#some character building for Jazz
Text
Part 5 - dare not preach
Dp x DC AU: Regent!Jazz & Vigilante!Jazz
Masterlist Part 4
"And If I had the answers I'd have written them out so I could tell you what to do and what this thing is about. But all I've ever learned comes second-hand and I dare not preach what I don't understand." -Make A Move by Icon For Hire
//////////////////////
Content warning: briefly implied child abuse (Vlad is not a good guy by any definition),
Time was lost in between bouts of consciousness, flashes of pretty eyes and fire hair, soft muttering and gentle caresses against his skin soothing his aches.
Jason was caught between heaven and hell, wracked with agony behind his ribs one moment and healed with persistent warmth the next, a never ending cycle.
He wanted to scream.
One bout of semi-clarity was of some citrus concoction on his tongue, gentle murmurs of a woman by his ear before she kissed him again, forced something down his throat again.
He both loved and hated that woman. She felt familiar in a way that made his bat-honed paranoia rear its ugly head, the instinct to survive in his gut a heavy weight, but she brought him peace in the same moment she could damn him.
He caught his name once, his real name, spoken by her as he swallowed dutifully, a spike of want in his heart almost a welcome change from the pain by that point.
————————————————
Jazz spoke with the Lady frequently as the Red Hood, Jason, healed in her bed.
The elder spirit, regal in mannerisms and aura, demanded the Regent to aid this one vigilante, this one knight and Jazz had finally figured out why.
It was so obvious when she had all the puzzle pieces, the depth of occult knowledge both in her brain and at her disposal should have been her first resource used to dig deeper, but she’d allowed Danny and Frostbite to assume (and let her assume) that the Red Hood was an awakened Liminal who was recovering from corrupted Ecto in his system.
The Red Hood had been Jason Todd-Wayne, the second Robin- bright light of Gotham- and he’d been murdered by the Joker.
Unburied in my soil.
Jazz groaned in self-contempt as she paced the graveyard of Gotham’s Crime Alley. It was decrepit and uncared for, not like the higher class cemetery of Gotham proper where the Rich and powerful are buried. She what’s spent the better part of three days researching her new bedmate roommate once he’d been stabilized enough to be on a consistent schedule for ecto-infusion. He’d be unlikely to regain full consciousness for another month or so, but he would recover fully.
That was, if he understood what he had become in his near-fatal collapse.
(Thanks to Jazz and her rash actions.)
The Lady had been cryptic when speaking of Red Hood at first, but with his recovery and development of a strong proto-core Lady Gotham was eager to aid the Regent in making her once Robin adjust to a world-changing consequence once again.
(At least this time he would have support.)
Not only was Jason a Liminal with an indisputable death-claim, he had been a- a Revenant whose continued existence was a mind boggling happenstance of circumstance that was one in a infinite chance of ever happening again.
The Lady claimed him. The Lady gave a bit of herself to resurrect her bright Light, the one who shouldn’t have died so young, not while he deserved happiness for the hope he brought to so many.
(Damn it all.)
He clawed himself out of his own casket, to be found by Talia Al Ghul of all people… then survive the Lazarus Pits in body, with only Pit Madness to show for it?
(It was a callous way to think about it, but Jazz knew that it had also given him his freedom in many ways, that Jason wouldn’t have if he was still just a Revenant.)
(Did the Al Ghul know what she had found that night in dreary Gotham?)
(Was she aware she had given Jason Todd a third chance at life- however much of one being death-claimed by Lady Gotham could be called a life.)
The Lady, wistful once assured in the Regent’s anger having passed, swore an oath that Jason would never be forced to be a Knight again.
(Jazz reveled in the understanding that Batman, Bruce Wayne, was destined to be Gotham Knight for his mortal lifetime- possibly beyond.)
(Had he sworn his fealty by accident in his grief? Or had his donning that ridiculous gimmick been enough of a bind to tie his soul to the Lady?)
(Regardless, for his inaction, Jazz privately reveled in the satisfaction of the true consequences of his choices.)
Jazz, who’d been pacing a strict line in the uneven row of headstones, came to a rest at the grave of the once-Revenant who now lay in her bed.
Jason Todd
He’d been only a year older than her little brother when he’d been murdered by the Joker, buried under a name that was half-complete. He was a Wayne in life, but not in death? How hypocritical of the old bat, to not give him the courtesy of giving him the hyphenated last name if he wasn’t going to bury him in the Wayne cemetery.
What would it have been like if Danny had a grave, complete with a stone and inscription?
(The portal was his grave. He’d died there and the house was his graveyard.)
Would it have been up to Jazz to choose the words to describe her little light, the brightest star in the galaxy, the one reason she had for getting up in the morning… or would her parents have cremated him and put him on a shelf to prevent a corpse from ‘piloting’ his corpse?
(Jazz still had nightmares about Danny’s death scream. The portal ripping him apart in the same moment it fused him back together.)
(Into something different, something more.)
(He was her little brother, the same one who she spent her birthday money on to get those ridiculous glow-in-the-dark stars.)
(They’d spent hours forming constellations on his ceiling.)
How does one paraphrase a life?
Would Jazz start with his name, his preferred name, or with his date of birth?
Would she put down ‘dearest brother’ or ‘missed’, ‘Be at peace’?
No. Jazz knew she’d give the most important pieces of what made her little brother the brightest star in the sky-
Danny, per aspera ad Astra.
Danny had an unconventional memorial tucked away in the remnants of the Fenton lab, underneath the debris of what was once a strange machine to a world unseen.
The portal was built into the wall with ample access space in the rear for intended maintenance, though it was not required once the portal was completed and functional.
Jazz left flowers for Danny in that maintenance space three days after she first saw his transformation, yellow tulips, though she didn’t know the impact the action would have later in life.
Once a month, Jazz would return to replace the dried flowers, dust away the cobwebs, close the door, rinse and repeat.
Christmas was particularly complicated in the Fenton household, but the first year of Danny’s half-life was the worst Jazz could recall up to that point.
It wasn’t the eerie lack of ghost attacks (thanks to her not knowing of the Truce then), or the winter storm being harsher than any other Amity Park had faced in previous years… No, it was that Danny had died, while nothing and everything changed.
Jack and Maddie still screamed their arguments about Santa Claus, loud and proud for the world to be privy to.
Jazz had extra tutoring to take up for Christmas presents.
Danny… Danny still had to fight a ghost.
Ghostwriter wasn’t a malicious ghost in nature, far from it in fact, but he was never a fan of her little brother.
Jazz overheard Danny tell his friends about his ‘storybook adventure’ and she had to sleep in the access space for the night, just so she didn’t wake anyone with her crying.
It wasn’t right.
That thought repeated on a never-ending loop in her head as she tucked her growing limbs into the cramped space, eyes shut tight and the darkness shrouding her in safety.
(That had been the first nightmare of her own death to come, fingers frantically searching for a pulse as she woke in the dark.)
Perhaps she should have never left that darkness.
Because then the anger that had been building inside of her would never have been unshackled after the release of the tyrant king.
Jazz had been a patient girl her entire life. It was a necessary evil when raised by scientists to follow in their footsteps, though she had no intention to make her life into any imitation of her negligent parents, she learned those lessons at the knee of Maddie Fenton, who had given her life to the pursuit of ecto-science.
(Built a very strange machine to a world unseen.)
When Jazz failed to achieve something, she observed and struck when the opportunity presented it. That’s how she’d survived ghost attacks for so long, escpecially when it was her own dinner- that and the ingrained knowledge to strike hard and quick when it was required. A paradox of a hunter and a hunted, but that was Jasmine Fenton’s upbringing in a nutshell.
Jasmine knew Vladimir Masters was a bigger predator than she was capable of hunting as a young girl.
(Jazz was just a little girl when Vlad became obsessed with her and her mom.)
(Only the dead truly knew what an older man could do to someone so much smaller.)
It was a waiting game that morphed as she grew, bones sturdy and teeth sharper as Ecto-contamination finally settled into her molecules- Death-claimed, Liminality. Vlad was a false halfa, just as he was a false friend to her parents and a false business man, but as long as he stayed out of her way in caring for her little brother than she would not destroy him.
(She was a patient hunter.)
Pariah Dark was the final crack.
(It needed somewhere to go, all that anger, all that rage.)
Jazz had been patrolling the outer limits of the ghost shield now that Amity was returned to the Living Realm, anxiety in her gut as Danny had yet to show from his battle against the tyrant king.
He had obviously won if they were all safe, right? The mech suit would boost him enough, but could it really kill what was already dead?
Hidden in the embrace of familiar shadows, Jazz witnessed Plasmius carrying an unconscious Danny over his shoulder and a…crown in his right hand.
Not only had the bastard released the King for the Crown of Fire, he’d damned them all for the same item he’d stolen in the aftermath.
Jazz’s next actions weren’t borne from Vengeance, they were unfiltered rage.
Vlad had died that night, Jazz believed wholeheartedly, he died before she locked him in his casket- a since soldered shut Fenton Thermos.
Thing was, Jazz didn’t recall what happened between them- all she could really remember when thinking of that time frame was a green haze that was so similar in color to the damned portal.
One moment, Plasmius had Danny and the Crown. The next, he was a beaten man in his human form with no rise and fall of his chest to convince Jazz he was alive.
Was it concerning? Of course. Jazz never wanted to hurt anyone, especially not in a blackout rage state.
(How times have changed.)
Would she ever mourn Vlad? No. He deserved a far worse fate than a second death.
(His sins were numerous.)
If his casket would later be given to Pandora, the trusted Mentor of the Boy King’s Regent…. Well, where better to keep a body hidden than with a Matriarch who understands the sins of man?
(Pandora had always believed in Jazz, the Regent’s soul was far too bright to be snuffed out without a war.)
Within the Infinite Realms, the Regent was called many things- titles that held little meaning to the one in question, but offered weight to her authority.
The Lady of the Acropolis, for her mentorship with Pandora and position of respect among the populace.
First Knight of the Star King, would be granted once her Regency was over and Danny was crowned. His epithet as ‘Star King’ was a beautiful homage of a lost dream.
Death-Claimed Champion.
It made the Regent grit her teeth when addressed as such, especially when she lived in Gotham presently- the city of Lady Gotham’s Knights… her Champions.
Jazz had survived to adulthood as a highly contaminated Liminal, no patron to claim as her- Not even Pandora counted even though they shared a teacher/student relationship.
Would Jason, Red Hood of the Alley, be able to handle managing his territory without the backing of a patron claim? The Lady did swear that the once-Revenant was no longer bound to her service, which meant he could pack up his gear forever if he wanted to.
Though that was highly doubtful.
Jason was a strong willed man to lay claim to his haunt so quickly and hold fast for so long. Jazz shared her haunt with Danny, but that was only because he was the powerful Halfa and future King. His Haunt would never be challenged by a competent opponent, not in Gotham at least.
Perhaps Jason would be willing to unite their haunts?
It was a common tradition for older ghosts to allow weaker ones to share their haunt for protection, but that didn’t translate well to the Death-Claimed.
(Jazz had a hunch that Jason was so in tune with his haunt that he instinctively knew when she or Danny stepped foot across his boundary.)
(They tried not to linger, out of respect of another’s haunt of course.)
Then again, Jason was the Baby Liminal between the two of them. Danny and Jazz should be offering him to share a haunt for protection.
(Jazz couldn’t help but wonder what Jason looked like as a child.)
(She would bet almost anything that he was an adorable kid.)
(Would their kids be so cute?)
There was a slight lilt of sadness that lingered over the daytime hero, Signal, that Danny almost choked on his Death Wish.
The coffee, that is.
Little late on the literal bit.
Gotham (city, not the Lady) was an ever-gloomy fruit basket full of ghastly vibes. You see it and you know you’re in for a bad time, but that’s typically at night.
So what was up with Sunshine Child?
Yeah, he was clearly human and allowed to have off days, duh, but for it to hang like a shroud of storm clouds over Sunny? Yeah, no. That shit needs to be gone, like yesterday.
“Hey, Sunshine!” Danny called out with a false cheer. It was too damn early in the morning for real cheer, are you mad, but Signal didn’t seem to notice as he approached the lawn chair the Halfa had decided would be his new throne.
(At least Jazz would find it funny.)
“Hi Danny. Can I help you with something?”
Danny took a loud sip of his coffee before he went straight for the throat, “You’re doom and gloom this morning, Sunny. Whose bones do I need ‘ta steal?”
“No, no, it’s fine. Just…” the meta Hero trailed off, voice tired as he let himself relax for a moment in Danny’s presence.
(That’s right, Danny’s just a friendly civilian teenager with anger issues, right?)
(Oh he would be cackling at that lie when he had a moment to himself again.)
“My brother is missing.”
Danny blinked.
“Your brother? One of the birdies?” He tried very hard not to pull out any of his jokes about traffic lights and Stabby Robin, but at least he didn’t sound condescending?
“Sorta. Red Hood… he went off grid about a week and a half ago.”
(Yeah this isn’t something Danny should be privy to.)
(Like at all.)
(It’s not like he was housing the guy in his home right?)
(Oh wait.)
“Yikes, Sunny. That sucks, ‘m sorry.”
Signal sighed, “Yeah, thanks Danny.” He paused again, studying the canonical adoption bait that was Danny Fenton before he dropped a bombshell.
“Batman thinks he’s dead.”
(Danny almost cackled in manic glee at that statement.)
(Overshot the mark there, Bats. Yikes.)
Danny happily waved goodbye to his meta friend, a dorky salute with his coffee cup in commersiation of a shitty hour of the day to be awake, before he leaned back in his lawn chair and yawned.
“Oh, what drama. Jazz is gonna kill me all the way if she finds out.” He said out loud to no one in particular. The occasional shade that kept him company didn’t bother to move at the sound of his voice now that Signal had left, but it did let out a mournful trill that made Dannny chuckle.
“Yeah, yep, you’re right- when, when, Jazz finds out.” Danny laughed again, “Worth it.”
A/N:
Yeah, I wasn't expecting so much angst either, but apparently, that's my jam, because I literally cannot write anything else. Well, anything that doesn't sound like two robots trying to mimic humans at least.
This was supposed to be a more upbeat entry and look how epically I failed. I had to put a content warning up top because I wrote/heavily implied that Jazz was abused by Vlad due to his obsession with Maddie.
In other news, I have a playlist now for what songs I listen to while writing this. It's called 'Guns & Sword: Jazz on' 'cause 2am me thinks she's clever.
#dpxdc#dp x dc au#dc x dp crossover#dp x dc#regent!jazz#jazz fenton#jason todd#anger management ship#hardcover ship#jazz x jason#ooh angst#*points at Jazz* this badass can hold so much angst#some character building for Jazz#I swear I try writing dialogue and I choke.#How did i never learn to write dialogue properly?
265 notes
·
View notes
Text
realistically, i would totally have beef going on with everyone from the leaf 🚶🚶like no i would deffo actually despise everyone from that village lol
#tp#like yeah shisui my beloved and ino my bestie and choji my pal and all#but also like screw each of you i hate you y'all are the WORST you get me?? 😔😔#like yeah itachi the tragic hero and whatnot but also FUCK no—#or like jiraiya our fav godfather and all that jazz but also he sus asf#dont get me started on kakashi lol screw him and his childhood trauma too lol everyone is bad on some level there#anbu ppl? all of them suck too im sorry tenzo i like you a lot behind the screen actually#murderers everywhere smfh all of them are downright insane and nuts#and hiruzen and minato?? screw them both they can both go perish pfft#i LOVE their character builds but irl if i was from that village (god forbid i end up ANYWHERE in that world) i would have hated them all
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Brief AU Explanation
I noticed that there are a lot of new followers that do know Danny Phantom, and others that the know very little. I am also aware that I haven't fully explained - maybe NOT in too much detail - the "story" and plots of my AU. You only have the ideas that I've been telling of this story through illustrations.
This AU is all about reconnecting with one self, with Jazz and Dan as the main two of this particular game.
Jazz remains as the same character that is portrayed through the OG show. She has always been the psychology enthusiast of the group, the one that cares for others and help with whatever she can. For her, others come first. First being her family.
On the other hand, we have Dan, an alternate entity of Danny’s ghost half and Vlad’s. A new form of entity that lost his humanity. For him to show any form of emotion is null.
Jazz involvement in this has to do with her putting everyone else first and then herself, and being keen to the study of the human-psyche, and now ghost-psyche, she secretly partakes to the role of Dan’s therapist. This was kept in secret from the rest of her friends and Danny until she can gain more control over Dan.
This, of course, prove to be a VERY difficult task. With her having to hide her constant fears when facing that “particular someone”: he could go on a rampage, have uncontrollable outbursts, cause havoc, and that he could turn against her any day/time without any remorse. She knows this, but she also knows that deep down, her little brother is still there. She’s looking to rekindle that part of him again. Of course, never knowing at what extent this could go.
And this, apparently started to bear fruit, although at a slow pace. As Jazz stood closer and closer to him, she understood that he stayed alone his entire life, and after losing everyone he cared, his violent actions were his significance of showing the world "hurting". The hurt he have been caring so many years. Now he has that second chance. To “live” a new life and Jazz wants to help him out.
With this new information, each time Jazz got close to him, Dan, instead of seeing her as an obnoxious-human-parasite, he slowly starts bonding with her. His interest increasing each day he is with her and grows more comfortable being around her (something Dan originally despised).
***
Part of this AU, enrolls on a particular context that the ghost of a halfa is sentient. The original show as proven this*. When Danny’s ghost has been separated, his ghost has a mind of his own, but when staying together, human-ghost, the consciousness of the halfa acts as one.
*Episodes in question: What You Want, Identity Crisis, The Ultimate Enemy
This part that the ghost plays on the known halfas is a mayor plot point from this AU. Let me explain my concept briefly:
This roll that the ghost is part of the halfa is the one that caries the power of the wielder (human). The human can transform into the ghost and vice versa. The ghost powers remain within the ghost half. The human half acts as a vessel/host to the ghost half.
All living things have the instinct of survival. And on this case, the ghosts would do ANYTHING to keep their host safe as they are the means of a linked connection human-ghost. Not unlike the rest of non-halfa- ghosts that their link/host relies on the Ghost Zone -since they no longer have a corporeal body, the vessel for their survival is ectoplasmic energy, the one that emanates from the GZ.
***
Since Dan is no longer connected to a human, he became a full-ghost. An entity that merged from two ghost halfas. He can sustain himself alone, but strangely enough, he building a bond with Jazz, it rekindled what Jazz intended, but in an unusual way.
Jazz intention was to try and reconnect Dan with his long-lost humanity. Even if he didn’t have a human half, both his ghosts may have some little information stored deep within of what that used to feel like. And even though that started to give results, the ghost also retained that of his original purpose: Protect the host.
And as the bond Dan and Jazz grew more and more, unknown to them, it caused a physical manifestation: a white streak formed in Jazz’s hair. And even if this came up as a surprise to Jazz, she later discovered that this manifestation was much more than just physical.
Dan rekindled his humanity but he, unknowingly, intertwined Jasmine’s humanity to his. Her humanity is part of him. Jasmine’s emotions have an impact on him. Whatever she feels, he can sense it, let them be good or bad ones.
They both are this new form of halfa, both human and ghost are separate life forms, but from the ghost side -Dan’s perspective- Jazz is acting as his human half. His host. That’s is why his instincts respond to protect her at all costs.
No. This new form of a halfa representation doesn't mean Jazz has ghost powers. The one with that power is Dan. This bond is more of a psychic link.
(i.e. In European folklore, you “could” say Dan is Jasmine’s "familiar", although Jazz is not considered to be a witch, but imagine the possibilities of this small plot causing people or ghosts to think Jazz is a witch… idk… random ideas)
This is why Dan is more sympathetic towards Jazz and why their bond is very important.
______________
It's worth pointing out that I don't have a specific name for this AU, like many people do when they create these stories.
And NO. Please refrain from saying this is a romantic relationship. It is a sibling/platonic relationship.
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
I'm in A Mood™ (stressed) so im going back to my roots of melting two character together into one person. So bruce wayne!danny fenton. Danny Fenton who, for eight years, grew up in a beautiful gothic manor with his mom and dad under the name "Bruce Wayne". Playing piano with his mother, running around the manor with his father.
Then when he's eight it's ripped away from him. There's blood on his hands and pearls pooling at his feet, and both his parents are dead in front of him.
And he gets shipped off to distant relatives "the Fentons" shortly after, Alfred close on his heels because someone needs to take care of him, someone that knows him. Bruce goes to the Fentons for the safety of anonymity. Gotham's press wants to sink its teeth into him.
Danny misses his city even if it took everything from him. There are shadows in his eyes and he's pale as a sheet even beside his distant cousins, and they change his name to "Danny Fenton' because nobody should know that their newest child was illustrious orphan Bruce Wayne.
They call him Bruce behind closed doors. Danny prefers it that way, he clings onto the name -- the one his parents gave him -- like a lifeline. He makes friends with Sam and Tucker. Tucker takes one look at the willowy, morbid little boy standing in the corner like a shade, ghosts in his eyes, and drags him out into the sunlight, and takes him over to Sam.
When Danny is twelve, he's still not over it -- and he's a little obsessed with the Fentons' research, with the morbid. He has books upon books on death, murder, detective work. Anything he can get his hands on. And stars. He loves stars.
Alfred owns the apartment next to them and comes over regularly. Danny clings to him.
When Danny is twelve, he's still quiet, meek, a shy little thing prone to being bullied. Freaky little Fenton with the night in his eyes and too-cold skin even before he put one foot in the grave. in a sleepover in his room with Sam and Tucker, he tells them the truth. They're his friends, he trusts them.
"My name is Bruce." he murmurs, voice quiet as the breeze, always quiet. he's staring at his star-covered sheets.
"Like Bruce Wayne?" Tucker asks, a joking tone in his voice.
Danny smiles a little, lamb-like with insecurity. "I am Bruce Wayne." And he takes them down to the lab, disrupting Maddie and Jack, to prove it. Sam tells them of her own wealth then shortly after. They start calling Danny "Bruce" in private too -- its trust. Thats what it is. It's trust.
Sam goes to media functions and comes back with aching feet and complaints on her tongue -- and Danny soaks it up all like a sponge, splayed across a beanbag chair with Tucker in her room. He's not envious of her, he used to go to events with his parents and they kept him safe from the ugly of Gotham's Elite. For the most part. He's had comments made at him, he doesn't miss them.
Alfred returns to the manor semi-regularly, Danny goes with him. he wanders the hallways and helps Alfred clean, the last thing either of them want is for their home to fall into disrepair. He brings Jazz with him next time, then Tucker, then Sam. They all help him clean, and he shows them his room. The one across from his parents', it feels strange.
When Danny dies when he's fourteen, the first adult he tells is Alfred. He and Jazz go over to his house more often than they stay in the Fentonworks building. At least at Alfred's, the food doesn't come to life. Alfred sits at the kitchen table and weeps when Danny tells him, Jazz is upstairs, and its just the two of them.
Danny's ghost form wears pearls around his wrist and the gloves look stained with some kind of black substance. He looks like a child who died in a lab accident, but he also looks like a child who has shadows dripping off his shoulders, curling at his feet, hanging from his eyes.
because amorphous blob batman has my heart always and danny/bruce will not escape it even in death even if that IS the only reason im giving him Mild BatBlob Vibes...so far
when they go to the manor, alfred helps danny make a pile of stones between Martha and Thomas' graves, nobody but the two of them (and sam and tucker) will know what it means. (not even bruce's children later down the line, not for a long, long time)
danny dives into ghost fighting on shaky feet and not half as witty as he once was in one world. he's skittish, skittering between blasts from shadow to shadow and clumsily making his way through each battle. but helping people lights a fire in him. he still has shadows dripping off his feet but there's a purpose in his eyes.
and god help him, he's going to help people.
#dpxdc#dp x dc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc crossover#dpdc#dpxdc prompt#this is just me torturing danny for a little bit because im stressed and i cried for an hour while i was driving so im taking it out on B#thanks for being my little stress ball danny#aha my old middle school habit of frankensteining two characters together is resurfacing again :) yall should've seen my wattpad drafts#in middle school. i had 50 of them and most of them were me combining two characters together to make one person and putting them in one au#my most memorable being skydoesminecraft and harry potter. THAT was a fun worldbuilding experience#do i think that growing up with the fentons would fix bruce/danny completely?? hurm. no. dont kid yallselves jazz is not a licensed#therapist not even at like. nine when she meets danny. she's not helping him through his trauma in the slightest. she's nagging.#she's his sister or sister-like figure before she's his therapist. would he be#*entirely* like canon bruce tho?? no. dannybruce is a mix of the both of them. but this is still the first post of the au and is more so#just me doing the equivalent of popping a stress ball so nothing is smoothed over. mostly im just trying to keep bruce's trauma prominent i#danny's character because he IS Bruce. i dont want him to just be 'danny with bruce's backstory but without any of the ugly bits'.#danny and bruce is used interchangeably because they're the same person but sorry if his personality feels imbalanced i came up with this o#the spot. was going to type more but the stress has left me. for now. watch ur back danny 👀
441 notes
·
View notes
Text
Too Ashamed of Writing to Write
Anonymous asked: I've spent ten years thinking of stories, ideas, characters, magic systems, concepts, all that jazz, but when I actually have to write it down, I feel this overwhelming sense of shame and disgust. Just looking at what I write makes me feel bad. If I posted my writing in forums for serious writers, it'd immediately get torn to shreds. It's a constant downer and it dissuades me from wanting to write more. Is there advice for nervous nellies like me to overcome this fear that's a little sweeter than "grit your teeth and bear it?"
[Ask edited for length]
First, this is normal. A lot of writers struggle with it. The reason why, I think, is our society puts so much emphasis on finished products, we've collectively forgotten the reality behind what it takes to get to that finished product. We've forgotten that things take practice and time and polishing, and that to make good art, you first have to make bad art. If you can't learn to sit with your bad art, you'll never get good enough to make good art.
So, yes, unfortunately... though it may have a bitter taste, "grit your teeth and bear it" is the usual advice because it's true advice. If you can't grit your teeth and wade through the bad art to get to the good art, you'll never get to the good art.
Here are some things that might help. First, watch this:
youtube
Some links to previous posts:
Comparing Self to Others, Insecure About Writing
Building Confidence in Your Writing
Concentrate on Quantity at First, Not Quality
Guide: Dealing with Self-Doubt & Impostor Syndrome
You will get there, I promise! ♥
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!
LEARN MORE about WQA
SEE MY ask policies
VISIT MY Master List of Top Posts
COFFEE & FEEDBACK COMMISSIONS ko-fi.com/wqa
467 notes
·
View notes
Text
Smoke Eater - Part 15
Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader
Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.
That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.
AN: Thank you as always for the lovely responses on the previous chapter! It was a long one, so thank you for sticking through with me. We're about to lighten up a little with some Christmas spirit! ❄️🎁
**Also, if you're a fan of The Boys (and Soldier Boy), there's an awesome book you can check out, called Supes Ain’t Always Heroes: Inside the Complex Characters and Twisted Psychology of The Boys.
If you want to learn more about the book (including cast interviews and a character study on Soldier Boy), I wrote a review about it here!
Otherwise, on to some more firefighter!Dean!
🔥 Series Masterlist
Word Count: 5,800
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, fluff, tinge of angst, hurt/comfort, lots of feels.
Part 15: “The Good Part”
“How many damn arrests does that make?” Daniel asked. He gripped his pool cue with both hands while he leaned on it.
His son stood at the other end of the pool table, lining up his shot. He paused to think.
“Six,” Nick replied. His cue released, and it knocked two of his balls into the pocket.
“Six,” Daniel repeated, while Nick came his way to find an angle for his next turn.
Daniel shook his head. His lips were angrily pursed. His eyes might’ve been on the pool game, but he was playing chess in his mind. He had underestimated John Winchester for far too long, it seemed.
The man was stubborn as all hell. And he’d been busy lately, getting “Azazel’s” men busted for all manners of bullshit.
“Alastair’s mole says Winchester’s been calling in favors from his old friends in Narcotics, trying to bust our small fries,” Nick reported. “Getting them on everything from petty theft to drug possession, with intent to sell. But it’s nothing we can’t pull ‘em out of.”
“Time, money, added risk,” Daniel cited on his fingers all the reasons why John Winchester was a pain in his ass. “It’s only a matter of time before they get a warrant to rip apart Savage & Co., sweep the whole damn building. For forensic evidence, our files, all the jazz.”
Daniel’s fingers drummed thoughtfully against his chin. “A damn cop thinks he’s being cute.”
Nick missed his second turn. His hand fell against his thigh in annoyance, but he looked up.
“Dad, it’s your move.”
Daniel rubbed at his chin. His eyes were no longer seeing the board in front of him. Eventually, they slid up and met his son’s gaze.
“We’re going to start from the beginning,” he said.
Nick’s face gave away his confusion. “What? What do you mean?”
Daniel just smiled.
It was Christmas Day, and John was late. Sam and Dean were used to that drill, so they weren’t expecting him until dinnertime.
Meanwhile, it gave you a chance to find your footing as you got to know Eileen. She had helped you bake the pies that were now cooling on the counter (pumpkin and berry crumble), and a few of the side dishes for dinner. Sam had covered cleaning up the rest of the house, while Dean tackled his favorites: the ham and the mac and cheese.
Now the guys were in the living room watching football while you and Eileen were still in the kitchen, decorating some gingerbread cookies you two had made. She enjoyed it; doing holiday crafts with her students had been bringing out her artistic side, she told you. You were happy for the help and the conversation.
You later tried to cover up your snort of laughter as she finished telling you the story of how Dean once dared Sam to wear women’s underwear for a whole week.
If he managed it, Dean had promised to do all the household chores for three months. If Sam couldn’t make it the whole week, then he would face the consequences: Dean would tell their dad about the bet.
“How old were they?” you asked.
Eileen scoffed. “Sam was a senior in college.”
You burst out laughing again. “So too old, is the answer… Did he win?”
Eileen gave you a mischievous smile.
“He did,” Dean said, as he appeared in the kitchen doorway with a familiar smirk. “I’ve got photographic evidence. It was a cheetah print thong, in case you were wondering.”
Your eyes widened on a laugh. “Oh my God.”
Cheetahlicious, you couldn’t help joking in your mind. Even if you’d rather not think of Sam wearing a pair of Victoria Secret’s best.
Eileen giggled with you. Dean’s amusement gave way to curiosity as he eyed the little gingerbread men you two were icing. You warned him off with your eyes, but it took Eileen batting his hand when he tried to steal a cookie.
“Hey! Wait ‘til after dinner,” she said.
Dean pouted. “Come on, don’t be stingy.”
Rolling her eyes, Eileen sighed.
“You’re like one of my kids,” she said, while signing with her hands. But she caved and handed him a cookie. “Here. To tide you over.”
Dean smiled and signed back to her in ASL, Thank you.
“That’s why you’re my favorite,” he said. He leaned down to kiss her cheek in a brotherly gesture.
He shot you a wink before taking a bite of his prize. You shook your head at him, even though you were smiling. He came around to your side of the table. His hand rested on your back and he bent down towards your ear.
“I actually came over for you,” he said. “Got a minute?”
Your brows rose, but you turned to Eileen in askance. “I’ll be right back. Is that okay?”
She nodded and made an “OK” gesture. “Of course.”
You smiled and let Dean lead you out of your chair, and even out of the apartment. He made sure you both grabbed your coats by the front door.
“Where are we going?” you asked. While you put on your coat over your sweater and jeans, you didn’t notice him grabbing two sets of keys.
“Just downstairs. No big deal,” he said, hefting on his own leather jacket.
You eyed him with some suspicion, but you walked with him down to the elevators and let him keep you close to his side. He smelled like the cologne you bought him for Christmas, and he was already wearing the new watch as well.
You’d struggled to find him the right gift. Nothing felt quite enough after everything he’d done for you the last few months. He’d assured you that he was grateful for both gifts, and had even tried to say the watch looked too expensive. (You’d shut him up with a kiss.)
Now, you had to wonder what he was up to as he led you into the parking lot, but not toward Baby. Instead, you two stopped in front of a shiny silver Chevy parked in a guest spot.
“Dean, what’d you do?” you asked, both excited and worried. He shot you a grin and dangled the keys in front of you.
“You like her?” he asked. His eyes were dancing. “You could keep her, if you ask nicely.”
Your face slackened. You looked between him and the sleek looking car.
“What?” You covered your mouth with both hands. Even after a few moments, your brain was still having a hard time computing. “No…what? Oh my God!”
You grabbed onto his jacket, just in case your legs failed you. Dean laughed and gathered you up in his arms. By the time you peeled your eyes away from the silver beauty to look up at your boyfriend, there were tears already swimming in your eyes.
“Dean, this is really too much. Where’d you find—”
“Bobby had it sitting in his garage for years,” he explained. His hand came up to brush your cheek, and the tears there. “I cleaned her up, dropped in a new engine, safe-proofed with new tires, new airbags, the works. Got her purring like a kitten.”
Your eyes grew a little wider with every admission. Then you softened, gripping the edges of his jacket while you bit your lip to keep it from wobbling.
“How much did he sell it to you for?” you asked. Dean dropped his head back with a sigh.
“Don’t you wanna take a test ride before we start hagglin’?”
You lightly smacked his chest. “Hey. How much?”
He let out another heavy sigh, but you eventually got it out of him. While the price wasn’t as bad as you might’ve expected, you still shook your head.
“I still have a decent chunk of insurance money left. I’m giving you at least half,” you said.
Dean shook his head. “This is my gift to you.”
Your lips pursed, despite the smile that wanted to peek through.
“Nice try,” you said wryly. “You already got me perfume.”
“That was just the decoy.” He grinned, and held you a bit tighter against him. He nodded towards the car. “She’s the main event.”
You wanted to sigh, but this conversation wasn’t over. You were definitely not letting him buy you a whole new…old car. You turned to look at it again.
“What model is this?” you asked.
“2002 Camaro Z28,” Dean rattled off. It sounded impressive, but you didn’t know much about cars.
He let go of you so you could get a closer look. Your hand passed over the hood, but didn’t touch, as if you were afraid of staining the paint with your fingerprints. He had to admit, he’d waxed it up good and managed to get rid of a lot of superficial nicks and scratches.
What he said was true though; Bobby had given him a frankly ridiculous deal. Because when Dean had told him what you’d been through after the car accident, dealing with your grandfather’s passing, and now your ever-mounting expenses, Bobby hadn’t let him walk away from Singer Salvage with anything else but this car. He’d even helped Dean get the new parts he needed to fix it up.
“Is it automatic or manual?” you asked, trying to peer through the driver’s window. “I haven’t driven stick in a hell of a long time.”
Dean came up from behind you and his warm hand found your hip. You let him draw you back into his arms, leaning against his chest.
His lips were close to your ear when he said, “I think you’re damn good at driving stick.”
It took you a second, but the heavily laden innuendo in his deep voice was hard to miss. You uttered a laugh and swatted his arm.
“You’re ridiculous,” you said. You were still smiling when you turned and twined your arms around his neck. Then you leaned up for a kiss—one that kept getting deeper with the full force of your gratefulness, and your love for this man.
“It’s an automatic,” he answered, between kisses. You giggled against his lips.
You barely felt the chill on the air. Your heart was beating fast, even when you pulled away from him. Your eyes slowly opened and met his. He smiled down at you and curled an errant strand of hair behind your ear. As usual, you had most of it clipped up.
“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he said. His voice was quiet, but steady.
You let out a shaky breath. Emotion was clogging your throat, making your tears burn anew.
“This is a bit more than a Christmas present,” you said. He gave a more self-deprecating smile.
“Well, it’s also kind of an apology,” he said. “For getting you mixed up in my ‘family business.’”
He still felt guilt beyond belief for putting you in danger. For your life being threatened. For being the reason you couldn’t go home.
You just shook your head. Your hand raised to press against his cheek. Your thumb drew tenderly along his chin.
“I thought you said you were part of my family now?” you said. “We’ll figure this out together, like everything else.”
Dean’s eventual smile lightened you, and his kiss warmed you down to your toes.
“If you want, let’s go for a ride after dinner,” he said.
It was your turn to smirk. Your hands migrated under his jacket and teased at his belt.
“Well, I’m certainly down for a ride,” you said.
Dean laughed and squeezed your hips. “All right. I’m puttin’ you on my naughty list.”
When John finally arrived, the brothers welcomed him in first with big man hugs and good-natured ribbing for him being so damn late.
In Sam’s words, Upholding a Winchester family tradition.
John had taken that with a chuckle. “Smells damn good in here.”
“Yeah, food’s been done for an hour,” Dean prodded at him again. His grin betrayed his teasing, however. His welcoming hand stayed on his dad’s shoulder until they reached the living room, where Sam had set up a longer fold out table and chairs to function as the makeshift dining room, since the table near the kitchen only seated three.
There you were opening a bottle of Jack Daniels. You smiled up at John.
“Figured you were more of a whiskey than wine kind of guy,” you said. You were a bit nervous to see him again, no doubt with flour in your hair and frosting staining your hands. He clasped your shoulder with a hint of a smile.
“You’d be right. Good to see you, darlin’,” he said.
“You too,” you replied. Despite the fact that the first and last time you two had met, it had been in front of your house as the police rifled through your life, looking for more explosives. He graciously didn’t bring that up as he greeted Eileen next.
Once dinner was on the table, there was a lot of catching up between the brothers and their father while you and Eileen continued talking, even through dessert.
“This really is amazing,” she told you, pointing her fork at her slice of berry crumble. “I can see why you went to culinary school.”
You blushed as Sam, Dean, and even John echoed her praise. All three men had generous slices of both pies.
“Well, thank you. I’m glad you guys enjoy it,” you said, and your smile was genuine.
You loved making good food, but you loved feeding people even more. Whether it was a simple hearty soup or a rich dessert, you liked putting smiles on their faces and giving them a good experience; one they could share with their family and friends. Even better if it was your family.
Or as Dean would say, Your people.
To you, that was life.
“I’m tellin’ you, if you opened up a bakery you’d make a killing in this town,” Dean said. He nudged your hand with the one that held his fork; it held a precarious piece of pumpkin pie.
You shot him an amused look.
“Don’t you look at me sideways, I’m serious,” he said, laughing a little, but his gaze was steady.
Your cheeks warmed against your will. He believed in your dream, even when you couldn’t quite let yourself.
“Hey, if you ever want to look into applying for a loan, I could help,” Sam said, earning your attention. “I have a friend who works at a bank.”
Your brows raised. “Really?”
He nodded. “Yeah, we were pre-law together back in college, but he figured he was better with numbers.”
You smiled. “Well, it would make it easier knowing I was dealing with your friend.”
“Yeah, his name’s Brady. Let me know if you want me to call him,” he said.
You bit your lip, but you nodded. “Thanks. I’ll let you know.”
Maybe they were right. Maybe you should start to believe in yourself, just a little bit more.
“This was all real delicious,” John said to you, when you came back from bringing the leftovers to the kitchen.
Sam and Dean were already arguing about who was doing the dishes and who was drying them. Meanwhile, Eileen was putting away the food (and probably rolling her eyes).
“Yeah, it was a team effort for sure,” you replied. “Dean’s actually a really good cook.”
John chuckled. “Yeah, well, he didn’t get that from me. I can barely boil a damn egg.”
You smiled to yourself; you could imagine Dean got it from his mother then.
Meanwhile, John was watching you stack the empty plates as he grew more contemplative. He’d always been proud of his sons. They were good men, with strong heads on their shoulders.
He often looked at Sam and saw that he seemed happy. Despite the demands of his job, he was learning to balance that with the life he led with Eileen. As a father, John looked forward to the day when they made a firm foundation, taking the next step towards building a life together.
But Dean had seemed to him, a little unstable. John was still proud of his eldest, but while he’d seen a glimpse of it that day at your house, he saw it even more today. Like his son finally had an anchor, tethering him to dry land.
Even so, he couldn’t help heaving a sigh. And he asked you something he knew he shouldn’t.
“Have you given any more thought to filing a report on Nick Savage?” he asked.
You paused in your plate and cup stacking. You looked up at him with a frown, but you thought about your words before you said something rude.
“Yes, I did,” you replied. “I decided my life and my peace were more important.”
He let out a short sigh. “I understand—”
“I’m sorry, John, but I don’t think you do,” you said. Your words were matter-of-fact, if a tad more sharp than you meant them to be. Your hands were starting to tremble.
You crossed your arms to try and steady yourself, but Dean ended up doing just that, by joining your side and resting a hand at the small of your back. He was frowning, glancing between you and his father.
“Tell me you’re not talking about what I think you are,” Dean said, addressing John in particular. “Not on damn Christmas.”
“Like you said, it’s her decision,” John replied. His gaze once again focused on you.
You let out a breath, mostly of exasperation.
“I’m going to bottom-line it for you. If I report that man, and you can’t guarantee me a job and safety until it’s all over, then I’m not poking the bear,” you said. “I plan to keep my head down until I can find another job. Until then, you can have at him all you want. Just leave me out of it.”
Part of you felt selfish. You knew what John was trying to accomplish, and you knew how personal this fight was for him, and for Sam and Dean for that matter. You just couldn’t shake your gut instincts here. You knew Nick far too well by now, and you didn’t want to underestimate him again.
“I agree,” said Dean. You gave him a grateful look.
John conceded with a nod, but all of you knew he wasn’t satisfied. It became a bitter ending to an otherwise brilliant day after he left for the night.
In your mind, it wasn’t quite over yet though. You had a plan up your sleeve for one Dean Winchester.
Sam and Eileen had their own time together while you and Dean went for a drive in your new car. You’d have to transfer your plate and registration and insurance, so it was technically an “illegal” drive, but it was already late and traffic was scarce.
By the time you pulled back into the parking lot, you were smiling from ear to ear, and Dean was giving you that smug grin that said, Aw yeah, I did good.
You couldn’t even fault him for it, because he did exactly that.
Even when you and Dean were getting ready for bed, it didn’t quite feel real. You were living with your boyfriend of just a few months, you now had a new car, and a crime lord had threatened your life.
You chose to focus on the new car. And on your boyfriend, who sat on the edge of his side of the bed, rubbing his right shoulder through his shirt. You knew it must still be sore, though he likely wouldn’t admit it.
Hence, you were about to enact Phase 1 of your plan…
You hadn’t undressed yet from your jeans and sweater, but you crawled across the bed to come up behind him and drop a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“How’s your slugging arm?” you asked.
Dean quirked a smile at you over his shoulder. “Just fine.”
“Dean,” you said. Your tone was gentle, but warning. No downplaying.
You pressed your lips against the side of his head and soothed your hand along his shoulder and down his arm. Still, he was resistant.
“I’m fine, sweetheart,” he said.
You hummed. “Okay. I guess you don’t need a massage then.”
He paused. His head tilted just so, once again turning to you over his shoulder. You spied the edge of his piqued interest, his grin.
“Well, if you’re offering…”
You withdrew your hand from his arm, but you spoke close to his ear.
“Are you asking?”
He let out a small sigh, despite his lingering smile.
“All right. Will you please give me a lil’ massage?” he asked.
He couldn’t see your triumphant smile, but you happily kissed his cheek.
“I sure can,” you replied. You laid gentle hands on his shoulders, however briefly. “Stay right here. Don’t move, but take off your shirt.”
“All right, Miss Bossy,” he grumbled. You knew he was teasing by the amused look he threw your way.
“I thought you liked that,” you teased back.
You climbed off the bed before he could playfully grab you, and you giggled all the way to the bathroom. There you began Phase 2 of your plan.
First, you collected a few different bottles from your designated drawer under the sink. Then, you made a quick wardrobe change, after popping back into the bedroom to grab something from your nightstand.
You also connected your phone to the speaker on his nightstand and put some music on a low volume. It was a playlist he’d made and shared with you a while ago, with songs he thought you’d like. The Eagles’ “Take It to the Limit” was definitely on the list.
By the time you returned to Dean, he was indeed shirtless, still in his sweatpants, and checking his watch.
“I’m here, I’m here,” you said. You climbed across the bed with your small haul—a difficult feat with your hands full, but you managed.
Dean turned to look at the bottles of moisturizer you dropped next to him on the bed. He rose a brow.
“Twilight Woods. Japanese Cherry Blossom. Appletini. Are these my only options?” he asked. His face was half bemused, half reluctant.
You almost burst out laughing. “Which one strikes your fancy?”
He scratched the back of his head. You opened the second bottle first (your personal favorite), so he could smell.
“Not bad actually,” he muttered. You bit your lip so you wouldn’t giggle, but you managed to open the other two for him to get a whiff.
“Eh, the first one I guess,” he said.
Japanese Cherry Blossom. AKA: a classic from Bath & Body Works.
You finally had to laugh. “Just kidding. I’ve got this.”
You held up a jar you’d been hiding behind him. Its logo said: Massage Oil.
“I just wanted to see which girly moisturizer you secretly wanna slather all over yourself,” you said.
Dean shot you a wry look, but only then did he see what you were wearing.
“Oh, hold up,” he uttered.
Your hair was let loose, how you knew he liked, and you’d teased it out a little. You’d had to give away the red lingerie you’d bought, to rid both of you of its lingering memories of your work Christmas party. Instead, you’d found something in a vibrant emerald green: satin and lace.
Dean’s hand reached for your waist, probably to bring you closer. But you playfully slapped his hand.
“Eh-eh! Not yet,” you said to his surprised face. You smiled. “I have a plan for you tonight.”
Slowly, he smirked. His eyes still dipped to take in the rest of you, from your pretty face, to exposed skin and cleavage, to shiny satin that clung to your curves and draped down to mid-thigh.
“I can see,” he said. His voice was a notch deeper. “Merry Christmas to me.”
Despite your blush and growing smile, you turned him back around by his shoulders.
“Just relax.”
You let your hands drift up the back of his neck to slide your fingers through his hair. There you began with a slow, gentle massage of his head. You felt him take a deep breath.
You couldn’t see it, but Dean’s eyes had closed at your ministrations. He secretly really liked the feeling of your fingers running through his hair. It made his shoulders loosen; with tension he didn’t know he had releasing from the neck down.
Aside from the rigors of his job, he also had to work out and condition his body to keep up his stamina. He probably didn’t spend as much time as he should on this aspect of things, making sure he wasn’t overtaxing himself.
He appreciated what you were doing though. He knew you cared about him, that you loved him. But he liked that you were also a caring person, who tried to take care of him. Dean hadn’t really had that…from anyone before. Sometimes, it was hard for him to let you.
…Damn, we really got too much in common, he realized.
When you migrated back down his neck, your hands left for a moment to gather up some oil. It was warm against his skin when you started between his shoulders, digging with the heel of your hands.
He groaned deep, surprising even himself.
Behind him, your brows were furrowed. “You’re really knotted up here. When was the last time you had a massage?”
Dean chuckled. “Never.”
You frowned. “Hmm. Okay, we’re definitely doing this more often.”
“No complaints from me,” he said with a grin.
Of course, you gave special attention to his right shoulder. You were gentler there, asking what was tender and what felt good, or too much. By then you had an easier time getting the truth out of Dean. He let you know when the pressure was too much, and you even helped him stretch out that arm until the muscles and joints were warmed up and the pain was gone.
You encouraged him to lie on his stomach in the middle of the bed, so you could start on his back. Your hands glided down planes of muscle and smooth slopes while you straddled his thighs. The only sounds you heard from him were occasional moans and rumbling, pleased sounds. That was also what let you know that he hadn’t fallen asleep.
“Okay, turn over,” you said, smiling when he groaned in protest. “I haven’t even gotten to the good part.”
“What the hell’s the good part then?” he asked. His voice was muffled in the mattress, but when he turned around, flopping onto his back, his eyes once again took in the green satin and seemed to remember what your real intentions were.
“Oh, yeah,” he said. His grin was lazy, now that he was beyond relaxed, but his hands found purchase on your hips. You smiled down at him.
You let the remaining oil on your hands glide up his chest, until you lowered down for a kiss. It was unhurried and sweet.
“I love you, you know?” you said.
Dean swept his fingers through your hair, tucking a few strands behind your ear.
He smiled. “I’ve got some idea, yeah.”
You both laughed, soft and true. Your hand rested against his cheek as you pressed your lips to his, soft and slow at first, but soon gaining in both passion and urgency. You felt his grip on your hips tighten, grinding your center against his growing length.
He groaned. No goddamn panties on. Good.
You kissed your way from his lips to his neck. Your teeth grazed his ear while you rolled your hips into his. It was a tease for both of you, but not for long, as Dean grew impatient enough to slide his sweatpants down, followed by his hands slipping under the satin covering your thighs. They traveled further still, squeezing your breasts and rolling hardened nipples under the pads of his thumbs.
Your breath hitched, and your pleased hum was music to his ears. By now you were bracing yourself against the mattress, but you used his shoulders as leverage to raise yourself up.
You took his hands and encouraged them to bunch up the satin and pull it over your head. Dean sat up with you still in his lap, and once his strong arm wrapped around your waist, it was skin to flushed skin.
You held his face and brought him down to you for another fierce kiss. He held you tightly against him, hands splayed across your back and tangling in your hair. His arms were a cage you never wanted to escape.
But you did press away from him, just for a moment, so you could reach down between your bodies to take a firm hold of his cock. You guided it to your entrance. There was already a small flood between your legs, and your core ached for him.
There was almost no resistance when you slowly sunk your hips down and down, until he was buried deep inside you.
You both made sounds of pleasure, with labored breaths as Dean’s hand cradled your cheek. He laid open-mouthed kisses to your jaw, teeth grazing down your neck.
You clung to his shoulders and began to move, slow in the way you let almost the full length of his cock escape you, before you slid back down. Dean moaned into your skin, and you let out a shuddering sigh.
You pushed at Dean’s chest until he was lying back, and you continued rolling your hips against his. He helped you create a steady rhythm on top of him, but he was being treated to a feast of the eyes as well as the pleasure rocking through his body. He watched the way you swept your hair back. The way your eyes closed and brows furrowed in concentration as you bit your lip.
But he couldn’t stay still for long; he knew he was close enough to practically taste his end, but you had some miles to go. He gripped your thigh with one hand while the other glided up between them, to further part your folds. His fingers found your clit, circling insistently like it was a button. It had your hips stuttering.
“Oh, God,” you uttered. “Dean—”
He managed to smirk through panting breaths. “Right there, right baby?”
You nodded, unable to speak. You continued to move as steadily as you could, but the feeling of him deep inside combined with his talented fingers playing you like a five-string guitar—it finally made you tighten on him, shuddering deep inside. Tingles broke across your skin, zipping up your spine as you gasped.
Dean helped you with the last few hard thrusts that brought him along with you, and you felt his warmth spilling inside you.
It wasn’t the first time that had happened, since you were on birth control. But after you slid off his lap and practically rolled into his side, him welcoming you with an arm wrapping around your waist, it did make you think, as you caught your breath.
It made you think about the first time you and Dean slept together. It had been the first and last time you’d asked him to wear a condom. The next morning, he’d made a remark that still hung in the back of your mind…
“You like kids, huh?”
The thought still rattled through your mind now, after you and Dean shared a quick shower, ridding you both of the oil clinging to your skin. The thought remained when you slid into bed, under fresh sheets and thick covers, and close to your man. He cupped your cheek and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes at the feeling.
Contrary to what this night had been, the whole “moving in together” thing hadn’t been all that easy. You two had bickered about the way he often left drawers and cabinets open and dirty clothes on the floor.
He had made remarks about your hair products taking up too much space in his drawers. Not to mention how morning routines needed to adjust because Dean liked to shower in the morning, but you needed the mirror not fogged up in order to do your makeup.
Right now, however, you had peace. You felt safe here, and you weren’t alone in a huge house filled with far too many memories.
“Can I ask you something?” you said.
Dean’s lips lingered on your forehead. “Hmm?”
“I know this situation is sort of temporary, me living here,” you said. “So much has happened that we haven’t really talked about…what we both want, down the line.”
He pulled back enough from you to see your face. His face betrayed a thread of confusion.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“I mean like…” you hesitated, but you realized you were probably going to have to be direct. “Are you a marriage and kids kind of guy? Is that even something you’ve thought about?”
Dean met your gaze. It took him a moment, but he let out a short sigh.
“You wanna know what made me want to start dating, for real?” he asked.
You blinked; you hadn’t expected that, but you nodded.
“I started thinking about what would happen if something happened to me on the job,” he said. You frowned, but before you could say anything, he raised a placating hand.
“I thought about what I’d leave behind,” said Dean. He quirked a wry smile. “It’s not much, besides my car.”
You frowned in earnest. Your hand flattened against his bare chest.
“That’s not true,” you said. “You have your brother, your father, and your friends. That’s plenty, Dean.”
He conceded that with a nod. “You’re right. But I just started thinking, maybe I want more. Like uh…like what my parents had, when they were happy. The house, each other, me and Sammy…a family.”
You couldn’t be certain in the near total darkness of the room, with only the moonlight filtering through the blinds and casting a glow behind him, but you thought you saw a shine in his eyes. Your hand crept up from beneath the covers to find his cheek. It was rough with stubble, yet you tenderly swept a thumb back and forth.
“I think that’s beautiful,” you replied.
Dean paused. He then huffed in amusement. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you smiled, hoping he could see it.
“Then uh, is that something you’d be into?” he asked. You were amused by his tentative approach.
“With you?” You pretended to think. Your fingers slipped into his hair. “Yeah, I think I’m into that.”
He chuckled. “Okay, then. Good to know.”
He grasped your wrist and turned his head to press a kiss into your palm.
And he spoke into the dark. “I love you too, you know.”
Your smile deepened as you rested your head against his arm. You whispered into the small space between your faces.
“Yeah, I’ve got some idea.”
AN: 🥹 All righty, how'd you like that fluff overload?
...Ready for some more drama? 😏
Next Time:
But the more you thought about what you’d heard, and Nick’s ominous threat about a cop, you found yourself scrolling lower in your contacts. You called John Winchester.
It rang a few times, and all the while you made silent, fervent prayers. Pick up, damn it! You could hear your own heartbeat in your ears.
“Winchester,” he answered.
“John, it’s me,” you whispered. “Azazel’s here. Or, he’s not here, here, but I know who he is. Well, I mean kind of—”
“Okay, wait. Slow down,” he said. “What about Azazel? You know who he is?”
Keep Reading: PART 16
Dean Winchester Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Series Tag List (Part 1):
@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb
@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91
@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann814 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19
@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420
#The Good Part#Smoke Eater#Part 15#dean winchester#Firefighter!Dean Winchester#dean winchester x reader#Dean Winchester x female reader#firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader#dean winchester x you#firefighter AU#dean winchester AU#spn#supernatural#Sam Winchester#eileen leahy#john winchester#zepskies writes
379 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Greatest Gift of All (JJK Men x Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)
"How’s this for a Christmas gift, hm?"
Pairing: JJK Men x Black!Fem!Reader
Synopsis: In which your friends take it upon themselves to help you release your inner slut by taking you to a glory hole for the first time to get you some dick for Christmas. Many of them.
Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Dubcon/R*pe (to be safe); Reader is Fem; Reader is Black-coded; Reader Has Breasts/ Pussy/Brown Nipples/Thick Thighs/Curves; Gloryhole; Deepthroating; Face-Fucking; Hair-Pulling; SLOPPY Blowjobs & Cunnilingus; Fingering; Anal Play/Anal; Ripping Clothes; Some Dacryphilia; Unprotected PIV Sex; Creampies; Bukkake; Consensual Gangbang; Petnames; Degradation; Praise; Aftercare
Petnames According to Characters:
Gojo: Cutie
Geto: Baby Doll
Nanami: Darling
Sukuna: Princess
Choso: Mama
Mahito: Kitty
Toji: Little Girl
Shiu: Pretty Girl
Ino: Sugar
Todo: Gorgeous
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!
*IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: Regarding the "dubcon/r*pe" warning, while the reader does consent to a gangbang, there are parts in this one shot where she does not VERBALLY consent to different, sexual things done to her, BUT does enjoy them.
Writer’s Note: MERRY (early) CHRISTMAS, YA FILTHY SLUTS!! I'm wine drunk & going to bed. Brace yourselves. This one is very long & VERY nasty. Enjoy & stay sexy! Love you! -Jazz
*********
You stand in front of the strange building with its glowing, neon sign pointing down the stairwell beneath the building, staring at them like they’re the gates leading straight to Hell.
“You’ve got to be fuckin’ joking,” you whisper to yourself.
You turn to your friends who excitedly stare at you under the glowing street lamps, their excited breaths leaving their mouths in puffs of air in the cold December night. “This was your gift to me for Christmas?!” you squeak. “A glory hole?! You brought me to a fuckin’ glory hole of all places?!”
“Surprise!” Shoko shouts while Mai excitedly giggles. Beside her, Maki just looks ready to get inside somewhere and get warm, hugging herself in her waistcoat. “We said we were taking you to one of the greatest places on Earth,” Shoko continues, puffing on her cigarette in her red coat and nylon stockings.
You would’ve thought judging from her outfit, along with the rest of the girls’, that you were going to a nightclub after dinner, which was what the girls originally told you they were taking you to before mentioning taking you to “the greatest place on Earth”. They left you complete in the dark during the car ride here, and now you understand why. “Shoko, one of the greatest places on Earth is Disney World or a spa. Nothing a damn glory hole. Like…I can’t even believe this.”
You press your hands to your temples, rubbing them as if that will help this unbelievable situation process quicker. Mai giggles in between Shoko and her sister in her faux fur coat, her glossy lips curled into a smile. “Believe it, baby,” she chuckles. “We brought you here as a way to show you that we appreciate you. It’s the best Christmas gift we could come up with for you.”
You gape at her. “You seriously couldn’t have came up with something else to get me? Like a bag or even a vacation? This is what you decided on?” You motion to the building, exasperated. “I would’ve even had taken a club hop and dinner, which I thought y’all were taking me to!”
That was the whole reason why you dressed up in your best sexy clothes for tonight: a mini dress that hugs your curves and ass, and makes your skin pop with its bright color (you wanted to catch eyes tonight); nylon stockings that stick to your shapely legs and thick thighs; a push-up bra to show off your breasts to every eligible, sexy guy on the street; rhinestone heels that you can still walk and dance in. You did your hair, letting your braids/twists/coils/curls down to bounce around your face that Mai perfected for you with eyeshadow, blush, and Fenty Gloss to make your plump lips look even more appetizing.
Now you’re getting the feeling that Mai only did your makeup just so it can be ruined in here.
“And we still will!” Shoko protests. “Honey, no way am I giving up on that hibachi dinner. And if you’re still in the mood and got all your energy after this, we can go clubbing. The night is still young, girl!”
“Plus, the clubs don’t open till about 8,” Maki chimes in, hugging herself tight in her black coat. She’s still wearing her glasses despite her eyes coated in dark eyeshadow and sharp eyeliner. “We’ve got an hour till then.” You stare at her, wanting to throw a tantrum. “You’re not supposed to chime into this, Maki,” you groan. “You’re supposed to be the sensible one!”
“She’s the one who had the idea,” Mai giggles. “My sister can be such a slut sometimes.” She bumps her hip with Maki’s, making the long-haired girl blush behind her spectacles. “Stop,” she whines. “And logically speaking, the best cure for winter blues and burnout is sex. It’s scientifically proven.”
You squint at her, not believing a word she says. “Is it though?” you argue. Maki just shrugs, not denying or arguing back. “I mean, how did you even find this place?”
“It’s been here for a hot minute,” Shoko explains. “Plenty of young, tender folks like us venture in and out of here for a quickie. I’ve been going here for the longest ‘cause it makes for a great spot for a no-strings-attached, hot, anonymous sex.” She gives you a wink that makes your stomach churn. “And it’s a reverse glory hole too, meaning you can get your nut as well as give someone else theirs.”
You stare at your friends and then at the blinking neon sign pointing down the staircase like it descends into Hell. You can hardly imagine yourself walking in there in your mini dress and heels, looking all pretty, only to be wrecked by the strangers wandering in and out of the dark that you don’t even know. Let alone their faces! You step away from your friends then, putting your hands out to stop them from coming near you.
“No,” you firmly say. “No way am I going in there. I’d rather go to the club and fuck somebody in the bathroom than do this.”
As soon as you say it, you know that it is the wrong thing to say. Shoko raises a questionable eyebrow at you. “So what’s the difference between fuckin’ a guy in a nightclub bathroom and fuckin’ a guy at a glory hole? Either way, you don’t know the dude!”
You flush embarrassingly, knowing that she’s right. “And each guy that comes in is tested and has background checks, so no weird shit,” Mai adds. “Don’t worry; we’ll show you everything once we get in.” She goes to take your hand, but your hand goes slack, your fingers refusing to interlock with hers. Your stomach is churning like you’re about to vomit and you feel like you can’t breathe despite the frigid air surrounding you. “I'm sorry, girls, but I can’t. I’m gonna take an Uber back and–“
“The hell you are!” Shoko scoffs, glaring at you. “We paid $25 each to get you your own private room for an hour and you’re not about to waste this gift.” Maki huffs exhaustingly, visibly shivering in her coat. “Can we please just get out of the cold? I’m freezing my tits off at this point.”
You look back up at the glory hole sign, biting your lip. “I-I don’t know…” The truth is you do want to go in. You want to throw caution to the wind and experience what the girls are saying will get you out of your rut that has been bugging you since November came and hasn’t left since despite Christmas finally being here and all of that hard work (and money spent) being done. You’ve been working extra hard to rack up for Christmas gifts and save money, which means working extra hours at work and budgeting….even if that meant calling off plans with your friends and staying in.
It has made you extremely stressed and they say that sex is the best stress reliever. And you’ve wanted sex for the longest time. You want nothing more than to feel hands on your body; lips on yours; a thick, throbbing cock filling you up; someone taking care of you the way you can’t. The most you can do is use your fingers and sex toys that you keep close to you in your nightstand, and though it feels good, each orgasm has been feeling more unsatisfying than the last.
You need something more. Something intense. Explosive. You need your hair pulled and your ass spanked. You need your mouth filled as you’re told what a naughty slut and a good girl you are. But the idea of doing this with someone you barely know, let alone multiple men, makes you nervous.
Mai must sense your apprehension because you squeezes your hand tight. “Hey,” she says soothingly. “We know you’re apprehensive and we know you were looking to a normal gift and some food, but we only did this because we know how burnt out you’ve been lately. Every time we see you, you’ve got dark circles under your eyes and you’ve mentioned how you’ve been sleeping less and less.”
“And you cancel plans with us nowadays just to work,” Shoko adds.
“And you’ve mentioned before how you’re not dating,” Maki adds. “So that only adds more stress to you.” Maki eagerly nods. “It’s not good for the body or for her!” She nods down at your thighs and you flush harder, hugging your coat flaps together to hide yourself from review.
You know that they’re right. Dammit, all of them are! You’ve been noticing how haggard you’ve been looking and no kind of creams or vitamins are making it better. Not to mention how irritable you find yourself getting over minor shit, like a stain on your shirt or someone stepping in front of you in a line. While irritating, you find yourself wanting to flash out more and more. It doesn’t feel good, especially now that you know your friends have noticed it too.
Maki squeezes your shoulder comfortingly. “You’ve been working so hard, Y/N, and you deserve a reward for that. What better way to be rewarded than to get fucked by a bunch of sexy guys all at once?” She winks at you, giving you an encouraging smile. “Just trust us. We’d never steer you wrong. You’re going to love this!”
You, once again, gnaw on your bottom lip harshly. “Well…” You look at the sign and the steps again, wondering just what will await you once you venture down those steps. You don’t know what it is, maybe the comfort and encouragement sparkling in your friends’ eyes or the undeniable ache between your thighs, but you find yourself giving in to temptation and accepting their “gift” to you. “Okay,” you sigh. “Let’s go.”
Shoko and Mai let out a loud cheer while Maki sighs in relief, happy to finally be escaping the December cold. Maki hooks your arm through hers while Shoko practically drags to toward the staircase with its iron railing and concrete steps. You carefully step down each in your heels, your heart thundering in your chest the closer to get to the door to the secret club. Once you finally make it down the steps, Shoko knocks on the door thrice, causing a guard to emerge from inside. He eyes each of you curiously yet intimidatingly, towering over each of you.
“Hi, there!” Mai greets, giving him a finger waggle with her manicured nails. “We’re here for the party. Champagne floats.” At this, the guard gives a wordless nod and asks for your IDs to which you show him. Once he sees every single one, he steps away from the door and lets you inside. “Have fun,” he grumbles, humor in his tone despite his rough voice.
“Oh, we will,” Shoko chuckles. “Especially her.” She wraps an arm around you as she guides you inside the building which starts off as a dark hallway only lit by Christmas lights strewn along the walls as decoration, making your journey much more intense…and also exciting. With each click of your heel and your friends’ excited, hushed whispers, you can feel each emotion tighten into a ball inside of you, threatening to explode. When you finally reach the end of the hall, soft music with an R&B twang hits your ear as you come to the front desk where a young woman in a leather dress, piercings, and very nice breasts pushed up purposely high on her chest greets you four. “Welcome to the Underground,” she greets you in a sultry yet kind voice. “First time here?”
“Not for us,” Shoko explains, “but for her, yes. Go easy on this one.” She nudges you, earning a glare and a giggle from your friends. “That’s alright,” the desk clerk giggles. “I’ll show you around and how everything works around here. Just let me look up your name and what room you’ll have tonight.”
After looking up your name and finding your location, that being in the “master room” (whatever the fuck that means), she walks you and your friends down the endless hallway of doors. You believe you hear moans and lewd, wet sounds that remind you of unholy activities, but maybe that’s just your paranoia talking. The clerk brings you to a gorgeous foyer space with carpeted floors, arm chairs and a blazing fireplace. The atmosphere gives you a cozy yet sensual feeling.
“This is what we call the Master Hall,” the clerk explains. “It’s for renters with the most money, which means the rooms come with more complementary items, such as a shower, furniture, and drinks for hydration.” She walks over to one of the many doors surrounding the hall, using a key to unlock it.
“We’re just the peasants tonight,” Shoko whispers, earning giggles from the Zenin sisters.
The door is opened, revealing a beautiful and tasteful booth-like room (big enough to hold three people) that smells of lavender and vanilla. It comes with a shaggy carpet that sits between two armchairs, a loveseat, and a small table littered with mini water bottles, packages snacks, and a small tablet with its cord connected to a wall…a wall littered with holes. It is the same thing on the wall behind you.
Holes for cocks. Holes to fit your legs through for your own pleasure (including a bench for comfort). Holes to present your ass for the customer behind the wall.
You flush at the sight of them, swallowing harshly. It’s so hard not to stare at them, picturing yourself sticking your ass or pussy in one of them. Though lewd and dirty, it is also arousing. You can feel a warm tingle between your inner thighs at the sheer thought of a hot guy coming through, deciding your pussy is pretty enough, and fucking you until you’re a mess.
From here, the clerk shows everything you will need to know about your time here, including what each hole is used for and how to position yourself for comfort. She also gives you a rundown of the number one rule: “Consent is key, so if someone asks you to do something you’re not comfortable with and they refuse to respect your decision or feelings, you contact us immediately on the tablet and they’ll be escorted out.” You nod your head eagerly, putting that away for later. She smiles then, excitedly. “And that’s it! I hope you enjoy yourself, sweetie. Just give me a call if you need anything.” She gives you a wink before walking out of the room in her heels, leaving the door open just a smidge.
You look at the girls for comfort or encouragement, but they’re already heading out to give you your privacy. “We’ll be right next door if you need us, babe,” Mai says as she inches towards the door. You feel your stomach flip with fear at the idea of being left alone in such a strange place. “Wait,” you gasp. “Y’all are leaving me?”
Maki almost looks apologetic but even she doesn’t stop to stay. “Of course!” Shoko cackles. “After all, you’ll need the privacy. Have fun, girl.”
She gives you a wink before she shoos Maki and Mai out the door and closes it behind her, leaving you alone in the clean yet terrifying room with its damned holes. You feel yourself wanting to run out of the room and down the street to call a Lyft to take you home, but how would your friends react to that? They did use their own money for this. To bail now would make you feel guilty…
And also like you’d miss out on something. Something satisfying. Something that may fulfill you if you give it a try. Plus, the idea of the men who come in being checked previously before you “spend time with them” makes you feel even better about the whole situation. To calm yourself as you wait, take advantage of the offered drinks and snacks. As sit down in one of the armchairs and proceed to sip on a beer and chomp down on a bag of chips to push away the nagging anxiety, you hear a ding come from outside your room.
And then a knock along the wall facing you. Your heart nearly falls into your ass and you roughly swallow a chip. ‘One already?’ you think. You haven't even been here for twenty minutes…or have you? You haven’t been looking at the time.
“Hello over there?” a silky voice calls through the wall, startling you. “Anyone in there?” You find your voice failing you, even as the stranger knocks on the wall.
“Cut it out, Satoru,” another silkier yet deeper voice criticizes his partner. “Obviously, someone is there. She must be shy.”
“It’s okay, stranger,” Satoru, which is apparently his name, teasingly says. “We won’t bite…unless you want us to. Come over and introduce yourself. I know there’s a wall here, but still, we’d like to meet you.” You can hear the smile in his voice and the deep chuckle of his friend. Their voices are extremely attractive; the type that belong to two very attractive men. But are you to take on two men at the same time your first time here?
Deciding to throw caution to the wind, you slither off of the chair and crawl towards the two holes in the wall that the two strangers stand at. “Uh…h-hi,” you stutter. “It’s nice to meet you both.” You hear them both lightly laugh at the sound of your voice, making your stomach flip like a schoolgirl with a crush. “Nice to meet you too, cutie,” Satoru chuckles. “First time here, I’m guessing?”
“Does it show?” you sheepishly ask. You each chuckle, the tension ebbed somewhat. “This was a Christmas gift from my friends.” At this, both of them full on laugh. “To a glory hole?” Satoru guffaws. “Guess you really must’ve been needing it then, don’t you think, Suguru?”
His friend, Suguru, hums in agreement. “No shame in that,” he adds. “Sometimes, we all need a stress reliever. We come here just for that. I’m sure you need the same thing if you agreed to be here, right?” His tone has taken on a seductive purr that works on you shockingly well, making you shiver and shudder in delight.
“So you got a name?” Satoru asks randomly. The question is so simple but it startled you all the same. “Satoru,” Suguru growls in warning. “You know names are a forbidden topic here. Don't get us kicked out.”
“It’s okay,” you say abruptly, shocking yourself. “Y/N. My name is Y/N.”
Satoru hums, pleased with your obedience and name. “Cute name,” he comments. “But if you’re not comfortable with us usin’ your name, we can always use pet names. You okay with that?” You swear, you nearly gush in your undies at the mention of pet names. You’re a certified sucker for them. “Uh-huh,” you reply, nervously wriggling your fingers.
Satoru chuckles at your answer, whether out of humor or endearment, you have no idea. “Well, now that we’re all acquainted, do you mind if we fuck your throat for a little while, cutie?” he purrs. Before you can even utter an answer, two cocks are suddenly sliding their way through the two holes facing you. Your eyes widen at them and how big they are. While Satoru is on the thicker side and veinier with a clean cut of white pubic hairs, Suguru is much longer and curves upward, his pubics bare and completely shaven. “Go ahead, baby doll,” he coos. “Pick whoever you want. There’s no rush.”
“And if you pick this loser, just don’t leave me out,” Satoru adds, pouting. “You’ve got a free hand, don't ya, cutie?”
You stare at them for a moment longer, mouth agape and trembling. Can you really do this? Are you about to do this? You don't even know these men and you’re about to give them both blowjobs! You can hardly believe it. But at the same time, you’re relishing it. You feel a thrill shoot through you like being at the top of a rollercoaster before it hits that drop.
You first spit in your hand and rub both together to coat them in your saliva before you wrap them both around both cocks, stroking them up and down, testing out how they feel in your palms. They feel heavy like they could whack you in the face and possibly leave a mark. Soft moans and encouraging grunts leave their lips at the feeling of your soft, little hands stroking them. You become hypnotized by the shiny coat of your spit on their cocks and how your skin tone contrasts with their lighter skin–Satoru is paler while Suguru is a bit tanner.
Finding yourself salivating, you go for the real thrill seeker and lean in towards Suguru’s cock first as he is the longest one and may possibly hit the back of your throat. You wrap your lips around his head and begin to lightly suck him there before going deeper, pushing half of his shaft into your mouth while your hand strokes the other. His loud moan as soon as your wet mouth and tongue wrap around his cock is orgasmic, making that tingle between your inner thighs grow.
“Dammit,” Satoru growls, jealous that his friend gets your mouth before he does. “You lucky bastard.” Suguru begins to thrust his cock slowly into your mouth, sliding it along your tongue. “That’s it, baby doll,” he huffs. “Take me. You’re doing so well so far.” He takes a moment to slide out and slap his cock against your wet tongue before sliding back in, filling your mouth until he lightly hits the back of your throat.
Your throat flexes around him for a moment and you gag, not used to having such a large appendage in your mouth. And so deep! All you can taste and smell is him, his scent a mixture of cologne and lavender soap that seems to make you wetter. The sounds of his enjoyment only make you hornier and you find yourself swallowing his dick whole, ignoring the way your eyes sting with tears. "Fuck, your mouth feels heavenly, baby doll,” he groans. “I wish I could see the pretty face I’m fucking into.”
Satoru peers through the hole where he sees your glossy, plump lips wrapped around his friend’s dick, saliva dripping from your chin. “Just look at those lips!” He growls, almost animalistic. He begins to fuck your hand faster, picturing that it’s your mouth. Or, even better, your tight pussy. “So fuckin’ pretty wrapped around that big cock…we’ve gotta switch, Suguru, or else, I’m killing you.”
Suguru chuckles. “No need to get hostile, sir. Have at her, but don't get greedy.” He pulls out with a soft groan, slipping his cock out of your mouth. You take a moment to catch your breath before switching to Satoru who isn’t that gentle. As soon as he’s inside of your mouth, he is thrusting his entire cock into your throat, stroking the walls of your throat and filling your mouth up with nothing but him. You let out a squeal of protest as he goes too deep, making your gag reflex kick in, but as your throat flexes around him, he shudders with delight and pleasure. “Ohhh, shiiiit!” Satoru hisses. “You were right, man: her mouth is heavenly. God, her little throat is such a good cock sleeve.” He continues to thrust into your mouth, making you take all of it. “C’mon, cutie, take that big dick. Swallow it all like I know you can.”
You know you have a choice to move away, to pop off of his cock and take a breath…but you don’t. You stay on your knees with a pillow underneath you that you snatch off of one of the chairs without tearing your lips away from Satoru’s cock. You suck and gag on him like your life depends on it while stroking Suguru’s cock in time with your sucking until you’re working both cocks like it’s your profession.
As you do, another stranger comes out to the wall on your left where your other free hand lies. “I suppose I was too late for your mouth,” the stranger sighs. “But perhaps you have another hand free, darling?” His voice, calm, deep and coated in honey, makes you shiver.
“Nanami?!” Satoru guffaws, still fucking your mouth. “Oh, shit, you come here too?!” Nanami doesn’t sound too happy about seeing someone here that he knows. “I don’t know you,” he growls. “And you won’t mention this to anyone or else I’ll find you later and kill you myself.”
“I guess everyone needs a Christmas stress reliever,” Suguru chuckles, his voice breathless and strained from constantly fucking your hand like it’s his toy. “You’ll find it with this one. I promise you. She’s a first timer, but she’s so good at what she’s doing.”
Satoru hums in agreement, slipping out to give Suguru another chance at fucking your sloppy throat. “That she is,” he agrees. “You wanna takin three big cocks at the same time, cutie? You don’t have to think about anything except makin’ these cocks cum.”
You find yourself wanting just that: to be nothing but an object for these three men. To be a hole for them to fuck because it pleases you too. You don’t want to think about anything––not Christmas or work or money––but making them bust their loads all over you. So you reach a hand out and grasp Nanami’s cock which is just as veiny and thick as Satoru’s and protrudes from a nest of clean, cut, golden hairs. His shuddery moan makes your stomach flip in excitement, especially when he joins the chorus of moans, grunts, and pleasurable sighs from the duo.
For a while, it’s just the three of them…until it isn’t. Two more men show up, behind the wall facing your back. One of them knocks on the wall, startling you enough to retract your mouth from Suguru’s cock. “Boring,” the stranger grumbles, his voice raspy yet smooth, sending chills up and down your skin. “Don’t tell me you three losers have just been pumping your dicks in her holes and haven’t touched her yet. Amateurs.”
“It’s truly a shame, brother,” the other stranger, his voice softer yet deeper, agrees. “And she’s a pretty little thing from the looks of this photo. I bet that ass and pussy are even prettier. You wanna show us what those losers are missin’ out on, mama? Skunka and I can take care of you.” His voice and the idea of being touched by them tempts you more than you can explain.
“Reaaal good,” Sukuna growls. “You haven’t seen a big dick yet, princess. Choso and I both two. Now get that pussy over here before I lose my patience.”
“That’s no way to talk to this girl!” Satoru criticizes though he has switched places with Suguru again and is now thrusting into your throat until his balls swing against your chin. “This is…fuck, cutie…her first time!”
“Are you sayin’ we don’t have big dicks too?” Suguru asks, sounding irritated with and offended by the statement.
“Ooooh,” Sukuna coos, full-on ignoring Suguru, the sound sending a shiver up your spine. “Even better. Don’t worry; I’ll prep her first. That’s why the lube is here.” Choso chuckles mischievously behind the wall, giving you a sense that they plan to do exactly what they are telling you…and won’t be gentle about it either.
Before you even realize what you’re doing, you are lifting your ass in the air and pressing it into the hole behind you that is big enough to fit your ass cheeks and your pussy into it at the same time. The brothers groan at the sight of your plump ass and wet pussy on display for them, leading Skunk to squirt some lube onto his fingers while Choso lightly glides his fingers over your slit. You can’t help the soft moans that escape you as you continue to blow Satoru and Suguru while stroking Nanami.
“Fuck, what a pretty voice,” Sukuna groans. “I know you’re prettier in person. Just as pretty as this slutty fuckin’ pussy.” He replaces Choso’s fingers and gives your pussy a light slap before gently running his cold, slick fingers over and around your slit. You retract your lips from Satoru's cock, hissing at the sensation. “Shh, mama,” Choso coos, stroking your backside comfortingly. “We won’t hurt you. Sukuna’s just gonna add some fingers, okay?”
You do your best to relax, but nothing can prepare you for Sukuna’s thick fingers sliding inside you. “Fuck!” you moan around Satoru’s cock. The older, pink-haired brother begins to slowly fuck you with his fingers, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts. As he does, lewd sounds of his fingers stroking the inside of your sobbing, wet pussy fill the air along with the famished moans and groans of the men surrounding you (so far).
“Shit,” Satoru hisses. “I can hear how wet you are, cutie. That’s gonna make me fucking cum!” You can tell by how big his cock has gotten inside of your throat and how rough his thrusts have become, fucking your mouth like it’s his own fleshlight. Suguru hums in agreement, also fucking your hand as he swells inside of your palm. “Me too,” he pants. “Lemme fuck her mouth too, Satoru. Don’t be fuckin’ selfish.”
Satoru listens, sliding out of your mouth to give Suguru a chance to fuck it. Your throat has become raw, a slight burning sensation now present from it being constantly fucked and stretched.
“When you two are finish with her, pass her over to me,” Nanami demands, his tone strained and needy. “I can’t be satisfied with just her hand…though you’re doing a great job, darling. Such a good slut for me.” He grunts as he continues to fuck your hand, wet with your saliva and his dripping pre.
Meanwhile, you continue to be finger fucked, stretching out your pussy and helping you accommodate to the digits inside of you. “Good girl,” Sukuna approvingly says. “Takin’ a stranger’s thick fingers so nicely. Mmmm, I’m gonna have fun stretchin’ this hole out the way it needs to be.” He curls his fingers up, drawing a loud whimper out of you that excites your customers. Choso is feening for you, buckling his pants to pull out his hard cock and pumping it in time with his brother’s finger fucking. “C’mon, bro, let me feel her too,” he groans.
Sukuna angrily huffs, not sounding happy with being interrupted. “Then you’d be fuckin’ up my hard work,” he growls. “But you can taste her. Come here and put that tongue in her cunt.” The littlest, dark-haired brother does just that. Your soul practically leaves your body when he begins to suck on your clit while Sukuna continues to finger you, both brothers playing with your pussy.
The immense pleasure you feel makes your body tingle and your mouth form an O-shape as you tear your lips away from Suguru’s dick. “Oh, my God!” you sob at the top of your lungs, causing Satoru and Suguru to quickly reach their end. They love hearing how pathetic and needy you sound as your pussy is eaten and fucked at the same time. How they wish they could see you…touch you… They each begin to fuck their fists to chase their orgasms, pumping their dicks in time with your sweet moans and whimpers.
“Fuck, you’re so fuckin’ hot, cutie,” Satoru moans. “I'm gonna fuckin’ cum on that pretty face of yours.”
“Me too, shit,” Suguru groans. “Take it all, baby doll. Don’t disappoint us, okay?”
Before you can answer, the duo each let out loud, muffled moans from behind the wall as they finally explode, cumming all over your face and cleavage, staining a bit of your dress with their nut. You gasp in surprise at the warmth that splashes across your skin as they cum on your face, ruining your makeup and coating your lips in their cum. Their loud, boisterous moans of pleasure quickly morph into soft sighs and groans as they come down from their orgasmic highs, chuckling slightly as they are sedated for the time being.
“Oooh, I can hear that someone got a facial,” a deep, rumbling, unfamiliar voice chuckles. “Am I too late for the party?” At this rate, you don’t know which wall he’s at.
“Just for her mouth,” Nanami growls. “I’m using it right now. Isn’t that right, darling?” You don’t know what possesses you, but after wiping most of the cum off of your lips and dabbing at your face with the towel provided, you turn your attention to Nanami and latch your lips onto him his cock. He begins thrusting immediately, not giving you any chance to breath or prepare yourself.
Because of his rough thrusting, you accidentally graze his cock with your teeth, earning a sharp inhale. Nanami takes his cock out of your mouth to smack you in the face with it, tapping it onto your cheek. "No teeth, darling,” he huffs. “I was under the impression that you were good at this. Don’t disappoint me.”
“You’d better be careful not to do that unless you want a spanking,” Sukuna chuckles, still fingering you. Choso hums against your clit, the vibrations traveling up to your waist and causing your hips to shimmy uncontrollably in the hole, desperate to push your ass into the sensations. “Oh, an ass wiggle?” Sukuna chuckles darkly. Guess you want one right now.”
Smack! The sharp sound and sensation of a hand coming down hard onto one of your asscheeks makes you wince and let out a gargled moan as Nanami continues to fuck your throat. “Oooh, an I join in on that?” Toji asks, obviously lust quivering in his voice. “Seeing that ass jiggle was just too good. I wanna punish this little slut too.”
“Make that for two,” another unfamiliar, deep yet equally as sexy voice chimes in. Toji laughs in delight. “Damn, that was fast. You finish up with the other little slut you had wrapped around your dick five minutes ago, Shiu?” The stranger–Shiu–scoffs through a chuckle. “More like I didn’t finish at all. Not after seein’ all these horny fucks over here, but now that I got a look at this pretty girl’s photo, I can see why.”
“Be my guest,” Sukuna chortles, delighted with the idea of you being punished by multiple men. “Just don’t have too much fun. Choso and I still gotta make this little slut cum, don’t we, Choso?” The younger brother groans in agreement against your clit as he eagerly sucks and slurps at it. “Actually, bro, take a breather,” Sukuna rumbles. “I wanna taste this whore for myself now.”
So the brothers switch, Sukuna now latching his eager, wet, torturous mouth onto your clit while Choso fingers you, fucking your cunt with slow, upward strokes that glide against your G-spot. The sensations you’re feeling are only heightened by Toji and Shiu spanking your ass repeatedly, the stinging sensations bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Finally, you feel your first orgasm of the night drawing near and you release Nanami’s cock from your mouth to moan out your warning. “Gonna cum!” you whimper. “I’m gonna cum!”
Sukuna growls into your cunt, eager for your cream all over his mouth. “Go ahead, cutie,” Satoru whines, no doubt fucking his hand behind the wall. “Cum on that tongue. God, I wish that were me!” Nanami’s deep moans of need are what lead you to latch your mouth onto his cock again, causing him to thrust desperately into your throat. “Make her cum, brother,” Choso begs. “Make this cute little slut cream all over herself.”
And Sukuna does. With a few quick, skillful flicks of his sinful tongue, you release with a loud moan only muffled by Nanami’s cock. Choso and Sukuna groan at your taste, both now slashing their tongues greedily across your pussy to lap at your juices. “I’m close too,” Nanami grunts, thrusting into your mouth faster, harder. “Gonna cum…gonna cum…fuck!”
He finally cums with a deep groan that makes your stomach flip and your pussy clench excitedly at the sound. His nut coats your tongue and the walls of your mouth, enveloping it in his taste. “Swallow it,” he orders. “Swallow all of my cum.” Though you could simply spit it out and pretend you swallowed it due to the wall, you find yourself obeying him and swallow his cum before exhaling. “Good girl,” he grumbles.
Sukuna moves away from your pussy, as does Choso, and Toji and Shiu cease their assault on your now stinging, tingling ass. “She's all nice n’ wet now,” Sukuna approvingly says. “Perfect for a nice, big cock…with a rubber.” You suddenly feel something much bigger and thicker slide against your sensitive pussy lips and you flinch at the sensations. “Relax, princess,” he cackles. “I’ll go in slow.” And he does, but he still stretches you out once he does. He grabs your lips as he sheathes himself inside you, slowly filling you up.
You gasp and your eyes widen at the sensation, a choked moan leaving your lips. “Fuck, you’re tight!” Sukuna grunts, his nails digging into your hips as his big cock sinks deeper and deeper inside of you, thrusting out before thrusting back in with another inch of him. You know without the orgasm or lube, this would be even more uncomfortable, so you’re grateful for their work.
“Mmm, she sounds tight,” Toji groans. Suddenly, a thicker cock with an angry vein throbbing along the shaft and a red tip dripping in pre-cum slides through a hole beside you on your left. “You’ve got two hands, don’t ya, little girl? Stroke Daddy’s cock too. I paid good money for you.” Another cock slides through its own hole on your right, slightly thicker and girthier than Toji’s. “Me too,” Choso practically begs. “Stroke me too, mama. I need you.”
“Don't forget me, pretty girl,” Shiu chuckles, sliding his dick through his hole to find your mouth. You don’t know what comes over you, but the need to make them feel as good as Sukuna–who moans and grunts through trembling breaths as his hands grip your hips and ass–overcomes you. You spit into your hands before wrapping them around the two cocks on either side of your head and then wrapping your mouth around the one in your face. You are fucked from both ends, so many cocks thrusting into your hands and your holes, turning your body into a living, breathing, moving flesh light.
“Oooh, sounds like someone’s gettin’ fucked,” another customer chuckles from behind one the walls. You can’t tell where anyone is anymore. “Too bad I wasn’t the first one in line for that pussy. There’s always next time though, sugar~”
“You’re just assuming you’ll get her next time, Ino,” a raspy, graveled voice retorts, saying the stranger’s name like it’s a curse word. “Once it’s open, that little kitty is going to be mine…right, kitty? You’ll need some more milk anyway.” Ino hums at the challenge, a smirk in his voice. “We'll see about the, Mahito,” he cackles. You feel as if your brain is about to explode, more because of the fact that there are more cocks to fuck, suck and make cum than because of the ones already fucking you.
Speaking of fucking, Sukuna is the king of it. The friction is sweeter than sweet now, making you grind your hips back into him to meet his rough, ruthless thrusts. His callused hands massage the flesh of your ass and his nails dig into your hips, making you winch slightly, but you love the pain at the same time. You can tell with every thrust that he is getting closer by how fast his hips go, snapping against your ass and making your tits and ass jiggle. “C’mon, Sukuna, get it over with,” Choso whines, impatient.
“Shut up,” his older brother growls. “Don’t…fuck…rush me. She’s so…fuckin’ fuck, princess…tight!”
He goes faster and faster like he’s trying to shove his entire cock into your stomach, pushing and pushing until you can hardly take anymore. You can feel your second orgasm of the night approaching and you moan around Shiu’s cock as spit drips from your lips. “I’m gonna cum!” Sukuna growls. “Take it all, you little slut! Deep in my pussy.”
And you do. You have no choice. When Sukuna bursts inside of you with a loud, primal growl and a string of curse words that would make a nun blush, your mouth forms an O as you feel a warm, wet gush of cum shoot inside you before dripping out of your pussy and down your thighs when he slowly pulls out of you, emitting a weak moan from you. The men on the side where your pussy and ass protrude from the hole in the wall groan at the sight of Skunk’s creampie dripping out of you. “Look at that, Shiu,” Toji comments. “A nice, pretty pussy all for the taking…soon.”
Shiu agrees, gliding a finger over your twitching, overly-sensitive pussy, dragging cum all over your lips. “A nice, used, pretty pussy at that,” he hums. “It only makes sense for such a pretty girl. You want us to fuck you next?” You shudder and shake from the aftermath of Skunk’s rough fuck session, but also from the idea of getting filled and fucked yet again. You can’t speak, your throat too dry and puffs of air leaving your lips in heavy pants.
“I don’t fuckin’ think so,” Mahito says, though sounding chipper. “Turn around, little kitty. I’m gonna fill you up with my milk next and give you what your filthy hole is craving.”
“And who the fuck are you to take my toy away from me?” Toji asks, irritated. “You got a death wish, bitch?”
“Like we weren’t here first,” Satoru argues, just as heated. “If anybody deserves to fuck her next, it’s me and Suguru…and maybe Nanami if he can handle his pussy.” Nanami growls in anger from the insult while Suguru laughs.
“Um…sorry, am I interrupting something?” a deep voice––much deeper than Toji’s––tentatively asks. “I’m here for…” He pauses and gasps at the sight of you. “Fuck, that’s the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen!” he excitedly says. You feel his cock, big, thick, and would absolutely ruin you, slowly slide against your slit, making your breath hitch. “You’re so wet down here, gorgeous,” he sighs through a shuddering breath. “And so tiny, too. I can tell I’m so much bigger than you. Don’t worry though; I’ll take good care of you.”
“And who the fuck are you?” Mahito angrily growls.
“Aoi Todo,” the big, buff, deep-voiced stranger simply responds. “I’m about to fuck this gorgeous pussy here. Who are you?”
“Whoa, whoa, hey!” Ino says, becoming the peacemaker between the horny men outside your booth. “There’s plenty of her to go around. We can all share!”
“Yeah,” Shiu agrees. “C’mon, pretty girl, give us that mouth. I’m sure the others can be satisfied with just your hands for now.”
Once again overtaken by your sluttiness and need, you wrap your lips around Shiu’s cock while Todo and Ino slides themselves into your hands, thrusting into your palms as they moan about how good you are. As you do, Mahito slides into your pussy as he promised, taking your hips and gripping them so hard that you’re sure they’ll leave bruises. He fucks deep into your pussy, filling your walls with nothing but him and thrusting so hard inside of you that his heavy balls slap against your clit, giving your body sparks of pleasure.
You switch between Shiu and Toji, becoming a wet hole for their relentless thrusting into your throat, causing you to gag and slobber so much that your spit drips over your tits and hits the floor. “Such a big girl takin’ two cocks at the same time,” Toji praises you. “At this rate, you’ll be a certified size queen in no time. Take me deeper, little girl.” You do as he says, taking Toji deeper down your throat and bobbing your head while Shiu slaps his dick against the side of your face, wanting more of you.
Mahito’s huffs and pants of breath get louder as he gets closer to his own orgasm, pistoning himself inside you again and again. He begins to babble dirty talk, rasped whines leaving his lips as he lets you know just how good your pussy is. “Slutty little bitch, makin’ me lose it like this…makin’ me fuck you so hard and fast…I’m gonna give you lots of milk now, okay, kitty? Gonna fill you up now…fuck, fuck, fuck!���
He, too, explodes inside of you, filling your pussy with cum. His feral grunts and whines trigger your own orgasm and he shudder around his cock as you cream all over it, squeezing him so much that his body begins to tremble from the sensations. “Oh, my God,” Todo groans, totally losing it at the sight of your pussy dripping with yet another cream pie. “Oooh, nice one,” Ino chuckles. “Though I have noticed that one of her holes hasn’t been filled yet.”
It doesn’t take rocket science to figure out that he means your asshole. “Because of this stupid fuckin’ wall,” Satoru growls. “I’d love to fuck that tight little hole, feel that ass bounce against me…” Sukuna grunts in agreement. “If we lost this wall, she wouldn’t be able to walk for days. I’d fuck that pussy so good that she’d be sore. She couldn’t even walk out of here.”
You can physically feel the arousal radiating off of the men through the holed walls, dozens of cocks oozing pre-cum and balls heavy for you. You smile at each of them, a seductive smile stretching onto your lips as someone––someone sluttier and careless––steps into your skin. “Do whatever you want to me, boys,” you purr. “I’m all yours tonight.”
And then you do something very stupid: you allow them to drop that wall. You unlock the door for them and allow them to enter the booth, two at a time, in shifts, to fuck you silly. And you can’t believe how sexy they all are.
First are Satoru and Nanami, both equally as tall and as sexy with lean muscle, but while Nanami is rocking a blonde undercut and a sharp suit (strange for a trip to a glory hole), Satoru has on a tight black tee and jeans with snow-white hair and blue eyes you know are panty droppers. As soon as the door shuts on you, he gives you a dazzling smile while Nanami’s eyes roam over your semi-naked form. “Hey there, cutie,” he chirps. “Thanks for letting us officially meet you. Now bend the fuck over.”
Before you know it, minutes later, you are bent over the loveseat by Satoru while his tongue lashes at your pussy and clit, his words muffled and mashed by his face in your cunt. “You taste so good, cutie!” he whines into your cunt, but it comes out as, “You tashte sho good, cwutie”. Either way, it makes you grind your hips back into his face and sob into the pillow. Then it’s Nanami’s turn, who does the same thing, only he uses his funny-looking tie to restrict your wrists behind your back, making it so you can’t use your hands to push him away or pull him deeper into you.
After your explosive orgasm into Nanami’s mouth, he places his hand on the small of your back, keeping you in position as he pistons his cock snuggly inside of your pussy while Satoru thrusts into your mouth from the other end. Both men trap you between them, using your holes for their own pleasure. “Nothing teamwork, right, Kenie?” Satoru chuckles breathlessly, his eyes glinting. “At this rate, we can fill this little cutie up at the same time, ya think?”
“Shut up, Satoru,” Nanami growls, one hand gripping your hair back while the other massages your ass. “You’re making me lose focus. Come on, darling, keep clamping down on me. You have one more cock that still needs a turn.” He continues to fuck you, emitting muffled moans and sloppy, wet sounds from your gushing pussy tightening around his cock with every stroke.
Soon, they switch and now it’s Satoru’s turn to finally fuck your insides. He fills you just as Nanami did, smacking your ass and groping your titties, his fingers tweaking your nipples. He leans down as Nanami pounds away into your throat, not even caring about your ruined makeup. The others watch on from behind the walls, desperate for a turn to fuck you in person.
“Such a cute little pussy tightening around that dick,” Satoru coos. “You love bein’ watched, don’t you? Love all this attention like a little attention whore…a good little cum slut. That’s what you are now, cutie. Now take my cum.” Five more thrusts and he explodes with a loud moan that bounces off of the walls as he fills you with his cum. You soon cum with him, your body shuddering and soaring high above the clouds.
“Take my cum too, darling,” Nanami grunts. “Take it all inside you…fuck!” He cums too, filling your mouth to the brim so you have no choice but to swallow again.
Next are Suguru and Sukuna. Like Satoru and Nanami, they are tall and sinewy with hard, lean muscle, but while Suguru has long black hair you want to run your fingers through and a dragon tattoo inked on his muscular back, Sukuna has spiked pink hair, tattoos, and piercings that make you wetter. They each walk with a swagger into the booth, oozing with confidence and sex appeal. It doesn’t take them long to have you on your back and their cocks to be inside you again.
Suguru sits up on his knees, slowly rolling his hips into your mouth, your head turned to the side to accommodate him. “Gently, Sukuna,” he grunts. “Don't wanna break the girl.” Sukuna is practically mounting you, your legs hiked up over his shoulders as he deep dicks you. “Please,” he scoffs. “This slutty girl can take anything we give her, right, princess?” His hand snatches out to grab your throat, squeezing it, and emitting broken gasps from your mouth.
Suguru leans down to press a kiss to your sweaty brow and whisper into your ear while Sukuna nails your G-spot again and again, turning it into mush. “You’re gonna let us fuck you good, right?” he purrs. “You’re gonna trust we can take care of this body and use you until you can’t even move because that’s what you want from us.” His thick fingers find your clit and begins rubbing it between your thighs. “You want us to fuck these tight holes until you’re cumming over and over again.”
Sukuna cums inside you for the second time, giving you yet another creampie that oozes down your thighs, before Suguru leans back and pats his lap for you. “Hop on top, baby doll,” he coos. You slowly do so, your body weak, and he holds you close, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. “Just relax for us, okay?” he whispers. And as you sink down onto his cock, you feel Sukuna’s fingers, slick with spit and lube, gently probe your asshole. “Fuck!” you sob.
You grip Suguru’s shoulders as Sukuna slowly and gently stretches out your asshole, his eyes widen like a kid in a candy store at the way your brown little hole stretches around his fingers. “Good girl, takin’ these fingers in that tight hole,” he chuckles. “Even tighter than that pussy. Such a good fuckin’ slut…a nice toy for us to play with.”
Your hips begin to stutter and you stop fucking Suguru to whine and yelp at the sensations, feeling too much at the same time. Though it doesn’t exactly hurt, you feel too full and it is uncomfortable. "Can’t take it!” you desperately scream. “I can’t…I can’t!” Suguru pauses to shush you, pressing a wet kiss to your lips.“Shh, baby doll,” he whispers. “He’s gonna use your mouth instead while I fuck this pussy till I fill you up. You can handle that, right?”
Sukuna has now pulled his fingers out of your asshole to kneel beside your face, not even waiting to thrust into it. “Stop askin’ her what she can and can’t handle,” he impatiently growls. “This slut doesn’t get a choice, but I wouldn't wanna break my toy, so I’ll just fuck your throat until I cum deep inside it. How’s that, princess?”
And he does. And when he does, Suguru wraps his arms around you and firmly holds you, bucking his hips until into you. “Good girl, good girl,” he repeatedly hums as Sukuna fills your throat with every ounce of his cum. Suguru cums right after, exploding inside of you and filling you up with him until you feel full enough to burst.
Next are Ino and Todo. By this time, you’re an exhausted, cum-filled mess, your dress ripped off and makeup ruined. The only things left on you are your heels and jewelry. Ino waltzes in first, dressed in all black with a beanie drooping over his forehead. He gives you a humored smirk as the sight of you. “Oooh, shit, sugar!” he cackles. “You look so wrecked.” He kneels down to lift your chin up with his thumb. “But you ain’t seen nothin’ yet ‘cause now it’s my turn to have you. And I don’t get to share you either, so I can have you all to myself.”
He presses a wet tongue kiss to your lips, only to be interrupted by Todo. Your eyes widen at how big and buff he is with a scarred face that does nothing to hide his handsome features. Your eyes immediately fall to the bulge he is sporting in his baggy black pants, knowing you’re done for. “Speak for yourself,” he grumbles, cutting his eyes at Ino. “Usually, I don’t like sharing any pretty thing with just anyone, but I can make an exception this one time.” He smiles down at you, a twinkle in his eyes. “You’ve never seen the likes of me, have you, gorgeous?”
And then his pants are down and you decide that no, you haven’t. For Ino either. They both are so much bigger without the glory holes in the way. You can barely lift yourself up off the couch to move and the two don’t try to make you. Ino crawls on top of you and gently slaps his cock against your asscheeks. “You don’t have to do anything, sugar,” he coos. “Just lie there just like that. I’m just gonna get on top of you, slide in and…f-fuck, you’re tight!”
He fucks you prone bone style, completely mounting you as he drives his cock and hips into you, making your ass jiggle and the couch cushions bounce with his every assertive, rough movement. In front of you, you see two heavy balls, thick, muscled thighs, and a thick cock in your line of sight. Your eyes roll up to meet Todo’s who stares down at you with the desperation of a horny, tortured soul.
“Can you pick your head up for me?” he gently asks. He does so for you, lifting your head up with his hand under your chin. “I just need your mouth this time, gorgeous. Don’t worry; you don’t have to do much.” He taps his cock against your plump lips, leaving pre-cum staining them. “Just open up and…f-f-fuck yes!” His grunts and whines fill your ears as his cock slides in and out of your mouth, filling your throat and nostrils with the taste and scent of him.
Ino continues to drill his cock into you, going deeper and deeper with every thrust. “Fuck, your pussy is sweeter than you, sugar,” he groans, then chuckles. “Just kidding. Every part of you is sweet…fuckin’ delicious…” He peels back the hair in your face to see your expression, your eyes glazed over and lost in total ecstasy. “Take it all for me, sugar,” he moans into your ear. “Take all of this dick deep. I know you need it.”
He slides out a few times to fuck his cock between your ass cheeks, hotdogging you and dragging his pre-cum and your juices across your ass crack. He whines as he does this, babbling about how good your ass feels and how much he wants to fuck it.
You realize how much more vocal he and Ino are, how “subby” they sound as they groan and whimper about how tight, wet, and good your holes feel. Ino ends up cumming between your asscheeks, clenching them as he shoots his load across your lower back. You gasp weakly as he does, not expecting it, and you just feel sticky afterward.
Without moving you, the two switch and suddenly, Todo is mounting his big body on top of you, pinning you down with his weight. Though you’re exhausted, the idea of being trapped beneath his muscles excites you and you clench around him as he nails his cock inside of you again and again. “You’re s-so good at this, gorgeous,” he groans. “That pussy is grippin’ me so tightly, shit, shit shit, I’m gonna cum!”
He finally cums too, filling you to the brim with his cum. It oozes out of you freely, dripping down your thighs and around his cock, emitting soft whimpers and moans from the both of you. “Fantastic,” he huffs, kissing your shoulder. “You're at natural at this.”
Choso and Mahito seem to think the same thing when it’s their turn to wreck your shit. When they come in, their arrival is like a dark cloud floating into the room. You know just by looking at them that they’ll fuck you up. Choso is quite attractive with spiked, black hair tied into ponytails, tape on the bridge of his nose, and a pediment, sleepy look in his eyes rimmed in purple. “Damn, mama,” he laughs in disbelief. “You just had five different cocks and you’re still able to function? I’m impressed.”
Mahito is just as hot despite his unruly, long silvery hair and disconcerting smile. He also has the prettiest eyes framed by doll-like lashes, piercings, and tats that cover every inch of his muscular body. “Of course, she’s still functioning,” he argues, looking down at you with nothing but dark, molten lust. “She needs as much milk as she can handle, don’t you, kitty?” When you don’t answer, he yanks roughly on your hair, pulling you up. “Don’t you?” he growls. You hiss at the pain of your scalp being pulled.
“Don’t be so fuckin’ rough, man,” Choso growls, but even he can’t hide the way his cock twitches at the sight of you being yanked around like a rag doll. “Please!” you whine, unsure of what you’re begging for.
Choso leans toward you, his face just inches from yours. “Please what, mama?” he asks. “You want us to fuck you again?” His hand sneaks between your thighs to cup your mound, wet and overused. “It’s okay, we’ll give it to you. Don’t you even worry about it.”
Without another word, he flips you onto your back and crawls on top of you, blocking your view of the ceiling like a handsome eclipse. “Just rest your pretty ass there and let me fuck you, okay?” Then he’s sliding inside of you, your thighs pinned open by his hands. He gives himself time to get used to your tightness, rolling his hips slowly into yours. With every roll, you weakly moan and gasp, too tired to be another louder.
You can’t make any more noise because Mahito is turning your head to slide his dick into your mouth, forcing you to take every inch until his pubic hairs and balls are touching your chin and lips. He stands near the edge of the couch as he fucks your face, glaring at Choso fucking your cunt as he does. “Motherfucker takin’ my spot,” he grumbles. “You’re lucky she looks so enticing right now with how she’s taking your cock.”
Choso smirks as he drives his cock into you a little faster, causing your body to bounce against his cock. One hand shoots out to fondle your breast, rolling your hard nipple with his thumb, as he fucks you stupid, sharp huffs of breath and moans leaving his lips. But no matter how good it feels or how your clit rubs against his pelvis, you can't get any louder.
“So quiet, kitty,” Mahito chuckles. “Must not be fucking you good enough.” He slides his dick out of your throat to smack you in the face with it. “You won’t be able to hide that voice when I’m inside of you. I’ll make sure of it. I like my whores loud.”
“So do I,” Choso grunts. “C’mon, mama, give me that voice.” He slides his wet cock out of you to smack his hand against your clit, bringing a sharp, pleasurable sting that makes your thighs clench. Smack! Smack! “Give it to me!” he repeats, louder this time. “Let me know how good that dick feels fucking you!”
“Please!” you yelp. “Please, I can’t take it! It feels too good!” Happy with that, Choso goes back to fucking you until he spills his cum deep inside you, filling you up so much that Mahito is impressed with the amount…but then it’s his turn. And he makes sure that you feel it. He has you sit up on your knees and presses his cock against the entrance of your ass: the one hole that wasn’t purely fucked. You whimper and gasp as his head presses into you, farther and farther, feeling stretched despite Sukuna’s fingering and the wetness surrounding it.
“Guess nobody stretched this hole out yet,” he tuts. “Well, I’ll change that. I’m just the man to do it.” Before you can protest, he pushes himself farther into your ass. You can’t describe the pain nor the pleasure: it is searing hot and draws the loudest sounds out of you that make Mahito cackle and Choso fuck his semi-hard cock with his hand as he stands before you.
Mahito relishes your wails and the wiggles of your body as you try to get away. “Don’t run from me now, kitty,” he chuckles. “I’m just doin’ what you wanted.” He grips your hips tighter as he roughly fucks your ass, his slow strokes more torturous that fast ones. You can feel all of him stretching out your asshole as his other hand loops underneath you to rub your clit. You can feel your body failing on you, your knees and wrists becoming weak. “Aww, what’s wrong, kitty?” Mahito condescendingly asks. Can you not take anymore cock? Am I being just a little too rough?”
You whine in response, unable to form words. His hand then snatches out to grab your throat, squeezing it. “You should’ve thought about that before you opened the door, you little cock slut. Now you get what you came here for.”
You look up at Choso for rescue, but he is too busy pumping his cock in your face, chasing another orgasm. “Keep lookin’ at me,” he demands. “I want this sexy body and pretty face covered…want her to smell like me. Don’t want anyone else touchin’ her, not even my brother.” When he finally splashes his cum all over your face, Mahito empties his balls deep in your ass, filling you like you’ve never been filled before. You gasp as the feeling, your fingers clenching the pillow below you.
When they finish and leave you in your booth (not without a kiss on your lips from Choso and an ass slap from Mahito), you lay on the couch, spent and exhausted. You think this is the last of your rounds…but you forget about Toji and Shiu. And baby, you haven’t been fucked yet. They make sure you understand the differences between sex with the others and sex with them when the two older men walk into the room.
You weakly look up at them from the couch though you don’t lift your head. They are equally as hot and muscular, their toned muscles pushing against their dark clothes and cocks swinging nakedly out of their flies, veiny and thicker than snicker bars. Toji has a tiny scar at the corner of his devilish smirk, gray eyes the color of rain clouds, and a black mullet. “Last round, little girl,” he chuckles. “Don't worry; we’ll go real slow for you. Won’t we, Shiu?”
Shiu has a sharp, trimmed cut, tanned skin, and a thin mustache over his plump lips. “Mmm, absolutely,” he agrees, “but you’re not leavin’ here till you make us cum.” He kneels down so his face is level with yours, his breath smelling of mint. “And we’re not leavin’ till we make you cum,” he whispers.
Toji kneels down too, stroking a hand over your hair. “Is that understood, slut?” he asks. Weakly, you nod, understanding that you’ve opened Pandora’s box and the only way to close it is to give them exactly what they want. Toji’s smirk grows and he taps his hand lightly against your cheek. “Good.” He stands along with Shiu, their cocks dangling in your face. “Now take these cocks just like we know you can.”
You don’t know what kind of fire lights inside of you, but at the sight of their dicks dangling in front of you for you and you alone, you suddenly get a burst of energy and eagerness to get your hands on them. Minutes later, you are on your knees between them and eagerly sucking and stroking them dry, spitting, slobbering, and gagging all over them. You stare up into their eyes and alternate between stroking their dicks and trailing your hands down their toned stomachs, relishing their muscles and abs under your fingertips.
You welcome the tiny grunts and soft moans Shiu gives as he watches you, astonished at the way you take both cocks. “She’s so eager,” he moans, staring down at you in disbelief. “How is it you’ve had all of these dicks slung inside you already and yet, you’re still going?”
Toji smiles greedily at you, his hand cupping the back of your head as you throat his cock, swallowing it hole as spit dribbles from your lip. “She makes it so easy,” he sighs wistfully. “Makes it so, so easy for me to scoop her up and take her home for my own…my little toy…my little cum slut.” “Keep suckin’, pretty girl. You’re doin’ so well. Don’t stop now. Such a perfect mouth on you~” The praise has you sucking faster, gulping down both of them like the eager cum slut they see you as.
But they don’t cum down your throat. No, they want to make this count. So you find yourself sitting in Shiu’s lap with his cock snuggly inside of you and his hands gripping your hips as you slowly grind your ass back to rub against your clit. Toji sits beside you on the couch, watching you ride Shiu; more specifically, watching the way your ass moves in his lap. “Decided to give that throat a break. Just focus on makin’ my friend cum, okay?” He winks at you, wrapping a hand around his thick cock.
You don’t know what to focus on anymore: the way Toji so intensely stares at you as he fucks his hand or the way Shiu fucks back up into you. He grasps your breasts; your stomach; your ass; anything else he can touch.
“That’s it,” he praises you, his voice strained from the pleasure and your tight walls squeezing him. “Fuck, you’re so fuckin’ tight! I could stay here all day.” And you would let him. The way his thick cock strokes your velvety, inner walls and bumps against your clit is just too good for words to describe. Your eyes flutter shut as moans and gasps leave your lips and echo in the booth, unable to be hidden anymore.
You suddenly feel Toji’s hands on you and his lips sucking at your nipples. “You have the prettiest body, little girl,” he chuckles. “Look at these gorgeous nipples…so hard from these old guys’ dicks.” His teeth graze one of your hard, brown nipples, giving you a spark of pain and pleasure.
“T-Toji,” you whine. It’s the only word you can form. As he continues to work your breasts, Shiu snakes a hand around your throat and lays it there as he drives into you deeper and deeper. “Take more of me, pretty girl,” he groans. “I want to be so deep inside you that you have no choice but to take all of my cum.”
And you don’t. Because when he cums, you feel every inch of his cock swell and then explode inside of you, filling you up. Shiu presses his face into your back as he groans, cumming deep inside of you, and squeezing you like he owns every part of you. As his nut drips out of you and all over the couch, you think that he is all that is left…but you’re forgetting about Toji. When Shiu releases you and gently settles you down on the couch, Toji is more than ready to have his fill of you next.
He leans down to coo at you, a mocking expression on his face that you miss because of your exhaustion. “Tired?” he asks. Weakly, you nod, emitting a laugh from both men. "Aww, don’t worry, little girl. I’ll do all the work for you. Just stay there and be a good slut for me.”
And you do. You physically cannot move. Your limbs feel like jelly and dizziness has taken over. Toji doesn’t mind how sticky with sweat and cum you are. He takes you as you are––on your back with your legs draped over his big, broad shoulders.
His cock drives in and out of you, alternating between fast and slow, his balls slapping against your ass and his pelvis rubbing against your clit with every thrust. Shiu watches on the other end of the couch, lighting himself a cigarette. Your weak moans are drowned out by his loud grunts and the slapping of skin against skin as he fucks you into the couch.
“You like that, little girl?” he grunts, staring down at you with lust-blown eyes. “You like how Daddy fucks this pussy?” His hand, big and veiny, shoots down to grap your throat. He squeezes it as he fucks you, making you gasp. “God, you look so good like that,” he groans. "Keep that pretty mouth open for me, you little slut. I wanna see that tongue when I cum deep inside you.”
He leans down suddenly, pressing his sweaty forehead against yours. “How’s this for a Christmas gift, hm?” he murmurs to you. “Your friends must’ve known how slutty you are to have pulled this off.”
You don’t answer. You can’t. All you can do is weakly moan and whimper as Toji drives you closer and closer to your final orgasm of the night, your clit overstimulated and twitching. “Gonna cum,” you whisper, tears of desperation pricking your eyes.
Toji nods encouragingly, driving his cock faster and faster inside of you. “Cum on this dick, little girl,” he demands. “Give it to me. Give all of it to me, now.” And you do. Your orgasm hits you before you realize it, but all you can let out is a silent gasp as you cream all over Toji’s cock.
He doesn’t stop fucking you, even when your walls squeeze so enticingly around him and your mouth looks so pretty wide open like that that he shoves his fingers inside of it, letting you suck on the digits. His grunts grow louder and more guttural as he gets closer and closer to his orgasm, driving you up against the couch.
“Gonna cum,” he warns. “Gonnacumgonnacumgonna fuckin’ cum!” He yells the last two words before he lets out a deep growl as he sprays his cum deep, deep, deep inside of you, mingling with Shiu’s and all of the other men before him. You gasp at the warm, wet feeling as he orgasms, his large hands gripping your hip and throat as he slowly rolls his hips, chasing his orgasm, before he finally stops. He sighs in satisfaction, drawing his dick out of you and letting his cum drip out of your twitching, used, puffy pussy.
Finally. Finally, they’re done. You don’t think you can go on much longer. But with the way Toji and Shiu are looking at you, you can tell that they still have more plans for you. “Need…rest,” you pant, your eyes fluttering with exhaustion. But Toji tuts, gently scooping you up into his big arms.“Uh-uh, little girl,” he tuts. “You’re not done quite yet. We still need to cover you, don’t we? Make sure you remember this Christmas Eve forever.”
You’re too tired to understand what’s happening at first when Toji carries you away from the couch. But when he lowers you down on the floor near the dozens of glory holes where hard cocks dangle from, you understand exactly what’s happening. So you sit with your knees together and your palms in your lap, face tilted up, eyes closed, and panting mouth open, waiting the loads that you will soon be given. Toji and Shiu stand before you, pumping their dicks in your face, their grunts and moans mingling with the others’ behind the walls.
Finally, with a chorus of moans, whines, groans, and other sex, porn-worthy sounds of climax, every single cock you have taken tonight shoots their loads all over you––your face; your mouth; your tits; your chest; your stomach; even your back and ass. You are completely covered in cum. You are sticky and wet with it, already feeling it dry on your skin and the many different scents staining you like tattoos.
Finally, your men are satisfied and so are you. “Thanks for such a fun night, cutie,” Satoru giggles from behind the wall. “You were so good for us!” You can barely manage to smile.
After Toji and Shiu leave (after making sure you’re not dead and proposing you do this again sometime), you kick off your heels, strip off what is left of your dress, and crawl to the shower where you wash off the sweat, cum, and memories of tonight. The hot water rinses the nut, tears, and makeup off of your face, making you feel brand new. As you step out of the shower, you smell of lavender soap and steam. You are silent as you put on the bathrobe left for you, processing everything that has just happened.
You just visited a glory hole. You just participated in a gang bang. You just fucked multiple men and made them cum.
When you walk out of the bathroom, there is a sudden knock on the door and you startle. “It’s me!” Shoko calls through the door. All of the men are gone, having left earlier to give you privacy and rest. You walk to the door and open it, revealing Shoko with smudged lipstick and a strap from her dress hanging down her shoulder. She definitely enjoyed herself tonight too.
“Hey, you!” she brightly chirps. “Just came to check on you and tell you we’re about to head out. I think our hour is up.”
She looks you up and down in your robe and knowingly smirks to herself. “Sooo how’d you enjoy yourself for your first time at a glory hole?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.
There is only one single thought swimming around in your foggy mind that is still coming down to Earth from cloud nine and above, too busy thinking about what other fine ass men you can meet and delicious things you can experience in this sinful yet glorious place:
“Can we come again next Christmas?”
THE END.
#smutty smut#black fanfic writer#my works#black writers#black coded reader#jjk smut#jjk reader insert#jjk x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#black reader
286 notes
·
View notes
Text
Alastor - [ MASQUERADE PT. 2 ]
xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxxx
A/N: I physically can not refrain from writing smut with angst or implied angst… please forgive me.. ❤️
WARNINGS: [ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ SMUT ] + [ MATURE THEMES ] + [ MALE READER ] + [ SLIGHT ANGST ]
xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxxx
“Would you mind if I came to see you again? I'll be in town by the weekend.” You tried not to smile too hard as the question left your lips, carrying through the telephone’s gentle crackling to resonate to the receiving end clearly, and the man you'd grown to cherish after a few short months of quiet correspondence gave a low response.
“I'll have you all to myself?” Alastor tugged your inquiry along with his own, smirking as you huffed dramatically and no doubt rolled your eyes at his words.
“As always, Al. You know I'm not one for having many friends,” you admit, slumping further into your living room sofa as if to sink through cushions and disappear from the blooming embarrassment you felt hearing him laugh again.
It was your second favorite thing about him. His honest charm was the first, and that had yet to change since the last time you'd enjoyed his company. Exactly six months ago, during your second visit to the City of Jazz, it was fun!
Alastor had essentially filled the void you'd been unable to conceal, keeping you on your toes at every turn and stringing you along in affectionate mind games you knew better than to entertain.
It was difficult not to, though; he knew what to say, what to do with you, and how to handle you. At times, you considered the idea of him being no ordinary man.
Devilish.
That's how you'd describe him to anyone who asked. Alastor was a striking character, able to overshadow your persona with a gentle smile, making you feel very accessible.
You weren't allowed freedom from judgment, public image, and parasocial expectations like every silver screen star was subjected to. Fortunately, you had no obligations with Alastor, no point to prove, and you amounted such casualness to the building of mutual bonding.
He understood fame and its demands.
He understood you…more than most.
Alastor interrupted your wandering thoughts with a witty comment, “Hm, touche, but I suppose I'm the exception.” You scoffed, grinning at the ceiling before making an equally snarky retort.
“Don't sound so full of yourself..” you heard him click his tongue, a sharp sound you wished to hear in person again sooner rather than later.
“But it's the truth, mon cher. Plain and simple.” he concurs, and you shift to sit up straight, reaching for the glass on the coffee table before you, studying the few ounces of liquor before downing the bitter liquid. “Am I welcome or not, Mr. Hartifelt?” You suck your teeth, nose scrunching as the alcohol flushes your veins, promoting your nerves to settle and easing your heart rate as you wait for his answer.
You felt a thrill from just speaking to him. It was beautiful, really, and scandalous to some degree.
Falling for a man you’d met only a handful of times shouldn’t be possible, but here you were, waiting with bated breath to hear his decision to see you again.
Please say yes…just one last time.
Alastor smiled, taking his time to contemplate your offer while leaning back in his desk chair, eyes trained on the intricate soundboard he sat at. He'd grown attached to you in one way or another, unsure if it was pure curiosity or pity on his part. Both reasons hadn't plagued him before your first encounter, and Alastor refused to acknowledge such impractical emotions, reminding himself that you were nothing more than a tag-along for him.
A lonely soul he could very quickly leave behind.
Nothing more. Nothing less.
That's what he forced his conscience to believe, willing itself to envision his compliance to your request as intrigue rather than genuine affection.
“I wouldn't dream of you refusing you, my friend. I look forward to spending time with you soon,” his answer was concise, a brief hint of satisfaction in his tone, and you immediately blurted out a joyous remark of relief.
“Then it’s settled! I’ll see you in two days,” a bright smile stretched across your face as he laughed softly on the other end, “You make it sound as if I’m your only reason for living, my dear.” Alastor shakes his head at his statement, knowing it held truth and proud to know he had such an effect on you.
Am I really that obvious to him?…
A stab of embarrassment hit you square in the heart, a subtle frown replacing your grin as you reflected on the time you’d spent with the radio host. He’d taken you anywhere and everywhere in New Orleans, insisted you join him for dinner on nights he wasn’t broadcasting, and even made an effort to view your recent film. However, he avidly proclaimed his hate for lackluster visual media.
However, he never criticized your films, choosing to compliment your scenes, or congratulating your recent success on his broadcast, as any good friend should do.
You couldn’t recall when Alastor had ever let on he knew of your attraction to him. Yes, he pried at your emotions for the hell of it a few times, but he’d never explicitly acknowledged it.
This was the first time he’d even alluded to such feelings, and your nerves were alert instantly, mind going blank as you navigated your flustered state before murmuring into the phone with a sheepish smile.
“You think very highly of yourself, Alastor..”
“Apologies, my dear. I’m partial to being honest with you. Take it as a form of flattery, if you will.”
His attempt at a modest apology failed, but you had no intention of stamping out his smug nature. Alastor’s blatant confidence was refreshing, and though you wished to keep speaking with him, your evening wasn’t absent of essential events to attend to.
You bid him goodbye with a heavy heart, wishing him a good evening despite knowing he’d put off sleep until the early morning to keep broadcasting as long as possible, and he returned the subtle sentiment before ending the call.
Hours passed, pictures were taken, interviews were conducted, and fans were screaming your name, but the only person on your mind was Alastor.
The following two days felt tortious, a strained waiting game you couldn’t wait to finish, and the second you arrived back in New Orleans and found the time to slip away from your manager, you headed straight for your usual rendezvous spot with the acclaimed radio host.
Club Intime
—- ——- ——- ——- ———
There he was, relaxed in the seclusion of a velvet lounge booth, merely hidden away from the rest of the dimly lit speakeasy. Alastor wasn’t one to socialize unnecessarily. He was content with observing others through the lenses of his round glasses that were beginning to fog up from the fumes of his cigarette, a cold glass half full of whiskey set before him to aid his solitary sedation.
From afar, he looked out of place, cordial, and put together, unlike the rest of the patrons waltzing around. The only unkempt detail about him was the state of his bow tie and collar. He’d undone it the second he sat down, nimble fingers unlacing the stiff ribbon before trying to unbutton his dress shirt's first two clasps. It was a habit he’d yet to avoid after a long evening of work and one you thoroughly enjoyed.
The insignificant results hit just the right nerves, drawing your eyes to his clean-cut features, caramel skin, and hidden scars that he’d once called “unavoidable trophies.” From what or who you weren't sure.
You’d thought to ask him why he felt so highly of his wounds, concerned they’d hit deeper than he let on, but Alastor reassured you through a tight smile your sympathy for him wasn’t needed.
He was a proud man, very sure of himself, and it showed even in a room full of illicit drinkers and rowdy partygoers. Intimidating was the easiest way to describe him, and you felt exactly that way as his hazel eyes settled on you from across the room: intimidated.
You stood at the club's entrance, letting one of the hosts take your coat, but as he asked which table you preferred, you politely declined his offer before looking back at Alastor.
He hadn’t moved, still staring you down with a gentle smile, glasses pushed to the top of his head, and drink in one hand while the cigarette dangled above its rim nestled between two of his fingers.
God, he was beautiful, like a demon straight out of hell.
Alastor tipped his head, signaling you to come his way, and you did with a certain excitement in your eyes. He studied you just the same as you’d done to him, watching your form intently as you snaked through the bustling crowd toward your regular table with him, and by the time you were close enough to call his name, a shameless grin was on your face.
“Al!” You shouted above the drumming music, slipping to sit beside him in the blink of an eye, and he didn’t hesitate to make room for you. “I see you made it to town safely, my dear!” He placed his drink down, taking one last drag from his cigarette before putting it in the liquor. You blushed at the sight of him exhaling the smoke, brown eyes trained on you and an expectant glint in them as he shifted to face you.
“Y-Yes, well, you’ve been an excellent guide the first few times I’ve come here, so I suppose I’m used to the city now.” You smiled at him softly, hoping he’d disregard the stutter in your voice, but knowing him, you were sure he’d caught it very clearly.
Nothing ever got past Alastor.
He hummed, flattered by your praise but more interested in your apparent nervousness. You had yet to act unbothered by him, which amused the radio host.
“Glad to know my assistance was helpful. Do you plan to stay longer this time round?” Alastor rested an arm on the table, chin finding his open palm, and his head now level with yours.
Fuck, I forget how tall he is sometimes…Jesus Christ…
You gulp, blood running hot as his gaze bores into yours, searching for an answer you had yet to give him. It felt hard to breathe for a moment; all you could hear was your heartbeat and the muffled noise of the club.
Why’d he always have to be so close?
Didn’t he know who you were, who he was, what this looked like to other people?
Granted, the onlookers were drunk or too dizzy from dancing to focus on you both.
But the risk of it all, that unmistakable boldness Alastor embodied, had you nervous in all the right ways.
After a beat of silence and staring, you mustered up the courage to give him a response. “Seeing as I have time off from filming, I’ll spend it here. A change of scenery is an actor's best challenge.” You broke eye contact with him, staring into the crowd to keep from fidgeting as he nodded with a low hum, “So, in other words, I won’t be rid of you anytime soon?” Alastor chuckled as you feigned offense at his question, head snapping towards him and a discreet frown on your lips.
“That was quite rude of you to say, Mr. Hartifelt. Especially since I came all the way here to see you…”
A mischievous spark lit up his eyes, smile growing devilish as you glared at him, “Ah, so I am the apple of your eye, mon cher…”
It wasn’t a question.
He didn’t pose the observation as anything else, wanting to bait you into a confession, and he succeeded quicker than you realized.
“No, I did come to experience the city,” you retort flatly, tempted to order a drink and down it to freeze the nerves burning your skin.
Alastor glanced around, assuring no one was invested in your exchange, before dipping his head to whisper in your ear. “Don’t lie to me, cher. I can see it written all over your face, and I must admit it’s a delight to see.” You could practically hear the wicked grin on his lips, sweet and sinister all at once.
Damn. It.
You paled as he pulled back, smirk ever present as he waved a waiter down to order another drink as if he hadn’t reduced you to a fluttery mess beside him.
You sat pin straight, willing to breathe, and on the verge of zoning out completely.
“And what would you like to order, monsieur?” The waiter addressed you, brow raised as you flinched from the sudden question, “I…uh…I-I’ll have the…” you inwardly panicked from the lack of coherent speech left on your tongue, but the building embarrassment dulled as Alastor spoke up for you.
“He’ll have the same as me. Double it and bring the tab as well. Merci.”
“Je vais le faire sortir tout de suite, monsieur. “ The waiter nodded, taking down Alastor’s request quickly before throwing you a strange look and strutting away.
You had to pull it together, or the image you worked so hard for Katina would crumple at one man’s behest, and deep down, you didn’t mind.
It was tiring being perfect, faking your entire personality for the masses's support, and the longer you lingered in Alastor’s company, the more enticing it was just to let it all go.
To drop the mask you wore like an overbearing shroud.
Just once, you’d like to be another person, someone less empty and carnally fulfilled.
One night wouldn’t hurt, right?
You glanced at Alastor, entranced by his lax manner, foot tapping to the swinging melodies and his eyes scanning the room as if searching for prey.
One night with him…wouldn’t be your end, right?
He didn't pretend with you, nor sugar coat his thoughts and actions in hopes of impressing you, and on more than one occasion you both sought some form of imtalcay from the other.
This man had seen what others couldn’t, so why deny yourself a chance at fleeting freedom?
He could pick you apart and put you back together again, and you wouldn’t mind.
So long as Alastor remained the only man to see through you.
One night.
That’s all you asked him for when your drinks arrived, and you were prepared for him to reject your offer, but the sting of refusal never came.
He accepted the arrangement, smile wide, and his eyes hazing over with lust the moment your question reached his ears.
“I thought you’d never ask, cher….”
The night was a whirlwind after that; the tab left on the table tallied to a large sum from the amount of alcohol ordered, and by the end of two hours, you were utterly inebriated.
You met the comfort of your hotel room not long after your time at the hidden bar, stumbling through the door by Alastors lead, laughing softly as his grip on your wrist tightened when you reached behind to close and lock the door.
If you'd seen the malicious edge to his smile as your lips met, you could've sensed danger before it arrived. Maybe if you'd stopped to think properly as clothes were tossed to the floor and his hands met your bare skin, you would've been weary of how cold they felt. Maybe if you'd perceived the rapid pace of your heart as fear for your life and not a side effect of mind-boggling pleasure while he fucked you to the point of tears, you could've vied for safety.
If only you'd seen through his mask, through his glamorous praises, and listless stares…
Maybe you could've survived and tried to fight him, but the rewards of cracking under his pressure rendered such critical thinking useless.
Once. Twice. A third.
Alastor took you from one height of pleasure to the next, forcing whatever bit of raw honesty he could out of you with a series of unforgiving thrusts, swallowing your breathless moans with shallow kisses. He'd never let you utter a word of refusal, using your body to the fullest without a second thought and scarcely sympathetic of how much you could take from him.
At the mercy of your fourth high, you clung to him, nails digging into his scarred back, head tucked into the crook of his neck, and your chest heaving with quiet groans of his name. Alastor could feel the stray tears on your cheeks, melting on his skin, exciting him to no end. “Oh, you poor thing..” he teased you through gritted teeth, biting back a smile as your walls tightened around his cock, another whine rippling your throat at the condensing remark.
“To think so many adore you, and yet here you are…” Alastor pressed his weight down onto you entirely, hands tight on your hips as he deepened his strokes, reaching places inside you that felt almost foreign. You gave up trying to speak, scratching down his back instead as a wordless warning for release, but he didn't let up.
“…showing your true colors to me. I could almost feel sport for you, Cher.” his tone dripped with vague pity, full of satisfaction as he buried himself in you, earning a soft gasp on your part and a fulfilled grown from him.
A warmth enveloped your core as he spilled his cum into you, adding to the amount he'd already so graciously given and triggering your release in seconds.
“Don't want you to feel bad for me..” you huff tiredly, eyes rolling as your cock twitched and leaked between you. Alastor hummed, eyes lowering the sight of skin glossing over with the sticky white fluid, “I pity any soul as desperate as yours, darling…”
“Desperate?” you question him with a lazy smile, ready to correct his comment but failing to as he pulled out of you, leaving you empty and restless.
“Desperate to be loved by any and everyone…” Alastor clarifies, staring at you with a soft smile on his lips as he leans down to graze them over your parted ones.
“Even by a killer like me…”
xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxx
I finally completed this!!!! I'm seriously considering getting an Alastor blanket to curl up in because the stress I've been feeling this week is wild…❤️
Quick side note: do you all realize Alastor would be the most toxic partner in history? Yes, he's sweet, respectful, dashing, and everything else needed to be a surface-level perfect companion. But once you get past all of that, there's not a single aspect of your life Alastor wouldn't control, stalking you, weaving webs of lies to isolate you, using minor signs of affection as a way to keep you close, and buying you gifts to mask all his deep seeded antagonism. He would be your dream man but a total nightmare in one way or another.
[ BONUS CONTENT + ]
Pilot Alsstor was something else I love him so muchhhh ❤️ credit to creator
#Spotify#alastor#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#human alastor#alastor hartfelt#alastor headcanons#hazbin hotel headcanon#alastor smut#hazbin alastor#alastor x oc#alastor x reader#alastor hazbin x reader#alastor the radio demon#alastor fanfiction#alastor human#alastor x male reader#male reader#x male reader#x male y/n#x male smut#hazbin hotel fanfiction#fanfic writing
166 notes
·
View notes
Text
"You didn't know, pt.1"
Pairing: Alastor x fem!OC?? (pulled the name out of a hat honestly)
Warning: mentions of r*pe, detailed murder,
Summary: it was never mentioned as to why Alastor turned to murder. Maybe it could have been because he lost someone important to him? Who knows really?
a/n: I tried my best to stick to Alastor's character and respect his sexuality. If you think this needs any improvement or if you have some kind criticism, please let know! And if this liked enough I'll make a part two! (itsbeentwelveyearssinceihavewrittenanythingpleasebenice)
Spring of 1915
Alastor had been a victim of his mother's matchmaking since he was seventeen. Seven dates have been attempted in 5 years total.
No, he was more focused on his occupation as a writer. What Alastor was truly in love with, the smooth jazz that blessed his ears, to the dancing, the books. He was clearly an art enthusiast. And there was one artist's work he admired more than anything. Lillian Fletcher. She was a high position in a very popular magazine and newspaper. Decided what was trendy and what wasn't. While her job is more in the line of sales, Lillian's colleagues agree to let her put her own articles in them. They get hella cash flow.
Crazy as it is, no one has seen what she looked like. When conferences with celebrities happen, it's like she's there in spirit and the articles just show up in the papers one day. I guess you could say it's what Alastor admired about Lillian, she was obviously a humble woman. Someone who cared about her work as much as he did his. Even more so loved the same things he did.
A special night was approaching, Alastor was going to join the press as a journalist for a conference. Even get to do an interview with the famous guest. It was such a grand occasion, he wore his best suit. A black suit rimmed with red buttons and red seams around the collar and of course a red dress shirt underneath. Took the breath away from most of the women that glanced at him during the little shindig.
"Look at my handsome little man, I'm so proud of you, mon cœur." Alastor's mother beams at him with pride, rubbing her fingers against his cheek. He grabs her hand and guides her to the bar.
"Thanks mama, I'm really glad you get to be here with me tonight. Can't imagine anyone else to spend this night with, I mean that." Her eyes start to swell as tears spill out of them. He chuckles wiping them away with the back of his hand. The lights finally begin to dim and the guest comes out on stage. "It's time mama, I need to join the crowd." Alastor unpockets his pen and pad and walks to the chaos of the press unfolding before him.
2 hours gone by and he gets maybe 3 questions out of him. This guest isn't particularly nice. He's obviously rushing the journalist and being very um.. kind of an asshole with his replies. Then again it was to be expected from this one. It's why he's Alastor first real job after all.
"Can you please answer respectfully for once? Stop being an ass to the people who will write your story one day." Everything goes quiet and all heads turn to the back of the crowd. A woman.
"Who are you to speak to me that way, slut." He says giving her a disdainful expression.
"I apologize sir, I just want to know as to why you treat everyone like garbage."
"Miss.. does your husband know you are here." He scoffs, taken aback by the woman's comment.
"I am not married, sir." Her eyes are stoic, there's no signs of kidding on her face.
"That explains a lot. No one wants a woman with a mouth like that.. anyhow, ma'am I think you are done here. Guards! See to it that this.. woman.. leaves the building." He snaps his fingers calling the guards over.
Everyone in the crowd obviously disgusted by attitude. Who gave her the right to talk to HIM that way. Only one pair of eyes saw her differently than anyone else. Alastor. She was glorious. He has never seen someone so beautiful in AND out like this before. The woman wore a royal blue drop-waist dress made of silk and velvet with beads and tiers. Thick mid length hair pinned up in a bob, in attempt to keep it all in place. Pearls adorned her neck beautifully.
He walked out the building following loosely behind, his hand rubbing the back of his neck briefly.
"Are you alright, miss?" He speaks softly to her, trying to not speak the woman.
"Ah yes, thank you, I apologize for my behavior back there. You didn't have to come after me." She hugs her arms and paces back and forth, irritation clearly visible on her face.
"I believe it was very much needed. He certainly needed to be put in his place. Who better than you." Alastor's lips grew into a soft grin. She stopped pacing finally taking a really good look at him. Handsome, is all she thought. "May I ask for your name?" He bent down grabbing her hand kissing the back of it.
A blush flooded her face from her cheeks to the tips of the ears. "L-Lillian Fletcher... and you are?" He looked up in shock to her response, clearing his throat.
"My name is Alastor. Pleasure to be meeting you. Quite a pleasure indeed!" His smile turned into a starstruck expression. "So you are the Lillian Fletcher that works for the magazine?!" She nodded nervously as Alastor struggled to keep his cool. "I love your articles and sales pitches! It's what inspired me to shoot my shot with an actual job in journalism. I've been writing for as long as I can remember."
"I'm so glad to hear that, my job is my everything. I'm very passionate about it." Her hand hovers over her mouth to hide her giggle.
"Say, Ms. Fletcher, would you like to have dinner with me?" He holds out his arm for her to take as she gladly accepts, wrapping her hand around it with a smile.
"Call me Lili."
Summer of 1917
"How do I look, mama?" Lillian looked at her future mother in law, holding back her tears. Her knuckle grazed under her eyes to keep from ruining the makeup. The dress she wore was an ivory colored low v-neck dress full of lace and the sleeves were nothing but loose tassels. The most gorgeous wedding dress you'd have ever seen. Her hair was neatly curled and pinned up, feathered boa wrapped around her back and arms, elbow length silk gloves, a string of pearls around the neck, and finally a flower crown. Never has someone looked so elegant.
Alastors hands ran through his hair pacing around in the dressing room. No way was this perfect day about to happen for him. He never thought that one day he'd be married. Alastor has always kept to himself, never found anyone attractive enough. He believed the romance life wasn't for him. While it's partly true, he surely was in love deeply. However both agreed that they never wanted children. Never thought they needed to have intimacy to have love. It would be the perfect life with their work, passions and each other of course.
"Ooo honey, you are looking handsome. Can't wait for you to see Lillian. She's glowing." She says letting herself into his room. She walks towards and pulls him down by the collar to fix his bow tie. "My baby boy, finally getting married."
"Thank you mama, for everything. I'll be sure to pass on your jambalaya recipe to her." He snickers, getting a whack in the arm from her.
"Don't start with me now, boy, you're never to old for a whoopin. You hear me?"
-----
The wedding has started in the chapel and everyone takes their seats. Alastor already tearing up from the band playing music. His fingers fidgeting with eachother in front of him. His bride in all her glory walking down the aisle as if she was a star in the sky.
They took each other's hands holding their breaths as the priest gets through his speech. The wedding was very simple and short event. Due to both groom and bride's status, it was best to keep it a secret and only allow close family. Meaning Alastor's mom and their pet black cat.. Lucifer.
"I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your bride." That moment lasted for what felt like forever.
Winter of 1928.
Eleven years have passed, both are 34 years of age and their relationship has nothing but flourished since they were married.
Lillian has retired from her life of writing for the public to devote herself to her husband. It's been peaceful and life has never felt better. Alastor on the other hand was promoted to radio host as soon as they were being sold to consumers. It's one thing to write it all out on paper but another to broadcast his interviews and music live to listeners with similar interests. It was... a thrill to him. He and his wife have became quite the team on radio. She often helps him figure out pitches to his audience to boost it.
"Al dear, don't you think it's time for bed?" Lillian's hands wrapped around his neck and ran down his chest, leaning down enough to place a kiss on his head. "You've been working on next week's interview all day. Time to rest, darling."
He sighs and squeezes her hand before nodding. "Alright mon amour." He stands up dragging his feet to their shared bed, tucking each other in. Lillian stroked his hair in hopes to bring him some comfort. He pulls her into his chest. "I will never love anyone other than you. You are mine for eternity."
-------
"Why haven't you told me about this before?!"
"I just didn't want you to worry about it.. you've got a big show coming up soon."
"Hate to break it to you, darling, but someone stalking you is a lot more important to me than a damn show!" Lillian silenced herself, looking away from Alastor's gaze. "I'm staying home."
"No! You can't! That show is a once in a lifetime opportunity!"
"YOU are my one opportunity! If something happened to you.. I would go Insane." He gripped her shoulders tightly.
"Fine.. Let's make a deal, Al dear. You stay at home all week, but on the day of your show, we take extra precautions to the house and you go. After that you can stay home as much as you want." Lillian says in a serious tone and holds out her hand.
"Deal."
⛧ ⛧ ⛧
The day had finally come and both were feeling nervous. In truth, neither of them wanted Alastor to leave. But with the extra precautions in the house, there was no point in staying home. She was right, this chance will never come again.
The stalker in question had done this sort of thing to several women in the past, many of which had simply gone missing. The ones that were found had been abused and stabbed in the spine causing paralysis, and yes, dead. What a horrific way to die, they both thought. So far there have been 6 victims.
"Are you ready, dear?" Lillian asks helping his coat on. Alastor's expression looking out of place. He was scared and couldn't look her in the eyes, fearing it could be the last time he sees them.
"Are you sure you can't come with me?" He grabs her hand and holds it to his chest. His heart beat a mile a minute.
"You know I'm not allowed there anymore. Or have you forgotten?" She chuckles in attempt to comfort her husband. Obviously not working. Alastor was heartbroken, the only thing he could think of now was to hurry up and get his show done and over with so he can come home. Almost like it wasn't important anymore.
"I've got you a gift." He pulled out a velvet box from his pocket. Lillian took the box and opened it, revealing a locket. 'Mon amour'. She opened it up to see a picture of them on their wedding day. Happy as can be. "No matter what happens know that you are the most important thing in my life." She smiled up at him and gave him a big hug before thanking him. It's beautiful.
"Time to go, my darling." She gives him one last passionate kiss before pushing his butt out the door and locking it. It was cruel to do that however, if it dwelled on it any longer he'd surely break his promise. In reality, she was panicking about being left alone. For good reason...
.
.
.
Alastor's body finally relaxed after 4 hours of his show, it was the most enjoyable one so far. Interviewing the mayor, he was a lot nicer than expected and obviously cared for his people. It wasn't until one of the new journalists came barging in that everything changed.
"Uh oh we've got some breaking news! A new victim of the killer. Our seventh victim is the magazine writer and trend-setter, Lillian Lili?!..." He held his breath as a lump formed in his throat. Immediately getting up, turning on his heels, and hurrying out of the building. His hands were shaking in hopes that she was at the very least still alive. Maybe this was a different situation.
Police and the press had already arrived hours before. Pushing through the crowd, a policeman placed a hand on his chest to keep him at bay.
"Are you Mrs. Lillian's husband?" The policeman asked. Alastor's glared down at the man keeping him away from his wife. "I'm afraid I have to tell you that she was killed. I cannot let you go on further for your own good."
"H-How did this happen.. the house was covered in as many locks as we could find! Wood bolted to the windows and-"
"It was not a break in, sir. He had been living in your cellar for what may have been... a week?." Alastor's color drained from his face. In the cellar? He had locked his wife in there with that criminal?
He pushed past the policeman and ducked under the police tape. No one stopped him in time before he saw the scene unfold in front of him. Just like the other women. She had been assaulted and puddles of blood ran from her back. Alastor drops to his knees and grips his hair, crying hysterically. Something snapped within him. His cries suddenly turned into insane laughter. It appalled everyone. He goes over and picks her up and cradles her lifeless body in his own. The blood staining his clothes.
"You can't do that! This is a crime scene! You can't mess with evidence. It belongs to the police department!" The police officer yelled at him. Alastor said nothing continuing to hold her. He knew what to do..
Winter of 1933
̷̍̇̄̐̂̏͊̒̈́ "Breaking News! We have an update on Paul Benjamin. You know the one serial killer who has had an open case for 20 years. Well.. HE'S DEAD HAHAHAHA!" Alastor beat on his desk laughing before clearing his throat. "I apologize for my outburst, it just about time it happened don't y'all agree?" He said calming down and wiping the tears from his eyes. "I wonder who's next on this antihero's list."
It had been 5 years since Lillian's death. While he is working through the pain, his methods to cope is questionable. Four years ago Alastor had decided he wanted to deal with his wife's murderer himself. A year of following his movements and actions eventually paid off. A new addiction emerged to the surface. How easy it was to pierce human skin, to the screams of misery and pain. It was such an amazing feeling. Why stop there? There are people who deserve the same. Nine monsters.. nine people killed by Alastor's hand. Each deeply researched and carefully chosen.
The walk back home from the studio was peaceful. Nothing could make this night better. Many horrors have been removed from the streets of New Orleans thanks to him. Thankfully he was never suspected in any of them. Alastor was very particularly careful how he handled them. Every single seeming to be an accident or su**ide. To the public, it was almost like a miracle. But to the criminals themselves, they knew. Who was next on this mastermind's list? Paranoia set in to them all.
"Ahh what a day my dear, wish you could be here to see what I've accomplished." His laugh was maniacal. He removed his jacket and put it on the hanger on the door. "You are safe now, my darling. We're getting closer to having a free city of monsters."
"I knew it was you.." a voice whispered to Alastor from behind him, holding a knife to his neck. "The only monster left in this town is you, Al." Alastor stayed quiet and slowly reached for the knife in his vest pocket. "I d-don't want to kill you. I understand why you did it but your wife would not like this. Just submit yourself to the police and I will let you go."
He belted the insane laughter, making the man steadily walk backwards in fear. "Understand? You could never understand." Alastor swiped his finger across the cut on his neck left by the knife, and licking it. "I just enjoy doing it." He swiftly shoved the knife into the man's chest.
"Hmmm.. where to put this one. Ah I got it." Unlike all the others, this one was a surprise bonus to the collection. The only possible place to deal with this one was the forest a few acres behind his home. No one went in due to the stories of crytids and it being haunted. It was perfect.
He grabs the shovel sitting against the treeafter placing the corpse in the hole, filling it up with dirt. Upon hearing voices creeping upon him, he looked over his shoulder briefly just for everything to go dark.
"Uh.. I don't think that was a deer, Bill."
"What?"
Present day in Hell
"Congratulations, your highness. Never doubted you for a second. The hotel is starting to gain attraction. " Alastor bowed to Charlie with his hand on his chest.
"You know damn well you're only here for the entertainment. You even said it was a ridiculous idea." Vaggie tapped her feet and crossing her arms.
"Ah yes well... I apologize. Regardless I'm glad everything worked out this way." He gripped his cane, his static-y voice glitching out a bit.
"Speaking of attraction, don't you think it'd be a good idea to put out more commercials and articles about the hotel. Maybe the sinners will take it seriously this time." Charlie paced back and forth before looking to Alastor.
"Good idea! And I know just the person." The one he referred was a commonly feared overlord. One that could potentially out matched Alastor himself. Maere. The dream demon. His shtick was that he can sneak into nightmares and manipulate humans and sinners to sign away their souls for something as simple as a piece of clothing. A soul for an easily attainable item. Despicable.
All the souls he owns have been known to be abused within his possession. On top of it, he rents them out to customers for whatever they need. Because of his collection of talented souls, he has earned his spot in several companies from technology and fashion to restaurants and sinful services.
Now Alastor does not like dealing with demons like him. He was a murderer but only to those who deserve it or push his buttons. Being acquaintances with Maere was useful at times. In the past he has secretly helped free some of them from the contracts with him. This was not one of those times.
The square of pentagram city, where you will find all the fashion stores and new technology. Anything you may need really, including Maere's headquarters.
"Alastor! Our beloved radio demon. I figured your ass would show up around here at what point, old friend." He rubbed his cigarette between his fingers putting it in the ash tray before standing up to greet him.
"Ah ha ha.. don't call me that. I'm just here to do business." He swiped his dhoulder pad before putting both hands atop his cane. "I'm sure you've heard about princess Charlotte's hotel kicking up attention. I'm here to see if you have any souls that would be perfect in advertising the hotel. Someone who is persuasive and talented with writing."
"Hmmm I may have someone like that. Only if you promise to STOP RELEASING THEM FROM MY CONTRACTS!" He held out his hand in hopes of agreeing on a deal.
"I guess I could.. fine, you've got a deal." He grapped Maere's hand, shaking it. Maere grips his hand and leans closer to Alastor.
"I mean it. You're dead if you do." Alastor's expression stayed composed.
. . . . .
"Let me introduce you to my star saleswoman. She does a lot of the Vees advertisements in tv, newspaper, and magazine. Quite the talented one if I do say so myself. She's good for other things as well if you kbow what I mean." He was quite a cruel 'master'. Every single soul he owned was only allowed to do anything unless they are rented or if he decides to use them. And the way he made sure were restraints on both the face and arms. A metal mask was bolted to behind there heads covering their whole face with matching metal restraints that kept their forearms tight against their backs.
This woman was no different. On the other hand, her clothing was rather elegant. A beautiful evening gown that looked like it'd have been popular in the 1920s. It was a loose-fitting floor length dress that flared at the knees; low v-neck, flowy mesh sleeves. The base of it was red silk while the outside was full of fringe and black lace details. Her hair was black with curls that reached her shoulders, with long ears sticking out the top of her head. Little fluffy tail sticking out the back of her dress, and to top it off were her very long paws. I guess her feet were to big to find shoes for her. A rabbit demon?
"Does this one at the very least have a name?" Alastor questioned Maere. He thought about it before snapping his fingers.
"Ah yes! She is soul 19,281!" He pushed her into Alastor's chest, making her stumble and drop something off around her neck. Maere released her from the restraints letting her scramble for the necklace on the ground. He disappeared letting Alastor do his thing.
"I despise having to do dealings with that demon. Are you alright little lady." Alastor leaned down to grab the necklace for her. A locket? He opened it seeing the inside, having it suddenly be ripped from his hand. It was him and his wife. The two finally gazed up at each other in awe.
"...Lili?"
#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbinhotel#hazbin hotel fanfiction#alastor the radio demon#hazbin hotel#alastor#hazbin hotel fandom#hazbin x reader#alastor imagine#hazbin#alastor x y/n#alastor hazbin#hazbin hotel alastor#the radio demon#alastor fluff#alastor angst
244 notes
·
View notes
Text
Roting Jasmine Flowers and Dead Robins
[Anger management Crime Lord! Jason and a Dark/dark grey Jazz] [warning, murder plots, mentioned character deaths, and other things]
We all know what happened to Danny when he lost everything.
But what if this time it's Jazz.
Jazz who lost everything at the hands of the GIW when she was on a college tour while she was in Gotham, suffering and grieving from the news her parents (who finally started to choose both Danny and her over their projects and are in the know of Danny's halfa status), Sam and Tucker, Dani (who was finally family) and her baby brother, the boy she basically raised had died.
The GIW wants their hands on Fenton Tech but seeing how Jazz is the sole Fenton alive and everything gets put under her name they decide to pull some strings in Gotham, using her breakdown in front of the Dean of the college she had been visiting when the news came to her, to get her sent to Arkham for her 'breakdown'
Once unlawfully placed in Arkham the GIW visit and try blackmail her into signing over rights to her parents inventions and tech and it would be a shame that her family and friends death effected her to the point she'll never be able to leave Arkham because she lost her mind. Basically this alarms Jazz and with some more words she gets the hints that her family and Danny's friends death wasn't an accident.
And the GIW was the reason why.
In anger Jazz goes to attack but is held back my guards and the GIW use this to get Jazz signed as 'insane' and 'unstable' and with some bribing and blackmail gets her tossed completely into Arkham.
....While in Arkham, her rage builds and bubbles.
She wants them dead. All of them. She wants every single one of them, all the GIW, to die by her hands.
But first she needs to prepare. She needs to plan. She can't go in a blind rage.
No.
She was going to make them pay for everything.
She'll make them regret taking everything from her. And tossing her in Arkham was such a foolish thing to do. There are many she can learn from here, even if they don't teach her anything she has been good at observing.
....
A few months later, almost a year, rumors of the newest Crime Alley Crime Lord being sent to Arkham was the fastest rumor being spread in the place.
And teal eyes watched, curiously and gleaming with questions from her cell as the guards dragged a young man around her age to his own cell.
Teal meets blue and for a second both their eyes flashed green.
And for a moment Jazz felt the longing familiar feel of a fellow limenal present.
And Jason feels not alone anymore.
#danny phantom#dp x dc#crossover#blue rambles#writing ideas#random idea#danny phantom dc#dpxdc#jazz fenton#anger management#dark jazz#dark grey Jazz#crime lord Jason#meet cute!... in Arkham#murder plots in this au!#Jazz is biding her time for her revenge#this is Crime Lord Jason not vigilantly Jason#he'll make a deal with Jazz later btw#he likes her mind and plans#loves hows she plotting revenge for her family especially for her siblings#he help her and she'll help him with his own revenge plans
257 notes
·
View notes
Text
saw some posts on this website discussing what sort of videogames the dunmeshi characters would play and i think everyone is wrong. everyone is wrong except for me so im going to spell out exactly who plays what. putting it under a read more because im going on a damn tangent.
Laios: He's not a gamer he does not play games on purpose he will only ever play video games when his friends ask him to join them in their multiplayer things. One day tho Falin told him about Monster Hunter and now thats the only thing he plays aside from Spore and he has sunk countless hours into that damn game. Also he probably has played Some pokemon but he doesnt like PLAYING it he just likes it in concept he knows the name of all the pokemon
marcille: people keep saying she would be a cosy gamer playing animal crossing and stardew and other cute games ^-^ its so lalalaaaa NO!!!!!!! no she does not. Marcille plays games that stress her out on purpose marcille plays overwhelming micromanagey games like lobotomy corporation and rimworld and etc. She also likes games with deep lore and mysteries to discover. The only thing that doesn't fit in this category that she plays is Minecraft shes always in there CREATIVE MODE building virtual dungeons and other crazy shit. Also she plays on her work laptop with trackpad ok
Chilchuck: This one is for me. This one im just basing off my own dad ok. Chilchuck used to be a hardcore gamer in his youth but specifically he was playing stuff like world of warcraft and old school runescape he had really big setups so he could run several instances of the game at once on all his alt accounts so he could beat a boss by himself and he was really good at it. But then he had kids and didnt have time for this sort of thing so he stopped playing videogames aside from occasionally helping his daughters beat a super hard mario level. Later in life he probably discovered some shitty little low-commitment phone game like pokemon go or pikmin bloom or some daily sudoku puzzle thing and he plays it every day but its not that big a deal. He has been pressured by his friends and daughters to make a roblox account but he hasnt played it at all.
Senshi: THIS guy is the one that plays animal crossing. He logs in when he can but hes not on that every day grind. Also he doesnt play the newest one he doesnt play horizons he plays one of the DS ones. Wild world probably. He either doesn't like or doesn't know about the nintendo switch. Whenever one of his villagers say that they want to leave he'll nod solemnly and say smth like "Well... I suppose it'd be selfish to ask ye to stay, friend... Just promise me you'll stay safe and never forget me... Go and explore the world. Wish ye the best." Plus his island would be covered in weeds. He also has some mobile games he enjoys angry birds and candy crush and crosswords (gotta keep the brain in shape!) but other than that he doesn't videogame much because he prefers board games and tabletop stuff he isnt too jazzed about all this modern technology plus a console or a laptop and all that gaming equipment is a lot to lug around and hes a nomad he would NOT have that shit
Falin: Now FALIN is the cosy gamer. kind of. Falin plays animal crossing new horizons sometimes and has fun making a bad island on purpose. Very mildly "bad" tho the worst she'll do is use the drawing feature to hide a giant penis on the beach or whatever. Or she'll give her villagers silly outfits. She also plays minecraft (either skyblock or she makes a new world and explores and builds a couple houses and then forgets about it and makes another new world) and roblox (likes 'trolling' strangers by dressing up funny and acting kind of strange in roleplay servers but she's never actually mean or anything.) But the big thing she likes is story-driven indie rpgmaker games. She's the person who will say shit like "Yeah I played Blums Booglies the quest for Big Dinners and it was so good I cried for 9 hours" completely unironically.
kabru: social gamer like laios but the games he plays on purpose are the sims (he likes to cause them problems) and online multiplayer games (he likes to peoplewatch). I can also see him doing absurd and tortrous challenge runs of games like No items no pokecenter one type hardcore nuzlockes. im correct
izutsumi: ACTUALLY trolls people on roblox. And she plays needlessly gory flash games. Maybe she calls people dumbfucks over valorant voice chat sometimes
83 notes
·
View notes
Photo
I’m replaying Stray and it got me thinking of a DPxStray crossover
Like taking the core themes and setting of Stray, but mashing DP vibes, characters, and ghostliness into it.
Warning: Stray spoilers
So with Stray the whole thing is that it's been hundreds of years in an underground city, all of the humans have died off, and in their place the robots they had as workers have gained sentience and filled the niches people left behind. You, as the little kitty cat, find the last human whose consciousness has been uploaded into a drone that you carry around in your little backpack-- together you're trying to open up the underground city and get to the outside.
So in terms of a crossover, I'd imagine that the construction of the ghost portal and resulting war with the GIW has a disastrous effect on the world. The surface slowly grows less and less habitable, long years of war that are never-ending.
During this time, the Fentons get roped into a project to help build an underground city with a ghost shield-- a last bastion for humanity. It's the least they can do, considering the harm their research caused.
Danny's accident still happened in this scenario, he still fought as Phantom, but he was grievously injured and reverted into his badly-cracked core. His parents think he's long gone, while Jazz holds onto it and keeps him safe, not knowing if he'll ever reform.
Decades pass and the Fentons eventually move into the underground city they helped make. They live in disgrace, knowing they caused the turmoil that tore apart the surface and caused the death of their son. They try to make amends by lending their minds and hands to the city.
When illness ravages the city, they die with regrets.
When Jazz knows her own time is drawing near, she does what she can to keep Danny's core safe as her last act.
She's watched one of the smaller cracks on his core disappear over her lifetime, but Jazz knows she won't live to see her brother made whole again.
Sometimes she can sort of get a sense of him flickering around his core. Feel his emotions. Know he's still there.
Jazz finds some old tech that her parents squirreled away-- even with their many regrets, they were always proud of their research. With it, she builds a container to keep Danny in with filtered ectoplasm, hoping that it will be enough. That someday he'll come back, and that he won't be too upset she's left him behind.
Danny grows stronger over the years, his energy feeding into the technology around him. His (electric) core feeds on it as much as the filtered ectoplasm, and he finds comfort in exploring the network-- the only sense of freedom he's had in a long time.
Hundreds of years later, a little ginger cat finds its way into an underground city. The screens and tech act oddly, guiding the little cat to the backroom of an old apartment where a bright stone floats in a green canister. The cat can feel emotions and thoughts coming off of the thing. It's urged by more than instinct to knock over the container and free the stone inside.
The spectral being that floats out from the stone startles the cat at first, but then the being greets the cat gently and strokes it with a hand that hardly ghosts through the tips of its fur. A friend.
Danny doesn't really know how many years he's spent in this container. His memories are a jumbled mess, his senses addled. He feels like he remembers someone telling him that he needed to survive-- to find his way back out to the surface.
However long Danny's been healing, however, it's still not enough to maintain a fully corporeal body. He's tethered to his core, only able to project his shape for short periods of time before he has to retreat back into it.
He knows he needs to get to the surface to find a steadier source of pure, fresh ectoplasm to help him.
Danny's not really sure if he should trust a cat with what is essentially his head, heart, and soul, but... he doesn't have much of a choice.
In terms of the robots with the crossover, I feel like they could either exist as-is, or they could also be ghostly in nature. Like maybe the people that passed away in the underground city still linger, their ectoplasm imbibing into the circuitry of the robots. I imagine the mass death of the residents in the city could have created a lot of blob ghosts, and that over time maybe those blob ghosts latched onto the robots and became something more substantial.
In terms of the zurks, I imagine that either the Fentons made one last massive mistake, or someone used some of their research (perhaps altering bacteria with ectoplasm) and it had disastrous consequences.
#stray game#stray#danny phantom#danny phantom crossover#dp crossover#DPxStray#dogart#dogposts#stray spoilers
679 notes
·
View notes
Text
prompt generator: person a and person b sharing a bath
content: smut under the cut! - self loving, bathtub shenanigans
characters: artem, fem!reader
Thank god it's the weekend. You leave the office at 7, a feat given all that's gone on this week, and pop your head into Celestine's office to say goodbye, thinking you might swing by Artem's office to try and convince him to leave work with you. Unfortunately, he's in Celestine's office already when you look in, and they seem to be in deep conversation.
"Have a good weekend," Celestine chimes. Artem raises his hand in parting. You look wistfully at him, but decide to head home first.
Artem texts you on your way out.
<Wait for me to have dinner. Shouldn't be too much longer, I'll pick up ingredients on the way back.>
Your heart warms. He probably knew that you were looking forward to your first free weekend in weeks, having barely had the time to spend with each other beyond curling up together, exhausted, in bed each night, and blearily getting ready for work in the mornings.
Another text. <Don't eat too many snacks.> Ugh, this man knows you too well.
When you finally reach the home you share with Artem, you can almost literally feel the ache in your neck and shoulders from hunching over documents and screens, so you decide to run a hot bath. It's almost criminal that neither of you spend much time in this bath, with it's beautiful city views and skyline. But to be fair, you both only moved in together three months ago, and that was round about the time work started to pick up again. You even take out a precious bubble bath solution you've been saving for a special occasion, the scent of lavender and hibiscus foaming up underneath the running water.
As the bath runs, you pop in a record on the vintage player Artem picked up from his parents recently, and both of you have been enjoying going to markets searching for records, your recent favourites being jazz ballads, the crackle and pop of these old records invoking a different time entirely. The music drifts into the bathroom as you turn off the taps, stripping down and stepping gingerly into the bath, fragrant steam wafting into your face.
Oh, this is nice. You fiddle a bit with the water temperature before it's finally perfect, and then you sink in, closing your eyes blissfully.
<Tell me why we don't take baths on a daily basis again? Are you home soon, by the way?> You grab your phone and send to Artem, snapping a picture of your legs, just obscured by the bubbles.
The feel of the water caressing your body and against your tired muscles is soothingly erotic, and you feel a familiar jolt of arousal flowing down your body. Your hands run up and down your soft inner thighs, the arc of your collarbones, luxuriating in the sensation.
Ding! Artem has messaged you back. <Almost home.>
Then, a follow up: <It's not good for our water bill or the environment to take so many baths, but I agree with you that ours is underused.> You laugh. Ever the practical boyfriend.
Still, if he's still on the way, that leaves you free to take care of... some business. Your hands plunge back into the water, stroking your thighs, your breasts, slowly teasing at your nipples to send delicious shivers up your spine. All the while, the water swirls around you, making you even more excited. One hand drifts further downwards, settling onto your clit, and you draw slow, lazy circles around it, letting a slow pressure build up in your core.
The music swells, and you let yourself enjoy each and every sensation, a small moan escaping your mouth and echoing around the bathroom, your back arching slightly as you chase the peak of your pleasure. One of your fingers is just tracing your opening, ready to slip in, when a knock sounds on the bathroom door, and Artem peeks in.
Startled, you sit bolt upright, almost getting a mouthful full of suds.
"Sorry," Artem apologises for startling you. "Just wanted to let you know I'm home, and I'll be making dinner downstairs. Come down when you're ready.
From the crack through the door, you see that his tie has been loosened slightly, hair slightly rumpled from the day. Even though he's interrupted your moment, you can't help but appreciate how much of a goddamn gentleman he is, barely allowing himself a glimpse of you in the bath. Artem is about to close the door when you call for him to wait.
"Come and join me in the bath," you ask. "We did get one that was big enough for two, after all."
The door freezes, and even though you can't see Artem anymore, you can sense he is debating furiously with himself on the other side of the door.
"Please?" you wheedle. "The water is still nice and warm."
When the door next opens, it does so uncertainly, and Artem blushes upon seeing your clothes tossed haphazardly around the bathroom, the bubbles leaving very little to the imagination. It's hardly as if you both haven't seen each other naked before, but you always sense that Artem is holding himself back, too aware of trying to perform the part of gentleman for you, being overly considerate of your needs. Always too afraid to let his eyes linger for too long, or his hands to rest too inappropriately (except in the heat of the moment), afraid that you might think him crude or impolite.
You take charge of the situation. "Clothes off, Mr. Wing. Now."
His hands hesitate at his shirt-buttons, but then he steels his spine and strips off his clothing efficiently, letting you admire the hard planes and lines of his body, so often hidden away behind suits, which, while flatteringly cut, look much better off him. Belt and trousers join the pile on the floor, and you can sense that Artem is itching to refold his clothes nicely instead of leaving them there, so you launch a distraction tactic, rising in the bath so that the tops of your breasts are just visible, watching his eyes drawn to them as the blush in his cheekbones grows higher and higher.
"Should I just - get in?" He stutters. It's so cute to see him embarrassed. He clears his throat, and although he shifts from side to side, you can see his cock twitch slightly, already half-hardening before he's even in the bath. You slide your knees up to make space, and he climbs in, careful not to let the water splash out, although it's dangerously close to doing so, with an extra person in the tub.
It's almost comical to see him curl up so tightly into himself, trying to avoid touching you. Arms hugging his knees as he watches you intently. You stretch your legs out so they just barely graze the sides of your legs.
"Are you really comfortable like that?" You tease, leaning forward and putting your face closer to his. He continues to stare.
"Come on, stretch out." You try to get him to loosen up. "The point of a bath is to relax, after all. No point in getting even more tense, right?"
"You... hm." He conceeds, stretching his limbs out tentatively, but it's an awkward tangle of limbs with you both sitting opposite each other. Then, you have an idea.
"Artem, what if we sat facing the same direction? I could just nestle myself between your legs. That would solve our space issue, and we'd be more comfortable."
He thinks about it. "I don't dislike the idea."
You stand up to spin around, your body covered in suds, and Artem politely averts his eyes a little, face still red, although you're not sure if it's from the steam or embarrassment at this point. You settle down between his legs, gently pressing up against his chest, and give a sigh of contentment. Artem is the best pillow anyone could ask for. As you purr and squirm to find a comfortable position, you feel a distinct hardness growing against your back and stifle a laugh to yourself. Artem's hands settle awkwardly around the curve of your waist, as if he's holding himself back from letting them wander.
"Comfortable?" you tease.
"Hn." He agrees. His cock has grown to full length now, and you can't help but rub yourself against it, feeling him stiffen. You turn your face slightly behind to look at him, and he doesn't dare to meet your eyes.
"You have soap on your face." He says in a matter of fact tone, reaching a hand out to wipe off soap bubbles on your nose very seriously. You giggle in response, then close the gap to kiss him, gently at first, then deepening it, still rubbing yourself slowly against his cock. You slide one of his hands up your body, encouraging him to grab onto your breast, and faced with so much stimulation, Artem loses control and lets out a small moan into your mouth.
That tiny noise is a sudden breaking of the floodgates, and you can almost hear him think, fuck it, as his hands surge up to hold your body closer to his, hips thrusting upwards greedily between the curves of your ass. Panting, you both break apart the kiss, and Artem dives for your neck, licking and sucking the soft skin until you are sure he will leave a bruise. Rolling your nipples between his clever fingers until he draws out a desperate cry from you, the other hand teasing your clit, your entrance, just barely slipping a finger in. You are writhing and completely at his mercy, reaching behind you to stroke his cock.
"Bed?" Artem asks, voice rough with desire. But you can't be bothered with all that now - getting out of the bath, drying yourself, all that nonsense. You want him now.
"I have a better idea," you reply, then turn around so that you are facing him again, sitting on top of him, nestling his cock between your thighs. He makes an attempt to continue with the foreplay, but you stop him.
"I need you, now." you beg him, and like the gentleman he is, he lets you climb on top of him, lining his cock up with your entrance, sliding into your slick warmth. You both cry out at the sensation, taking a few moments to stretch out and get used to the feeling. Then you slide up and down his cock, panting and not caring that the bathwater is sloshing onto the tiles below, probably getting all your clothes wet.
Artem throws his head back, until you can see the line of his throat, his eyes closed in pleasure. His hands are unceasing, moving to play with your breasts, guiding your waist as you plunge again and again on his cock.
An angle hits particularly well for both of you, and Artem opens his eyes, a wild abandon in them. He seizes your hips and thrusts his hips upwards, creating great swells in the water, but hitting that spot again and again until you feel like you are about to explode, begging him not to stop.
"I'm going to cum –!" you cry. "Please don't stop, oh, don't stop Artem!"
His hips drive into you faster and faster until you hit your orgasm, clenching around him. The tightness drives him over the edge, and with a last few thrusts, he follows suit, cock pulsing inside you as he fills you with his cum.
You collapse against his chest, breathing heavily, both locked in an embrace. Artem doesn't let you rest for too long, as he taps your shoulder.
"We'd better get out, or you'll catch a cold."
"Can't you let a girl bask in post-orgasm glory for a few minutes at least?" You complain, although you know he's right - the bathwater has gone cold during the time that you both were otherwise engaged. You peer out at the floor, where half the water seems to have tipped out onto. Artem catches what you're looking at and grabs your shoulders.
"On second thought, wait. Let me grab some towels for the floor, I don't want you to slip." He steps out of the bath and you watch him leave, sighing happily at what a thoughtful boyfriend you have.
#tears of themis#tears of themis smut#artem wing#artem wing smut#tot smut#artem wing x reader#artem smut#artem x reader#tears of themis imagines#tot imagines#how tf did this end up as almost 2k words of smut??
340 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hazbin Hotel Beach Trip! Headcanons ;)
Characters: Charlie, Vaggie, Alastor, Angeldust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Vox, Lucifer, Adam, and Cherri Bomb
A/N: Y'all guess who's already ready for summer to start? These are gonna be my first headcanons, I had so much fun creating them, enjoy <3
Charlie 🐐🫶
The optimistic Princess of Hell loooves going to the beach
Growing up in the sweltering armpit of Hell has caused her to love the heat, but also crave the refreshing coolness of the salty ocean
Has so much fun slashing in the waves and dragging a resistant Vaggie into the water with her
“Come on Vaggie, it will be so FUUNNNNN, ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh”
Brings all sorts of fun toys and trinkets to play with at the beach
Volleyball, beachball, speaker, sand castle buckets and shovels, floaties, and a surf board
Is currently struggling to learn how to surf, but is determined to get good at it
Wears the most extravagant, tropical, neon pink swimsuit
Would definitely start an epic game of Marco Polo with the others
Her competitive nature would cause the game to escalate quickly into a war-like battle
Will be in a good mood for the next couple of days because she is so grateful that she can go to the beach with her friends and experience this mini vacation
Vaggie ❌🥀
Vaggie is very much like a cat in water, she is practically hydrophobic
Has a thick layer of sunscreen, the largest sunglasses and sun hat, and will only stay underneath an umbrella
Stands in the sand with her arms cross refusing to get even a drop of water on her
Is wearing one of those scuba gear under suits, all black stretching down her arms and legs so that if water does get on her it doesn’t actually touch her skin
If someone tries to drag her into the ocean, the ex-angel grounds her feet into the sand, taking a battle stance, and threatens to gouge out their eyes
Unlessss it’s Charlie
For Charlie she will do anything
Despite her disdain for the water, watching Charlie have fun splashing in the waves causes a slight smile to form on her face, cracking her previous resting bitch face
Will go as far as to build sand castles and catch tiny crabs for Charlie so that she can please her
Tries helping her learn how to surf but is also is terrible at it
Alastor 🦌📻
Alastor originally said he wasn’t going to go on this beach trip, yet somehow was found already lying on a beach chair by the time everyone arrived at the beach
Is wearing a Hawaiian T-shirt and red trunks
Brought a mini radio to drown out Charlie’s obnoxiously loud speaker, although ends up being isolated since no one else wants to listen to his old-time corny jazz music
Even though it’s lowkey a vibe
Actually prefers to have this new 50 feet radius of isolation, although Vox sometimes will sneak up on him to kick sand at him
Goes full on Radio Demon mode causing Vox to freeze in fear and slowly back up back to the rest of the group
Doesn’t go into the water and instead spends his time sunbathing to brainstorm evil masterplans like taking over Hell and ruining Vox’s life
Will send his shadows to go check up on the others’ beach adventures but will stick to himself
Also uses this time to practice his singing, specifically to the song “We’ll Meet Again”
Angeldust 🕷️❤️🔥
Definitely is using his relaxation time to show off his new, sexy, hot pink thong
Is matching with Cherri and they’re serving cunt
Lies down on the towel in promiscuous poses to catch a certain grey cat’s eyes
Dances and makes choreographies with Cherri and Nifty to Charlie’s music
Snuck alcohol and drugs in that Charlie had to take away for the sake of “One normal vacation trip!”
“Aw come awn Charlie, a little fun never hurt no one”
Charlie does not buy this and refuses to let Angel turn this beach trip into something else
Walks along the beach shore to flirt with other beach goers and ends being a cheerleader for some hot hunks playing volleyball
Is dragged back to Charlie and the others by a very annoyed Husk
Husk 🐈⬛����
Being a cat, obviously is not a huge fan of the water
Really only went for the company of a certain spider
Keeps his eye on him underneath his dark sunglasses, making sure Angeldust doesn’t get into some serious trouble
Was the one who helped Angeldust sneak the alcohol in and argues with Charlie that she can’t take away the alcohol because it’s his
“Charlie I swear to Satan, you better not throw away my supply of alcohol that’s for the hotel” “Then why would you bring it here?” Husk is left dumbfounded and ends up chugging it all down ignoring Charlie’s protests
Drunk Husk tries to play volleyball with the others, ends up stumbling around and falls into the sand after being hit in the face with the ball
Drunk Husk also exposes his jealous nature and after he sees Angel flirting with the hunks he stomps over to drag a whiney Angel back
Sir Pentious 🐍🥚
Treats this trip as if it was a super important team mission, checking up constantly on the others and not resting until everything is perfect
Came to the beach in his blue soldier blazer and refuses to take it off even when swimming in case “a violent battle commences!”
Being a cold-blooded reptile, he ends up sunbathing for hours straight up raw: no sunscreen, no sunglasses, no umbrella or tent, bro is NOT afraid of a little sun
But is very much afraid of his Egg Bois boiling in the sun so as a precaution prior to the trip he engineered a clear cooler to fill with cold water that can drive around the beach kind of like a space rover
“My neeeeww invention called the Ultimate 360 Beach Sssimulator! allowsss for my Egg Boiss to sssee through the plexiglass walls and ssee their ssurroundings while sstimulating the wavessss of the ocean with cold water and hydro jetss! As well, there isss a waterproof joystick inside sso that they may maneuver wherever they pleasse!” “Thanks boss! I feel so relaxed and refreshed!” “Anything for my preciousss babiesss”
Can rest now that his Egg Bois are guaranteed to not cook in the sun
Being a snake he thinks it’s fun to pretend to be an electric eel and play pranks on the others
Specifically on Cherri
Until she decides to absolutely obliterate him and stomped on him slithering through the water
It hurt but he lowkey was into it 😉
Vox ⚡️📺
The beach is not exactly Vox’s thing, and no one understand why he tagged along on this beach trip
Being an actual TV, he begins to overheat and his screen starts glitching and flashing random colors (uh oh the TV’s buffering!)
He also can’t be in the water… because he is a LITERAL TV
This is the one time he feels insecure about himself because he is unable to do practically anything at the beach
Put on sunscreen? No, that would mess up his hardwire. Build sandcastles? No, the sand would clog up his cracks. Play volleyball? No, the ball might crack his screen.
At least he looked good, he specifically bought holographic trunks, although he only wore them for 20 minutes because had to leave early
Was so glad to be back in air conditioning and far away from any large body of water
Lucifer 🪽🐤
The King of Hell acts like the most stereotypical tourist at this tropical beach, my god
Is of course wearing a bright red and orange Hawaiian t-shirt with a pink lei hanging around his neck, and came with a digital camera to take photos of the whole experience
“We’re going to remember this forever! Everyone say Satan!” 📸
Brought a bunch of his rubber duckies to float with him in the ocean
This white as hell angel needs a whole three inch layer of sunscreen all over his body, and brought a whole ass tent which he magically set up in a flash with his “pure angelic poweeer”
Was the most excited to go on this trip and is already freaking out over the fact that there’s a snow cone truck by the shore
“I want to get a large one with Tiger’s Blood and watermelon syrup and—oh Charlie, look, they have a piña colada flavor too!”
It’s obvious Charlie gets her optimism from her father
Is running around the beach trying to do everything he could in the time that they had
Adam 🎸🤘
The first man is definitely living out his hot dilf summer
Brought beer and ends up hanging out with those hunks Angeldust was flirting with earlier
Has a cap on backwards, sunglasses, typical frat guy look, but is honestly looking pretty rad
Blaring rock from his boombox he dragged all the way to the beach
“LET’S PARTYYY!! WOOHOOOO”
Brought some fishing lines as well to catch fish with his fellow “bros” just for him to slack off and accidently have his line get snatched into the ocean by some strong fish
Could care less and is only here for a good time
Cherri Bomb 🍒💣
The bad ass Aussie sure knows how to have some fun at a beach
Has lots of practice back in Australia surfing, so is obviously a boss at this and throws her bombs in the ocean to create the most massive waves to ride on
Literally so cool, although she ends up nearly drowning everyone and it was at this point that Vox decided to leave
Is matching with Angeldust with her hot pink cunty bikini
Helped sneak in Angel’s flasks and stashed some drugs by hiding them inside her swimsuit bra
Is crazy energetic, has so much energy throughout this entire trip, that even afterwards on the car ride home she is belting songs at the top of her lungs
Yet when they arrive back at the hotel she is the first to pass out on the sofa
#hazbin charlie#hazbin husk#hazbin angel dust#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel#hazbin art#hazbin lucifer#hazbin hotel edit#hazbin hotel fanart#vivziepop#radio killed the video star#huskerdust#angel dust x husk#husker hazbin hotel#angel dust#charlie morningstar#vaggie#lucifer morningstar#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer hazbin hotel#cherri bomb#cherri hazbin hotel#sir pentious#headcanon#beach#beachlife#beach babe#beach time#beach theme#surfing
84 notes
·
View notes
Note
For the prompt ask game!
9. Sleep deprivation and/or 37. Secret Relationship and/or 40. Identity reveal/major secret reveal
(I selected a few so you can chose the one that resonates the most.)
For any DPxDC characters. <3
*emerges from a google docs, covered in blood and panting* i did it... it is done.
thank you for the prompt!! because i love a challenge, or because i can't stop myself, i went and did all of them!! for everyone!! everyone is sleep deprived and everyone is revealing secrets ^^'
Danny/Tim, mentioned Jazz/Jason
(๑•́ ₃ •̀๑) enjoy!! prompt ask game
kid napping
“Red Robin, sound off. Status?”
“All good here, Oracle. Everything okay?”
It’s been a slow night, never a good sign. Pent up energy itches under his skin and he stretches when he stands, preparing for whatever Oracle is going to throw his way. It’s going to be something, he can tell.
“Good.” Relief briefly colours her voice answers, before she becomes serious again, keys clacking away in the background. “There’s been a report from Agent A. It appears that one Timothy Drake has been kidnapped and is being ransomed for five million dollars and a helicopter. I’m tracing the call now.”
“A helicopter, too? Kidnappers these days, used to be they just wanted their money and that would be the end of it… a fucking helicopter, wow.” Red Hood scoffs, and Red Robin can’t help but join in the laughter over the comms.
“Doesn’t exactly sound like these are the brightest tools in the shed now, does it, Hood? Wonder what poor schmuck they’ve got instead.” Nightwing says, slightly out of breath.
The smile slips off Red Robin’s face and clammy, cold dread shivers down his spine. A stone settles in his stomach. He wets his lips and clears his throat. “Oracle, can you pull up the CCTV on my apartment near WE? Any closer to tracing the call?”
“Still on the trace, they’re using a jammer. Agent A is cooperating so they should phone back soon, which will help.” she reports, falling into silence as he finds the video feed.
“You know who it is?”
“I hope not.”
It’s tense, he taps his feet on the rooftop, fingers tightening over his grapple as he fights the urge to fly off the roof and check for himself. It better not be him. Please, dear God, don’t let it not be him.
“What are you thinking, Red Robin?” Batman growls through the comms. Red Robin can hear the wind under his words, whipping fast as he no doubt makes his way over to his position.
“I had a, uh, a friend coming over tonight. From behind, he… he could be mistaken for Tim Drake.”
The jokes fall silent, the comms growing serious as they pick up on his tone.
“Well, fuck.”
“Eloquent as always, Hood.”
“Shut up, bat-brat.”
“You were right, Red Robin, it looks like it was your… friend they caught, instead. About two hours before the call came in. I’m following their van now, I should have the destination soon. In the meantime, it looks like they’re heading towards the docks.”
Red Robin throws himself off the building, shooting his grapple as low as he dares to get the fastest swing he can.
They have Danny.
Worry gnaws at his gut even as gravity pulls it into his throat with another swing.
Danny is… And Red Robin means this in the nicest way possible, but Danny is fragile. They haven’t talked about it, but RR knows that Danny has health problems. Something plaguing him since he was young, that’s landed him in the hospital more than once. A weak heart, far too slow to be normal, possibly chronic fatigue—he’s always so tired, falling asleep anywhere he can.
Sometimes, he doesn’t even need to put his head down. Once, when they had gone to the corner store to get some popcorn to enjoy their movie (which Danny had explicitly and repeatedly promised he wouldn’t snore through this time), Danny had rested his head on Tim’s shoulder while they were waiting and he’d just… gone. On his feet, asleep, just like that.
He’d laughed, when Tim woke him up. Apologised. Said Tim made him feel safe enough to fall asleep just about anywhere and—
Red Robin grits his teeth and corrects his course as Oracle updates them with more precise coordinates.
Tim had carried him home that night, piggy-back for four blocks, but by the end of it, he wasn’t tired at all. And that’s another thing, Danny’s just so light. It’s concerning.
They never did watch that movie, but it’s a night that Tim can’t help remembering fondly all the same. They’d ended up rewatching some old sitcom that Danny’s seen countless times but Tim’s never really bothered with, Danny drifting off to sleep again and Tim eventually following him, because… sleep is easy with Danny.
It’s the same for him, he thinks. He can’t explain it, but he feels safe enough to sleep with Danny, too.
He needs to be alright.
“So… Is this friend just a friend? Or a friend friend?”
“A friend, Nightwing. Now hurry up.”
He’s not in the mood to play these games, not now. There’s a reason why none of them know about Danny, and this is one of them. His family, as much as he loves them, are just too damn nosey for their own good.
“You know that doesn’t answer my question at all.”
“Then why don’t you ask something intelligible, rather than continue with your childish antics?” Robin snarks, and for once, Red Robin has to agree with him. Or, rather, he’s grateful for the distraction that it gives him.
Tim has secrets. He’s sure that Danny does, too, and so far—aside from the standard background check he always runs on new friends and friend friends alike—he’s done very well to respect them. He just can’t say that his family would do the same.
They can be overwhelming, to say the least, and Tim has tried his best to protect Danny from that.
Only to fail to protect him in every other way that it counts.
“How long have you guys been ‘friends’?”
“Nightwing, save it, please.”
“What’s his name?”
He ignores him.
Red Robin lands on the building first, thank goodness. He wastes no time in finding a skylight that can be pried open fairly quietly, slipping inside without a second thought.
“Wait for backup, Red Robin, that is an order!” Batman says, when he lets them know he’s in.
“Negative, Batman. I’m getting him back.”
“Red Robin!”
He weaves silently through the desks on the second floor of the warehouse, always moving, always keeping a trained eye on the shadows around him.
When he reaches the stairs, he hears voices.
“Looks like three of them, armed. The-the hostage is tied to a chair in the middle of the room, he…” Red Robin takes a steadying breath. The person has a burlap sack over their head is slumped to the side, from where he is, Red Robin can’t see if his chest is moving. There’s blood on the floor. “He needs medical assistance. Another two on the northside entrance.”
The comms explode in admonitions, everyone pleading with him to stay where he is, to wait for help, but fuck that. With a tap, he switches them off and he can finally, just about make out the words of the kidnappers as he creeps down the first few steps.
“—shouldn’t he have woken up by now?”
“I don’t know, man, you’re the one that hit him! Do you think he’s—”
“No! I didn’t even hit him that hard, I swear!” the man cries, holding his hands up in surrender. “I just couldn’t take any more of his stupid jokes!”
If there was any doubt in Red Robin’s mind that they picked up Danny by mistake, it’s gone now. Yeah. If you get Danny, you get his stupid jokes, too.
He creeps closer.
There’s some storage crates between him and Danny, if he can get behind there without being seen then that leaves him in a good position for when whoever’s next in takes out the guys at the front. He can’t do anything without them gone first, not without risking them taking shots inside and endangering Danny.
The man that hit Danny circles round behind him and grabs at his hands.
“What are you even doing, Pat? Who gives a shit, leave him alone.”
“I’m just checking! I just gotta see!”
“Fuck’s sake, guys, who cares? We just gotta get our money, that’s it—”
“And our helicopter!”
“And our—”
“Shit, I can’t find a pulse! Shit, Frank, I killed him, I—”
Jason told him once that when the Pits overtook him, he used to see green. Instead of blacking out, he’d be swimming in that putrid Lazarus colour and he’d slip into that rage and bad things would happen.
He’s heard of people seeing red, too, but really, he thinks that’s more of a literary device.
Tim doesn’t see anything aside from his targets.
A barrage of birdarangs take the guns from the guys at the front, the three around Danny startling badly enough that the guy that kil—that’s behind Danny—stumbles, losing his footing.
Only one of them shoots.
Amateurs.
There’s a round of curses on the comms as the shots come through. Oracle must have turned them back on.
“Fucking hell—Nightwing and I are at the front, Red Robin, don’t worry about them.”
Red Robin’s barely listening.
He spins, kicking the largest guy in the stomach hard enough so that he doubles over, wheezing. Following through the movement, another kick lands on the side of his head and he’s down.
The second one, Frank, gets his wits about him and raises his gun, spraying wildly. He’s a shit shot, going wide in panic, and Red Robin simply ducks and rushes forward, keeping low. Tackling the guy, he grabs the gun off of him and uses it to smash him across the face, once, twice, three times, before he stops moving.
“Oracle, get police and paramedics on scene, now.” Batman says, the displeasure in his voice evident. “Red Robin, Robin and I are coming in from the top.”
Pat hasn’t even made it up off the floor yet, scrambling backwards, fear plain on his face.
Red Robin stands, breathing heavily, gun still in hand.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to do it! Please—please, don’t, please!”
Red Robin doesn’t kill.
Well, no, Red Robin doesn’t normally kill.
No, that’s not quite right, either.
Red Robin has killed. Red Robin will more than likely kill again. Red Robin sees no problem with killing.
The gun is up, pointing towards the guy without any real thought about it.
Footsteps rush behind him, the familiar heavy footfalls of Batman and Robin, so he doesn’t bother turning around. The gun follows the guy as he keeps pulling himself backwards, snot and tears mingling down his face.
“Red Robin,” Batman says, softly.
It’s always weird hearing Batman’s voice like that. It’s not the first time, obviously—Batman can’t use his scary intimidating voice on victims or children, after all—but having it used on him is weird.
“Breathe.”
“He’s dead. They killed him.”
If hearing Batman’s voice was weird, Red Robin can’t even recognise his own.
Distantly, he realises he’s dissociating. There’s a tightness in his chest, it’s hard to breathe, a growing buzz drowns out any noise in his ears and he can’t think, he can’t—
A heavy hand squeezes his shoulder, jolting him out of his thoughts. Batman reaches around and gently removes the gun from his grip, and Tim feels the instant loss of it. He should have done it, why hadn’t he done it?
Robin takes care of the last man, his crying cut off by a swift kick to the head. Nightwing and Red Hood join them, zip-tying the men on the floor and starting to drag them back to the entrance of the warehouse one by one.
No one says a word.
Shrugging off Batman’s hand, Tim moves towards the chair.
Shaking, he takes a deep breath and removes the sack. The small part of him that was left hoping it wasn’t him, it couldn’t be him, please dear God let it not be him, shatters.
Even dead, he looks peaceful.
Tim’s seen death. He’s no stranger to it, he’s seen what it can do to a person. There’s some blood coagulating over his eyebrows, but otherwise, he looks peaceful. Is that comforting? That he didn’t suffer?
Danny’s head lolls to the side as the sack comes completely away, his hair flopping over his eyes. Tim’s been on at him to get a haircut lately, he thinks it’ll be nice tidied up a bit, just on the sides. It’ll get rid of that permanent bedhead. Help him with job interviews, he’s got to be thinking about that now that he’s in his last year of college.
It’s about the only thing that’ll hold him back, Tim thinks. Danny’s brilliant. Any employer would be a fool to turn him down because of his shaggy hair, but employers are stupid so it makes sense to put your best foot forward and—
Tim falls to his knees.
Fuck.
He’s dead, he’s really—Danny’s skin is horribly pale, cold to the touch. Gone is his bright, cheerful smile.
“Danny, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, I—”
He stops himself with a deep, shuddering breath. He can’t break down here, he can’t, he can’t, he can’t.
Instead, he tips forward to rest his head in Danny’s lap, arms curling around himself. They were too late. They got here as fast as they could and they were too late.
“Danny, I’m so sorry…” he whispers. “I… I love you, I love you, I’m sorry.”
Dimly, he can feel the others standing around them. Someone crouches down beside him, resting a comforting arm over his back, but he doesn’t turn his head to see who it is. He squeezes his grip on Danny’s legs tighter.
“Come on, baby bird. Let’s—”
They’re interrupted by a huge, honking snore as Danny jerks himself awake.
Tim’s head snaps up, staring at Danny with wide eyes.
“You were asleep?” Red Robin springs up, several different emotions rapidly flip flopping through him.
“Wha… What?” Danny heaves a yawn, blinking blearily down at him. “Sorry, I’m just… they were shit kidnappers, man, really boring. Honestly, worst abduction yet.”
“You were asleep? I thought you were dead!”
“Not mutually exlusive, you know.” Danny says through another yawn. He rolls his neck around with an almighty crack and glances at everyone. “Didn’t think I’d warrant the whole Bat brigade, though…”
“The kidnappers thought they had Tim Drake.” Batman supplies, while Red Robin tries to work through the emotional whiplash.
“Ah, makes sense… wait.” Danny sits up suddenly, squinting at Red Robin. “Did you say you loved me?”
“No, of course not, why would I—”
“Tim? Is that—are you—are you Red Robin?”
“Everyone, hold the fuck up!” Red Hood shouts from the other side of the warehouse, having finished securing the perps to a streetlight outside. “Double R is dating Danny fucking Nightingale?”
Well, there goes his identity… Oh, who’s he kidding, Danny’s smart. There’s no way he could have salvaged that. This was not how he thought the night was going to go.
“Cranberry, is that you?” Danny twists in his chair, somehow delighted to see Red Hood rescuing him, too. “I thought I smelled you lurking about!”
“Shut it, you little shit. Since when were you dating this dweeb?”
“I’m sorry,” Red Robin pleads, hands in the air to try and slow down the onslaught of information and insults, “you two know each other?”
“Cranberry?” Nightwing echoes, looking as lost as Red Robin feels.
“Yeah, Cranberry—The Cranberries—zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie. Obviously. Also he’s wearing a big, fuck off red helmet.”
“Yeah, sure, makes sense.”
It’s about the only thing that does.
“And please don’t call my boyfriend a dweeb, Cranberry. Especially when he just said he loves me for the first time.”
“He only said it because he thought you were dead.”
“I am dead, so it counts.”
“Only half, so I’d say that puts you at a solid ‘like’. Tim’s—and savour this, Tim, because I’m only going to say it once—Tim’s intelligent, so I’m sure he’ll come to his senses soon.”
Danny just throws Red Hood such a shit-eating grin. A level of feral that Tim’s only seen before in Damian.
“That’s what I used to say about Jazz, too.”
Hood scoffs in offence, and to be honest, Tim’s not sure where he should go from here. What the hell is happening, how do they know each other?
“Come on, is anyone going to untie me or am I really meeting your family mafia-style?”
“Do it yourself, Slimer.” Red Hood laughs, crossing his arms.
“Ugh, you suck so much. I’ll fucking slime you, just you wait. Can’t believe Jazz even likes you, I preferred it when she was dating Johnny.”
And then, without Danny doing anything other than muttering obscenities at Red Hood, the ropes fall to the ground. In one swift motion, Danny stands up and stretches himself to his full height of 5’6.
“All of you need to explain, now.” commands Batman, and honestly, Red Robin’s very much on his side of it.
“I can’t believe it… Jason and Timmy are both in secret relationships? That’s… How come no one told me?” Poor Nightwing sounds the most shocked out of all of them. He turns to Damian and clasps onto both of his shoulders. “You’re not secretly dating, are you, D? Please tell me you’re not, please tell me you’re single, please?”
Of course, Robin just clicks his tongue and pushes his hands away. Really, Red Robin doesn’t think that Nightwing’s in any danger of that happening, he’d be surprised if anyone could stand Robin enough to actually date him.
He shakes his head and turns to Danny, who’s staring right back at him, worry clear on his face.
Fuck, he... He's alive. He's really alive.
Tim pulls him into a bone-crushing hug, fingers buried deep in his NASA shirt. Tucking his face into the crook of Danny's shoulder, he laughs wetly with the joy of it. He's alive. He hasn't lost him. He's safe.
“I’m sorry I haven’t told you before now, starshine, but…” Danny breaks the hug and softly pulls away from him to rise on his tiptoes to place a kiss his cheek. The skin burns cold where his lips touch. “I love you, too. Also, you’re gonna wanna sit down. This is going to be a lot.”
#dpxdc#dead tired#anger management#(barely but it's there haha)#dcxdp#hailsatanacrab🦀🦀writes#i'm sorry this has taken a while but also this week has kinda sucked and i'm still pissed off about that#so writing has been a nice little break from that!!!!#i hope you enjoy it!! i'm not fantastic with writing romance/ships so like... hope it's alright haha#also i feel kinda bad about not putting the whole phantom reveal too but like... we get that all that time haha#idk maybe i'll continue it#OH SHIT I FORGOT MY WRITING TAG HOLD ON#must admit - i do like that you can edit the tags now even though the new post maker sucks#anyway!!!!!!! i had this whole bit from danny's pov in the beginning where he just decided to go to sleep but realised that fucking sucked#it was so boring haha#so we got this instead!#hope the emotions came across - i feel like i have a tendency to just go cold and clinical when emotions happen#idk#oh! danny and tim met because danny's a part time barista and when tim ordered his monstrocity of a drink danny just winked and said#'ah the walking dead special coming right up!' and added another three espresso#jason and jazz met before they did though - and none of them knew they were dating the other's family#danny and jason have a bit of a rocky relationship - he's not good enough for jazz!! she deserves way better than some two-bit gangster!!#jason just thinks he's a cute overprotective brother - he really envies their relationship and wishes he could have something like that#he likes to rib danny and tbh danny is really warming up to him too - now that the gross stinky ecto is starting to filter out#(which is thanks to him and jazz - which jason does know about and is extremely grateful for)#(he really does love jazz and is a little bit jealous that tim told danny he loved him first)#(jason goes home that night and dips jazz into a kiss and whispers it into her skin over and over again)#(he loves her he loves her he loves her - and who the fuck is johnny?)#once tim gets over his shock he's doing good! of course he accepts danny there was never any question of that#he meets ellie and then introduces her to kon and the rest of the team and ellie decides she might like to do some superheroing for a bit
344 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
poeticfroggy
Jane And John Doe
articlesrewritten
Articles Rewritten on Tumblr
drawfruitsandpizza
Just draw!
rapsoda
🌧️
seex-love-and-youre-my-drug
Be Strong