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#casual body swap
nonotnolan · 3 months
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Spring Break
Simon let out a deep sigh as he dropped Aiden's bookbag onto the floor of his dorm room. "Alright, man, you're all set," he said, giving Aiden a friendly nod. "I've taken the last of your mid-term final exams. Unless there's anything else you needed for me to do while I'm in your body, we're clear to swap back."
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The first time Aiden had approached him, offering $200 to swap bodies for an exam... Simon had thought it was some sort of prank. The magical amulet was very real, as it turned out. How Aiden had found the item was unclear, but Simon had quickly learned that Aiden had no moral qualms about inhabiting other people's bodies. He was the fifth generation in a long line of successful businessmen, and so the expectation that money could buy anything he wanted had been hard-coded into Aiden's personality. After all, it bought him admission to a prestigious college and membership into one of the most competitive fraternities. Why couldn't money also buy you the expertise that you needed to succeed?
He fidgeted with the collar of his shirt. "I... actually, I did have a proposition for you," he said, avoiding eye contact. Ever since Aiden had learned that Simon was a gay man, he had been requesting that their quick academic swaps last longer and longer. Aiden was still in the closet, and living Simon's life for an evening allowed him to experience the life he wanted to live while still maintaining his straight-laced reputation.
Simon crossed his arms in annoyance. "I mean, I was planning on spending most of my Spring Break playing video games, but I know you're going to make it worth my time. What were you thinking, the first weekend?"
"The graduating seniors of my fraternity always book an eight day excursion out to the Hamptons. My proposal is that you would attend the trip in my stead."
"Jesus fuck, Aiden!' he yelled, taking a moment to process what he had just heard. "Eight days? Are you serious? This is the first time we'll be swapped for more than 12 hours, and you're just giving me a whole-ass week? What happens if your brothers get suspicious?"
Aiden just rolled his eyes. "Please, we both know I'm massively unpopular in the fraternity. They'll probably find you to be an improvement. Father allocated $20,000 for the week, plus travel and lodging. Anything you don't spend is yours to keep. What do you say?" Seeing his own body make Aiden's characteristic smarmy grin was still a really weird experience.
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"I... Jesus, dude..." Simon would never be able to understand Aiden's detachment from the value of money. "I still can't believe you want to be me so badly. I mean... okay, look... that's tempting as hell, but... it was weird enough knowing that you've taken my body out to the bar scene. I don't know if I'm comfortable letting you live my life for over a week. What if you run into someone I know?"
"Oh, I wasn't planning to stay around here," he said, growing more excited as he began to sway Simon. "I've been preparing this trip for a few months by withdrawing Father's allowance and saving it up in case you said yes. If you give me your body for a week, I'll be flying out to San Francisco. Anyway, don't sell yourself short, this body is fantastic."
Simon shook his head in disbelief. "I mean... I want to argue, but I'd have to be an idiot to leave that much money sitting on the table. Alright, you've bought yourself a Spring Break trip." He picked Aiden's bag back up off the ground as he mentally steeled himself for a week in the life of an out-of-touch social scion. "Alright... do I need any extra information to pull this off, or...?"
Aiden hopped to his feet and wrapped him in an awkward bear hug. "Oh, you're the best. I'll forward you the trip reservations, and I'll change the PIN to my debit card so that you can just use that. See you in a week!"
"Yeah... see you in a week..." Simon echoed. He pulled out Aiden's phone, and scrolled down to the one person in the Fraternity who knew about Simon's secret, Aiden's roommate Grant. "You were right," he said, once Grant picked up the phone. "Aiden offered a swap over Spring Break and it was too good to turn down."
"Hah! Called it!" Grant said, with a triumphant laugh. "I told you you he would. I made certain to emphasize how much pussy all of us were going to be chasing out in the Hamptons, just in case he was on the fence about it."
Simon couldn't help but laugh. "Aiden really hasn't figured out that you're gay after all this time, has he?"
"Of course not, that would involve him paying attention to someone other than himself. And it had better stay that way-- dude's annoying enough without him having some sort of puppy dog crush on me. Anyway, I hope you're ready for a week of rampant debauchery in the Hamptons. Aiden's body is sexy as fuck when literally anyone else is inside of it. And we both know how sexy my body is."
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The incoming text message was the only reason Simon realized that Grant had already hung up, but he was not about to complain about receiving a pic like that.
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hybbat · 11 months
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You know a world where your ability to carry something is determined by quantity rather than size or weight is very easy to accept in a video game, because of mechanical convenience, but would probably be so strange in a story in any other medium, and I think a few more books and shows could stand to get a little funkier with the fundamentals of their reality like that.
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platonic-prompts · 2 years
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Writing Prompt
A is stuck in a time loop, but each time they go through, they end up in a different person's body.
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braveparanoiac · 8 months
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"...he does, in fact, breathe." and he is not elaborating on why he knows that.
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u3pxx · 2 months
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KIM KITSURAGI - “Is that. My kineema.”
COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - Something in him is about to break, *big time*.
EMPATHY - And it’s not going to be pretty, do something!
- DRAMA [Formidable] - Everything is fine!
- “Sure is.”
DRAMA [Formidable: Failure] - Surely he’s aware that he’s not the *only* person in the world who owns a Kineema?
YOU - “Is it really *yours*? I mean, plenty of people have their own Kineemas, right? Like working men, government offices, uh, firefighters I guess, maybe even animal control people? Exactly! A million different people who could’ve driven it into the uh…”
DRAMA - Pause, my liege! Ixnay on the Ineemakay!
YOU - “It could even be our *mysterious* joyrider!”
KIM KITSURAGI - Your frenzied babbling falls deaf to the lieutenant's ears. Instead, he approaches the broken vehicle, sunken in the ice. He moves with a caution and gentleness you haven’t seen him display before.
INLAND EMPIRE - It must be cold and lonely down there, in the icy water. Maybe he could sense its sorrow, calling to him…
PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Easy: Success] - His hands, which are always stiffly placed behind his back, are trembling.
ENDURANCE - This is the shuffle of a tired, tired man.
HALF LIGHT - He’s going to do something drastic because of you. Oh god, terrible! You’re a terrible liar! You can’t look at this, you just can’t!
VOLITION [Formidable: Success] - It's not *you* who drove his kineema into the sea. You have plenty of faults, but this one is decidedly not yours.
KIM KITSURAGI - He kneels down with his head bowed, casting his face in shadow. He plants a hand on the ice to stabilize himself, squinting to get a better view of the motor carriage. “Detective, it says ‘57’ on it.”
YOU - Sweat drips down your brow, and you feel a terrible headache coming. “Maybe our joyrider has an affinity for that number?”
LOGIC - He's not stupid, he knows that it's not that.
KIM KITSURAGI - “57.”
YOU - “What about 57?”, you brace yourself.
KIM KITSURAGI - “Precinct 57.”
YOU - You wince. “Kim, look-”
KIM KITSURAGI - “When I woke up in the Whirling-in-Rags with no memory of what happened during the days before, I've taken note that something of mine has gone missing.” He grits his teeth. "A very. Important. Something."
He runs his hands over his face, messing his already unkempt hair in the process. Regret creeps up on his features. “God. Fuck. They’re going to fire me over this, they’re not going to hear me out.”
EMPATHY - Desperation settles in the lieutenant's tone. Sadly, you find yourself in agreement, even if you don’t want it to be the truth.
YOU - “People are more valuable than machines, Kim.”
KIM KITSURAGI - “Not people like me.” He rasps.
YOU - “…”
KIM KITSURAGI - Before you can say anything more, you fail to notice the lieutenant carefully walking onto the edge of the ice. He looks over the frigid water, a dizzying blue that mirrors and distorts his exhausted face back to him.
YOU - “Kim?”
KIM KITSURAGI - Seconds pass as he looks to be contemplating something. Out of nowhere, he casually takes another step where the ice ends and the sea begins. It happens all too quick for the lieutenant to even voice a call for help— if he even wanted to — his body plunging into the cold water before your eyes.
YOU - “KIM!!!!”
uhhh bonus stuff? sorry i have swap au brainworms pfttt
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(im not sure what skills kim has at the moment so rn he only has narration as his inner monologue ok whoops, i would like to keep harry as the guy who thinks in dialogue trees so im still figuring it out pfttt)
also, this was done bc i wanted to expand on these old scribbles of mine, just like an idea, i just think that he'd be having an even worse time wheezes
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sarahwatchesthings · 6 months
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"Bi-regeneration" is nothing. It's barely a ripple in the waters. Way back in Four's run, we had Romana casually swapping new bodies around like sweaters. We had the second Master just helping himself to some other guy's body when his regenerations ran out. We had the mysterious Watcher who existed apart from Four before he regenerated and then joined with him to become Five. We had... whatever happened when Five became Six. And then in new Who we've had Ten regenerating into himself. We've had the metacrisis and the DoctorDonna and Tentoo. We've had the Time Lords just lobbing a whole new set of regenerations at Eleven. Thirteen regenerating into the Master and then back again. The Fugitive Doctor and the Timeless Child. The history of Doctor Who is a history of ever more insane and incoherent regeneration lore. Bi-regeneration? Absolutely. Why the hell not?
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wantonlywindswept · 1 month
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another trope inversion of GAR/Guard interactions:
the GAR is entirely aware that Coruscant is a shit posting.
they're not blind; they can see all the anti-clone sentiment when they're on leave. even when they're deployed, it's not like they're cut off from all news - they know how many times bills for clone rights have gone to the Senate floor and been ruthlessly voted down. they can see how even their Jedi are restrained by the Senate dragging its feet and making bad choices and handling the war like it's a game of dejarik since it will never affect them personally.
very few politicians have the respect of the clones.
but the Guard still have to work with the spoiled, self-centered bastards, and the GAR knows that they're not being treated well. but what can they do? they have no rights, the Jedi are as trapped under the Senate's thumb as they are, and it's not like they can get regular citizens to do anything.
so they offer their support as much as they can. any Guard, any Corrie who needs help, all they have to do is find one of their brothers and it will be offered without any questions.
you'd think that crime rate would go up when battle-traumatized soldiers are given leave on a city-planet like Coruscant, but it actually goes down.
way down.
the thing criminals come to realize is that if you are being chased by one of the Guard, if ANY other clone catches sight of you, it is ON SIGHT. clones in casual clothes carrying food and drinks have dropped everything to immediately join a Guard's hunt, throwing themselves into the pursuit with glee and an energy that the usually-exhausted Guards often lack. (some of them howl. those, the criminal underground agrees, are the worst.) 
and with hundreds or thousands of clones wandering around during battalions' leave, it's possible to run into one of them anywhere. and they usually travel in packs.
best just to lay low for a while.
when it leaks that the Guard regularly run low on supplies, all sorts of things start to go missing on the venators. just a box or a crate here or there, ration packs or bacta patches or cold-weather gear. there are millions of clones and thousands of ships; it's not like every little thing can be tracked by the quartermasters. 
(rex realizes that, for whatever reason, his battalion is always prioritized for resupply, and rarely any questions are asked about their requisitions. rex takes immediate and shameless advantage of this. rex manages, somehow, to lose two entire bacta tanks, along with the bacta to fill them.)
and ofc the idea that started this whole ramble - when a shiny Corrie stumbles somewhere where some of the 501st are shooting the shit, causing everything to immediately come to a halt. the kid is clutching his helmet and one of his pauldrons to his chest; his hair is mussed up and there are tears on his cheeks and bruises on his face and unadulterated panic in his eyes. 
there's an angry call in the corridor.
the shiny flinches.
fives grabs him, hears him squeak, snaps out orders. echo yanks off his bucket and his upper armor; jesse lunges for a blanket. they hustle the kid into a chair, drape the blanket over his lower body, hastily swap his upper armor and helmet for echo's. fives shoves the armor somewhere, doesn't matter, it's out of sight with the telltale red, and they all barely have enough time to drop themselves back into the chairs arranged around the table and pick up their cards before some natborn stomps into the room.
anything we can do for you, sir? sorry, no, the Guard didn't stop in here. we saw him head back down toward the rotunda, though. yes, sir. have a nice day, sir.
they close and lock the door. fives goes back to the shiny. fives was instantly prepared to help a fellow clone in need.
fives was not prepared for tears.
the kid gets snot all over the inside of echo's helmet. they take him back to Guard HQ. fox is painfully, desperately relieved to see him. fox looks too-thin and too-tired but there is a fresh GAR-issued bacta patch covering a slash across the side of his cheek. he thanks them for saving the shiny, like that's something that ever needs gratitude, but is swept away before any of them can say that. 
fives doesn't think that misplaced bacta and pilfered rations are enough support for the Guard anymore.
thankfully, rex and the rest of the GAR agree.
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secretidentie · 5 days
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*Bruce calling the JL after swapping bodies with Clark* : I have to notify you that superman is inside me
*JL casually* : Yeah, what's new
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donatellawritings · 3 months
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Hiiiii mamacita!! Totally love your writing! Wondering if you’ve seen the trend of girls pranking their bfs by telling them they got waxed by a guy? I’ve already seen loads of fics about it so I was thinking maybe you could do a Rafe one but instead of the wax maybe she could say she got a massage from a dude? And like not even a prank but she went to the spa and actually got massaged by a guy but she thought it was totally innocent so she casually tells Rafe LOL he’d go ballistic
hi baby! omg this is actually so funny
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rafe was completely aware about how serious you were about self-care - you loved being pampered and that was partly thanks to the lavish lifestyle that rafe had introduced to you. you got regular blowouts, fresh sets of cutesy acrylic nails, monthly facials, weekly shopping trips on the mainland - you were a spoiled princess through and through. rafe didn’t mind it though, you worked hard in school and never failed to be the devoted trophy girlfriend that he proudly sauntered around the island. so, when you told rafe that you’d be treating yourself and sarah to a spa day, he didn’t even bat an eyelash, only pressing his lips to yours as he slid his debit card into your purse and slapped your ass as you walked out of the front door.
it was a typical spa day for you, you’d bashfully talk about your days with rafe to your nail lady, while she engrossed you with details about her barging clients. the two of you exchanged bubbly laughs as you sipped on your mocktail, wearing nothing but the fluffy white robe that came complimentary with your spa visit. you were so involved with the relaxing environment that came with getting waited on hand and foot, that you didn’t even realize that your regular masseuse had been swapped out for a middle-aged man who had taken over her position.
now dressed in your figure-hugging, white lace-trimmed romper that rode up the plush curve of your ass, you strutted through the front door of tannyhill, chanel bag in-tow as you relished in your fluid and relaxed state. the exposed skin of your legs, thighs, arms, and chest glowed from the luxuriously creamy oils and lotions used on your skin, your face radiant from your facial as you raised your dior sunglasses to sit on top of your hair. “papi, i’m home,” you sang, placing your purse onto the couch, a low sigh leaving your lips as you reached to grab a glass from the top cabinet.
the thin fabric of your romper became wedged between your taut asscheeks as you stood on the tips of your freshly pedicured toes, a shriek coming from your lips as a harsh smack came down on your ass, “coño, raaafe,” you whined, your pained pout quickly subsiding into a smile as your boyfriend chuckles lightly, pushing his hand down against your spine, bending you over the counter.
rafe was shirtless, wearing nothing but his belted slacks and socks as he feigned a few thrusts into your clothed bottom, before leaning over to kiss the back of your head, “how was the spa, mama, y’got everything done?” he questioned, reaching over you to grab your glass, bringing it to the fridge to fill up with water.
with a smile, you nodded as you approached rafe, sliding your arms around his naked waist with a dreamy sigh, “yeah, i got my nails done, we went for a french manicure and pedicure,” you raised one of your hands to rafe’s eyesight, your eyes brightening with excitement as he kissed your knuckles in approval, “i got a facial, my eyebrows and lashes done, i got waxed,” you sang, earning an enticed hum from rafe as his eyebrows raised with peaked interest.
a giggle escaped your puffed lips as rafe’s hand slid down your back, before he gripped your plush ass, jiggling it a bit as he curved his finger into your wet taint, causing you to throw your head back with a dopey smile, “rafe, listen to me,” you whined playfully.
with a nod, your boyfriend motioned for you to continue as he brought the glass of water to his pink lips, “and i got a full body massage, they used this warm oil - ugh, it was amazing,” you mewled, dramatically leaning your forehead against rafe’s bare chest, “the masseuse was really good, i think he was new-” you continued, bringing your swollen lips together as rafe cocked his head to the side, completely unamused by your revelation.
“he? didn’t y’tell me that it was a girl who does your massages?” rafe quizzed, setting his glass in the sink as he pulled away from you, adjusting his signet ring to sit further on his finger, his jaw strained.
internally you slapped yourself - sure, you knew that the masseuse was only there to do his job, but rafe had made it a point that you were to only have a female masseuse, he wasn’t too keen on having some guy running his hands down your oiled body. now nervously toying with the laced hem of your romper, you bit down into your bottom lip.
“yeah, but she’s on leave sooo,” you stepped closer to rafe, batting your wispy lashes up at his cold eyes, sighing in defeat as he remained stoic, “look, i didn’t even know that they hired someone new, papi,” you squeaked, bringing one of your legs to snake around rafe’s waist as you pushed yourself one, wrapping your other leg around him as his hand instinctively held you up by your ass.
rafe rolled his eyes, unimpressed as he carried you, “y’not going there anymore, princess,” he decided, pecking a short kiss to your lips as you opened your mouth to speak, “m’serious, y’know how i feel about it so don’t fuckin’ ask me,” he confirmed, patting your ass as you let out an exaggerated whine against the skin of his neck.
“you’re so strict,” you spoke, your voice muffled and strained as rafe nodded, refusing to fall into your complaints while he craned his neck back, forcing your eyes to meet, “wait- what if i just let you do my massages, but i can keep going to the spa?” you beamed.
searching your eyes for any hidden intentions, rafe shrugged, “i will fuck you up if you get another massage from him, y’understand?” he warned, completely entranced by your doe eyes and plump lips, not missing the way your warm pussy strained against the fabric of your romper.
smacking a noisy and wet kiss to rafe’s lips, you nodded furiously, “i understand,” you hummed sweetly, letting out a soft moan as rafe suddenly let you drop a few inches, before catching your thighs with his large hand, causing your aching pussy to taste the perfect amount of friction against the crotch of your romper.
with lowly hung eyes, rafe swiftly placed you on top of the kitchen counter forcefully spreading your legs to reveal the sticky wet patch that sat right on your pussy. crouching to reach eye level with your wetness, rafe wordlessly pressed his tongue against the damp spot, allowing his spit to dampen the sweetly-tinged fabric of your romper before enclosing his warm mouth around your clothed-pussy in a sloppy kiss. overly sensitive from the brazilian wax, you sucked in a breath as you tried to close your legs around rafe’s face.
“don’t fuckin’ touch me,” he hummed, licking another long and slippery stripe up your covered pussy, sucking on the wet spot as he held your legs spread with a tight grip on both of your knees, “y’so fuckin’ wet, mama - fuck,” he moaned needily, leaning his face in closer to your pussy as you blissfully throw your head back with parted lips.
“fuck, papi, s’so sensitive,” you moaned, exhaling an uneven shudder of a breath as rafe pressed his tongue into your fabric covered hole, maintaining his strict grip on your wobbly knees as he swallowed your pussy in an open mouthed kiss. your eyes rolled back as your lashes fluttered closed, your tummy tightening with each drooling lick the rafe pressed to you, your freshly painted nails scratching against the smooth countertop, eager for any kind of sensation to ease the race of your incoming orgasm.
rafe's piercing eyes closed with bliss as he pulled your knees to rest over his shoulders, carefully carrying you to lay on the floor, his slick and hot tongue continuing to lap at you, a short laugh vibrating against your clothed clit at the sound of you yelping as your back hit the polished hardwood floor. with your legs now thrown over his broad shoulders, it was easy for rafe to dig his face deeper into you. softly sucking on your clit through the fabric of your glove-like romper, rafe opened his eyes, the sight of your perked nipples straining against the flimsy clothing egging him on just right.
"y'gonna cum all over yourself, mama?" he mocked, hastily spitting on your the area right above your throbbing clit, greedily watching as his spit dripped down between your puffy pussy, "shit," he groaned, returning his head between your legs as you let out a hoarse cry.
with a few more generous licks, your warm cum creamed through the fabric that clung to your pussy, leaving rafe in a cum drunk state as he sucked every drop possible, through your clothing. your eyes slowly opened, your pupils blown as your gaze met rafe's as he licked you selfishly, eager to drink you whole. your chest huffed in and out, your vision grainy as rafe finally pulled his handsome face from between your legs, his nose, lips, and chin shining from your cum and his spit. your plump lips parted as you took in rafe's messy state, before they expanded into a dazed smile.
grabbing rafe's face, you pulled him into a searing kiss, shamelessly sucking on his tongue, eager to taste yourself before pulling away with a 'pop'. the two of you lazily smiled at each other, both too fucked out without actually fucking to speak.
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permanentswaps · 3 months
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Breaking Eric’s Trust Pt. 2
Read Part 1, written by vice versa swaps, here.
Will:
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After the swap, we walked back through the parking lot and Bryce drove me back to my new home. My new body was much leaner than I was used to, making me feel a bit disoriented as I walked through the door. But I couldn't deny the appeal of Bryce’s youthful a physique – even if it was very different from the heavy muscles I'd worked for decades to build on my own body.
Entering Bryce’s room, I took in the surroundings and decided to try my hand at some sketches.
"Let’s see if this really improves my art skills," I thought to myself.
I quickly found myself engrossed in the creative process, a feeling I'd been craving to get back to. As the sketches took shape, I couldn't help but admire the dexterity of my new hands.
Distracted, I gently traced my fingertips along the veins of my opposite hand. Slowly I traced up my forearm and to my bicep, which I flexed. I then moved my hand over to my muscular chest and grazing my new sensitive nipples. I raised my arm to flex in the mirror and thought to myself “This body may not be as strong as mine, but it’s hot as fuck. Why would Bryce ever want to give this up.”
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Hot and bothered, I retreated to the bathroom where I stepped into the hot shower. Felling the hot water falling across my back, I lowered my right hand to my cock while feeling my muscles with my left.
“I’m so fucking sexy. I’m so fucking sexy.” I growled to myself, before eventually cumming across the shower wall. As I came down from climax, I shook off the thought, reminding myself I’m only borrowing this body.
Just as I finished up in the bathroom, my phone rang – it was Eric, asking to hang out. When Eric arrived, I greeted him with a smile, trying to act casual.
"Hey, Eric! What's up, man?" I, now in Bryce's body, said, attempting to sound as natural as possible.
"Not much, man! Just figured I'd swing by and see what you're up to," Eric replied.
I chuckled, "Oh, not much. Wanna play some Call of Duty?"
The two of us settled into the gaming setup, controllers in hand. As we played, I couldn't help but marvel at the experience of hanging out with my son from a different perspective.
In the midst of the gaming session, I saw this as my opportunity to ask about things I wouldn’t normally know about.
"How are you feeling about going away to school?" I asked, trying to keep the question casual.
"A bit nervous, but I’m mostly excited and ready to get out of the house – date some hot girls. I am worried about my dad though; it's gonna be tough for him to be alone like this, I think," Eric replied.
I felt a twinge of sadness at Eric's response but turned my focus back to the game.
Changing the topic, Eric asked, "How about you, how are you feeling about the gap year?"
I hesitated for a moment, then replied, "I'm not sure if it was the right choice, to be honest."
"Well, at least in a year, you'll still be off to college. Then, we’ll be able to hang all the time and you'll have your pick of all the guys there," Eric said with a playful grin.
I smirked to myself, "Yeah, that'll be great," before indulging in a brief fantasy about what it would be like to live Bryce’s life in college instead of just here at home.
Bryce
A week had passed since we visited the lab, and Mr. Sullivan and I had gotten surprisingly good at mimicking each other's mannerisms and habits. As we were packing up the car to move Eric up to campus, he casually asked, “Would it be alright if Bryce came with us to drop me off?”
“I think that’s a great idea,” I responded, happy to not let Mr. Sullivan miss out on this big moment.
The three of us drove up to campus together, joking and listening to music the whole way. We grabbed a quick bite to eat before walking around the campus and bidding an emotional farewell. Mr. Sullivan, in my body, teared up a bit, to which Eric laughed and said, "Don't worry, dude. I'll FaceTime you all the time," before playfully punching his shoulder.
As we climbed back into the car to drive home, I realized this was the first time Mr. Sullivan and I had been alone together since the swap.
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"How are you doing?" I asked, glancing at him.
"Alright, I guess. I'm just really going to miss him," Mr. Sullivan responded, a hint of melancholy in his voice. "The other night we were hanging out, and he told me he was worried about me, or you now, I guess. He thought I’d be lonely without him, and damn, I think he’s right."
"Oh, really? I'm sorry to hear that. But at least you know he cares," I said, attempting to offer some consolation.
"Yeah, I guess," he sighed.
"And hey, you've still got me," I added playfully, reaching over to place my thick, callused hand on his thigh. I gripped the steering wheel with the other hand, feeling the warmth radiating from him. It was clear he was blushing, and I couldn't help but smirk.
We pull into the driveway and stumble into the house. I pinned him up against the wall in multiple spots, and we shredded our clothes as we went. I was enjoying the virility of this body – I was strong before, but never like this.
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Tossing my former body onto the bed, I asked, “What do you want me to do to you.”
Looking up and biting his lip submissively, Mr. Sullivan asked, “You know the other day at the lab when I said, ‘you can do whatever you want with my body when you’re in it.’” I nodded. “I really meant anything,” he said.
After loosening him up with my fingers, I rolled on a condom and began to slide myself into my former body’s tight hole. It had been a while since I had taken anything this big, and I could feel the tightness around my new cock. Yet, something wasn’t cutting it.
After a few minutes of fucking, I growled “Daddy wants to feel all of you, I hope you like it raw,” growled before taking off the condom and sliding back in. The ecstasy was almost too much to handle and we climaxed together shortly thereafter.
The next morning, I woke up in bed, feeling the warmth of sunlight filtering through the blinds. Stretching and yawning, I rubbed my face, the rough texture of a beard grazing my palms. Glancing to the other side of the bed, I saw Mr. Sullivan in my body still peacefully asleep.
As great as last night was, a slight twinge of remorse tugged at my emotions. The idea of betraying Eric's trust weighed heavily on my conscience.
Deciding to focus on the present, I smiled softly before leaning over and gently kissing Mr. Sullivan on the cheek just like he had done at the swap labs before we had exchanged bodies. As Mr. Sullivan stirred awake, I greeted Mr. Sullivan with a warm smile.
"Good morning," I said, still getting used to a deeper voice. "Sleep well?"
Mr. Sullivan rubbed his eyes and sat up. "Yeah, surprisingly well. This body of yours is quite comfortable."
I chuckled, "Glad to hear it,” before diving back in to start round two.
A few months later
Over the course of the fall, Bryce (we’d begun to refer to each other using our former names) and I navigated the complexities of each other's. I was pretty successful in fighting my lonely streak, having met a lot of new friends at the gym and through my new local softball league.
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Meanwhile Bryce was also working out like crazy and had flourished in his artistic pursuits, getting admitted to an art fellowship program that he could do for the rest of his gap year.
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Hidden from prying eyes, our secret relationship also continued to thrive. Even though we didn’t tell Eric, he still clocked the positive change. A few weeks ago, during a Facetime call after a particularly enjoyable afternoon session with Bryce, he teased, "Wow, Dad, you're looking great. Honestly glowing... what … or who … have you been getting up to?" I laughed it off in the moment, but as time dragged on the weight of lying to Eric grew heavier on my conscience.
Finally, it was now the day before Thanksgiving break, meaning that Eric will be home tomorrow for the first time since we dropped him off. While Bryce had been up to visit him a couple of times, I still hadn’t seen him in person for months.
I invited Bryce over to the house, ready to figure out what to do. We laid together on the bed. I sat leaning against the headboard and some pillows and his head rested gently on my bare chest.  
"I gotta level with you, Bryce. I'm feeling really guilty,” I said, using my thick fingers to stroke Bryce’s torso through his halfway unbuttoned shirt. “I'm not sure I can keep up this lie to Eric much longer," I confessed.
Will, his expression thoughtful, suggested, "Well what if we just came clean to him now?"
"No, if we did that, I don't think he'd ever trust either of us ever again," I replied.
"We could swap back now," he proposed tentatively, a look of disappointment flickering across his face.
Pulling his lean body in closer to mine, I smirked. Nibbling on ear I said in a raspy whisper, "You wear that ass way better than I ever did, no way in hell am I going to make you give it up."
He looked at me, blushing, and I continued, "No, as much as it kills me, I think we need to end our relationship."
Will nodded, another look of disappointment flashing across his face before he replied, “Alright Will, if that’s what you really think is best.”
“But before we do, I need to feel my tight ass one last time,” I growled.
I got up and moved to his side before finishing unbuttoning his shirt. Then, gently running my hands from his torso around to his lower back, I motioned to take of his pants and briefs.
As I ate out his ass, I could feel my beard scratching against his smooth cheeks. Once he was loose, I got on my knees, raised his legs over my shoulders, and slid my raw cock into his tight hole.
After what feels like hours of fucking in every position imaginable, he’s finally riding on top.
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Throwing his head back in ecstasy at me he moans to himself, “Oh fuck yeah. Fuck yeah. This body is so fucking hot.” Feeling himself up, he continues, “This is all mine. I deserve this. I am such a fucking hot hunk.”
I look up at him, a twinge of nostalgic regret washes over me. But as quickly as that feeling arrives, Bryce looks down at me and says, “Oh yeah, and it’s all thanks to you Will.” A naughty smirk crossing his face he continues, “Tell me how much you want me.”
Picking up the pace of my upward strokes I grunt, “Fuck yeah Bryce, you’re so fucking hot.”
“Fuck right I am, say my name again” he yells back.
“Unghhh Bryyyyceeeee,” I moan. “Take that dick, Bryce,” I grunt, grabbing his cock.
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He leans over moaning, “Oh fuck yeah Daddy, I’m cumming” before kissing me and gently stroking my sensitive nipples.
That is enough to send me over the edge, coating his insides with my seed as we cum simultaneously.
Basking in the afterglow, I feel my meat still throbbing deep inside him.  “Well even if we can’t be together, I still hope we can do that every once in a while,” he said, continuing to feel up my sweaty, muscular torso.
Biting my lip, I reply, “I don’t see why not.”
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nonotnolan · 1 year
Text
Rookie Mistake
“Yeah, I realized the other day that, like... I’ve spent the last five Sunday afternoons, like, completely blacked out,” he said, rubbing his hands as he spoke.  Dave, our next door neighbor, was telling my mother why he didn’t host his normal Saturday night party yesterday.  I had to admit I was not expecting that answer.  “I didn’t even think I had been drinking that much, but like... why else would that happen, y’know?"
Well, I knew exactly why he had been blacked out the past five Sundays-- I’d been using the spellbook I found in the attic to slip into his smoking hot body.  Look at his chest, can you blame me?  Dude has shoulders for days.  I’d hop into his body when my mom and her husband went out on their date night, and then I would download Grindr to score a few casual hookups with some eager twinks.  Being home from college over the summer sucked, and Dave’s body helped make it suck less.  It was a victimless crime-- or so I had thought.  
Honestly, I hadn’t even thought about what Dave would remember whenever I hopped into his body.  Total rookie mistake, but it could have been a lot worse.  As long as I stayed out of his body, his blackouts would stop, and no one would be any the wiser.  Dave excused himself and went back inside his house, while Mom and I finished up bringing the groceries inside.  Hopefully I didn’t look too guilty.
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I took the spellbook down off my shelf, and pulled up Google translate again-- the damn thing was written in Latin.  The good news is that all of the spells were illustrated, so it was usually pretty clear what each spell would do.  The bad news is that a lot of the rules were written in small, cursive handwriting that the computer couldn’t read when photographed.  I was making decent headway translating word by word, but it was... tedious, to say the least.  Can you blame me for getting impatient?
The astral form spell I’d been using to possess Dave hadn’t said anything about memory loss, but I had also stopped translating after three paragraphs.  I’d already learned the important pieces, or so I had thought.  You can’t travel more than a quarter mile away from your body without risking permanent separation, your astral form could be blocked by wards or captured by soul snares, whatever the hell those were... and then the spell started talking about how it was really good for spying on your enemies.  Wouldn’t something like target memory loss be important enough to mention earlier?  I was livid, but it was ultimately my mistake for using a spell that I hadn’t fully translated.
I’d only made it through another half-paragraph before I got interrupted by a knock on my door.  “Sweetie, I just wanted to let you know that it’s just me going out tonight,” Mom said.  “Henry isn’t feeling well, so he’s going to stay behind and rest up, okay?  I know I don’t have to worry about you staying quiet for him while he sleeps.  See you tonight!”
I could scarcely maintain my excitement as I waited for the sound of my mother locking the front door.  Henry, my step-father, was a delicious otter of a man.  I hadn’t even considered the thought of taking over his body, but how could I resist an opportunity handed to me on such a silver platter?  And if he was planning on sleeping anyway, the memory loss issue didn’t matter!  Translating the rest of the spell could wait, I needed to seize this opportunity before it slipped away.  I made sure to clear off my bed, and position myself in a neutral posture before casting the spell-- the first time I used the spell and returned to my body, the crick in my neck took three days to fully heal.  Once my astral form had separated itself from my body, I flew as fast as I could to Henry’s sleeping form.
After all... just look at this man.  Henry is... he’s like gay candy.  Any time the three of us go out together, I don’t think he realizes how many skinny dudes can’t look away from him.  And for the next few hours, that would be me.  God, it was such a rush to think about that.  Can you blame me for getting excited?  Aside from the occasional dress pant, Henry never really wore anything that would display his bulge, so I wasn’t sure what sort of equipment I would be working with, but... now that it was in my hands, I was not disappointed.  So that was a ten minute detour.  I’m only human, after all.
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My next order of business was to take some raunchy selfies and send them to my phone for some, uhh... future me time.  The problem was that the only rooms in the house with good lighting were also the rooms where Mom had already redecorated Henry’s house with floral wallpaper.  Seeing that in the background was just a total boner kill.  I’d have to use my room for photos.  I try to avoid seeing my lifeless body whenever I can-- it’s kind of unsettling-- but in this case, it was worth the discomfort.
I figured Henry’s strength would be more than enough to carry my body down to the living room couch, only... when I opened my door, the bed was empty.  The pit of my stomach sank to the floor as I stared at the impression in my bed sheets, the only remaining sign that my body had previously been resting there.  I started taking deep breaths, running my hands across my new chest fur as I tried to calm down.  If the astral form spell was going to cause my body to disappear, it would have happened before today.  The first step was probably to search the rest of the house, just in case anything else had been displaced.
I found my body outside, shirtless, smoking a cigarette on the patio.  He had to have heard me-- I certainly wasn’t quiet as I flung upon the back door-- but he didn’t even bother to look up at me.
“Who are you, and what are you doing in my body?” I said, trying to puff out Henry’s chest for maximum intimidation.
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My body responded by blowing a cloud of smoke into my face.  “Get over yourself,” he said, taking another long drag.  “You grabbed my spellbook out of my attic, turned the next door neighbor into a meat suit, and now you have the gall to pretend that you’re the victim here?”
I tried to think of some sort of witty comeback, but my brain had completely frozen up.  “I... Henry?  Is that you in there?  What are you doing?”
“Watching you fall for the world’s most obvious trap,” he said, lording over me with a smug grin on his face.  He had me dead to rights, and we both knew it.  “Your mother hadn’t even finished pulling out of the driveway, and your horny ass was already trying to take over my body.  Good thing I had already started my own astral form before she left.  Mind you, I have ways of keeping unwanted spirits out of my body... but then we wouldn’t be having this delightful conversation, would we?
“Consider yourself busted,” he said, snuffing out the cigarette on the patio table.  “You’re going to spend the night here, pretending to be me while keeping to yourself under the guise of feeling sick.  I’m going to take your body out for a joyride tonight, same as you did to Dave.  We’ll switch back in the morning.  No funny business, or you’ll learn first hand why I no longer need to use a spellbook to cast magic.”
“Y-yes, sir,” I said, nodding my head.  Seeing Henry inside of my lanky body with his arms crossed, it looked catty rather than intimidating.  All the same, I was not about to try and mess with him any further.  Better to take the L here.  “Hey, uhh... after tonight’s punishment... do you... do you think you could teach me how to use that spellbook?”
Henry paused, sizing me up and down with his eyes before speaking.  “Me, teaching you?  After a rookie mistake like this?  Not on your life.”
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wolfiesmoon · 3 months
Text
Who is who again?
Riddle, Vil, Idia (seperately) x gn!reader
i was thinking and thinking and then i remembered that basic overdone fanfiction tropes do in fact exist, so here's a silly lil bodyswap fic for the soul
yuu is a little silly prankster goofster who likes messing around and trolling people in this fic, just saying in advance that i did inject a bit of personality in them
also i apologise if the fanfic becomes confusing to read at any point, it's kind of hard writing the reader's actions while in someone else's body, especially when interacting with the person you're swapped with haha
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‧₊˚✩彡 Riddle Rosehearts
"Okay, so you're tellin' me that you're Riddle, and you're the Prefect?" Cater pointed to each of you respectively, still trying to grasp the situation. Trey, Ace and Deuce seemed equaly stumped.
"Yep. I'm not exactly sure what happened, but I'm in Riddle's body now." you replied, shrugging casually. "You shouldn't have told them so early on, Riddle, I wanted to mess around a bit."
"Oh, now I'm very glad I told them so early. Knowing you, you'd cause far too much trouble for me to be able to uphold my reputation." Riddle shuddered, imagining the silly pranks you'd pull on everyone while in his body. Well, I suppose they wouldn't be very silly to him.
"Wait. If I'm in your body, does that..."
You quickly took out Riddle's magical pen and pointed it towards Ace, yelling out "Off with your head!"
To your surprise, it actually worked and Ace had a collar around his neck. So you can use magic now.
"HEY! Why did you do that!?" Ace called you out.
"It's revenge for stealing the bit of food I was saving for last on Friday. And also, I needed someone to test out whether I can use magic now." you smirked mischeviously at his annoyance. Now this is fun.
"This still feels unreal. I cannot believe I'm looking at myself talking to someone else. And fooling around like an idiot, too." Riddle did not seem amused.
"Listen, okay, I finally have magic now and I'm gonna take advantage of that. Which means you better run, Cater." you rubbed your hands together evilly.
"What?! Why me?!" Cater was not prepared for this attack.
"Too much magicam. Not enough reality. Collar needed." you explain like a robot overlord and point Riddle's magical pen at Cater.
"Now, now, let's not do that, okay?" Trey gently wrapped his hand around the magical pen in your outstretched hand, smiling at you.
You were about to shake his hand off and proceed with your collaring plan, but you got a better idea.
"No, no, you're right." you shook your head, lowering your hand. Cater breathed a sigh of relief.
"Since I'm Riddle and all, I have to uphold a perfect test score on every test." everyone looked at you, wondering where you were going with this.
"This might be an awkward time to mention that I haven't studied for tommorow's test at all."
"Oh, no. Absolutely not. You are coming with me." Riddle was not about to let his grades slip by such a wide margin. He'll make you memorise things until atleast a 90% is guaranteed, as much as he would hate to get one.
Originally, he was going to try and figure out how to switch you back as soon as possible but that'll have to wait after tommorow it seems.
"WAIT, CAN YOU LIKE, ATLEAST REMOVE THIS COLLAR BEFORE YOU LEAVE?!" Ace yelled behind you but you just whistled innocently, not paying attention to his despair.
.
"That's how the Queen's succesor managed to- are you even listening?"
"You know, it looks kind of funny when I'm being scolded by myself." you yawned, placing your chin on your arms which were currently crossed on the table.
"This is NO laughing matter. My grades are at stake here." Riddle scolded you some more. You nodded sleepily and he took that as a sign to continue.
"So as I was saying- What are you doing now?" Riddle followed your line of sight, his gaze falling on the mirror inside his room. You were looking at him?
"Woah... You're, like, actually pretty cute." you turned back to him, excited at your discovery.
"...What are you blabbering on about? This is NO time to be fooling around, as I have been telling you for the past- Wow, you really are hopeless." Riddle sighed, watching you examine his face in his mirror and still not listening to the magical history lesson.
It does not help at all that you made him lose composure with that "cute" comment.
"Your eyelashes are nice." You comment, smiling at your own reflection.
"What an oddly specific compliment." Still, Riddle felt all weird inside when you said that. This is not fair. Now he can't focus on teaching you anymore.
"It's not oddly specific, really. Guys have really great eyelashes sometimes." You batted your lashes at the mirror and then at him, trying to showcase his charm.
"That is... very strange. Please stop that." Riddle still felt weird about seeing his own face make such silly expressions.
"Hey, if I were in my own body right now I would be swooning over you. Just for your information." You rolled your eyes playfully, entirely insistant on getting out of studying by flustering the hell out of poor Riddle.
"Wha- That's it, off with your-" Riddle reached for the magical pen which would normally be in one's pocket, only to realise that you don't even own one. Of course.
"Oh, Riddle. You silly goose. I'm the one in power here." You intertwined your fingers like a supervillain.
"Please, let's just get back to studying." If Riddle were in his own body right now, his face would be red all over from embarrasment.
"If you insist." You sighed in feigned defeat, your mind already cooking up more plans to embarrass Riddle while you're in his body.
How very fun indeed.
"Why are you smiling at me like that? That kind of smile does not suit my face." Riddle seemed concerned about his body's fate.
"Hmmm, I wonder how many drinks I can order at the Mostro lounge in one sitting." You wondered aloud on purpose.
"What?!"
"What? I didn't even say anything this time." you faked your innocence.
This is going to be a nightmare for Riddle, isn't it?
‧₊˚✩彡 Vil Schoenheit
"Oh. My. God." you lightly slapped your cheeks while looking at yourself in the mirror to make sure this is reality.
Well, you suppose they aren't exactly your cheeks. You're currently inside Vil freaking Schoenheit's body and you have no idea how it happened.
You do suppose all logic kind of gets thrown out the window in a world where magic exists, so swapping bodies with someone might not be that outlandish. Now you wonder if you're the only one who this happened to, and what your body is up to.
Speaking of being Vil Schoenheit now, does that mean you have to uphold his insanely strict daily routine now?
Nah, who are you kidding? You're going to cause as much trouble as you can for this pretty boy. He wakes up much earlier than you thought, so you don't know what to do right now. You walk around his room, inspecting every corner for some prank ammunition.
Rook knocked on the door all of a sudden, telling Vil that he's worried since he's taking longer than usual. You let him into the room.
You decided that you're not going to tell anyone that you're actually not Vil and and act as him for as long as you possibly can.
"Oh, I was just... thinking about something." you grinned evilly at the mirror, before turning back to face Rook.
"Oh my, it seems you were so lost in thought that you've completely forgone doing your hair and makeup. Quite the unpleasant surprise. What troubles you so?" Rook seemed utterly hearbroken.
Wow, he's blunt sometimes. Not that you care about that right now.
"I was just thinking that I'll probably skip all that today. You know, going for a natural look." You twirled a piece of Vil's hair in your hand.
Rook tried convincing you otherwise but you shooed him out, not wanting to hear anything about how 'a natural look also involves doing subtle, light makeup'. You're on a mission here.
Speaking of, you just got a great idea.
You opened his Magicam after getting dressed, briefly gawking at the follower count before clicking on the 'new post' button.
You placed Vil's phone horizontally against your chest, taking an unflattering chin photo and posting it to magicam with the caption "#chinningtime😍😍😍😍", giggling like an idiot all the while.
Within a minute, your post has already gained about 2 thousand likes and loads of very confused (and amused) comments.
What great encouragement to post another one.
You placed the selfie camera of his phone close to your forehead, taking a forehead touch perspective pic. You added the caption "what my kitten sees😈💯🔥" and posted it.
You were laughing your ass off at all the comments when someone knocked at the door. "Roi du Poison, this is an intervention. I am very concerned about you."
Hahahaha, of course he would be one of the first people to worry about you.
Rook joined you once again in your room, explaining how concerned he is about your behavior this morning and how it's very unlike you. I mean, jeez, is Vil allergic to fun or something?
However, Rook wasn't the only one that had concerns with you, it seems.
"Would you care to explain what these are?" you were surprised to hear your own voice, turning your gaze back to the door where you were standing with a very displeased face, holding up your phone with the two selfies you took earlier. It feels dystopian to see yourself standing right in front of you. Out of body experience, for real.
"Wait. Before anything, just who are you?" you wanted to know just who was in your body, though you were already about 90% sure of it.
"Ah, Trickster. What brings you into Pomefiore?" Rook questioned internally how Vil doesn't recognise you.
"For your information, I am Vil. That other person next to you is not Vil. I'd assume you're the prefect, then?" he looked you with authority, leaving no room for stalling or avoiding his question.
"Yeah, yeah. You got me. But like, it's funny, right?" you shrugged, smiling goofily.
Vil dragged you off to the headmage's office, promising to explain things to Rook later and giving a firm scolding to you.
.
"Now that everything is finally sorted and we're excused from class for the day, would care to delete those... unflattering posts, please?" once the two of you were back in Vil's room, he immediately brought up that topic.
By now, they had to have gathered about 70k likes, right? Hehehehe.
"Do not smile at me like that. Or I will take back my phone and delete those horrid photos myself. Do you even realise what a PR nightmare this could be?" he placed his hands on his hips. You feel like you look completely different now that Vil's mannerisms are reflected on your own body. Body language really makes a man, huh?
"Oh, come onnnn, your fans love it. Everyone's laughing and saying how surprising it is to see you post something like this. See, they even got the hashtag #chinningtime trending!" you showed him pictures of his fans taking the same unflattering chin photos.
"What joy does someone derive from selfies as horrible as that? You made me look utterly horrible with those angles." You watched your own face contort with cringe. It's amusing how funny you look.
"People love silly things from time to time. For a celebrity as serious and professional as you, occasional silliness makes you look more relatable to your fans. A celebrity with a good sense of humor is the best kind in my opinion." you gave him a happy thumbs up. It was also for your own amusement, but you really don't feel like getting scolded even more than you have on your way back to the dorm.
"That is... the smartest thing I have ever heard come out of your mouth." He sighed, "I suppose it would cause people to talk about it even more if I deleted them now. But I am still not happy about them."
You ignored the jab at your intelligence, turning around to look at yourself in the mirror. "You know, Vil, you can let loose from time to time. Smile and goof around without worrying what someone might think." your eyes travelled down the sculpted jawline of your new reflection.
"In a way, you're right for suggesting that. But I'm not someone who enjoys your sense of humor or relaxed philosophy to begin with." he was right. He only jokes on occasion and his jokes aren't very goofy.
"You're right..." now that you technically are him, you can see first hand how much he cares about his body. His skin is soft and gleaming, his hair is healthy and shiny and his body is nice to move around in.
"You seem lost in thought. It's unlike you." you looked back at him through the mirror.
"I just thought about how admirable you are. Like, damn, I could nevaaa." Vil inferred you were talking about his strict daily routine. You seem different now. More quiet and thoughtful than usual. And he definitely didn't miss the pink dusting his cheeks on his own face through the mirror's reflection.
"Thank you." 'admirable' is a compliment slightly rarer than the usual ones talking about his beauty.
"By the way, your smile is beautiful. Not the one in all the movies, the one you don't consciously make." you closed your eyes, recalling that exact face of his. Too pretty for his own good, that man.
"Thank... you. You seem in a great mood to compliment me. Surely you don't think this will be enough to make up for the selfies, because it is not." at this point, even Vil didn't know what to think. The smile he doesn't consciously make, huh...
"Nah, those were just random ones I wanted to get off my mind. Oh, by the way, I don't know how to do your makeup look. Care to do it for me, pookie bear?" you sprung up from the chair at the vanity table, already getting excited about messing him up on purpose by opening your eyes when he tells you not to or moving your lips away from the lipstick, making it smudge.
You got way too sentimental for a moment there. And you're sure he noticed.
"Back to your regular self, I see. Fine, I will make myself look beautiful, as always." he smiled confidently. Though he himself has become curious about that side of you now.
Do you really think of him as a victim of your little pranks like everyone else, or are you hiding something else behind your silly smile?
‧₊˚✩彡 Idia Shroud
You were surprised to find a different voice calling out to you in the morning and telling you to wake up, one that sounded more cheerful, peppy, childlike.
And sure enough, it was Ortho's face that greeted you instead of your usual furry friend Grim.
As it turns out, you woke up in Idia's body this morning. What a lovely surprise.
You mean that both sarcastically and in the regular sense.
While you were explaining what was happening to a confused and worried Ortho, Idia's phone started buzzing somewhere in the bed. This dude sleeps with his phone inside his bed? Well, you suppose you have no time for judgement when the phone call might be important.
You rummage through his bed and eventually extract his phone. It was your number calling him.
When you pick up, you hear your own panicked voice on the other end. "U-Um, is this- Are you- How do..."
"Yes, I'm the Prefect. Looks like we switched bodies overnight." you inferred that he wanted to know who exactly just picked up the phone.
"How exactly do you think that happened? I mean, that's NOT normal." your voice on the other end seemed much calmer now.
"Hm, I have no clue, but I do know that I'm going to have loads of fun..." you grinned widely, catching a glimpse of yourself on Idia's dark phone screen and flinching slightly. You're definitely not going to get used to looking like someone else for a while. Especially if your new appearance is as unique as Idia's.
"What do you mean by that? Seriously, wha-" you ended the call before your voice could finish the sentence.
"Hehehehe... I bet he's panicking so hard right now." you giggled to yourself, still feeling a little weird about the fact that it's Idia's voice coming out of your mouth instead of your own.
"Brothe- No, Prefect. Who was that?" it was adorable how worried Ortho was over his brother. Or you, you suppose.
"Oh, don't worry your pretty little head about it..." you patted Ortho's head, hand moving over his flames with interest. "Go ahead and have fun, I'll be here if you need me." you gently shooed Ortho out of Idia's room to execute your master trolling plan.
You sat behind Idia's computer, booting it up. His computer works really fast, which isn't all that surprising considering his skills. He probably built the whole PC from scratch.
Surely, Idia won't mind if you play his games for a bit. You just want to see how far he's gotten. How many items he's saved up.
Hehehe.
You opened up one of the games you've been dabbling in yourself a bit, giggling to yourself about the random anime girl backround.
"Jeez, he's basically pro at this point." you went through his obtained characters and all the stats on most characters were maxed out.
But, since he still hasn't obtained the new character AND he has loads of gems in his inventory, he surely won't mind if you do the work for him, right?
You started pulling for characters in the gacha, waiting for the little indicator that you got a rare character. The flames of your hair flickered more and more with each pull, knowing you were getting closer.
Just when you got the pull animation you were looking for, the door to his room burst open and you saw yourself, all panicked and panting. Took him long enough, jeez.
"Oh, hi, me! I was just pulling for this character on your behalf, and-" you glance at the monitor "Looks like I won the fifty/fifty, hehe~" you acted cute and innocent.
"W-W-WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?! I didn't- I didn't want this character! I was saving up for the re-run, and- Agh!" Idia pushed you away from his keyboard, and he stared at the screen with pure horror in his eyes. You wonder what color his hair would be if he were in his body right now. But as it stands, his flames are flickering happily above your head at a succesful trolling attempt.
"Just buy more gems, bae. Money solves all your problems." you pat his head, kinda cringed out by the way your face can contort when it's making faces candidly. You really look like that when in despair, huh?
Idia ignored the way the casual pet name made him feel. He's supposed to be furious at you right now, not flustered.
"Noooooooo, this is the worst day of my life...." he hid his face in his hands.
"You know what, though? Look at the bright side! I get to figure out how your hair looks when it's wet. I doubt you'd do it yourself and I've been morbidly curious for a while." you patted his shoulder in an overly cheerful manner.
"Wha- Abso-freaking-lutely not. You're a weirdo of the third degree." he crossed his arms, still feeling a bit heartbroken over his videogames being tampered with.
"Is it that weird that I find your hair pretty?" you run your hand through his hair for the thousandth time this morning. It just feels so strange, yet nice under your fingers.
"Finding out if I become bald when my hair gets wet doesn't seem like something a hair admirer would do, but IDK, maybe my definition is different from yours." Idia shrugs, scowl still as big as ever.
"But really, I am an admirer. I kept looking at myself or, well, you in your phone camera this morning because your hair is just so pretty. Watching your hair fluctuate with your emotions is always a fun sight, too. Like damn, your hair is literally on fire, how cool is that?" you explain your thoughts, twirling a piece of his hair in your hand and smiling at it.
"If only I could cuddle up to you and use you like a heater. Too bad your hair's just a normal temperature." Idia's heart almost exploded at the mental image that formed in his head when you said that. And it was even worse because it was coming out of his own mouth.
"T-This is not okay... You can't do this to me...!" he mumbled, not meeting your eyes.
You don't get it, you just dealt 99999 damage to his falling-in-love-resistance shield. Just how do you manage to do that?
"Actually, now that I can look at it up close as much as I want, your face is like, really well proportioned too. Like..." you bit your lip as a joke, wanting to look overly flirty. "That's all I'm gonna say."
Okay, now you've done it. He might just pass out, right now.
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scoobydoodean · 5 months
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what is your opinion on people calling dean a heavy misogynist? i don’t agree personally but i feel like you could put my thoughts into better words
First, I have to chuckle a little at "heavy misogynist". Apparently, some people have begun to realize their fave is also guilty of misogyny crimes therefore they focus on making sure all of us know Sam is a light misogynist and Dean is a heavy misogynist. I just find that amusing.
This is a broad topic in a long show, so I won't endeavor to address every conceivable incidence of misogyny in the show I can think of. Instead, I'm going to create a few headings, at least one of which I think most criticism falls under.
Misogyny through the writing team
How Sam's misogyny gets a pass
Purity culture wank and Dean performing for Sam
How Dean actually treats women
Misogyny Through The Writing Team
First, Supernatural in of itself has issues with misogyny—as in, the writers of the show (including female writers) have issues with misogyny which they are happy to put on display semi-frequently. The show started in 2005, during a period of time where casual sexism was absolutely rampant on TV and no one thought anything about it. Female celebrities were regularly mocked and dragged on cable television in a way men simply weren't. They were called bitches and skanks and whores, and even "progressive" voices were inundated with casual misogyny and a fixation on purity culture (that largely applied to women only). Quite simply, I think fandom tends to be far too generous toward the writers, assuming certain things were "flaws" the writers intentionally wrote for the characters.
Put another way, there are some criticisms I prefer to level at the writing team rather than the characters, because what is written plainly reflects their ignorance in the real world rather than any intent to give Sam or Dean or any other character meaningful flaws—much less outright terrible ones that greatly harm their image. I'll give a few examples:
2.17 "Heart" makes me very uncomfortable as I sit here in 2024 and observe how Sam and Madison's romance develops. Me feeling that way does not mean the authorial intent of 2007 Sera Gamble was that I think to myself, "Man Sam comes off as uncomfortably rapey here." Hopelessly bad with women, perhaps—but not creepy.
In season 2, the writers begin to develop a running “joke” that Sam is afraid of not just clowns but also little people. The latter “joke” is (wisely) dropped fairly quickly. I have never criticized Sam for being afraid of little people, and I never will. It is readily apparent to me that this running "joke" reflects the ignorance of the writing team rather than an intent to give Sam meaningful or interesting flaws. Their intent was to use little people as the butt of a joke. I personally find this "joke" distasteful, and the idea of trying to take that and somehow "dunk" on Sam for the bigotry of the writers is more distasteful to me.
This is also how I feel about the running "joke" of a porn magazine and website (BAB) that solely features Asian women, that is put on display on multiple occasions during the show—first in 2.15 "Tall Tales", where the context is Gabriel infecting Sam's laptop with a virus from the website and making him believe Dean is responsible. BAB continues to make "Easter Egg" appearances in the show afterward. While often associated with Dean by fandom, the writers clearly think of BAB as a general, "funny" (it isn't), running gag with no more depth than "haha men like porn funny". An issue is stolen by a sentient teddy bear in 4.08 "Wishful Thinking". An issue is owned by the teenager who swapped bodies with Sam in 5.12 "Swap Meat". The Men of Letters also collected a considerable number of issues (8.17). I simply do not believe the writers thought for a single moment about BAB being a grossly racist gag. They most certainly did not write it as an intentional criticism of Dean from that perspective. It reflects nothing but their ignorance and racism here in the real world, and absolutely SHOULD be criticized from that REAL WORLD impact.
How Sam's misogyny largely gets a pass
One of the things I have not been able to stop noticing on this rewatch is Sam's issues with misogyny, and how often Sam's misogyny comes out in conflicts with Dean... starting from the very first episode of the show. Pretty much any time you get anything that feels like it might be a misogynist Dean or horn dog Dean moment... Sam either just has or is about to follow that up with some misogyny of his own.
In 1.01, right after entering Sam's apartment and meeting Jess, Dean mentions the Smurfs on Jess's shirt. We think to ourselves "Okay. A little misogynist... a little horn-dog Dean." Sam is happy to 1-Up that in two ways. First, Jess voices her intentions to go get dressed. Dean dismisses this, but while doing so, makes it clear he intends to leave the room with Sam, as he'd like to have a private conversation with Sam anyway. Sam objects, walking over to Jess and putting an arm around her, demanding Dean say whatever he needs to say right then and there. Maybe this would feel supportive if Jess wasn't in her underwear and hadn't just made it clear that now that the panic over a possible break-in is over, she'd really like to not be in her underwear in front of a stranger. But nope. By god she needs to stand there so Sam can prove a point about misogynist Dean! Second, Sam immediately (and I think quite erroneously) jumps to imply Dean is trying to cut Jess out of the conversation because she's... a woman? Or... something? He makes a big show of moving over Jess and standing beside her, saying anything Dean has to say, he can say in front of Jess. However, the moment Sam actually understands that Dean is here because John is missing on a hunting trip, he dismisses Jess to speak to Dean alone... because he's lying to her. By painting Dean erroneously with this "The men are talking" bullshit that had nothing to do with anything, Sam sets himself up to be viewed as a misogynist by his own framing of the situation and what it means to leave Jess out of a discussion. He also reveals his own alleged principles as a performative illusion. Despite being his intended life partner, Sam never intends to tell the woman he loves about his past as a hunter (he makes this clear later on the bridge). However, I think because Sam's actions usually co-occur with what gets called out more directly or more immediately recognized as misogyny from Dean (should have gotten him for the Smurf's comment, Sam!) Sam's misogyny often flies under the radar... and he's really... pretty bad.
I spoke here at length about how Sam tends to look down on women who interact with Dean (often before meeting them). There is absolutely an intersection with purity culture here and there's discussion in that thread about that as well, and whether this is a "2000s writers" issue or intentionally written flaws.
In 1.06, Sam cuts Dean off before Dean can accept an offered beer from Rebecca, but then as soon as Sam needs Rebecca out of the room, Sam asks her to not just bring them those beers... but also fix them sandwiches. Rebecca says, "What do you think this is, Hooters?" and Dean mumbles, "I wish" and we somehow lose sight of the fact that Sam literally just asked a woman to make him sandwiches which is possibly the number one misogynist man trope. Sam vaguely suggests Dean is a misogynist in 1.19 for nudging Sam to go on a date with Sarah Blake and possibly get information on the case, because that would be "using" her, but Sam wants to "use" Meg Masters in 1.22 and he wants to "use" Ruby to get what he wants, and when he said getting information from women was "Dean's job", he was also showing he was perfectly willing to use Dean and Sarah—he just doesn't want to get his hands dirty. It also comes to light in 1.19 that this is more about Sam's belief that he has to protect women from him, and Sarah herself ends up calling Sam antiquated for it.
I mentioned before that Sam doesn't plan to ever tell Jess who he is, and he makes the same plans with Amelia. Dean, meanwhile, confides in Cassie (it's what leads to their breakup) as well as Lisa.
I also have to mention... one of the funniest things I see deancrit samgirls in particular dig at time after time after time is Dean calling women "bitches". Never mind that Sam also calls women like Ruby and Bela bitches and calls a woman a bitch in front of Madison. Apparently none of these occurrences count because... *looks at notes* reasons. "Bitch" only counts as misogyny when it's Dean saying it. Also, let's not mention that Sam exclusively uses the word "bitch" to refer to women, while Dean also calls men and creatures bitches at different points so it isn't a gender specific insult for him.
Dean is definitely the "heavy" misogynist here... right? (I guess Sam is a "tall" misogynist instead).
Purity culture wank and Dean performing for Sam
Dean is commonly treated in fandom as if he's some kind of sex pest, and quite blatantly... he isn't one. Women almost always proposition Dean first (thejabberwock has sets on this here and here), but him asking people out also isn't inherently creepy in any way? Co-occurring with Sam's purity culture inundated judgements, we often see fandom's own as well, where Dean is some kind of sex pest because he... likes women? Or... because he has sex with consenting women who also want to have sex with him? Sometimes it's giving purity culture wank, sometimes it's given big radfem energy... but regardless, I sometimes see people talk about Dean like him so much as making eye contact with a woman is a violent sexual threat, and that's just laughable—as is denying the agency and autonomy of consenting women in general.
Even though it doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, I'll also add that Dean... doesn't even actually have sex with the frequency that people talk about it? Dean has sex with Cassie—who was a long term partner of his in 1.13. He has sex with an actress in 2.18, and with Doublemint twins in 3.01. He has sex with a waitress 4.05. He plans to have sex with someone in 3.04, but turns her down when he realizes she's a prostitute who's working. This happens again in 10.07. I'm on season 4 of my rewatch and haven't been formally keeping up... but Dean is not actually having a lot of sex? We get implications he's been out partying a few times, and can maybe infer he scored, but we don't actually know.
I'm not a huge fan of performing Dean, in the sense that I think over the years I have seen it wildly overstated far too many times. But I do think Dean sometimes plays a character for Sam especially. Dean tells us this himself in 2.03 "Bloodlust" when confiding in Gordon. He never says so directly when it comes to the sexy sex guy doing sex persona, but his actions reveal him. One can think of plenty of examples of Dean saying horny stuff about women to Sam... but what about his actions?
How Dean actually treats women
Finally, there's how Dean actually treats women... and one would be very hard pressed to prove to me that Dean is sexist toward the women in his life. He's been close friends with multiple women and worked with women on hunts on multiple occasions and never once batted an eye. Jo in 2.06 is sometimes floated as an example, but it's actually discussed within the episode. Dean makes it very clear that he thinks women can do the job just fine. What he has a problem with is Jo's lack of experience and her romanticization of the job (especially during a period where Dean has fallen deeply out of love with the job himself). Everything we see as the series progresses supports Dean's assertion as truth. He's very good friends with Charlie, Jody, and Donna and doesn't go around excluding them on hunts while favoring men. That is not a thing that happens. While he initially tries to talk Claire out of the life (as he does everybody—this is not unique to women—see Adam for example) when she decides to hunt, he supports her regardless. There is nothing uniquely overprotective about how Dean treats women who hunt. End of. Dean has no illusions about traditional gender roles or any of that nonsense, jumping to clean dishes after dinner at Jody's and cooking breakfast for Lisa and Ben. (Our knowledge of Dean and the chores he does for his family already tell us this—but regardless). Even Demon Dean, an entity with no love for anyone and close to zero principles, targeted men who abuse and threaten women, and when Crowley ordered him to kill Lester's wife to fulfill the terms of Lester's demon deal, Demon Dean instead became so deeply annoyed with Lester's hypocrisy (he cheated on his wife first) and his assertion that it's different when men cheat, that he killed him and smiled while doing it.
So anyway, nope—I don't think Dean is a "heavy" misogynist.
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okaylikesmomo · 9 months
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Exchange Part 2: Flower
Another 10k+ words, smut, male reader, PART ONE HERE
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“They approved the request, but now you get a choice,” the bodyguard said, turning directly to you. “After you’re done with Miss Jennie, you can choose to also take a turn with Miss Jisoo.”
“That wasn’t the deal!” Jennie shouted back. “We said he fucks me instead of her.”
“I’m sorry Miss Jennie, I’m just the messenger.”
“Then take this message back and tell them to go fu-”
“I won’t take a turn with Jisoo,” you cut her off. “Just with Jennie, and then we’re done.”
Jennie’s entire demeanor swapped as she glanced at you, full of silent appreciation. The bodyguard, on the other hand, was much less understanding.
“You’re passing up the opportunity to be with Miss Jisoo?” he asked, mouth hanging open in shock. “You do also realize you’d be guaranteeing a promotion if you did it, right?”
“I do.”
“Then how can you possibly turn this down?”
“You said it was my decision, I have decided against it,” you said firmly. “Can we proceed?”
“My God even if you don’t find her attractive, at least do it for the job,” the bodyguard said while shaking his head. “Alright, it’s your choice, go and get acquainted while I grab the guys.”
Both you and Jennie returned to the room where you found Jisoo holding the letter from earlier, her knuckles white.
“There’s a live audience, too?” she asked, voice full of despair.
“It’s fine, they approved the request,” Jennie replied, taking off her coat again, leaving her completely nude yet again. “I’ll be the one doing most of it.”
“Most of it?” Jisoo repeated.
“They approved the request, but you still need to participate just a little bit,” you explained, taking a seat next to her. “We can talk about limits before they come.”
“You just have to sit there and look pretty, it’s the same as part one,” Jennie said while checking out her ass in the mirror. “You slapped me so fucking hard, it’s all red now.”
“Jisoo, are you okay with stripping all the way?” you asked, ignoring Jennie.
She nodded, her cheeks unable to hide the rosy tint that appeared.
“And are you okay with Jennie touching you in front of them?”
Another nod.
“I’ll try to avoid it, but are you okay with me touching you in front of everyone?” you asked hesitantly. “They might request it.”
This time she hesitated for a short second before nodding, her cheeks bright red.
“I’m fine with it,” she muttered quietly, avoiding your eye contact.
“Great, now that we got that out of the way,” Jennie said casually while walking over to you. “Show me your cock.”
“You getting withdrawal symptoms or something?” you asked sarcastically.
“Let’s get one thing clear,” Jennie snarled. “I’m still in charge here.”
“Well if the little slut wants to see my cock, she can come take a look,” you gestured towards your crotch, leaning back on your hands. “Show me how in charge you are as you suck my dick.”
She wanted to argue, but for some reason Jennie held her tongue and leaned forward. Without any attempt to make it sexy, she yanked down your pants, revealing your cock. You helped her out by taking off your shirt, joining her in her nudity.
“There’s just one of us left,” Jennie mentioned casually, her eyes locked on your cock.
Jisoo stood up from the bed, facing away from you, and reached behind her back. She undid the strap of her bra, letting it fall to the ground, before bending over at her waist and lowering her purple panties.
“How about you look at me for once,” Jennie clicked her tongue, arms crossed as she stood there looking at you with all the sass in the world.
“Come here and stop covering up your tits then,” you replied, standing up from the bed and moving Jennie’s arms away. “So, tell me, what are your boundaries?”
“I’m-”
You slapped her across the face, not particularly hard, but it was loud.
“I don’t really care,” you said coldly before wrapping an arm around her body and grabbing her ass. “Girl like you probably doesn’t care what happens to her anyway,” you continued before tossing her on the bed like a ragdoll.
“Dick!” Jennie shouted at you as you walked up to Jisoo who was shyly covering up.
“I mean it when I say it,” you said softly, carefully prying her arms away from her chest. “You’re beautiful.”
Jisoo looked to the side, still being shy as she showed you her chest. Her hands began trying to cover between her legs, but you encouraged her to stop hiding by holding her wrists.
“You have nothing to be shy about,” you said reassuringly while placing your hands on her breasts before gesturing towards her crotch. “May I?”
She nodded at you, and the two of you locked eyes. You gave her a quick kiss before slowly crouching down in front of her, getting on your knees. Your eyes never left hers, even as you carefully moved your mouth between her legs.
A sharp gasp escaped her lips as you pressed your mouth against her pussy. You gently stuck your tongue out, licking up and down her slit, tasting her delicious body. She looked so pristine between the legs, the most visually appealing pussy ever, and her taste matched. She was irresistible.
Unfortunately, you would have to cut the fun short as there was a knock on the door. You stood back up, wiping Jisoo’s mess off your chin, the two of you smiling at each other. Over her shoulder, you could see Jennie on the bed touching herself - she even looked a bit jealous.
“Are you going to get that, little slut?” you asked Jennie.
Again, she looked pissed, but perhaps she didn’t want to annoy Jisoo because she got off the bed and walked to the door. While she left, you gave Jisoo one last hug to ease her nerves before taking a few steps away.
When Jennie returned, she had about six or seven men following her. They barely even noticed you at first, all of them fixated on Jennie’s swaying ass as she walked in. One of them was holding a camera.
“Rules are simple,” Jennie explained as the men made a line by the wall. “You guys get to watch our little fun here. Touch yourselves, moan, do whatever, but you’re only watching.”
“Will Miss Jisoo be getting fucked?” one of the men who was very focused on Jisoo asked.
“No, not tonight,” Jennie replied, glancing at Jisoo who looked slightly uncomfortable.
“Does she want to get fucked?”
A few of the men laughed before immediately going silent under Jennie’s gaze.
“Let me remind you, this is a privilege for you guys,” Jennie hissed. “If any of you disrespect Jisoo, you’ll be handing out resumes. Understood?”
There was a collective nod through the line before Jennie walked over to you. She gestured for the camera man to move a little closer as she took your cock in her hand and started stroking you.
“As hard as you want,” she whispered into your ear so the rest of the room couldn’t hear. “No limits, blink is the safeword.”
After taking a deep breath, you pushed Jennie down to the floor until she was on her knees in front of you. As soon as you slipped your cock into her mouth, a few of the men began lowering their pants. You decided to ignore the spectators, including the cameraman, and instead you focused on the girl sucking your cock.
She really gave you no reason to complain. The way she worked her tongue around your cock felt amazing, and she had no difficulty throating your whole length. Even with your cock threatening to slip down her throat, she managed to keep working her tongue. She honestly looked stunning with a cock in her mouth, but she wasn’t the only girl in the room.
You gave Jennie a little pat on the cheek before grabbing her hand and walking her over to the bed. Jisoo, who was standing there watching, followed your instructions and lay down in the middle of the bed, her legs spread wide. Jennie crawled onto the bed, without even needing your guidance, and began eating her out.
At this point you noticed in your periphery that most of the men had their cocks out. Ignoring them again, you joined the two girls on the bed, getting right up behind Jennie’s lifted ass. You seamlessly entered her pussy, noticing very little difficulty, as if her pussy was created to accept cock.
The view was to die for. Jisoo was laying there with her eyes closed in pleasure, her hands absentmindedly groping her own tits, Jennie’s fit body eclipsing Jisoo’s pussy, her head moving around between Jisoo’s legs. Then there was Jennie’s perfectly heart-shaped ass, and between her shapely cheeks your cock disappeared over and over.
Her pussy hugged you snugly, it wasn’t the tightest, but it offered just the right amount of pressure. It was easy, jamming yourself into her, and you found her meaty pussy had a beautiful grip on your shaft, begging for you to stay inside.
She was wet, soaked actually. Her pussy, warmed by her body, was borderline slippery; It felt like you had dumped a whole bottle of lube on your cock as you slid back and forth. That’s not to say she didn’t feel amazing, though, in fact she felt fucking phenomenal. You didn’t plan on telling her this, of course, but her pussy was perfect.
Not only was Jennie’s pussy designed to be fucked, apparently her mouth was designed to eat out Jisoo. You turned your attention to the pleasure-stricken girl who was squeezing one tit hard, the softness flowing between her fingers, while her other hand was holding the back of Jennie’s head. Jisoo had her eyes shut tight, mouth wide open, head tilted back, chin up. No sounds came out, and the room was silent outside of the rhythmic slapping of your thighs on Jennie’s ass.
After fucking her pussy for a bit, you started to feel her body start contracting. It happened pretty quickly, you weren’t ready for it when her pussy suddenly clamped down on your cock. A scream filled the room, a singular curse, one that made the row of men speed up as Jennie’s body shot up, flashing the spectators.
Her ass pressed hard against your body, squishing the soft cheeks against your thighs. You tried to fuck her some more, but it was futile, her pussy was overwhelmed to the point where you couldn’t even move. What was once as easy as tying your shoes now became impossible with how tight she was.
Your hands reached around her body, relishing in the soft mounds she was sticking out for the whole room to see. Her fit body was beautifully curved, her figure dripping of sex appeal. Even though you couldn’t see it, your hands became your eyes as you mapped out her body, finally realizing how fucking nice it was. She should probably consider modeling, if she could ever take a break from getting dicked.
Apparently a break is exactly what she needed right now as she fell forward onto the bed, squeezing every nerve in your cock as she pulled out. Her whole body was trembling still, but you weren’t going to give her a break. Her body looked too good, after all, you were still being gentle.
Jisoo crawled over on the bed next to you, almost waiting for your next move. She didn’t have to wait long, as you grabbed Jennie by her hips and rolled her onto her back. You spread her legs wide, ignoring her blissful state of relaxation, and rubbed your finger up and down her pussy.
It only took a few flicks of your fingers for her to leave a noticeable wet spot on the bed beneath her. You had to catch yourself before you started drooling while you debated plunging your face into her wet pussy.
Ultimately, the tension built up in your cock prevailed, and you crawled between Jennie’s legs. You raised her legs up, holding them against your waist, lining your throbbing cock up with her pussy. You were also soaked at this point, your cock was shining just as much as Jennie’s pussy, and once again you entered her with almost no resistance.
“Fuuuuuck,” she moaned out, finally recovering enough to be sentient.
Next to you, Jisoo was carefully watching as you started to fuck Jennie again. She was so beautiful, deep down you wished you accepted the offer to take her as well, but you shot that idea away and focused on Jennie’s pussy - an easy task. You gave Jisoo a light pat on her butt, gesturing towards Jennie’s face.
Luckily, she understood the suggestion. Jisoo carefully straddled Jennie’s face, her ass pointed towards the audience while she looked into your eyes. She lowered her body until her pussy pressed up against Jennie’s mouth and started grinding her hips gently back and forth.
Joining along with her pace, you once again started thrusting your hips into Jennie’s pussy while holding her legs up against your hips. You matched Jisoo’s movements to the best of your ability, but admittedly it was getting difficult as you could feel yourself getting close.
Your body started to move of its own accord, you were losing control. Jennie’s pussy was calling to you, even though she was just laying there with Jisoo sitting on her face, you felt like she was the one forcing you to fuck her. In a way, she was, why did her pussy have to feel so good?
The race was lost, however, as Jisoo began to moan. The shy girl was now moaning unabashedly, shamelessly in front of the entire room, not caring about anything other than her orgasm. First she fell forward, her hands landing next to Jennie’s body, her tits hanging down beautifully in front of you. Then with a spasm she shot backwards, all the way off Jennie’s face and onto her back on the bed.
Jisoo's orgasm caused something deep within of you to awaken. As you dove deep into Jennie's pussy, your steady tempo was abruptly replaced with a brutally harsh, ferocious fucking. Jennie turned into your fucktoy, serving only as a gaping hole for your cock. Her tits started shaking frantically and jumping up and down.
At this point, Jennie was out of her mind. Nothing coming out of her mouth made any sense, not that you would have cared what she was saying. You knew you were about to cum hard, and Jennie’s wellbeing was not your concern, the only thing that concerned you was how wet her pussy was.
Jisoo watched patiently, her fingers gently rubbing her own pussy as she recovered from the orgasm. Her face was completely flushed, her skin sporting a thin layer of sweat.
“I’m about to cum,” you grunted, leaning forward, letting go of Jennie’s legs and grabbing her tits.
“Cum on Jisoo!” one of the executives suggested.
“Cum on her pussy!” another one shouted.
There was no real choice as a few of the others agreed, showing their support for the idea. You slammed into Jennie a couple more times, getting yourself right on the edge, before withdrawing and pushing her to the side carelessly.
Jisoo stared directly into your eyes, sadness deep in her pupils, yet she understood. Almost as if your cock was waiting for permission, Jisoo’s subtle nod set it off. Streaks of cum began spraying on her lips, coating her folds in the white mess. The spectators were pleased, thankfully, cheering you on as your mess landed all over Jisoo’s most private area.
Panting heavily, you rubbed your tip against her thigh, wiping off any remaining cum. As you admired Jisoo’s coated pussy, an idea came to you. Next to you on the bed, Jennie was gasping for breath, at least she was until her gasps were replaced by a shriek as you pulled her up by her hair. You pressed Jennie’s face into Jisoo’s pussy, holding the back of her head, preventing her from even considering moving away.
“Lap it up you little cum slut, this is the only way you’re getting any,” you whispered into her ear, pushing her face harder. “Not until you show me you deserve it straight from my cock.”
It almost seemed to encourage her, as Jennie was now shoving her face deep into Jisoo’s pussy without any assistance from your hand. With Jennie happily cleaning your cum up, you took the short break to lean next to Jisoo.
“Are you alright?” you whispered, watching as the audience was completely preoccupied by Jennie’s slurping.
“I’m fine,” she whispered back, using her hand to guide Jennie’s face between her legs. “Go again, then end with my face.”
The audience was becoming quite rowdy, chanting and cheering for Jennie. Degrading her in a sense, while praising Jisoo. Some of them showing their jealousy, pushing boundaries that Jennie probably wouldn’t approve of - that is if she could hear them. Jennie was clearly in her own world, sucking every drop of your cum possible off Jisoo’s pussy.
Ignoring the chants, you yanked Jennie by her hair and tossed her to the floor in front of the row of executives.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” she screamed, glaring at you in a way that implied she wanted to rip your head off, and you almost thought she would.
Her anger was met with a swift slap across the face, enough force to make her turn all the way around. You almost felt bad, seeing her holding her hand to her cheek, on her knees, fully nude in front of all these men - almost.
From behind, you could see Jennie’s pussy dripping with anticipation - literally. She wasted no time getting into position, hands and knees, like she was born for this one purpose alone. It made it easier for you as you walked up behind her, admiring her from behind, when suddenly you had a change of plans.
A blood-curdling scream escaped Jennie’s lips as you shoved yourself balls deep into her asshole. Her body immediately spasmed as she lunged away from you, immediately pulling away from your cock.
“A bit of a warning would have been nice, dickhead!” she screamed, rubbing her asshole.
Ignoring her rage, you casually walked up to her until your cock was right in front of her. You rubbed your cock all over her face, much to her displeasure, teasing her, making her scrunch her face up in disgust.
“Where’d I put my cock?”
“Fuck off,” she spat, trying to bat your arm away while you kept rubbing her face all over.
“Where’d I put my cock?” you asked again, this time accompanied by a tug of her hair.
She glared at you, wanting to argue more, but she was aware of your grip on her scalp and didn’t dare test you again.
“In my ass,” she mumbled.
“What was that?” you ridiculed her, slapping her cheek with your cock.
“In my ass,” she repeated more clearly, trying to ignore your humiliation.
“That’s right,” you yanked her hair enough to not really cause much pain, but just to remind her. You started rubbing your cock against her pursed lips, enjoying the visual of her trying to refuse entry. “And that’s where it’s going again, right after it goes down your throat.”
“I’m not- letting you-” she fought with your cock until she finally opened her lips just enough for you to start entering.
“Wider little slut, stop pretending you’d pass on this,” you mocked her with her own words.
Jennie’s angry gaze never dropped, even as she opened her mouth wide for your cock to the amusement of your audience. You thrust your hips deep into her, stepping forward as you did until she was practically laying down on the floor, with just her face being held up by her hair. Her slobber began flowing down her chin, pooling on her chest as you pushed down her throat a few times, pressing her nose against your body.
“Now turn around,” you spat after letting go of her head, letting her fall entirely onto her back, gasping and choking for breath. “My cock is craving your little asshole.”
She turned around, rather enthusiastically, until she was on her hands and knees in front of the audience yet again. This time, she was prepared, and she reached back with both hands to spread her cheeks as you stepped behind her, sliding your cock up and down her crack.
However, instead of thrusting right in, you decided to toy with her some more. You held the idea right in front of her face, poking at her asshole with your cock but delaying the entrance. Her skin was starting to stretch more as her hands pulled harder, spreading herself as much as she could for you.
Then you went in, with just the tip, earning a satisfied little moan. That was until you immediately pulled back out. Jennie immediately looked back over her shoulder, even angrier now that you were refusing to fuck her ass than she was when you shoved it in without warning.
She opened her mouth to complain, but she promptly reconsidered as you put your tip back into her tight asshole. She knew that you had all the control and she couldn’t do anything about it.
“Do you want your asshole fucked, little slut?”
There was no right answer, and she knew it, so she stayed silent as you pushed a little bit deeper than your tip.
“Do you?” you asked again, pushing even deeper.
Jennie let go of her ass cheeks, bringing both arms forward to support her body as she dipped her head.
“No? Alright,” you teased some more, pulling back until only your tip was inside.
“Please!” she screamed. “Just fuck me already.”
Time for teasing was over, and in one singular movement you inserted your cock all the way into her asshole. She screamed again - not that you cared - and you began ramming her asshole with as much force as you could muster. It was no easy task, her asshole was tight.
“Oh fuck!” she cried out as you began spanking her ass. “Oh fuck oh fuck!”
Her vocabulary diminished tremendously, and soon nothing but various profanities escaped her lips. The waves rippling up her body each time you slammed into her tight little ass were beautiful; Jennie took dick like an expert, knowing just how to make it look good.
She had her back arched just enough to where her ass was clearly visible to all the men, and you knew even though you couldn’t see them that her tits were hanging and swinging beautifully for everyone to see. Without slowing down the brutal pace of Jennie’s assfucking, you bent over her body and reached an arm around her chest.
It’s not like she had the biggest tits ever, but they were an amazing handful. So soft, so jiggly, fighting to escape your grip as her entire body was shaking with each thrust of your hips. You placed her nipple between your fingers, squeezing it as hard as her tight asshole was squeezing your cock.
Whether or not she noticed wasn’t very clear - her moans and screams were incessant either way. Your grunts were being completely masked by the loud slaps of skin on skin and Jennie’s harmonious cries of pleasure.
Jennie’s tight asshole had your cock ready to explode again. Even after everything tonight, just a few minutes in Jennie’s ass was all it took, but who could blame you? You were starting to understand why everyone was going crazy for this girl, her asshole felt so fucking good.
That didn’t make her any less of a cock slut, though. Not only was she taking your thrusting, she was also pushing herself back onto your body each time. Even if you stopped moving your hips, not that you physically had it in you to stop, she would still be fucking herself on you.
Unfortunately for Jennie - and fortunately for you - her asshole had brought you to completion already. Her tight squeeze was too much for you, and at this point after all the action tonight your cock was getting painfully sensitive; After one final thrust with all of your strength, you pulled out of her asshole.
She let out a disappointed moan the second your cock left her body - this girl was impossible to satisfy apparently. You gave her ass one last farewell slap before walking over to Jisoo, who had been touching herself while watching you plow Jennie, you could have sworn there was a hint of envy in her face.
As you got in front of Jisoo, you silently mouthed “I’m sorry” to which she simply replied by grabbing your cock, forcing your hand away. She began to stroke you, pointing your cock directly at her face. Her cute little tongue even poked out as she opened her mouth, ready for you, ready to accept you.
She stroked you fast and hard, not wanting to delay this final act of the show. Right in front of the row of men, you angled her slightly to give them the best view - if you were going to do this, might as well do it right. You placed one hand on the back of Jisoo’s head for support, your cock nearing yet another orgasm to the sound of Jisoo’s hand.
“Jisoo,” you grunted, one final word before you painted her face for the second time that night. Her beauty must have something to do with it, or perhaps Jennie’s tight asshole was the culprit, but despite blowing multiple loads tonight, you still somehow had enough in the tank to cover her face thoroughly.
Streak after streak of cum landed directly in the middle of her face, lines going up from her lips to her forehead. With the help of your hand, which you wrapped around Jisoo’s, you let the subsequent pumps land on her cheek. After Jisoo’s face was yet again coated in a fresh layer of cum, you let go of her head, letting her turn to the row of men watching and strike a few poses.
As they took their final mental pictures of the aftermath, you collapsed backwards, sitting on the edge of the bed trying to catch your breath - this ordeal became more of a workout than expected. Next to you, balled up on the floor with a hand between her legs, was Jennie, whimpering softly.
“Hey, you alright?” you whispered, holding a hand out to her.
She looked up at you, mascara dripping down her face, before accepting your hand. You pulled her up, sitting her on the edge of the bed with you.
“No one tonight,” she mumbled, “not a single person has fucked me the way you did.”
It was a coin-toss between sorry and you’re welcome, but in the end you went with “you’re welcome”.
“Seriously,” she moaned, leaning over slightly onto you as if to show you how sore her ass was right now. “They used to, but these last few years everyone has been too scared.”
“It helps that I don’t know who you are,” you replied, reaching a hand around her and grabbing her ass. “I’ll give you credit though, you take dick pretty well.”
“I’m sure you’ll find out by next year, but make me one promise,” Jennie replied. “If you do end up coming again, treat me exactly like you did tonight.”
“My God, you really are just a little slut aren’t you?” you asked while giving her ass a hard slap. “You just can’t get enough of it.” you continued as you grabbed her by her hair, bending her over your lap. You shoved her down onto your cock, filling her mouth with whatever remnants of your actions were coating your shaft, and started using your hand to press her mouth all the way down your cock.
“Mmphmphmmm!” she gagged as your semi-erect cock went down her throat.
“Good little slut,” you teased before yanking her up by her hair. “Maybe I will let you suck the cum out of my cock next time.”
Coughing and spitting, Jennie looked up at you, her face bright red.
“That’s exactly what I mean,” she coughed, her happiness palpable. “I’m your little slut from now on.”
The aftermath got a bit hectic as a few of the execs saw you using Jennie’s mouth like a fleshlight and decided they wanted a turn - an idea Jennie wholeheartedly approved of. Jisoo and you didn’t get to speak much as she immediately began talking to some very important looking men outside, but she smiled warmly at you as you walked away. You hoped to catch up with her at some point again, make sure she got what she deserved with her solo.
It took way longer than expected, but you made your way back to Lisa’s room, checking the time to see it was just past midnight. As you walked, basically ran, through the hallways, all you could do was pray Lisa was still waiting. You had been through quite the ordeal, but she was still the girl you wanted tonight.
Panting and heaving, you arrived in front of her door. You quickly fixed up your clothes to the best of your ability, stood up straight, and knocked. Some movement was heard inside before the door swung open, and in front of you was an adorable girl wearing the widest smile imaginable.
“You actually came back.”
“I promised I would,” you said, accepting her invitation into the room. “I’m so sorry it took so long, things got complicated.”
“How did it go?” she asked, closing the door behind you.
“It was… interesting,” you answered truthfully.
“Look, we don’t have to talk about it,” Lisa said, her cheeks lightly blushed. “I know how these parties work, I know you were with a girl.”
“I’m sorry, please-”
“I won’t hold it against you,” Lisa said, looking into your eyes tenderly. “Like I said I understand how things work here, I still want to see what comes of this.”
“In that case,” you whispered, stepping up right in front of her with your hand pushing up on her chin gently. “Let’s continue where we left off.”
With her warm smile, she leaned forward and kissed you, a short and soft kiss.
“Sure, but first go shower,” Lisa giggled. “I said I understand, but I don’t want to be constantly reminded of how you just fucked another girl. You smell like sex.”
After a quick shower, you wrapped yourself in a towel and left the bathroom. You could hear two female voices, not something you expected. As you entered the room, you found Lisa sitting on the bed next to a familiar face.
“Bunny mask?!” Jisoo gasped.
“This is him?” Lisa gasped in pure shock as if her whole world was a lie.
“What are… why are… how…?” Jisoo stumbled, apparently incapable of forming even one sentence. “Why are you here?”
“Lisa and I were-”
“Thank you so much,” Lisa squealed, jumping off the bed and jumping into your arms. “Jisoo told me how you were the only one.”
“I just did what any decent person would have done,” you responded, holding Lisa up in your arms.
“Yet you were the only one who didn’t treat me like a toy for their pleasure,” Jisoo mumbled quietly.
“Thank you thank you thank you,” Lisa repeated while peppering your face with kisses. “I can’t believe I was upset with you for being late.”
“You were upset?”
“Wait, so you two…” Jisoo began to ask as Lisa hopped down from your embrace.
“He’s my boyfriend,” Lisa answered, pulling you onto the bed with her.
“I am?” you laughed, falling on top of her.
“No, but you never know,” Lisa winked, her playful demeanor returning in full force.
“In that case, I think I’ll leave you two to it,” Jisoo said, standing up from the bed.
“Don’t go!” you and Lisa shouted in unison before looking at each other.
Lisa cocked an eyebrow while staring at you, still smirking.
“You know what, maybe I’m the one who should leave,” Lisa suggested, pushing you off her.
“Wait no, Lisa,” you held her back.
“I’m not leaving for good,” she rolled her eyes at you. “I’ll just be in the other room, I think you two should have some time in private.”
“You’re fine with that?” you stuttered, shocked at her suggestion. It was one thing when you were forced to do something for your job, but she was still fine with it now?
“I meant to talk,” Lisa chuckled as she walked off. She leaned up against the bedroom door, looking back over her shoulder. “Oh and after you’re done talking to Jisoo with your cock, this will be waiting for you,” she added while sticking her ass out towards you and slapping it.
Jisoo’s face turned bright red in embarrassment as Lisa left to go to the other room, leaving just the two of you together.
“We don’t actually have to-”
“Thank you,” Jisoo cut you off.
You almost forgot how gorgeous she was.
“Are you alright?” you asked hesitantly, unsure what to say.
“I’m fine,” Jisoo answered, unable to look directly at you. “I just never properly thanked you earlier…”
“And I told you, I just did what any decent person would do.”
“I did things tonight I never thought I would do,” Jisoo said quietly, staring at her lap. “If it weren’t for you, I probably would have had to lose my…” she choked up. “To one of those…”
“Jisoo,” you scooted over on the bed closer to her and grabbed her hand. “Like I said earlier, tonight doesn’t define you.”
“My solo,” she said while looking into your eyes, her own eyes moist. “I’ll always be reminded…”
“Reminded of how hard you work,” you interrupted her. “And of nothing else.”
Her smile warmed your heart all the way to the core, so endearing and genuine. She was always pretty, but her smile elevated her perfect visual even more somehow.
“I want to remember one more thing,” she whispered, leaning closer to you with her eyes starting to close. “Can you help me with that?”
Both of you began kissing, softly and tenderly. You closed your eyes as well, immersing yourself entirely in the kiss, wrapping your arms around her body. She reciprocated, both of you touching as much of each other as you possibly could while your lips remained fixed together. As the kiss went on, you ended up gently pushing forward until Jisoo was on her back. As your lips parted, you opened your eyes to look down at her as she looked up at you, her eyes sparkling.
“I want to remember tonight forever,” she whispered as her hands reached up to your pants. “The right way.”
“Are you sure this is what you want?” you whispered back as she released your cock from your pants.
She answered your question with a kiss, this time her hands caressing your face tenderly like a lover. You kissed her back, slowly removing her clothes as you did. It wasn’t easy, stripping her down while keeping your tongue down her throat, but eventually you got there.
Your fingers made their way between her legs again, reuniting with the touch of her pussy. You let go of her mouth, lifting yourself above her slightly - you wanted to see her face as you went in for the first time.
“Ready?” you whispered into her face, receiving a nod of approval. “Tell me if I should stop.”
For the thousandth time that night, you were reminded of how beautiful Jisoo was. Precious, loveable, endearing, she looked up at you, her hands holding onto your biceps. Your cock was poised, held right in front of her pussy, ready to enter. Slowly, with the utmost care, you began to push into her.
Perfection was the only word that went through your mind as you entered. You went slowly, giving Jisoo ample time to adjust. She began to bite her lower lip, whimpering quietly as you pushed into her soft pussy. The warmth of her body engulfed you, burning your cock up with passion.
Her legs wrapped around your hips, hugging you as tightly as her pussy hugged your cock. You held still, just until her frantic breaths calmed down, relaxing just a bit. The grip she had on your arms began to falter as you pushed deeper inside her; You quickly caught her hands as she let go, interlocking your fingers with hers.
Then you pulled back, appreciating every possible sensation her pussy shot through your body. Back in you went, just as slowly and carefully as the first time. Her legs squeezed harder on your body, locking you in place, not letting you leave her pussy - not that you wanted to.
Somehow she began heating up even more, yet you didn’t care. You started to move just a little faster, using her moans as a cue to know when you were going too fast. It took some time, a construct that was lost on you at the moment, but eventually Jisoo was accepting your cock completely.
Deeper and deeper you pushed, testing her limits while still hyper-focusing on her reactions. As long as it looked like she was enjoying it, you kept going. Once you found yourself moving at a very comfortable pace, it didn’t take long for Jisoo’s moans to properly fill your ears.
There was no pornstar level screeching, Jisoo was too classy for that. She didn’t need to fake anything, either, your cock was hitting all the right buttons. The more you fucked her, the more her pussy leaked, making it easier to slide in and out of her burning tight pussy.
“Where?” you grunted softly.
“Inside,” Jisoo moaned, craning her neck upwards.
You leaned forward into her, pressing your mouth against hers. She let go of your hands, and her arms joined her legs as they wrapped around your body. You were locked in, physically impossible for you to be touching more of Jisoo’s soft skin.
Your thrusts sped up, not going nearly as deep anymore. At this point you couldn’t hold back, and with how Jisoo was kissing you, it was time. Your cock began to pulsate inside her warm pussy, filling her up pump by pump. The entire time, you kept your lips on hers, your tongues playfully fighting as your cock shot your seed deep inside her, until you felt your cock stop.
Now you were the one panting heavily, gasping for breath in Jisoo’s ear as she hugged you, her limbs still wrapped around your body. Your cock wouldn’t leave her warmth, it was too comforting. The two of you lay there, wrapped up in each other, until Jisoo spoke up with her croaky voice, dripping with emotion.
“I’ll never forget.”
“You really managed to hit three of the four tonight,” Lisa said informally, putting her phone on the side table. “You know, some people would literally murder you for that.”
“Do me a favor then,” you sighed, collapsing face down onto her bed. “Don’t tell anyone.”
“I was going to say I won’t as long as you fuck me,” Lisa giggled as she slid over and hugged you from behind. “But at this point I don’t know if you have it in you.”
“I do.” you mumbled into the bed. “Just give me a minute.”
“I’ll even give you two minutes,” Lisa joked, laying next to you on the bed.
“Three of the four huh,” you turned to your side to face Lisa. “Might as well go for the whole set tonight.”
“You’re not even done with my turn yet,” Lisa pouted, a hint of annoyance in her voice at the suggestion of another girl. “Plus, Rosie’s probably busy taking a really big dick tonight.”
“Is there anything you girls don’t share with each other?”
“This is different!” Lisa laughed. “Jennie told me about him, because of course she’s sucked his cock before, then I told Rosie I was considering him.”
“Wow so I’m just your second choice?”
“Oh stop it,” Lisa gave your arm a little slap. “Based on your night, I’m your third choice.”
“I… didn’t mean for it to work out like this,” you said disheartedly. “I really like you Lisa, a lot.”
“Alright, I’ll confess,” Lisa began to explain. “The four of us have a bit of a deal, we’re not supposed to hold anything that happens at these parties against each other. Anything.”
“I see… why?”
“Because that’s just how these parties work,” she replied before nervously hesitating. “We’ve all done some… unsavory acts here.”
“If I asked, would you tell?”
“Mine wasn’t that bad, honestly speaking,” Lisa answered. “Just a few execs taking turns, nothing rough, I did most of the work.”
“A few?” you clarified.
“Okay maybe more than a few,” she chuckled. “It was a long night.”
“Honestly I’m not one to judge,” you muttered while massaging one of her butt cheeks.
“And this is why the four of us made this pact,” Lisa continued. “Rosie’s was bad, really bad, I think that’s why Jisoo refused to participate for so long.”
“How bad are we talking?” you asked. “Without going into details.”
“Her’s was a bit more intense on the fetish side,” Lisa answered hesitantly. “I’m just glad there was no recording, but the three of us watched and it wasn’t particularly flattering of her character.”
“I guess that just leaves Jennie.”
“Oh Jennie is the biggest slut ever,” Lisa replied, her tone completely shifting. “When she first came to one of these, there wasn’t even a promise of a solo. She was just a complete slut and couldn’t satiate her cock cravings.”
“She does give me that vibe,” you laughed. “She’s young, rich, and powerful, I guess it’s her right to whore herself out if that’s what she wants.”
“Jisoo told me you were a bit rough with that slut,” Lisa whispered as she climbed on top of you.
“Only because she deserved it.”
“Yeah? Did you fuck that little slut?” she moaned, grinding her body on your crotch, forcing the blood to rush to your cock. “Did you fuck her hard?”
“I did,” you grunted as Lisa pressed down harder.
“I don’t believe you,” Lisa teased as she slipped off her top, leaving her straddling your body with just a thin piece of cloth barely eligible to be called a bra covering her torso. “Why don’t you show me how hard you fucked her.”
She was too much for you. Ever since you first saw her on the dance floor earlier, you had been dreaming of this moment. Never in your wildest dreams would you have imagined it to come true, especially this quickly; Even then, you simply did not have it in you to wait any longer. You grabbed her waist and flung her around onto the bed, slamming her back into the soft cushioning.
“Oh!” she squealed as she instinctively wrapped her legs around you. “Is baby boy going to plow my little pussy?”
“Is that what baby girl wants?” you replied while dropping your pants. You started rubbing your cock against her panties.
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Lisa whined, her cuteness overpowering you. “I’ve been such a good girl, I waited for you to fuck Jennie, then-”
“Shh,” you hushed her with a finger against her lips. “I’d pick you over either of them.”
It was Lisa’s turn to flip you onto your back, shocking you with how much strength such a small girl had.
“You sure? That kiss sounded pretty passionate,” Lisa smirked, removing her tiny bra.
“You listened?” you asked while grabbing Lisa’s ass with both hands, pressing down into the beautiful cushioning.
“I watched,” Lisa moaned, bending over your body, pulling her panties to the side.
“Naughty girl,” you grunted as she put your tip right up against her pussy.
Your mind went completely numb - how could a girl be this fucking tight? Her pussy was easily the tightest you have ever had. You almost considered looking for some lube, which probably wouldn’t be too difficult to find after hearing about Jennie’s tendencies.
Lisa’s core muscles were captivating your attention - as much as you could spare. Her flexed body as she started riding you looked fucking amazing. She was so small, yet her body was so hot, toned and muscular. Just like the dance floor earlier, she moved in ways you didn’t know were possible, the tightness of her pussy being no point of contention.
She rode you for a bit longer, each time her body bounced on your cock it filled you with energy. Enthusiasm began filling your body, and soon you found yourself thrusting your hips upwards into her tightness. Sweat began dripping off her, yet she still rode with the same level of energy and commitment - this girl didn’t believe in laziness.
After just a bit more, you decided she earned a break. It was time for her to let you do the work. You let go of her ass, sure you left an imprint of your hand with how hard you were gripping it, and you slid your hands up her sweaty body towards her hips. In one swift motion, you cock never leaving her pussy, you flipped her onto her back.
“Oh baby boy,” she huffed, falling onto her back, her hair splayed all over the bed. “You’re so fucking hot.”
For just a moment, you explored her toned core with your hands while you bent over her body and sucked on her neck. The salty sweat of her skin was like fuel for your cock, and slowly you began thrusting into her pussy which was as tight as ever.
Despite her pussy making it difficult, you pushed harder, essentially forcing yourself into her body. You could even feel her trying to push back towards you, at least as much as she could while on her back, but you didn’t need her help. You just needed her.
It was already getting comfortable, or rather your lust for Lisa’s pussy was just overwhelming the difficulty of taking it. Either way, your cock began to pump inside her, relishing in the pressure. Slowly but surely you began to speed up, thrusting your hips deep into her at every opportunity. Your cock never went half way, each thrust shoved it as deep as possible.
Lisa’s arched back would have been enough to let you know how much she liked it, but her moaning was just exemplary. She had no shyness when it came to being vocal, encouraging you to keep fucking her tight little pussy with her words, her incoherent words which made absolutely perfect sense.
It was unclear how long you fucked her like this, at this point you basically felt drunk, completely intoxicated on Lisa’s body. She was just so tight. You grabbed the backs of her thighs, your hands sinking into her softness, and pushed them forward. Her knees went up towards her chest, and the modified position by some miracle made her pussy even tighter.
“Holy fucking shit Lisa,” you cried, pushing your cock as deep as the new angle allowed. “You’re so fucking tight.”
“Fuck me baby boy,” she hummed, her smile showcasing those adorable dimples. “Fuck this little pussy good.”
Her tightness was building up the pressure too quickly, your cock barely listened to you anymore. You couldn’t cum yet, you were far from done with Lisa’s pussy. Swiftly, you withdrew your cock, pulling back all the way and shoving your face between her legs before she could voice her displeasure.
Disappointed or not, you had no idea, but Lisa wrapped her legs around your head. Her thighs squeezed the sides of your face as your mouth filled itself with her pussy. You shoved your tongue all over her folds, licking her up entirely before plunging it inside. The tightness fought back, but ultimately you won, shoving your tongue into her pussy and licking from the inside.
Her pussy tasted just as addicting as it felt. You felt her hands grab your hair, pulling each time your tongue hit the sensitive parts. Breathing was becoming difficult, yet you were delighted just inhaling Lisa’s little pussy.
Lisa must have been delighted as well, as you could feel her thighs squeezing harder and harder against your face. Her pussy was leaking more and more, the wetness covering your tongue until there was too much. You licked through, not caring about the mess all over your face, when suddenly Lisa began crying out.
A gush of liquid rushed out of her pussy and onto your face with force. Some of it even flew up, and you felt it land on top of your head. So, Lisa was a squirter. It was physically impossible to lap up everything that was shooting out of her pussy, despite your best efforts. She kept squirting, and you could feel drops landing as far as your back, the image of her wetness flying over your body flashing through your mind.
After licking her up, making sure your saliva covered every piece of skin between her legs, you pushed her thighs apart. You would have happily sucked on her pussy longer, maybe even all night if she was willing, but your cock was itching to get back inside her.
Lisa completely revitalized the lust burning inside you, even after all you did today, you somehow couldn’t get enough of her. You stood up from the bed, grabbing her hands and pulling her towards you.
At first she was confused, but then she quickly realized what you wanted. She hopped up into your arms, wrapping her arms around your shoulder while you grabbed her soft ass from below. With her legs encasing your body for support, you grabbed your cock and fumbled around until you found her pussy again.
Thankfully, she was light, and holding her up was no issue. With her help, the two of you adjusted until your cock pushed inside her pussy. You began to bounce her up and down, the tightness of her body becoming comfortable to you now.
Her small tits were pressed right up against your face, and you took the opportunity to suck on her nipples. She was sensitive, very sensitive, and she immediately moaned as soon as your tongue touched the little nub. You sucked and licked, alternating between the two, until you no longer had the energy.
Your grip on her ass was beginning to slip, the sweat making it difficult to hold her up. Your cock was burning up, getting close, but you didn’t have the strength to hold her up anymore.
You collapsed onto the ground, fatigue hitting you like a truck. Lisa fell with you, her tight pussy keeping your cock inside her. She kissed your mouth a few times, but you didn’t have the energy to kiss her back. Luckily she didn’t seem to care, and she was already twerking her pussy on your cock.
There was no more control of what was happening, your orgasm was coming and there was nothing you could do. Holding back was no longer an option, Lisa was going to ride it out of you. She kept kissing you while her pussy kept bouncing up and down.
After some unknown amount of time, everything was a blur at this point, you felt an intense rush of pressure down your spine. Your cock had been building up pressure, and just like that it became too much. That first shot of cum went deep through Lisa’s body, you could feel the force. This was easily your most intense orgasm of the night.
“Fuck Lisa,” you cried out as she immediately jumped off your cock with nimble precision and repositioned herself, making the second blast of cum launch directly up into her face, hitting her on the nose.
She put her mouth on your tip, holding her hair back with one hand, her lips pouted over your tip creating a tight seal. Your next few blasts went straight down her throat, you had no idea how there was still so much power.
Lisa’s lips moved back and forth slightly, sucking the cum straight out of you, not giving your sensitive cock even a second of reprieve from her desires. Eventually you felt the pressure of your blasts calm down, but Lisa still kept sucking on your tip. Wasting cum was not an option.
“Lisa please,” you begged, your hands balled up in fists.
She looked up at you, the sexiest gaze you’ve ever seen, and she lifted her mouth just above your cock. Her lips parted, and a rush of white goo spilled out, coating your shaft like a waterfall. Without even giving you time to react, she plunged her mouth all the way down your cock again before slowly lifting her face up, all of the cum that spilled being recollected in her mouth.
“Holy fucking shit,” you sobbed, the sensitivity in your cock becoming too much. “I fucking love you Lisa.”
Her smile was to die for, she just knew how to make you fall for her. She tilted her head back, closed her eyes, and gulped, sending your cum straight down her throat. With a satisfying gasp, she opened her mouth, smiling brightly.
“Yummy,” she giggled, crawling forward and laying on your chest.
“Is the… girlfriend thing… still… an option?” you panted, wrapping your arms around her. “Please?”
“I’ll consider it in the morning,” Lisa smiled at you. “I don’t think Rosie is coming tonight, wanna sleep with me?”
“I wanna sleep with you every night,” you sighed, suddenly full of emotion.
“Let’s talk about that more tomorrow,” Lisa laughed before kissing you. “Not right after you cum in my mouth.”
“Does that mean I’m not cumming in your mouth tomorrow?”
The last thing you remember was Lisa’s adorable giggle before your world turned to black, fatigue knocking you out completely.
Waking up to a familiar sensation is always nice, but waking up to a mouth around your cock was the best.
“Oh baby,” you groaned, rubbing your eyes. “Lisa, What time is it?”
“Not Lisa,” a soft Australian accent pleasured your ears.
Your eyes shot open and you sat up, realizing you were still on the floor, completely nude. Between your legs was a slender girl - one who was most definitely not Lisa. She didn’t even bother looking up at you, she was too focused on your cock.
It was like she was worshiping it, planting kisses all over. Her tongue ran up and down your length, then her lips pressed against your shaft, she was tasting your cock entirely, putting extra focus on your balls. You were stunned, your freshly woken up brain not piecing together what was going on.
“Who…?”
“You can call me Rosie,” the girl sang with that beautifully intoxicating accent. “Or baby, that sounded pretty nice.”
“What…?”
“I’ve realized something tonight,” Rosé said while licking your cock between words. “Some guys just don’t give a shit.”
“I don’t-”
“I’m not asking for much, just someone to put their dick in me and move their hips a bit,” she sighed. “Having a huge cock doesn’t give you an excuse to just lay there like a fucking starfish.”
She moved her face lower, putting your balls in her mouth and shaking her head side to side, coating them in her saliva as well. It was so casual for her, she almost seemed uninterested, yet at the same time she seemed obsessed with your balls.
“Can you believe I did everything for him,” Rosé continued after exhaling heavily, now finally looking up at you. “He didn’t even have the decency to make me cum one time.”
“Rosie, I have no-”
“Baby,” she cut you off. “Baby definitely sounds better.”
She put your cock back into her mouth, making a twisting motion with her hand gripped around your shaft while her tongue focused on your tip. She prodded your entrance lightly, licking circles around it, while her hand stroked you until you were rock hard.
“Umm, alright, baby,” you stuttered, the feeling around your cock making it extra difficult to focus. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s not important,” she released your cock with an audible pop. “All that matters is that I was with a disappointment tonight, and now I want to be with someone who cares.”
“How do you know I’m that person,” you moaned, each word becoming more difficult as she stroked your cock. “Maybe I’m just as bad.”
“Unlikely,” Rosé laughed. “This is the first time Lisa has ever let a guy stay the night, and based on what you were wearing when I walked in, I have a feeling I know what the two of you were doing.”
“I don’t think Lisa would be fond of it,” you said while grabbing Rosé’s wrist, stopping her strokes.
“Just don’t tell her, then,” she suggested, bringing her other hand to your cock. “I won’t.”
“Even if I wanted to lie to her, which I don’t, there’s one issue,” you replied, turning your head towards the bed and nodding with your eyebrows raised.
Rosé shook her head, chuckling lightly before turning as well.
“Lisa-yah! Can your friend fuck me?” she shouted towards the bed.
“Mmmm,” Lisa moaned.
“Is that a yes?” Rosé shouted again.
“Yeah,” Lisa sighed, not wanting to get out of bed. “Just don’t be so loud…”
“See,” Rosé smiled. “She approves.”
“I don’t know if that counts…” you hesitated.
Rose rolled her eyes and stood up, leaving your cock awfully lonely. She reached underneath her skirt, one so short it didn’t even make it halfway down her thighs, and slipped off her panties. Picking them up from her ankles, she crouched down next to you and put the blue garment into your mouth.
“Just stop thinking so hard,” she whispered into your ear before sliding down onto your body, running her hands along your chest. “I promise she won’t be upset, you can trust me.”
Right, their little pact. Even if Lisa hadn’t told you about their deal beforehand, for some reason you did trust her. Maybe it was her accent, or that pretty blonde hair that fit her slender body so well. Maybe it was because she introduced herself to you with her mouth around your cock.
Whatever it was, you didn’t even flinch as she began to lower her body onto your lap. She sat down on your cock, reminding you immediately of how sensitive it was despite her pussy being so gentle. Even though she seemed mostly disinterested, putting up the facade of you just being a glorified dildo for her, you could see that she was lusting for someone to actually fuck her properly tonight.
It became your goal to become that someone. Maybe it was because she was hot, stupidly hot. Maybe it was because you wanted to make her cry out with that to-die-for accent. Maybe your libido was malfunctioning, always craving more. Or maybe it was just because she introduced herself to you with her mouth around your cock - that seems to be the trick.
Frankly, it didn’t matter why you wanted to fuck this beautiful girl. It didn’t matter why she wanted you to fuck her, either. What did matter was that you were going to fuck her, and you were done waiting. You pulled the panties out of your mouth and got ready.
“Put it in, baby,” you whispered as you wrapped your arms around her waist, resting them on her hips.
She didn’t need to be told twice. With your chests still pressed against each other’s, she reached a hand down from behind her back and grabbed your shaft. Without much teasing, she slowly lowered herself down onto your cock, taking the entire length on the first go.
A sharp gasp escaped your lips the second you entered her. She wasn’t as tight as Lisa, she wasn’t as wet as Jennie or Jisoo, but one thing was certain - she was warm. Her body was like a blanket for your cock, not too hot to where it hurt, but the warmth was screaming to you, describing just how unsatisfied her pussy was tonight: before you.
Your bodies moved in tandem, her hands kept touching you everywhere, and your hips worked as one unit with a unified goal: The goal to make this beautiful girl lose her mind. The more you fucked her, the warmer and tighter she became; She was almost Lisa levels of tight now, but not quite.
“Come on baby, lemme hear you scream,” you grunted, adding some extra force to your hips.
“Keep fucking me like this and you will,” she moaned, the enthusiasm in her riding increasing as well. “Keep fucking me, keep fucking me.”
This was the plan. You clutched her waist and fucked her as quickly as you could. The incessant, never-ending slapping sound of your bodies felt as though it could probably be heard three rooms down - not that you cared. Rosé's face was brimming with delight but the rest of her body froze as you enjoyed her pussy.
“Oh yeah baby,” you groaned, building up a sweat as you exerted all your energy.
“You’re going to make me cum!” she cried out, her accent getting thicker. “Keep fucking me, don’t fucking stop!”
“Cum for me baby,” you moaned right next to her ear, slamming your cock into her as hard as possible. “Do it baby, just fucking do it.”
“Oh fuck,” she cried out one last time before it happened.
She started to cum, a small rush of liquid flowing down onto your thighs. You almost wouldn’t have been able to tell she was cumming, her pussy didn’t pulse like the other girls, but her cries of pleasure were all the confirmation you needed - she was literally sobbing as if you changed her life with this orgasm.
Her fingers were digging into your shoulders as you slowed down your thrusting, making sure she rode out her orgasm to the fullest. You let go of her hips and reached up the back of her skirt, giving her small ass a few squeezes.
With how preoccupied you were with Rosé’s pussy, you didn’t even notice Lisa had gotten out of bed until you felt her hands wrap around your chest from behind.
“Baby boy,” Lisa purred into your ear. “I don’t care if you fuck her, I actually liked watching it, but if you call her baby one more time I’m going to fucking murder you tonight.”
Her threat sent shivers down your entire body. That sweetly cute voice of hers threatening you in such a provocative way, it was almost embarrassing to admit it turned you on more than the girl you were balls deep in right now.
“I’m sorry baby girl,” you moaned back, turning your face to kiss her cheek as she watched you fuck her roommate senseless.
“I’ll forgive you, but you have to work for it,” she whispered as she pulled you down by your shoulders until you were laying on your back, Rosé still riding you slowly the entire time. “Can you give me what I want?” she asked, voice dripping with seduction, holding your head in her lap.
“Anything,” you moaned as you could feel Rosé start to slow down until she stopped riding you completely, holding herself on your cock.
Lisa carefully moved back, letting your head rest on the floor, before she started crawling over your body. The warmth around your cock suddenly disappeared as Lisa’s wet little pussy was held in front of you, and then that warmth was replaced by pure wetness.
Anything, you would do anything to see what the two girls were doing as you felt their tongues licking your cock. The swirling around your tip, the circles around your shaft, up and down your length, a few kisses of wetness against your balls, the two girls had absolutely no holds reserved when it came to rubbing their tongues on your cock.
Inevitably, you felt precum leaking out of your tip, just to be immediately lapped up by one of them - probably Lisa. The other mouth, which you assume was Rosé, began sucking on your balls. It was too much for you, the two mouths on your cock were too good at this.
On top of that, all you could see was Lisa’s pussy in front of you. You couldn’t take it anymore, the wet shine threatening to drip onto your face, but never doing so. You reached up with both hands and grabbed Lisa’s body, plunging her down onto your face.
Immediately, you heard her moan, even with your cock in her mouth. Her pussy filled your senses, giving you a tiny bit of a distraction from the two girls sucking your cock. It didn’t matter though, the second you tasted Lisa’s pussy, you knew you weren’t going to last much longer.
Your cock immediately began to pulse, you were just seconds away from coating the inside of Lisa’s mouth with cum. You almost wanted to warn her, but your body wanted to make the most of these few seconds, sucking on Lisa’s pussy as hard as you could. At this point you lost all control over your body. Your tongue only knew one thing in the world: Lisa’s pussy.
It wasn’t until your cock paralyzed the rest of your body as it started launching cum into Lisa’s mouth. Lisa stopped moving, holding steady, just using her tongue to help propel your cum down her throat, but Rosé never stopped licking your balls. Even as your cock exploded, Rosé just couldn’t get enough.
Lisa pressed her body down a bit harder on your face, her pussy rubbing up against your open mouth. You didn’t have the motor control to lick her anymore, your mind was too numbed by the orgasm. It was still going, your cock was still launching cum into the warmth of Lisa’s mouth.
As you were starting to get light-headed, either from the orgasm or the lack of breathing thanks to Lisa’s pussy suffocating you, she got off your face and moved her body to the side. Her mouth was still glued to your cock, she didn’t want to waste any of your precious cum, but now she could look at you.
She waited patiently for you to stop unloading before finally lifting her mouth. This time, no cum spilled out of her mouth as she lifted herself up. Leaning forward, pushing her cute tits together with her arms, she stared you dead in the eyes as she swallowed the entire load. No shudder, no shiver, nothing at all to indicate she didn’t absolutely adore swallowing your cum.
“Lisa,” you moaned, completely exhausted.
She looked at you for a brief second before she noticed a few dribbles of cum leak out of your tip, sliding down towards your balls where Rosé was now kissing them repeatedly. The little bit of cum made it all the way down to your balls where Rosé paid little attention - until Lisa lifted her face off your balls.
Lisa leaned forward and kissed Rosé, stealing the tiny bit of your cum that was on her lips, before she bent over your lap again and ran her tongue up your shaft. She really did not believe in wasting a single drop - she was addicted to your cum. After swallowing it again, she crawled over your body until she was laying directly on top of you, while Rosé returned to your balls.
“Remember one thing,” Lisa said softly into your face. “I’m the only one you can call baby.”
“Does that mean we’re officially dating?”
---
A/N:
Yeah... this fic ended up being over 21k words. I guess I still like some things about Blackpink nowadays. Hopefully it was an enjoyable read, I had a lot of fun writing this one.
Anyway, feel free to send me messages or requests or whatever you feel like. Comments, messages, totally up to you guys. Not much else to say, just that I had a lot of upcoming projects that I'm currently working on.
THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR BEING SO DAMN SUPPORTIVE. I'll say it over and over and over and over, because I really appreciate the positivity!
1K notes · View notes
luveline · 1 year
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if you’re taking joel requests here’s one :3
touch-starved!joel who isn’t aware he’s touch starved but then extremely affectionate reader comes along and just always! touches! him! loving & intentional touches, casual touches—all of it drives him wild and he loves it!!
thank you!! I hope this is okay! Touch-starved Joel who wants you but doesn't know how to want you w/ mutual pining ♥︎ fem!reader 2k
Joel wishes you wouldn't work the same shifts as him. Wishes you didn't have to work any shifts at all, wishes you didn't know this life, but you do. He wishes you wouldn't pick all the high-paying, devastating jobs that he does, wishes you didn't insist on keeping him company. And above all, he wishes you wouldn't touch him, because he can't handle the way that he feels when you do. 
Sharing shifts turns to seeing one another outside of the old meat market by accident. In turn, that becomes purposeful. Before he really knows it, you're comfortable enough to come by his apartment and you'll wait there even when he isn't home just to see him. Precious hours of your life spent curled in on yourself at his door. 
Joel nudges your sleeping body with his shoe and then feels like the world's biggest asshole. He sighs, kneeling down despite his aching back, and shakes your shoulder. He notices how soft your jaw looks when you sleep and has to look away, lest he think about it too much now, and remember it later. You have this habit of chasing him into bed when you're not there. 
Your hand wakes before your eyes do, and you curl your fingers around his wrist, half on his sleeve and half on his skin. Where you connect hums with heat. 
"Why are you out here?" He changes his prerogative, feeling as though chastisement is more important. "You have no sense of danger, even now. Get up." 
He doesn't speak without fondness. You'd have to look hard to find it, but it's undoubtedly there.
His tone has you awake and alert quickly, your gaze on his face. "I do," you say croakily, letting him pull you into a standing position. 
"Then what are you doing out here?" 
"I can't call first… You look tired." 
"I am. I'm not staying up." He pulls his wrist from your lingering grasp. "Should've called."
"You act like you don't like me," you say without inflection, following him in through the door and closing it softly behind you. 
He drops his jacket over the back of the couch and scrubs his face with both hands. His back aches from standing and heaving all day, his arms tight with a cramping tension. 
If he were younger he'd turn around and wrap you up in his arms. He'd tell you what he really thinks of you, your head hooked in the crook of his arm, his free hand roaming lazily over your back. His pinky finger would run along the line of your jeans playfully, and maybe you'd laugh. You don't laugh as much as you should. 
"Are you hungry?" he asks. 
"No, Joel."
You'd lie even if you were. 
He moves into the kitchen, makes himself a small glass of water, and leans against the counter. He tries not to drink it like a total pig knowing you're watching, but he's dehydrated and cotton-mouthed. 
The window paints you in a weak light, like iced tea. You pick over his things and arrange yourself on the couch like a tired house cat, pulling your legs up and rubbing your cheek against the backrest. Shoulders to the arm, you're almost lying down. He could superimpose you into his sheets, imagining how you might look in bed, not naked or waiting or anything so salacious, just how you’d look getting ready to sleep. He wonders if you wear pyjamas, figures you likely sleep dressed as you are now in your shirt and jeans. Maybe you swap denim for sweatpants, maybe you don’t. Maybe you peel your shirt off, maybe your bra. He entertains a life where he gets to see it and finds it painful as wrapping his hand around a hot poker, because that life is alarmingly close to this one, if he were to take one small leap.
“Where were you today?” he asks.
He sees a flicker of humour flit across your face. He knows it as one of your tells — you'd thought about bending the truth.
"You don’t have to worry, I’m just… rundown. Felt sicker than usual, so I stayed home." 
It's automatic for him to give you a once over as he would with anybody who feels under the weather. You haven't been unlike yourself, you aren't sweating or irritable. You're fine. You’re more than fine.
You have a strange inability to look after yourself. He believes in positive (and negative) reinforcement. 
"Good girl," he says. 
You smile at your hands, picking at nails he knows are scrubbed raw and clean as he crosses the room to sit with you on the couch. You're quick to push your legs over his lap, your jeans riding up until the rarely-seen skin of your ankles peak out. 
"I had an incredible headache," you continue. "And I felt like the blood was rushing in my ears when I stood up but I wasn’t dizzy.”
You touch him and it's like all his agitation starts to numb itself. The weight of your legs has him forgetting his aching back and his sore arms. He stares at his closed fist by your foot, willing himself to touch you; all he wants to do is grab your leg, feel the dough and softness of it under his palm. You sit up a touch to brush a longer piece of hair sticking out behind his neck. 
He pretends you aren't moving at all. 
"Do you feel better now?" he asks. 
Your knuckle brushes under his jaw. He feels the short hairs of his beard catching. 
"I feel fine," you say. "How are you feeling?" 
He turns to face you head on. He’s not going to answer your question. You already know he won’t, but you've asked anyway. He isn’t sure what to do with that.
“You really do look tired,” you say softly, concern knitting your brows together. He thinks it’s your most devastating look yet. “I don’t wanna keep you up, Joel, I’ll go home. You can get some real rest.”
He almost says Hey, I don’t want you to leave yet, and you’re already standing up. You look more sorry than you should, believing that you're a burden on him when you aren’t — you're a lightness. You drain the levy, and he can’t see himself getting any rest at all if you leave. 
You’re saving him the awkwardness, climbing off of his couch and out of his lap to track down your shoes. “And, you know, you could shower,” you say, trying to infuse some life back into the room, “I know the cold water bites but we all gotta do it.”
He stands up too fast and feels an absence of noise. No blood rushing in his ears, no beating heart. He’s too tired, in every sense of the word, to ask for what he wants. He can’t ask you to stay. 
You lean down to hook your finger into the back of your sneaker and stop at his expression. You stand a little taller. Whatever vulnerability he sees in you now, your short black socks against the floor, your sweet-eyed, tentative smile, he suspects he’d find it doubled in the mirror. 
“Joel, I…”
He can’t ask you. 
But that doesn't mean you can't ask him. 
"Do you think I could stay, after all? To sleep. Just to sleep," you say. Your voice is quiet, like you're trying to spare yourself some dignity if you need to take it back. 
He thinks about it. You, in his bed. You, sleeping as you had been in his hallway, your lashes skimming the delicate skin under your eyes, your neck craned in. You, with your hands under your cheek, your sluggish breathing, your heart capering only a handful of inches from his. 
A beat. "You kick in your sleep?" he asks, cotton-mouth returned.
"No," you say. You laugh through it, making the word so thick it's almost sticky. Honey in sound. 
It solidifies what he's said yes to. He doesn't know how to sleep next to you. He barely knows how to talk to you, and doesn't try as he leads you into his bedroom. Thankfully, you spare him. He knows you aren't the most confident person on the planet, and that each bold move you make is for his benefit. He tries to be unflinching in return, kicking out of his shoes and throwing back the blankets to lie flat on the sheets. You settle in next to him with little ceremony.
You keep your legs hiked up at first, your heels digging into the mattress near his knees. You turn your face to his, and he turns his face to yours. He can see your every wrinkle and line this close. You must be seeing his. 
"You got lucky with the neighbour lottery, huh?" you say, not quite whispering. "It's silent." 
He doesn't want you to stop talking, but he can't help himself. "Almost," he says wryly.
You know him well enough to smile. "I guess you don't need the quiet," —you turn carefully onto your side, letting the weight of your knees rest on his thigh— "'cause you work all day every day." 
The opposite. The shit he sees on shift is enough to give anybody insomnia. 
"I'm the bad neighbour." 
"Oh, right, your radio." The back of your hand touches his arm. The slightest of touches but enough to make him realise how much he wants it. He can't remember the last time somebody touched him who wasn't you, not for years now. It's an amicable casualness he can't explain away. He wants it worse than a hydro.
"I might, uh, might cling a little, in my sleep. You can push me away, swears. Even if you gotta really fight me on it." You close your eyes, burrowing your face into one of his flat pillows. Your knuckles jump up his arm as you get comfortable. "Jus' shove me." 
He closes his eyes. The dark of his eyelids is usually a torment, but with you this close it lulls him quickly and without finesse. "I'm not gonna shove you," he says while he still can. 
He's on the precipice of sleep when your hand slides up his bicep. You feel along the soft ridging of his muscles until your fingers slot between his arm and his chest, and your nose is kissing his shoulder. It's as if the moonlight has heat and it's bearing down on him through the dirty windows as every stressed ligament, every tensed tissue in his sore body finally gives in to rest.
When he wakes, he's missed his morning shift start. You're clinging to him like you said you would, harder than he'd think possible considering your unconsciousness, with your lips pressed to his shoulder. He thinks it might leave a bruise. 
He dips his face toward yours until the tip of his nose nudges your forehead and goes back to sleep.
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safination · 3 months
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Partners in Death…and Life
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Part 2: Radio Will be Dead if He Doesn’t Explain Himself
| Part 1: Radio's Not Dead |Part 3: Not Everything You Hear From The Radio Should be Trusted| Masterlist | ao3 Parings: Alastor x wife!reader Tags: fem!reader, established relationship, hopefully not but just in case ooc!alastor (I'm still trying my best to keep him as canon as possible) Reader is in hell for a reason.
Summary: After a seven-year absence, you find the man you were married to in life, not only back in town, but also helping... *checks notes*... the Princess of Hell run a hotel aimed at rehabilitating sinners who were sent to the bad place for a reason. Hello, I’m back :D This was supposed to be published yesterday, but I got busy. Anyway, thank you for all the likes so far. It motivated me to really finish this chapter. Also once again, I have everything planned out, it really is just a matter of writing it down. *Updated 28/02/2024 Just added some stuff that I thought made sense*
Flick…
Flick…
Flick…
Lights flicker above you with a slight buzz. You drape an arm over your eyes when the gleam of the bulb blind you.
The hardwood floors chill your skin, but it’s the sensation of casual loose clothing on your back that warrants your exhale in peace. Just a second. You just need a moment on these hard and chilling floors to ground you… just… one … single … moment to…
Inhale
Exhale
Inhale
Exhale
A stray feather pricks into your arm. The vane tickles, but the barb digs your skin. You’ve called this body ‘yours’ far longer than your human one, yet the feathers that grow on your skin still astound you. You twirl it around your fingers, and wave it in the air like a wand—it’s a proper animalistic feather.
Your nose scrunches into a hard scowl, and you jump up, stomping into the kitchen toward that untouched coffee mug on your counter. Grabbing it, you splash the contents down the sink, letting it flush down the drain.
The sponge is rough against your hands as you scrub and you scrub and you scrub and you scrub and you scrub and you scrub a̵̯͒n̴̤͝d̶̫͌ ̶͚̇y̶̤̎o̷͔̓u̶̢͐ ̸̓͜s̵̪͗c̸͎͂r̷̀ͅṳ̴̎b̸͖̀ ầ̷̩̯͍̙̳̍͗͘ń̵̰̞̰̕d̴͇̻̮̫̝̓̎̈́ ̶̡̬̬̮̺͗͒́̌͑y̴̙̘̻͇̿̉̐͆ǫ̷͉̟̍̅̑̏ŭ̸̖͓ͅ ̴̛̝͇̭̥̌́́̂s̸̠̑̽̏́c̷̥̺̃̾̊r̶̲̯̈́̈̄͆͊u̵̼̝͕̼̇̍̈́͘b̶͍͖͖̐̾͝.
Inhale
Exhale
Inhale
Exhale
You rinse the mug, slamming the cupboard door shut when you drop it next to your own clean one. Fingers run through your feather-hair…hair-feather, or your ‘whatever that grows on your scalp’. Some questions you’ve stopped asking.
An audible grumble… well, uhhhhh…. grumbles from where your stomach is placed in this body, and you munch on your lips to keep the inhumane screech from erupting into the kitchen and breaking all kinds of glassware and little knickknacks that Alastor filled your home with.
(These days, the old trinkets collect dust on your shelves. There haven’t been any new ones in years.)
Chopping Hell’s equivalent of carrots calms you. (It’s honestly the use of some type of razor-sharp object that calms you. You’d prefer a different razor-sharp object, but a sharp knife is a sharp knife, no matter the size.) You chop until there’s enough food to make a proper and decent meal that your stomach will accept.
You crash on the couch, dinner secured on a plate, and flip the television switch. Light flashes into the room when you do.
Ad about some impish business—Not interested.
‘Yeah, I fucked your sister, So what?’ — Boring.
Cooking Venison with Vox— Lame.
Settling on the lifestyle network, you munch on your food. Some poor slimy creature flashes across the screen, and it's her home that will be remodeled because of…something. You’re not sure what that something was. You don’t care enough to find out.
The sounds from the television swap with the silence of your living-room as you take each bite. It’s one of the sadder habits you’ve picked up since purchasing this noisy picture box.
Your eyes wander to that half-filled coat rack, while your ears listen in on the show and that woman did not just say that pink would go with brown. Only your singular coat drapes on the hinge, when this particular design was made to hold two.
A commercial plays for some-thing called the Hazbin Hotel.
Your eyes are stitched to the screen until the final note of the song plays, and a different advertisement takes its spot. You take a sip of your drink.  Just ą̷̖̯͈͂ ̷̡̧͚̤̩͎̙͇̞͓̟͈̤̝͉͉͉̘̉͐̓́̆́̇̍̐̿̈̄͜͜͜͝͝s̶̨̢̛̥̣̻̱̰̬̩̹̥̞̟̳̝͔͓͙̗̗͕̟͇̆̉̿į̴̡̢̠͇̱̤͔̙͎͕͛̑̓̒̀̔͆̓͂̃̚͘͘͠ṗ̶̡̢̨̳͙̦̮͍͓̻͎̲̪̲͕͛̔̐́̐̈́̒̒̉̎͛̆̈́̈́̉̔̑̃̕ͅ.
Inhale
Exhale
Inhale
Exhale
Inhale
Exhale
Inhale
Exhale
You blink, and you find your keys locking your front door.  Already, your legs are trekking down the garden stones. A flower snarls at you as the gate locks with a click.
Another blink.
 Huh…you’re on the bus.
The sign says it’s headed into the city. Living on the outskirts has always been beneficial for you. Not today, though. Today, the one-hour commute makes your feathers bristle.
You read the barely eligible address scribbled on the note, and pat your hair, smoothing the flared feathers sticking out. It seems…
Hmmmmm.
It seems you did not think this through. H-how…How are you going to get to the hotel?
Tagatha calls you a fossil for using one of those flippy telephones. You considered purchasing those fancy telephones with the lights and screens, and loud robotic voices telling you where to turn left, but learning to use a flip-phone brought enough stress for two lifetimes. You’ll happily stay a fossil.
Turns out, you don’t even need the address.
The Hazbin Hotel sticks out. It’s a humongous building with its name written across what you call the sky in blinding neon lights. Your vision zooms in, and you see that the hotel rests on a giant hill at the other edge of the city. Three large neon-lit arrows point to a crudely attached radio tower. Below it, a wooden ship hangs to the side. Circus light bulbs flicker with electricity.
The Hazbin Hotel is an eyesore – it’s exactly what Alastor prefers.
You reach the dinged-up metal gate on the bottom of the hill and reset your hand on the rusted latch. Trekking through the city took a lot, and you were already here. So, why are your legs frozen to the cement? Why does your heartbeat thump in your ears?
“Excuuussseeeee me.”
A snake towers over you. It’s your first time seeing such a slithery specimen as large as him. His hat rests on his hold, and it blinks at you. His hair … or was that skin … puffs out with two red sets of red eyes.
“Can I help you?” you say, warily. Sinners are in hell for a reason.
“Yessssh,” he says, his tongue slithering out. His flaps stick out, all four eyes staring right into your own. “I’d like to be a guessst at this hotel!”
You glance at the eye-sore that’s called a hotel. “I don’t work here.”
His flaps droop. The snake takes a deep breath, and slides the gate open, slithering in with determination in his … er… snake body.
You follow in silence.
The snake matches your pace. “Will you be a guest at this establishment as well?” he asks you. “Or were you given the same sssssuper secret mission?” Just like before, his tongue slithers out—what a funny little odd man.
Bangs grab your attention. When you focus your vision, you see an inky shadow servant striking a nail into broken wood. “Not at all,” you say slowly. “I’m just here to visit someone.”
His flaps open, and three pairs of eyes and a hat meet yours. “I am the great Sir Pentious!” he says with a proud hand on his puffed-up chest. “Inventor. Architect of destruction. Villain extraordinaire!”
You give him your name “….Doctor.”
“It is only the coward who attacks a battler of health.” His flaps droop as he sinks into himself. “You cannot be my rival, I’m afraid.”
“I guess that makes you brave,” you say, humming. The decorations for the hotel are rather dull. Drawn on the middle of the hill, a giant pentagram is etched on the ground. The flowers dwindle on the cliff edge, and do little to combat the grayness surrounding you. “What a shame to hear—I rather love good rivalries.”
The eyes on Sir Pentious’ hat brighten at the same time his own do as well. “Ssssso do I!”
One of the inky shadow servants waves at you.
You wave back.
Light streams from the glass doors. You blink a few times, adjusting to the sudden change of brightness. Circus-themed stained glass decorate the front entrance. One of the less tacky – but still tacky – designs of this hotel.
Sir Pentious taps the glass with the tips of his finger, clinking with each tap, and his eyes water in excitement. His nose crinkles when he takes a deep breath. You weren’t aware he even owned a nose. Sir Pentious fiddles with the flap of his hat, and bangs on the door.
Your smile strains after a minute of banging.
A young lady with long, white hair creaks the door open. You recognize her from the commercial.
Sir Pentious’ flap open and close with each word as he says, “Why, hello, my dear –”
A punch to the face is his reply.
“Oh dear!” you screech. Sir Pentious drops to the ground, and you kneel next to him, a steady hand on his slimy shoulders. “Have you no manners?”
This insolent girl points her spear and stomps a foot on Sir Pentious. She snarls, and her glare hardens.
“Wait, wait, wait!” Sir Pentious’ tongue slithers out as he holds a peace-sign. “I come in peacccccceeeee”
“What are you doing here?” Her spear inches closer.
“Vaggies,” another voice calls out. A blonde with a red pantsuit and a bowtie pokes her head, eyes in a squint. O-oh! You know this lady from the commercial. The Princess of Hell … Cady … Char …Charlie Morningstar! “What’s the problem?” Charlie’s eyes widen when she spots you and Sir Pentious, an honest smile drawn on her face. “Oh, hello again! And hello to you as well!”
“Can you please tell this insolent girl to get her food off this gentleman,” you spit, tilting your nose into the air. Your feathers sharpen when you bristle. “And your weapon away from my face.”
Vaggie takes her foot off Sir Pentious. She holds the spear close, but it’s away from your face.
Sir Pentious straightens into a stand, and the group prattles on.
No one bothers to help you. A huff escapes, and you brush the dirt off your skirt. Absolutely no manners. Insolent and ill-mannered.  Would Alastor stay in such a place?
You’ve never laid an eye on someone as unique as this Vaggie. Her hair patterns are similar to wings. It’s almost unheard of to see such a prominent ‘x’. Her flared eyelashes resemble a bird. It strikes you silly. Almost everyone in hell resembles a human body with animal characteristics hidden somewhere. This insolent girl doesn’t appear to have any of that – only miniscule feathers made to appear native to Hell.
“Absolutely!” Charlie exclaims to who you think is Angel Dust. (The porn-star, not the drug. Obviously.) Sir Pentious nods with the sweetest smile on his face. There’s a squeak every time he bobs his head. That hat of his looks nervous.  “This place is about second chances and who deserves one more than this…slithery…slippery…special little man.” Charlie takes a peek at you. “Oh, and this feathery…sheddy… and round-eyed woman.”
You do not shed.
You smile at Charlie, and give her your name, “…and I expect it to be used.”
Angel Dust whips to Vaggie. “Aren’t you supposed to protect this place?” he says and turns to you. “How are we even sure we can trust this lady – no offense, toots.”
“None taken,” you say, dryly.
Charlie’s eyes water when she turns to Vaggie, who easily relents with a sigh.
You’re thrust through the apple and circus-themed doors, squinting at the chandelier. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the design—it reminds you of those old rolled films. Charlie leads you and Sir Pentious further down the hall, all but pushing you in. Vaggie and Angel Dust lag a few steps behind.
Charlie waves her arms to go into an enthusiastic point. “So…this is our bar,” she says. Husk drops his drink, a scowl on his face, “and the bartender. This is the curtain, and this is the new wall after Sir Pentious broke the last one. And this is—”
Vaggie calms her down.
The bar clashes with the red wallpaper of the hotel. It’s almost as if someone just dropped it there, and etched it to the very wall. The wood is firm underneath your touch and feels exactly like what wood should feel.
You turn towards the bar and take your seat. Husk focuses on his drink. “Hello,” you say with a gentle voice that should not be mistaken for kindness. “It’s good to see you, old friend.”
Husk chokes and splatter out his drink, but you only smile at him. He coughs and his ears droop low. “Uh…yes,” he starts. “Good to see you as well.”
“There’s no need to be nervous.”
“I’m not.”
 “Good.”
You run your finger across the skeleton wrapped around the bar post. A memory tickles your brain. This is one of the many specimens you owned. It took one whole month to strip the muscle off its tight hold on the bones, and another month just to clean, bleach, and wire together. The heads above the bar sign were a gift to you, and the skeletons were your gift back.
The neural spine pokes your finger as you tap each one. “I see you’ve set up shop here.”
Husk scowls, taking another swig of his drink. “Not much of a choice.”
“And tell me,” you start, “how long have you been here?”
Husk doesn’t answer you.
Charlie calls your name, and waves you over. “Over here,” she says pointing to where Niffty plays with some kind of one-eyes cat, “we have our maid—Niffty!”
Niffty hops on Sir Pentious. “The bad boy is back!” she exclaims, pulling him closer, eyes wide and shaking. A bead of sweat drops from Sir Pentious’ hat. “Never leave me again.”
“We’re about 80% sure she’s harmless….” Charlie prattles on.
“Hello, Niffty.” You smile at her.
She jumps off Sir Pentious, landing with a small ‘humph’, and strides to you with her pointy short legs. She calls out your name.
You squat, meeting her eye. “It’s great to see you again—Is Alastor forcing you here?”
Her eyes shine with an innocent type of glee. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” She claps her hands. “I get to chase all the bugs here.” Nifftly leans closer to you, giggling. “Can I be strapped to your table again? I love it when you slice me open.”
 “Maybe next ti—”
Charlie grabs your arm, hauling you forward. “Oh! Uh, Alastor! Our gracious facility manager! You've met our newest guest Sir Pentious…hehe…,” she tells him. Charlie keeps pulling you, only stopping when you stand before a grand staircase. “These two will be our special wonderful guests!”
Alastor does little to show you what he feels, there’s just that same empty grin.
He bought a new coat, you note. This new one has white streaks on the new collar and less stripes. Guess some things were more important than others.
You slip out of Charlie’s tight grasp. “I think you’re mistaken, my dear,” you say. “I’m not a guest— just a visitor.”
You hold your husband’s gaze and greet him.
ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ
“It’s good to see you,” you say, a smile drawn on your lips. “How are you doing on this wonderful morning?”
Alastor turns to you, drops an item into his grocery basket, and blinks. “I am amazing!” he says. He grabs your hand with his gloved ones and shakes it. His hands are warmer than you expect them to be. “Alastor. Pleasure to be meeting you. Quite the pleasure.”
You chuckle at him. “Yes, I’m aware of who you are.”
“Oh, how lovely!” He waves his fingers. “ are you on of my many fans?” His smile strains, and there, you see it, on the corner of his cheek. His nose flares and his smile takes the appearance of a snarl. Maybe it was the other way around.
“A bit,” you admit, adjusting your hold on the basket. “How are your stitches, Sir?”
His eyes widen—brown eyes, you note. “The good doctor!”
“I think you mean the good nurse.”
“Oh yes, yes,” he hums and inches the basket away from your gaze. “I’ve been taking my medicine, and replacing my dressing every three days, just like you said.”
“Good—that’s great to hear. No more accidents?”
“None!” He laughs. “And if one does happen, I’ll be sure to present you with an injury that is only hours old.”
A giggle slips through your lips. “That’s even better to hear,” you say. You clear your throat, tightening the hold on your basket. “I’d hate to take even more of your time. I’ll let you go on with your day.”
A firm grip on the basket handles keeps your feet planted on the glossy floor of the general store. “Not so fast, my dear. I think you still owe me,” he says. Your teeth bare into what you hope is a polite smile. “You promised to show me your marvelous embroidery the next time we meet! You’re not the type of lady to go back on your word now, are you?
“You sure do know how to put such ladies into a tight spot.”
Alastor laughs, breathy and light. “I assure you; I don’t mean to. I tend to get very excited about art
“Well, with you holding my integrity hostage, and the addition of such lovely enthusiasm, I find myself having trouble refusing.” You reach into your purse and pull out a clean handkerchief. “Sadly, I wasn’t expecting the general storm to be an art gallery, so this will have to do.”
And there it is again, that same breathy and light laughter. “They really do have everything in here
Alastor takes your handkerchief with steady enthusiasm, studying each stitch carefully. It’s one of your simpler designs—tiny flower bouquets scattered across the fabric. Your eyes are drawn to the contents of his basket: rope, strong acids, latex gloves, rolls of plastic wrap, and other such interesting items.
“You have such beautiful handiwork.”
“You can keep it if you wish,” you tell him. “I have thousands back home, and I’m always weak to such flattering compliments— a real boost to my ego.”
“Splendid!” Alastor slips the handkerchief into his coat. “I love receiving gifts from fans.”
You smile at him to hide your frown. You are not some fan-girl. “Of course.”
Alastor is following you.
The conversation ended several beats of silence ago, but he trails behind your every step. You skip the aisle where they sell produce, stop to grab some eggs, ask the butcher for 50g of chicken liver, and smile back when he smiles back. You sigh and lead Alastor to the end of the general store, and into an aisle.
You snatch a glass bottle of chemicals off the shelf—they really do have everything here. “Going for a hunt soon?” you ask, and read the label.
His smile brightens as he says, “Why yes! There was this wonderful prey that I spotted the other day, and I’m just dying to have his head hanging on my wall.”
You offer him the bottle. “You have a lovely coat. It would be a shame for it to be ruined by stains,” you say. “This always does the trick when dealing with the redder parts of my job.”
He takes the bottle from you.
“Take this as well,” you say and reach into your basket. “It’s the last bottle of 12% hydrogen peroxide in this store, but you need it more than I do. A ratio of fifty-fifty of this and a bit of hair developer in a bucket of water should brighten up your bones. Just let it soak for a day. Oh…and just in case, those two chemicals are safe to mix. You should avoid doing so, but an accident wouldn’t hurt you.”
Alastor offers his basket, and you drop the bottle along with the other hazardous substances. “You sound certain.”
“That is because I am.”
Fate has granted you a humorous shopping companion, and you decide to stop fighting it. Alastor follows you to the bread aisle.
You point to the top shelf. “Can you…?”
He drops the bread into your basket, and stares at you with what you think is curious tenacity.
“My father works as a butcher,” you say, sighing. “He prides himself on catching the venison he sells. We don’t believe in wasting a precious body, so we use it until there is nothing left to give. He came back from his own hunt and wanted to add another antler to his display
Alastor hums. “Won’t you need these then?”
“There’s still a bit leftover sitting in his workshop. I just came to get an extra bottle.”
Alastor continues to follow.  “Do you often aid your father in his work?”
“Not as frequent as when I was a teen, but I still aid him when I have the time to do so,” you say. “It’s how I got to be so normal around a knife —the sharp ones are the best, they cut right through the skin, and with enough force, the bones as well. I keep a little collection of bones at home.”
“Such interesting hobbies you have.”
You pick up two coffee bags and hum. “Thank you.”
His bowtie is crooked. You point to inform him and reach out to straighten it. Alastor jerks away and spins to reach into the shelf behind you. “I rather detest owing favors, and you have done me two,” he says, offering you an entirely different brand of coffee beans. “I suggest you try this one. It’s flavors are far richer.”
You offer your basket and Alastor drops it right in.
You eye his basket once more. “Will that be all you’re purchasing?”
He nods, smiling at you.
You smile back.
Well, isn’t this just lovely? Well-dressed gentlemen really are your favorite.
ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ
Charlie whips her head, mouth wide as she stares at you and then at Alastor. Angel Dust has an arm on his hips, his brows furrowed and mouth quirked to the side an awkward but rather cute frown. Sir Pentious’ hat squints at you with what you assume is confusion—you can’t really tell. Sir Pentious’s tongue sticks out of his bewildered and crooked frown. “Oh! How nice,” Charlie says after a beat. “So, you two know each other?”
“Partners,” you say
“Friends,” Alastor says
Your smile strains as you say, “To be called a friend by the Radio Demon is quite the honor.” Alastor wipes his monocle with a proud puff.
Angel Dust whistles, leaning on the railing with the first set of arms crossed, and the second propped on his hip. “Didn’t think Freak would be the type to have friends.”
“Neither did I!” You say with a loud laugh. “Well, that’s what I am – a f̵̼̎r̴͔̃i̶̦̍e̶͕͠ṋ̸̀d̶͚̋.” You smoothen your puffed-up feathers. “Apologies.”
More introductions are done. Charlie insists on giving Sir Pentious his first lesson on apology. It goes about as well as you think.
Charlie winces a bit “….Ooooookay,” she says and inhales to plaster a huge smile. “Why don’t we… uh… take a look at the kitchen!”
Angel Dust takes one look at Charlie’s enthusiasm, winces, and says he’s getting a drink.
Charlie’s death grip on Sir Pentious stays firm as you trudge to the kitchen. She stalls at every painting to explain its history, and introduces every crack on the wall, showing it off with an enthusiastic glee. Even the water-stained wallpaper gets its own special moment during the tour. (Where is that ill-mannered girl when you need her?)
You lag a few steps behind. “Alastor…”, you say as a greeting.
Alastor matches your pace, using his microphone as a cane. With the very tip of his fingers, he plucks a stray feather off your hair with a coy smile that reaches from ear to ear. “I’m sure you’ve been wondering how I’ve been fairing these last few years,” he says, spinning that microphone of his and waving his hand like some kind of street performer.
“Has it really been that long?”
“Yes, I know I’ve been absent for some time,” he starts. “It’s nothing serious; I assure you. It’s nothing I cannot handle as well.”
 “My goodness, and here I thought you were occupied at work.” Your teeth flash when you smile. “But in any case, it’s quite… kind… of you to soothe what little worry this friend might have for you.” Alastor and his microphone laugh at you, but you hum with satisfaction when his eyes narrow into a glare.
Charlie and Sir Pentious wave their hands, calling you from across the hall, and you hasten your steps.
The kitchen intimidates you. So many large and metallic machines. You’re sure it would be a living hell should you ever need to operate such an unorthodox set of appliances.
Copper-red tables fill the space, and similar colored cabinets stick to the wall. Such peculiar stoves they have in this establishment. There seems to be no space for the gas tank, nor a gas burner, just some flat glass with weird markings. You prefer the appliances stashed at your home.
“This…,” Charlie starts, winding her arms to a point, “…is the kitchen!”
Sir Pentious’ flaps extend, his arms rocking with excitement. “Such lovely metallic inventions.” He slithers to counter with a dip that appears to mimic some kind of skin. There’s some type of yellow liquid. “This bubbly torture deviccceeee is my favorite.”
“Uhhhhhh…I love that you love the kitchen appliance,” she says with an honestly gentle smile. “But that’s actually an oil fryer.” Charlie crosses her arm into a big ‘x’. “But no torturing is done here, no siree.”
“What a peculiar shape for an oil fryer to be,” you say, taking a look. Alastor glances over your shoulder to take a peek as well. “And there’s so much metal around—did you run out of paint, perhaps?”
Charlie frowns, her shoulder dropping low. “I’d love to add different colors to the machine, but Vaggie says it would take up too much money and time.”
Her frown lasts a second before she’s smiling again.
 “Oh oh oh! You should take a look around. See if there’s anything you might want to add.” Charlie drags you towards one of the cabinets at the back. “We each have a shelf dedicated to our own snacks, but I always love to leave cookies on the communal snack pantry.”
Charlie prattles on, introducing each section of the cabinet. You watch Alastor warily when he shows his teeth. He wiggles his fingers across the air, reaching towards the shelf where Charlie just mentioned Vaggie storing her personal snacks. You slam the cabinet door before he reaches them.
Soft static fills the kitchen air.
“Go on,” Charlie urges. “Take a look around – I know some species of Sinners have specific dietary needs.” She props a hand on her chin. “Like Angel! He can’t seem to be able to have any milk—I wonder why? But he just keeps drinking it anyway for some reason.”
Does the Princess of Hell not know what Lactose Intolerance is? Maybe because she’s never lived as a human. It’s quite humorous, you suppose. A hell-born trying to guide a human, with little to no insight about humanity. Could this be the reason why she’s so naively optimistic?
Sir Pentious’ smile widens, and so does his flap. “You’re… giving…me permission to poke around?”
“Er…yes?”
You open a random cabinet door, and huh…
On the shelf, towards the back, you have the same set of spices in your own kitchen. One of the bottles here has its label stained and fraying at the edges. Another bottle is nearing empty, and the corner of the cap has been chipped off. There was a time, when your own set of spices was stained with oil, and its label frayed because of the constant picking to the edges.
Yesterday, you threw out a set of unopened bottles of spices, its seal still clinging to the caps and brimming with unused flavor, and replaced it with the same set of sealed spices. It’s a waste of your money to keep throwing out something that you never use, but…but…you find it in your grocery basket every single time.
Alastor closes the cabinet with a gentle click.
Your smile fades, and he holds your gaze.
“You are shedding all over my kitchen floors.” Alastor presents you with a bundle of your feathers bunched up on his palm. His grin mocks you.
You turn away, heading where Charlie and Sir Pentious converse. You do not shed.
Alastor pops out of your shadow, towering over you as he inches closer. “Long day?” he says with a hum, that smile still on his face. “You don’t usually start molting until the mid-summer.”
“Oh yes,” you say with a hum, that frown still on your face. “This day has been quite long. How very generous of you to check up on this friend of yours.”
He holds the feathers he’s collected, examining them with a careful eye. “With this rate, you’ll be able to gift a whole pillow.”
Your frown deepens. “Lovely,” you murmur. “I’ll make sure to do so.”
Alastor twirls his microphone and lands it with a soft thunk. He studies you for a second. “Rosie’s last husband got eaten by a shark,” he says. “Not even a loan shark—just a proper dead shark. She swore vengeance on the creature for taking a bite before she had a chance to.”
“What?” you say, and you can’t help but chuckle. “Is that what happened to him? She would be so vague about it when I ask.”
Alastor draws a line along his face, mimicking a smile with his fingers. “Much better, indeed.”
Charlie insists on showing the view from the top of the Hotel. Her arms cross around your own as she chatters about everyone and everything. It’s refreshing to meet a soul as honest as hers.
The elevator ride is painfully slow. The music strains your ears, and this battered metal death box jerks with every floor.
Sir Pentious and his hat scowl at the ‘absolutely inferior ssssmmelting of this handle, Charlie’ and ‘this piss poor wiring. The endsss are not aligned to the proper sssssafety guidelineeeesss’ or something.
Charlie listens in on every word, nodding to indicate that she hears each and everyone. It makes you smile. Alastor picks at your stray feathers with the tip of his fingers, preening the areas you have difficulty reaching.
Moments too late, the elevator doors open with that heavenly ding.
“The view up here is helltastically a-mazing!” Charlie informs the group. “Alastor, you often hide up here or inside the radio tower. It’s really good, right?”
Alastor switches his hold on the microphone, swinging to catch it. “Quite helltastic indeed!” he says. “ I get to see the whole city underneath my very feet.”
Sir Pentious nods. “I, too, would love to sssseee the city underneath me!”
Alastor swings a door open, gesturing for the group to enter like a gentleman.  Charlie whispers an audible ‘awww’ at the sight and saunters right in. Sir Pentious follows along, slithering behind her.
He shuts the door when you take a step forward, separating you from Charlie and Sir Pentious.
There’s still that never ending smile on his lips as Alastor strides to the other end of the hallway, playing with his microphone. You follow behind in silence. Alastor opens a different door, and this time, you step through.
Alastor closes the door, leaving you and him together, alone, on this flimsy balcony. He beams at you, taking a step forward—
You slap him.
Radio static glitches from his microphone. There, on the corner of his cheek, you see the strain in his smile. His eyes harden into a glare, his nostrils flare, and his smile takes on the appearance of a snarl.
The air around you starts to gray with static. Symbols carve themselves into the space.
You slap him again, staring down at him.
“Is that all you came to do?” Alastor says to you with a low snarl, but the symbols dissolve and his antlers shrink.
You turn towards the view, propping a hand on your chin. “Such harsh words for a friend,” you say with a sarcastic smile. “It’s a wonder why you don’t have more with such a dazzling personality. At any rate, it’ll be impossible to find yourself a wife.”
His eyes twitch, and Alastor strikes the ground with his microphone. “Well, consider it an honor,” he says, inching closer, mimicking your smile. “Not many can say such words to me, much less be able to strike my flesh
“Maybe they should—someone certainly has to.”
Alastor still has a smile—he always has a smile. You watch as his eyes morph into radio dials, and the absolute audacity of that man to look at you like that.
Your feathers sharpen and crack at the sight. “D̷̝̈́o̷̞͊n̷̟̂'̷̗̏ť̵͔ ̴̱̀f̷̳̓u̴͍̓c̷̛͕ḳ̵͝ ̴̲̽w̸̞̑í̵̞t̴̼̐ḥ̷͝ ̵̫͌m̸̻̔e̸̡͘!— you never have, so don’t start. Don’t test me—not today, my deerest,” you say, hissing at him. 
“What is it that you want, exactly?” he says, glancing down at you. “Unless you are a child, I expect you to use your words.”
“You know I’m not just some friend — you do not allow yourself to make such connections. We’re partners,” you tell him, and you don’t know why you remind him when he should already know. Was it in fear that he forgot? “But you left without as much as a word.”
“Was it that I left? Or was it that I left you?” Alastor says with casualty as if to show you such dismissal, and oh…yes, your husband can be a cruel man, indeed. Time and sweet smiles made you forget.
You rub your hands on your face, taking one deep breath. “I want what I deserve—an explanation,” you say. “That’s all I need as your wife.”
It’s his silence that makes you turn away. 
“I see…” Your face falls. “Perhaps, it was a mistake to seek you out. A fool’s errand.”
You study the sinners below. The whole city really can be seen from underneath your very feet. (You ignore the trembling of your fists. You’re a doctor, for fucks sake. Your hands don’t tremble…at least, they never have before.) 
Hesitant, but gentle touches pick at your feathers. Alastor preens you with warm hands. “You are not a fool, my love,” he says. “I would not be yours if such were the case.”
You harden your heart for you cannot let this man see the cracks. “This is not what I wish to hear,” you say, voice steady.
Alastor does not answer you.
“Will you just stay silent every time?”
“Yes.”
Finally, you meet his gaze. You hold it as much as he holds yours. “ There is not a thing in this world that you do not do without reason,” you say slowly. “However,  I’m not sure if your silence is because you cannot or if it’s because you will not explain yourself to me. Which is it?”
There is nothing on his face that you can read, just a small steady smile that tells you nothing. “I will not.”
“I know you, my deerest, and I know that you’ve never once led me astray.” Your grip on the railing tightens painfully. This day has been long. “Then all I need is your word that you will return to me with that smile of yours when you’ve accomplished what you need to do.”
Alastor smiles at you, twirling his microphone. “We can even shake on it.”
You shake your head. “This is not a deal,” you say. “This is your wife demanding that you do so.”
“Then it shall be done,” Alastor says, inching close enough for his warmth to spread.  He turns to you and pokes his cheeks to indicate a smile. "You look much more radiant with one."
You bare your teeth at him, giving a dry smile. “Much better?”
“Indeed.”
You study the sinners below once more, but this time your hands stay steady next to Alastor’s own. Well, Charlie was correct, the view is helltastic. The entertainment district blinds you, but only for a second. And when you sharpen your vision, you can faintly make out acid clouds forming on the outskirts of the city. You should have grabbed an umbrella on your way out.
“I heard you on the radio today,” you say.
He glances at you, his smile widening ever so slightly with smugness. “And you came all this way for me?”
“Well, that is what good friends do for each other.”
Alastor points his nose to the air with a huff.
“I only jest, my deerest,” you say, chuckling at him. “ I came all the way here to see if I’ve been widowed a second time, or just dumped like a common rag.”
“Is that so?”Alastor hums with dissatisfaction. “I’m sure you mentioned something about not noticing such a long disappearance.”
You hold his gaze, inching your hand to cup his cheek. You stop inches above his skin, and your palm hovers enough for Alastor to feel the warmness you hold on your hands. “Don’t pout, my deer,” you tell him, softly, oh so very soft as you caress the air. “Of course, I noticed your absence.” 
You clap your hands together with the brightest and most innocent smile you can muster.
“But if I told you that, my deerest,” you start, “I feared that big head of yours would implode if I fed your ego.”
Alastor laughs, and his real voice bleeds in as he does. “That humor of yours has been my most wonderful companion all these years.”
You smile with satisfaction. “My, my, you make such fine compliments.”
His smile relaxes. “I do, indeed!”
“Just as you say that my humor makes a fine companion,” you say as you laugh, bright and heavy, “that smile of yours has been mine.”
A knock breaks the moment.
The door swings open, slow and hesitant. Charlie pokes her head, and her hair droops to the sideways. Behind her, Sir Pentious waves at you. You wave back.
“Oooooooohhhh….yikes,” Charlie says, shrinking deeper into the door. “Am I interrupting? I could just go an—”
“Not at all my dear,” you say. “Come right in. You have such a lovely view, and things like this are better when shared.”
Charlie swings the door wider, sauntering right in, and grabs your hand, squeezing it. “You could live here as well!” she says. Behind her, Sir Pentious nods with the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen. “We accept everyone.”
You flicker your gaze to Alastor. “I already have a home,” you find yourself saying. “And this place is far too close to the city. So much honking and blasting aren’t good for my ears.”
Charlie pouts, but she doesn’t press you.
The view is better when shared. Charlie points at every detail and explains everything you see. The sky darkens to a red, and too soon, it’s time to leave.
There’s a warm, but firm, hand resting on your back when you walk out the door, down the hall, and into the elevator. Alastor keeps his hands steady, even when you reach the common room.
Vaggie is the first to greet your group—well, it’s more appropriate to say she greets Charlie, and you just happen to be there. There’s a bag by her feet. “I was able to find the costumes you need for the exercise,” she says. “Even the giant lollipop is here.”
Charlie squeals. “Thank you thank you thank you!” Her excited gaze filters to you. “I have this wonderful game in mind, and then we could fo a bit of some of that good ol’ roleplay.” Angel Dust quirks a smile from the couch. “You should totally sta—”
“I’m afraid not,” Alastor says, drumming his fingers on his microphone. “I think it’s time for our visitor to head home. She’s had quite a long day.”
“Oh, of course. No worries!” Charlie says, giving you a bright smile—a real genuine and honest smile. “Feel free to come by anytime. The Hazbin Hotel’s doors will always be open should you change your mind.”
Vaggie scratches her face. “Before you go, I want to apologize for this afternoon,” she says. “It wasn’t right of me to be so hostile—I’m sorry.”
“Thank you, my dear. I understand,” you say quickly, ignoring the static behind you. “You were protecting something you cared about. I find great value in those who do.”
Vaggie smiles, and maybe she’s not too bad after all. “Thank you.”
From the couch, Angel Dust props his legs and waves at you. “And you’re welcome to open these doors any day.”
Alastor leads you to the door. You wave back at Niffty and Sir Pentious, whose eyes water as he frowns. Alastor’s hand stays firm as you trudge down the hill, past the rusted gate, into the city, and to the correct bust stop.
“You sure know how to find the most interesting groups of people, my deer,” you say. “Charlie and that hotel of hers are wonderful.”
Alastor adjusts his monocle. “Well, you know me. I see potential, and I follow it wherever it leads.”
“Should I be worried?” you say, chuckling. “The last time you saw potential, it ended with us married.”
“Not at all, my love.”
“You should continue to stay at the hotel,” you find yourself saying. “There’s just something about it—I think you’ll pick up quite a lot from your time there.”
His bowtie is crooked. You point to inform him, and reach out to straighten it. Alastor inches closer. The fabric is smooth underneath your touch. There’s stray lint on the shoulder of his coat, and you brush that away. You grab the lapes and adjust its fit, smoothing the fabric beneath your fingers.
“Much better?” he asks.
“Indeed,” you say, softly.
“I will see you soon,” he says, and you hear the unspoken promise and question hidden beneath his words.
“Good.”
Alastor tilts your chin with the tips of fingers. (And oh…oh. His gloves are off, and his hands are warmer than ever) He presses his lips on your cheek.
That blasted bus arrives too soon. You step inside, but turn to your husband and say, “Next time, when you disappear for several years, I expect to be informed and not just left with a vague note,” you say with a huff. “And when you return, I also expect to be the first to be informed.”
“Of course.”
“See to it that you keep your word.”
The bus door closes, and you take your seat. You smile to yourself and lean back on the crusty bus fabric. Patting your pocket, you take out a single gold band, slipping it on your finger.
ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ
That habit of recklessness in moments of excitement was something your father hoped you’d grow out of. Thinking things through never really was one of your many strengths when such an exhilarating opportunity presents itself.
You scold yourself for not double-checking for gloves. Measure twice, cut one, and all that. But no matter, you’ll push through as always, clawing and digging to unearth the treasure left behind.
Your scalpel fits into your palms. Throughout this Earth, no… not just Earth, but Heaven and Hell as well, nothing will ever be as perfect.
You sigh, breathy and exhilarated, and begin.
‘First, do no harm’
But this…this does not harm a single living being.
ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ
Next Part: |Not Everything You Hear From The Radio Should Be Trusted| If you guys know who Octavia and Stolas are, that's what I imagine when I think about the reader's hair. Also, maybe some of you noticed, but I'm very relaxed when it comes to formatting my writing. Its why I use quite a lot of ellipses and em dashes and utilize italics and spaces. But the one thing I was very strict about was not to use the word, "miss". So there are no "You miss..." and "I miss..." But the words are there and spoken beneath actions and thoughts, hidden and unspoken, but known. My inbox is always open because I'd like to know what your favorite unspoken "I miss you" is/are. I have my own favorite ones as well.
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