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#which is why i was like hey i need to catch up
wosomaanum · 1 day
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Just In Time | Frida Maanum
Summary: You and Frida decide to go to a party where not everything goes to plan
Warnings: creepy people, homophobia, alcohol, party things yk
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You and Frida are getting ready in your shared apartment, the scent of her favorite vanilla body spray mingling with the faint sound of indie music playing in the background. Frida stands in front of the mirror, adjusting her earrings, while you fuss with the shirt. She catches your eye in the reflection, offering a reassuring smile.
"Ready to go?" she asks, her eyes twinkling with excitement.
"Yeah, let's do this," you reply, taking her hand as you head out the door.
The walk to the party is filled with light conversation and laughter, Frida's presence always a source of comfort and joy. When you arrive, the house is already buzzing with energy, music pumping through the walls, and groups of people scattered around, talking and dancing.
“Wow, it’s crowded in here.” You state, a hint of uncertainty present in your voice.
“It is. Just stay close yeah?” Frida replies, her thick Norwegian accent peaking through.
“Don’t worry, nothings going to happen.” You reply, you weren’t sure if you were trying to reassure Frida or yourself.
“Darling, I know you can handle yourself. I’d much rather be safe than sorry. Just let me know roughly where you’re gonna go and remember: you have a phone for a reason.” She stays, matter of factly.
“Right. I’m just gonna go to the toilet then alright? Love you.” You kiss Frida on the cheek offering her a smile to what she exchanges cutely.
On your way to the bathroom, you decide to take a look in the kitchen to scout out the drinks. You were by no means a drinker but you knew Frida was the designated driver. Which meant two things:
1. You could get tipsy
2. You could only get tipsy. Not flat out drunk. Or Frida would be on your back.
The kitchen is packed, but you manage to find a spot near the counter. As you pour yourself a drink (okay, just a quick one), a guy you don’t recognise sidles up next to you. He's taller than you, with an overly confident smirk plastered on his face.
"Hey there," he says, leaning in a bit too close for comfort. "I haven't seen you around here before. Can I get you another drink?"
"No, thanks. I'm good," you reply, trying to keep your tone polite but firm. You were already feeling tipsy by now as you had spontaneously chugged down two solo cups worth. You knew Frida would be scolding you later - but that didn’t matter right now.
He doesn't take the hint, instead stepping even closer. "Come on, just one drink. What's the harm?"
You glance around, hoping to spot Frida, but she's still across the room, chatting with some friends. "I said no, thanks," you repeat, more forcefully this time.
The guy's smirk fades slightly, but he doesn't back off. "Don't be like that. I'm just trying to be friendly."
You try to step away, but he blocks your path, his presence becoming more oppressive. "Seriously, I don't want a drink," you say, louder this time, hoping someone nearby will notice.
His eyes narrow slightly, and he leans in even closer, his breath hot on your ear. "Why are you being such a prude? I'm just being nice."
Panic starts to bubble up inside you, your heart racing as you try to push him away. "Leave me alone," you demand, your voice trembling.
He chuckles, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "Relax, I'm not going to bite. Just trying to have a conversation. What's your name?"
You take a step back, trying to put some distance between you. "It's none of your business," you snap, hoping to sound more confident than you feel.
He rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed. "No need to be so rude. I'm just asking a simple question."
"Look, I'm here with someone," you say, trying a different tactic. "I'm not interested."
"Oh, come on," he says, his tone turning condescending. "Whoever it is, they can't be that great if they left you alone. Just one drink, and if you still want me to leave, I will."
You shake your head, backing up further. "I already told you, I'm not interested. Please, just leave me alone. And don’t insult my girlfriend.”
His expression darkens, and he steps forward again, ignoring your plea. "You know, you're making this a lot harder than it needs to be."
"I don't care," you snap, louder this time, hoping the raised volume will attract someone's attention. "I said no. Now back off."
He laughs, a harsh, mocking sound that sends a shiver down your spine. "Feisty, I like that. Come on, just one drink. It's not going to kill you."
Desperation starts to creep in as you look around the room, searching for a familiar face. "I'm not interested," you repeat, your voice shaking with anger and fear. "Why can't you just take no for an answer?"
"Because I'm not used to hearing it," he replies smugly. "You're not going to find anyone better than me here, so why not just give it a shot?"
You glance around again, feeling trapped. "Look, you're making me really uncomfortable. Please, just go away."
"Uncomfortable?" he scoffs. "I'm just talking to you. You don't have to be so dramatic."
"I'm not interested because I'm here with my girlfriend," you say, hoping that will make him back off.
His expression changes, a sneer spreading across his face. "Oh, so you're one of those. That explains a lot."
"Did I not already tell you that? And, What do you mean by that?" you ask, feeling a surge of anger mix with your fear.
"Just that it makes sense why you're so uptight," he says, leaning in closer again. "Trying to play the victim, huh? You think you're too good for a guy like me because you like girls?"
"That's none of your business," you say firmly, trying to keep your voice steady. "Just leave me alone."
"Come on, don't be like that," he says, his voice dripping with condescension. "Maybe you just haven't been with the right guy yet."
"Back off," you say, louder now, hoping someone will notice and intervene.
"What's going on here?" Frida's voice cuts through the tension, her tone calm but authoritative. She walks up, her eyes immediately assessing the situation. Sliding her arm around your waist, she fixes the guy with a steady gaze. "Is there a problem?"
The guy looks between the two of you, clearly irritated. "We were just talking," he says, attempting to brush off the situation.
Frida tightens her hold on you, her eyes not leaving his. "It didn't look like she wanted to talk," she says calmly but firmly. "She told you to leave her alone."
"Mind your own business," he snaps, his bravado faltering slightly under Frida's intense gaze.
Frida maintains her calm demeanor, her voice unwavering. "She is my business. If she asked you to leave her alone, you should respect that."
He hesitates, clearly not used to being challenged. "Look, I'm not trying to start anything. Just having a conversation," he says, his tone trying to sound reasonable but failing.
Frida's expression softens slightly as she addresses him again. "Look, she clearly doesn't want to continue this conversation. Let's all just move on and enjoy the party, okay?"
"Whatever," he mutters, but he doesn't move.
Frida remains calm, her grip on you firm but gentle. "Did you not hear her? She's not interested. Leave us alone."
The guy's face flushes with anger and embarrassment. "I just don't get you people," he says, his voice rising. "Always playing the victim card. Maybe if you weren't such prudes, you'd see how stupid this all is."
"Excuse me?" Frida's voice remains calm, but there's an edge to it now. "What did you just say?"
"You heard me," he snaps, his bravado returning. "You lesbians always think everyone's out to get you. Maybe if you tried being normal for once, you wouldn't have these problems."
Frida takes a deep breath, her eyes never leaving his. "We're not the problem here. You are. We're here to have a good time, just like everyone else. If you can't handle that, maybe you should leave."
"Oh, I'm the problem now?" he scoffs. "You two are just asking for trouble, flaunting your lifestyle in everyone's faces."
"Enough," Frida says, her voice firm but controlled. "This conversation is over. Leave us alone."
He glares at both of you, clearly frustrated. "Fine, whatever. You're not worth the trouble." He turns and stalks off into the crowd, disappearing from view.
You let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding and turn to Frida, who is watching you with concern.
"You okay?" she asks, brushing a strand of hair from your face.
"Yeah, thanks. He just wouldn't take a hint," you reply, leaning into her touch.
"I know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to deal with that and I’m sorry I didn’t get to you quicker. Let's get out of here," Frida suggests softly. "This place is too crowded anyway and you need to get home before it’s dark."
You nod, grateful for her suggestion. She keeps an arm around you as you both navigate through the throng of people and out into the cooler night air. The drive home is quieter, but Frida's presence beside you is as comforting as ever.
When you reach your apartment, she unlocks the door and lets you in first, her protective instincts still in high gear. Inside, you kick off your shoes and collapse onto the couch, feeling the tension of the evening finally start to fade.
Frida sits next to you, her hand resting on your knee. "You sure you're okay?" she asks again, her eyes searching yours.
"I'm fine now," you assure her, taking her hand in yours. "Thanks for stepping in. I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't."
"Anytime," she says with a soft smile. "You know I've got your back."
You lean against her, feeling safe and loved. The party might not have been what you expected, but having Frida by your side makes everything better.
“I can’t believe he said all that. I know I was tipsy but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out his intentions, in fact I think the ‘prude’ may have done it.”
“It’s best not to think about it hey. He was a total dickhead but I’m just glad your safe that’s the most important thing. Let’s just calm down now and we can talk more in the morning if need be. I’m here for you, you know that.”
The rest of the evening is spent in the comfort of your apartment, wrapped up in each other. Frida makes sure you're okay, periodically checking in with gentle touches and reassuring words. She walks you through your feelings, letting you vent about the guy and how he made you feel, always listening intently.
As the night grows later, she suggests you both watch a movie to distract from the earlier ordeal. You agree, and soon you're cuddled up on the couch, the soft glow of the TV casting a warm light over the room. Frida holds you close, her arms wrapped around you.
————-
You wake up the next morning encased by Frida’s strong arms. You both stir awake.
“You know, now that you are feeling better, I think we better discuss you downing two vodkas eh?”
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The Obession: Part 1
CW: feedism, kidnapping, force fem, corruption, force feeding, weight gain, intox, masochism, sadism, assualt? probably more idk. Not for the faint of heart
Ever since I saw you in the restaurant that fateful night I knew I was obsessed with you. I saw you order an appetizer, a big juicy burger and a dessert all for yourself. It was a lot for you, and by the end of the meal you unbutton your pants and cover that with your hoodie. You thought nobody noticed but I did. Even though you were full, I could see you trying to choke down a couple more bites of your dessert.
I had to know more about you. Even though I wasn’t done with my food, I took my check so I could wait for you in the parking lot. It was easy to follow you home without being noticed. Even if I lost you, the bumper stickers on your car made you easy to find again. Eventually, I saw the lights go out in your window. I waited an hour to make sure that you were asleep before I made my move.
I had a whole plan: I was going to plant a track device on your car, search the exterior for potential openings, see what type of locks you use so I can pick them, and maybe catch a glimpse of you sleeping before I left. But you had different plans for me. 
You left your front door unlocked.
I guess this was my chance. There was a pause after I opened the door to wait for an alarm to sound. Your house was messy, which made it difficult to sneak around without knocking stuff over but I was able to make my way to the room in the house that I saw had the light on earlier. The door creaks as I slowly open the door.
“Wait…is someone there?” I hear you say from your room. Shit, you were still awake. Do I make a run for it and potentially miss my chance? No, there’s no way I’d be able to do this again. It had to be now. 
I opened the door and turned on the light, but I wasn’t expecting what I saw. You were naked on your bed with a half empty gallon of ice cream under one arm and your other arm was stroking your fat cock. The room reeked of weed, which probably came from the bong on the nightstand. There was ice cream all over you chin and belly from you making a mess then rubbing your stuffed gut. It took a second before your hazy mind processed what was happening, but after a few moments, the fear set in over your face.
I knew you were perfect. I knew I was right about you. I pounced on you, putting you into a sleeper hold so I could knock you out since there wasn’t time to prepare chemicals to incapacitate you. I’m not sure you fully understood what I was doing to you as your consciousness slipped, but all you knew was you were in danger.
You wake up in a dark room, still completely naked and sore all over. Your arms are bound above your head with a soft cloth. It seems like you’re sitting on a sofa of some kind with your legs spread and bound to the floor, exposing your crotch.
Click
The lights flicker on followed by the sound of footsteps walking down stairs.
“Hey, how are you feeling?”
“Who are you!? What do you want from me? Why did you take me?”
“Well, who I am isn’t important. All you need to know is that I’m here to take of you. What I want is to help you. And why you? I think you may be the only person that could handle what I’m about to do to you.” I walk into your field of view for the first time. You can see that I’m holding several bags of fast food.
You gulp, “What are you going to do to me?” I take a burger out of the bag and put it in your face.
“I’m here to help you. Now eat. I’ve seen you eat, you love to stuff yourself past your limits. Now eat you fat fucking pig.”
“No you sicko, I’m not going along with this!” you try to headbutt me but your bindings hold you back. You squirm trying desperately to escape. “HELP!! SOMEBODY HELP MEEE!!!” I grab you by the throat and slam you back into the couch to keep you from screaming.
“Things will be easier if you’re a good girl. If you’re a bad girl, there will be consequences.”
“But I’m a guy…” you manage to squeak out.
“Not for long.” I tell you and release my grip around your throat. You bend over coughing trying to catch your breath. I walk away and come back carrying a tube with a funnel and a tub of some mysterious white liquid. 
“This is what happens when you disobey.” I say, as I grab your face and force your mouth open with my fingers. Then I stick the tube down your throat so that it goes straight to your stomach. I pour the liquid down the funnel and you can feel your stomach slowly start to expand.
“This mix is good for you. It’s a combination of heavy cream, cannabutter, estrogen, some flavored syrups, and a little bit of my cum. This is going to make that belly of yours nice and fat.” Tears start running down your face as your belly grows so round and tight that it’s painful. I wipe the tears from your face and use the tears as lube to start rubbing your cock. I gently kiss your bloated belly and start to feel your cock getting hard. I set down the funnel but leave the tube dangling from your throat.
I kiss your hard cock, first at the tip, then I lick up and down before swallowing you whole. You’re still crying, but I can feel how hard your cock is throbbing. You try to moan but it’s muffled by the tube in your mouth. It doesn’t take long for you to cum. I take the tube out from your throat, and as you're gasping for air, I kiss you with my tongue so I can spit your cum into your mouth.
I shove my face in your armpit and sniff. “You have a certain scent when you’re afraid. It’s intoxicating,” a say before giving your armpit a lick and quietly moan in your ear. “As much as I hate to have that smell leave, one day you’ll trust me. I’m going to turn you into my obese little girlfriend. I know I’m being harsh right now, but I know you’re a good girl and you’ll do just fine.”
“But I’m not a …” I slap you across the face. 
“Yes you are. You are now.” I stand up. “I’m going upstairs for a minute, I’ll be back in about 30 minutes when the drugs kick in so we can start again.”
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envysparkler · 1 day
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Dick was off-shift, doing a handstand in the artificial gravity of their spaceship and dodging the magnets Raven was tossing at him, when the door slid open.
“Hey,” Roy said, catching the magnet Raven flicked at him, “Donna wants to talk to you.  She’s piloting.”
Dick eased down and straightened the right way up, pausing for a moment to let his blood flow correct itself.  “Everything okay?”
“Urgent but not an emergency,” Roy shrugged, and tossed the magnet at Raven.  “Target practice, Rae?”
Dick slipped out as they set up—it was week three of ten on their long mission, and the novelty of deep space had worn out into boredom.  Luckily, they’d managed to stave off a lot of the stir-crazy by continuously organizing activities to keep everyone engaged.  Dick passed the kitchen and managed a smile for Kori, who was doing…something in a pot on the stove.
Some of those activities yielded better results than others.
Putting the thought of experimental Tamaranean cooking out of his head, Dick made his way to the cockpit, which was empty of everyone but Donna.  “What’s up, Wonder Girl?” Dick smiled, dropping into the co-pilot’s chair and swiveling to face his friend.  “If they’re plotting a mutiny in response to Kori’s cooking, I have to say that you’re on your own, co-captain.”
Donna didn’t laugh.  She didn’t quirk her lips in a smile and tease back, or even roll her eyes in the expression she reserved for Dick.  She looked grave and solemn, something indescribably sad in her eyes.  She looked like she’d just been crying.
“Donna?” Dick said, slower.  “What happened?”  Something had to have happened.  Was the ship in danger?  Their mission?  But then why wouldn’t she declare an emergency?  Was everyone okay?  Did they need to do a role call?  They should—
“Dick,” Donna said, voice hoarse, “We got a call from the Watchtower.”  Dick stared at her.  They had one long-distance comm.  It was supposed to be for emergencies only.  “They—Superman—” Donna swallowed and looked down.  Her hands were trembling.
“Something happened on Earth.”  Dick didn’t recognize his own voice.  He was sinking, and everything was cold.  “What happened, Donna?”
Now that he was checking the instruments, he realized that they were slowing down.  A preparation for a course correction.  To head back.
“Donna, what happened?” he asked, louder.  His voice echoed in the cockpit.  Who, he couldn’t force past his lips.  The faces of everyone he loved flashed by.
Donna raised her gaze.  Tears dripped down her face.  “I’m so sorry, Dick,” she said, voice cracking.  “There was—an incident.  Robin is dead.”
~#~
Dick didn’t hear her.  He couldn’t have heard her.  There was a rushing noise loud enough to drown out the whole world.  He stared at her, waiting for her to speak, willing her to speak.
Donna looked at him, crying, and Dick realized his own cheeks were wet.
~#~
“No.”  Harsh and guttural and broken, and it didn’t sound like his own voice.
~#~
“It has—he’s fifteen—it has to be a mistake.”
“I’m sorry, Dick,” Donna extended her arms and Dick couldn’t help but clutch them, the world reeling, desperate for her to tell him that this was just a dream.
“I—no—not Jason—”
“I’m sorry,” Donna whispered, over and over and over again, as Dick collapsed in her arms and sobbed.
~#~
It felt like something in his heart was gone.  It was just—hollow, and nothing he did could fill the void.
~#~
“Superman,” Dick managed to force out, voice hoarse.  There was a long pause on the other end.  “Any updates?”
“No,” Superman said, voice soft and quiet.  “Nothing new, Nightwing.”
How, Dick wanted to ask.  What happened?  When, who was involved, how could you let my little brother die—
“Batman?” he asked.  He wasn’t sure if it was a request or a question.
“He’s,” Superman hesitated, “he’s not—he’s not taking it well.”  Taking it well.  Taking the death of his son well.  “Physically he’s fine, but mentally—it’s not good.”
Bruce knew grief.  Dick knew grief.  They both knew what it felt like to watch your whole world destroyed in an instant.
But the death of a parent and the death of a child were two very different things.
“We’re heading back.  Could you send out a shuttle to intercept us?” Dick asked as levelly as he could manage.  “The rest of the Titans will continue on their mission.”  They all offered to go back with him, but they still had missions to complete.  Responsibilities that couldn’t be abandoned.
Dick had responsibilities too, a duty to the Titans.  But he’d been Robin first, and he needed to go home.
“Of course, Nightwing,” Superman said.  “And if there’s—if there’s anything we can do to help, please let us know.”
There was only one thing Dick wanted right now, and it was impossible.
“Signing off,” Dick said dully, and closed the connection.
Jason was dead.  Jason was dead.  Jason was dead.
The world already seemed dimmer.
~#~
Martian Manhunter was the one who came to pick him up.  An unsubtle way of monitoring his mental state, but Dick didn’t care.
J’onn didn’t ask him to talk.  Didn’t ask him how he was feeling.  Didn’t say a single word.
Just looked at him with soft, sad empathy as Dick curled up in a corner of the ship and cried.
~#~
Clark and Diana were waiting when the shuttle docked.  Great.  Dick hopped free and brushed past them.  They didn’t try to stop him, but they did fall in step beside him.  “How was the journey?” Diana asked softly.
“Fine,” Dick replied, clipped.  He didn’t know.  He hadn’t been paying attention.  All he could think about was Jason.
“Dick…” Diana said slowly and Dick spun around.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Dick said.  His throat was already growing tight.  “I just want to go home.”
The Manor hadn’t been home in years, but the words felt right in his mouth.
“Okay,” Clark said, voice painfully soft, “Let us know if we can help with anything.”
Dick wordlessly nodded and turned away, intent on getting to the zeta.  And then he stopped.  “Actually,” Dick said slowly, “there is one thing.”
A question he didn’t want to ask Bruce or Alfred.  Dick turned to look Superman in the eyes.
“How did it happen?”
~#~
The Batcave seemed…darker than it had before.  There were shadows clinging to shadows, a miasma of emptiness that coiled around him.  The very temperature seemed colder than it was when he’d left.
There was a single, solitary figure in the Batcave, a hunched, crouched, dark outline that didn’t twitch at the sound of the zeta or Dick’s footsteps.  He was sitting in front of a uniform case and Dick had to press his lips together when he realized what it contained.  The fabric was torn and bloodstained and covered in soot and Dick stopped in his tracks as his mind filled in the gaps.
Clark’s description of events had been sanitized, he knew that, but there were enough details to match to every rip and stain on the Robin suit.
He couldn’t suppress the wrenching sob.
Bruce turned at that, looking up with wet eyes as Dick approached and practically collapsed to his knees next to Bruce.  That suit belonged to his little brother.  That suit belonged to his dead little brother.  Dick splayed a hand on the glass case, the wall separating him from the last remnants of Robin.
Dick hadn’t been…pleased with Bruce giving Jason Robin.  They’d had several arguments over the topic, all carefully out of Jason’s earshot.  But Dick had never denied that Jason had been magic, had been the brightness and light Robin needed, and he’d given his blessing for his little brother to take up his mantle.
The mantle that had gotten him killed.
This is my fault, he didn’t say out loud.  Without him, there would’ve never been a Robin.  Without him, Jason would’ve been at home.  Without him, Jason would’ve never met the Joker.
He didn’t need to say it out loud.  When he turned to look at Bruce, he could see the heart-wrenching guilt on his face as well, as clear as day.  “He’s gone,” Bruce said in a cracking voice.  The expression on his face was something Dick had never seen before, somewhere between distraught and shattered.  “He’s gone.”
Dick swallowed against the lump in his throat and leaned against Bruce’s side.  The older man collapsed against him at that first touch, clutching Dick like he never wanted to let go, like he was terrified Dick was going to leave him too.
“It’s okay,” Dick said hollowly, even though it was the furthest thing from okay.  “It’s okay.”
Every time he closed his eyes he could see Jason’s smile.  Not his normal smile.  A Joker smile.
~#~
Alfred was not a hugging sort of person.  Dick had figured that out about two days after meeting him—he could use Bruce as a jungle gym, could clamber on top of him and catch him with flying hugs because Bruce would never say no but he’d also never ask—but not Alfred.  Never Alfred.
Dick made it up the stairs, throat scratchy and face wet, and peeked into the kitchen to see if Alfred was there.  The moment the old butler saw him, he took a heaving, shuddering breath, and walked across the room to wrap Dick in the tightest hug he’d ever gotten.
“You’re here,” Alfred said in a tone of voice Dick never wanted to hear him use again.  “You’re home.”
You’re alive, Dick heard as he wrapped his arms around the man he considered a grandfather.  You’re alive.
~#~
They’d buried him before Dick had gotten back.  Small funeral, which Alfred had arranged, because Bruce was stuck deep within the spires of grief and had taken to haunting the Manor like he was the ghost.  Just a few members of the League, Commissioner Gordon, some of the people Jason had known from his projects at the Wayne Foundation.
“Hey, Little Wing,” Dick said, settling down on the grass.  The headstone had already arrived, marking Jason’s place next to his mother’s.  The Wayne family plot in Gotham Cemetery.  “Sorry I’m late.”
He could imagine Jason’s quip to that.  Jason’s smile.  The way he threw his head back and shrieked with laughter whenever he found something genuinely funny.
Dick touched his cheek, and it came back wet.
“I’m sorry, Jaybird,” Dick choked out, “Oh, gods, I’m so sorry.”
He was never going to hear that laugh again.
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okiedokrie · 3 days
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Epiphany // Want Me - Chapter 1
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Summary: Jeonghan is more than a little upset at Joshua at the moment. He's getting tired of waiting for him, too impatient and stubborn to realize what he has in front of him. Jeonghan takes his frustrations out by having fun. And maybe, he'll enjoy it with the company of a new friend.
Characters/Pairing(s): Yoon Jeonghan x Fem!Reader
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Suggestive
AUs/Trope info: Non-Idol!AU, Poly!AU, Strangers to Friends to Lovers
Word Count: 2319
Warnings: drinking, cussing, descriptions of non-sexual nudity
Rating: 18+
A/N: banners by @kwanisms
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Loud bar music beats in sync with Jeonghan's heart, shockwaves coursing through his body, and the vibrations calm him down. 
It's been exactly 56 hours since that conversation with Joshua by the window, and he's still a little pressed over the fact that Joshua is taking a bit too long to catch up with him. In their 10 years of friendship, many things have changed already. Like the way Joshua dresses, how comfortable they are with controversial jokes, or the way Joshua got beefy over the pandemic for seemingly no reason?
But god, those pecs are immaculate. Jeonghan thought, this wouldn't be the first time he thought of Joshua this way. 
It was a little dubious, wanting someone who's convinced they don't want you in the same way, but ever since that conversation, Joshua has never looked at Jeonghan the same.
It was like an Epiphany smacked him in the face.
Jeonghan isn't complaining though- okay, maybe a little. He's complaining about how long it's taking Joshua to take a hint. Especially when he's trying to set him up with what he believes to be the love of his life.
Apart from Joshua, of course.
A hand wraps around Jeonghan's arm, sliding into the barstool next to him. “Hey Jeonghoney!” She said, placing a kiss on his cheek, a grin spreading across her face in an impish manner.
“Shuji couldn't make it today?” She asked, already having a nickname for a guy she hadn't even met yet, but it was fine, she was always the comfortable type.
“No, doll. He's way too in his head about his feelings and I want him to ride it out on his own, he desperately needs it.” He said, taking another swig of his drink before setting the empty glass down and calling for the bartender. 
Signaling another of his drinks and a new one for his new company, Jeonghan rolled his shoulders in frustration before turning to the woman next to him, her eyes watching his every move attentively, the dim red lights of the bar making her look devilish. 
She is kind of the devil, though, at least to Jeonghan's loins.
“Aw, that's too bad.” She said with a pout, “At least we're here now, let's dance after this drink. What about it, Jeonghoney?” She grinned after.
Jeonghan grinned a boyish grin after this, he always loved that she was always down for whatever, making the most out of any situation. Maybe that's why they clicked during Seungcheol's birthday party.
“Yeah, I'd love that.”
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The bar had a more laid-back atmosphere than most nightclubs, which Jeonghan appreciated given that the club crowd was never really his. But still, the dance floor was high on energy and hot. Everything felt too hot and sticky for him to fully get his head into it, especially not with Joshua's existential crisis being in the back of his mind.
He felt her arms wrap around his neck, pulling his body closer to hers as they set a more relaxed pace to the song. She leaned in, kind of shouting over the music to speak to him, “You're in your mind again Jeonghoney, care to share your thoughts?” She said, leading the sway of their bodies to the music.
Jeonghan only shook his head, holding her hips in his palms to swing to the beat more intensely. “Nothing you should worry your pretty little head about, doll. At least, not in the middle of a bar.” He tried to joke, a dry chuckle leaving his throat. 
She huffs, agitation bubbling, “Then why are you thinking about it, hm? In the middle of the bar no less?”
Jeonghan just chortled at this, he kind of played himself there. She may be bubbly and easy-going but that doesn't mean she's anywhere to being stupid. She's a very intelligent woman if she wants to be.
He leans down to kiss the wrinkle on her forehead, effectively smoothing the furrow of her brows, “My bad doll, I'll just focus on you, then.” He said, turning his head to place a kiss on the side of her head, humming at the scent of her perfume. 
She giggled, pulling him close to her as they swayed, the song slowing down. They both turn their heads to rest on each other's foreheads, Jeonghan's hands resting on her hips with no pressure of leading their swaying, only enjoying the warmth of her presence. 
Jeonghan believes this is bliss, to have someone who wants him as much as they want them. It might be wishful thinking on his part, but he hoped that one day Joshua would catch up with him.
It was obvious how Joshua acted around him, but he needed Joshua to tell him explicitly. Joshua needed to come to that realization in his own time.
Jeonghan waited for over a decade now, what's the harm in more waiting?
She leans in, their lips brushing but never kissing,  they haven't kissed, not on the lips yet, but Jeonghan is guilty of wanting to go further with her, carefully considering his options of just asking her directly to let her set the pace.
He decides he's a really patient guy, he's always waiting, isn't he?
Jeonghan came to the realization that he wasn't monogamous a long time ago, he had a lot of time to think about what that meant and to let go of the social stigma that was instilled into him at a young age. He thought he was wrong, for wanting more than one person to love. He thought his integrity and loyalty didn't exist because he couldn't just commit to one person.
But then again, his heart was just too big for one.
Jeonghan pulled away from her face to lean down and press his face into the crook of her neck, opting to press feather-light kisses to the skin, his hair tickling her cheek.
His hands roamed her midriff, still at a respectful pressure and manner. He just wants to feel her close, having no sexual intentions. He hums in contentment, peace in his mind as he shares this intimate moment with her.
Breathing in her scent made calm wash over Jeonghan in gentle waves, almost making him forget the recent turmoils of his and Joshua's relationship. 
The key word is almost.
Much like every day after he met Joshua at 18 years old, he managed to make a place for himself in the back of Jeonghan's mind, never leaving no matter how hard Jeonghan tried to push him further back.
Can you blame Jeonghan though? A beautiful soul like that only comes once in a lifetime, there wasn't a day when Jeonghan could ever think that Joshua could be anything other than beautiful.
Not that he had to try hard, Joshua's merits spoke for themselves. His mindset, devotion, loyalty, and comforting aura. Everything about him. Even everything that he was insecure about, Jeonghan found beautiful. 
Oh, being in love with your best friend hurts.
Maybe one day he’ll get over the monumental obstacle that was his feelings for Joshua. He felt really guilty for them most days, too. He couldn’t fully commit to being Joshua’s friend because of his feelings. He felt bad for essentially lying to him, for over a decade, even. 
Jeonghan doesn’t want to be just his best friend, he never did. And that’s what bothered Jeonghan the most.
She pulls him out of his own thoughts. Running her fingers over his hair to look him in the eyes, still a little unfocused on the current moment. She should be offended, he was the one who invited her out to dance but he couldn’t even be present enough to be here.
But, of course, she isn’t. You see, Jeonghan had a type. The type to forgive over and over again. You and Joshua, basically. 
He's only been in love twice in his lifetime, you and Joshua, basically. 
Jeonghan finally snaps out of his own thoughts just as the song ends, pulling away from her, taking her hands in his to lead her back to the bar. “I really need a drink, sorry for ruining your fun doll.” He said, his voice a little dry.
“It's fine Jeonghoney, you need this more than I do. He'll come around, I'm sure of it.”
Oh, just how sweet can you get? Jeonghan thought, your saccharine smile sticking to his mind like thick honey, golden ambrosia poisoning his mortal consciousness. 
Being in love is addictive, and Jeonghan is only a man. Maybe his pining for his best friend would be the sun he flies too close to, hubris is his greatest sin, after all.
He leans over to press another kiss to her shoulder, “You're too kind to me, doll. It's only been a few days, but would it be too soon to call you a blessing?” He jokes, trying to lighten the situation by buttering her up, like usual.
She giggles, much like at Seungcheol's party, but this time instead of curiosity toward a handsome stranger, it's adorable for a close companion. 
Jeonghan and Y/n haven't known each other for long, but to a romantic, you know your soulmate as soon as you meet them.
It was easy for them, Jeonghan didn't have to skirt around the idea of something more with her. He didn't have to wait for her to get on the same page as him, minds in the same wavelength as soon as they locked eyes. Both Y/n and Jeonghan are romantics, so of course they're in love.
But Jeonghan still yearns for his best friend.
The one who stood by him for over a decade now, the only one who Jeonghan could share all his secrets, the one who knew Jeonghan better than he did, but somehow did not know anything at all.
Jeonghan only wished that in another universe, Joshua was just as much of a romantic as he is, maybe then he'll finally be able to tell him that he loves him in the way that Jeonghan wanted to.
One more drink before they go home. Jeonghan thought.
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Taking her home for the first time felt a little intimidating to Jeonghan, especially since the conversation they had before leaving. 
If we're going to take this relationship seriously, you need to trust me Jeonghan, trust us. I love you, truly, I want us.
She's right, of course, one look at the both of them and you'd know just how in love they were.
They make their way through the threshold of Jeonghan and Joshua's shared apartment, carefully entering Jeonghan's room. Joshua hasn't been in their apartment the whole night, choosing to spend his time with high-school friends that took the time to visit him from across the world.
It might be the best for him, a distraction from the difficult situation he found himself in.
Jeonghan helps her with her night routine, his hands are a little clumsy from all the drinking they'd done, yet Jeonghan takes great care in unzipping the back of her dress.
He kisses the new skin exposed to him, her back turned to him as she frees her hair from her up-do and she starts to pick bobby pins out. Jeonghan takes this opportunity to massage her scalp, trying to press out the tension from being up for so long.
After helping her undress, Jeonghan starts to strip lazily too, taking his time to get used to the nip of the cold air nipping at his skin, before joining her in the bathroom, he fishes out some towels as she sets the water to whatever temperature was comfortable for her.
She gets in the shower, letting the water soak into her hair and skin, fogging up the glass of the shower and the mirror. Jeonghan followed after her, hia body also getting soaked by the water as he was reaching for the shampoo and letting it lather on his palms, before gently massaging her scalp again, carefully scratching it to clean.
She sighed, the physical intimacy comforting her, it was odd for most people, to be this comfortable being naked and showering with someone they knew for less than a week. But Jeonghan just felt like someone she'd spend the rest of her life with, it was odd, to fall this quickly, but it was right, this felt right. 
Jeonghan feels the same way too, most men wouldn't know what to do with themselves when in the vicinity of a gorgeous woman, but to Jeonghan,  just her presence was enough. Sure, it'd be nice if there was something more, but just this was enough, love overpowering any carnal desire for her skin.
He just wants her close, so after helping her with shampoo, he hugs her from behind, warm skin pressing against warm skin, pressing small kisses to her wet neck. She giggles, Jeonghan's soft lips tickling her, leaning back against him, she sighs again, she loves this type of intimacy. Both of them were too drunk and tired to do anything over than finish up preparing for bed, so instead they just held each other close, enjoying the moment of silence, only being broken by the steady patter of the shower.
They both finish their shower and skincare before getting dressed, Y/n in one of Jeonghan's shirts and a pair of his boxers, and Jeonghan in much of the same uniform. 
They take turns drying each other's hair, Jeonghan's expensive and fancy blowdryer doing the job perfectly. Now, after a relaxing shower and a few more kisses, they're ready for bed.
Jeonghan shuffles under the covers with her, immediately turning over to pull her close, his heartbeat under her ear as he steadies his breathing again. She looked beautiful, a calm washing over her in the safety of Jeonghan's arms, pressing more kisses into each other's faces as they fell into an easy slumber.
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I need something angsty for HC Tuesday.
like Noah and the reader broke up because one of them fucked up (your choice) and when they see each other they hookup, but the reader thinks Noah's gonna leave her again because he got what he wanted but nope. Noah tells her that they will work through their problems and that he will never let her go again.
Sparked in my mind like 5 min ago😭 I know you can do it justice❤❤
Love you tina❤
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@thescarlettvvitch @mitchhbitch @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @lma1986 @dsireland86 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @exitwoundsx @shayzillaaaa @lookwhatitcost @badomensls @princesspeach-00 @burning-outx @shadowseve @collective-heartbreak @klutzy-kay24 @sorrowsofsilence @sweetlittlekitsune @shilohrosechicken @itsafullmoon @toospooktocute @niicoleleigh @thatchickwiththecamera @hoe-for-daddywise @whenthesummerdies @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @thisbicc @sammyjoeee @pathion @flowery-mess
GIRL, I LOVE ANGST SO GOD DAMN MUCH. But sorry if it's not angsty enough lol maybe down the road I can explore more into this.
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"I'll see you guys later!" You called to your group of friends you left behind at the restaurant.
You'd spend the day with them and now that it was getting late, you wanted nothing more than to go home and lounge in bed.
Your brain had been filled with so many different things that you didn't realize you walked into a body until it was too late.
"Y/N?"
Gazing up, you went to apologize when you noticed who those pair of almond eyes belonged too.
"No-Noah?" You stuttered while taking a large step away from your ex boyfriend.
His hair was much shorter than when you dated him but that faint smile was still the same.
It had been almost six months since you saw him last but he still took your breath away.
It was your fault the two of you broke up because, you were scared that Noah would forget you when Bad Omens rose to stardom.
He promised you that he never would but you didn't want to risk your heart getting broken so you left him.
But in the end, your heart was still broken because you missed him so much.
You wanted to reach out, ask him to forgive you and take you back, but as you watched Bad Omens grow into stardom, you didn't want to be a bother.
"Hey angel," he smiled while stuffing his hands in his pockets. "You look good."
You blinked as your heart rate picked up at hearing his nickname for you.
"You're back? I thought Bad Omens was touring for another week."
He raised a brow at that with a chuckle. "Paying attention, huh?"
When you didn't say anything, he continued. "I was sick the last few days so we canceled tour early."
"Oh," you shuffled on your feet.
The silence was starting to tug hard on your broken heart that had yet to mend so you quickly turned on your heels, ready to go back home.
"Can I walk you home?"
Noah's question made you falter for a moment and you knew that you should decline because the repercussions of what could happen after would only make things worse.
"Sure," the word flew out of your mouth before it registered.
The voice in your head was so wrong.
The walk home turned into an invite up to catch up which turned into the both of you tied together in between your sheets.
Now you lay staring at the large tattoo on his back with your breath caught in your throat, wondering if he was going to leave.
"If you're going to leave, can you do it now before I think too far ahead?" Your voice came out broken.
Noah, who was falling asleep, turned around and rubbed away the sleep from his eyes.
"Angel," he cupped your cheek, "I'm not going anywhere. I'm not a big believer in fate but I think there was a reason why I ran into you tonight. Now that I have you again, I'm not letting you go again."
"You're not?" Your bottom lip wobbled and he kissed it.
"I'm staying here as long as you let me," he admitted.
You wrapped an arm around him, breathing in that familiar scent of him.
"I'm not letting you go again."
Slowly as he laid next to you in bed, your broken heart began to mend.
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kavehayi · 2 days
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kisses on space street • NEBULAE
aventurine x gn!reader • fluff (ongoing series)
chapter summary: pretty boy aventurine has completely taken over your college campus and everyone is warning you to stay away! however, (un)lucky for you, he's got his eyes on you.
author's note: finally doing this series😭 ive been meaning to and nothing ever came to mind to get rid of my writer's block but now im delivering the first chapter☝️
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August 23rd, 20XX.
first day of college. you had to try and find your way around the huge campus from the library to the food hall to the area where your actual major resided. the place was a little overwhelming and you had a bit of trouble making your way around.
however, someone came up to help you find your way around.
aventurine. the man with beautiful eyes, is talking to you, an average person. "heya, pretty, you look lost, where do ya need to go?" he cooed in that sweet, honey-like voice. you looked a little shocked he was actually talking to you of all people. guess he sensed that since he let out a lighter chuckle, "ya look shocked, you good?" he asked, now you just have to snap out of it.
you spoke up, "yeah yeah, im...uh, fine, just looking for where my professor's classroom is at" you spoke politely. you didn't wanna waste his time, especially because he definitely has better people to talk to. you showed him the classroom number and his face lit up, "hey i have to go there too! i found it earlier, follow me" he stated pretty enthusiastically. you followed him to the classroom and he opened his mouth again.
he does not know how to shut up, huh?
he spoke up, "so, pretty, you livin' on campus?" he asked. you didn't really wanna tell him this but you went ahead and did it anyways. "uhm, yeah, im living in a dorm with a roommate, don't know his name though, didn't bother looking at the sheet." you cant believe you said that. now hes gonna bother you about looking at the sheet. "oo! let me see for you, i know everyone here" he didnt even really ask to see it, he kinda just stole your papers and looked through. judging by how his face lit up.
he was your roommate.
great.
he left you alone after he lead you to class and when lunchtime came, you went to the nearby cafe to speak to your friends. seems they had some warnings for you. "hey loser! over here!" they called you over and you sat down.
"yknow guys, i met the most obnoxious guy ever today" you started off, catching your friends' attention. your friends' names are robin, a music major. brother is sort of all over the place but he's nice. robin is also a travelling musician so there's some weeks where you never see her but she keeps contact. veritas ratio, prefers being called ratio. older than you and robin and is a junior in college. you guys only met because he accidentally threw chalk at your head when you were a junior in high school minding your business in math class.
"cant be as obnoxious as aventurine, i mean, he's literally loud and pretty so he gets away with it" robin stated and you went really quiet.
"so what if i said it was aventurine?" you questioned and robin dropped her sandwich on the table and ratio, sorta didn't show a reaction. kinda just glared. "stay away from him! he locks his eyes on someone and then ruins their life from what i heard!" robin stated with a scared expression and ratio just scoffed. "all you hear is rumors, miss robin. why dont you just get to know the guy for once, hm?" he asked her with a glare her way, robin just picked up her sandwich and ate it with a pout.
"always have a way of bullying the poor girl, huh, ratio?" you asked him, in which he just grunted and sipped his tea. "anyways, aventurine, i seriously cannot escape him, he's my roommate and in my class" you stated, robin just about imploded.
"no way! good luck dealing with him, dont be too interesting around him or else he'll target you" she said with a nervous sounding voice. you guys ended up finishing our lunch and parting ways, you and ratio going back to the campus while robin had some things to do back at her studio.
the entire day passed you by and it'd already been nine at night. you started heading back to your dorm, hoping that aventurine wasnt there. yet of course, nothing you wish for, actually happens.
"pretty! you're back, how was your first day?" he cooed, he had friends over and he didnt even bother considering how you'd feel about that. "it was fine, im going to my room, dont make too much noise" you stated before walking away. aventurine didnt think you'd be this prickly.
whatever, not like it mattered.
why should you care how he feels.
too bad for you though, he's interested in you now.
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morallyinept · 2 days
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A full transcribe of ZACH WELLISON'S dialogue/lines from the TV show BROTHERS & SISTERS.
Includes full dialogue, and dialogue from any deleted/additional scenes available.
I've created this as a point of reference when writing for Pedro's characters, and I hope you find it useful. Even if you just want to read the dialogue. 🖤
FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE
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☝🏻Dialogue has been fully transcribed by myself using reference to original scripts (if available), audio subtitles and using my own two ears. Therefore, mistakes can be made, however I have tried to be as fully accurate as I can. If you spot an obvious mistake, please kindly let me know. Where audio is not clear, I have marked with *inaudible* Scenes are separated for ease of reference.
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FULL SCRIPT DIALOGUE: (ALL EPISODES - ZACH WAS IN 2 EPISODES IN SEASON 5)
EP 15 S5 BRODY
Yep. Vista Hermosa Park.
What country?
That’s no fun, name a country?
Norway doesn’t have a president, it’s a constitutional monarchy. 
Semper Fi, five-oh from. 
Iraq. 
Gosh. We’re practically brothers. 
See that tree? That. He jumped me outta nowhere. 
Maybe I got a swing in or two. 
If people sneak up on me, I’m gonna defend myself. 
Well I feel a little lightheaded. Maybe if you give me a sixty pound pack and I slung a buddy over my shoulder, maybe I can make it. 
__________________
It hurts. Did you come here to check on my head? 
What, are you spying on me? 
And what did they tell you at the VA? 
I’ve been on a list for a year. They stop putting names on a list because it never moves because there are no programs for me. 
That's if I have a drug problem. They have programs for that, but I don’t have a drug problem. I have a place to sleep problem. I considered getting a drug problem, but I don't really like drugs, and I’d have to steal things to pay for them, which could solve my place to sleep problem, only jail… isn’t a good option for me. Thanks for trying. 
Give it up, you can’t help. 
You know what, bro?! You could end up with some issues of your own if you don’t get outta my face!! You understand my problem now?
__________________
What’s up with you, man? Why… don’t you know you could get killed doing that?! 
No. Don't be stupid. 
What is wrong with you, seriously?
__________________
Hey. Is this a bad time?
Yeah, sure. 
__________________
EP 16 S5 HOME IS WHERE THE FORT IS
My support group ran over. 
Let me go get my apron and I’m all yours. 
Alright, I’m officially on the clock, where do you need me?
You got it, boss. 
__________________
Justin. You alright?
You sure? Alright ‘cause, it’s like, the third time this has happened. 
No. Never mind. 
It’s not my problem I’m worried about, it’s yours. 
I was there too, remember? Three tours, just like you. I know what you’re going through. The only difference between my problem and yours, is you got a place to hide. 
Yeah, that’s what I kept telling myself my first couple of weeks on the street. And now here I am, two years later, and I’m still living out of a duffel bag. Avoid it all you want, man. But eventually, it’s gonna catch up with you. 
__________________
Hey, man. Dan called. 
You okay?
Yeah, Dan said. You wanna talk about it? 
Okay.
And do you?
You mean until I showed up?
So, you’ve been trying to save me. I’m the straw that broke the paramedic’s back? 
Justin. It’s cool. Dan told me about this building manager gig. Gotta go meet the owner, but he said the job is mine if I want it. So, consider me saved, okay? 
But what about you, what are you gonna do?
Game? Trust me, not even you can save the Clippers at this point. 
Yeah, it’s pretty bad. 
__________________
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FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE
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starboy-sirius · 3 days
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without touching his skin (how can i be guilty as sin?)
jegulus modern au (with a sprinkle of wolfstar) based off this post by @starchaserdreams because i saw it and couldn't not write it (hope that's okay!!) 7642 words | read it on ao3 here! |
✧˖*°࿐
James laughs at his best friend Sirius, who is staring at his phone in horror, his eyes wide and unblinking as he looks at the text James just sent from his phone. His mouth is open and he looks ridiculous. He’s likely to catch flies at this rate and James can’t help but cackle at his shocked face. 
It’s no secret that Sirius has been crushing on their friend Remus for the past year, following him around with puppy eyes and hanging off his every word. James has told him time and time again to make his move, that Remus won’t be horrible to him if he confesses because when has Remus ever been horrible to either of them? Never. So he wouldn’t so much as hurt a hair on Sirius’ head if the boy confessed. 
James also has it on good authority that Remus has fancied Sirius for nearly two years now, so he isn’t setting Sirius up for failure by urging him to confess. Of course, he’s sworn to secrecy by both of them so it’s not like he can spill either of their secrets to the other, even if it would help things along immensely. But Sirius being Sirius wouldn’t stop whining about how he wishes he could just confess already. 
James was only trying to make it easier for him.
So it has come to this. James grabbed Sirius’ phone before he could realise what he was doing, and sent Remus a text saying hey can we talk? I need to tell you something. It’s genius if you ask James because he’s done half the work for him. Making the initial move is always the most nerve wracking and James has gotten that out of Sirius’ way. 
Honestly, James isn’t sure why Sirius isn’t on his knees thanking him. Where’s the excitement? Usually James would be engulfed in a hug by now. 
“James, what the fuck?” Sirius whispers, eyes glued to his phone at the very unsendable text message. 
“It’s a good thing, mate! Now you just have to confess and boom! Dating,” James grins, patting Sirius’ thigh and leaning back into the beanbag he’s currently sitting in with an air of victory to him. 
Finally, Sirius lifts his eyes from the phone and tosses it across the room. He serves James a deadly stare. “James.”
Feeling apprehension dance along his spine, James sits up straighter. Sirius doesn’t say anything else, only stares at James with a look that gets more intense the longer it goes on. James fidgets uncomfortably. “Um, Sirius? You okay there, bud?”
“James,” Sirius repeats unblinkingly. “Because I love you, I am going to give you a ten second head start, but if you don’t run right now I am going to kill you.”
Alarmed, James jolts in the beanbag and tenses his legs as his flight mode activates. He wavers, mainly because he’s unsure as to whether Sirius is joking or not, but he gets ready just in case. “Really? I was only trying to help you out!”
“Really,” Sirius confirms gravely. “Ready? Countdown starts now.”
“Wait, Sirius—”
“Ten—”
“I really don’t think this is nece—”
“Nine—”
“I was only help—”
“Eight—”
“Fuck, okay,” James scrambles upwards and dashes out of Sirius’ bedroom. 
The positive to this situation is that Sirius’ house is fucking enormous. He’s a little on the richer side, which isn’t a huge shock because James is fairly wealthy himself, but Sirius moved into this place with his younger brother and his eldest cousin because his parents were verbally and physically abusing them. His cousin took them in immediately and Sirius helped buy them this place with the money that was left to him by a relative. 
The house, if one could call it that, is ornately decorated and very tasteful. It is more of a manor, James thinks as he rushes up a double staircase and onto the next floor’s landing. There are many paintings hung on the wall, some of them James knows were painted by Regulus, Sirius’ younger brother, and some are the works of Sirius’ niece, who also lives with them. Even the toddler’s paintings are encased in the same intricate, golden frames as some of the priceless antique ones and it makes James smile, even as he’s racing for his life. 
He can’t hear Sirius counting anymore but he knows that the boy must have stopped by now and is on the hunt for him. Honestly, James thinks he’s being a little dramatic but that’s an average day for Sirius, and so James thanks his lucky stars that Sirius hasn’t decided to go truly overboard. This is actually quite mild for him. 
A sudden bang from downstairs has James panicking and diving into the first door he comes across. It’s steamy when he first enters, a thick haze of heat hitting him in the face and James tries not to choke on the sudden onslaught. The smell is delicious, however, and James finds himself moving further into the room as his nose leads him to the pleasant scent. As he moves further into the ridiculously large room, James identifies that it smells of lavender, bergamot and pine. 
He wishes he could bottle it and spray it on his pillow so that he could get a guaranteed night of good sleep, because holy fuck does he want to ingest this smell right now. 
The sound of rushing water vaguely registers in his mind because suddenly it ceases, James now coming to the dawning realisation that the room he’s in is a bathroom and that there is definitely someone in here with him. Someone who was showering not seconds ago. Which means that whoever is in the shower-tub combo is probably about to step out of it. Naked. The person in the shower is going to step out of it dripping wet and completely naked. 
It could be Andromeda, Sirius’ cousin, or her husband Ted, or Regulus, Sirius’ brother. James doesn’t know which option is worse, they’re all awful for different reasons. Ah yes, a dripping wet, naked Regulus, how awful indeed, his brain supplies and James feels his skin flush. 
Listen, okay. James has known Sirius since they were eleven and met at some fancy, rich boarding school that all their ancestors had apparently gone to, which meant they had to as well. So he’s known him for quite a while, given that James is now twenty-one and at another prestigious university that their ancestors also went to. This means that he’s known Regulus for that time as a result of his unbreakably close friendship with Sirius. 
At first, James had thought Regulus was adorable with his cherub cheeks and his little curls. He looked like a child that would be modelling for kids clothing brands, but when he opened his mouth? Goddamn, he was such a little shit. He’d taken one look at James and spat the most unhinged insults James had ever heard. At age ten, no less! It had knocked James down a peg initially, but truthfully? James had become a little enamoured with Sirius’ spiteful younger brother. 
Sirius had apologised profusely to James, worrying that his little brother had put him off being best friends. He rushed to explain that it was a result of the way they’d been raised, which had then prompted the conversation about their parents which had James equally furious as he was heartbroken. James promised him that he had nothing to worry about, that he liked Regulus and his biting comments. You’re not getting rid of me that easily, James told him before crushing him in a tight hug.
So James had grown up with Sirius and therefore Regulus, and he’s watched the younger boy blossom in his own ways. He’d never hung out with them much at boarding school, having his own group of equally sarcastic and sharp-minded friends who looked at James like he was prey they could hunt and destroy. Despite their less than friendly demeanors, James always tried to talk to them when he could, wanting to get on with them because he cared for Regulus and they were his best friends. Openly, his favourite was Pandora, who was always the most receptive to him. Secretly, his second favourite was Barty because the boy had a wicked sense of humour when it wasn’t aimed at James with his incessant need to take the piss out of him. 
Regulus and his friends had followed in their footsteps and gone to the same university, which James knows Sirius was secretly happy about because it meant that he could spend more time with him before they got jobs and lives of their own. A part of James was happy too but he hadn’t wanted to look into why exactly that was. 
Of course, James knew deep down why exactly it was. 
Watching Regulus grow up from someone he classified as ‘Sirius’ little brother’ to Regulus, a young man who had his own name, his own personality, dreams and desires. A young man whom James could no longer deny to himself that he found effortlessly attractive. 
Which left James with the problem he has now: fancying Regulus. James is well aware that Regulus is his own person, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s still Sirius’ brother, and James knows that Sirius would throw the hissy fit to end all hissy fits if James reveals that he fancies him. So James pines silently for the boy who throws insults at him like its second nature, like it’s as easy as breathing. It only makes James like him all the more, because the majority of people in James’ life trip over themselves to please him, but not Regulus. Regulus would rather set his hair on fire than be nice to James, he knows. 
Speaking of his hair, goddamn. 
Still curly as ever, only it’s longer now and it wafts elegantly around the nape of his neck, some parts of it wavier than curly. It looks like a halo, James thinks. He’s an angel. A fire spitting angel, which James thinks is the best kind. He’s elegant and lean and perfect, his skin like a doll’s and his lips pouty and shaped like Cupid’s arrow. James would do anything to kiss him. 
But James is a gentleman and he will not try anything on Regulus because he is Sirius’ brother, and he knows it would only complicate things between everyone. He also has no idea whether Regulus even likes him like that, everything seems to point to the negative considering they can’t have a conversation with Regulus insulting him at every opportunity. James thinks he’s rather insane to enjoy the way Regulus’ words cut into him, and he knows that just because he’s apparently gone mad doesn’t mean Regulus has. It doesn’t mean Regulus enjoys their verbal sparring as James does. 
James is a gentleman. He isn’t going to attempt anything with Regulus, end of story. 
He wishes he could remember that as a creamy, pale leg appears from behind the shower curtain and his brain completely short circuits. As the leg touches the ground an equally creamy and pale arm darts out to grab at the forest green towel hanging up on the wall, and then his entire body is out and James only just misses being flashed as the towel is brought up over the man’s crotch. 
Regulus’ crotch, because that is Regulus who has just gotten out of the shower. Regulus, who was naked a moment ago. Who is still naked now technically. He hasn’t even wrapped the towel around himself yet, is only holding it over his crotch and James feels like he’s going to faint. He's so lightheaded. He wants to believe it’s the steam but he can’t bring himself to pretend that it’s not all that exposed skin in front of him. 
Regulus hasn’t noticed he’s there yet as he brings the towel up to his face to wipe the water from his eyes. His skin is tinged pink from the heat of the water and James briefly wonders what it would be like to mark that skin, to leave it mottled with purples and reds and teeth marks. He grows hotter at every passing thought. 
He’s broken from his reverie when Regulus attempts to bring the towel up to his hair to dry the edges briefly. James knows that he only does it a little because the towel is too heavy on his curls and usually he uses an old t-shirt of Sirius’ that he stole, but all this information flies out of the window with what’s left of his melting brain as Regulus raises the towel high enough that it threatens to expose him. 
James lets out a rather embarrassing, strangled squeak at the prospect and is met with a frozen Regulus, who pauses and locks eyes with him, the steely grey going wide before narrowing playfully. He brings the towel down slowly, far too slowly for someone who is naked and vulnerable and naked, James thinks. 
Regulus wraps the towel around his waist, slinging it so low on his hips that James thinks he’s going to go into cardiac arrest, and leans back against the wall behind him. He smirks at James as he runs a head through his curls. Beads of water drip from his hair, down his neck and tantalisingly down his torso, traversing the divots of his toned abdomen. James follows a single drop from his prominent collarbones, past his pink nipples and down, down, down his lovely stomach. Just as the droplet is falling into the trail of hair underneath his belly button, James is brought back into the present by a teasing cough. 
Snapping his eyes back up to Regulus’ face, he finds that the boy is already looking at him with a single raised eyebrow. James feels his face flush and he prays that he doesn’t look like a tomato. Especially since Regulus is standing there like a Greek god, like someone who would be honoured by a multitude of sculptures that people like James would pay exorbitant amounts of money to stare at. 
“Hi, James,” Regulus purrs, his eyes never leaving James’ face.
“Hi,” James replies faintly, his voice slightly croaky from where it’s mostly been open since Regulus stepped out of the shower. 
Regulus grins like a shark but softens it when his tongue pokes out to wet his bottom lip. James is attached to the movement like a limpet to the side of a ship. “Did you step in here so that you could catch me naked, James?”
“What?! No! Of course not! It was an accident, I swear,” James proclaims, arms waving around like a madman as he tries to remain calm. He can’t believe Regulus caught him in his bathroom, naked from his shower, and is just lounging against the wall with a permanent smirk on his face. 
James feels incredibly out of depth. 
Regulus hums, a delicate hand coming up to trace at his collarbone and play with the water droplets there. He tilts his neck to give himself more access and huffs out a laugh as James’ eyes follow the movement religiously. “That’s a shame.”
James nods, blindly agreeing without really listening, intently focused on the longer finger as it trails back and forth on Regulus’ marble-like skin. James wants to bite it. He snaps back to reality when his brain catches on to what Regulus has said. “Wait, what?”
“You know,” Regulus changes the topic, bringing his hand down to rest at the knot of the towel and James feels like his heart is going to give up on him. And that his dick is going to become very noticeable in his trousers. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you blush this much. What’s gotten you so worked up, James?”
James wants to curse him because he knows what’s gotten him so worked up, the little shit. James was wrong, Regulus is not an angel, he's the devil incarnate and he refuses to stand here and be embarrassed by him. Not long ago were the days where James used to tease him until he was beaming a bright red. James doesn’t like how the tables have turned. 
Distantly, James hears a victorious shout followed by what is definitely Sirius yelling his name like a madman. Regulus’ eyes flicker from James to the bathroom door and the latter realises that it’s the first time Regulus’ eyes have left him since he realised James was in here too. 
James sends him a sheepish smile as he begins to walk himself backward, as if Regulus is a wild animal he needs to keep his eyes on at all times lest he turn his back and allow himself to be attacked. “Well, that’s my cue! Lovely seeing you again, Regulus.”
Regulus’ eyes twinkle as he runs a hand over his wet curls. “Truly a pleasure, James. Try not to make a habit of following me into the bathroom when I’m wet and naked, hm?”
The laugh that forces its way out of James’ mouth is strained and bordering on hysterical as he tries not to trip on his way out. He’s still looking at Regulus, who’s staring at him like he’s a meal he wants to devour, and he can’t even find himself able to speak English. Garbled noises are the only thing that he’s able to come up with and it only makes Regulus’ smirk ever more shark-like. With one last look at the enticing boy in front of him, James fumbles with the door handle and practically sprints out of the bathroom. 
The alluring pull of Regulus’ silver eyes doesn't leave his mind. 
✧˖*°࿐
When James makes it back to Sirius’ bedroom on the floor below, Sirius is right where James left him, only that he’s sprawled out on his bed on his stomach, legs swishing back and forth with one hand twirling his wavy hair. James feels like he’s entered a rom-com. 
“Er, Pads?” He asks, bewildered by the image he’s presented with. The nickname is a long standing one that James can’t even remember the origins for, only that he, Sirius and their two friends Remus and Peter all have corresponding animal nicknames. 
“Prongs!” Sirius bellows as he jumps up and throws himself into James’ arms, his legs wrapping around his waist. 
Huffing at the sudden weight, James pulls away to look at Sirius’ face. “Hey, sexy. Fancy meeting you here.”
Sirius laughs, throwing his head back. When he returns his gaze to James it’s mischievous. “You know I love you, Jamie, but I’m afraid we cannot continue flirting like this. You see, I’m about to be a taken man.”
James almost drops him. “Oh shit, it worked?!”
“Well, almost,” Sirius informs as he unwraps his legs and pulls James to the bed with him. “Just as I was about to come and kill you, he responded saying that he also had something to tell me. I didn’t want to do it over the phone though, so I’ve invited him here. He’s on his way.”
“Fuck yeah!” James shouts and piles on top of Sirius, planting wet kisses all over his face as Sirius laughs and wraps his limbs around him like an octopus. James begins to dig his fingers into Sirius’ sides, delighting in the breathless giggles he lets out. “Hey, I’m just trying to get my fill, alright? My best mate is about to get a boyfriend.”
“James!” Breathless and bordering on hiccups, Sirius manoeuvres James so that they’re laying side to side facing each other. “James, if it all goes wrong I need you to beat Moony up for me.”
“What?! I can’t beat Remus up! Have you seen him angry? He’d kill me!” James exclaims, wrapping an arm around Sirius’ waist. 
“James, you have to! You’re my best friend, it’s basically the law,” Sirius whines, snuggling into the crook of James’ neck. 
Sensing the undertones of the conversation, James quietens down. Amongst all the joking and laughing, James can tell that Sirius is scared to confess his feelings for Remus. He can’t help but find it sweet because he has nothing to worry about, but James isn’t going to spoil that for him. 
“Listen to me, Sirius. You’re going to be okay. Remus isn’t going to hurt you or be mean to you, and even if he miraculously is then we’ll sic Regulus on him, okay?” James strokes a hand through Sirius’ hair, speaking softly. 
Sirius seems to mull this over, humming as he does so, and comes to a positive conclusion. “Oh, that’s brilliant. I mean, Regulus quite likes Remus so it might be a little hard to convince him, but if he sees how upset I am then I’m sure he’ll oblige. Good thinking, Prongs.”
They lay there silently after that, neither of them speaking but rather enjoying the moment they’re sharing in each other’s arms. It took a while for Sirius to get to this stage with James because of the way he was raised. James was always showered with love and affection from his parents, growing into a very physically affectionate person, whereas Sirius was the complete opposite. Love wasn’t given freely if at all in his family home, and the only other person with whom he shared affectionate physical touch was Regulus. Both brothers took a while to get used to James’ love language (one of them, anyway), but Sirius was the first to succumb to his cuddles. 
“Hey,” Sirius breaks the silence. “I’m probably going to talk to Remus in the garden because the flowers he helped plant are blooming and I want to show him. Do you mind staying up here by yourself? You can always go off and find Regulus if you get lonely.”
The thought brings James back to the bathroom and all that creamy skin on display, beckoning him like a blank canvas desperate to be brought to life by some paint. James never thought of himself as an artist but right now he would gladly take to Regulus’ body with his mouth as the brush. 
Holy fuck, he cannot be thinking of Regulus like this when he is literally wrapped around his older brother. Sirius would surely kill him if he knew what James was thinking about. Would hunt him down to the ends of the earth if he knew that James wants to kiss Regulus until his lips are red and swollen, and wants to mark every inch of his body until no one questions that Regulus is his. He wants to have Regulus whining and panting underneath him, or on top of him, or quite literally in any position, in any place and at any time. James isn’t fussy, he’ll take Regulus however he can get him.
Right, totally failed at not thinking filthy thoughts of Regulus when he’s cuddled up to Sirius. Shit. 
“Jamie? Are you alright?”
“Yes!” James nearly shouts and clears his throat when Sirius pulls away to look at him funny. “Perfectly well, thanks Pads.”
Before Sirius can object, there’s a knock at the door followed by the doorbell, and both boys shoot up so quickly that they trip over one another and fall into a heap on the floor. For a moment all they do is lie there as they contemplate getting up. They’re groaning, elbows and knees in places where those should never be, and James is pushing at Sirius’ shoulders in an attempt to make him get up.
“I’ve changed my mind, I can’t do it. You go and answer the door, Jamie. Tell him I’ve fallen ill.”
James rolls his eyes at Sirius who flops onto his back and throws an arm over his face like a fainting maiden. “Really, Sirius? What am I supposed to tell him you’ve come down with in fifteen minutes?”
Sirius contemplates it for a second before he’s snapping his fingers. “I know! We’ll tell him that it’s something you’ve come down with and I’ve caught it because it’s contagious. The whole house is on lockdown. It’s perfect!”
“Pads, that is the worst idea I’ve ever heard. There’s no way Remus will believe that.”
Huffing, Sirius throws his arms over his head and practically melts into the floor. “Well, I don’t see you coming up with any genius ideas!”
“Here’s one,” James responds sarcastically. “How about you go down and answer the door like a normal person? Take him to the garden to look at his flowers and then confess? You know, the original plan?”
Sirius looks at him. “James, that is just ridiculous.”
“Right.”
“Dumbest idea you’ve ever had.”
James watches Sirius as he stares up at the high ceiling, fondness creeping over his features. “Sirius, do you not think you’re going to hurt Remus if you turn him away now? After you’ve said you need to tell him something?”
The doorbell rings a second time.
In a rare moment of vulnerability, Sirius turns pleading eyes on James. “I can’t get the door, James. I can’t.”
James nods encouragingly. “You can, Sirius.”
“I can’t.”
The two of them are interrupted by the sounds of feet padding down the stairs. Unfortunately, James knows the sounds of those feet, and has practically committed them to memory. Regulus doesn’t enter the bedroom but he does call past the door, “I’ll get it, then, despite being a whole floor above. Tossers.”
Sirius and James stare at each other with wide eyes before they’re scrambling to get up, yelling out to Regulus, a cacophony of deep voices shouting up and down the stairs at each other.
“No, we’ll get it!”
“Reggie, you little shit, come back here!” 
They bound down the stairs, practically flying past them as they race to get to the door before Regulus. It’s not like they’re worried Regulus will say or not anything harmful, as Sirius said Regulus is surprisingly fond of Remus and often seeks him out for intellectual conversation, or so he says. It’s just that Regulus is well aware of Sirius’ feelings toward Remus and he makes it his life’s mission to make every possible hint known to man. 
James laughs wildly as they race against Regulus to get to the front door, Sirius cursing at the size of the house as they go, and once they reach the final set of stairs James hops on the bannister to slide down the the bottom.
It’s in vain, no matter how fun it was, because Regulus is already opening the door to a bored looking Remus. His expression changes dramatically when he sees the shit-eating grin on Regulus’ face, along with a panting James who looks wild with his hair sticking up everywhere, and Sirius who is a third of the way down the steps and clinging to the bannister as if he’s going to faint. 
“Er, is this a bad time?” Remus asks, eyes darting between the three of them. He looks faintly amused. 
Sirius shouts, “Yes, this is a terrible time, actually!” 
Just as Regulus croons, “This is a wonderful time, Remus, do come in.”
The younger boy practically drags him in and Sirius’ eyes burn at the contact of their hands. James grins at Remus and brings him into a hug that is quickly reciprocated. “Hey, Moony.”
“James, good to see you,” Remus murmurs before he pulls away to stare at Sirius who still hasn’t moved from the stairs. Remus ignores the snickering from Regulus and walks towards him. “Hi, Sirius.”
Sirius feels as though he’s going to faint. God, Remus is just so pretty. He’s all caramel hair and tan skin, scars from a childhood accident crossing from his eye, over his nose and to the corner of his lip, and Sirius hasn’t seen anyone as beautiful as him. He’s tall, towering over Sirius and making him feel as though he could be devoured in one bite. Sirius would let him. He would let Remus do anything he wanted, even if it meant consuming him whole. 
“Remus,” he breathes, heart pounding as Remus offers his hand out to him and he takes it, letting Remus assist him in walking down the stairs. 
Once he’s at the bottom he has to look up to meet Remus’ eyes, crinkled and warm, and he still hasn’t let go of his hand. In fact, Remus’ thumb is caressing his hand, the touch gentle and loving. Sirius is definitely going to faint. 
“Something you wanted to tell me, sweetheart?” Remus asks quietly, but it doesn’t matter because Regulus still hears it and fails to smother his laughter. 
Before James realises what he’s doing, he’s bringing one hand up to cup the boy’s nape and the other presses firmly against his mouth, cutting any sounds off and muffling them under his large palm. Regulus’ eyes flash with promise and danger, and James feels it dance along his skin like lightning. He doesn’t say anything as they continue to stare at each other, but it’s okay because now Remus and Sirius can continue without Regulus teasing them. 
“Not here,” Sirius sends a glare towards Regulus, who is paying him no mind now that James has his hands on him. “Do you want to go to the garden? Your flowers we planted are blooming. We can talk there.”
Intertwining their fingers, Remus nods with a smile. “I would love to.”
The two of them make their way towards the garden, but Sirius turns back at the last second, looking at James and Regulus who are still staring at one another. “James? You okay, mate?”
Snapping out of the haze, James flies away from Regulus as though he’s been bitten. He has to look at his hand to check that Regulus didn’t actually nip him. The boy sends that infuriatingly hot smirk his way, like he knows every dirty thing that James has ever thought about him, and James can feel himself beginning to sweat. 
“Yeah, I’m fine,” James responds, voice abnormally high pitched. “Think I’m going to go and play video games in your room.”
“Alright, mate! Have fun,” Sirius chirps before he’s dragging a sappy looking Remus along with him. 
The silence in the foyer is so loaded that James thinks he could fire a gun with it. He’s instantly brought back to half an hour ago when he was in the bathroom, steam clouding his judgement and Regulus leaning back against the wall, water dripping down his lithe body looking like the figment of James’ wildest dreams and worst intentions. 
It’s clear to him now, he wants to do the dirtiest, most filthy things to Regulus. 
It’s also clear that he can’t do them without possibly ruining his friendship with Sirius, so he nods once to Regulus and attempts to make his way back upstairs. Regulus’ voice stops him like a siren’s call, and James is but a lowly sailor lost at sea and begging for a miracle. “Wouldn’t you rather play with me, James?”
It’s all he can do not to groan aloud. “Regulus,” he strains, voice tight.
“It’s okay,” Regulus purrs, stalking forward like a predator until his front is up against James’ back. The older boy sucks in a sharp breath. “I know you want to, James. Just let go. Give in to me.”
The thought is so tempting. All James wants to do is turn around and press his lips to Regulus’ in a smouldering kiss. He wants to walk him backwards until he’s shoving Regulus harshly into a wall, licking his way into the boy’s mouth and pressing a thigh against his crotch. 
James whines at the thought, and he can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed at the sound when he feels Regulus smirk against his neck. He gasps when Regulus’ lips brush the sensitive skin of his neck, “Regulus.”
“I know you want me, James,” Regulus taunts, his naughty fingers brushing against James’ hips. “Turn around. You can have me.”
It’s the press of his soft lips against his neck that forcibly pulls James from the moment, eyes snapping open so quickly that he doesn't recall ever closing them. He practically jumps away from Regulus, the laughter that bubbles from his throat sounding more hysterical and breathless by the second.
He doesn’t turn around as he shouts, “Have to go! Great to see you again, Reg!”
James makes it two floors up in record speed, diving into Sirius’ double bed and groaning loudly. He ignores the aching problem in his trousers and tries to think of anything else. It’s a while before he can bring himself to unbury himself from the pillows of Sirius’ bed and actually play a game like he said. 
All he can think about is that he would much rather be playing with Regulus and how he won’t allow himself to. 
✧˖*°࿐
It’s the middle of the night, sometime past one o’clock, and James is wide awake.
After he’d spent most of the day playing video games alone, Sirius and Remus had entered his bedroom with matching grins and shiny red lips. James took one look at them before he lept up from the bean bag and pulled them both into a tight hug. He took great pleasure in telling both of them that he knew their feelings were reciprocated and that sitting watching them both pine was beyond painful, but that he’s happy they’re together now. 
Sirius looked incredibly put off that James had kept the secret from him, because they don’t do secrets, which in turn made James feel guilty because he was keeping his secret desires for his brother from him. James tries to reason with himself that he’s keeping it from him for his own good. After all, it isn’t like James is going to act on his feelings, so it’s never going to come to light. James is going to die with this secret. 
Remus looked pleased at the news that James had kept his secret, and James had pouted at him because really, Moony? Do you have such little faith in me? Remus had rolled his eyes and pulled James into his side. 
They spent the rest of the day talking about everything and anything, as they so usually do, but this time it was more geared towards Sirius and Remus and their endless yearning for one another. They played video games and spoke of the literature Remus was currently reading that James took an interest in. He'd recently read Pride and Prejudice and loved it, so Remus was giving him more recommendations every day. 
Once their conversation featured more yawning than words, Sirius had dragged the two of them into his bed and snuggled up facing Remus, pulling James close behind him and sighing in content when both boys wrapped their arms around his middle. Remus rolled his eyes at him before getting comfortable, a small yet happy smile on his face. James had snuggled right in, comforted by the familiar smell of Sirius’ shampoo and Remus’ cologne. 
He thought he’d sleep through the night soundly, but he was wrong. 
So now he lies awake on his back, staring at the ceiling because if he doesn’t then he’ll end up staring at the way Remus and Sirius are curled perfectly into one another like puzzle pieces. At some point, Sirius had turned around and Remus had pulled him tightly into the curve of his body, his face burying into Sirius’ neck almost possessively. 
James hadn’t felt like he was particularly welcome after that. 
He sighs dramatically, very happy for his friends but unable to stop the loneliness from creeping in. Fidgeting, he tries to get comfortable but ultimately he knows that it’s going to take a while for him to fall asleep again, if he ever will. Once he’s had enough of pretending to sleep, James carefully lifts the blanket from his body and sneaks out of the bed, cautious not to wake his two friends up in the process. 
He shuffles from the bed, careful not to stand on the floorboards that squeak or trip over the bean bags he knows they didn’t tidy up. Having been to Sirius’ house since he moved in years ago, treating it as his second home, James knows all the spots in the house that make noises, like the spot just in front of Sirius’ bedroom door, the fifth and eighth step in the staircase up to Regulus’ floor, and the three in a row on the staircase down to the kitchen. James hops over those but miscalculates due to his tiredness and accidentally steps on the third one. 
He winces as he pauses, waiting to hear the telltale sign that someone has woken up, and breathes a sigh of relief when he doesn’t hear anything. The house is still slumbering, as James wishes he was, which he’s thankful for because little Dora is a nightmare when she gets woken up. James completely understands because he, too, gets incredibly grumpy if he’s woken up randomly in the night. Sirius jokes that it’s the only time he isn’t a ray of sunshine. 
Manoeuvring his way quietly down the rest of the stairs, James pads into the kitchen and goes about getting himself a glass of water. He thinks he could find his way around this kitchen even if he was drunk, blindfolded and under some temporary spell of amnesia. 
Leaning against the counter, James admires the way the moon shines in through the windows. It’s full, James having to squint to make sure it is actually a full moon, and it looks ethereal sitting in the dark blue of the midnight sky. Looking up at it, James wonders if the moon ever gets lonely hanging in the sky by itself and he can’t help but feel like the moon sometimes. It’s surrounded by glistening stars and yet it is still alone, shining brightly. James wonders if it has a favourite star.
James sure does. 
A creak that sounds very similar to the one James caused on the stairs earlier interrupts his train of thought. He waits with bated breath to see who he’s going to have to have an awkward midnight conversation with and prays it isn’t Remus or Sirius, because he doesn’t know how to tell them that sharing a bed with them makes him feel lonely. 
He’s saved from that conversation when his favourite star walks through the archway. 
Regulus is as beautiful at night as he is in the day, only now he’s softened by sleep and looking deliciously rumpled. His pale skin gleams in the moonlight making him look like his namesake and James just wants to bask in his glow for the rest of his life.
He’s wearing the smallest shorts known to man, so little as they ride up his creamy thighs that James thinks they look more like underwear. Perhaps they are, but James’ brain has melted from his head and he’s now trying to operate without one. All he can manage to do is stare at Regulus unblinkingly. The boy still hasn’t noticed James as he shuffles in the kitchen, one hand combing through his dark hair, which gives the older boy more time to ogle.  
Besides the tiny shorts, Regulus is wearing a dark green crop top, a colour that too closely resembles his bath towel and James feels his face heat at the memory. His perfectly toned stomach is on display, showcasing his lithe figure and James is so tempted to give in to his desires and mark that skin. He wants to see the indents from his teeth littered all over that body.
But James is a gentleman and a good friend. He will not maul Regulus. He will not even entertain the idea. 
His luck runs out when he takes a rather large gulp of water and Regulus’ eyes snap to him immediately. He doesn’t do anything for a second, other than halt in his tracks with groggy eyes, but then he’s moving towards James with the determination of a snake waiting to strike. James knows that these animals have the patience to wait it out until the very best moment and he has no doubt that Regulus is willing to do just that. 
Eyes shining with promise and pleasure, Regulus stops a few feet in front of James. “Fancy seeing you here.”
James raises an eyebrow, looking more confident than he feels. “We’re in your house. It’s not really much of a surprise, is it?”
Humming, Regulus makes his way to the fridge to pour himself a glass of milk. Setting the carton down on the counter, he reaches up to grab a glass from the cabinet. James watches the way his cropped top rises even more, the hint of a pink nipple teasing him and he places the glass of water down before he does something stupid like drop it. 
He pours the milk into the glass, places the carton back in the fridge and then leans back against the counter, looking at James intensely. They’re further apart now, but the atmosphere in the kitchen is so delicate, so loaded that James feels like they’re trapped in a box together. He can smell Regulus from where he leans against the sink. He smells like seduction and ruin.
“I just assumed you’d be fast asleep with your boyfriend and his boyfriend.”
James rolls his eyes. “Sirius is not my boyfriend.”
Raising the glass of milk to his lips, Regulus shrugs. “Could have fooled me with all that kissing I heard earlier.”
“Are you jealous, Regulus?” James prods, knowing it’s likely to stir up something he can’t entertain but unable to stop himself. Maybe it’s because they’re here together in the dead of night under a full moon that James feels as though he might give into the insanity calling his name. 
When he lowers the glass there’s a little drop of milk sitting in the corner of his lips and James thinks he’s going to go crazy if he doesn’t lick it right now. Regulus places the glass down on the counter and stalks over to James very slowly, slinky and sensual like a cat. “You know I am, James.”
James feels his breathing quicken as Regulus doesn’t stop until he’s face to face with him, nose to nose like Regulus doesn’t realise how badly he’s affecting him right now. Or maybe he does and he doesn’t care. Maybe this is what he wanted all along. 
Regulus places his hands either side of James, effectively caging him in and ceasing any escape that James may attempt to make. He whispers into the quiet, tension filled space between them, James’ shaky breathing the only sound other than his voice. “Maybe now you won’t run away from me, baby.”
“Regulus,” James breathes, bumping his nose against Regulus’ as the younger boy toys with him, bringing his face closer to James’ as though he’s going to kiss him and then pulling away again. “We can’t do this.”
Smirking at the already worked up state, Regulus stares into James’ hooded brown eyes. “We can. Just let go, James. I know you want this. Why not just give in?”
Speaking hushedly, James’ eyes flutter against his will, breathless at the intensity of the silver eyes staring him down. “I can’t. Sirius would never forgive me.”
Regulus groans quietly, hands flexing where they’re gripping the counter. “Sirius has nothing to do with this.”
“You’re his brother, Regulus. And I’m his best friend. I’m not meant to feel what I do for his younger brother.”
“And what is it that you feel, James?” Regulus asks, one hand sneaking along the counter to rest at James’ hip. “Tell me, what do you feel for me? Is it platonic?” James whines softly and shakes his head. Regulus continues, “Tell me, James. Tell me what you want.”
“I want to ruin you,” James breathes passionately, his already weak resolve crumbling pathetically. “I feel like every time I’m near you I’m going to go insane because all I want to do is reach out and kiss you. I want to consume you whole. I want to do every wicked, filthy thing I’ve ever thought about and let you do even worse to me. When I saw you in the bathroom I wanted nothing more than to join you in that shower and fuck you against the wall. Regulus, I dream of you and nothing else.”
Regulus’ breath hitches and he fails to stifle the moan that threatens to leave his throat at the dirty words James says to him. He can’t help the way his hips stutter forward and press into James’, their bodies aligned against the counter top. “Fuck, James. I want that too. I want it all.”
“But that’s not all,” James gasps at the feeling of hardness that rocks into his own. “I want to stay up talking to you about everything and nothing. I want to sleep in your bed and pull you into my arms as we fall asleep. I want you to explain the essay you’re writing for your literature degree and all the books you love. I want to impress you with my knowledge of Pride and Prejudice so much that you kiss me. I want to go on walks with you, have picnics and lick every insult from your lips as you berate me for being sappy and idiotic. I want you to be mine not just for the night but forever.”
“James,” Regulus responds before he’s crashing his lips to James’, moaning in delight as the older boy responds instantly, his hands coming up to cup Regulus’ jaw. He mumbles into James’ mouth, “You fucking idiot, I’ve been in love with you since I was fifteen.”
✧˖*°࿐
(part two?)
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dooxliss · 5 months
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stupidnaturals · 1 year
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#GAH hate not knowing how ppl feel about me#bc i used to be SUPER close friends w this person like they were ~25% of th reason i came back to my uni town after moving away last summer#and i keep texting them like ' hey we should meet up sometime! ' and they respond ' omg YES 100% i have SO much i need to catch you up on !#unfortunately i am out of town every single day. also so busy. '#and like yeah okay college very busy life very crazy. but how are you out of town every single day and also why have you NEVER reached out#and i saw them in person at target and they seemed genuinely pleased to see me! and also said something like#' we gotta hang out i have so much to tell you!! *ill* message *you* ' in a way that seemed to convey guilt at ^^ all that#but then how in the WORLD do you happen to be driving out of town immediately after the one event i know we'll both be going to???#and also casually gracing over the fact i also mentioned getting dinner beforehand??#also i dont know any reason they wouldnt like me unless its one of those ' im autistic and didnt notice you getting fed up w me '#or if theyre just actually that busy or too anxious to see people or anxious to reach out or fucking whatever#and like even when i saw them at target they told me a bunch of stuff that i dont tthink youd say to a random acquaintance#which if they do still like me makes sense! bc we were super duper close once! but doesnt make sense if they dislike me/want me to go away#like UGH just either ask me to hang out or say yes to a hang out or tell me to fuck off already!!!!#oh and ALSO the one time we DID have plans we didnt set an exact time but they texted me at like 11 and said ok we can hang out now until 2#or they texted me at 11 and said ' i work at 2 but i dont think thats gonna be a problem also are you okay w hanging w my roomies too '#and i know their roomies so thats fine but i was like ??? WHAT shouldnt be an issue? r you gonna call off to hang out for more than 3 hrs?#or are you gonna friend break up w me so it wont take 3 hours#anyway i was like uhhh shit we didnt set a time so im actually at a tattoo place like an hour away w my roomie?#so we rescheduled for the next day when uh oh they hung out w someone who was exposed to covid so had to cancel again!#i cant think of a single reason they wouldnt like me except that they never did but we had an activity together so they were stuck w me#and they seemed genuinely happy to see me and also seem upset declining plans but like if thats true what the FUCK is happening????#anyway this was a mile long if you e read this far i love u if you have tips feel free to reply or dm me
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keets-writing-corner · 4 months
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Thinking a LOT about Lucifer in the latest Hazbin episode. Idk what I was expecting but not this??
As I was watching my immediate thought was just "huh... Lucifer is kinda of weird..." but as the episode went on I realized the issue
the dude is off the chain depressed, like he says it as a joke but holy cow it is SO BAD
He's manically just creating rubber ducks cuz his daughter really like it that one time but it's empty, it's never good enough but he keeps doing it, maybe cuz he doesn't know how to pass the time otherwise.
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like I get the feeling he HAS better things he SHOULD be doing than making rubber duck after rubber duck. At first I was like, "Bruh why isn't the king of hell doing anything?" aaaaand then it became clear...
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The dude is disassociating so bad he can barely hold a conversation let alone remember information. He clearly WANTS to, he wants to be involved with his daughter so bad, he wants to care about the things she's doing so bad, but his depression keeps interfering. It's like he can only hear every other word and he grasps onto the ones he does hear semi-out of context. Like you can see every time he catches something that he hadn't before and he just "well shit I didn't catch that part"
and that's why he reacts so weird when people talk to him. He is struggling so bad to engage with the conversation he's only getting 50% of it
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does that look like the face of a man who knows what the hell the conversation is even about??? he is STRUGGLING
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like Charlie spent so long telling him about the hotel, and he STILL didn't understand what she wanted. Yeah it comes off as ditzy but literally I've been in that position where your brain just "nope, not doing this right now" and nerfs your conversation comprehension. So as someone who's BEEN in that position, to me it feels exactly like what he's dealing with. He's sorta engaged with the conversation, but only as much as his brain will allow
For example, when I'm dealing with this, this is what someone talking to me feels like this where the crossed out parts are what I missed and bold is what I catch, "Hey! You know I was thinking for dinner we could either make some chicken with rice? But if you don't feel like cooking, pasta is super easy and you love that right? What do you want to do?" you can kinda get that someone is trying to talk to you about dinner, and towards the end you get the impression that they asked something that needs your input so you can decently put 2 and 2 together and try and pass off, but crucial bits were left out, I would have no idea that either chicken or pasta is in the conversation only having heard "rice". When someone is just talking at me, I can decently pass off as being engaged but the second I'm required to participate in the conversation I'm screwed. Seem familiar? At which point I have 2 options, try to give a bullshit answer, or admit that I missed what they were saying and ask them to repeat
Lucifer, unfortunately, is trying so damn hard to hide that he's dealing with like 24/7 dissociation, so he can't admit that he's missing entire chunks of the conversation, hence his really weird replies. He does eventually get the full picture and then he and Charlie start having the real conversation
Also, the Alastor/Lucifer rivalry was hilarious but also really indicative of more of what Lucifer is dealing with
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Alastor is, unfortunately, really good at picking up people's insecurities, and thanks to Charlie's description earlier and watching Lucifer clearly trying to overcompensate, he immediately picks up on the fact that Lucifer KNOWS he struggles to be a good dad (we know cuz it's cuz of the depression, hard to be engaged when your brain keeps turning off) and decides to rub salt in the wound by pretending he's been acting as a surrogate father to Charlie. Now why Alastor decided to pick a fight with the king of hell is beyond me, I do not understand Alastor (and I LIKE IT) (maybe it's cuz Alastor thinks he's hot shit and was expecting Lucifer to at least have heard of him but Lucifer just treats him like a nobody? who knows)(why would Lucifer listen to radio anyways when he can't even pay attention to a conversation it'd just be white noise)
But yeah I just was expecting someone who oozed either charisma or presence and instead I got a depressed dad who's dissociating so bad he can barely function and be present in his life. The only thing it seems he CAN do is make rubber ducks cuz his daughter really liked it that one time
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Idk Lucifer is tragic to me. Whatever the full details of what heavan did to him absolutely broke him and he can't deal with it. He's aware of it, and he doesn't know how to fix it, so he tries to over compensate and sorta makes an ass out of himself but no one says or does anything cuz this guy is supposed to be THE king of hell
Suddenly it's making a lot more sense why he just rolls over and lets heaven do what it wants and even told Charlie to go in his place the start of the show. He's not in any headspace to hold a basic conversation let alone negotiate! He didn't even know who Alastor was, he's been so out of touch
idk I like him, he seems sweet, I hope Charlie brings some light back into his life. He really needs to get out of that rubber duck room
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wheresarizona · 1 month
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but I would die for you in secret
summary: The relationship you have with Joel Miller is… complicated, and you’re not entirely sure what to even call it. There’s the fact no one can know, so his kid doesn’t find out, and you’re pretty sure he’s ashamed of your age difference—he’s not your boyfriend, but you only fuck each other; this thing started months ago, and Joel does not like it when men give you attention, because he wants you all to himself. But again, he’s not your sexy, older boyfriend.
pairing: Joel Miller/f!reader
rating: E (18+!! No y/n, porn with some plot, explicit smut, Possessive Joel Miller, Joel being a lil dominant, age gap (unspecified, reader is an adult), secret relationship, sneaking around, accidental voyeurism, edging, orgasm denial, mutual masturbation, dirty talk (so much), oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), rough sex, explicit consent, creampie, spanking, spit as lube, love confession, Good Parent Joel Miller, Ellie giving Joel so much shit, TLOU AU where Joel doesn’t lie to Ellie and they’re good when they get back to Jackson)
word count: 7.1k+
a/n: Hey! I needed a break from my long fic that I’ve been writing nonstop for five months, and I was really missing Joel and Ellie, so here we are. I hope you enjoy! Thank you to @juletheghoul for betaing!
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!
Next - Series Masterlist - Masterlist
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The relationship you have with Joel Miller is… complicated.
To start with, there’s the age difference. It doesn’t bother you at all, and why should it? You’re both consenting adults who know what they want, but he’s got this idea in his head that he shouldn’t be chasing someone so much younger than him and that you should be with somebody your own age—he mentions this almost every single time you’re alone together, and you've learned a simple flash of your tits or a sudden kiss will make those thoughts disappear.
Then there's the fact he isn't your boyfriend, yet you only fuck each other. His days are spent working whatever job he’s assigned here in Jackson and he’s at your place most nights after his daughter goes to bed—however, that’s a secret; No one can know about you two, even though Joel’s a tiny bit possessive and doesn't take kindly to other men giving you attention; which you're not one to judge because you can't stand when women flirt with him, especially Sandra, his next-door neighbor who won't leave him the fuck alone after the many times he’s told her he’s not interested.
So, again, he's not your boyfriend, but neither of you wants to fuck anyone else; whatever this thing is between you has been going on for over eight months, and he doesn’t want people to know you’re together—yet, any time he catches a man being too friendly with you, there's a 100% chance a grumpier than usual Joel will show up at your house that night, and at some point, while he’s fucking your brains out, he'll let a 'Mine' slip out.
Clearly, you have some kind of relationship with him, and it borders somewhere between fuck buddies and him being your boyfriend; where it gets confusing is it's not all sex with him. If his kid is staying over at a friend's, he'll show up at yours earlier than normal, and usually, with a movie he hadn't seen since the world ended or a record he thought you'd enjoy that you both listen to all the way through for him to tell you facts and anecdotes that he could possibly be the only person on the entire planet who knows.
If you need anything fixed around your house, he'll do it, and sometimes you don't even have to ask. You'll mention something, and the next thing you know, he's at your front door with a toolbox—sometimes, he uses doing repairs as a ruse so people will see him arriving at your place with his tools when, in actuality, he’s there to spend the day with you.
You’re also probably the only person, unrelated to him, he has actual conversations with; there’s hardly any grumbling or muttering.
There is a reason he won't acknowledge you’re dating, and it's his sixteen-year-old daughter whom he doesn't want to know he has a love life—it's to where Joel's basically taken the role of the rebellious teenager, sneaking out of his own home in the middle of the night to ensure she's unaware he left.
It's an accumulation of factors why she can't know. The big two, you think, are your age, and you know for sure he doesn't want Ellie to think she'll be any less important to him or that he's abandoning her if he's seeing someone—he worries she won’t take it well, and from what you know she's been through, you can understand why he’s being so protective.
Do you wish you could openly be in a relationship with Joel? Sure, it'd make you happy to shove it in Sandra, his stupid neighbor's face that he's taken.
That isn't a possibility, though, and honestly, what the two of you have is good, so you're not going to make a fuss about labels.
It's been a few nights since Joel has snuck over to your place, and you know why he hasn't stopped by—Ellie—she's sick with a cold, and to put things mildly, her father is freaking the fuck out that it could turn into something worse, and he won't let her out of his sight.
Now, if a person didn't want their child to know they were dating anyone, they’d keep them separated, right? Well, you live across the street from them—that's how you met Joel; he saw someone had moved into the tiny one-bedroom, one-bath home across from his and came over to introduce himself—and since you live across the way from him, and Ellie, the two of you have this, 'Just being a good neighbor,’ act, where any interactions you have in public, are under the guise that you’re just friendly neighbors. So, Ellie has spoken to you many times and has even invited you to hang out and eat meals with them at their house or in the mess hall, where Joel always does his damndest to act indifferent.
Joel left a simple note three days ago stating Ellie was feeling under the weather on your front door. The next day, you stopped by, as the good neighbor you are, to drop off some chicken soup you convinced the kitchen at the mess hall to make. Joel had let you in with a ‘Thanks’ and took the large bowl from you to the kitchen, and you followed the sounds of sniffles to the living room, where you found the teenager wrapped in a blanket on the couch, her stuffed-up voice exclaiming when she saw you in relief you were there so she’d have someone other than her dad to look at or talk to; obviously, she was tired of him, and with how he was hovering, and fussing over her like a mother hen, you would’ve been tired of him, too.
The man had bags under his worried eyes and looked like he hadn’t slept since she’d gotten sick. After he served her some soup and saw she was eating it, Ellie and you convinced him to take a nap while you hung out with his kid—the kid you’ve had a suspicion for a while knows there’s something up between you and her father, simply because every time the two of you are alone, she grills you about your love life.
The thing is, she always fishes for information you won’t give her, but she never seems bothered by the prospect of Joel dating; frankly, she’s supportive and wants him to be happy. However, that wasn’t something you could tell him because he’d probably end things with you immediately, so you’d have to wait for them to eventually have a heart-to-heart for him to find out—which, you’re not holding your breath with how bad they both are at talking to each other about their feelings.
And now it’s been over three days since you last got laid, and after having great sex regularly, the horniness is hitting you hard tonight, and you need to come.
It might be the dead of winter, but you’ve pushed the blankets to the end of your queen-sized bed, the old sheets not as soft as you imagined they’d once been when they were new, your bare, heated skin pressing into them. You’re lying in the middle of the mattress, your head cushioned by a pillow that’d lost its firmness long ago, your naked legs spread while your fingers rub at your swollen clit just right, the others pinching at your pebbled nipple to have the pleasure welling up inside you. You’ve been biting your bottom lip so much it’s sore, your breaths panting from your lungs, the wood stove in the living room keeping your house warm, and that, combined with your arousal, has a thin layer of sweat coating your body.
Sure, you can get yourself off, but the orgasm will be nowhere near as good as what Joel coaxes from you; it’ll take the edge off, at least, so you’ll feel a little better.
For the last hour, you’ve been building yourself up, almost hitting your peak, and stopping, edging yourself over and over again to try to make yourself come as hard as you can by your own hand to assuage some of your need—the sheets are wet under your ass where you’ve dripped onto them.
Your heart is pounding in your chest, thinking about that one night Joel saw some guy about your age at the bar laying it on thick to get you to leave with him, and how after you turned him down and left, a familiar presence followed you along the dark streets. You had to keep quiet when those big, gun-calloused hands you knew all too well pulled you into the stable that had nobody in it except the horses—Joel fucked you from behind against a wall, having to brace yourself with your arms on it. You remembered his palm over your mouth to muffle your sounds and him blanketing himself over your back to have his lips at your ear while he pounded into you hard and fast, quietly grunting about how you were his and that no one could make you feel as good as he did. There was no forgetting how his cock stretched open your cunt, or how before he sheathed himself inside you, you heard him spit on his fingers to slick himself up; the way he made you come around him while he circled your clit with those same digits. The memory of how he’d worked himself up so much he’d forgotten to pull out and spilled deep in your pussy, has you so close to coming by your hand you moan loudly, “Joel.”
“Stop,” the familiar gruff voice makes your eyes snap open as you gasp, immediately sitting up on your elbows.
There at the foot of the bed is the man on your mind—he must’ve taken off his winter jacket in the living room—his green flannel shirt is gaping from most of the buttons being undone, revealing his chest, his grey waves of hair looking to be slightly damp from melted snowflakes. What steals your attention is the fact his jeans are unbuttoned and open, and he’s slowly stroking his hard dick; from how the tip is angry red, leaking precum, and his shaft shines, he’s been watching and jerking off for some time.
“Joel,” his name comes out as a whisper, and your eyes flick up to his, finding them dark and staring hungrily between your legs at your glistening cunt.
You’re so happy to see him you’re not even mad he ruined your orgasm, knowing he’ll make it up to you.
“How many times have you made yourself come while I’ve been busy?” he asks, finally meeting your gaze, his expression grumpy.
“No-none,” you stammer.
His eyebrow lifts. “You lyin’ to me, sweetheart?”
“No.” You shook your head. “Are you mad at me…?”
His face pinches in confusion. “What? No. I’m not mad at you, baby. I’m mad at myself for leavin’ you hangin’.” He undoes the last two buttons on his shirt and shrugs it off for it to fall to the floor, pushing down his pants to step out of them, now standing before you completely naked.
His body is a tapestry of littered scars that tell of his fight to survive this long, some from injuries you’re sure should’ve killed him. Yet, somehow, if by spite or the grace of God, he managed to stay alive—your fingers have traced many of them, mapping the silvery and pink lines in the quiet of the night with only the glow of a bedside lamp. With what people have to do in order to keep living these days, they rarely like to share the stories behind their close calls to death. Still, there’s a jagged scar low on the right side of his stomach lesser men would have died from, you noticed the first time he took his shirt off, and you always wanted to know the story of. Surprisingly, he told you how he got it a few months into this not-not relationship when you asked.
Excitement pools in your belly, your pussy throbbing needily, watching as he climbs onto the bed to kneel in front of you, between your legs, down by your ankles.
“Touch yourself,” he orders and takes himself in hand again, languidly pumping his cock. “I wanna watch you make yourself come; then I’m gonna show you how I’m better than everyone, includin’ you, at gettin’ you off.”
Your cunt clenches because he is better, and the promise has you doing as he said, sliding your hand down to the apex of your thighs to rub your clit the way you like while you watch him fist his shaft. This isn’t the first time he’s watched you touch yourself, and you’re sure if it was anyone else, you’d feel embarrassed, but with how the desire is clear as he stares at what you’re doing, it spurs you on.
Having been so close to coming when he told you to stop, and now, it’s turning you on so much that he’s jacking off to what you’re doing, all of it is building you back up quickly, the familiar heat growing at the base of your spine.
“Just like that, baby,” he rasps and wets his bottom lip. “Keep rubbin’ that pretty pussy—did you miss me?”
“Yes.”
He hums in the back of his throat. “Missed how good I make you feel—how I stretch open that perfect cunt with my cock? Do I fuck you so good, you were thinkin’ about me to make yourself come?”
The strokes of his hand sound wetter, your arousal drooling onto the bedding while the muscles in your belly begin to tighten.
“Yes,” you gasp.
“That’s right, you were. So fuckin’ pretty spread out like this for me—I wanna taste you, shove my face in your pussy, and drown in it; just look at how you’re drippin’ for me.”
“Joel,” you moan. You’re so close it’s not going to take much more.
“God, I fuckin’ missed that sound; I missed hearin’ your voice and how good you smell, how soft your skin is, and the few hours I get to sleep next to you—come for me, baby. Come all over your fingers, and I’ll give you my dick—I’ll make those gorgeous eyes roll back in your head and give it to you so good, I ruin you for anyone else.”
He’s already ruined you for anyone else, and you doubt there’s another who’d fuck you as good as him.
It’s the thought that he’s yours and no one else can have him like this that sends you over the edge, your body seizing up as you come, pleasure erupting from your center as you moan his name.
He doesn’t give you a chance to recover, batting away your hand to dive in and bury his face in your wet heat. He shoves his tongue inside your soaked hole, groaning loudly as he laps at your come, your body trembling when he drags the flat of it up through your folds to suck your clit between his lips. Your fingers press into his hair, soft sounds leaving your throat at how good it feels.
The one orgasm isn’t enough—you need more, his mouth igniting arousal to burn hot in your belly, making you feel achingly empty. He’s licking up every bit of your need, coating your sex, moving to flick his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves. You’re feeling greedy; what he’s doing isn’t enough, and you want, no, need him inside you.
You pull at his hair as you tell him in a somewhat whiny tone, “Fuck me, Joel—stop making me wait.”
His chuckle vibrates into your sensitive skin before he rises to kneel with a groan. “Impatient.” He smacks your thigh. “Flip, ass up.” And it’s not a suggestion, his hands on your waist helping you to roll over, pulling your backside up into the air while your torso is against the sheets. Your knees are sinking into the bed and spread a little, putting yourself on display for him, the mattress jostling when he shuffles forward, feeling his body heat behind you. His palm lands on your asscheek hard, the sharp sting making you moan. “Now, ask me nicely to fuck you.”
You should’ve known he wouldn’t care for your lack of manners.
Your head is resting on your crossed arms in front of you.
“Joel, will you please fuck me?” you ask as sweetly as possible.
“Yes.”
The sound of him spitting on his fingers meets your ears, and you know he’s slicking himself up. One of his hands holds your hip, the other guiding his cock through the lips of your pussy to wet it even more, nudging your clit—it doesn’t seem like he’s in a mood to tease too much. Your eyes slip shut when he notches himself at your entrance and starts slowly feeding himself into you, your tight, velvety walls expanding to take the considerable girth of him, whining as he fills you. He slides all the way home, your cunt throbbing around him.
“Fuck, that’s good,” he groans. “Is this what your needy little pussy wanted?”
“Yes,” you moan.
He’s as deep as he can go and pulls out until just the tip remains, and slams back into you hard enough to knock the air from your lungs—oh, this is going to be one of those times where he fucks you to the point your legs are too shaky to walk on afterward. The pace he sets is deliciously brutal and has your eyes rolling back, all thoughts leaving your brain, unable to think with how he’s pressing into so many heavenly spots, his grip tight on your waist.
The sounds in the room are obscene—the springs beneath you are squeaking, and there’s the noisy slap of his hips colliding with your ass, Joel grunting with each dull smack of his skin to yours, while you gasp out moans.
He’s fucking you so good, your orgasm is already taking shape, its fiery tendrils tightening in your core with each stroke.
“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he says through gritted teeth. “You’re so fuckin’ wet—I could live in this perfect pussy.”
His hand slaps your ass hard enough the crack echoes amongst the four walls, the sweet pain making you clench around him and press back into his thrusts, crying out his name.
“Does it feel good, baby?” he asks. “Did you miss getting fucked like this? You love this—this pussy is mine, isn’t it? You’re mine.”
He’s not wrong; you are his, and all you can do is mewl in reply, waves of your arousal seeping down his shaft to catch on his balls.
His gun-calloused hands adjust on your hips to get a better grip, pulling you back each time his dick impales you, fucking you harder and faster, hearing him panting behind you—the wet sounds of him working himself in and out of your drenched cunt, are loud, and lewd.
You’re so close; you’re just needing—
Joel leans forward to get his hand under your body to the swollen pearl of your clit, circling it how he knows you like it.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he grits out. “Let me have it—soak my cock with your come. Let me feel you—I know you’re almost there.”
That’s it—the knot in your belly winds tighter and tighter until the tension snaps, and you fall over the edge with a silent cry, your pussy clamping down on him hard enough that it slows his rhythm almost to a stop. Joel groans loudly while euphoria explodes out from your center, feeling it spread to your fingers and toes. Your brain goes blissfully blank, and your legs tremble under you like a leaf in the wind.
A gasp leaves you when he suddenly pulls out and flips you onto your back, taking his place between your spread thighs. He puts your legs high on his ribs, holding his weight on one arm while his other hand sheaths himself back inside you.
It’s not surprising that you’ve found yourself under his hulking frame with his hips snapping in and out of you—when you open your eyes, his are closed, his expression looking pained, and it’s his broad shoulders and head that take up your vision. This is how Joel wanted to fuck you from the start, but he’s a gentleman and did your preferred position first.
Your fingernails end up digging into the skin of his shoulder blades for something to hold on to, and he kisses over your chest to duck his head, wrapping his lips around a stiff nipple and sucking on it, the shock of pleasure causing a moan to slip from your throat. His breaths are heavy, and you know he won’t last much longer.
Your voice is hoarse when you speak, telling him what you know he needs to hear, “I missed you, Joel.” He whines. “I want you to come for me.”
His mouth leaves your breast to crash against yours, and you’d been wondering how long he’d go without kissing you—something about kissing while he fucks makes him come faster; maybe it’s the intimacy?
He’s told you the last woman he was with back in Boston wouldn’t kiss him because sex between them was just scratching an itch, and she wasn’t looking for anyone to replace her dead husband.
All you know is Joel loves kissing and touching—he’s admitted that he sleeps best with you snuggled against his back as the big spoon, which, you’ll never tell him, you think is adorable with how he scares people enough, they move out of his way when he walks down the street.
His kisses are fervent, and you give just as good as you get, welcoming his tongue when it presses between your lips, his pace speeding up. You love having him inside you, the way he fits all nice and snug to fill you completely. This is what you’ve been needing, and it’s perfect.
When his rhythm gets uneven, you expect him to pull out at any second to spill his release on your belly. What he does next, you’re not expecting.
Joel shoves his face into the crook of your neck, his facial hair scratching your skin, feeling his hot breaths.
He says something that’s too muffled to make out, so you pull on his hair to make him lift his head, finding his eyes dark and glazed over, looking totally and completely wrecked. His pace slows to him rocking in and out of you.
“What did you say?” you ask.
“Can I—” he pants. “Fuck, can I come inside you?”
The question has your tight walls constricting around him.
“Fuck,” Joel hisses, his eyes closing. “Please, can I?” he asks again.
The answer that immediately pops into your brain is ‘yes,’ but thinking about how the only times this man has finished inside you in the past were all accidents, you’re worrying he’s just pussy drunk and not thinking straight; that if you fell pregnant, something you didn’t mind, he’ll regret it.
“Are you sure?” you ask.
He looks at you and nods. “Yes, I know—” The consequences, he leaves unsaid. “—please.”
“Then yes, come for me, Joel—fill me up.”
He raggedly moans, his face falling into your neck again. His thrusts speed up and become frantic as he pounds into you, your heels digging into his ass, feeling the muscles flex. He works himself up until he presses into you one last time as deep as possible and comes with a guttural groan—his dick jerks inside you, and the hot spurts of his spend gush into your depths, filling you up. Electricity zips down your spine as you moan, your tight walls throbbing around him while he grinds his hips, fucking his come deeper.
The weight of his body is welcome when he eventually slumps onto you, and instinctively, your fingers slide into his hair, scratching your nails lovingly against his scalp, the man practically purring on top of you.
For the first time in three days, you feel happy and finally sated, loving how he’s stuffed you full of his cock, and come. There’s no talking as your heartbeats slow together and your breathing evens out, basking in each other’s presence. Your eyes are closed, and you’re choosing to ignore your shaky limbs.
It’s hard to imagine a life without Joel, which is odd since up until this point, most of it had been spent without him, or anyone really. What you actually mean is you don’t want to imagine a life without Joel and Ellie—you think she’s a great kid, and you have a soft spot for her; plus, she and her dad are a package deal. Then there’s Joel, who you’re absolutely and completely in love with, and it bothers you that you don’t know what this relationship between you is or if he even feels the same as you.
Minutes pass, the old, wooden bones of your house creaking as the winter wind gusts outside.
“Joel?” you break the silence.
“Mhmm?” he hums, nuzzling into your throat.
“What are we?”
“Huh?”
“What are we? Like, what is this thing that we’re doing?”
His head lifts, and he pulls out, rolling off you to lie beside you on his back, pressing his hands to his face.
“Somethin’ I shouldn’t be doin’ in the first place,” he finally answers.
You turn on your side toward him, propping your head up on your arm. “Take my age out of the equation.”
His palms lift, and he looks at you confused. “What do you mean?”
“For some fucking reason, you are stuck on my age—take it out of the equation; if that wasn’t a factor, would you openly date me?”
“Well, there’s Ellie—”
“—let’s pretend she doesn’t give a fuck about your love life,” you cut him off, “and actually wants you to be happy, and my age doesn’t matter—would you openly date me?”
“Yes.”
“So, you have feelings for me?”
“Of course.”
“Do you love me…?”
“Yes,” he whispers, covering his face again.
One word has your heart picking up in speed.
“I love you, too.”
His head whips in your direction with an expression of bewilderment.
“What?” he asks.
“I’m in love with you—have been for a while, and I’m fine with doing what we’ve been doing if that’s the only way I can be with you, but I kinda, sorta, would like it if you thought of us as a couple, and weren’t ashamed of me…”
A secret relationship? You’re fine with that. But Joel being ashamed of you? It fucking hurts.
“I’m not ashamed of you,” he says too quickly.
“Joel, if Ellie were okay with you having a love life, you wouldn’t openly date me because of how old I am—I’d just continue being your dirty little secret that one other person knows about.”
His eyes dart away, and the sigh he lets out is long and weary.
“I’m not ashamed of you,” he says. “I’m ashamed of myself for fallin’ for you and not bein’ able to give you the future you deserve. I just felt like I was stringin’ you along when you could be with someone who can offer you more, but I’m so fuckin’ selfish.” He looks at you. “I want you, and I don’t want anyone else to have you—I can’t let you go, even though I should cut you free.”
Your fingers brush back the sweat-soaked hair on his forehead. “I don't want anyone else, Joel—I want you, and you’re not stringing me along. I’m happy with you and any future I can have with you and Ellie.”
He’s frowning. “If only it were that simple,” he sighs.
This is a conversation you thought might make him end things with you, but maybe giving him a slight nudge will be okay—at least, you hope it will.
“It is that simple,” you tell him. “I’m gonna tell you something that if you can work up the nerve to talk to her about, she'll confirm it.”
His eyebrows furrow. “What?”
“Ellie doesn’t care if you date. She’s told me she wishes you weren’t such an asshole ‘cause then the only negative thing about you is how ugly you are, and people love ugly things all the time, and if someone loves you, then you won’t die alone, plus it’d hopefully make you happy, and she really wants you to be happy—that’s pretty much what she said word-for-word.”
His eyes close, and the sigh that leaves him is that of a father who’s real tired of their child’s shit, and you smile.
“That’s Ellie,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I’m not even sure how I should be feelin’ right now.”
“I hoped you’d be relieved at least, possibly even happy.”
He looks at you. “Yeah, I’m relieved and happy but also a little ticked at her embarrassin’ me like that.”
Scooting closer to him, you lay half on top of him with your arms folded on his chest, resting your chin on them to stare at his pretty face.
“Don’t be embarrassed. It was said out of love—she loves you.”
He sighs again, wrapping his arms around your bare back.
“I guess she does, even if she’s mean. Jesus, I can’t believe I just needed to talk to her sooner.”
“That’s usually how things work—it’s called communication, and you should talk to her.”
His eyes narrowed, and he smacked your ass, making you giggle. “There’s no need for the sass, sweetheart, and I was plannin’ on bitin’ the bullet and tellin’ her about us in the next couple of days.”
Your eyes widened. “You were? What?”
“Yeah, uh, I had a hard time with Ellie bein’ sick, and when you came over, I didn’t feel like I was goin’ insane with worry. Havin’ you there made it better, and I missed you.” His lips dip in a frown.
“I missed you, too—you were really gonna tell her?”
“I was.” He nods. “With how happy she was to see you, I thought maybe she’d be okay with it.” He shrugs.
You smile. “I think you’re right,” you reply, giving him a quick kiss. Meeting his gaze, you ask, “Is she feeling better?”
“Yeah, and thank Christ, she is.” He looks visibly relieved. “I think it was that soup you brought over—thank you for that and for givin’ me a chance to sleep.” He pecks you on the lips.
“It was no problem. I would’ve been there the entire time had it not been suspicious.”
He smiles. “I know.”
“Good. Sooo, I’m wondering, what are we now?”
“A couple,” he answers. “I’ve thought that for a while, but I’m too fuckin’ old to be callin’ myself your boyfriend.”
“I quite like having a sexy, older boyfriend.”
You squeak in surprise when he rolls you onto your back, your legs automatically opening for him to nestle his hips between. He’s holding himself up with his arms beside your head while yours loop around his neck, his lips pressing to the side of your throat, kissing the taut skin.
“You like havin’ a sexy, older boyfriend, huh?” His question is muffled, and you swallow hard when he sucks on your pulse point.
“I do,” you reply.
“I like havin’ you.” He’s kissing and nibbling along your jaw.
“‘Cause no one else can?”
He nips your chin, then hovers his head over yours to look you in the eyes.
His expression is serious. “Yes,” he says, “and I love you—if Ellie really doesn’t give a shit about me datin’, then every fuckin’ person in town is gonna know you’re mine.”
And something about that declaration thrills you.
“I’d like that.”
He gives you a small smile and kisses you for a moment before a thought comes to him, and he pulls back to meet your gaze.
“Maybe that neighbor, the annoyin’ one who doesn’t seem to know the meanin’ of no, will finally get it through her head, I’m not fuckin’ interested.”
You glare off into the distance. “Fucking Sandra,” you seethe.
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The first time he met you, Joel knew he was fucked.
All he wanted to do was be polite and introduce himself to his new neighbor, then you opened the door, and his brain stopped working because you were so beautiful. It didn’t help when you blatantly checked him out, clearly undressing him with your eyes before looking entirely too pleased with what you were seeing.
If he’d been a stronger, honorable man, he wouldn’t have accepted your offer to come inside for a drink; he wouldn’t have kissed you back or laid you down on the couch to eat your pussy; he wouldn’t have let you choke on his dick or crawl into his lap and ride him; he wouldn’t have gotten so lost in being buried in your wet, warm, perfect cunt and your lips on his that he forgot to pull out when he came; he wouldn’t have gotten addicted and returned to you almost every night after.
If he’d been a stronger, honorable man, he would’ve ended things before it went too far and definitely before he fell in love with you.
From the beginning, he knew he was way too old for you, and he didn’t understand why you wanted him or kept letting him into your house. He had nothing to offer you, yet even when the opportunities arose for you to go home with men your own age, you rejected them and welcomed him into your bed instead. It made little sense that someone as young and beautiful as you would give someone like him all of your attention.
He’s lost count of how many times he’s told you that you’d be better off with somebody younger than him. It’s usually when he remembers your age or when you don’t know what he’s talking about when he brings up certain things from how life was before it all went to hell. He says the words out loud, practically a reflex at this point when the guilt gets to him, and as quickly as the feeling comes, it goes because, as he told you, he’s selfish; he doesn’t want you with someone else; he wants you all to himself. When you tell him there isn’t anyone you’d rather be with than him, it feeds something deep inside of him that won’t let you go, and hearing you say you love him has only made it stronger—you have his total devotion.
Ellie being sick messed up his head enough that in the moments when you came to mind, he was plagued with the thought that you probably found someone new. The only time he felt a modicum of peace was when you stopped by, and with that and how much his kid loved you being there, and in general, he came to the conclusion he couldn’t lose you:
It was time for him to tell Ellie.
Joel isn’t delusional; you’d grow tired of only getting his nights and the occasional day, eventually, and he needed to give you more of himself, which required his daughter to know about your relationship.
If Ellie knew, then he could give you more.
He’s ashamed of himself for hiding your relationship and, in turn, not having much to offer in terms of a future. It bothers him so much that he hasn’t been able to be with you out in the open because you deserve better than being his dirty little secret, as you call yourself.
He hates that.
He wants everyone to know you’re his and that he is yours.
When he realized he was going to tell Ellie, he started imagining how your relationship would change. You could finally have a life together, and it had him thinking about things he never would’ve considered before you and actively tried to prevent in the past, but you didn’t mind the idea of bringing a new life into the world, and he thought that might not be so bad; Jackson’s safe, and he has no doubt you’ll be a great mother—and it’s a future he’s pretty sure you want since your reactions have always been positive when he accidentally finishes inside you. That’s why tonight he decided to say fuck it and asked if he could; he wasn’t worried about the consequences anymore.
He’s kicking himself in the ass for not talking to Ellie sooner.
The only reason he hasn’t broached the subject with her is after what happened in Colorado, Joel’s treated her like she’s a fragile piece of glass that he doesn’t want to risk getting broken again—the way she lost her spark after that resort town killed him; and what happened at the hospital? If he had the chance, he’d murder every one of those Fireflies again for how fucked up she was when he told her their plans to kill her without knowing for sure if they could make a cure or not and that her life meant nothing to them.
It took a lot of time for him to put her back together again, and being in Jackson helped a lot with her making friends and having some semblance of normalcy. But he’s worried any major changes will mess her up, and add in her biggest fear of ending up alone, Joel dating seems like a recipe for disaster—Ellie will always be his top priority, even if it’s at the expense of his happiness.
It’s early morning, and he’s got another thirty minutes before the sun will begin its ascent on the horizon, fresh snow coating the ground, the temperature freezing. Joel is skulking home from your place to be there before Ellie wakes up.
His point of entry is the back door that leads into their kitchen, which doesn’t make as much noise as the front and can be locked when he leaves. He’s staying close to the side of the house, heading toward the backyard, and peeks around the corner to check the vicinity—his heart pounds when he sees a dark figure trying to get into the door, Joel pulling the knife, he walks around with, off of his belt, keeping his steps light, silently approaching them.
“Why the fuck don’t we have a light back here?” he hears them quietly mutter.
“Ellie?” Joel says at regular volume.
“Ahhh!” she screams, turning in his direction. Her hand is over her winter coat-covered chest. “Jesus Christ, Joel! Way to give me a fucking heart attack!”
He walks closer, sheathing his knife, as he says, “What the hell are you doin’ out here?”
“What the hell are you doing out here?”
His hands perch on his hips. “Doesn’t matter—you, on the other hand, just got over bein’ sick and shouldn’t be out in this cold. Move, I’m gettin’ your ass inside.”
She stepped aside, and he walked over, quickly unlocking and opening the door; he grabbed her by the shoulder and firmly guided her inside. He flicked on the room’s light once they were inside, and the door was closed and locked, Joel crossing his arms over his chest.
“Now, where the fuck have you been?” he asks.
She’s unzipping her coat. “Where the fuck have you been?”
“I asked you first.”
She shrugs off her jacket and tosses it onto the kitchen table. Joel sighs, walking over to pick it up—he’ll hang it alongside his by the front door before he goes up to his room.
“I was at the same place you were.”
He keeps his face neutral, but his heart is thudding, and he’s pretty fucking sure she wasn’t at your house.
He meets her eyes. “And that is?”
She smirks. “My secret girlfriend’s.”
“Goddammit.” His fingers press to his forehead as he closes his eyes. “You fuckin’ know—how the fuck do you know?”
“Let’s see, she’s literally the only person in town aside from me and Tommy’s family you like. You stare at her with, I don’t know what to call them, googly eyes? It’s that look the dudes have when they see the love of their life, or whatever, in those shitty romantic movies we like to make fun of. I’ve heard you call her ‘sweetheart’—” She fake gags, and Joel sighs. “—you’ve gone over to her house to fix so much shit that, at this point, it’s gotta be a whole new house. You sneak over there every fucking night. Oh, and when she sees the lady next door, the crazy one who’s got a real hard-on for you—gross by the way—when she sees ‘you can call me, Sandy,’ flirt with you—double-gross—I’m pretty sure she’s plotting murder; you’re definitely plotting murder when guys hit on your girlfriend—which, I don’t get why the two of you pretend like you aren’t together; is she embarrassed that you’re so fucking old and ugly, or something?” His teeth clench, and he glares at her. “God, don’t give me the murder eyes, Joel! I was kidding!” She playfully punches his arm. “Kind of… I mean, I’m happy you found someone who loves you even though you’re a grumpy asshole and look like that.” She points at his face.
“You done?”
“Telling you you’re old and ugly? Sure. For now. But I have one more thing that gave you guys away.”
His eyebrow lifts. “What is it?”
“When she came over the other day while I was sick as balls and hung out with me, you slept. Joel, you do not fucking sleep if there’s anyone else here besides me, which is why if I wanna have a sleepover with my friends, I have to go to their houses.”
“Were we really that obvious?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you knew?”
She’s clearly confused. “I thought we were avoiding the topic.”
“What topic?”
“Like, relationships—you never said anything to me, so I figured it was something we don’t talk about.”
He cringes. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel…”
She smiles. “I don’t give a fuck if you date, Joel—if you’re happy, I’m happy.”
He matches her look. “I’m pretty fuckin’ happy. Are you happy with your uh, girlfriend? Have I met her?”
“Yeah,” she nods, grinning. “It’s Cat!”
His eyes round—he was under the impression Cat is her best friend, and he has met the other girl many times.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re way better at this secret girlfriend stuff than I am. I had no clue. I like Cat; she’s got all those neat tattoos.”
“She does!” she replies with a grin. “And I’m getting one!”
“You’re what?!”
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ecoamerica · 2 months
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youtube
Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
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ghostfacd · 6 months
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SASSY MEN DO IT BETTER! | TOM BLYTH
PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader
SUMMARY. in which yours and tom’s behind the scenes gossip session goes viral and everyone’s dying to know who’s it about
AUTHOR’S NOTE. thank you to whomever requested this, nonnie i love you! this was so much fun to write and instead of Instagram posts, I decided to do tweets this time! enjoy as always and thank you for the overwhelming support on my au, it means so so much
installment of this au (recommend reading for context)
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It started off innocent.
Just you and Tom in the background of a Behind The Scenes video where Rachel was currently talking about her character, Lucy Gray Baird.
You and Tom were fairly close in proximity—as you always were anyway—and you two were scrolling through your phones, showing each other funny videos or pictures of beautiful places that showed up on your feed.
That was until a message popped up from your ex, some jerk who had somehow gained a role in a movie and thought he was now some hotshot in the film industry.
“Oh seriously,” Tom mutters, watching as you tapped on the messages your ex had sent you. “He’s got to be kidding.”
Your ex had apparently “missed you greatly” and wanted to hang out so you two could catch up. He said he watched The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes and was in awe of how well you acted. If he wasn’t such a toxic asshole when you two were dating, you would take it as a compliment.
“I don’t know where he has the nerve.” Tom says, giving you a disgusted look. “Like girl, please.”
“Girl please?” You say, giggling as your head fell back into his chest. “Baby, I didn’t know you said things like that.”
“There’s plenty of more where that came from,” he says, “Okay, I need to stop. What if someone on set thinks I’m crazy?”
“They already think you’re crazy.”
Tom rolls his eyes, shoving your shoulder back slightly. “You’re lucky you’re my girlfriend.”
“I think you’re more of the girlfriend in the relationship Tom,” you say, shrugging. You fail to hold in your laugh as you watch Tom’s expression turn into shock. “I’m kidding, thank you for being the best boyfriend I can ask for.”
He grumbles a sure whatever under his breath when you engulf him in a tight hug.
“You’re practically crushing my lungs.” He says a minute in, only to be responded with a roll of your eye. “But hey, I’m much better than that newbie actor ex of yours, right?”
“Is that even a question?” You say, pulling away. “He was just nonchalant and mean to me half of the time. Don’t know why I even dated him.”
Your phone goes off, another message coming from your ex. “Oh, he called you knock off Draco Malfoy, which by the way, isn’t even an insult because he doesn’t even come close to you or Draco Malfoy in terms of looks.”
Tom lets out an honest to God laugh at your commentary, shaking his head in amusement. “Yeah, but didn’t you have a huge crush on Malfoy as a kid?”
You pretend to think for a minute before nodding your head teasingly, “yeah, I guess things never change huh?”
“Okay stop, you know I’m a fake blonde.”
And the entire moment between you and Tom is captured on camera, sending your fans into a frenzy as they watched how cute you two were with each other.
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kissitbttr · 11 months
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miguel putting up with his girl’s princess attitude
-
“miguel!” you call out from the bathroom as your fingers delicately fix the straps of your bodycon dress. “can you come here for a minute?”
miguel sighs, this is the third time you keep calling him knowing how busy he is at the moment. work has gotten the best of him, and if reinventing new techs back to back isn’t enough to drain him, he has to keep up with your needs daily.
does he has the courage to say no to you, though? nope. as much as he hates to admit it because it’s embarrassing, he’s scared of you. if the spider society think that Miguel is too frightening then they have not seen you get mad or being a brat.
“coming, baby!” he walks out of his office while taking off his glasses, rolling the sleeves of his henley shirt to his elbows.
the bathroom door is left wide open, immediately seeing you standing before the mirror in a long and tight fitting grey dress that falls just around your ankles. and just like that, his annoyance completely washed off,
he takes a good look at you. eyes slowly observing every single detail of your face and down to your body. the way that dress hugs your curves and accentuate your best assets should be a crime,
God, you’re such a perfection.
“shut your mouth before you catch flies, babe” you jokingly say as your fiancee stares at you with his jaw slightly agape. “mind helping me?”
Miguel clears his throat after, slightly smirking as he shrug his shoulders. he leans against the door way with his arms crossed, eyes never leaving yours.
“you look absolutely divine, mi amor.” he comments, taking his lower lip between his teeth. “is that new?” he points at the dress,
rolling your eyes playfully, you try to keep your composure still. even after three years of dating—now engaged— he still manages to make your heart skips and create butterflies in the pit of your stomach,
“I know” you reply in confidence, winking at him which he chuckles in return. “and yes it is! it’s SKIMS! got it yesterday, does it look good on me?”
he frowns, tilting his head to the side. “baby, you already know the answer to that come on now… you make anything look sexy.” he strides closer to you as he stands from behind you, “now, què necesitas?” he questions, resting his hands on his hips
you find it attractive how he towers over you, and it’s one thing that you love about him. it’s not that you’re petite or anything. but compared to how tall and big he is, you’re definitely tiny.
“straighten my hair for me please? I can’t reach it” you pout at him through the mirror, “just this part right here” fingers move to the back to touch part of your hair,
“ay dios mio, woman… you’re lucky i love you” he teases before grabbing the iron from the sink. “going out with the girls, mami? i assume lunch?” he asks as he starts parting your hair with one hand,
your head shakes, straightening the dress. “no, I’m doing cake testing today and wedding dresses … Darla is bringing three more flavors.”
he stops what he’s doing, giving you a confused look. “alone? cariño why didn’t you tell me? you know I’d come with you” he feels a bit disappointed and now guilty that he’s busying himself with work and instead you’re left dealing with your wedding, alone.
his hand rests on your shoulder and you move yours on top of him. “hey, it’s okay, Miggy… you’ve been so stressed lately i do not want to put more pressure… it was last minute anyway, she texted me this morning.”
“you’re my girl, i would never be too busy for you.” he says almost too fast,
giving him a sincere smile, you nod your head. “yes… i know, baby. trust me it’s okay…plus it’s bad luck for the groom to see his bride in a wedding dress” you giggle a bit. “we can go over the seating arrangements again together, yeah? i promise” you plant a soft kiss on his finger,
Miguel exhales a sigh, still feeling tiny bit upset that he won’t be there to keep you company. “okay, fine… tell Darla that keep vegan options open for the cakes.”
“noted, honey.” you tell him as he continues to straighten your hair, “is everything okay with work?”
he nods, eyes too fixated on your long hair, not wanting to mess up a single strand. “just running over a few reports and fixing few minor defects on the techs and my suit…the last guy did quite a number on me.”
“hmm i love it when you speak science to me” you comment, watching him laugh a bit at your flirty remark. “but you still need to be careful. i do not want to see my future husband all bruised up when i walk down that aisle or else I’ll leave your ass.” your tone comes off demanding and firm, but it’s only because you care.
“yes ma’am” he replies, setting down the hot object down on the sink before slowly running his fingers through your hair. “there you go, baby” he moves your hair to the front, kissing your cheek and seeing you smile just makes him happy. knowing he’s done a great job.
turning around to face him, you stand on your toes to kiss his lips. “thank you, miggy… I’ll see you later, okay? we can go grab dinner outside and then movie night at 9?”
his heart warms at that and lips stretches into a large grin. “sounds like a plan.” then he lightly slaps your ass as you walk out of the door,
“let me know if there’s going to be bunch of assholes staring at you today, I’ll hunt them down and fucking kill them on the spot.” he mentions as if it’s nothing
and they say romance is dead.
-
cake testing with miggy!
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sugarcoatedstarkey · 4 months
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Do you love me?
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Pairings - Rafe x reader
Summary - you catch Rafe watching porn. Based on this ask
Warnings - masturbation, porn, reader being sad, language, unprotected sex. (18+)
A/n- always have the conversation with your partner about porn, some people don’t care but others do so please don’t leave any rude comments.
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When you had gone looking for your boyfriend around 11pm you had expected to find him asleep on the couch, credits to the movie the two of you had tried watching running in the background. White noise helped him sleep. What you hadn’t expected to find was your boyfriend watching porn, on the big screen. His cock between his hand as he tugged himself, soft moans and grunts spewing from his lips as he watched the scene in front of him.
A perfect curved blonde bounced on a thick cock, her pussy was immaculate. No hair or razor burn to be seen, just complete bareness. She was everything you weren’t, even the noises she made was better.
You had been so naive to think he didn’t watch porn, to believe you were enough to satisfy his needs. Of course you weren’t, you didn’t look like the girl on the screen. Your curves weren’t perfect, your hair didn’t look like that and you definitely didn’t sound or act the way she did which apparently had Rafe beating his cock harder.
Stepping away from the door you creeped back to the bedroom, the tears fell before you even made it under the blanket. Your body shaking against the mattress in sadness, this shouldn’t have such an affect on you. Everyone watches porn, you’ve watched porn but that was before Rafe. Before you had his perfect body at your disposal.
Pressing the palms of your hands into your face to ease the tears, taking deep breaths to stop the noises. The sound of the living room door closing has you burrowing under the blanket, hiding your face so he can’t see you.
It feels like hours go by before he steps into the room, moving around quietly as he strips his clothes off. He always slept naked, a sight you’d never get over. You feel his side of the bed dip and the ruffle of the blanket, you don’t expect his arm to pull you against his chest. “You're awake” he whispers, the thump of your heart giving you away. His hand pressed firmly just above your breast, you stay quiet though. Hoping he just lets you go to sleep but of course he doesn’t, he’s spinning your body like a rag doll. “Why’s your heart beating so fast?”.
The room is pitch black, he’s unable to see your bloodshot eyes. His fingers dance up and down your spine waiting for your answer. “Not sure” your voice is raspy, a tell tale sign something’s wrong. His hand is hitting the bedside lamp within seconds, towering over your small frame. Fingers cupping your cheek softly, his eyes search your face and a deep frown settle between his eyebrows. “Why have you been crying?”.
You push at his chest, turning until your back is to him. Embarrassment settles in your chest, a sudden wave of nausea rushes through you. “Babe, don’t do that. Tell me why you’ve been crying?”
With all the confidence you can muster you turn slightly, looking him directly in the eyes. “Do you still love me?”
The deep chuckle vibrates his chest and he pulls himself to sit, your cheeks tinted red in anger and embarrassment you press your face into the pillow. “Oh hey hey babe no. Of course I love you. Why would you ask me that?”
His grabby hands prod you in the side, pulling at your waist so he can see your face. You slap his hands away when they reach for your face again, moving yourself until you say against the headboard. Knees pressed firmly to your chest, arms wrapped tight around you. “Are you attracted to me?” Tears start falling before you can catch them, bottom lip wobbling as you stare at him. The sobs come hard and fast, he’s holding your face firmly.
This time he stares at you, it's intense and you feel shy under his gaze. “Of course I am… your fucking perfect”
Your eyes rolled hard, no you weren’t. The tears keep coming but the attitude fights it way through. “Don’t roll your eyes” he grasps your wrists, yanking you until you straddle his lap. “No I'm not.. I don’t look like those girls”
Confusion evident on his face as he waits for you to explain, so unsure on what has made you feel this way. “Those girls” you whispered, too shy to explain you had caught him masterbsting to porn earlier. “Your going to need to explain baby”
“The girls in porn” you blurt, the corner of his lips turning up. A lightbulb going off above his head, he realises you must have seen him earlier. “I went to find you… I thought you’d fallen asleep, I didn’t mean to see you- you’know”.
Gripping your chin with his forefinger and thumb he angles your face up at him, placing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You think I don’t love you because of the girls in porn?”
You nod your head in embarrassment, you know you shouldn’t be feeling these things. “I was right here.. why didn’t you ask me to help?”
“Oh baby… your fucking perfect, those girls aren’t what I want. You are what I want… I watch porn when I don’t want to annoy you”
“Your not annoying me”
“Your pussy is fantastic, the best fucking pussy I’ve ever had. I can’t get enough of it, I can’t get enough of fucking you… I love fucking you”
“Sweet girl, my sex drive is insane. I’m constantly horny, I can’t expect you to be willing and waiting for me every second of the day”
“Yes you can Rafe… if I’m around then use me, I understand if I’m not around. Of course porn would be your go to but I’m right here, I want you just as much as you want me and if it’s not sex you want, I’ll get on my knees for you”
He grins Cheshire Cat like, pupils blown to the max. His lips attack yours in one swift swoop, tongue slipping between your lips. It’s messy and full of heat, his grabby hands caress the skin of your exposed thighs.
Grinding you down onto his crotch, you can feel him hardening under you. You had forgotten he was naked for a brief moment, reaching down to grasp his cock. With just a few small tugs he was completely hard, throbbing in your palm. “Fuck baby… I hope you mean what your saying, I’m going to fuck this pussy until it’s a weeping mess every day… multiple times of the day” he states, kissing down the length of your neck.
He’s pulling your shorts to the side, pressing the head of his cock to your opening. Without warning you push down on him, his cock stretching you wide. “Shit… baby girl, I just about came. You feel so fucking good” he growls, he scoops your breasts out of the loose tank top. Sucking your nipples into his mouth harshly, your hips roll and bounce above him. “Not so fast, I want to show you how much I love fucking you” he breaths, wrapping his arm around your back he places you onto the bed.
Your legs wrap around his waist as he thrusts into you, it's deep and slow. Your walls spasm around him each time he nudges your clit, his lips suck deep purple bruises into your neck. “Oh yes Rafe… I can’t- I need you to go faster” you breath, your orgasm was fluttering.
Pressing the heels of your feet into his lower back, he shook his head moving his lips across your jaw onto your lips. His pace quickened only by a fraction, not enough to bring you over the edge. “Going slow baby.. want you to understand how much I love you and how much I love this body, you are the only person I want”
You nod your head, understanding his words. You had over reacted to what you had seen, completely understanding why he used porn at certain times. “Yes baby.. I understand. Please”
He loved hearing you beg, he knew you were close by the way your cunt sucked him deeper. He reached between you, pressing his fingers to your aching clit. “Yes yes yes”
This was enough to have you crying out under him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him in close. Fingernails racking up the length of his back as your orgasm washed over you, he was quick to follow, still sensitive from his previous abuse on his cock.
“I love you baby… not porn okay”
“I know, but I was serious… use me okay. I’m here whenever you want me”
“Your going to regret that”
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hazelfoureyes · 5 days
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Alastor in Rut (one shot)
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Rutting Alastor x Fem Rabbit Reader
Less than confident and lacking much in the way of assertiveness, you find hell to be scary. But, a very kind and helpful deer demon has a solution! Just in time, as an unexpected rut hits him and he feels the need to reel you in.
this is pure self indulgence. Shout out to @jazzmasternot , @lustylita , @sugoi-writes , and @minkdelovely for keeping me sane and horny (with art lol)
「Warnings/Promises: actual warning - mentions of accidental vehicular homicide and reader's death, Marathon Smut, p in v, finger almost in a?, anal is considered, knotting because fuck it, attempt at breeding, womb flooded, not dubcon but everyone in the hotel thinks it is, slightly repetitive fucking because he wont waste semen on other holes, Alastor would fuck anyone but you’re the most amusing, Alastor doesn’t think he’s the good guy which is honestly kinda cute, deadass talk about making you carry his fawns?? Why is it so hot?? Knock me up deer man bleat bleat bitch, implied previous relationship with a human man, plans to cuckold your ex, heat, blue fire isn’t hot, you’re tricked into a deal with Alastor, kinda size kink, demon Alastor, minor aftercare, a little sexual choking (as a treat)」
Hey--- we're all here for something. This is 10000 words, 5300 or so is smut. Smut starts at the bright green divider for you impatient and horny deeries.
MINORS YOU KNOW THE DRILL DNI
The line for reception was long, but that was to be expected. After the extermination ended early and Adam killed on television by a maid, the Hazbin Hotel had been busy. Or so you overheard others saying. You’d only been in hell a day, lucky enough to catch the advertisements and hear the gossip for the hotel soon after your descent.
You recognized the princess immediately, but not that tall man beside her. He wasn’t doing anything, just staring and smiling. Was he friendly? Were there friendly people in hell? Truly friendly. Not high school girl friendly. Or hungry witch friendly. He had witch vibes.
“Hiya welcome to the”, she took a deep breath in, “Hazbin Hotel! I am Charlie! This is Alastor! What did you do to bring you to hell? Gotta know so we can cater your redemption activities to your sins!”
She was staring at you so happily, pen over paper. Your eyes nervously shot to the man, who leaned down in response.
“I fell asleep driving and killed someone, and myself.”
Everything about Charlie was frozen still except the sudden glossiness forming over her eyes. “You… you… were you like, a thief or… did you…… push old ladies into traffic?”
You shook your head no.
“Gluttonous? She asked.
“No, I wasn’t a fan of overindulgence.”
“Prideful, then?” 
“Unfortunately… I don’t think too highly of myself. Living or dead.” Your hand came to your down turned rabbit ears, sad and limp. Even in death you weren’t the right kind of anything.
“Uhh,” Charlie clicked her pen furiously again and again, “Lustful?”
“Just the one partner. My highschool sweetheart.”
A sweat was forming on Charlie’s brow, “Sloth?”
“I did fall asleep behind the wheel… but it was from working 25 hours of overtime this week.”
Charlie put the pen down, “I don’t think you belong in hell. You made an accident. That’s not how sins should work…”
Your eyes bore holes into the desk, avoiding eye contact, “I don’t think heaven cares much about that.”
“Poor thing. Let’s circle back, Charlie.” Alastor’s large hand rested on your head, patting twice. 
She nodded, “Good call. I’ll just,” her tongue stuck out as she began to write, “make a new category just for you! Other.”
Yeah that made sense, you thought. That was fitting. This truly was hell. Finally you stood out, as the one who didn’t fit in. You supposed that’s what a wallflower deserved for murder. 
“Follow me little one.”  The tall Alastor instructed you as he snatched a key from the hook and walked past you.
Happily. Small tail uncontrollably swishing as you followed a foot behind him.
A hum of approval, Alastor noticing the distance you kept.
“You obey instructions well.”
You always did. “Thank you.” Tiny and soft, your response made his shadow shift and smile.
It wasn’t a compliment, but the fact you took it as one interested him. Subservient. 
Fun. 
“I take it that you really were a good girl in life, weren’t you?” He swiveled on his heels to face you, the sudden change causing your face to run into his lower chest.
A song of apologies fell from your mouth as you backed up, tripping over your own pathetic attempts at platitude and falling back onto your ass.
He was tall before but now he towered over your, hand outstretched to help you up. You offered a thank you before taking it.
Clawed fingers tightened around your palm. Not letting you pull away. “You’re new to hell, right?”
A glance around, no one else in the hallway, “Is it obvious?”
“Yes. But also, you mentioned work this week.”
A nod, “It’s been maybe a day.”
Delicious.
“Could I offer you some advice?” He leaned down, hand tightening further. Wide eyed and a little frightened with the change in atmosphere, you just nodded again. “It’s very dangerous out there for little prey animals like yourself.”
“Aren’t you also a prey animal?”
His hand uncurled.
A moment of tension, Alastor leaning down further.
A strange sound was coming from his microphone, the best approximation you had was a car radio going haywire skipping through the channels.
“Room 243!” His body popped up and he held the key out for you. The hallway lights seemed to be glowing brighter now.
You grabbed the key, “Thank you!”
Two fourty three was just past him. A small tremble kept you from getting the key in on your first and even second try. 
You didn’t even stop to turn on the light, just pushing the door closed behind you as soon as your body was through the threshold.
The relief barely left with a sigh when you heard it, “You know…”
Frozen, your eyes adjusted to the darkness enough to see the shining of his red and pink eyes in front of you.
“I’m somewhat of a deal maker. For a small price, I could help you. Perhaps, you’d like a change of appearance?” His voice seemed to be coming from the walls, above and beside you all at once.
Something lifted a floppy ear. But his eyes were too far from you for it to have been his own hands. A small scream as you smacked at the appendage.
“What do you say? I can use a little magic to make you happier with your new form.” A dark whisper into your right ear. 
Your hands flew to your head before you dropped to your knees to escape the hidden things touching you. 
“What do you want?” To your left now. “Let’s make a trade. A deal.” Above your head. 
His eyes were gone. Just darkness and a soft laugh echoing around you.
Your mind was reeling through possible answers, what did you want? At that moment? In general? 
An answer tumbled out, too quietly.
“Hmm?” His eyes reappeared closer to you and glowing a bloody red. “Speak up, my ears are quite a bit higher than your mouth.”
A second attempt, “Safety. I wanna be safe.” The laughter got louder, mocking you without words.
“A little tougher of an ask.” The sound of something slithering near your feet made you pull your knees tighter to your chest. “But! I’m here to please. In exchange for protection from the more nefarious of hell’s citizens I’ll need something worth my while.”
Of course, that is how deals work, right? A promise with compensation. 
“I don’t have any money, or possessions yet. Maybe I should try again later?” You were lost in the light of his stare and found the darkness deepening around him.
A considered hum, “Well, you’re already dead. You’ve no need for your soul. Damned as it is, give it to me instead. To keep safe. And I’ll always answer your calls for rescue when in harm's way.”
Why would…what use was a soul, you wondered. Was he right? But if he wanted it, surely it had value. You were too new to this world, scared to say yes and part with what little you had. 
At the risk of angering the demon in the darkness of your room, you whispered to yourself and hoped he would hear it, “I think I shouldn’t.”
Hissing in your ear, “Disappointing.”
The lights flickered on, an empty room. A bed. A nightstand. A closet. A bathroom. No tall smiling dealmaker.
A tremor stayed in your hands through the night. 
To your surprise, when you ran into Alastor the next day he was more than kind. He was eavesdropping when you asked Charlie if the hotel needed any staff. Not only did you want to be of use, you were hoping to earn some money. He quickly slid beside Charlie suggesting things you could do. 
Wow, you thought. He didn’t hold a grudge at all. Maybe he had been trying to help before? 
It took a few weeks, but you found a groove. You were a floater between the staff, helping Husk with the restocking of his bar, following behind Niffty with supplies her tiny arms couldn’t carry, and keeping notes for the activities Charlie held. It was vital for you to feel needed and everyone seemed happy to have you around. Hell wasn’t so bad.
“Dear,” Alastor found you holding a basket of towels in the hallway on a rather standard weekday, “I need an errand runner. Do you mind?”
You had been finding Alastor’s presence enjoyable, a little secret you held. He was always smiling, which made you smile in turn. And his manners, well, perfect. You couldn’t understand why such a sweet man was in hell, but then you considered you were also in hell. Mistakes happen, perhaps he was also damned by technicalities. 
Not that you would ask him, you barely spoke a word to the deer demon. Every time he was around you your throat would close up. Oftentimes you would pull your hands behind your back to shield the wiggle of your too-honest tail. 
When he would speak to you, you would get so focused on the sound of his voice and watching his mouth move you’d actually not hear a damn thing he said. You must have looked like an absolute airhead, always replying, “What?” every time he finished a statement. 
“Hellooo, anyone home in there?” He knocked gently on your skull. Ah, those big hands again. He watched the pink bloom across your cheeks, your hands coming to your ears to pull them down as your mind wandered off.  A snap of his fingers finally brought you back.
“Sorry, what?” Your eyes were bright as you finally made the journey all the way up to his face.
“Welcome back. I need some stuff picked up from a shop downtown. I can’t leave right now, mind hopping over for me?” The grin he offered you made you melt.
“Of course!” That damn tail shaking behind you, “What am I picking up?”
He waved his hand, “Not important, it’ll be all wrapped up and waiting.” The radio effect of his voice grew, “I’ll write down the address.”
Terrible handwriting. You could barely read it, but didn’t want to insult him so you just nodded as he followed you to the doors. Pausing, you realized it was your first time leaving the hotel alone. 
“What’s wrong? Not up to it?”
You shook your head, “No! I can do it. Thank you.”
A pounding in your chest made you question if you were actually dead. But despite your concerns, no one bothered you beyond some catcalling and intense glares. Staring at the paper, you struggled to decipher the address. Was that a 7 or a 1? A 4 or a 9…? You were in the general area, the street name lined up and the first couple numbers of the address too.
You brought the paper closer to your face, maybe if you really inspected it you could figure it out. 
A shriek, dropping the paper to felt a small goblin-like creature pushing at your knees. Another, then another, began to appear from the shadows of the street. Black and white little creatures pushing and pulling at your legs until you tumbled over.
“Help!” You thought it was a shout, but it came out as a soft spoken request, the tone itself adding a ‘please’ to the end. 
They weren’t hurting you, just knocking you over every time you tried to stand up like grade school bullies. You managed, the creatures relenting momentarily before a stockier one materialized. A step back, what did they want? Money? You pulled out your wallet and opened it but the large one smacked it to the ground. 
That quick heart skipped a beat when your back hit against something solid. As your head bent backwards, you could see those red and pink eyes looming over you. 
“Oh dear. Trouble already?” 
You could cry. You did cry, a little, at the sight of a familiar face. With a flourish of his hands, those previously unseen tendrils whipped from his back and flung the aimless attackers away. 
Rescue! You hugged his waist, a chorus of ‘thank yous’ and ‘Oh, Alastor!’ into his chest. 
“Now now, can’t even be a proper task rabbit. You really do need some safeguarding.” He peeled you off him, brushing his coat off. Your mind thought back to the offer. “And I don’t see my purchase… didn’t complete the task either?”
You shrunk, you’d entirely failed him. His smirk was one sided, eyes half lidded and expression dramatically disappointed. Alastor sighed and turned to walk away from you. You’d let him down. He’d been nothing but accommodating and gentle.
“I’m sorry! Alastor!” You grabbed his wrist, eyes shut so you didn’t see the green glow of arcane symbols floating up around him. “Can I please have that deal? Please. I’m sorry, you have my soul as payment.”
Painless, selling your soul. With a handshake, a little light show, and a whirling of magic, you had done it.
“Excellent choice!” Alastor patted your head, “I’ll come to your aid when you’re scared for your life! Aaaand in return, your soul is mine. Easy peasy, yes?”
Fine, not an issue in the slightest. “Do I need to do anything?”
“About what?” His eyes wandered to inspect his fingernails.
“My soul.”
A barking laugh, “No. You’re tied to me now, dear. As for my end, just call my name when you’re in danger and I’ll,” a flourish of his talons, “rescue you.” His smile strained as he peered down at your little face, “Why are you crying?”
“I’m so happy to have the help, thank you Alastor! You really are just, amazing. Your mother raised you right.” Your hands were holding your cheeks, grateful and feeling a little less alone.
The mention of his mother made his back straighten, a bloom in his chest he knew all too well to be pride. Finally, someone was vocalizing his better qualities. Well, other than Charlie. But impressing Charlie was like making a dog think you’d thrown a ball. Just a little quick whirl of your hands and a couple sweet words with a smile and she’d be all wagging tail as she ran to retrieve nothing. 
But he supposed you were very much like Charlie, easily tricked and distracted. Had you really not noticed those goons were his? Or that the address wasn’t real? Were you stupid or naive? His head fell to the side unnaturally as he watched you talk. He wasn’t listening, though. He took in your features, slight but average. His hand came out absentmindedly and felt at one of your long and limp ears. He didn’t see you blush or caught how you stiffened. 
Naive. Terribly naive.
Perfectly usable. 
He dropped your ear and turned to leave. “I won’t rescue you twice in one day. Best to follow me home if you value your life.”
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
You hadn’t told anyone about the deal, a secret for yourself to keep. Partly because you were embarrassed you needed the help, and partly because you had been warned extensively to not make a deal with the deer demon. Everyone had such a peculiar idea of Alastor, it seemed to you. Even after making a deal, he was still…Alastor. Always offering a joke, or playing something jaunty in the shared spaces. You could vent and whine and Alastor would hum as he read. Always offering a gentle pat to the head when you were sad or did something he liked. 
So when Alastor suddenly left the group in a sweat, hands shaking and body rocking slightly side to side, you were quick to follow behind him. He bumped off the walls a couple of times before making it to his room and falling forward past the threshold. 
You waited for the door to close before running down the hall and knocking. 
“Are you alright?” You pressed your cheek against the wood and listened for any reply. 
Alastor was still on the floor when you knocked, which worked out well. He leaned against the door, ears flat with his condition. He took a deep breath, voice dropping an octave and carrying easily to you, “Just— an out of season rut. Unexpected and unwelcome. Without any does nearby it’s quite odd.”
“Oh, are deer not like rabbits? Rabbit does are always in estrus! Mating actually triggers their ovulation. Neat, huh?” Silence, Alastor’s ears turned forward focusing on every other word.
Does, always, oestrus
Mating, triggers, ovulation 
“I had pet rabbits when I was little. Isn’t that funny though? That they’re also called does.” You worried he thought you were weirdly interested in rabbit sex. “We had them as pets. So….,” a silence you misinterpreted as awkward.
Alastor tapped a long claw on the door before dragging it down the wood. A line was etched behind, “Is that so?”
You knelt down to get comfortable, “How long will it last?”
“Ah, hard to say. I've only suffered through a few. Alone, perhaps a week.”
“That sounds terrible.”
“With an appropriate partner, a deer demon would rut for two days. One for mating with his doe, one for guarding his doe from rivals who could still interfere with conception.”
His doe. You both found your throat running dry at the words. 
You nodded, “Oh wow, I guess that’s why you always see bucks locked together in fights.”
“Precisely.”
“But...can sinners actually conceive?” You gulped, the idea was a little naughty to you. The entire conversation was actually making you uncomfortable. The kind of discomfort that made your breath pick up. The kind of discomfort that shifted to hunger with just a few words or a well placed look.
“No, but that doesn’t matter. Once fully in the hold of a rut or heat, demons aren’t motivated by logic.”
You nodded again, forgetting he couldn’t see you. “Oh okay…” the idea of Alastor rutting into his own hand desperate to fill a womb made your knees come together. “Must be hard for you. As an asexual.”
A hum, confusion breaking his creeping fog for a second, “A sexual what?”
“Nevermind.” You shook your head, shaking off the topic with the motion.
Alastor could smell your arousal wafting under the door. A feverish chill ran through him, drawing the fog back into the recesses of his mind.
“Well… I’ll let you rest. I know you can’t call me, so I’ll stop by to see if you need anything.”
His mouth opened to correct you— he could call you in a sense, and he didn’t need help as he had minions he could summon with a snap. 
“That sounds lovely, what a helpful thing you are.” The words came out strained, his jaw tensing. How much longer could he hold out? The thinnest lie held in place that he’d suffer alone through the week. Already compromised by his errant shadow, flat against the carpet beneath your thighs. 
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
Within hours Alastor was lying on the floor with his limbs splayed out. The sweating was the worst, not the heat. He could feel ticklish drops dripping down his stomach. His hair was sticking to his face, adding to the mounting overstimulation. Wet, hot, clothes clinging to his body like a second skin. A clawed hand pulled off his bow tie. His fingers shook too much to handle the tiny buttons of his shirt so he gave up and ripped it open. 
It fell into a pile with the bow tie and soon his pants and socks joined. Sitting up on his elbows he looked down at his underwear, he wasn’t hard yet but he knew the smallest touch could trigger what could be days of painfully swollen erections.
He fell back to the floor with a huff, hands raking through his hair and gripping his ears a little rougher than he’d meant to. A gasp, red tipped talons feeling down his ears and slipping around his already growing antlers.
Alastor’s eyes rolled back, strong hands squeezing his prongs, tugging them forward as he imagined anyone riding him. Using his appendages as a handle while he bucked up into them. His hips were already moving, lower back rising off the carpet as he rolled his body up into the imaginary mate he despised his desperation for. His mind flicked through faces. Husk’s pained but satisfied expression, Vox’s tears as he whined, Carmilla’s lusty eyes paired with surrendered sighs. He lingered briefly on Angel’s smirk as his hands roamed down his chest and his thighs in tandem. 
But through the darkness of his imagination he saw two watery and timid orbs, tears welling as eyebrows rose in confusion. Pleasure making the features soften. Soft. Soft velvet ears he could tug on in turn, a little bushy tail he could grip. 
A doe. 
The only doe he knew of in the hotel. 
The radio on the writing desk flipped through channels, piecing together the sounds to form the words he was trying to forget, a magazine ransom note cut from sound bites.
....out the windows
 ....always and forever, 
....in yesterday. 
....rusty cage 
May you never....
Hating how I....
....pull the trigger
....say you love me?
....congratulations 
The relevant sounds spiked in volume, mocking him. 
He walked to the radio and hurled it across the room. Aggression. Already he was losing himself to hellish biology. 
A minor part of him didn’t want to use you. You always looked at him with such adoration, which he’d come to look forward to when others weren’t giving him adequate attention. You also seemed to genuinely see him as a friend, as much as he didn’t directly feed that idea.
But using people was how the world worked. Everyone was using someone. You had said how much you wanted to help… Alastor leaned on the desk with both hands and watched the sweat fall onto the wood and leather writing surface.
How was his body leaking from every pore but his mouth was so dry?
His shadow reached for the thrown radio, the light flickering on. That dark doppelgänger using a song to offer another piece of torment for him, ‘you ain't never caught a rabbit and you ain't no friend of mine.’
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
You had been speaking to Husk about what you could do to help prepare the bar for the weekend when a green light began to form around your neck. 
“Did you— Did you make a deal with him?!” Husk dropped the dish rag, hands shooting to your shoulders, “Hold on! I’ll— fucking hell. Fuck!”
“Wait what’s wro-,” you were standing inside an unfamiliar room, just at the door, before you could figure out why Husk was panicking. Looking up, you locked eyes with Alastor. The room was dark, curtains drawn shut and ceiling lights off. A slight glow from a roaring blue fire to your left. His eyes were those familiar glowing red orbs in the darkness of his large canopy bed. “Oh, Alastor.” You finally noticed the third light source. A neon green large linked chain was wrapped around his fist. Following the squared interlocking pieces down the length of the bed, across the carpet and up as you looked down to find it ending on you.
Your hands touched your neck, feeling the cold metal of your collar. 
Alastor took a deep breath in, a shaky exhale following.
Oh. You’d heard from Angel how his deal with his boss often materialized as a series of smoke rings linked and attached to him. 
Before you could question it any further you were sliding across the floor, hands and feet struggling to find purchase as he reeled you toward the bed. Alastor lifted you by the glowing chain around your neck, evidence of the deal you so easily accepted.
“Can a deer breed a rabbit?” He mused, breath ragged as he struggled to remain in control of his impulses, “Doubtful. But I’ll give it my sincerest efforts, regardless.”
“Alastor-! You don’t want to do this, it’s just your rut.” You pulled back, legs kicking and piling up the blankets. It was fruitless. 
He laughed, incorporeal radio studio audience joining along. You couldn’t stop from glancing at the straining fabric of his black boxers. Setting a small hand on his chest to better attempt to push away you gasped, “You’re burning up!” The fear of the moment left you entirely, replaced with deep concern. 
He gripped your wrist with his free hand, not letting go of the chain in his right, “The fever is unbearable. My mind is slipping away.”
“Is this normal?!” Your hands came to his cheeks, his forehead, his neck. You remembered how your grandmother always checked your temperature, and pressed your lips to his sweat slicked brow. “You poor thing…”
When you pulled back you were met with the bright and blown out pupils of Alastor’s gaze. He was staring at your mouth, the green of his magical connection to you reflecting off his glossy eyes.
“Poor me.” He’d been sitting with loosely crossed legs but got on his knees. His face rose until he was looking down at you, hand now holding your chin, “You promised to help me.”
Your eyes were looking everywhere but his face. 
His hand on you tightened, cheeks squished together as he pulled your head up, “Are you a liar?” Of course not. His hand made your head shake left to right.
The trembling of your hands was obvious to you both. A cruel laugh, “Do I scare you, little bunny rabbit?”
In life you weren’t popular. No one hated you, but, well, you never had much luck attracting the men all the women seemed to want. No one of power or consequence ever paid you any mind.
Alastor was scary. But were you scared? Someone strong wanted you. Someone people feared was saying you were good enough for them.
Tears welled in your eyes as you felt your tail wiggling side to side. Your body always betrayed you. Your own death had been the doing of your body’s inability to listen to you. 
He couldn’t see the tail but the way your face screwed up in shame tipped him off. Letting go of your face, super heated finger pads slipped down your back. He slotted your tail between two fingers. There was no reason for it to be such an intimate action, but your entire body trembled.
Another deep sigh from Alastor, closing his fingers around the base and pulling gently. A test. Your head dropped to hide your reaction.
“Ah ah, eyes on me.”
He hummed happily as you did as you were told.
But the moment was cut short, you jumping when a rough knock came to the door.
“Alastor!” Vaggie was turning the knob despite knowing it was locked, “Is she in there? Open the fucking door.” A kick, a threat, “Now.”
“I’ll need your answer.” He leaned back onto the pillows piled behind him. Making a point, he lifted your chain and dropped it. It dissolved into nothingness before it could hit the bed.
“I’m here!” You said barely loud enough to be heard through the wooden door. Your eyes were drawn to Alastor’s lap as he pushed down his underwear to free his deep red cock.
His hand tenderly touched his base, hissing with the contact.
“For fuck’s sake Alastor!” Vaggie yelled, “You have three seconds to open this fucking door before I rip it off the hinges.”
Alastor’s head fell back with a moan, stifled as he bit down on his lip. 
“One!”
As his fingers slid up his length and touched his leaking slit his entire body violently shook.
“Two!”
He opened his eyes just barely. You hadn’t noticed the antlers on his head were quite a few times larger than normal. 
“I’m okay!” You shouted, the loudest noise you’d made since your death, but not the loudest you’d make by the end of the day.
Silence.
Mumbling.
 Vaggie spoke up again, “Are you sure? Come out and talk to us first.”
His hand began stroking himself, precum spilling down. Something soft and fuzzy was settling over the front of your brain.
You scooted backwards off the bed, eyes staying on his lap. The light color of his inner thighs. The little bit of red and black tail you could see squished down under his ass.
“Hello!” You opened the door just enough to shove your head through. “Hi there gang.”
Husk’s arms were crossed and his foot tapping, “Are you really okay? No matter the deal he can’t fucking make you stay in there with him.”
While you weren’t sure that was actually true, it wasn’t an issue, “I wanna stay! He needs someone to watch his fever and-,”
A brief rush of cool air up your shirt before a hot mouth was pressing into the small of your back.
Vaggie’s eyes narrows, “and?”
“And! And. Yes.” Your eyes shut, “and take care of cleaning up after him.”
They shared a glance, “He can just make his little creatures do it.”
A surprisingly long tongue ran up your spine.
“Oh my god.”
“What?”
“Oh my god! No! I couldn’t let my friend,” you sucked your bottom lip in as his hands wrapped around your waist and undid the button of your pants, “rely on strangers.”
Husk sighed, “Alright, just… like, call us or something? If you need anything.”
You began to nod but the door was shut and locked by Alastor before you could reply.
₊✧˚﹕︶︶︶﹕૮₍ ⸝⸝´ ꒳ `⸝⸝ ₎ა﹕︶︶︶﹕ ˚✧₊
Your face hit the wall as you lost balance when he pulled down your pants and panties with one yank and buried his face into your crotch. His tongue licked at the wetness pooled at your entrance.
Any moans would probably still have been heard by the other two so you tried to keep quiet. Alastor didn’t seem to care though, growling into your skin.
The fever seemed it would spread skin to skin, but when he pulled away you found your body quickly cooling. Taking a moment to breath before turning back, you wondered if you’d made a great decision or a terrible one. When you turned, Alastor was settling back into his previous spot. “I could rip the rest off of you or you could undress yourself.” He wasn’t looking at you as he said it. You made quick work of removing your shirt and returning to the bed as you had before.
"Turn around."
You turned to face the door.
"On your hands and knees."
You paused briefly, but did so.
As you bent over, little tail high and trembling, Alastor’s clawed thumbs spread open your bottom lips. Perhaps it was embarrassment or just the nerves but you were twitching open and close.
You heard a low “Fuck” before the feeling of heat dripping onto you made you jerk forward. One of his hands came to your shoulder to hold you in place, the other kept your hole open as his seed continued to dribble down onto it.
He hadn’t been trying to cum, but his body was already responding to the opportunity before it; a breedable and submissive doe.  His cock trigger-happy at the sight of your pussy, inside pink and clenching.
A tiny yelp as he fell over you, joining you in an all fours position but larger body caging yours between his limbs. He laughed again when the back of your head hit him square in the chest. 
“You are uselessly small.” His body rumbled over you. “Clever girl to make a deal for protection.” 
A burning stiffness slid down your folds. You could feel from even how little contact he made he was too big. Was it a bad time to tell him you’d only had the one partner on earth? A rather boring but sufficient sex life. If Alastor was hoping for a sex kitten he’d be deeply disappointed in you.
He hummed imagining dropping his weight and feeling you fruitlessly squirm under him. 
“Mating triggers ovulation, I recall you said. I just need to fuck you into it, right sweetheart? Maybe if I do a good enough job,” his hands gripped the flesh of your ass, “your body will actually respond. Your belly will swell with the evidence of my virility.” Both hands slipped down your hips and came to nestle above your womb, tenderly caressing the protective layer of fat there, “could your little form handle it?” Little form? Not quite. But to him everyone was little. Claws leaving faint red marks as he dragged them up your ribs, around your sides and pressed your back down to get your chest into the bed and ass in the air.
A squeak, your legs flailing with what little motion they had as you turned your head, “Well that’s for actual rabbits not--.”
His hand came over your mouth, “Shhh, there's safety in the quiet. Don’t you know? We’re most vulnerable when we mate.” On the utterance of the word you’d been avoiding to even think about Alastor’s still hard cock squeezed its way into you. Your body was willing, but your pussy wasn’t ready to accommodate him. Not that your living partner had been small, but he wasn’t a seven foot tall rutting deer demon. And with height came a girth and length you’d not anticipated. You had seen it, yes, but that didn’t translate to much once Alastor was entering you.
His hips were snapping back as soon as he sank in. It frustrated him endlessly that he wasn’t trying to fuck you with such a lack of control. He couldn’t have been sure he’d have done it any differently had the circumstances been changed, but he liked to think he’d  retained some skills over the long years alone.
The way he whined made him sound like a weak man, which he was in that moment. You wanted to call out his name, do the things you were used to doing during sex, but his hand was still over your mouth.
As if he heard your thoughts, his fingers spread open over your lips. Pinky under your chin to keep his hold on you. 
“Alastor,” the tenor of your voice surprised you.
“Stick out your tongue.” He sounded far away, despite being right behind you. When you did as he instructed his hand shifted. Two long fingers went into your mouth and pressed down on your tongue. Immediately his fingers and your chin was dripping with drool. He whined again, louder, the noise growing into a growl as his speed began to pick up. 
You could feel the thin flesh at the bottom of your entrance stinging as it was failing to stretch enough for him. It would have bothered you more but the way his burningly hot cock's head was pressing into your cervix was making your eyes lose focus. 
Without ceremony, you felt a rush of heat deep in you. Your shins lifted from the bed as you squirmed, weak attempts to escape the deep press.
His hand left your mouth and you felt it working on the base of his cock that was not yet in you. He mumbled something, it sounded like an apology, before you felt him pop the rest of himself in. You choked on your scream, not knowing what he had put in you. 
It throbbed, new and stronger spurts of his seed felt against an indescribable place. 
A brave hand reached between your thighs and felt at the space between your bodies—- well, would have felt at that space. But there was none. You were flush against his lap. Your fingers slid down to feel taut balls pulled up into his body. 
He shivered as you traced between them, checking neither were …  inside you. 
“I should have warned you, but my ability to speak wasn’t—,” he waved his hand around, “available.” You tried to pull away but found you both were locked together. “A knot. Not an accurate representation of a deer… and technically useless.”
That word meant nothing to you. “Is it normal?”
His thumb pressed at the virgin tight ring of muscle just above your pussy, you instinctively jerked away but just made yourself gasp as that large knot in you threatened to further tear you if you kept it up. “I don’t normally do it so early in a mated rut.”
You surrendered, trying to relax your upper body into the bed. “How do we get it out?”
A mocking chuckle, “It’ll deflate, so to speak, in a couple minutes. It’s just keeping my little doe in place while I finish filling her up.” He patted your ass. 
It was mortifying to be suck in that position.
“Have you ever used this hole?” He rubbed some of your wetness up to your asshole. 
 Your tail lifted, “My boyfriend didn’t like anal.”
Alastor massaged around the puckered ring, “I didn’t ask if he used his.” Your head turned to look at him, shaking it ‘no’. You noticed his face looked less strained now, and that his finger didn’t feel like a fire was just under his skin. “Ah, well. I won’t need it today anyway.”
He didn’t see the bright blush that came over your face. He spoke so easily about the topic, a topic you’d never heard him speak on before. One you’d been told he had no interest in.
An error you made, assuming a lack of interest meant a lack of knowledge or experience. 
When he finally could pull himself out of you, you felt a rush of warmth down your inner thighs. Looking under you, past your chest and between your legs, you saw the thick white semen escaping from your stretched entrance. 
You’d never seen such an opaque release before. You wondered if it was a hint at his…potency. You wondered more what was happening in your body at that moment. 
“Will it come out on its own or do I need to clean it?” Finally sitting up, your fingers felt the mess still dripping out of you. 
Alastor leaned back onto his legs, ears turning in your direction as you asked, “Is this your first time? Your little boyfriend never finished in you?”
Crossing your arms, you turned to him, “Don’t be patronizing to him. And no, okay?”
He felt the heat rising from his gut again, cock twitching at every bit of the scene before him. Insolent body language, an attempt to scold him, and an admission. You watched him sit back up, a sudden reminder how much taller he was as darkened eyes looked down on you. The blue of the fire cast half of his face in shadows. “What’s this? My obedient doe wants to defend another man in my bed?” 
Your hands nervously came to the ends of your ears, “I didn’t mean it like that.” A finger twirled, telling you to turn around. You hesitated. Did he want you to leave? He didn’t want to look at you? You hadn’t—, “I’m sorry.” 
With a blink, his eyes were black.  His fingers longer as parts of him seems to stretch between the joints. He twirled them again as his smile grew wicked.
Desperate to show him you hadn’t wanted to upset him, that you wanted to stay, you turned around. The fear of not knowing what he would do next was sending waves of electricity to your lap. You realized you hadn’t touched yourself yet, not that this was the time to start. 
One by one, those freakishly long fingers curled around the small of your waist and lifted you off the bed. The tops of your feet were sliding across the dark maroon blankets beneath you both.
Your heart was pounding in your ears as he pulled you against him. He positioned you above his renewed erection, your legs opening a little in instinct. 
Grateful now to be turned around, you let your face run the full range of feelings as they washed over you. Fear, arousal, anticipation.
“What a wasteful man.” He brought you down with a painfully slow speed, head just now meeting your sticky wet hole. “He never flooded your soft cunt?” He pressed in a little easier this time, but as you sank to take him all in you felt a sting where you’d slightly torn earlier. “When he dies, I’ll be sure to find him.” Cruel. “And make him watch me breed you.” You clenched, yet another betrayal by your body. 
You were reduced to gasps as he stayed stock still and moved you on and off his cock. “Am I bigger than he is?” You could feel his breath against your back as you were lifted and brought back down again slowly. 
You nodded. A terrible liar, you didn’t even try to fib.
He stopped with his head barely in you.
A squirm.
“I’m sure I just didn’t hear you. Try again.”
“Yes.” You were full again as he got his answer. A creaking sound you didn’t recognize startled you.
“Do I fuck you better than him?”
Ah you understood. Your hands held at his fingers digging into your body. “Yes.” Another creaking sound as he quickened your rise and fall.
Alastor’s antlers were wide and multi-pronged as your affirmations jostled around behind his eyes. Your ‘yes’ somehow made you tighter, wetter, hotter around him. His hips started moving again to meet yours. Perhaps he his dick grown a little during his shift to a more demonic form, or maybe you enjoyed the line of questions. All he knew was you were squeezing him like your body didn’t want him to ever pull out again.
Blood dripped from his lips as he cut his own skin, through gritted teeth a final question, “Do you want my fawns?”
Your legs pressed together, you knew there was only one answer and yet you asked yourself. Did you want that? To carry his children? A moan cut through your thinking, “Yes!”
The fire roared, a response to his own reaction.
Alastor felt his mind slip under again, noticing the wild way his shadow was dancing around the walls before his senses all dulled except touch.
The bed drifted away from under his knees and the walls melted like spent candles. Just sounds echoing off space as your moans deepened. As if learning, you began to whisper ‘yes’ to yourself as you felt a building pressure in your stomach. 
Every thrust into you further separated your brain from your body. Your eyes lost focus as you watched the door bounce. No, wait, you were bouncing, right? Bouncing up and down the stiff rail of Alastor’s arousal. Your head fell forward, gasping as you felt him harden further while buried deep in you. He was going to cum again, you could feel it, you would feel it. The thought made your body shake as a pressure grew steadily in you. 
Not a new sensation, but a different one. 
“Louder,” another thinly veiled demand from Alastor that seemed to come from somewhere else entirely. Your eyes noticed a small light on the floor near the wall. A radio, buzzing with the same crackle as his voice.
“Yes,” you ground out, his hands were slippery with sweat as his nails dug in to ensure he didn’t lose his grip on you. “Yes, yes, yes.” He brought you down entirely and only let you off a little, an unspoken fear he would release too close to your entrance and he’d lose precious seed he needed your body to receive. “Yes! Alastor!” You weren’t sure who was talking now, as it surely couldn’t be you. You’d never —
“You’re better than him. You’re bigger and stronger and and he never —- he could never…”
He was suddenly regretting the position, unable to watch you fall apart as he so lovingly spread you open. 
With a shriek, your back crashed into his chest as Alastor fell backward into his pillows. He didn’t miss a beat. He continued fucking up into you but let one hand reach your clit. When you whined, he breathed into your hair, “I need you to orgasm.” Other hand pressing down on your womb, “Many cultures believed a woman couldn’t get pregnant without finding her release first. Surely it’ll take. Cum for me my doe.”
You shook your head, “Alastor that isn’t possible.” Not that you were arguing against the way his finger was rubbing up and down on your swollen clit, you just felt the need to remind him of the obvious. Your eyes wandered up and back to see the hauntingly wide antlers now. His transformed face barely visible in the shadows.
“I thought you were a good girl.” His mouth kissed at the base of your ears, hand over your womb pressing in and exaggerating the feeling of his cock bulging from under your skin. “Darling,” he groaned, “Are you ready for my knot?”
You moaned at the words. No, of course not. 
“Yes,” you got quiet, embarrassed again. Your hand snaked up and behind to hold his shoulder for stability. 
“Relax,” he hissed, feeling your body tensing in anticipation.
You tried your best, but between his strumming finger and the sting still at your entrance you struggled to let things go limp.
This time you felt it growing beneath you. Alastor was ready as well, pushing it in before it was swollen so large he’d have to force it or just suffer with it outside.
Lubricated with the multiple loads already fucked into and then out of you, the knot pushed past your entrance with ease. But then you felt it expanding in you. Eyes crossing as they rolled back with the foreign sensation. It didn’t hurt, but a little alarm was going off in the back of your brain. How could something natural feel so unnatural? And how—
Your body locked up, muscles from thighs to neck tight. Alastor’s finger hadn’t stopped, and as the second knotted release flooded you with his feverish need, as his knot trapped every drop and forced it up past your cervix you tripped into your first orgasm. Different from your own hand and toys, the build up hadn’t been a slow ratcheting climb. No, you were rolling through waves of nearly pained pleasure. The spasming forced your body to feel him even more, pulling him deeper, triggering another wave to crash into you.
Alastor wanted to praise you, a rush of hormones and ego expanding his chest but the sensations had him so overwhelmed he was manually breathing. His hand didn’t want to stop, because then the way your pussy was positively sucking him in would also end. But your little cries and moans got increasingly choked and strained.
The calm briefly offered by knotting a mate during his rut came to your rescue, Alastor dragging a still barely moving finger up your body and going slack into the pillows.
Deep breaths, both of you fighting to slow them down. Alastor was experiencing another moment of clarity, only slightly upset he had doled out so much tenderness.
But for you, there was no deep fog of a heat to numb the sensations and let the more bothersome bits of consciousness turn off. Your mind was just as clear as normal. A little lusty, but nowhere near Alastor’s altered state. As you laid against his chest, waiting for him to be able to pull out, you could feel the pains and aches setting in.
Alastor summoned a minion, food set down on his desk under a silver cloche. Your eyes caught the black and white creature before it was whisked away.
Sitting up, you flinched but fought against the pain, “Alastor. What was that?”
His hands pulled you back down by the shoulders, skin on skin, “My minion. One of many.” 
 Exhausted, you could only sigh, “So, the errand.”
His hands went up defensively, “Oh come now, did you really think I was the good guy?” You didn’t reply. The silence began to bother him. Odd, given he usually didn’t give a fuck.
But he’d asked a lot of you, and you agreed willingly. You did as you were told. A little twinge of concern he had actually upset you wiggled between his ribs.
His hands slipped down your waist and settled over your stomach, “…Are you hungry? If you stay like this, I can help you eat.” You took a deep breath in, but didn’t even move to look at him. He squirmed ever so slightly, “I can only assume you’re… quite sore. Perhaps a bath? But I can’t guarantee we’ll make it out much cleaner than we are now.” His smile was smaller, just lips; no teeth. As his antlers withdrew and his limbs all returned to their proper places he could turn his head enough to look at your face.
Alastor felt relief wash over him to see you deeply asleep in his arms. It wasn’t a bad idea, to sleep before the next spell hit him and he was too far gone to think about baths or meals.
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
Alastor awoke in the dark. He found his hands and ankles tied behind his back, his body naked and sweating. He was on fire, pieces of himself lifting in the hot breeze and blowing away. He could feel his body fragmenting. You were just a little ways away and he tried desperately to reach out to you but as his eyes adjusted you were suddenly too far. If he could just get you to take a single piece of him, a shard of himself, he would live still. Even when the rest of him was dead and gone, he’d be alive in your hands. A raging stress, the fire now reaching his bones. It wasn’t too late. He still had time. Just a sliver of his existence was all he needed to get to you.
When you woke up, your body was at the foot of the bed. Looking over you saw Alastor lazily stroking his painfully hard erection. His gaze downcast, vision cloudy with unmet needs.
“Alastor?” With shaky arms you lifted yourself. You were hot. Was it the fire? No, before it had no heat. A little damp outline into the comforter formed where your body had been. 
“You’re awake.” He reached over and grabbed your ankle, pulling you towards him and rolling you onto your back. Hand still around your ankle, he pulled your leg against his chest.
“Alastor.”
He sunk into you without hesitation, hips rolling into you roughly. Your body was rocking against the bed, wood creaking against wood with the steady force of his thrusts.
It felt good. Better than before, your walls felt soft and puffy around him. Alastor’s head was low, groaning every time he bottomed out. You could see just enough past him to watch the bed canopy swaying above you both before he folded you in half and leaned fully over you.
His eyes were unfocused like his mind, staring into the bed. A large palm at either side of your head, his back curved as he angled his hips to reach deeper yet.
“I’m so hot.” You were struggling to get the words out. It felt so good, the deeper in you he reached the more you seemed to be melting away.
Your hips were lifted off the mattress, held up entirely by his cock as he continued to rut into you. He could feel the fever in you rising. 
Bent and tangled together, his head was nearly above yours. He was sweating, hair stuck down and ears folded back. A bead fell from his cheek and hit your forehead. He was working so hard. Such a strong man. A strong buck. 
Something in you snapped. Something twisted and burned in your belly. You brought the other leg up to let yourself be folded in half completely, and his eyes wandered to your face. Your frontal cortex was just static as the lights were shutting off in most parts of your more human faculties. 
Everything got quiet in you, a deep seated feeling of security creeping up your legs and sinking into your bones. With Alastor in you, nothing bad could happen to you. If you were carrying his offspring you’d be guaranteed a new level of protection. You needed it. You wouldn’t survive if you weren’t fucked and bred by the overlord. 
How could your body be wrong when the feeling was so natural? So intensely confident?
“Alastor!” Your nails dug into biceps, hands clamoring up his arms to cling onto him, “breed me, please.” 
He was caught alight, mind on ablaze with his raging fever. Your plea was a magnifying glass concentrating the sun into him and sparking a wildlife. Alastor was defenseless against the way your words affected him. 
He could feel it, he could smell it, your heat triggered finally. His lips caught yours as his hands slipped up the blanket with how he had to contort to reach your mouth. You moaned into him, teeth on teeth as neither of you had any ability to finesse things.
“On your knees,” he instructed. You scrambled to turn around as he briefly left your body. A desperate whine in the seconds that stretched on, the emptiness unbearable. It hurt to have him anywhere but balls deep in you.
His hands slipped around your tail that still tried to swish side to side. When he tugged you gasped, the closest sensation you had was having your hair pulled. Chills ran up your spine. You nearly fell forward, but a strong hand wrapped around your neck and pulled your head back. He lined up, adjusting his legs wider to get down to your level.
“Are you feeling it?” He nipped at your shoulder, “Your heat?”
You pushed your ass back and pressed his tip into you. The sound that tore through your chest was answer enough for him as you tried your best to move along his length all on your own.
“You’re okay,” he squeezed lightly around your neck, pussy twitching around him as lightning snapped through you. “I’ll take care of you.”
Words that made your head spin. His body on yours felt like security. Everywhere his skin touched yours was a gulp of cold water in a drought.
A cliche, as he began to move again and his cock hit your g-spot every couple thrusts, you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. His fever was matched to yours, no heat exchanged as warm and wet flesh moved around warm and wet flesh. Was that your hand or his on your stomach? Both were searing, both soft and slick. One of your hands was reaching down to hold his arm for support.
Eyes slipping shut, you imagined this was what being high felt like. You were out of your body entirely, feeling his dick slipping in and out of you from a different plane of existence. There was a sense your mouth was moving but no awareness of what you were saying. Truly just babbling as Alastor’s speed hitched. A clawed hand on your hip cut into you as he pressed deeper with every thrust.
He guided you down onto your stomach, hand now resting on your right shoulder to keep you in place. You were entirely flat, his knees parting your legs so he could get flush against your core. 
His knot was in place as he began to swell. You felt it again, him flooding your womb as he released directly into your twitching cervix. A euphoria filled you so totally you were sure you could feel the cells of your body humming.
Like a cool breeze had blown down, your fevers broke nearly immediately.
“Oh,” you squeaked, Alastor’s hand releasing you as he lied on top of you. The weight of him was oddly arousing as it gave a clear comparison of your smaller size. “I think you’re right. Estrus.”
He nodded, rolling you both onto your sides, “Would you like the good news or bad news first?”
Resting your head on his extended arm, you tried getting comfortable despite the sticky feeling of your skin and the burning in your thighs, “bad news.”
“You won’t be walking straight for days.” He said it with a heavy tone of pride.
“Oh geez…,” you could feel his knot still throbbing between your hips, “The good news?”
“Your heat is going to make me even more desperate to fill you,” his free hand ran down your sides and slipped between your legs to feel where you two were connected. 
You turned your head the best you could, “That’s not good news, Alastor!”
He laughed, “I lied. Oh well!”
While the good news had been a lie, the way your body’s shift into meeting Alastor’s instincts upped his feral responses was not.  You nibbled on fruit and bread and cured meats in the small windows the clouds around your humanity parted.
But when they’d roll back in, a tempest of feral wants crashing into you both, you’d find yourself clinging to the deer demon.
You could have had an apple in one hand and be mid bite when his musk would reach you and your grip would loosen. With just a moan and a lifting of your hips Alastor would be dragging you closer, crawling over your body, mounting you wherever you two happened to be.
It wasn’t that you’d become confident by the end of the day, but that you’d lost all semblance of shame and embarrassment.
When Alastor pulled you onto his lap and placed your hands on his peach fuzz covered antlers, you didn’t need verbal instructions. It took all of your arm span to reach them, so you held tightly as he thrust up into you. None of his noises had been as intoxicating as the ones he made when you were leaning over him and squeezing his prongs with every jostle of your womb. Perhaps he’d lost his shame too, loud and long moans the other residents had to have heard spilling from his open mouth. 
The wet slap of your ass coming back down onto his thighs as he bounced you was barely registered. Head hung low to meet his black engulfed eyes, you didn’t notice his smile was gone for the first time since you’d met him. Pinhole red pupils were locked on your face and imperceptibly roamed around your lust filled expression. 
One hand reached up and rubbed the soft skin of your downturn rabbit’s ears between his thumb and index finger. Soft. Velvet. 
A sensation that was wholly pleasant, not sexual in any nature but feeding the comfort provided by Alastor’s cock buried to the hilt. He wanted to enjoy the smile it gave you but he could feel his orgasm climbing exponentially.
There it was again, the darkness of your combined heat and rut slinking in. Body to body, your own sounds harmonizing with his and losing distinction. “Alastor–,” eyes drifting shut, “Please. I feel empty.” His previous loads dripping down your thighs, then down his own, and soaking into the carpet. “Fill me up. Please, can you breed me?”
His hand pulled down on your ear, “That was never in question.”
You let go of his extended prongs, arching your back to take a kiss. More. His tongue in your mouth, another hole full of Alastor. His hands both reunited on your ass and used the flesh there like handles. He fucked up into you, withholding the growing at his base, until he felt you cumming around him again. As your body sucked him in with rolling spasms, he pressed you down on his upthrust. A pained moan as it was pushed in a little late. 
Lightning behind your eyelids, your mouths hanging open and pressed together. 
Both of you a pile on the floor, a cold blue flame and soft music playing from the still broken radio. Uncharacteristically, Alastor’s arms wrapped around your smaller form and clung to you. The sensations were popping up one by one. Sticky skin, sweat rolling down your face, hair sticking to your neck and forehead. You’d have to peel each other apart. Which you did, eventually. When Alastor could pull out, he followed through on the bath he’d been thinking about. 
You protested, reminding him you’d be soaking the floor with displaced bath water as soon as the next urge to mate came around. But he laughed, smile back in place as if it had never left, “Sweetheart if I do my job right you won’t even realize you’re not in bed until you’re knotted and knocked up.”
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
He hadn’t been lying about the protective second day. But what he hadn’t anticipated was just how long that aggressive desire to keep others at a distance from you would last. While your deal had been in place for a little while before his rut, it wasn’t until after your time together in his room that it seemed to ever be used. 
But you didn’t need to call out for him, like he had said. No, anytime someone even looked at you with a nasty thought, you were graced with his presence. Most people figured it out quickly enough, but occasionally new and brave idiots would approach you with trouble. 
So when a tall and imposing creature cornered you in a shop, hand holding something sharp and shiny and asked, “Scared, little hare?", you could only smile as your face was lit up by a green glow and offer a little advice, “No, but you should be.”
deleted scene ˗ˏˋ Masterlist ˎˊ˗
˖  ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖
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ecoamerica · 1 month
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Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc
The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!
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