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tswhiisftteedr · 3 months

Note

ANYTHING Lute x Reader, i just need to see more of this perfect gal whose had like 3 minutes total of screentime

Girls ☆ One Shot

☆ Lute x Human Soul!Fem!Reader:

After having met you on your first day in heaven, your life and lute’s would change for the better as you had found your other half despite your original predicaments.

Words: 4228

Warnings: Mature Content, Explicit/Graphic Language, Honestly Nothing Kinky, It’s just plain girl on girl smut. Homophobia. Lute might be ooc. NOT PROOFREAD.

Notes: Okay right off the bat, some bullshit logic about angels being able to tell if someone is queer, also lute is gay but has some major internalized homophobia so for a good chunk of this she’s rude to the reader just because they’re gay.

☆ more under the cut. ☆

Frankly, the scenario felt weird, especially given the fact that both of you were, well, 'you.'

From a logical standpoint, it didn't add up, not in the slightest. However, in the grand scheme of things, ‘does love really need to make sense?’

The response to that question was unquestionably, no, when observing your relationship with Lute.

It all began when your seemingly stable life abruptly crumbled. While crossing the street, mind you, at a red light, fate took a dark turn as a truck with faulty brakes struck you, ending your life on the spot.

There was no reincarnation into another world after this encounter with truck-kun; you were flat out dead.

In the blink of an eye, you found yourself standing before the gates of Heaven, where Saint Peter meticulously inspected his book, akin to the VIP list of an exclusive nightclub – or so it seemed.

However, instead of the typical club scene with artificial lights, drugs, unpleasant odours, drunk individuals, and a sense of desperation, you were enveloped in a heavenly realm. Fluffy clouds, savoury food, sweet fragrances, joyful company, and an overwhelming sense of acceptance surrounded you.

This was truly paradise, and you were relieved that your life wasn't too problematic. After being shown your potential residence—a beautiful house with a spacious garden—and touring 'Heaven city' with a friendly Angel couple, you enjoyed exploring your surroundings.

However, the perfection took a turn when you accidentally encountered the first unfriendly 'individual' in Heaven.

"Watch it," the woman with white hair warned you, and after scanning you from head to toe (much like her golden-winged companion), she remarked, "I guess they really let anybody in these days, even people like you."

With those words, she walked away accompanied by the non-human-looking 'man,' which seemed to be the norm in this place. However, you couldn't shake off the unease caused by her reference to 'people like you.'

Soon, you discovered the meaning behind her comment. Apparently, angels here could distinguish between cis-straight and queer individuals.

The reason of ‘why?’ remained unknown to you, but what became clear was that, in her opinion, you didn't deserve Heaven—not based on your actions but solely due to your sexuality, ‘and that pissed you off.’

You had planned to confront her the next time your paths crossed, and that moment arrived three months later, long after you had moved on from the incident;

Now, you were patiently waiting in line to sample drinks at the recently opened smoothie bar. The atmosphere was serene and heavenly, as expected.

Just as it was about to be your turn to order, you were rudely jolted by the announcement, "Move it, bitches, Adam’s in the houuuse."

You found yourself pushed aside, forced to witness the obnoxious Angel now placing his order.

Midway through his order “Pineapple smoothie with extra pineapple, tapioca, grass jelly, make it an extra-large with extra sugar, then she’ll have-“ it suddenly dawned on you that he was the guy with the white-haired companion from last time. Before you could fully process it, you turned around to find the white-haired woman right beside you.

Upon noticing you, she shot a disgusted glare and 'tsk' your way. Frustrated, you thought, 'That rude bitch- Not only did she cut in line, but she also gave you a look like you were a turd on the incredibly clean streets of heaven!'

This time, you were determined to speak your mind to her;

"Whats your problem?" you question her with frustration evident in your tone.

"Excuse me?" she retorts, disdain dripping from her voice.

"I'm asking, what's your issue with me? Our first encounter, you flat out implied I didn't belong in heaven. Seriously, for what, for being gay? Firstly, that's bullshit because my worth as a person shouldn't be based on my sexuality. Secondly, it's just plain homophobic. Isn't heaven supposed to be all about accepting thy neighbour? So instead of treating me like I'm beneath you, how about an apology for our last interaction, Miss off-brand Kanade?" You lay it all out, determined not to let her disrespect slide this time. She was to blame before, but allowing it again would be on you, ‘and that wasn't going to happen.’

"Oooooh, cat fight!" remarked the golden-winged Angel, treating your dispute as some form of entertainment. Also 'cat fight', was he fucking serious?! That term left you thinking, 'misogynistic asshole!' in response to his words.

"Do you even know who you're speaking to?" the woman questioned, exuding a sense of superiority.

"Yeah, tear that bitch a new on, Lute!" the golden-winged Angel chimed in.

"I don't 'lute,' and if you were truly that significant, I would’ve. But it sure as hell doesn't seem to be the case!" you retorted with a touch of spite, placing extra emphasis on her name.

The shop as a hole gasped at the mention of the ‘H word’.

"I’ll have you on that I hold the title of Lieutenant of— in the Heavenly Army. And as one of God's warriors, I deserve respect from someone of your, let's say, slightly above dreadful mortal soul status," she declares, almost slipping up and inadvertently revealing the existence of exterminators.

"Sure thing, 'heaven warrior.' Firstly, when did we ever need an angel like you? It's been peaceful here. Secondly, I couldn't help but notice that slip-up. I don't know your real occupation, probably still military judging by your mannerisms, but certainly not some simple member of this 'heaven’s army,'" you respond, now sure that she's concealing her true job from most of Heaven's population.

"You insolent, miserable, lower life form! Consider yourself fortunate that your meager good deeds in your pathetic human life landed you here. Otherwise, I would have had the pleasure to—" she began, but was abruptly interrupted by her 'companion' or perhaps 'boss.' "Chill out, danger tits," he calmly stated in a tone vastly different from his earlier goofiness. The shift in his demeanor was genuinely unsettling.

And her attitude swiftly transformed; she composed herself and turned to face him. "I apologize, Adam, sir. I allowed my emotions to take over and stepped out of line," she said, directing her apology not to you but to her boss.

With that, the two individuals departed, leaving you to independently apologize to your fellow angels for the disturbance.

Was that the final occasion you heard or saw them? No, because not even a month later, here you were;

Another fun aspect of heaven was its schools, designed for souls who aspired to study on Earth but lacked the opportunity or had their lives cut too short to complete their educations.

Another facet of this scenario allowed the souls of teachers or individuals aspiring to aid in unfulfilled dreams to volunteer for assisting with the children's education.

That's why you found yourself present today, supporting Miss Asiimwe with her fourth-grade anglophone class during a spelling bee. Just as the classroom door swung open, an unmistakably loud and obnoxious voice rang out, "What up turds, big bro Adam's in the house!"

Your day took a turn from a wholesome one contributing to kids' education to a shitty one, because if that ‘pompous jerk Adam was here, she sure would also be—‘ "Oh, it's you again," Lute remarks to you, her voice less harsh than the last encounter but still carrying a hint of bitterness.

Truly, ‘It was a waste for her to be so beautiful with that kind of attitude’. Despite her rude remarks about your sexual orientation, you may or may not find her attractive—perhaps not the wisest choice, and you were aware of such. But hey, after all, dominatrix existed, and they get paid handsomely to insult people. So, ‘is it really that unconventional to be into her?’

Yes, it very much so was. However, before having the chance to delve into those thoughts, Lute abruptly snapped her fingers right in front of your face to divert your attention.

"What are you doing here?! And a quit staring at me like that!" she demanded, replacing her fingers with her face, now uncomfortably close, and you could feel her breath on your face.

"Um, well— I'm assisting this classroom's teacher, something I've been doing since week one in heaven, so you're not kicking me out," you replied with a defensive tone, slightly taken aback by her question but drawing from your previous interactions.

"I never claimed I would, chill out, mortal soul. You shouldn't project the stress of your inadequacy as an inferior being into this classroom's atmosphere. Stress spreads easily, and you wouldn't want it affecting the children," she declares with authority, though her tone and gaze had some gentleness in it.

Truth be told, she might have found herself drawn to you. It was a difficult pill to swallow, given her blatant homophobia and the fact she found the thought of ‘her’ being attracted to a woman absolutely absurd.

Upon initially glimpsing your figure and sensing a certain fire within her, her instinctive response was to be rude to you.

"You mentioned you've been assisting here since your first week. How frequently do you come by?" she inquires, attempting to initiate casual conversations with you. By now, she had acknowledged that you weren't to blame for her attraction. While you might be the source, her draw toward women wasn't dependent on whether she found you hot or not.

"Well, I try to stop by at least twice a week. I believe having familiar faces during learning helps children feel safer and more supported," you admitted, surprised that she's engaging in small talk.

"I completely agree. Having a trusted adult present during learning builds a strong foundation for children's education, especially for the younger ones," she adds, gazing ahead at the classroom where the children have transitioned from spelling to playing with Adam.

"Leave it to the man-child to get along with kids," you joke to yourself, watching how effortlessly Adam bonds with the children. They're engrossed in a game involving knights and kings, with Adam, of course, playing the role of the king.

To your surprise, Lute chuckles at your remark before quickly composing herself. "Well, he is the father of humanity," she states, a faint smile appearing at the corner of her lips.

"I guess I can't argue with facts," you reply, your own face lighting up with a smile at the sight of the joyful children.

After that day, your meetings with Lute became a regular occurrence. Whether it was the joyful atmosphere of children immersed in learning or something else, she grew quite friendly with you over the course of two months. Your interactions even extended beyond the school, evolving into outings to cafes and amusement parks.

Today was one of Lute's off-duty days. You weren't exactly sure why heaven required an army, but you refrained from probing too much, especially during your hangouts, which were focused on enjoying each other's company rather than discussing work.

Currently, you were at CheeLand, the largest amusement park in all of heaven, offering rides for both the faint-hearted and adrenaline junkies alike.

You leaned towards the gentler side when it came to this type of amusement, while Lute embraced the thrill. That's why you found yourself anxiously gripping your seat’s restrains as the cart ascended the rails, anticipating the impending drop.

Your white-haired friend had successfully egged you on, convincing you to join her on the ride. Despite calming yourself in line, once the ride began, all your anxiety rushed back;

Lute, growing excited as the carts continued to climb up, remarked, "This is going to be so fucking fun! Can't believe you were such a baby about it in line." Her teasing tone shifted as she noticed your terrified expression.

Softening, she grabbed your hand and reassured you, "Listen, you'll be alright. The rides are completely safe and secure. Plus, I'm here with you." Her last sentence was emphasized by a comforting squeeze of your hand, prompting you to turn and look at her. "And worst case scenario, you're already dead, so there's nothing to be truly afraid of," she joked, easing the tension slightly.

But then came her next words, reigniting panic. "Okay, get ready, we're almost there." Glancing forward, you realized, "Oh, shit." She was right, and in an instant, the drop arrived. Both of you screamed at the top of your lungs throughout the entire ride…

You emerged from the ride, your head still a bit foggy and your voice hoarse from screaming, with Lute holding your hand.

As you both walk towards a nearby bench for a moment of composure, she remarks, "See, wasn't so bad."

"The fuck it wasn't!" you retort. Just as she's about to tease you for your reaction, you abruptly pull her into a tight hug in a serge of emotions. "But thanks for being with me. I doubt I could have even mustered the courage to join the ride lineup if you weren't here. I'm really grateful you're with me," you whisper softly.

She was startled by the contact, causing her to freeze momentarily. Although her initial instinct was to pull away due to nervousness, she recognized this as a vulnerable moment for you. Awkwardly, she hugged you back and gradually melted into the embrace.

After 5 minutes, the reality of the position hit her, and nerves kicked in. "You're welcome, now get off me, you weirdo," she insists, pulling away from the hug. However, all you can do is smile at her. Despite her attempt to maintain a front, she can't help but crack a smile too. 'She actually enjoyed how close you just were,' but that was something she kept to herself.

At some point in time, you had even overheard her referring to you as her friend to her boss, Adam, who questioned her sudden shift from his side to yours. Her face turned beet red as she defended you—a sight you wouldn't have expected from her at all.

However, that flushed look she harbored became increasingly frequent over time. You had become accustomed to her mannerisms and the way she expressed emotions, often lashing out due to difficulty in self-expression.

You had grown familiar with what brought a smile to her face, what upset her, and especially what left her flustered. By then, you had realized she liked you based on her behaviours, yet it seemed she hadn't recognized the romantic nature of her feelings.

Aware of her confusion, especially considering her upbringing and training, you knew the absence of romance in her education left her clueless about such emotions. Despite this, you chose to let her navigate these feelings on her own. It wasn't your place to impose that you were better aware of her own emotions than she was.

Yet, you played a role in guiding her toward this realization by incorporating more physical gestures, of course, always within her comfort boundaries: holding her hand more often, offering more frequent hugs, ensuring there was some form of touch between you two.

A common occurrence was when you walked together, either with your arm around her or your pinkies linked.

Her flushed face became so habitual that seeing her without it seemed unusual; the red tint became her typical expression when spending time with you.

Take, for instance, that day when you visited the newly opened restaurant on 'Holy Avenue.';

Opting for a Caesar salad, Lute aimed to play it safe in case the other offered dish didn't appeal to her taste. However, as she munched on her food, her gaze kept wandering to your dish, which seemed quite appetizing.

She attempted to deny her desire for a bite, but after spending so much time together, you had become adept at reading her emotions.

Acknowledging her unspoken request, you picked up a small portion with your fork, gesturing for her to join in. Initially embarrassed, she hesitated to refuse, but a single pleading look and she relented.

Her face flushed from the intimate gesture, the question of ‘why was she getting so worked up over your friendly act’ lingered in her mind as she finally took the bite-size food portion. The fact that she found you visually pleasing wasn't the answer she sought. Her feelings were deeper than mere physical attraction.

This realization was further confirmed as she spent the entire night unable to sleep, her mind consumed by thoughts of your hangout and the fact that you had fed her.

Tossing and turning, she found herself questioning the nature of your relationship: were you friends? Yes, that was obvious. Were you a couple? No, definitely not. Did she want you to be more than friends, an item perhaps? "Uuh, fuck," she groaned into her pillow as the realization hit her that she had developed feelings for you.

By now, it seemed like everyone and their mothers were aware of Lute's feelings, evident in her actions toward you. Not only had she begun reciprocating your physical advances, but she also initiated some herself.

Whether it was greeting you with a warm hug after a week apart, including you in her imposed outings with Adam, or playfully wrapping an arm around your waist during these occasions, her actions spoke volumes.

She'd whisper sweet jabs about her boss into your ear, leading to fits of laughter. Adam, in response, would roll his eyes at your intimate gestures, teasing Lute for being too obvious about her affection.

Despite her embarrassment and denials of any romantic feelings, you knew better than to take those at face value.

Yet besides the deep connection you shared, she struggled to express her feelings toward you. Accepting that she liked you had already been a significant challenge. Therefore, the idea of asking you out was currently off the table.

She needed to communicate her sentiments without uttering a word, and that's where today came into play—Valentine's Day.

Lute had dedicated the entire previous day and night to baking the perfect sweet, chocolaty treat for you. Not being accustomed to baking, she faced numerous trials and errors before getting it just right. Now, the moment had arrived for her to present these treats to you.

Having texted you to meet her at 'Wings Caffe' around 10, she patiently occupied a table since 9:30 a.m. following your confirmation text.

Initially, her plan was to simply hand you the chocolate, letting you make assumptions and agreeing when you eventually concluded that she liked you. However, things didn't go as planned, and nerves took over;

"Aww, that's so sweet, Lute. Thank you, really. I didn't get anything today, since y’a know, single as a Pringle," you remarked, pointing to yourself. "These chocolates mean a lot. By the way, they look fantastic. Where did you get them? I'd love to buy more for a snack," you inquired, holding the heart-shaped box.

"Made them," she mumbled, visibly embarrassed by your compliments.

"Really? Wow, I didn't know you baked. Maybe I'll come over to your place more often and have you whip something up for me," you begin. The implication of spending more time together tugs at Lute's chest, but your last sentence hits her hard. "I'm so grateful to have a friend who's skilled at baking and willing to make me things," you say as you start munching on the treats.

'Friends'—that's right, nothing more. It appears she couldn't rely on the heart-shaped box or the chocolate with words of affirmation in pink sprinkles to convey her feelings. If she desired more than friendship, she would have to be honest about her feelings this time.

However, true to her defensive nature, instead of clarifying the true reason behind giving chocolate on the day of love, she merely went along with your characterization of it as a friendly gesture.

"Yeah, I guess you're lucky to have a friend like me, someone so good at everything," she boasted, her voice proud, yet her expression betraying a hint of sadness.

Noticing the inconsistency, you set the box down on the table to free your hands and gently took hers. Meeting her gaze directly, you squeezed her hands for reassurance. "I wanted to let you work things out at your own pace, but we're not making any progress," you began, and she looked at you wide-eyed.

"I like you, Lute, and I know you like me too," you stated frankly. Before she could employ her defense mechanism, you added, "I'm not saying we have to start dating right away. I understand if you're not ready for that. But please keep in mind, as long as you don't outright reject me, I'll keep trying to pursue a relationship with you."

Upon hearing those words, Lute sensed the release of all the built-up stress and fear of rejection.

A newfound confidence surged within her, making her bold enough to grab your face and plant a bold kiss in plain sight for everyone at the café to witness. "Fuck yes, I'll be your girlfriend," she declared as she pulled away.

With a simple "Now, let's get out of here," the two of you stood up from your seats, leaving the café behind as her apartment became your new destination.

Upon reaching her place, things escalated rapidly—like, really rapidly. Mere seconds after stepping through the door, she was all over you.

Passionate kisses, hands exploring every inch of your body, fingers grabbing at whatever they could find. Nails scratching and digging, teeth occasionally biting at your skin when her mouth left yours.

Given the speed with which she undressed you, it seemed like she had envisioned this scenario for quite some time.

Before you knew it, you were lying on her bed, completely devoid of clothing, and that's when she began to work her magic;

Squirming within her grasp, she held your thighs down while eating you out. Breathless, you questioned, "I thought you were a homophobe before we met. How are you so good at this??" The overwhelming sensation of her tongue left you in awe.

You can practically feel her grin against your lips as she responds, "Yep, I was. But after developing a crush on you, I did my homework. Figured it be useful at one point or another. Though, ‘didn't think I'd be that good on my first actual trial.”

"Please don’t stop" you croak out between pants.

“Don’t worry, I won’t." she promised, increasing her rhythm and pressure.

As she continued to please you, you couldn't help but wonder what changed in her. This was way different from her usual flustered self. ‘Was it the time spent together? Or maybe the touch? The combination of both?’

Regardless, you decided to focus solely on the present moment, losing yourself in the sensations coursing through your body. Lute showed no signs of slowing down, proving her dedication to satisfying you.

Eventually, you reached climax, shouting her name as you finally released, your wings fluttered and your essence coated her tongue. Her response? She swallowed it down greedily, moaning around your pussy. When you finally fell back onto the bed, panting heavily, she climbed up beside you, her breasts pressing against your chest.

"That was... intense," you managed to utter between breaths.

"Glad you enjoyed it," she whispered, nibbling on your earlobe.

As you settled down together, Lute traced gentle circles on your stomach before trailing her fingers along your inner thighs. Her thumb brushed against your sensitive folds again, teasingly circling your tight entrance. "Do you want more?" she asked softly, her voice husky with desire.

You nodded weakly, unable to speak coherently yet.

Without further delay, Lute positioned herself between your spread legs again, positioning her own pussy just inches away from where she had been earlier. Lowering herself slowly, she began to rub your clits together, creating a new wave of pleasure that reverberated throughout both of them.

With each thrust of her hips, she increased the pace until you were moving in sync, your moans growing louder as you neared another orgasmic peak.

Your bodies intertwined, united in shared ecstasy, leaving neither wanting nor regretting your decision to explore the concept of a sexual relationship together.

Lute's hands grabbed onto your hips, holding you steady as she picked up speed, driving them both closer to climax. Your nails dug into her shoulders, leaving shallow crescent marks in the soft flesh; evidence of your shared intensity.

You could feel the familiar buildup starting again, your entire body tensing up in anticipation. With one final powerful thrust, Lute groaned loudly, her orgasm crashing over both of you like waves crashing onto shore. In response, you let out a high-pitched cry, joining her in blissful release.

Breathing heavily, you stayed in the same position for several moments longer than necessary, savouring the afterglow of your passionate union.

Eventually, you separated, both panting heavily. Lute rolled off of you, lying next to you on the bed, her chest heaving rapidly.

"That was... incredible," she panted out, reaching over to grab a nearby water bottle and handing it to you.

"Yeah, it was... Although I have to admit, having sex on the first day of making it official is pretty needy," you playfully tease her.

"Oh, shut up," she retorts before planting a kiss on your lips once you've swallowed your sip of water.

This relationship was going to be wilder than what you had anticipated…

Thanks anon for requesting!

©tswhiisfttedr. dn translate, or plagiarize.

Tip Me (Ko-Fi) & And support my art account @maviscarlettie

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Tag list for Lute: @sunflower-lilly @charlott30045 (I still used your request because it was one that fit with what I had already received)

Reblogs help!!! (Request Are On Pause)

#tswhiisftteedr #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel #hazbin adam #hazbin lute #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel adam #adam hazbin hotel #lute hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lute #lute smut #lute x reader

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gabrielsbubblegumbitch · 3 months

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Please, elaborate more on these Hazbin Hotel headcanons. I’m very interested in hearing about them.

I would like to preface all my posts on headcanons related to psychology and mental illness with a disclaimer: diagnosing mental conditions, especially personality disorders, can be extremely challenging. It's a complicated process that relies heavily on a psychologist's interpretation of facts, making it susceptible to biases. Personality disorders cannot be diagnosed based on surface-level observations and are not just labels that we can assign to people like in the case of MBTI. Additionally, I am not a clinician with any expertise in diagnosing people. Therefore, the following post should not be taken as a reliable professional opinion. It's simply my interpretation of the internal mechanisms that may be responsible for the behavior of certain characters in my fan fiction. Furthermore, I want to make it clear that I have no intention of stigmatizing people with personality disorders by associating them with villains. A personality disorder does not determine someone's character or make them a bad person. Some characters may be evil because of the choices they make, not as a result of their mental conditions.

Since you didn't ask about anything specific, I'll just give some headcanons on Vs since I think about them the most.

> Vs are not a polycule, it's VoxVal + Velvette because she would never touch any of these losers. What's more, Vox and Val are extremely sexist (I mean it's kinda canon, we heard how they speak about women) so if she had sex with any (or both) of them, she would no longer be one of the boys and become one of the bitches.

> Vox has NPD, Val has BPD, Vel has APD.

> Vox is continuously overstimulated because he's constantly connected to his web. That's why snaps so easily and sometimes goes through 5 stages of grief in 5 seconds. He could disconnect (and sometimes he does) but he's too much of a control freak to not lurk constantly.

> During his life on earth, Valentino had a terrible, toxic father. Very much machismo who abused him relentlessly for being queer. (Not that I want to make him sympathetic, I just think that evil people are often miserable before they become evil.) Because Val is very queer, not just "man occasionally fucking other men", he's always been loud and proud pansexual and gender non-conforming. He wasn't some kind of activist, very concerned about queer issues, he just refused to stay in the closet out of spite, and because it made men around him uncomfortable. He just enjoyed being perceived as a deviant. It was one of the things that eventually got him killed.

> Vox is like a hardcore sadist. He cuts people open just to feel powerful.

> During his life on Earth, Vox used to be extremely homophobic because his bisexuality was threatening to his masculinity. He's also the embodiment of toxic white masculinity from the 50's. He actually did some personal growth in Hell, eg. He gave up racism, homophobia, transphobia, and most other -phobias, and now he despites everyone rather equally. He just bullies women more because misogynistic violence is a low-hanging fruit.

> So with Velvette I had some fun because she manifested in Hell not so long ago and happened to be as powerful as other Vs, who had much more experience and souls collected. So I assumed she must be completely deranged. I came up with the idea that she used to be a toxic influencer who built a cult-like following around her. She weaponized it against multiple people, ruining lives, and manipulating kids into committing crimes or even suicides. Her methods are very fine, Vox and Val have nothing on her when it comes to cruelty.

> Velvette is not misogynistic per se but she despises weak women who can't fight for themselves. That's why other Vs behavior don't bother her, she doesn't feel threatened by their aggression.

> Angel Dust has BPD and an eating disorder. That's why he fell for Valentino so terribly, to trust him with his soul. He used to think that Valentino is the only person fucked up enough to truly love him as damaged as he'd been. (More hc about Val and Angel here). Actually Val has a very similar backstory to him - a queer, gender non-conforming man in a very masculine environment (I'm not sure how canonic is Angel working for the Italian Mafia at this point but I stick to it until proven otherwise).

Other headcanos about Vox and Val ❤️🩵

#hazbin hotel #valentino #vox #Velvette #VoxVal #angel dust #Huskerdust #headcanon #ask #vox hazbin hotel #valentino hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel velvette

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nwndrlndn · 10 months

Text

Come Back

pairing : sam monroe x gn!reader | wc : 2.9k | 18+MINORS DNI

summary : No one's really there for him, except you. So after his night with one of Josh's clients, he looks for comfort in the way only you know how.

warnings : sam and user are in college, prostitution and drugs, internalized homophobia, toxic masculinity and slut shaming, hurt and comfort, smut, unhealthy coping skills, relationship is sort of toxic, sam is bipolar coded, oral ( m receiving ), degredation

a/n : sammy my beloved <3; tw for literally any of what was mentioned in the warnings.

You’re at your dorm room in bed with Sam, sat on his lap as he smokes a cigarette you stole from your step mom this morning. His eyes shut and his taps his foot along to the drums of the song playing on your stereo right now, one hand on the cigarette and the other on your waist, rubbing at you softly. You can hear one of your roommates banging at your door to try and get you to turn the music down but Sam just turns it up to drown her out.

You carefully outline his eyes with your eyeliner pencil and he’s perfectly pliant for you, letting you twist and turn his head without too much of a struggle. “Which band is this again?” You ask as you keep working.

Sam opens one of his eyes, and looks at you before grumbling, “A Perfect Circle.” He shifts his shoulders slightly and blows out his smoke before he talks again. “You almost done yet?”

“Yeah, just let me…” You murmur before you smear his eyeliner for him, when you're done, you lean in to kiss his forehead and his hands slide up to your chest.

“Thanks babe.” Sam whispers, kissing you quickly on the lips before letting his hands slip below the hem of you shirt, deepening the kiss as he pulls you to him. You drop your eyeliner to hold him to you by the back of his head. As your tongues dance, you taste the lingering smoke in his mouth and his hands grab at your belt loops, holding you to his hips. Slowly, he starts to grind up against you, making you moan. He holds back a groan by sucking a hickey on your chest, a smirk lining his face when you gasp in surprise.

After another minute, his phone rings and he checks the caller before he all but shoves you to the side and stands up to answer it. As he starts to speak in a hushed tone over the phone, you look up at him, feeling upset that he was starting something he wasn’t finishing. You listen in closely and you know what he’s doing, his whispers of “only once” and a frustrated groan of “either 300 bucks or the weed?”

So when you hear him start to say goodbye, you loop two fingers through the top of his shorts, smirking up at him. “Sam… finish what you started.” You whine and he rolls his eyes.

“Lay off of me, I got things to do.” He says, pushing you off of him. You were used to his mood swings and moodiness, so you reach out and hold onto the hem of his shirt, trying to keep him close. “Where are you going?”

Sam groans and pulls at your hands. When you let go, so does he, so he turns to stare at you, his face inches from yours. “You can't keep me here, you know.”

“Can’t I try?” You murmur, grazing your lips against his

“You're persistent, aren't you?” He says, shutting his eyes as he runs his hands through your hair, leaning in for a long kiss. As soon as you kiss back, his grip tightens on the back of your head, allowing him to take control of the kiss.

“Don’t go meet up with Josh” You whisper softly, resting your forehead on his. “I know you need something, but maybe we can find something else.”

“You're cute but naive. We can't afford weed or anything else.” He says, his voice flat and his tone serious. “Josh doesn't have money but he does have drugs. And since I'm out of them, I need to get more.” He lean in as he moves his lips to your neck.

“But hes gonna…” You start but he cuts you off.

“He’s gonna pimp me out to some guy. Just gotta be some guy's bitch for 2 hours and I’ll get enough weed for a week. Just once, just this one time.” He murmurs, licking at your neck before he pull away, staring down at you. “I don't have any other choice. If I want to get my fix, then I do it or I don't get anything. It's my only option.”

“Just, be careful.” You murmur softly, kissing him again. “Come back here after, I'll be here waiting for you.”

“I'll be back in a few.” He says, straightening up, putting on his jacket and walking to the door. Then he pulls it open, walks out of your dorm and to Josh’s car. You can see Josh’s smarmy face from your window and he recognizes you, waving at you with a smile. You give him the finger before you wait to see Sam get in and leave.

A few hours later, the sun has disappeared and the night sky is visible. A car passes the dorm, then stops. And Sam gets out and walks up to the door, getting all the way to your room and knocking. “Y/N, are you here?” I wait a few seconds before trying again. “Y/N!”

After a second, you make it to the door and open it up. You’re just in your pajamas and your roommates are in the common room, looking over. “Sam.” You whisper breathlessly, looking him over.

“Hey.” He murmurs as he stands outside the door, visibly exhausted after what he went through. “Thanks for waiting for me.” He looks down, ashamed, knowing you saw him come out of a man's car.

“C'mon” You whisper, taking his hand and leading him over to your room and he follows you, sitting on the bed as you start to look for an extra towel and clothes for him. After a few minutes of silence, but Sam breaks it. “Do you still think less of me for what I did earlier?”

“No.” You whisper, exasperated. You drop what you’re holding and move over to him, cradling his face and kissing his cheek softly. He smiles hesitatingly, placing his hands on your hips as he leans in, pressing his lips against yours. He pulls you tighter into his arms, kissing you deeply and passionately.

Sam’s mind is all over the place. He can feel the bag of weed in his jacket pocket but all he thinks about is the shame and the mans hands as they grabbed at him. When he shuts his eyes, its like he’s back in the car, feeling the old fuck’s thick fingers pawing at him. He had his own partner already, and they tried. They didn’t want him to go. Was some weed worth this?

As he sits, Sam starts to subconsciously tug at his clothes in discomfort. When you notice this, you get all of the supplies you gathered and sit next to him. “You should take a shower.” You say gently, before giving him another one last kiss and stand up to find a towel for him.

He gives a sad grin at you over his shoulder, taking the towel. Then he goes shower and lingers under the hot water, cleaning the stench of the other man off him and leaning against the cool tile to cry. No matter how he felt, he couldn’t cry in front of you. Then he would be proving his asshole stepdad right, he’d be some fucking sissy. He punches at the tiles to distract himself before he takes a breath and focuses on finishing up. When Sam’s done, he towels himself dry and heads back to your room, smiling when he spots you laying on your twin sized mattress listening to music with your eyes shut to bide the time until he gets back.

Be a man. Sam thinks to himself. Be a man. He watches you for a moment before getting dressed and laying down next to you with a sigh. Be a man. Be strong. She wont love you if you’re not tough. He scoots in behind you and softly kisses the back of your neck, laying his head next to yours. “Are you mad at me?” He places a hand on your hip, drawing your body closer to his.

When you realize that he’s back you pull of your headphones and toss them across the bed. “Why would I be mad at you?”

“Um…” He mutters, trying to remember what bullshit you told him about taking a breath and saying what you feel. “I have the feeling you think less of me for what I did today…” He whispers his lips lingering on the nape of your neck.

“I don’t.” You murmur, one of your hands brushing against his hand, causing him to nuzzle in closer to you. “I just don’t wanna push you do do anything you might not want to do. Sometimes… people need time before they feel comfortable being affectionate.”

“I’m not a bitch. If I wanna kiss you and touch you, I’ll fucking do it.” He growls against your neck, shutting his eyes as he leans his head into your neck, enjoying the warmth radiating off of you, his hands slide under the hem of your shirt, cool hands warming up as he rests them on your midriff. You let out a quiet hiss at his hands before you whisper.

“I care about you, Sam.” You whisper, letting him rest against you and staying still as he continues to readjust his body feeling out of place and wrong no matter how he rests against her. As he keeps moving, his frustration starts to bubble. Why wasn’t he able to just get comfortable, they had been dating for over a year, they’ve done this enough times for it to make sense. “Sammy?” You ask quietly.

“Shut your trap! Can’t you see I’m trying to get comfortable?” He shouts before he moves away from you, facing the wall and resting his head in his hands.

After a few moments of stunned silence, Sam sighs, rubbing his eyes. “I needed the money, and that was the only way I could get it. But I feel dirty. I feel ashamed. Like I cant even look at you.” He grumbles, tears in his eyes. “I don't want you to hate me…”

“I don’t hate you.” You whisper, sitting up and crawling to his side, lifting his head to yours and kissing him gently. Instantly, he runs his fingers through your hair, hugging you to him. He closes his eyes, laying his head against your chest.

“I'll be better. I promise I won't do any of this anymore... I just-” He sniffles, wiping his tears. “I just needed money. I didn't want to do it.”

“I know.” You say calmly, rubbing his back. “Do you feel like… emasculated?”

He stays quiet and takes a breath, trying to contain his emotions. “Yeah. I feel emasculated. I feel humiliated, disgusted with myself, dirty. It's just- I just feel so bad about myself.”

You stay silent for a moment, but slowly, he starts to turn to you. “I want to... I want to feel powerful again. I want to not feel like this anymore. I want to be in control.” He murmurs, tugging you to him again, his hands sliding up your pajama shirt as he tugs you on his lap. “Please?” He groans, leaning up to nibble on your collarbone, kissing his way up to the spot right under your ear, kissing you softly.

“Okay.” You murmur, reaching down to rub his shoulders gently. His eyes light up once you agree and he slowly kisses his way down your neck, gently biting you. His hands hold on your waist, pulling you tighter to him before he tugs your shirt off, throwing it across the room.

“Did ‘ya know you taste really fucking sweet?” He whispers before he pulls you into a kiss, his tongue shoving its way into your mouth, hands grabbing at your waist. When he pulls away, you're both panting and he goes in again, biting at your lip and tongue, relishing in the way you jump and squeak. “You taste like mint and- uh… mint and”

“Coconut?” You offer, grinding your hips onto his, gasping as you feel his hardening member hit your thigh.

“Did I ask you?” Sam grunts as he tugs your hair back to kiss at your neck, sucking in hickeys across the base of your neck. “But yeah, coconut. Thanks babe.”

You beam with pride as he smiles, before he pulls you forward again and whispers in your ear. “You wanna make me feel in control? Wanna help me feel better? Get on your fucking knees and open your whore mouth.”

With a light push at your shoulders you get up and sit betweens Sam’s legs at the edge of your bed. You watch wordlessly as he unzips his pants, and stands to let his baggy shorts drop to his ankles. Once they pool on the ground, he sits and guides your head to him and you take a breath as you look at the sheer size of him, your mouth watering. You move on your own, your hands moving to give him a few quick strokes and watching as his eyes narrow at you and his chin juts out.

“What, you scared? Need me to hold your hand? Tell you how its done? We both know you’ve done this before, slut. I bet I’m not even in the first 20, probably not even the first 40.” He hisses at you, before you lean in and lick his tip, your eyes still looking up at him. Slowly, you start to slide him in your mouth and that earns you a groan, one of his hands, covered in a bunch of bracelets rushes to your head, gently rubbing your head as you ease him into your mouth.

You want to smile at him, but you focus on letting your mouth adjust, your nose resting against his trimmed pubes and the end of his cock hitting the back of your throat. No matter how mean he got with his words, his actions showed how he felt. He never rushed you, he wanted to make sure you were okay. And for a moment, you shut your eyes, letting him rub your scalp before you start to pull back, hollowing your cheeks as you find your rhythm.

“Fuck.” Sam groans, his head falling back as he lets out a breath, only for his breathing to pick up. His eyes screw shut as he continues to rub your hair gently. “Perfect. Keep going.” He says breathlessly, and you watch him through half-lidded eyes. You hum and his hand grabs your hair tightly as his hips roll into your mouth on their own, set into motion by feeling of the vibrations on his cock. You keep moving, picking up speed as you listen to Sam’s groans and pants, and when you feel him start to tense up, you pull him out of his mouth. As you start stroking him until he cums on your face in thick ropes, you smile as you listen to his drawn out moans and gasps for air, giggling to yourself as the warm fluid hits your face and bare chest. Sam’s head is thrown back and you can see he’s smiling up at the ceiling, coming down from his high.

Once he’s drained, he lifts your chin and taps two of his fingers against your lips, smirking once you take them in your mouth. “Make sure you get them wet enough. Don’t need my little slut crying about how I didn't stretch them enough.”

#[ 🍒 ] — my works #[ 🎧 ] — sam #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe #sam monroe smut #sam monroe x you #sam monroe x y/n

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zykamiliah · 7 months

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what about bingqiu?

this is my response to this post. i didn't want to reply in the same post because it's going to get really long, and i disagree with almost everything, so this way i may avoid the discourse. haha. anyway, i'm gonna try to answer each of op's points.

-why bingqiu are a couple:

♦ because despite everything, they've chosen each other. not because they're soulmates (though mxtx did pull the string of fate thing), but because they genuinely want to spend time together

it's very subtle but they do share some values and similarities: they both repay kindness with kindness and believe that one should pay back those who hurt you twofold/tenfold. furthermore, they are both petty bitches. as @fireandgrimstone pointed out here, they're both busybodies: they get restless if they aren't doing something.

on that note: self-preservation is not a core value they share. sqq is terrible at self-preservation. from the first moment, instead of minding his own business, he risked losing points (which would terminate his account and kill him) just to protect binghe when he was being bullied by ming fan and co. sqq couldn't stand by watching someone being bullied. then during the demon invasion, he was ready to risk his own life to protect all the cqm disciples. he was willing to self-destruct to take out sha hualing.

the thing is that sqq likes to lie about himself and say everything he does is out of self-preservation, but it isn't true.

so, if it wasn't out of self preservation, why did sqq pushed binghe into the endless abyss? yes, it needed to happen, but he didn't do it to save himself. he can't hurt binghe just to protect himself. he did it because he brainwashed himself into believing this was the best for binghe, that binghe needed to in order to become strong and achieve his fate.

(chapter 4: conference)

♦ because they give each other what they need. consistent love, support and understanding was something lbh really needed, and those 2-3 years before the immortal alliance conference did wonders for binghe to allow himself to feel vulnerable and be more in touch with his own feelings. this will get screwed up post-endless abyss but sqq does encourage him in the extras to express his feelings and talk about what he thinks and feels.

now, what lbh gives to sqq may not seem obvious (thank you for the help, luuny!♥), since sqq's layered narration is tricky to deconstruct, but by the end of the novel lbh can get past sqq's tsundere/savin face bullshit. sqq has all his toxic masculinity ideas and internalized homophobia that he keeps dragging everywhere he goes, and his relationship with lbh, who was supposed to be the epitome of masculinity, has allowed him to shed off some of it. but not all. thus, lbh knows when sqq needs to be pushed or coaxed into doing something he already wants to do but thinks he shouldn't want and doesn't know how to justify (sex for example). lbh also gives sqq the whole domestic package: someone to dote on, someone that does the chores and takes care of him, because frankly sqq is good at many things but he fails at self-care.

♦ domesticity and companionship. for bingqiu it wasn't like other couples who were first attracted to each other from one reason or another and from then on the relationship developed. the first period of their relationship is mostly platonic (poor binghe is suffering the teenage hormones), and was based on the easy domesticity and companionship they shared. and honestly that's such a simple yet beautiful kind of love. they genuinely like spending time together, living together, talking to each other. they never get bored of being together or of each other, which brings me to

♦ the obsession. like, it's honestly hilarious how obsessed they are with each other. sy was already obsessed with pidw protagonist bingge, but in svsss he got to love and get obsessed all over again with his own binghe aka bingmei. and from lbh's pov it's more or less the same: he had a complicated relationship with original sqq, which was the start of it all, but the person he loves is not the cold shizun from the past who he needs to prove himself to, but the one that's always trying to protect him, even if it's from himself. in both cases, their relationship started with distance, with the shadow of the other version of each other they'd known before. but what made them fall in love weren't those ghosts from the past, but the person they could see underneath it all: the hardworking boy that just wanted to be loved, and the closeted man who wants to give love and help others and have a purpose and belong to something (binghe understands that sqq would be unhappy if he couldn't visit cqm, qjp and his sect siblings). this relates to the fact that

♦ they understand each other better than anyone else. it takes them time, but that's the point of their journey and by the time we read about their relationship in the extras, we can see that despite everything, they not only understand each other very well but actively try to understand each other better. they already made the mistake of making too many assumptions, and they're not doing that again.

________________

another point that op got wrong:

off the top of my head an example would be how bingge (he-with-no-shen-yuan) took a harem of beauties so he could control xin mo but bingmei (he-with-shen-yuan) decided to just... cripple people's cultivation (...) what i'm getting at is that binghe was willing to pay other people's lives just so he didn't have to be intimate with anyone except shen yuan.

bingge too was cripping other cultivators to get ride of the excess of demonic qi, it's just that after he captured the three nuns from tianyi overlook they taught him how to achieve the same result using dual cultivation. (thanking @stardust-falling for their notes on this topic!)

(chapter 9: borderlands)

#svsss #zykamiliah-svsss #shen qingqiu #svsss meta #bingqiu #don't underestimate tianyi's sex ed!!!#canonically so good it fixed both bingge's cultivation issues and bingqiu's sex life lol

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frenchfrywrites · 2 months

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it keeps repeating, will you please complete me?

MINORS DNI

Warnings: top cis male reader (implied switch), bottom Leona Kingscholar, internalized homophobia, self discovery, mild angst maybe?, gay awakening, very lowkey armpit/scent kink (?), blowjobs, eating ass, safe sex (a lil? Could be safer lmao), situationship turned relationship

“You've been staring at me a lot lately,” you'd meant it playfully, flirting with him as you've been doing for months, finally working up the nerve to call him on it. It started with little glances now and then, but for the last few weeks he's hardly taken his eyes off you. You've jerked yourself off too many nights in a row thinking about his beautiful brown eyes staring you down in the locker room.

Leona only ever willingly studies if you're there with him. He's a godawful study partner, when he does cram with you. He'll do anything but study. Usually he sleeps or bitches about something unimportant, but today he's been gazing at you— nearly unblinking— for the last 5 minutes. It's distracting.

You'd meant it lightly, trying to be cute, expecting him to blush and confess, but Leona looks scared. So often he boasts about being a predator, but right now he looks like a deer caught in the headlights.

“No I haven't,” he growls, “I'm not-” he swallows, his gaze hardening, “I haven't.”

This is not the reaction you'd thought you'd get, so your brows furrow in confusion.

“Uh yes you have? It's okay,” you smile, touching his hand with your own, “I've been looking too, you know” Leona jerks his hand away.

“I'm not gay,” he insists. And that makes you pause.

“I never said you were,” you reassure, “I only said you've been looking. That's okay,” relief slowly returns to his body. He clears his throat,

“Yeah? It's not weird?” He asks, sounding so unsure it makes your heart break. You remember this, what it felt like to start looking— so to speak— for the first time.

“Not at all. You can look all you want,” you hum, smiling softly, “I'd let you touch if you wanted, too,” you admit with a hum. Leona flushes, gazing at you openly now that he has permission.

The two of you leave it at that for now. You'll bet money that whatever this is will snowball into something more, but you're content if all he wants to do is look for now.

The conversation comes back up again, as you thought (hoped) it might. Leona comes to you after gym, once the locker room has been cleared out. His hair is up, which is an unnecessary detail to note, except for the fact that it makes him look all the more handsome in your eyes. It also reveals his face to you, leaving him nothing to hide behind.

He stands there silently for a second, completely still beside you, his gaze heavy and predatory. Your bag is packed, and you go to grab it and leave, since he hasn't said or done anything, but the sound of Leona's voice stops you.

“You said it was okay to touch.” It isn't a question. Confusion lasts for a second and then you're nodding, remembering exactly what it was that you said to him.

“Sure.” You set your bag down and turn to him, offering your body to his curious eyes and hands.

“It's fine, as long as we don't kiss,” he decides, placing his hands hesitantly on your pecs. You hum, absentmindedly. Whatever it takes not to scare him away.

“Take your shirt off,” he demands, tugging at the fabric. You do as you're told, your hands trembling slightly and your cheeks hot with flush.

Leona pokes and prods, pressing a finger against your nipple, cupping your chest like they’re boobs, feeling up your biceps, then lifting your arm to inspect your pits. He steps into your personal space— so close you could kiss him, but you won't— squinting at the hair there.

Then his face is pressed oh so close to your armpit, and he's smelling you. You almost can't believe that he's doing this and claiming not to be into you, or men in general. It takes everything in you not to laugh at how this seems like a bad gay porno come to life.

“You smell so much different than the girls I've been with,” he hums, pulling away to look at you as he says it.

“I imagine,” your voice comes out deep and quiet. Leona licks his lips, his tail flicking from side to side. Before you can say anything more he busies himself elsewhere, taking notice of your cock tenting your gym shorts.

He tugs your pants open, peering inside, then hums, impressed. He looks up at you, seemingly for permission; you nod, granting it.

Tugging your waistband down, he wraps his hand around your cock. You sigh softly, leaning against the lockers, and reaching out to hold onto his arm to ground yourself. As if magnetized to you, Leona leans further into your space, so close you can feel his breath against your skin as he holds you in his hand.

“It's weird touching another guy's…” he trails off, leaving the words unfinished as he rubs his thumb over your tip.

“None of the girls…” he trails off again, “well, maybe some of them did have dicks, I dunno,” he seems to be talking to himself, but you hum as if you're listening, “sometimes they just wanted to suck me off, y'know?” Your heartbeat is pounding so hard in your ears that you can barely even hear him, but you nod anyway. You choke on your spit before stammering,

“Is that something you'd want to do?” And you know you're pushing hard against the lines of the imagined box that Leona has trapped himself in, but the look he's giving you right now emboldens you.

He holds you tight in his fist, glaring you down, thinking it through, and then he's shrugging and falling to his knees before you.

“Whatever, sure,” he scoffs, “I just want to see what all the fuss is about.” You nearly laugh at that, instead giving him a sincere smile.

“Yeah, I get it,” you reach over to dig a condom out of your bag, “I like giving head,” you add, passing it to him. Shock morphs into frustration on Leona's face so quickly, if you blinked you would've missed it. He snatches the condom from your hand.

“Whose dicks are you sucking?” and oh, ain't that cute. He's jealous.

“Nun'ya,” Leona scoffs, and opens the condom, ignoring your bait. As he rolls the condom onto your length you mumble “nun'ya business,” to yourself, despite him not falling for your bit.

“If you keep annoying me, I'll bite you,” he threatens, smirking while showing off his canines. You tug on his hair, and Leona laughs out loud.

“So…” he hesitates now that he's so close to your cock, “what do I do?”

“What do you like?” you prompt, holding his head softly, mostly to have something to do with your sweaty, shaking hands. Leona returns his attention to your dick, sizing it up, before kissing his way from your tip down to the base. His hands station themselves awkwardly on your thighs, his thumbs digging into your inner thighs, causing a tingle to run along your skin.

Leona inhales your scent, completely beside himself, then sucks your head into his mouth. He'd joked earlier about his teeth, but he's very conscious of keeping them clear of your dick as he sinks you deeper into his throat.

He's a natural, taking you deep into his throat, sucking and swallowing around you like he's been dying to get a taste of you. His eyes flutter shut and his tail sways steadily from side to side as he begins to bob his head up and down along your length.

“Fuck,” you hiss, “feels good.” Leona hums at the praise, laving his tongue along the underside of your cock. He pulls up to suckle on your tip, taking a moment to catch his breath. His hand comes to stroke the bit of you that's not occupying his mouth.

You're unable to hold back soft moans and whimpers as he sucks you off, and they echo along the locker room walls. Thank god you're the only two in here.

Leona's quick to get you back down his throat, choking a bit along the way, but quickly recovering. If you weren't so focused on him you might've missed it, but you catch the soft purring coming from him. You rub the spot behind his ears, far too affectionate for what he's doing and how he came about doing it, but Leona leans into your touch, moaning along your length.

“Shit, I'm not gonna last much— hah — longer,” you confess. Leona hums in acknowledgement, bringing one hand to fondle your balls. “Leona,” you gasp, warning him as a shudder courses its way through your body, and then you curl forward, caging him in and holding his head flush against your cock while you fill the condom.

It's only when your body feels limp and sluggish with post-orgasmic haze that you release him and lean back against the lockers.

Leona coughs once your soft cock leaves his mouth, peeling off the condom, tying it off, before tossing it into the nearest trash can. You reach a hand out to help him up, and Leona takes it, shakily rising to his feet. He's hard, his cheeks flushed as he wipes drool from his chin. Pride is radiating from him as he gives you a smug grin.

“Yeah,” he coughs again, his voice thoroughly fucked, “I get why girls wanna do that.” Again, Leona doesn’t give you the chance to get a word in edgewise before he's turned around, and is swiftly making his way out of the locker room. “Thanks,” he calls just before the door can close behind him.

You stare at the door for a solid minute before tucking yourself back into your pants and sighing so loudly it echoes against the walls. You're so fucked for indulging in whatever the hell you've got going on with him. But if it leads to him blowing you more, you really can't complain.

“You said you suck dick?” Leona's question comes so suddenly out of nowhere, and he says it so nonchalantly that for a moment you honestly believe you've misheard him. The two of you are in the middle of a chess game in Leona's room, having not spoken about him sucking on your dick since it happened a couple of days ago. If it weren't for the evidence of your missing condom, you might've written it off as a particularly good and realistic wet dream.

“Yeah,” you move your rook, capturing his knight. Leona growls at your success, and goes quiet as he thinks. Naively, you assume that's the end of it.

“You'd suck mine?” he asks, finally moving his bishop near one of your pawns. It takes everything inside of you not to rush out a “yes,” showing him just how desperate you are. You pretend to think about it for a moment.

“Yeah,” you push your chair away from the table, “right now?” Leona shrugs,

“If you want to.” He sounds like he's doing you a favor, but his tail wagging excitedly and the excited grin on his face gives him away. He pushes his chair back and you get yourself between his legs.

Gently, you undo his pants, and pull his cock out. You drool, finally getting a good look at him. All you've had up until this point are crumbs, glances when he's changing before gym, and the tent you caught when he'd walked away with a hard on after sucking you off.

“Nice,” you hum, to quell any insecurity he may be having. Leona grins, his chest puffing up with pride. You stroke him to full hardness easily (a little too easily. You seriously wonder how long he's going to claim he's not into men).

“You got a condom?” you ask. Leona bristles,

“Shit—”

“When's the last time you had sex?” you ask, despite part of you not wanting to know the answer. He avoids eye contact,

“Been a couple'a months,” he huffs. You continue stroking him,

“You've gotten tested?” He nods,

“Yeah, 'm good,” you grin up at him,

“Me too,” you state before taking him into your mouth. Leona swears, his hands flying to your head. Hid dick may be impressive, but you're a good cocksucker, and take him down your throat with ease.

“Oh fuck,” he groans, staring down at you with wide eyes as you start sucking him off properly. Your hands roam, massaging his hairy thighs, rubbing circles into his flesh as you drool and swallow along his length. Even if you weren't harboring a dangerous crush on him, you think you'd worship Leona's cock all the same; his dick fits so nicely in your mouth, and his reactions have you hard and leaking in your pants, it'd only make sense to give him your best.

He's moaning your name, his voice cracking and pleading, leaking pre into your mouth, his hips jerking involuntarily, his hands tight on your head, purring up a storm. Selfishly, you want him changed from your blowjob. You don't want him looking at girls any more, you want him addicted to your mouth. You want to do something special for him.

You pull off his cock suddenly, and Leona whines openly, a “please,” nearly falling from his lips. He swallows his words when you rub his tip against your lips, stroking him, then kissing his groin. Your other hand, the one not stroking his cock, presses lightly against his rim.

Leona twitches, looking down at you with wide eyes. He looks fucked dumb just from having your mouth on him. Sweat drenched hair clings to his forehead, his mouth is open and panting, his chest heaving.

“Anyone ever put their mouth here?” you purr. Leona shakes his head dumbly. “Want me to?” He audibly gulps before nodding.

With his permission, you nestle yourself under his dick, and lick his hole.

“Fuck” he gasps, pre leaks like a faucet from his tip as you lick and massage his rim. You get him wet with saliva and drool. It'd be better with lube, and you'll apologize for the dull ache that will come later, but you're able to slip in a finger. At first, Leona tenses at the intrusion, and then as you lick and wiggle your finger he relaxes and opens up for you. He melts into the chair, his cock twitching as you continue to stroke him off.

He's close, and you'd rather not get cum in your hair or on your face, so you keep fingering him as your mouth returns to his cock. You take him down your throat, and curl your finger towards his prostate.

“Fuck— fuck, oh god, cumming, gonna cum, ah,” his orgasm must've sneaked up on him, because that's all the warning you get before he's filling your mouth. He flutters around your finger, his hips weakly thrusting his cock further down your throat as he rides out his orgasm. You steal a glance up at him as you swallow his cum, and you know you're going to be committing his face to memory, and jacking off thinking about it later.

“Off,” he murmurs softly once he goes soft in your mouth. You let his cock out of your mouth slowly, gently pulling your finger from his ass.

“Good?” you check, doing him the favor of pulling his pants up. Leona wipes the sweat from his brow, nodding.

“Yeah, you were alright,” he states. You laugh (because you know damn well that was better than “alright”) getting to your feet. Leona immediately looks at your hard cock tenting your pants. You almost expect him to ask to return the favor, but he pulls his gaze away from you, and back to the chessboard.

“Your turn,” he mumbles.

With a smile, you sit back down in your chair, and think about everything and anything that'd make your erection go away.

It only takes a day for Leona to knock on your door. He looks slightly awkward, a little embarrassed, but not ashamed.

“Can I come in?” he asks. You step back to let him in. He's quiet for a good second, avoiding eye contact.

“I can't stop thinking about it,” he finally states.

“It” of course being your finger in his ass.

“Neither could I, when I first tried anal,” you admit, plopping yourself down on a chair in the living room. Leona follows you, sitting stiffly on a chair close to yours. His typical lazy attitude is all gone right now, and honestly it's a little unsettling.

“You've tried it?” He asks.

You give him a look, one that says “are you kidding?” without you ever having to say the words. Leona huffs, knowing the question was a dumb one.

“How 'm I supposed to know you bottom,” he mumbles to himself, then turns to you, trying (and failing) to look smug and confident, “can I fuck you?” His lack of tact makes you crinkle your nose with ire.

“No,” you pause for a moment, considering it, imagining it. Your cock twitches with interest. “Not yet at least. You've done enough of sticking your dick in holes,” and now Leona's looking more comfortable. He looks hungry, staring you down. You try not to think too hard about how that’s all this all started.

“Anyways,” you rest your head on your hand, looking him down, “aren't you here to get fucked?” He chokes on his spit,

“No,” he snaps, then swallows and looks away, “I mean, I don't know, maybe?” and then he's looking at you all hopeful. He's so cute it makes you want to scream.

“C'mere,” you pat your lap, testing him. Leona does as he's told, straddling you, clearly very unsure of himself. You can't have that.

You let one hand hold his thigh gently, as one goes to touch the spot behind his ear, the place you petted when he sucked you off and purred. That seems to calm him down a bit, and he looks at you expectantly.

“Listen, if you want this, that's alright, but you gotta stop pretending you're something you're not,” Leona bites his lip, “I don't want you acting like you don't want this.” He nods, understanding. He swallows heavily,

“I don't know what I am,” he confesses quietly, barely above a whisper, “I don't know, I just know I—” he nearly looks like he's going to bolt. “I just like you, and I like how you make me feel. I want this,” with a shaky breath he continues, “I want you to fuck me.” You give him a reassuring smile,

“That's all I needed to hear, sweetheart,” Leona visibly relaxes at the pet name, “you don't have to know what you are, or whatever, I just needed to hear you be honest with yourself,”

“Fuckin' corny,” he huffs, but he's smiling down at you, more relaxed than you've seen him in weeks. You think he needed to be honest with himself more than you needed to hear it. You squeeze his thigh and ignore his comment,

“I like you too, and I want to kiss you,” you add. Leona nods, leaning down to capture your lips. It's sweet, and you're grateful you're able to do this before you fuck him stupid.

He takes the lead, deepening the kiss by licking against your lips. You tug on his hair, pressing your tongue into his mouth, licking inside until the two of you are panting. When you pull back to get a good look at him, a string of saliva connects your mouths. Leona's pupils are blown wide, and his hands hold onto the front of your shirt.

“I couldn't stop thinking about your mouth,” he whispers, whimpering when your hand comes down from his head to cup his face. He leans into your touch, opening his mouth when you press your finger against his bottom lip.

It's astounding how much more eager and pliant he is now that he's open with how he feels. He wants you bad, and it's obvious.

“Tell me more,” you prompt, caressing his face as your other hand presses against the tent in the front of his pants.

“As soon as you left, I had to jerk off again. I—” he hiccups a moan, grinding into your touch, “I tried to put my fingers inside again, but it didn't feel the same. It was good, but not enough,” his claws dig into the fabric of your shirt.

“Cute,” you murmur, and Leona's eyes widen. You wonder if any of the girls he's slept with ever dared to call him cute before. “I wanna take my time with you,” Leona whines at this, shaking his head in protest, “hey,” you squeeze his cock roughly, and he keens, “I said I want to take my time with you, but I guess I'll go slow next time, because you're aching for it, huh darling?” you coo, teasing him. Leona nods all the same, letting out a purr at the promise of a next time.

“You've waited so long already, haven't you?” you murmur, tugging on the hem of his shirt. Leona practically tears it off for you. The hand that was on his face moves to play with one of his nipples as you kiss him again.

“Fuck me,” he demands, against your lips, “fuckin' please,” he adds, halfheartedly.

“Get undressed for me,” you help him off your lap, smirking at how he takes a moment to find the strength to stand, and leave him— with a kiss before you go of course— to grab condoms and lube. Before you know it, you're naked on the chair, with Leona in your lap, holding onto your shoulders, slightly digging his nails into your skin.

“Alright baby, lift your hips a bit,” you instruct, so you can slip your now lubed fingers between his cheeks. Leona does as he's told, sighing when you press your fingers against his hole.

“Gotta relax,” you remind him, moving his hair to the side so you can kiss at the place where his shoulder and neck meet. Leona wraps his arms further around your neck and slumps his weight against you, his cock hard and leaking against your abdomen.

“Yes,” he gasps as one finger slips past his tight ring of muscle and inside of him. “Yeah,” he moans, as it sinks deeper into him. You rub and press against his insides, and it's not long before you can slip in another finger.

“Ungh,’ he chokes when you scissor and fuck your fingers deeper into him, curling into his prostate, “yeah, yeah, more, fuck,” he babbles, grinding himself against your hand. His tail flicks from side to side, and he nuzzles into your skin, letting his canines graze your flesh as you stretch him open for your cock.

“Fuck me, I want it, I need it, please,” he whines once you get a third finger inside of him.

“Just a little longer,” you promise, feeling him rut and leak against your stomach. Leona growls, his patience running thin. You keep your word, and after a minute or so you slowly slip your fingers from him.

Leona sits back on your lap, quickly tearing open a condom and sliding it over your cock. He messily slathers lube along your shaft and then hoists himself up. With your help, your cock slides between his ass, and the tip presses against his hole.

“Let me know if it hurts,” you state, kissing his cheek gently. Leona purrs, lowering himself onto your cock. He cries out when the tip of your cock pops into him, and slides down fairly quickly onto your dick. He takes it like a champ, gasping and moaning like a bitch in heat as you fill him up.

“Oh my god,” he whispers once he's fully seated in your lap. You bite your lip, using every inch of energy to not thrust your hips up and fuck him. You let him adjust to the sensation.

Leona clings to you, panting, eyes wide. “Oh my god,” he whines again, “there's so much— it feels so— hah,” he buries his face into your shoulder, moaning your name, “move, please, fuck me,” he begs softly.

“Leona,” you moan, holding his hips gently and bucking your hips into him. Leona goes limp on top of you, which you expected. Part of you wishes you'd moved this to the bedroom, that you had him in missionary, or even doggy style instead, because fucking him like this is a lot of work. Luckily, you don’t think either of you will last long.

“You’re doing so well for me,” you pant, squeezing and massaging his hips, “taking me so good, like you’re made for takin’ my dick, baby,” Leona flutters around you, keening at that. He’s purring and moaning and drooling on your shoulder, taking all you give him.

It doesn’t take long at all for Leona. You wonder if he’ll be embarrassed about it later, but he cums within minutes, without warning, spilling all over your stomach with a weak moan of your name. You fuck him through it, and then still when he shivers. He moans, then whines, then finally groans,

“Don’t you dare fuckin’ take your cock out of me.” Your hips twitch at his words, and lust pools within your loins. You don’t know how long you sit like that, with Leona warming your cock, catching his breath.

“Keep fucking me,” it’s supposed to come off like a demand, but it sounds more like a plea. You obey, slowly fucking him, getting closer and closer to finishing. “Cum, inside of me, fuck me ‘til–” he chokes as your head brushes against his prostate, “until you’ve cum, fuck me,” he moans.

“Gonna-ah cum,” you murmur, as you fuck him faster with each thrust, chasing your orgasm. Leona whimpers,

“Please,” and it sends you over, lodging yourself deep inside of him and fucking your cum into the condom.

“Good?” you ask once your hips still and you find your voice again. Leona nods,

“Yeah, I guess,” he finally dislodges himself from your shoulder, leaning back and smiling at you, “I don’t know though. Maybe you should fuck me again so I can see if I really like it or not,” he flips his hair over his shoulder, and you’re half surprised he doesn’t wink to really sell the act he’s putting on.

“You’re lucky I like you,” you huff, slapping his thigh gently. Leona laughs, his nose scrunching up cutely. “Let me clean you up, and then I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll forget your name.”

Leona stops laughing at that, and instead licks his lips. “I’ll hold you to it,” he says gruffly, sealing the promise by leaning in and kissing you.

#cw internalized homophobia #cw situationship #bottom leona kingscholar #spice #daylight savings fucking saved me yall istg its the only reason i got possessed to write this much #the winter depression is over <3 spring and love is here #PLEASE let me know if this needs other warnings i think i caught everything but idk #dont think too much abt the title its just lyrics from a nin song bc i cant think of anything clever

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half-oz-eddie · 12 days

Text

The Straightest Guy In Hawkins

(Internalized) homophobia tw

"I'm gonna fuck so many bitches this summer." Billy bragged, as he lied on Steve's bed, tossing his baseball into the air.

"Uh huh..." Steve passively responded, continuing to work on their project.

"So many hot babes with big tits and—"

"Couldja shut up and help me with this project? God, You've been pissing me off lately."

"What'd you say? I'm pissing you off?!" Billy sprang up.

"Yeah. Ever since we went to your house to work on this stupid project and I saw that magazine, you've been going overboard to try and prove to me that you're super straight, the straightest guy in Hawkins." Steve rolled his eyes. "Y'know what? I don't care if you're straight, not straight, doesn't matter."

"Well I am straight." Billy pointlessly insisted.

"Good for you! I'm not, and I don't give a shit."

"You're...not?" Billy questioned in disbelief.

"No."

Billy chuckled in response. "Does daddy Harrington know you're a fa—"

"No!" Steve exclaimed. "He doesn't. And if I told him, I don't think he'd care. I don't think my parents even see me half the time, alright? So-so just drop it. Like I said, I don't give a shit if you like guys or girls or both or neither. I just wanna get this project done. We have 3 more days and a lot to do."

Silence filled the room. An uncomfortable, lonely silence. Billy froze. He wanted to speak up, be honest with Steve, but he knew being honest with Steve would lead to his haunting crush on him surfacing again.

"I'm...not." He blurted out. "I'm gay, actually."

Steve set down his pencil and turned his attention to Billy. "Does your dad know you're a—"

"No." He fearfully shook his head. "He'd kill me. Like...actually murder me. He already thinks I'm a failure. If he found out I was a gay failure, he'd probably beat me until I stopped moving."

"So...am I the only person who knows?"

Billy shrugged. "Aside from the 2 guys I've hooked up with."

"In Hawkins?"

"Nah, you're the only other queer I've met around here."

"There're others, trust me. You have options."

The silence returned again. Steve could sense that something was still troubling Billy.

"What is it? You worried I'll tell?"

"Not really...forget it. Let's finish the project."

"C'mon. Talk to me. You've already told me your deepest darkest secret, what could be worse than that?"

"The fact that there's...someone I like. But I can't see them because it runs the risk of my dad finding out."

"Who is it? I'll tell you if he's queer or not."

Billy gently shook his head.

"Is it Eddie? He's definitely queer, I know for a fact—"

"What?! No! ...Wait, you hooked up with Munson?" Billy wondered, shielding his jealousy.

"I—no, we...we kissed once at a party, during a drinking game, but there was tongue, and he was totally into it, so I'm pretty sure—"

"It's..." Billy sighed. "It's not him."

"Is it Jason?" Steve chuckled. "God, I hope not. That guy's probably straighter than you could ever pretend to be—"

"Not him either." Billy snapped. "Let's just finish the project, okay? I'm sorry for...pissing you off, or whatever."

Billy joined Steve at the table where they focused on nothing but the project.

"So I think...we just need to put a little more information in this paragraph so it's longer, and then we'll be done. Then we can type it up."

"Lemme see."

When Billy absentmindedly reached for the paper, his hand accidentally touched Steve's and he sharply pulled away.

"Sorry." He apologized.

Steve narrowed his eyes. "That's the second time you apologized to me."

"And?"

"And. You never apologize. What's up?"

Billy shook his head. "I'dunno what you're talkin' about."

"Billy—"

"Can it, Harrington. I'm trying to read this."

"You're not even looking at it!"

Billy slammed the paper down and stood suddenly, knocking the chair to the floor. "I'm going home."

"What?! You can't just leave, we didn't—"

"I'm tired of you questioning me. Now you're pissing me off."

Steve picked up the chair, watching disappointedly as Billy grabbed his jacket.

"I didn't mean to piss you off. I shouldn't have been pushing you so much about a touchy subject in the first place. It's my fault."

"It isn't."

"Huh?"

"I said it isn't!" Billy snapped. "See you tomorrow."

Steve slumped in his seat when he heard Billy's camaro skirt out of the driveway. Even though he apologized, he still wished he could do more for Billy.

The following day, Billy didn't even show up for school. Steve worried Billy was avoiding him completely, and began to worry about their incomplete project.

When he arrived home, Billy was already there, smoking a cigarette on his porch.

"Hope you're not ashing in my mom's rose bush." He said with a smile.

"Wouldn't dream of tainting Mrs. Harrington's precious roses." Billy sneered.

"Missed you at school today—well, I didn't mean like, I missed you, but—you were...you were missing."

"Had some shit on my mind, so I ditched today."

Steve opened his mouth to ask, but he knew that wouldn't be a smart idea. He'd probably just chase Billy off again.

"Ready to finish this project, then?"

Billy tossed his cigarette into the street. "Yeah, let's get it over with."

They finished the project in 40 minutes and Steve offered Billy a beer to celebrate.

"Think we're gonna get an A?"

"Pretty sure. We followed all the instructions to a T."

"Yeah. Yeah we did." Steve agreed.

"About yesterday, I'm—"

"No. Don't even bother trying to apologize. I'm the one who should be sorry."

"Oh yeah? For what?"

"I kept prodding into your business. I pushed you. I didn't mean to."

Billy shrugged. "'Kay, whatever."

"So, you accept my apology?"

"Will you cry if I don't?"

"Maybe." Steve answered with a pout.

Billy smiled. Not cynically, not mischievously, just...a smile. A pretty one, at that.

"Hey, listen. You wanna, like...hang out? Grab dinner, go to the movies, whatever?"

"You buying?"

"If I buy, it's a date."

"Then no." Billy declined. "Not interested."

"Not interested in a date?" Steve paused. "Or not interested in me?"

Billy leaned in, the once cute smile turning mischievous. "What makes you think you could pull a guy like me?"

Steve leaned in, but far closer. He licked his lips and smirked. "Wishful thinking, I guess." He half shrugged. "Hoping the guy you like could be me."

Billy bit his lip, his smile widening. He pulled Steve in by his collar and kissed him.

It was chaste and no words followed, but it spoke loudly enough to answer Steve's question.

"Pick me up tomorrow at 8. And don't let on that we're like...y'know. I don't need my dad to suspect anything."

"Don't worry. It'll be our little secret."

Steve stole another chaste kiss before Billy pulled away, leaving him hoping for more.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove fanfiction #ivy.doc

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jeridandridge · 3 months

Text

Atomic

Jacob takes Melissa to a gay bar.

CW: Implications of religious trauma, internalized homophobia.

In the break room at Abbott Melissa sits tapping her boot on the floor while Janine jabbers on about the newest situation she wants Barbara’s guidance on. While the kid goes on and on the redhead sits at the table looking over her shoulder every so often at Jacob.

The younger teacher sits at the table with Janine nervously nibbling his sandwich. No one wants Melissa Schemmenti looking at them like they have a target on their back that they don’t know about.

“What?!” He shrugs almost irritated looking at the redhead.

Melissa shakes her head going back to her phone. “Nothin, kid. Just uh, come to my room after the bell.” With that she grabs her stuff and goes back to her class for the afternoon.

Dropping his sandwich the young teacher looks to Barbra with an agape mouth. The older woman holds up her hand gathering her things.

“I don’t know a thing, Jacob.”

In her classroom, Melissa sits at her desk getting back to the grading she was doing before lunch. She has five minutes until she has to get her kids from the lunch room, and in those five minutes she has to talk herself out of a panic attack.

She doesn’t know why she’s this way but she hates it. Her thoughts run wild about the topic. She’s old. She’s divorced. She’s not as thin as she once was. Who could want her? Who could want her when she’s not sure what she wants. The cross around her neck feels like it weighs a ton, enough to pull her down and down further and further into her somber thought. The thoughts only stop when her watch chimes alerting her it’s time to get the kids from the lunch room.

At the end of the day Jacob contemplates shimmying down the side of the school from his window so he doesn’t have to go see Melissa. He paces back and forth before he finally gives in. “I’ll go, I’ll go, I’ll go!” He huffs grabbing his bag and leaving his room.

The young teacher is too nervous to even give Mr. Morton a fake friendly smile as the man says hello to him, too afraid for his own life. Keeping his shoulders back he holds onto the strap of his bag tightly as he pokes his head into the redheads classroom.

“What’s your deal over there?” Melissa nods looking up from her desk as Jacob looks side to side and up at the ceiling.

“Just checking, making sure there aren’t any traps or surprises.”

“What are you talkin about, kid?” She rolls her eyes, “I just wanna talk to ya.”

Noting the serious tone shift in her voice, he comes in leaning against the kids desk across from Melissa. He’d never seen her look nervous like she does now, fingers fidgeting and no eye contact.

“Melissa, whatever you need to say, you can and I appreciate you feeling comfortable enough to tell me.” He explains gently. In reality he expected her to snap at him and say forget it, instead the redhead lets out a breath and motions for him to come closer as she gets up closing her classroom door.

The two teachers are quiet as they both stand closer to each other. Melissa can feel her heart beating against her ribcage and she gathers up the courage.

“Listen kid, I might give ya a hard time and tease and all that, but I do respect you.” She tells the young man. “And I think you can help me figure some things out.”

Jacob, for once, is at a loss for words.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinkin, after breaking it off with Gary and all,” she waves her hand, “and I think I also like women.” She finally lets it out, feeling instantly better.

Jacob smiles at his co worker feeling honored.

“Well first off thank you for telling me this very personal, inspirational info. Saying something like that out loud, it feels good doesn’t it?”

“It actually does,” she smiles. “It feels airy. But I guess I just wanna know how to start. I mean, I ain’t young anymore and catholic guilt is a bitch.” She shrugs.

“Let me ask you this,” he starts, “Do you want to explore, and get to know the real Melissa?”

“Yeah,” she shrugs. “That’s the point ain’t It?”

Jacob has to hide his smile, grin growing on his face. “Tell you what, Zach and I are going out this weekend, nothing crazy, just a bar. Why don’t you come with us?”

Melissa tries to come up with an excuse, she really does, her stomach is in knots at just the thought of a gay bar.

“Okay, but we ain’t telling anyone about this.” She points at him in a warning.

“But what abou-“

“No one, kid.” She cuts him off shooting him a look.

Jacob nods comparing himself. “I’ll email you the details.”

Saturday comes all too quickly for Melissa. After a day of trying to distract herself with cleaning and cooking, her house is spotless and she has four different dishes in her fridge big enough to feed a small army and even that doesn’t slow the clock down.

At nine o’clock she finds herself walking arm in arm with Jacob to the bar, Zach the sweet guy he is, behind them.

“Honey! They’re doing karaoke already!” He smiles looking over at the crowded karaoke stand in the corner.

Melissa looks around the dimly lit bar, spotting black lights, rainbows, and plenty of decor on the walls.

“Go on, honey, I’m sticking with Melissa tonight.” Jacob squeezes his hand before Zach goes off with a smile.

Melissa stands with her hand on her hip, her leather jacket, her armor not even able to give her the confidence she needs. feeling totally out of place in a bar like this not because it’s a gay bar, but because everyone’s so young she pats Jacob’s arm. “G’head, kid. I’ll be at the bar.”

If there’s one thing Melissa knows it’s where to find a nice bourbon or a crisp glass of wine. When Melissa saddles up to the bar she quirks a brow at the pretty woman behind it, toned arms on display and long hair in a pony tail.

“Hi gorgeous, what can I get for ya?” The bartender gives Melissa a smile that makes her stomach flip. The redhead knows how it works, she bartended in college herself, she knows bartenders flirt to get more tips.

“Bourbon neat, hon.” She orders with a friendly smiles.

Grabbing a glass the bartender fixes her drink sliding it over. “So, are you friends with Jacob? I saw you come in with him and I’ve never seen you before.” She smiles.

“You know Jacob?” Melissa quirks a brow, “That Jacob over there?”

“Yeah,” the bartender laughs with a nod. “Jacob Hill. We’re friends, sorta.”

“I give him crap, but he’s a good kid.” Melissa nods. “I’m surprised he’s friends with a,” she trails off looking at the woman, “toned, tattooed, twenty something.”

The bartender tips her head back in a laugh, leaning forward with her arms on the bar to get closer. “Thirty something actually. This is my bar.” She smiles. “What about you, gorgeous? How do you know Jacob?”

There’s that word again. It’s catches her off guard once more and this time the stunning woman is even closer, a warm, raspberry vanilla smell hits her nose. Suddenly the blaring music and the sounds of glasses clanking and chairs moving become too much on top of her thoughts.

“Woah, hey, you okay?” The bartender asks gently resting her hand on the redhead’s.

At the touch of the woman’s hand Melissa pulls away almost like a flame has grazed her skin.

“Sorry, sorry,” she shakes her head, “I’m-“

“Don’t sweat it,” the bartender smiles. “Hey maya!” She calls over her shoulder, “cover the bar for me. You, come with me,” she waves Melissa over as she comes out from behind the bar.

Melissa stands and follows the woman, almost drooling when she sees the tightest jeans known to mankind.

The bartender reaches back gently grabbing her hand. “I don’t normally do this, but since you’re Jacob’s friend I’ll make an exception,” she smiles leaning in towards Melissa’s ear.

Melissa’s breath hitches in her throat at the closeness of the woman. Through a hallway the woman opens up an office door revealing a pretty normal room with a few posters and a pride flag on the wall behind a desk.

“It can be a little too rowdy out there,” the bartender smiles handing her a cold water bottle from the fridge.

Sitting on a black leather couch Melissa sips the water hearing a muffled Blondie song from the outside, the beat almost as fast as her heart drumming against her ribcage.

She eyes the bartender who sits at her desk, arms above her head in a stretch.

“Sorry, hon. It’s been a weird time recently.” Melissa apologizes.

“No need to an apologize, gorgeous. I’m a bartender, I might as well be a therapist.” She jokes. “If you weren’t Jacob’s friend I wouldn’t have brought you back here to my secret lair.”

This gets a laugh out of Melissa. “Some lair, it’s not dark and mysterious or anything. And you don’t have to keep calling me that. I’m Melissa.” She finally shares.

“Nah, I’ll still call you gorgeous.” She smiles yet again, making Melissa’s heart jump. Sipping the water she shakes her head.

“I knew it’d be a gamble coming here.” She sighs. “I can’t even handle talking to a woman.” This makes the bartender frown.

“First time in a gay bar?” She asks, not a single note of judgement in her voice.

“Yeah,” Melissa nods. “Jacob convinced me to come even though I’m noneya business years too old to be here.”

The bartender sits back in her desk chair almost examining the redhead, making Melissa shift in her seat. She knows the woman sees right through her, soft eyes meeting hers.

“You know, one night I was here, it was a Tuesday,” the bartender starts softly, “There wasn’t much happening yet, it wasn’t even seven, and this old woman comes in with her great granddaughter. They both take a seat at the bar so I come over like always, and we start talking. The woman was 93 years old and you know what she said to me?”

Melissa sits with a small smile playing on her lips as she listens closely, shaking her head no, enthralled by the story.

“She said she just turned 93 and finally, after decades, had the courage to be her authentic self. Isn’t that beautiful?”

The question makes Melissa think. Really think. All her life she did her best to please others, stuck with tradition, and did her best to make her family proud despite trying to go against the grain as best she could.

“Yeah, it is beautiful.” She hums quietly parting her lips to speak again, only to be interrupted by the door opening.

“Hey, boss the ice machine is jammed again.” The other bartender pokes her head in.

“Alright,” the woman sighs, “I’ll be there in a minute.”

When the door closes again Melissa stands up, following the woman back into the hall towards the music and crowd.

“Listen, I’m pretty new at this sorta thing,” Melissa says shyly, not like herself. “But I’d like to talk to you more, get coffee or dinner sometime? doesn’t have to mean anything.” She adds quickly.

The bartender gives her a soft smile, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “When you’re ready, Melissa, you know where to find me.”

With a wink and a gentle squeeze, Melissa’s left standing in the doorway of the hall with a ridiculous smile on her face watching the woman spring into action.

She’d have to thank Jacob.

#we need more Melissa x Jacob content ok #melissa schemmenti x jacob hill #melissa schemmenti x reader #abbott elementary #lisa ann walter #melissa schemmenti x you

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queer-ragnelle · 5 months

Note

favorite queer retellings/interpretations of arthurian legend

hello anon!

this simple question has a complicated answer if only bc some authors seem to have created queer stories unintentionally! & i like them! i'll include quotes from my suggestions below a cut as there will be some mild spoilers but that may help you decide what stories suit your tastes as they vary a lot. you can also just go ahead & assume kay & agravaine are always queer (bc they are, not accepting crit) which makes narrowing down the list difficult for me.

TL;DR: Camelot 3000 Mike W. Barr & Brian Bolland, Exiled From Camelot/Trial of Sir Kay/Hunt for Hart Royal by Cherith Baldry, Spear Nicola Griffith, Guinevere/Morgan/Morgawse by Lavinia Collins, The Queen's Knight by Marvin Borowsky, Arthur Rex by Thomas Berger, The Road to Avalon by Joan Wolf.

Camelot 3000 by Mike W. Barr & Brian Bolland: reincarnation story with transman sir tristan coming to terms with his gender & sexuality so he can accept isolde's love for him & reciprocate. it's really beautifully written imo plus the art is so 80s & my exact cup of tea. it's dated in some of its handling of the subject matter but i think it was done thoughtfully for the time.

Exiled From Camelot, The Trial of Sir Kay, The Hunt for The Hart Royal by Cherith Baldry: the way baldry writes is overall my favorite ever but her kay is unparalleled he is everything to me. unequivocally disinterested in women (without misogyny, very important note). codependent on gawain if not fully in love with him the crown style. lots of hurt/comfort, kissing, holding & worrying over each other. they exchange a ring for god's sake. in exiled it says ragnelle was the only woman for gawain (based) but after she passed he's all kay's basically so this checks all my boxes. love wins.

Spear by Nicola Griffith: butch perceval pulling bitches chapter after chapter it's glorious. ends up settling down with nimue. bonus throuple arthur/guin/lance with a very sweet moment with lance talking to percy about them both. no homophobia (external nor internal) to be found its very enjoyable. beautiful prose. audiobook was wonderfully narrated by the author, which is how i read it, thus i've written out a quote here:

"Secrets may prove a burden. So...Lance, my mother is indeed Merlin's sister but I am not Merlin's sister's son." Lance frowned. "I don't understand..." "I am not his sister's son." His eyes stretched wide. He reassessed the line of her jaw, the size of her hands. She nodded. Then he reassessed how she and Nimue sat with one another. This time, Nimue nodded.

Guinevere, Morgan, & Morgawse by Lavinia Collins: these aren't my favorite (did gawain really dirty, deal breaker) but the fact is they have multiple explicitly queer characters including: kay, lancelot, morgawse, agravaine, isolde, dinadan, etc. plus there were several poly scenes including one with guin/lance/kay, another morgawse/lot/visiting king/queen swinging. wild all around everyone is sleeping with everyone no character is unaccounted for. be warned these books are extremely graphic in every conceivable way. queer solidarity in the face of homophobia is a theme throughout. kay punches phobic urien & agravaine "saw nothing." shh its fine urien sucks. this hilarious convo between agravaine & morgawse kills me.

The Queen's Knight by Marvin Borowsky: an interesting retelling in which mordred is a grown up warlord right from the outset. he also happens to be queer. mind this came out in the 50s & contains pederasty, but mordred does later have a loving tragic relationship with fellow knight calogrenant (yay crackships<3), which others were aware of & helped conceal (kay, for example). agravaine is also queer, he only joins arthur's forces bc lancelot asks him to & continues to fixate on him for the whole book. typical.

Arthur Rex by Thomas Berger: so this book is super homophobic. but it's so homophobic that it circles back around to being pretty queer bc berger saw queerness everywhere, apparently. but the green knight is purposefully queer, so the kissing game's gender-role-reversal/bisexuality....escalates. david lowery wishes. both gawain & arthur are pretty homoromantic with lancelot to the point the narrative calls attention to it & then no-homos their closeness. agravaine appears to be queer too. he's the only unmarried brother (claims to be in love with guinevere but i don't buy it), he wants lancelot so bad he gets all tongue tied & stupid around him...wrecked.

The Road to Avalon by Joan Wolf: what's this? agravaine again? so in this version, lancelot is named bedwyr (inspired by mary stewart's quadrilogy) but he's lance in all but name. anyway agravaine constantly beefs with guinevere for his attention...& loses. plus it's implied agravaine slept with lamorak before his mother which is hysterical. (my fave crackship is thriving<3) agravaine topples the empire for a much older straight man. it would be funny if it wasn't so sad. let's give it up for problematic jealous slutty queers.

these are just the retellings i have read & liked. there are more on my retellings list but those were suggestions from others i haven't gotten to yet with the exception of dishonorable mention to the winter knight by jes battis. it has gay gawain & his bestie transgirl bi kay in that but the writing style was unbearable to me unfortunately i'm so sorry i just didn't like it. anyway thanks for the ask!

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