick, what do I look like?”
“A lunatic,” Shadowheart answers.
Tav hesitates, but describes you. You. Not some other face, not a character you recall from the game but you. Regular human you. You sigh, relief flooding over you.
“As…interesting as this conversation is, we should get moving,” Tav says.
“Agreed.” Shadowheart doesn’t move until Tav heads to the only direction you can go, near part of the crashed ship.
“We need to find Lae’zel,” Tav adds.
“Less agreeable,” Shadowheart says. “She’s probably long gone by now, if not dead.”
“Well we should still keep an eye out.”
You follow the two into the still burning wreckage where they suddenly stop and draw their weapons—Tav a large axe, and Shadowheart her mace and shield.
“Intellect devourers,” you conclude. Three sit at the far end of the ship, scurrying towards you at a frightening speed. With one slash of his axe Tav takes out two of them before they can get close to you, and Shadowheart smacks the other one down. All defeated in what? Three seconds?
The three brains bleed out and flop to their sides, clawed limbs twitching.
“Vile creatures,” Tav says, holstering his axe. You expect the two to keep moving and check the nearby bodies for gold and supplies, just as you do in the game, but they don’t. They walk right past the dead man without rifling through his pockets and as you step by you feel your stomach lurch. To see a bloody disfigured body in reality felt very different from the game. The vacant eyes staring upward, pieces of flesh torn from his stomach…It isn’t until a hand covers your eyes and directs you forward do you realize you’d stopped.
“Just keep moving,” Tav says, keeping his hand by the side of your head so you can’t see the body. When his hand falls you keep your eyes on his swinging tail, and follow after him as he turns and moves into the sun.
Barrels and a broken down cart let you know what’s coming next—who’s coming next.
Your excitement strikes you then, still shaky and confused but awake. You’re in Baldur’s Gate 3, with Tav and Shadowheart, and hopefully all the others.
Your eyes scan the water nearby, debris scattered everywhere until you spot a dagger on the dock. Tav and Shadowheart watch you dart over and pick it up.
“I thought you would be one to attack with words, not knives,” Shadowheart says coolly.
You stash the dagger in a boot, smiling at Shadowheart. Gods. She was pretty as pixels but seeing her in the flesh, she was something else. “Well, words aren’t always the best weapons.”
“Can I get some help?”
You recognize the voice without needing to see the speaker. Astarion is just up the hill waiting to ambush Tav and…kill him depending on how he answers.
Based on how Tav darted ahead at the sound of someone in trouble (albeit fake trouble) you figured it wouldn’t turn out too terribly. So they had skipped over robbing the dead, and didn’t explore every corner of the map looking for treasure chests…that didn’t mean things would be different with each companion intro, right? There’s a plot here, and it has to be followed to a certain degree…right? There were no screen pop ups to decide dialogue and you all appeared to have free will, which was good.
Right?
Your thoughts did little to comfort you as you climbed the hill to find Astarion already pointing his blade at Tav who was apparently perceptive enough to dodge rolling around in the ground with the vampire. You stopped next to Shadowheart, at ease just watching the situation unfold.
Both men twitch and writhe as their parasites connect. When their visions fade Astarion questions it, and Tav answers honestly about being in the mind flayer ship and what the worms can do.
You study Astarion’s face as he realizes that he’s somewhat free, but there’s a time limit to the incubation period. Tav offers for him to join your trio, and just like you remember, he agrees.
“Splendid,” Astarion says. “Lead on.”
At that the vampire meets your eyes. Icicles dance up your spine until they pierce the back of your head, making you wince and hold a hand against the spot.
You grunt at the sudden pain, the sound quiet but drawing attention all the same. You wave the eyes away from you with your free hand. “Sorry. Head still hurts a bit from…having a tadpole put inside it.”
Nobody questions that, though you know it was something else. Every time your eyes even flit in Astarion’s direction you can feel a push at the back of your head, that phantom limb clenching as if trying to stretch and release itself. You wish you could say it was the tadpole, but it feels nothing like when you connected with Tav.
“Well let’s just try to keep our worms separate,” Astarion says, seemingly at you. “I don’t need to see what’s in your head anymore than you do mine.”
His eyes linger a moment on Tav. You nod your agreement though he isn’t looking at you now.
“I saw some footprints along another path,” Tav announces. “There could be other survivors.”
There doesn’t seem to be any question as to who is in charge. Shadowheart insists on searching for a healer but with a quick convincing from Tav you’re all headed towards a strange looking purple sigil.
“Looks unstable,” Shadowheart says.
“Best left alone,” Tav agrees. It was just like a friend's first play through that thought the sigil would kill them, so they never had Gale join their party. It wasn’t a totally unfounded theory—swirling, sparking voids did seem like something that shouldn’t be touched but everything in this world had a purpose. Anything out of place or, well, glowing, was important to the story.
But then the group is walking toward the bodies of three goblins discussing supplies.
They’ll steal from goblins but not humans? Seems odd but maybe you’re the weird one being so willing to pillage the dead, no matter their race. You frown, looking back at the sigil and knowing who is inside. “You sure you don’t want to see why it’s like that?”
Astarion is observing his nails while Tav loots the goblin bodies. Shadowheart kicks one of the bodies out of her way once fully plundered and looks back at you. “Be my guest. But if you get sucked in don’t expect me to come looking for you.”
“I’ll come look for you,” Tav states with a cheeky grin, hands inside a dead goblins pockets. It makes you smile back, so…kind and disarming. You recall barbarians didn’t have high charisma, but Tav seemed to have it in spades. Or perhaps your recent head injury was clouding your judgement—after all your reaction to being reincarnated, to being dead, was quite tame.
“Ah, a true hero.” Astarion looks between you and Tav, eyes narrowing as if trying to solve a puzzle.
You turn your attention back to the sigil, taking a small step towards it when an arm pops out.
“A hand?” a voice calls. “Anybody?”
You slap the waxing hand immediately without a thought.
“Perhaps I should have been more specific,” Gale says. “A helping hand please?”
“Oh, right!” You quickly take his hand in yours and tug to no avail.
“Keep trying!”
You pull harder, wondering if you were going to end up holding a severed arm in your hand as the sigil sparks brighter and buzzes with energy. You choose to ignore those thoughts and keep trying to free the wizard.
With one final pull the person connected to the arm comes tumbling out of the sigil. If it had been Tav to pull Gale free you’re certain it would have been a smooth experience, and he would have stepped back and dodged getting shoved to the ground by the sudden lack of resistance. But it wasn’t Tav, it was you, and instead of dodging the wizard your feet tangled with each other and you both went down.
The wind is knocked from your lungs with Gale atop you, his forehead connecting with your sternum and leaving you gasping for air. Strands of his hair fall onto your lips, soft and smelling of something spicy while his left arm is wrapped around your middle, the other braced against the ground. You realize he’d been trying to protect you on the way down, but wasn’t quick enough to cover the back of your head, which now throbs from the fresh battering.
“Ouch,” you croak, voice barely making it out of your throat. Footsteps approach until Tav, Shadowheart, and Astarion are hovering over you, each with a small smile. Well…Astarion’s is more of a smirk…
Gale pushes himself off of you and before he can say anything Tav has his hands beneath your underarms and is pulling you up. His hands slide to your back until you’re steady enough to stand on your own and thank him, rubbing at the back of your head again.
Throbbing is better than stabbing, you suppose.
“Apologies,” Gale says as he smooths his hair back, “I’m usually much better at this.”
You continue to rub the back of your head as he and Tav exchange dialogue, much of it going in one ear and out the other as you focus on the pain radiating in your skull. You squeeze your eyes shut and let your hands fall to your sides, giving in to the fact you can’t rub away whatever sensation is there.
“And you my friend.” Gale is in front of you, drawing your gaze to meet his. “I am truly sorry for landing on you, but extremely grateful for the help.”
You can’t stop your smile at him anymore than you could with Tav. “Happy to help.”
His eyes stay on you a moment longer than appropriate, but when they drape down your body you think he’s almost sizing you up. For a fight, or romance, or maybe to steal your coat you aren’t sure.
You look to Tav for direction, waiting for the leader to…well, lead. Lae’zel should be next, but that’s when you notice you have an extra member. With you there it makes five travellers, but nobody has been sent to camp yet. Wherever that is. While you’d like a moment to sit and organize your thoughts, the idea of heading somewhere on your own was terrifying.
“I hear voices over that ridge,” Astarion announces. Everyone turns towards where he’s looking, just a few feet ahead where the path winds up and you know you’ll find two tieflings looking at Lae’zel. But you can’t hear them yet.
“Let’s check it out.” Tav is already moving before anyone can object. And like ducklings you follow him with Astarion, Gale, and Shadowheart.
Taglist:
@half-poison-and-half-hope
#reborn in baldur's gate 3 with no memory and plenty of gold#x reader#baldur's gate 3 fanfic#bg3#bg3 fanfic#bg3 fanfiction#gale dekarios x reader#astarion x reader
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Timothée x reader imagine
Warnings: smut, college smut, self-insert, public sex, friends with benefits, slight weight mention (it’s not specific but it’s mentioned), this one may be more plot that smut, stranger x you x Timothée
word count: 1.8k
This is arguably the best thing i’ve ever written.
I started an etsy account selling phone cases so check that out maybe :)
✿ஜீ۞ஜீ✿•.¸¸.•*`*•.•ஜீ☼۞☼ஜீ•.•*`*•.¸¸.•✿ஜீ۞ஜீ✿
You got to class late. That wasn’t usually you, but everyone has bad mornings and today was yours. You entered your class from the back of the classroom and saw all of the seats at the front full. You had no choice but to take one near the back, a few seats over from the last person you wanted to sit next too.
“Hello.” You say curtly. He replies back but with a smile and you find that odd. You and Timothée had an agreement. You wouldn’t interact outside of your late-night booty calls. It had worked to keep things less messy like you both wanted.
You try to ignore the interaction and focus on the lesson, but you can’t see the front or the professor at all, there were too many heads in the way. You raise your hand to let him know and ask for a seat at the front but before you can get his attention, Timothee pulls your hand down.
“Just sit on my lap. You’ll be able to see better, I don’t mind.” He says, he’s already looking away like he’s so sure you will.
“Absolutely not! What? That’s so inappropriate, I’ll just…” Your voice trailed off.
You’ll just what? You were busy for the rest of the week so you couldn’t take notes later and the professor didn’t look like he would stop talking anytime soon. Would it really be that bad? It’s innocent right? It’s not like he would start fucking you in class.
“You’ll just what?” Timothée teases? A knowing smile ghosting over his face already.
“Shut up. It’s just so I can see, you know the rules.”
You move and now you are perched lightly on Timothée's lap. No one in the class even turned to look at you. You were sitting near his knees, trying to keep all your weight off of him and keep listening to your professor who was now fiddling with his computer while still talking.
You didn’t see how Timothée could take notes like this, but he didn’t seem to mind and neither did you.
Before you could start writing you felt Timothée move his hand around your waist. He pulled you further into his lap, so your back was flush with his front. You turned your head to meet his eyes. Timothée was a tall man but in this position, you were looking down to see him. You liked it.
“What are you doing?” You ask.
“Making you and myself comfortable, now continue writing.” He replies, he faces the professor though you can see his mischievousness peeking through.
You could never understand him, but you turned back to continue your work. You feel relaxed. Usually in class you were speed writing, and your brain was going a million miles a minute but today you felt relaxed while still writing. You didn’t understand why. Surely it couldn’t be Timothée? His presence couldn’t be the thing making you feel different. You took a moment to think and that’s when you noticed his arm never left your waist. He was making circles on the side of your body, softly stroking. You turned to face him, and he looked so calm you didn’t even think he noticed what he was doing.
His eyes turned to look at you and you cut your gaze away quickly. You weren’t going to let him distract you outside of your arrangement.
“Shhh, just relax and enjoy it. mkay?” Timothée suddenly whispered. What?
You didn’t understand what he was talking about. It wasn’t until you felt his other hand at your knee make its way up, his other hand still holding your waist.
His hand met the bottom of your skirt, and he kept going, slipping under the skirt. Your body felt hot. You shifted so you were now crossing your legs. His hand was trapped between your thighs, cutting off his movement. You didn’t know the kind of reaction he would give but you were happy to put a stop to whatever he was doing. Or were you? Your breathing was heavier, and your body was still hot.
But it was so inappropriate.
You heard him laugh quietly in your ear. He moved his hands, and you uncrossed your legs. You thought that was that.
The teacher kept talking though you weren’t listening anymore. You couldn’t pay attention to anything with your thoughts ruminating. What was Timothée doing? Why wasn’t he keeping to the arrangement? Did he want you outside of the late-night booty calls?
The light to the classroom goes off and your pulled from your thoughts. You look around and no one is freaking out, so you assume the professor is putting on a film. Your thoughts are correct as an old black and white movie appears. You can’t see anything but the screen except the heads of the people in front of you, but you can’t make out who they are.
“Relax, He put on an old film because we had time left and he finished talking.” Timothée says, still whispering but even lower because it’s so silent. People are still talking to their friends but they’ were trying to keep it lower than the movie which is pretty quiet.
“Okay.” Is all you can think of to say. You're ready to get back into your deep thoughts when you feel Timothée's hands return to where they belong. Where they belong? You couldn’t believe you just said that. Or thought that?
He placed his hands on each of your thighs and moved your legs to the outside of his. His own legs keeping your spread wide open. You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything because in reality you really really needed him. It was all you could think about right now and if he didn’t finish what he started you were going to pop.
With his knees keeping you spread bare his hands made work of you. He slipped his fingers past your underwear, feeling the wetness already there. His fingers lightly pressing into you then back out, shallowly thrusting.
The class was so silent you knew you couldn’t make any noise, but your mouth let out an involuntary moan. No body turned around, so you hope no one heard you.
“I’m not plugging your mouth baby it’s all up to you to keep quiet. Or don’t.” Timothée murmurs.
His words don’t require a reply, but you nod your head anyways, already lost in pleasure.
Sex with him always felt good but it was something about the public humiliation that could happen at any moment that made you feel this all so much more.
His finger continued to work into you, almost prepping you but you couldn’t figure out what for. He flicked your clit unexpectedly and you let out a sharp cry. It wasn’t so loud, but you heard some shuffling a few rows down and to the side. Timothée didn’t stop his assault on your body while you glanced around the classroom. No one was looking but honestly you didn’t care.
You grounded your hips further down trying to feel him deeper, and as if reading your body Timothée moved his hand so two fingers were deep inside your cunt and the heel of his hand was rubbing your clit. His fingers were twisting and pumping into you in ways that made you hold your breath to keep your moans in. You tried to close your legs as a reflex but his own just spread you wider.
The classroom felt like an inferno, and you were ready to cum. Timothée removed his hand from your cunt unexpectedly. You let out an involuntary whine in response.
Timothée moved your further down his now closed thighs, towards his knees. You didn’t understand why? Was he not letting you cum? Had somebody been watching.
You searched around the classroom and to your complete and utter dismay somebody had their eyes on yours. You couldn’t see exactly who it was, but they were standing near the door at the back of the classroom. You knew from what you could see it was a man and his arm was moving weirdly. Before you could try figure out who it was or what he was doing, you felt hands move you again. Too dazed to struggle you didn’t know what was going on until you felt your exposed and dripping pussy meet the head of Timothée's cock.
You felt him slowly pull you down his shaft. Your cunt accommodating for his size and length with an uncomfortable stretch. It was always a struggle trying to fit Timothée inside you, that was why you always prepped yourself with your favourite toys before you saw him. The lack of preparation allowed a strained cry to slip through your lips. You couldn’t think to care who had heard that, but you opened your eyes anyways when you heard a distant grunt. The man at the back of the classroom had your attention and apparently, he had Timothees too. But he wasn’t stopping.
If anything, the attention from the strange man had made Timothee work harder to thrust into you. Because of how wet you were he couldn’t be fast because people would hear, but that didn’t stop him fucking you hard. It felt like he was fucking your breath away with every thrust and you were delirious. Your sensations were limited to just this feeling, the fullness of your cunt, the heat inside your body and the ache at the bottom of your belly.
You could hear Timothée's soft moans and groans in your ear and that was what set you off. Timothée followed behind you quickly after his thrusts turned harder. You felt his warm cum hit your insides and you let out a sigh of content. You wished you could've swallowed his cum instead, but this would do.
Timothée was still panting in your ear, and it wasn’t until you felt something warm and wet hit the side of your face and hair that you remembered the stranger. Both you and Timothée turned back to look at him. He was there, you could see his chest moving up and down rapidly. Timothées hand moved to the liquid on your face. He gathered some on his fingers and placed it in his mouth. He smirked and you didn’t know why until he did the same to you. It was cum.
Moaning at the taste of the strangers cum on Timothees fingers. You looked back up to the stranger and saw him wave before leaving.
These the weirdest lesson you’ve ever day. And you kind of hoped to have it again. You didn't know how you were going to leave the classroom without people knowing what happened, but you didn't care right now.
~~~
Y’all tell me if you liked the longer fic? the plot? idk i need feedback!!
#smut#timothee chalamet#timothee chalamet smut#self insert smut#timmy#timothee chalamet imagine#timothee chalamet x reader#timothée#reader smut#timothee chamalet#timothée smut#timothée x you#timothee x you#timothee smut#timothee imagine#timothee fanfic#timothée chamalet#timothee chalamet fic#timothee chalamet x you#timothee x reader#timothée imagine#timothée x reader#timothée chalamet x reader#timothée chalamet#timothée chalamet smut#timothée fanfic#` ꕤ · featuring timothée#timothée chalamet imagine#timothée x you x stranger#you x timothee
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