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#honestly this isn’t something anyone would want to read
🥹 ngl i keep running back to your page, and i finally followed bc i keep forgetting, but like…
do you have more of that clone witness protection program? i just reread them AND THE THORN ONE, and i just- i gotta know au wise. How does everyone react to finding out what Fox did and what it cost him (ie. him saving Fives unintentionally got Thorn killed)
So if anyone wants to read on it, this post has all the parts linked
And love that you enjoyed the AU!! It’s one of my favorites so to hear you kept up with it makes me happy 🥹
This take is interesting to think about - honestly if we want to go this route, including all the parts above, they would found out more towards the end of the war (the beginning of the finale with Sidious)
And it goes like this
Cody has lost faith in the Republic way before Rex “died” but now he’s determined to do something about it. He has gathered all the CCs together, plus the Corrie CCs except for Fox (not that Cody didn’t invite him but he has a different mission for him and his vod’ika and also Fox couldn’t make it so he sent Stone and Thire instead), and lets them know his decision and plan to cease from Republic forces
“I’m taking my men out.”
Shock was heard in the empty silence. Bacara is the first to speak. “What about the Jedi?”
Cody shakes his head. “Whoever I grab is going with me.”
“You can’t take them all.” Neyo’s stare is hard, unyielding. Cody stares back.
“With Kenobi and Skywalker gone, the rest will follow.”
Ponds huffs out a laugh. Cody slants him a look when he bangs his hand on the table. “Count me in. Windu and I are down for a little … mutiny.” His grin is wide, fearless.
Thire taps his comm. “if you can get us a Venator, I can let Vos know to retrieve the Jedi at the Temple.”
Bly stands up, his seat clattering behind him. “Aayla and I can help with that.” He ignores the small “it’s Aayla now, is it?” behind his back. “They won’t want to leave their home without a reason.” He speaks before Cody can get any words out of his open mouth. “A solid, logical reason. You wanting to find Rex-”
“That’s not the reason I’m leaving.”
“Isn’t it?” Heads turn towards the new voice. Fox enters the small room with barely a sound, footsteps silent in his path towards his Ori’vod. “I mean,” and he chuckles harsh. “Why leave now? Why not when your General died? Or your men were ambushed? Or perhaps after Umbara when they shot each other?”
Cody grits his teeth, anger flashing across his face. His expression turns smooth a second later but every CC saw it. “Don’t talk about the war like you understand it.”
Fox tilts his head, almost offended at the implied statement. He however lets it go in pursuit of his other point. “You never cared before-”
“I always cared.”
“Until Rex’ika-”
“You have no right to call him that.”
“-went and got himself killed.”
Fox rolls with the impact Cody throws at him. His hands clutch his brother’s blacks in an awful attempt at a hug. Cody however has one hand around his neck, ready to snap. His other yanks at the chest armor, pulling Fox up just a breath. “Don’t talk about him that way.”
Fox doesn’t speak, hardly dares to breath in the face of his brother’s wrath. “Leave,” he commands to the room.
The CCs watch but don’t move until Cody yells out. “GET OUT!”
Wolffe is the first to move. Pats Cody’s back on his way out. “Don’t kill him, Vod.” Fox rolls his eyes at the unhelpful comment.
The other CCs follow him out until it’s just them. Even Thire and Stone, who passed glances at him, left.
Cody is breathing hard, his panting harsh in the room. Fox feels his hand curl against his neck and thinks how pathetic.
“Get off,” he demands and Cody snarls. Fox’ eyes flash in anger and he snarls right back.
It leads to them wrestling, Cody losing his grip on his neck and instead trying to break the bones in his arm. Fox bites at the forearm near his mouth, and tastes a hint of iron. They scratch and hit and wrestle and the anger that came from Thorn’s death leave Fox, slowly but surely. His grief replaces it fast, as does his guilt when he sees tears in Cody’s eyes.
Would Cody act this way if Fox died? Would Fox if Thorn hadn’t?
Fox finds himself hugging his Ori’vod as he sobs at the loss of Rex. Great, wracking sobs that Fox himself wishes to return. He licks his lips and shares a piece of grief. “Thorn is dead.”
“I’m sorry,” Cody mutters through stuttered breathing.
Fox however decides that it’s enough to start the conversation. “He believed in the Protection Program. Saved many Vod cause of it.” Cody listens intently, his cries mingling into silence. “Fives needed to live. We both knew that.” He hesitates before stating his opinion. “I won’t make his death go in vain by hiding.”
Cody pushes off his brother, stares up at the ceiling above them. He taps his fingers once, twice, before asking, “would Rex-”
“He’s not in it,” Fox lies through his teeth and hates the guilt that rising at it. Cody can’t know. Not yet.
It would just cause more trouble, and potentially Rex’s death. Fox can’t allow that right now. Not when Cody isn’t thinking clearly.
Cody stays silent. The moments creep by and Fox’s heart beats faster. He wonders if his Ori’vod can see through his lies.
Cody’s words break his anxiety process. “Then we kill Palpatine.” He says it nonchalantly, in response to their previous conversation.
Fox’ lips twitch. His chest hitches. And then he’s laughing before he can think. Cody turns his head, joins in when he realizes they aren’t laughing for fun.
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wandasfifthwife · 19 hours
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dude can you stop making additions to mine and other strangers posts?? it’s weird just keep your comments in the tags when you reblog other peoples stuff
okayyy dude, so
1) this would’ve been better if it were a personal dm so I can know what “mine posts” meant. it’s not very helpful for me to learn if you snap out like this but stay anonymous. It’s a lot better if you were brave enough to just talk with me personally instead of coming into my public chats (because you obviously wanted this to be posted), and you intentionally chose to add the anonymous label (as far as I know you could not be one of these accounts and could be a thirteen year old with an account w/ no posts)
2) how in the fucking world is this weird? if someone posts a thought to something, it’s PUBLIC. everyone is allowed to read something and add their own interpretation. I don’t see what the issue is? It’s “weird” for you? then just don’t post public shit and expect people to interact with it. I don’t see a label or anything anywhere that says this isn’t allowed. so sorry I take something and post my own take on it like literally 10484938583 people do on this app. maybe having a private Instagram would be better so only people who look at your posts are allowed. if you’re afraid of other’s interacting with your posts and discussing content, maybe don’t have social media?? 🤷‍♀️
3) if this is just a personal take (which I think it is) and I’m really not offending anyone by saying “I think __ would like this” (oh it’s so scary to add my own fucking thought). just scroll on istg
Sorry it’s weird for you. Next time be brave enough to stand up and tell me to stop interacting with YOUR posts only OR just block me! but I’m very positive others don’t fucking give a shit about this—only you do (which honestly is fine, just tell me personally and others too so they don’t piss you off).
also? be kind. guess you never knew this could’ve been talked about maturely. all you know about dealing with conflict is hiding behind a screen and talking with an attitude.
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marshmallow-creme · 1 year
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avis-writeshq · 2 months
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not me asking for it https://www.tumblr.com/avis-writeshq/744966259884556288/if-someone-asks-for-it-ill-write-a-fic-based-on?source=share
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pairing: s9!spencer reid x fem!reader genre: fluff, established relationship, SMUT warnings: 18+ CONTENT; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !! oral fem receiving, spencer reid is a munch, hair pulling, fingering a/n: a promise is a promise !! based off of this post <3 i hope this lived up to expectations !! first time writing fem oral ha h a ha wc: 1.1k
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Honestly, if there’s one person Spencer can blame for the situation he is currently in, he blames himself. After all, he should have known that a ‘gathering’ at Rossi’s house that was planned by Penelope would only call for a lot of teasing, a lot of ‘get to know each other!’ games (despite the fact that he has worked with this same team for more than seven years. What else is there to know?), and a lot of alcohol. He didn’t quite realise that these games would be of the drinking variety. Alas, here he is, sitting on one of Rossi’s incredibly expensive leather couches and cringing at the horrid taste of whiskey. 
The game they’re currently playing is an alcoholic’s rendition of ‘who is most likely to?’, involving a thick stack of cards with different topics while each member of the team took turns reading out. Whoever ended up with the most amount fingers pointed in their direction was forced to drink.
Spencer hates this game. He has drank from his cup a grand total of six times, and he is not getting any more used to the spicy-poison-equivalent in his hand. 
“Alright, this is a good one,” Derek announces with a manic snigger. “Who here is most likely to be a munch?”
There is no hesitation in anyone’s answers, and all six fingers point into Spencer’s direction. His jaw drops at the betrayal, his head spinning from the sheer amount of shots he had to take but also what the hell is a munch?
“I don’t even know what that means!” He insists. 
“Oh–” Penelope wears a half delighted half pitying expression at his words. “We really need to get you onto the internet more. Reddit is probably up your alley.”
“Even Rossi knows what it means,” Emily cackles, gesturing to Rossi who looks all too pleased. “Hotch was my second option though.”
Aaron shrugs, sipping at his drink. “Guilty.”
A chorus of laughs and shrieks erupt from the group, leaving Spencer even more confused. “What?”
“Don’t Google it,” JJ chimes in. “Seriously.”
Spencer nods, and although he knows that he should have taken the warning seriously, the curiosity was getting to him and he had no choice but to search it up as soon as he got home. He gets the usual answers– the etymology of the word, what it means in the Oxford Dictionary, the popularity of the word since the early 1800s, and he really doesn’t understand what the fuss is. Does the team think that he eats loudly? Or that he chews with his mouth open? His brows furrow at the unsightly thought. 
His interest soon shifts to a different a different link, namely The Urban Dictionary. He blinks, clicking on the link without much thought and– oh. He does not get much sleep that night.
*** 
Your relationship with Spencer isn’t a secret. At least, it was never supposed to be classified as such. He is simply an incredibly private person that even his closest friends don’t know that you exist. It simply never popped up in conversation– or so he says.
The relationship isn’t necessarily new either. It’s nearing the one year mark and you have gotten to the point where the two of you have been more ‘experimental’ when it comes to sex. He finds it embarrassing. You find it unsurprising that he would. You find it even more surprising when he breaks a kiss halfway to lower you onto his bed, your head falling to one of his very expensive memory foam pillows. 
“I want to try something,” he announces softly into your ear, squeezing gently at your waist and looping his fingers into his shorts. “Is that okay?”
“Yeah,” you breathe, body hot with anticipation as he pulls down your shorts. It’s only when he brings his face between your thighs do you realise what he intends to do. “Spence, you don’t have to–”
“I want to,” he repeats softly, his fingers running up and down the lacy fabric at your slit. “If you want me to stop, you can tell me.”
You shake your head immediately at that, your hands moving to his grip his shoulders. “No, I don’t want you to stop but– but Spence, this is the first time you’ve done this. It’s okay–”
“Let me do this for you,” he says, his breath ghosting against the sensitive skin of your thighs. “I’ve done my research.”
“What–”
You’re silenced as soon as he presses his lips to your cunt, only separated by your pretty lacy underwear. He groans quietly at the taste of your slick seeping through the fabric, and his hands hold onto your thighs to keep them parted. It’s so good, so good, but it just isn’t enough. He pushes the fabric to the side, watching the way it clings and sticks to your skin. 
All it takes is one swipe of his tongue on your pretty clit for his brain to grow blank. The grip he has on your thighs grow firmer and his fingers dig in hard enough to leave little marks. His nose bumps against your clit while his tongue travels against your folds. 
“You taste so fucking good,” he breathes against you, lapping at your dripping cunt. “Fuck, angel, you’re so beautiful.”
Then, he’s on you all over again. His lips wrap around your clit and he whines into you as he sucks at the bundle of nerves. Each one of his actions has your back lifting from the bed and your hands tugging at his curls, to which he responds with a quiet moan. Amidst the pleasure, your mind nags you to be gentle, and you loosen your grip despite it taking all of your self control.
“Do that again.” He says it as a demand, guiding your hands back into his hair. “Do it again, angel.”
His head is spinning and he craves for more of you, his tongue flattening against your clit over and over again. He brings his own fingers to brush against your entrance, coating them with your slick before slipping his middle finger inside. It’s only the first knuckle but it’s enough to have you squirming beneath him. He pushes further until it reaches all the way, and Spencer groans at the feeling of you tightening around him. He kisses your clit again at the same time he curls his finger inside you and it’s all too much. 
“Spence–”
You gush around his finger and he licks and laps at your pussy like he needs it to breathe. His finger curls open and closed inside you while you rock your hips against his face, your grip on his hair tightening as each second of your high passes. 
“So good,” Spencer moans, kissing your clit. “Taste so good. You can do one more, right, angel? Just one more, I promise.”
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reblogs are always appreciated !!
tagging the people who commented on the original post: @mosaicbrokenherz @doigettokeepyou @goblinintheblog @cassioxpeiaxmgg @daddytenebra @lilliumrorum @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @lightreiding
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dekariosclan · 6 months
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NSFW Gale Headcanons (18+)
Some (soft and sexy) thoughts about being loved by the Wizard of Waterdeep…
Gale doesn’t “dabble” in things. He has no interest in being a Jack of All Trades. No, Gale wants to master things. He wants to be the best at things: Magic, the Weave, Wizardly knowledge, etc. For him, true joy isn’t in trying something different, but in becoming an expert in his favorite subject. And guess what? His new (and permanent!) favorite subject is YOU.
Gale, while waxing poetic, has often compared himself to a book: “I require only your gentle hands to turn my pages.” And this is true of how he thinks of you, as well. You are his most treasured Tome, one that he intends to study thoroughly again and again, delighting at finding new passages that he may have overlooked, or finding new meaning in a sentence he’s read a thousand times before. And like a beloved novel written by a favorite author, he will never grow tired of reading you.
But he wants more than to just understand you. He wants to know how to captivate you, the way that you’ve captivated him, body and soul. He loves you more than anyone, and he wants to show you, in more ways than just words and professions of love will allow.
He wants to know exactly how to pull you into an embrace and where to place his lips on your neck to make you shiver. What words to whisper into your ear to make your knees go weak. He wants to know what secret fantasies you have, no matter how outlandish they may seem, because aren’t you clever? You’ve gone and made a wizard fall in love with you, and nothing is impossible for a man who can craft illusions with his hands—nevermind what he can do with his tongue.
And Gale wants to indulge you. He wants to please you, because he will never grow tired of seeing the endless depths of love and adoration in your eyes when you look at him. Something he never saw, no matter how hard he looked, or how long he looked, into Mystra’s eyes.
One important note: Gale is a monogamous lover. He is not a boring lover.
He wants to know how to make you cum the fastest. How to make you cum the hardest. He wants to make you scream his name so loudly that the Gods can hear it. He loves to taste you, after a grueling trek, after a cleansing bath, in the night or in the morning. He’s made it his personal mission to worship your body in every way possible.
Gale will run his fingers (and lips) gently over your scars. He doesn’t find them to be imperfections. They are key chapters in the story of you, and all the more precious because they make you real. A real human with real flaws, just like him.
Lingerie will be met with an appreciative rumble from Gale, (he always enjoys discussing what’s on your hind—ah, MIND…) but he honestly finds you gorgeous in all states: Dirty or clean. In or out of your armor. Naked or clothed.
He rather likes it when you tease him, especially on the battlefield, when his eyes are already drawn to you like a moth to a flame. The way you position yourself a certain way to allow him to see a hint of your naked thigh under your armor is always…appreciated.
But if you really want to drive him wild? Buy him a book detailing some new positions for lovemaking that you think he would be interested in (and that you haven’t tried yet) then watch as his eyes roll back in his head with pure lust. And if it’s a first edition copy? He might actually pass out as all the blood leaves his head for…another part of his body.
After you both have worn yourselves out reenacting the positions described, and often (at your insistence) more than once, he’ll lie awake thinking about how much he adores you until you both drift off to sleep.
And then…at other times…
…he’ll lie awake and stare up into the cosmos, his arm around you as you sleep with your head on his chest, and he’ll think of how he once dreamed of becoming a God. And how it was you, and the thought of losing you, that stopped his foolishness, and allowed him to rewrite his story. To prevent it from becoming a tragedy.
Then he’ll press a kiss into your hair, softly, so as not to wake you, and thank all the Gods above that he’s not one of them.
He couldn’t imagine how unbearable eternity would have been, if it meant he couldn’t have you.
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sanakiras · 3 months
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IN THE DARK CORNERS
PAIRING — kim mingyu x reader | choi seungcheol x reader
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WORD COUNT — 2.2k
SYNOPSIS — mingyu used to be your lover. now he has to watch from the sidelines as you’ve moved on to someone else.
TAGS — once again a college au, fem!reader, jealousy, explicit sexual content, voyeurism, pretty much just porn with no plot, semi-public sex, dom!cheol, read at ur own risk !!
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mingyu would overall consider himself to be a smart guy.
he never needs to put a lot of effort into his classes to pass them, he’s quick-witted and pays attention to detail. everyone around him has always praised him for his intelligence.
but right now, he feels stupid. he has for a while at this point.
his jaw is clenched as he leans against the wall with a cup of beer in hand. normally he very much enjoys the parties hosted by his friends — today is a different case.
it’s not just anything that’s making him feel this way.
at the other side of the crowded, warm room stands his former teammate choi seungcheol. he was their team captain up until last year, having to resign from the position after suffering a leg injury, and he apparently hasn’t felt the need to return to the football team yet despite his leg being all healed up.
choi seungcheol is a nice guy. he can also be real damn scary if he wants to be.
he’s about two years older than him. mingyu found he was always easy to get along with — until two days ago, when he discovered you out of all people had started dating him.
you. his ex-girlfriend. you broke up with him a while back after a fight he honestly can’t even remember the words nor the cause of. it was bullshit. something that shouldn’t have happened but did.
somehow, he’d let you slip through his fingers. like many people, he failed to realize what he had until it was gone. failed to see the signs he was supposed to see until it was too late. he feels stupid because he’s always so fucking smart — until the one time he wasn’t.
he tried to get you back. you wouldn’t let him.
now all he can do is stare at you from the other side of the room and watch you kiss a guy that isn’t him. you’re all over him, sitting on his thigh, and he’s constantly got his hands on you, arm looped around your waist, fingers rubbing your clothed skin.
wonwoo suddenly comes up to him, nudging him in the side. “are you trying to kill the guy by looking at him?”
“hm?”
“seungcheol. green with envy much?”
mingyu shrugs. “maybe.”
“well, you’d probably be smart to make it less obvious,” wonwoo remarks before leaving, “for your own sake.”
the words leave a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. he wishes he could just stop looking at the two of you, wishes he could just stop thinking about it for a damn second.
he’s certainly not a lightweight, but even he suffers the consequences of taking too much alcohol. his head feels fizzy, and he loses focus for a second, only to realize you and your boyfriend are gone from your places by the couch.
looking around frantically, he suddenly catches the glimpse of the little red dress you’re wearing at the other side of the room — you’re going upstairs with him.
and he finds himself desperately eager to follow you. that’d be so wrong though, wouldn’t it? he’s not some stalker, obviously. he just wants to check things out.
or so he convinces himself.
his brain is against it, his heart has other plans.
his legs seem to have their own will. before he can stop himself, he’s walking up the stairs, cursing to himself when the hallway is somewhat empty — until he hears the noise of something clattering onto the floor two rooms further.
taking a few steps into the direction of where the sound came from, he briefly looks behind him to check whether anyone’s there, proceeding when there isn’t.
the moment he pushes the door open just a bit further, he spies the office supplies carelessly thrown on the floor, his ears catching onto the familiar sound of your soft laughter.
he takes a step forward, detecting motion at the other side of the bookcase. he’s able to hide right behind it, watching you lie down on the wooden surface from the open cracks of the shelves.
the tight dress on your body is hiked up by your boyfriend as his hands roam all over your body, the sounds of your shared kisses making mingyu feel warm, his cheeks flushing, adrenaline rushing through his veins.
he knows how much you love a good make-out session — he also knows you like to speed things up a little when you need to be touched.
he’s frozen in his spot behind the bookcase when he hears you let out those needy whimpers that would turn any man on like crazy.
“shit—i should probably be quiet.” you giggle with your hand half over your mouth while cheol has you pinned underneath him, right on top of the desk.
“i’d love to see you try.” he mutters to you, fingers already hooking on the fabric of your matching lacy, red panties.
the worst part is that mingyu remembers that pair — one of his favorites. you look stunning in that little red set.
but your new boyfriend doesn’t appear to be paying that much attention to your lingerie. you’re both panting, all hot and heavy, clearly not in the mood to take things slow right now.
he sinks down to his knees on the floor, fingers harshly digging into your thighs as he spreads your legs to give him the access he wants, and you so eagerly let him.
“so gorgeous, baby.” cheol whispers to you before burying his lips and nose into the wetness pooling between your legs.
mingyu feels himself growing harder when he hears you cry out, your back arching off the cold desk, his teeth digging into his lower lip.
with your dress pushed up to your upper chest and your panties discarded on the floor, you gasp for air, fingers pulling on his dark strands of hair. you won’t last long if he keeps this up.
the first loud noise escapes you when he suddenly slips his finger into you. “cheol!”
the man between your legs shows his disapproval. “c’mon, baby, keep quiet for me. you want me to keep going, right?”
“yeah, yeah—” you nod almost desperately, “—‘m sorry.”
he cocks his head as if to say, that’s what i thought.
sly fucker.
he’s got you in the palm of his hand though — especially when he dives right back in, eager to see you fall apart while pumping his fingers in and out of you.
mingyu is so lost in the sight that his hand travels down to his belt buckle almost automatically. he’s so rock-hard in his pants that he could cry.
it doesn’t take cheol long to get you so worked up that you’re about to cum — which is exactly when you beg for him to fuck you instead, claiming you just need him inside you.
and your boyfriend happily obliges.
with your legs hoisted over his shoulders, he hovers above your body, watching the way you gasp and whimper when he pushes himself inside you.
“so full, cheol—” you moan once he’s nearly balls deep inside you, biting your lip to keep the noise down.
“you can take a little more though, can’t you, sweetheart?” your boyfriend asks teasingly, the subtle mocking undertone making you shiver. you love it when he’s all dominant and cocky like this, and you love to play into it.
a lazy smile appears on your face. “depends on how hard you give it to me.”
he smirks, biting his plump lip as he picks up the pace. you hold onto him, relishing in the sound of his moans by your ear.
“always so greedy,” cheol muses, eyes shining as he scans your figure, “always wanting more.” he pushes into you with the last syllable, unable to hold down a grin at how breathlessly you gasp.
oh, the guy gives it to you good. something you absolutely deserve — mingyu just wishes it was him giving it to you instead.
he hates it. he hates how pretty you look in his arms, under him. he hates how you both look so fucking perfect. he hates how dirty and perverted he feels.
he hates that the thrill of possibly getting caught makes him harder.
he watches as seungcheol takes you fast and hard, his hand pumping his own cock at the same pace. your body welcomes the muttered sentences of praise; pulling his body as close as physically possible, spreading your legs a little wider, fingers digging into his back a little deeper.
mingyu knows you love your praise just as much as a bit of force, and your boyfriend seems to know it too. he leaves red marks over your body, sucking at your skin, pulling out for a moment to shove his fingers back in instead.
you’re a whiny, moaning mess as three of his long fingers pump in and out of you. “thought i told you to keep it down.”
“fuck—just feels so good, cheol—”
“i know, pretty girl. you’re doing so good.”
god, you’re just so engulfed in your need to be filled up that you’re willing to do anything for the man currently in between your legs, and he fucking knows it.
mingyu is obsessed with the way your cunt sucks in his fingers so easily. he can literally hear how wet you are — cheol’s quick fingers are squelching into your heat, thumb circling over your clit until all you can do is make sweet sounds into his mouth.
it all gets too much, and your hand reaches down to take a hold of his wrist, but his movements don’t falter. it takes less than a minute before you cum on his fingers, desperately clinging onto him. sharp overstimulation hits your body when he pushes his cock into you again, not allowing you to come down from your high.
the feeling makes you go insane. you clench on him as a reflex, and he groans in response because you’re just so damn tight, almost suffocating him.
his big hands are grabbing your waist, basking in the feeling of your warmth wrapped around him. you notice through your bliss that he’s getting more desperate, movement more erratic, kisses sloppier, breathing heavier — how you love seeing him fall apart.
“takin’ me so well.” he smiles, biting his lip as you rake your nails over his abdomen.
“mhm. ‘s all for you, baby.”
he physically can’t not cherish the way you gaze at him so lovingly while getting your back blown out. if anything, it’s a talent. “yeah? such a good girl for me.”
you capture his lips in another kiss, one that’s a little sweeter than before. his hair is soft, the roots of his strands a bit damp from the sweat, but you don’t care.
you’re mewling in your spot on the desk, every other thought you ever had thrown out the window. all you can focus on is cheol fucking you like his life depends on it.
his chest is then pressed up against yours, his one hand on the back of your head, holding you still and close while he gives you hard and deep strokes.
“shit.” he curses, getting closer now that you’re tightening up more.
he’s reaching down to touch your clit again, rubbing the sensitive spot, causing you to buck your hips against his.
“cum with me, cheol.” you beg him, your sharp nails digging into his shoulder blades, which always works well on him — it makes him so utterly weak.
it brings mingyu just as close to his release. he’s so lost in his lust that it almost feels like you’re saying the words to him and not seungcheol, so he lets his back rest against the wall as he gets himself off at the pleasure of watching you.
“i’m so close, baby.” cheol mutters, his thick brows knitting together once he throws his head back in pleasure.
your body shakes as you come undone underneath him, your arms wrapped around his back. your boyfriend can’t hold back any longer when he feels you hit your peak — his hips stutter, eyes squeezed shut as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, muffling his moans.
your secret spectator has to cover his mouth to avoid making any noise. his balls are tightening, sweat beading at the nape of his neck right before he pathetically cums in his pants, some of his release dripping on the floor.
his own chest still heaves as his eyes find the little drops of sweat rolling down cheol’s back, his eyes moving down to the sight of your boyfriend pulling out of you, leaving a trail of his cum seeping out of your pussy.
the sight is enough to make him hard again.
you’re panting in your place on top of the desk, still coming down from your high before your boyfriend speaks up — but his words aren’t directed at you.
“did anyone ever tell you it’s rude to stare?”
mingyu’s heart drops in his chest. shit, was it that obvious? he thought he did a good job at being relatively quiet.
now he’s left with two options of what to do next. either he owns up to it or gets the fuck out of here.
and he thinks to himself, fuck it. not like the situation could get any worse anyways.
so he steps forward, into the light.
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thanks for reading! let me know if u liked it x
® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.
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eetherealgoddess · 3 months
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TR: ꨄYANDERE TOXIC BF HEADCANONSꨄ
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Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader
Characters are 18+
❦All I gotta say is NEVER try to leave these mfs❦
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Not fully proofread
MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!
Notice:
✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.
✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.
✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.
✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.
✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable
✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.
Enjoy!
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Mikey: When you first got together, you honestly had no idea he returned the same feelings as you considering he always wore the same stoic expression whenever you were around. So focused on his family and friends he barely had enough time to spend with you.
Of course, you had no problem with this considering it was not only the beginning of your relationship but better for him to be stuck on family than other lovers. It only became a problem when he didn’t bother to make time with you at all. Not a hang out, date, nothing.
He barely texts and would leave you on delivered quite often. When you tried to initiate quality time, he would either have an excuse or ignore you. He never really showed you off and you doubt anyone would know about you if you hadn’t shown up to one or two meetings.
You wondered why he even accepted your proposal to be his girlfriend in the first place if he didn’t really want you. Finally, tired of everything, you decided to break up with him, face - to - face.
“You’re breaking up with me?” He questions with disbelief. “Yes, Mikey. I do have feelings for you, but this just isn’t working out like I thought it would.” You explained, disappointed with how things turned out.
“You can’t break up with me. I thought you loved me, Y/n. You can’t leave me.” His eyes narrow as he shoves you against the wall. Your eyes widen in shock as your back hits against the hard surface. “M-Mikey, what’s wrong with you? I thought this would be something you wanted!” His hands tighten around your shoulders, nails piercing through the fabric as you wince from the penetration of your skin.
“You’re mine, Y/n.” You had no idea what all he went through to get you to notice him. First, he had to get rid of your ex boyfriend. When threatening him didn’t work, his gang jumped him, beating him to a pulp. Hence the break up text. Honestly, if your ex hadn’t given in, it would’ve been his own death sentence. Next, was ‘accidentally’ meeting you just after the break up, catching you when you’re vulnerable enough to fall for any kind of attention. Third, getting you to chase him by the ‘hot and cold’ behavior. Giving you a little just to give you absolutely nothing in return so you keep yearning for him.
He was so happy when you asked him out, non stop talking about you to all of his friends and family. His plan worked perfectly, until now. “This doesn’t make any sense, Mikey!” You cried out in confusion and slight fear. “It’s not hard, Y/n. I love you and you’re my girlfriend.” He releases you with a smile, gazing at the concerned expression on your face. He gently grabs your hand. “I forgive you.” He brings your hand to his lips and leaves a peck. You begin to question his insanity as well as your own.
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Kazutora: “If you actually loved me you’d let it go!” He says, tears threatening to fall out of his eyes as he blocks you from slamming your bedroom door against his face. “If you actually loved me then you wouldn’t have cheated on me, Kazu!” You yell angrily as you wipe your tears. You cross your arms as you glare at your boyfriend who’s about to be your ex.
“I didn’t cheat on you! You’re overreacting! We didn’t even have sex!” You scoff. “So I guess I can just flirt with my exes and then complain about our relationship to them, huh?” He glares with tears in his eyes. “It’s your fault for not paying attention to me, Y/n. I wouldn’t have to ask for affection if you’d give me enough.” He crosses his own arms. You stare back in disbelief.
“Are you seriously trying to make excuses for emotionally cheating on me with your ex?” “It’s not excuses when it’s the truth. I just wished you loved me as much as I love you. You clearly don’t care about me otherwise you’d give me attention.” You hold your hands up. “I’m fucking done.” You say before walking out of the bedroom. His eyes widen as his heart begins to pound.
“Done with what?” He follows after you. “Done with you!” You growl as you grab the doorknob. Before you can open the door, you’re yanked back so roughly that you fall on your ass, staring at the man crawling on top of you and pinning you down as the tears spill out of his eyes.
“Y-you can’t leave me, Y/n. You won’t! I love you so fucking much! If you really loved me, you wouldn’t leave so don’t break my heart. I don’t know what I would do.” You stop yourself from crying with him, gazing at his pretty, pitiful face. No, I can’t fall for it.
“No, get off of me.” You hiss. You furrow your brows as his face becomes stoic with wide wet eyes. He wraps his hands around your neck, your hands grabbing his wrists as he shuts off your air supply. You struggle to breathe as you kick your feet, barely moving under him as you try to shove him off, to no avail.
“Baby, I don’t want to kill you, but if you don’t show me that we can work this out then I’ll have no choice. It’ll be so romantic, you and me. You die by my hands and I die right after so we can lie here together.” You immediately nod your head.
“W-we can!” You croak out, finally gaining a huge breath of oxygen once he releases you and wraps his arms around your body, hugging you tightly. You cough as the tears finally spill.
“Tell me you love me, I need to hear it please.” He cries against your shoulder, leaving a trail of kisses up your neck. “I love you.” He rocks you both as he kisses your forehead. “Good. Good. I’m so glad because I love you too.”
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Ran: You couldn’t believe how your boyfriend Ran would blatantly flirt with different people in front of your face. It didn’t matter if it was a cashier, waitress, waiter, your friends, his friends, anyone who was around he would begin to flirt with them as you watch angrily. What makes it worse is that, he doesn’t seem to care much when you react. He just gives you that sly smile and says, “You jealous?” Otherwise he’ll pretend he doesn’t know what you’re talking about.
At the beginning of your relationship, it didn’t matter so much considering you only just began dating and neither of you knew how serious it would turn out so you didn’t want to be ‘overbearing,’ even though deep down you knew that it’s not you overreacting but it just goes to show how little respect he has for you. Especially since you’re a year into the relationship, and you’re currently on a date with your boyfriend and apparently the waitress who just decided to sit in the same booth.
You missed the way his eyes would peek over to see exactly how you were feeling, finding delight in the fact that you were so bothered over his attention focusing on someone else. It was his own little experiment. Considering he loves attention, specifically from you, it really sends blood to his cock to see your angry face. The fact that you would get so mad that you would yell at him afterwards only turned him on. He gets off to seeing you angry, upset, whatever as long as it’s toward him. And you continuously take it because you can’t get enough of him.
Finally, you shoot up from the table and walk off, walking towards his car. He follows you, hopping into the driver’s seat as you sit with your arms crossed in the passenger’s seat. He begins to drive you to his apartment, holding back his smirk.
“I think we should break up.” His grip on the wheel tightened, his eyes narrowing before he glances at you. “No you don’t.” You turn to him. “You can’t tell me how I feel. Take me to my apartment. I’m tired of your behavior. You wanna flirt with everyone so bad then you can be single.”
There was a moment of silence, a pause of pondering as he stares at the road. This wasn’t a part of the plan. This has never happened before. Usually you let it go after an argument and you both make up in the bedroom. “We’re done, for good.” Something snaps in him, squinting his eyes as he slams on the brakes in the middle of the road, your body thrown against the seatbelt as your eyes widen. You grab onto the door as you look at him. “What the fuck, Ran?”
He then slams on his gas pedal and takes a different turn, taking the interstate and accelerating the speed as his foot presses the gas pedal. “RAN! SLOW DOWN!” You scream in terror as you watch his speed go from 40 to 100 within seconds, only continuing to go higher as he passes the cars, purposefully going lane to lane to make it worse for you.
“Not until you take it back.” You gasp. “Are you fucking crazy? You’re gonna kill us!” He chuckles before frowning and glancing at you. “Doesn’t matter if you don’t take it back.” “Ran, please!” You cry as you see his speed reaching 130. “Take it fucking back, Y/n.” He growls. “I take it back! I take it back! Please, just slow down! I-I made a mistake just, please!” Finally, he gradually slows down, hitting his brakes as you breathe heavily, body still trembling when he finally slows down to five over the speed limit.
“Let’s head home so we can rest, yeah?” You nod your head, gripping the seat as you look ahead.
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Rin: You’re so tired of the constant nitpicking of your flaws. You’re tired of receiving insults by the person who’s supposed to love every part of you. You have the understanding that obviously, just stating an opinion or giving critique to something is fine but when someone is just outright picking every single thing they can see wrong with you, it can be overwhelming.
Then when you try to leave they make you feel like you can’t live without them. How can you handle everything on your own when you can’t even handle little things. You’re a bit of a dimwit who can’t do things on your own so how would you be able to survive without the help of your generous boyfriend?
Rin makes you feel like you’re holding him back. He takes the time out of his day to help you out. To be there for you. How could someone like him go out of his way to help someone as low as you? Who else would deal with you. Who else would be there to help and protect you? Who else would be there to look after you because clearly you can’t look out for yourself.
Of course, your friends tell you how it’s all an illusion and he’s manipulating you. You believe them, but you believe him as well. Until, finally you decided that you didn’t want to feel like shit anymore. So you ask him to come to your apartment.
“Rin, I don’t like the way you make me feel. I love you, but I don’t think that this is working out.” One of his eyebrows raise as he leans back in his seat on the chair in the living room, taking a sip of his beverage and readjusting his glasses. “You think I like the way you make me feel? You think you can just use me and leave, Y/n?” Your eyes widen. “N-no! It’s not like that! I never used you.” “Oh? How did you get everything you own now? How did you get the clothes you’re wearing, the money in your bank account, the apartment you couldn’t afford if it wasn’t for me?” He smirks.
You could only stare as you pause in thought. Damn, have I been using him? But I never asked for any help and I was grateful and I truly love him. Have I been so mindless? So unaware? “You really hurt my feelings, babe. How could you do this to me?” He questions, his smirk turning to a stoic gaze. “Rin, it’s not like that, seriously. Look, I just want to be treated better. So we can’t be together anymore.” He sets the cup down, gripping the chair arms as he sits up in his seat, his arms resting on his legs when he releases.
“This isn’t over until I say it’s over. After all, you need me. You should be happy that I’m willing to stay with you after everything you’ve put me through.” “But-!” “Look, I’m going to give you some space to breathe and then we’re going to go on a date. It’s okay, Y/n. Really. I forgive you.” “Rin, I’m serious! I-I’m breaking up with you.”
You yelp as you duck your head just as the glass shatters from the cup, liquid oozing down the wall behind you. You look at him with your mouth agape. He stands up, brushing himself off with a bored look on his face. “I’m gonna pick you up at seven o’clock. Be ready for me, yeah?” He says, giving you a side eyed glance before walking to your front door and walking out, shutting the door behind him as you’re left gazing at the space in front of you in shock.
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Sanzu: “Sanzu, I can’t do this anymore. I-I’m not cut out for your kind of lifestyle.” Those were the last words you got to say before you found yourself hiding in the mess of clothes from your closet after you heard the glass shatter from one of the windows in your apartment. You thought a phone call would suffice considering you know how your former boyfriend gets so you could be at a distance.
When the line went dead, you knew that you might’ve fucked up. What you didn’t expect was for him to already be at your apartment. You had no idea why or when he came over but he had been hiding somewhere outside considering the shot rang only seconds after the call. Scared out of your mind, you could barely think, running to your closet knowing that you would be dragged out soon. You accidentally dropped your phone in the living room so you couldn’t call anyone for help.
Somehow you still love this pretty maniac, though you just couldn’t bear with the guilt of knowing that you’re with a murderer. You had only just found out about his body count recently when you got curious enough to look in his phone. At this point you would’ve rather had found him cheating, though you found old files and information on it, realizing that it was actually his work phone. You had no idea he works for Bonten.
He completely lied to you about his whereabouts and place of work. He acted normal, as if he had never killed anyone. How could he be okay with himself? How could you still want him? You fought yourself on whether or not you should pretend you didn’t know anything, which you tried, only for the guilt to eat you alive. Especially when you snooped in his office when visiting his home and saw the terrible ways he murdered the victims. Those same hands touched you every day.
You jolt as you hear the door to your room being kicked off of its hinges. Before you knew it, the closet door swung open revealing the pretty man in all his madness, an angry look on his face. You scream as he shoves all the clothes off of you and snatches you out by the bicep, gun still in one of his hands.
“SANZU PLEASE!” You scream as he throws you on the bed. He crawls on top of you, setting the barrel of the gun to your head while his other hand wraps his fingers around your throat.
“Shh, shh. It’s fine. It’s okay. Just breathe.” He cooed as you listen, breathing heavily as you try to calm down, not wanting to get shot. “You’re so beautiful like this, Angel. Stop crying, okay?” You whimper as you try to hold in your cries, anxiety high as you stare into his crazed eyes. “That’s my good girl.” He smiles.
“You’re gonna keep being good for me, yeah?” You nod your head frantically, tears still falling as you continue to hold in your whines. You wince as the gun cocks, his finger against the trigger. “You didn’t say what I think you said, right? You’re not breaking up with me?” You shook your head. “N-no I’m not, I just freaked out. We’re still together, I swear!” He nods as he removes the gun, though with the weapon still in his hand, he pulls you up by the face and gives you a passionate kiss. Moving his lips against yours as you fearfully kiss him back, his tongue entering your mouth to explore as saliva drips down your chin. He pulls back and leans his forehead on yours.
“It’s good that you know who you belong to.”
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wheresarizona · 9 months
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Bluebonnet
summary: Is Joel Miller your friend? No. You’re not even sure if he actually likes you or just puts up with you because of his kid. Then he kicks some guy's ass in a bar for getting handsy with you, and you’re starting to think maybe he might like you a little…
rating: E (18+!! No y/n, Grumpy Joel Miller, Protective Joel Miller, Soft Joel Miller, age gap (unspecified but reader was born before the outbreak), unprotected p in v (wrap it up), creampie, oral sex (f + m receiving), 69 position, dirty talk, praise kink, spanking, spit mention, slight breeding kink, Joel has a big dick, Joel being kinda a dick, a random guy harassing you then getting beat up by Joel, canon typical violence, icing Joel’s knuckles, feelings confessions, Ellie being Ellie and the star of the show, AU where Joel doesn’t lie to Ellie and their relationship is still good)
pairing: Joel Miller/f!reader
word count: 5.5k+
a/n: Literally, a scene in this woke me up from dead sleep at five in the goddamn morning, and I spent thirty minutes plotting the whole one shot while barely awake. This fic was very spur of the moment that I wrote in less than two days, so it’s unbeta’d. All mistakes are my own. Please be horny about Joel protecting you with me.
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!
Masterlist
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Is Joel Miller your friend? 
No. 
Are you on friendly terms?
You thought so. 
Joel isn’t the most social of fellas—he’s basically a feral cat that wants to be left alone.
If you aren’t friends with him, then how did you become the regular occupant of the seat across from his in the Jackson mess hall every breakfast and dinner? 
The answer is simple: Ellie. 
It all started months ago when you first got to Jackson and met the teen after being assigned to a job rotation with her. She was so excited about finding out you lived in Texas for many years before the world went to hell she invited you to eat dinner with her so you could meet someone, and that’s how you were introduced to Austin-native Joel Miller. 
He’s a bit older than you, never smiles, and isn’t much of a talker but still polite enough to answer a question if you ask it, even if it’s more of a grumble at the start of the day. With Ellie, though, it was different. He talked to her, and his voice was like coming home after a long day and settling in on the couch—that familiar Texan accent making you feel all warm and comfy, his words wrapping around you like a tight blanket and taking you back to a time when things were good and safe. 
The morning after the first dinner, Ellie had called you over to sit with them for breakfast, and again that evening, little bits of conversation happening between bites as you got a grasp on what the relationship was between this young girl and man—it was clearly father-daughter in nature even if she didn’t call him ‘dad,’ and you savored every word she wheedled out of him. 
It got to the point where the teenager didn’t have to beckon you over, and you just knew to set your food down in the seat in front of Joel to eat with them, always smiling at Ellie giving him so much shit, chatting with them or more the young girl, with Joel occasionally offering clipped anecdotes, and you trying not to acknowledge his handsomeness—you weren’t sure if he even liked you or if he was just putting up with you for the sake of his kid.  
He does have a lovely voice and is very attractive with those expressive chocolate-colored eyes that sometimes soften when he looks at his daughter; you could imagine his grey hair would be soft to the touch, and it’s obvious those full lips of his are kissable. Honestly, it’s surprising he’s not seeing anyone that you know of or Ellie is aware of, with how damn pretty he is.
His broad shoulders and how his flannels stretch over his chest. 
His neck. 
God, he’s sure nice to look at. 
And Ellie is a great kid who trusted you, coming to you anytime she needed advice or wanted to talk about something, and you were happy to be there for her. 
The breakfast and dinner routine had been going on for so long that even though Joel didn’t talk at length to you, you’d managed to learn quite a bit about him from questions he’d answer or conversations he had with his kid or brother in front of you. He definitely knew a lot about you, too. 
Now, back to why you’re not sure if he likes you. 
That morning when you went to breakfast, you were running on autopilot—piled your plate with food, grabbed your cup of shitty coffee that made you want to cry with how much you missed Starbucks, and set it all down in your usual spot, where you started to eat. 
When your brain finally began working, that’s when you realized it was abnormally quiet at your table, and you looked up to realize Ellie wasn’t there—it was just Joel. He must have seen some kind of look on your face since he grumbled out she was with a friend. Then when you asked if he wanted you to sit somewhere else, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and he told you no before going back to eating in silence.
That put a point in the maybe he wasn’t just putting up with you for the sake of his daughter column and made you smile a little the rest of the meal.  
She wasn’t at dinner either.
This had you standing near your seat, chewing on your lip, debating on sitting elsewhere until Joel sighed loudly, setting down his fork to tell you in a tone that brokered no room for argument to sit, so you did. 
After a few bites, you almost choked to death when he asked how your day was. 
There was actual back and forth between just the two of you, and you were in heaven at how much he was speaking, another point going toward he might like you. 
Those interactions had you feeling really hopeful, and you were excited for breakfast the next day, wondering if he’d try to talk to you more. 
It’s been over half a year since you arrived in town, and you have managed to make some friends, who you knew for sure were your friends, and also closer to your age. When a couple of them asked if you wanted to get a drink that night and play some pool, you happily agreed. 
The place is practically empty when you arrive. 
Standing at the bar, chatting with your friend Mathias as you wait for the bartender to make your drinks, you can feel someone staring at you. Doing a quick glance of the room has your stomach dropping and is the reason you’re pretty fucking sure Joel doesn’t care for you; he’s sitting across the room at a table in the corner, glaring at you—not just glaring, if looks could kill you’d be deader than dead he looks so pissed off, and you’re about to go find out what his problem is when two things happen:
Mathias excuses himself to the restroom, and some man you’ve never seen, let alone spoken to, gets your attention on your other side. 
“Hey.” The interloper squeezes your arm, which makes your head turn toward him, shaking him off.
“Don’t touch me,” you reply. 
There’s nothing special about the guy—he’s probably younger than you, has floppy blonde hair, and a clean-shaven face, but something in his eyes made you feel uneasy. 
“My apologies,” he says, putting up his hands placatingly. “This is my first night here, and I’m just trying to make a new friend. Have a drink with me.” 
“Welcome to Jackson, and no, thank you, I’m here with friends.” 
“I’m sure they won’t mind if you have one drink with me.” His voice goes lower, “We could have some real fun together.” He has the audacity to grab your ass, and you step out of his reach. 
“I said don’t fucking touch me.” 
The bartender has gone into the back, Mathias is nowhere in sight, and your other friend is in another room where the pool table is with the jukebox playing. 
Something flashes in his eyes, and it has your heart pounding. 
“Don’t be like that. Just one drink,” he says, coming closer. 
You are readying to fight the bastard when all of a sudden, someone is grabbing his collar, and you see a fist connect with his face in a sickening crunch that makes you gasp. 
Joel yanks the guy in front of him. 
“She said not to fuckin’ touch her,” he grits through his teeth. “And that she didn’t wanna have a drink with you.” 
“I’m sorry,” the other man wheezes, blood oozing from his clearly broken nose. “I’ll leave.” 
“Yes, you fuckin’ will—after I teach you some fuckin’ manners.” 
With that, he punches him again and again and again.
You’re no damsel in distress—you’ve survived the fucking apocalypse for the last twenty years practically alone and could easily fight your way out of dangerous situations. But having someone stand up for you and protect you? It’s really doing it for you, except you’re genuinely worried Joel will murder this man, so you move toward him. 
“Stop, Joel!” you shout, pushing on his shoulder, and he does immediately, his eyes meeting yours. “He’ll leave; toss him out. Please, Joel. Don’t kill him.” 
His chest rises and falls as he pants, nodding his head once before hauling the groaning man to the door and throwing him out. The bartender chose that moment to come back, as well as your friend. 
There was a worried expression on Mathias’ face. “Is everything okay?” he asks. 
“Yeah,” you answer. The drinks are sitting on the bartop, and you gesture toward them. “I’ve got something to do, so take those for me, okay?” 
Confusion is etched on his brow. “Okay…?” He strategically picks up the three glasses and heads for the other room with the pool table. 
Your attention moves to the man behind the bar. “Hey, can I get some ice in a rag?” 
“Sure thing,” he replies, going to the block and using the ice pick. 
Joel didn’t return to you. Instead, he went back to his table like the last however many minutes didn’t happen, and it makes you sigh. 
His mixed signals have you so confused you’re ready to just get it all out in the open. 
The bartender hands you some ice wrapped in a towel, and you walk over to Joel, having to drag the seat across from his around so you’re next to him, seeing his right hand shaking around his glass with bloodied knuckles. 
He won’t even look at you. 
“Give me your hand,” you order him. 
“I’m fine.” 
“No, you’re not. Give me your fucking hand.” 
“No.” 
“Stop being a stubborn asshole, and let me ice your fucking knuckles.”
“I said I’m fine.” 
He won’t give you his hand, so you do the next best thing and press the ice against them while they hold his drink, Joel hissing at the coldness. 
His head turns to glare at you. 
“Don’t give me that look.” You glare right back. “I’m helping you.” 
“I don’t need your help,” he practically spits out. 
Taking a deep breath, you ready yourself for what you’re going to say. 
“We had a nice dinner,” you tell him. 
His eyebrows furrow. 
“What?” 
“We had a nice dinner with just the two of us where we talked—you didn’t smile, but it was the most you’ve ever said to me, and this morning, you let me eat with you. You’re not a people person, and I wasn’t sure if you liked me all that much, but our meals today made me think you might. Then tonight you were glaring at me—”
“When was I glarin’ at you?” he interrupts. 
“Before that creep started getting handsy.” 
“Oh, I wasn’t lookin’ at you…” His eyes dart away. 
You’re confused. 
“There’s like no one here. Who were you looking at?” 
He sighs loudly. “Your boyfriend,” he mumbles. 
“Huh?” 
“Your boyfriend—the guy you’re here with.” 
“Oh, Mathias? I’m not his type, and he’s already in a relationship. I don’t have a boyfriend or a girlfriend, or a partner—I’m not seeing anyone. You should know this.” 
“Oh.” 
“Okay, so you weren’t glaring at me, you were glaring at my non-existent boyfriend, and then you came in hot like some knight in shining armor and beat the shit out of that asshole for doing me wrong. Sooo, you maybe like me?” 
He looked at you with a squinted gaze, like the answer was obvious. 
“I more than maybe like you,” he replies. 
That has your eyes widening. 
“Wait, in the romantic or platonic sense?” 
“There’s no point in talkin’ about this,” he sighs, looking down at the amber liquid in his cup. 
“Um, yes, there is because if I have a shot at breaking off a piece of this Kit Kat bar, I’d like to take it.” 
His gaze met yours, and you could see the hope swirling in the dark pools. 
“In the, uh, romantic or platonic sense?” 
Smiling, you answer, “Romantic—I’ve basically been crushing on you since I met you. We’ve known each other for months, almost a year. You’re such a good father to Ellie, a hard worker around town, and you let some random person sit with you during your meals—”
It takes your breath away when he smiles softly and talks when you pause, “You’re not some random person, and I would’ve been stupid to turn away such a beautiful woman.” 
“Oh, god, you’re hot and charming.” He chuckles, and your heart picks up in pace. “How are you making me like you more?” 
“I don’t know, Blue.” 
“Blue?” 
“As in Bluebonnet.” 
Which was Texas’ state flower and makes you feel so soft at how sweet the nickname is. 
“I love it.” 
The smile falls from his face. 
“You, uh, don’t mind my age?” He scratches at his mustache. 
Ellie had made you very aware of how old Joel was. 
“No? I think you’re extremely attractive. Does the age difference bother you?” 
“No.” He shakes his head. 
“What now?” you ask. 
“Jesus, it’s been so fuckin’ long,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I guess I’ll court you—take you on a proper date.” 
“Second option, that’s more immediate, and we can go with your plan tomorrow.” 
He looks at you. 
“Yeah?” 
“Is Ellie home tonight?” 
His eyebrows dip together. 
“Yeah?” 
Smirking, you say, “Okay, so why don’t we go back to my place, and I properly thank you for what you did tonight.” 
You see his throat bob as he swallows, his voice going deeper when he asks, “How do you wanna thank me?” 
A smile pulls up on your lips, moving forward to whisper in his good ear, “I was thinking I’d suck your dick.” His breath stutters. “Then have you fuck me however you want.” That makes him groan, and you grin. 
His hand moves out from under the ice and up to cradle your face, along with the other, when his body turns, making you look him in the eyes.
“I was stupid for leavin’ you alone ‘cause I assumed you wouldn’t want anythin’ to do with someone as old as me.” 
You snort. “Uh, yeah. You went a little hard with the leaving me alone, but I’ll forgive you if you kiss me right now.” 
No other words are said. His mouth crushes against yours, swallowing your surprised sound as he kisses you hard. Your fingers end up tangling in his grey waves of hair, your heart hammering in your chest and pulsing at the apex of your thighs. It’s obvious he hasn’t kissed in a while, and you’re in the same boat, both of you figuring things out until there’s a rhythm, and things are heating up with a slip of your tongue into his mouth to slide along his. The need inside you builds and builds until your lungs start to ache for oxygen, and you break apart, his nose nuzzling yours as you both pant with a smile on your lips. 
“Let’s go,” he says, and you don’t have to be told twice.  
He washed his hands before you left the bar, so it wasn’t obvious he’d just been in a fight. 
Having Joel lead you through town is like having a big, scary dog on a leash with how people get out of his way. It’s a little surprising he even knows where you live when you find yourself walking through your front gate. 
“How—”
“Ellie,” he answers before you even ask the question, his feet stomping up the two porch steps and you following. “She’s free to hang out with whoever and go wherever. I just ask she tells me where she’ll be.” 
“That’s very ‘cool dad’ of you.” 
You’re standing at the front door, him out of your way. 
“She’s not allowed to leave Jackson without me. If I tell her to stay away from someone, she stays away from them. I expect her to be a model citizen and do the jobs she’s required to do. Unless we talked beforehand, she must be home in time for breakfast and dinner.” 
“So, today, you knew it’d just be the two of us?” 
“She asked last night to stay at Cat’s house.” That’s Ellie’s best friend. “They’re staying over at our place tonight.” 
“Probably won’t even notice you’re missing then,” you say with a smile. The door’s unlocked, and you push it open before turning to grab Joel by the collar, pulling him in for a kiss as he walks you backward into the house with his arms wrapping around your back. 
It’s a tangle of tongues, a clash of teeth, one of Joel’s hands moving to massage your breast while your fingers worked open the buttons on his shirt, him shrugging it off by the time you make it to your bedroom door you led him to. Once inside, he strips you first, spending quite a bit of time licking and sucking on your tits when they’re bared and stopping you when you try to work open his pants, learning he’s really fucking strong when he easily tosses you onto the middle of the bed. 
Quickly, you’re sitting up on your knees, and you get a good look at the sizable bulge at the front of his jeans; Joel standing there with his hands on his hips, staring at your body with a hungry gaze, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip. Scars are littering the golden expanse of skin on his front and arms of varying sizes, a newer one you spot on his lower torso, all of them telling you he’s fought like hell to make it to this point. 
Shuffling forward, you’re tired of waiting, your hands going to the button on the front of his pants. Joel’s palm engulfs yours to stop you, his head tilting down to meet your confused eyes. 
“You don’t need to suck my dick for what I did,” he says. 
“Okay. What if I just want to suck your dick for the hell of it?”
His lips tip up in a crooked smile, and you’re enjoying seeing his different smiles. 
“Then have at it, but I wanna lick your pussy until you come on my tongue.” 
You suck in a breath, your cunt clenching hard around nothing. 
“If you can get me off with your mouth, you’re not gonna be able to get rid of me.” 
His eyebrow arches. “Is that so?” 
“Yeah. You’ll be stuck with me.” 
There’d been enough talking, so you deftly popped open the button and pulled down the zipper, grabbing the waistband to tug his jeans down his thighs. You’re pleasantly surprised he goes commando, and then you get a good look at his hard cock, and it’s glorious. 
He’s thick, long, with a nice curve upwards, and you’re wondering if you’ll be able to fit him in your mouth—you’re definitely up for the challenge, licking your lips at the thought. Your fingers don’t even wrap all the way around him when you take him in hand, giving him a few quick strokes. 
“Wait,” he says, stopping your movements. 
“What?” you ask, looking up at him. 
“Hold on,” is all he replies, getting his pants the rest of the way down, kicking them off, and removing his socks. Walking around the side of your queen size bed, you’re turning in place to follow his movements as he gets on the mattress with a groan and the springs squeaking as he moves to the middle, his legs on either side of you, grabbing one of your pillows to put under his head that he lifts to look at you. “Sit on my face.” It’s an order, and he pats his chest to show you he means it. 
“I thought I was giving you a blow job…?” You point at his dick resting against his stomach. 
“You are,” he replies. “We’re doin’ both. Now, get up here,” he orders again, his face grumpy, patting his chest once more. 
“Sheesh,” you say, moving over his leg and up the bed, thankful you showered before you went out. “You’re really bossy when you’re horny.” 
When you’re within reach, he replies, “I’ll show you fuckin’ bossy,” and he puts his strength to work again, grunting while hauling you onto him with your back to his head and legs along his sides. His hand lands on the side of your ass in a sharp slap that makes you gasp, feeling the wetness between your legs, coating your inner thighs. “I’m eatin’ this pretty fuckin’ pussy,” he says, positioning you over his face, his hand giving your asscheek another hard spank causing you to clench. “And you’re gonna wrap that gorgeous fuckin’ mouth around my cock.”
You can’t respond because all train of thought leaves your brain when his mouth latches onto your cunt, feeling him groan into your sensitive skin, the sensations making your toes curl, and fire erupt in your center. 
“Oh my god, Joel,” you moan. “It’s so good. It’s so fucking good.” 
It takes a deep breath for you to focus on your task, spitting on your hand before grasping his hard dick in your palm, the tip red and shiny with his arousal, lowering your face to take him into your mouth. He’s salty on your tongue, your jaw open as wide as it will go as you hollow your cheeks and bob your head, stroking the considerable amount that won’t fit. 
His hands have a firm grip on your hips, pulling you farther down on his face, and you’re really worried he’s going to suffocate while he eats you out like a man starving. Pleasure in winding in your belly, tighter and tighter, with how he’s licking at your folds, your eyes rolling back in your head when he sucks your sensitive little clit between his lips.
He’s really going to make you come, and it feels so fucking good you’re having a hard time sucking his cock, so lost in what he’s doing to you—saliva is dripping out of your mouth and down his shaft, making your hand slide easily along him while you have half a mind to suckle on the head of him. 
You hit your breaking point suddenly, the coil inside you snapping, your body tensing up as you come with a loud moan, euphoria spreading out from your core. Joel groans into your cunt, his tongue pushing inside your sopping entrance to taste your release straight from the source, his hands grabbing handfuls of your ass and squeezing hard.  
He must get his fill because he moves you off his face, hearing him take a deep breath. 
“My good fuckin’ girl,” he says through panted breaths, rubbing your hips, his words causing a shiver to move down your spine. “Am I stuck with you?” 
You’d given up on blowing him, your forehead resting against his thigh. 
“Yeah,” you slur, sounding drunk. “How are you single?” It’s been a while since you’ve had that good of an orgasm. 
He sighs and taps your hip. “Turn around, baby.” 
Doing your best to turn, Joel helps you, getting you to straddle over his lower torso, your hands finding their place on his warm, flushed chest, seeing the grey hairs of his beard shining with your arousal and his lips frowning. 
“Like you said earlier,” he says. “I’m not a people person.” 
Your eyebrows knit together. 
“I’m people…” 
“No, you’re not. You’re my Texas Bluebonnet—my Blue.” His large palm comes up to stroke your cheek. 
You’re wondering something. “Why did you talk to me at dinner?” 
A sheepish look comes over his face. “‘Cause we were alone, and I didn’t have to worry about Ellie teasin’ me in front of you about my crush.” 
“She knows?”
He grimaces. “Suspects. Since there’s only three people on this godforsaken planet I like, and you’re one of them.” 
“And I’m the only one who’s not family—oh, that’s obvious.” 
“Yeah…” 
“Well, how do you want me?” 
He looks confused. “Huh?” 
“I said you can fuck me however you want,” you answer, sliding your hands up his pecs. “How do you want me, babe?” 
When he smiles this time, you get a glimpse of his teeth. “Ride me.”
His answer has you grinning. “Cowgirl, like a true Texan.” 
“I just love your tits,” he says, his big hands palming them. 
“Good to know,” you reply with a wink. 
Sitting up on your knees, you scoot back to get over his hips. His dick is still wet with your spit when you grab it and slide it through your folds before positioning him at your entrance. 
There are nerves swirling in your belly, your eyes landing on his dark ones as you slowly start to drop down, seeing his mouth fall open with a gasp, his hands grabbing onto your thighs. You knew there’d be a stretch, but he’s bordering on uncomfortable in how your walls have to expand for his size, feeling the slight burn. When you finally bottom out, you’re beyond full—you’ve never felt fuller, and it takes your breath away. 
“Jesus Christ,” his words are said through his teeth, his eyes squeezed shut. “Don’t move.”
His hard cock is throbbing inside you. 
“Been a while?” 
“Yeah.”
“Same. You’re so fucking big I’m gonna be sore after this.”
His dick jerks as he groans, “Don’t say that.”  
“Damn, you’re that close?” you ask, soothingly stroking your hands over his chest. 
You watch as his eyes blink open, the grumpy expression you’re used to appearing on his face. 
“Don’t make fun of me.” He slaps your ass. “I haven’t fucked in a long time, and now I’m inside the perfect pussy—you’d be strugglin’ too if you were me.”
“I’m not making fun of you, Joel.” You lean forward to cup his cheek, feeling prickling stubble under your palm. “I think it’s hot. Like, you have no idea how flattered I’d be if I made you come right away—talk about an ego boost.”
He doesn’t look convinced, his eyes narrowing.  
“Are you just sayin’ that to make me feel better?”
“Nope.” To prove your point, you sit up, bracing yourself with your hands on his chest as you start circling your hips. 
His mouth goes slack, his eyes widening, a choked noise pulling from his throat that makes you smirk. “Fuck,” he pants. There’s sweat beading on his forehead, his cheeks a rosy pink. “You fit me like a fuckin’ glove.” 
You’re slowly building into an up-and-down motion, feeling every ridge and vein of his cock rubbing against spots you didn’t know existed, sparks of pleasure igniting in your center as you throw your head back. 
He must get a hold of himself because both of his hands come down on each of your asscheeks in loud, resounding smacks before he’s gripping them to help you move. 
Looking down at him, there’s concentration on his brow. 
“Your tight little pussy is takin’ me so fuckin’ well,” he says, hearing the wet sounds where you’re joined. “You love how I stretch you open?” 
“Yes,” you moan. 
You’re moving a little faster, moving up, and falling down a little harder, making the fire in your belly get hotter and hotter. 
“Lean down.” 
Doing as he says, your hands are on either side of his head while he continues helping you ride him. He lifts his face to pull a pebbled nipple between his lips, and the pleasure shoots straight to your pussy, making you gasp and more arousal spill around his length. 
He laves at one bud, then the other as you work yourself up, the new angle allowing the coarse hairs at the base of his cock to rub deliciously against your clit, and you know you’re close.
Joel is groaning loudly, clearly in heaven, with his dick inside you and his mouth on your tits. 
“You gonna come for me, baby?” he says around your hard nipple. “You gonna let me feel you squeeze my dick? Let me fuckin’ have it. Be a good fuckin’ girl and give it to me.” 
It’s all too much, everything coming to a head as you fall over the edge with a cry of his name, clenching so hard around him, you’ve stopped moving with his cock buried to the root, pleasure radiating through your body. 
Joel’s breathing hard under you, and you don’t sound any better while you come down from your high. 
His arms suddenly hug you close to him, and you squeak in surprise when he flips you onto your back with his dick still inside you and his hips nestled in the cradle of your thighs. Lips find yours in a searing kiss, moaning as you taste yourself, welcoming his tongue when it slips into your mouth to tangle with your own. 
He starts moving to chase his high, his thrusts hard and fast. 
The bedsprings are squeaking loudly, the headboard banging into the wall, hearing the wet suck of your pussy taking his cock and your muffled moans paired with his muffled groans. There’s no mistaking what’s happening in this bedroom, and you just hope your neighbors don’t complain in the morning. 
Your fingers have threaded into his hair, your bodies sweaty, his lips leave yours, opening your eyes to see his face screwed up like he’s in pain. 
“Where do you want it?” he grits out. 
If he’s asking, then he knows the risk. 
“Inside.” 
He opens his eyes wide. “Are you sure?” 
It is a rare thing to want these days. 
“Yes.” 
His pace speeds up, grunting as he pistons into you, resting his head in the crook of your neck, feeling his hot breaths. 
“You can fuckin’ have it,” he grunts. “Fuck you full of me—milk me fuckin’ dry. Fuck, you’re perfect.” 
You know he’s close when his thrusts get jerky, then he’s pushing in hard one last time with a guttural groan, feeling the hot spurts of his come filling you, his hips continuing to roll until they finally come to a complete stop. It’s obvious he’s wrung out with how he practically collapses on top of you, but you welcome the weight, pushing your fingers into his hair and scratching at his scalp, which receives appreciative hums. 
Minutes pass that neither of you speaks. 
“‘M sorry,” the words are murmured into your neck. 
“For what?” you softly ask.
“Makin’ you think I didn’t like you.” 
“It’s kinda my fault, too. I mean, I am aware you don’t like people but you’ve eaten two meals a day with me for almost a year, so obviously you must like me somewhat.” 
His head comes up with his eyebrows furrowed and his lips frowning. 
“I like you more than somewhat.” 
You smile. His hair is a mess, and you go about combing your fingers through it as you say, “Yes, I know that now. You like me.” 
“I do.” 
“And I like you.” 
“Good.” 
“I said you’re stuck with me, so can this be more than a one-time thing?” 
His eyes squint in that same way where he thinks something is obvious. 
“What?" he says. "I’m not lettin’ you go anywhere. You’re mine—my Blue.” 
“Good. ‘Cause you’re mine, too.” 
He kisses you passionately, and you lose yourself in it for a second until a thought has your eyes flying open and you pushing his face away. 
“What?” he asks, bewildered. 
“How are you going to tell Ellie?” 
“Shit. Uh, we can sit her down tomorrow night—”
“No, this is a conversation you need to have with her alone.” 
He winces. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow night after dinner...” 
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Is Joel Miller your boyfriend? 
He absolutely hates you giving him that label, grumbling he prefers partner, but yes, he is your boyfriend. 
Did Joel sneak out of your house in the early morning hours to his own so Ellie wouldn’t know he was gone all night?
Also, yes. 
It’s the morning after, and you’re trying to act normal, ignoring how nervous you feel and the soreness between your legs as you sit down in your usual spot in front of Joel with your plate of breakfast. He’s changed into clean clothes and looks like he hasn’t slept, sipping on one of the two cups of shitty coffee in front of him, Ellie next to him already digging into some oatmeal with her spoon, which makes you realize—
“Ah, fuck,” you say, both of them looking at you. “I forgot to grab a fork.” 
“I’ll get you one, baby,” Joel says as he sets his coffee down and starts to get up.
The three of you go completely still. Your eyes are wide, Joel’s close in regret, his cheeks turning pink, and Ellie looks like she’s going to explode with excitement until—
“You guys FUCKED!” she shouts. 
People around the mess hall turn to stare. 
“Ellie,” Joel hisses, his head whipping toward her. 
“Sorry, sorry,” she says in a quieter voice, the rest of the room returning to eating. “I knew it! It’s about fucking time! So when are you getting married?” She’s looking between the two of you. “You know, I’ve always wanted a mom! And a brother! I’ll settle for a sister, though. Is she moving in with us, Joel?” She’s staring at him expectantly with a grin. 
Joel’s face is bright red. “I’m gettin’ the fuckin’ fork,” he grumbles as he gets up from his seat. 
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1K notes · View notes
hallowxiu · 4 months
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The Brothers Reacting to You Messaging Your Ex
Nothing flirty/shady. Your ex is reaching out for advice (up to you on the type of advice).
(Also up to you if your ex is a demon, angel, or another human)
Lucifer:
Lucifer’s noticed you on your phone more often than usual. It’s nothing out of the blue for you to be texting, but this much?
He’s a little suspicious and more than that, he’s growing paranoid. 
He knows you’d never do anything to hurt him or break his trust, but still, why are you on your phone so much and who are you texting? 
Finally, when he can no longer stay silent, he corners you in his office and flat-out demands who you’re talking to. 
You notice the anxious expression on his face and you feel your heart tighten in your chest. You explain that you’re in contact with an ex, and before he can panic, you quickly shut down the idea of anything scandalous going on. You explain that your ex simply needs advice for a life-changing event, and once you’re done helping them, you’d drop contact.
You can tell he isn’t delighted with the answer (can you blame him?) but he drops it, content that you’re being honest with him. 
Still, expect to see sudden bouts of jealousy throughout contact with your ex until the matter is fully dead. 
You might notice possessiveness from him as well, though I’m sure that’s nothing you can’t handle. ;) 
Mammon:
With how glued to your side he is, you didn’t have to tell him who you were texting. 
While he trusts you, that doesn’t mean he has to trust the intentions of your ex. 
“Seriously, who do they think they even are? What advice is so urgent that they need the opinion of their ex?” 
You try to soothe his anxiety, constantly reassuring Mammon that you’re only trying to help someone who once meant a lot to you. You even offer up your phone so he can read your messages, but he refuses, saying he trusts you. 
He makes you promise dozens of times to tell him if your ex tries anything fishy though.
“Devildom, Celestial Releam, Human World- it doesn’t matter where they are. If they think they can hit on you and get away with it, they’ve got another thing comin’.”
Despite all his complaining, he’s secretly proud of you that you’d be willing to help someone that you’ve had such a complicated history with. If anything, it only solidifies his feelings for you even more. Not just anyone would be nice enough to help out an ex, but you? Well, he’s convinced you’d help anyone, even if they’ve wronged you. 
Honestly, how are you so perfect?
Leviathan: 
It does not go over well. At. All. 
He doesn’t yell, scream, or ignore you. He just shuts down. 
You told him as soon as your ex reached out for advice; you hadn’t even responded yet. 
Leviathan means the world to you, and being the Avatar of Envy, you know how devastating something like this could be to his self-esteem if not gone about the right way. 
You swear up and down to him until your face is blue that your ex is only asking for advice, and how you would never talk to them unless Leviathan was comfortable with the idea. 
Clearly, he’s not. 
Despite saying you wouldn’t respond to your ex unless Leviathan was comfortable, he mutters under his breath about how you can respond, and how he doesn’t own you or control what you do. 
While he verbally agreed to it, you don’t like how he feels as though he has to. 
You make a point of deleting your ex’s text, showing Leviathan in the process. 
“I never want to do anything to make you uncomfortable. They can get advice from someone else if they need it that badly.” 
The two of you spend the rest of the day cooped up in his bedroom, snuggled up while watching anime and playing games. 
Satan:
Surprisingly, he handles it pretty well. 
Satan can be level-headed when he wants to be, and when you come out and explain the situation, he doesn’t really see any need to worry. 
Still, you can expect to find him at your side more than usual. 
You’re also gravely mistaken if you think Satan hasn’t warned this ex of yours. 
“If I find out you need anything more than advice, I will make sure you have nightmares about me for the rest of your life.” 
He sends the threat from your D.D.D., deleting it afterward so that you don’t see it. He isn’t worried about your ex ratting him out however; most people tend to stay quiet after a threat from him. 
If your ex had ill intentions from the start, you’ll never find out. 
Unbeknownst to you, Satan has his eyes on your ex, knowing their location at all times. 
Like I said, he handled it pretty well if you really think about it. 
Asmodeus: 
Asmodeus couldn’t really blame your ex for wanting to reach out to you. I mean, you’re such a beauty. 
And to top that off, you’re dating him, and he’s also a major beauty. 
Honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if your ex was actually just trying to get close to him.
At least, that’s what he’s been telling himself to keep from panicking. 
He knows he’s the most desirable demon in all the Devildom, but do you know that? 
Your ex can’t actually think they can win you back, can they? 
He’s been biting at his nails, that’s how stressed out he is. 
You pick up the subtle signs of his distress, chipped nail polish, his hair missing its usual shine, and the slightest of bags under his eyes. 
You sit him down one morning in the kitchen before the others wake, and carefully explain to Asmodeus that there’s nothing to worry about. Your ex only needs advice, and as soon as you’ve given it, you’ll end all contact. 
You also promise to drop all contact if your ex makes any kind of flirtatious comment, and that seems to ease his stress a little. 
“Ha, I don’t even know why I was worried in the first place. After all, how could you fall for anyone but me?” 
What Asmodeus doesn’t say, is that he will hunt down your ex if they try anything. He’ll risk breaking a nail if he needs to. 
Beelzebub: 
Beelzebub is not one to get possessive. If anything, he’s one of the calmest out of the brothers as long as he’s eating. 
He’s always trusted you, and you’ve always known him to have a level head. 
So when you approach him regarding your ex, he’s surprised to find himself somewhat… bothered.��
He can’t exactly word his thoughts, but he’s not happy. Far from it. He doesn’t know your ex, he has no reason to trust them, and they must be your ex for a reason. 
What are their intentions? Do they really just want advice from you?
He’s startled to find himself thinking violent thoughts, wondering all the ways to cook up your ex if they try anything he doesn’t approve of. 
He knows he wouldn’t really do it, but… 
He sits you down before you can. He expresses his concerns and requests that you don’t communicate with your ex, even if it’s a selfish thing of him to ask. 
You, just being happy that Beelzebub is for once comfortable with his feelings, oblige. 
A happy Beel keeps everyone happy, after all. 
Belphegor:
 Belphegor shrugs it off. He really doesn’t care. 
What? Did you expect him to get jealous? 
Sure, he might get jealous over his brothers whenever they compete for your attention, but a total stranger? Yeah right. They’re beneath him; he has no reason to be concerned. 
Belphegor is confident in his abilities to keep you happy and satisfied. He knows you don’t have a wandering eye. 
This person, whoever they are, is your ex for a reason. Clearly, they must’ve fucked up somewhere down the road. 
Why should he worry if they plan on stealing you back? It’s futile and he doesn’t mind watching them make a fool of themself. It’ll make for good entertainment for him to fall asleep to. 
You’re a little surprised by his lack of a response, but then again, maybe you should be happy. You don’t necessarily want a homicidal Belphegor throwing a fit. 
391 notes · View notes
mypoisonedvine · 1 year
Text
𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙤𝙢 || dieter bravo x camgirl!reader (part three; finale)
read 𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙩 (part one) and 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙢 (part two) first!
𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || he can't believe you're really here— now he has to just try not to blow it... figuratively speaking.
𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 5.7k
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut (18+ only; unprotected sex, oral f receiving, multiple orgasms/overstimulation [for reader], creampie), sex work (however dieter technically does not pay the reader for sex, just her flight to visit him c:), mentions of covid-19 pandemic, soft dieter being soft, emotions!! lots of 'em!, extremely sappy/fluffy ending (oops?)
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He wasn’t sure who he was more worried would get recognized: you, or himself.
It was his idea to go out to dinner first, in fact he’d insisted on it.  Going out to dinner in times like these was a bit iffy, but thankfully the place had outdoor dining and you’d both already tested negative— for more than just the virus…
It was a beautiful evening to eat outside, but it made him even more anxious that any passerby might know him either of you from your respective works; so far, no one had said anything though.
As he watched you take a sip of your sparkling water, he realized that he hadn’t had a crush on anyone in a long, long time.  He hadn’t had sweating palms and a racing heart and a dry throat over someone since probably high school.  By the time he was in his BFA program, he was so focused on his craft that he didn’t find himself worrying much about that sort of stuff— and if he wanted to get someone into bed, it didn’t seem like much to stress over.
This was different.  This wasn’t an issue of getting you to sleep with him, although he certainly hoped you wouldn’t renege on the intentions you’d stated before— this was about getting you to like him, maybe even (as he would’ve put it back when he last had a crush) ‘like like’ him.
“Was your flight okay?” Dieter asked compulsively to fill the silence, proud of himself for thinking of something to say.
“Still good,” you nodded.  “You asked me that when we first got here.”
“Right,” he sighed, “sorry.  I forgot.”
“It’s fine,” you laughed, setting your glass down on the white tablecloth.  “I’m nervous, too.  But in a good way.”
He smiled.  “Yeah— I’m just really excited that you’re here.  And it’s still kind of weirding me out that you’re… you know, real.”
“It’s definitely trippy,” you agreed.  “When you see somebody over video chat a lot, they look sort of surreal in real life.”
“Are you… speaking from experience?” he wondered, lowering his voice a bit.
“Yeah— but not this kind of experience,” you clarified.  “I’ve never met anyone from my work before— I told you that.”
“Right, yeah— I believe you,” he assured.  “Have you ever flown overseas just to meet someone before?”
You laughed, looking down for a second.  “No, I haven’t,” you answered, “but this isn’t the first time I’ve been, you know, wined and dined by somebody…”
“Well, I figured this wasn’t your first date,” Dieter scoffed.
“No, I mean— well, yeah,” you hummed, “but I, um… before I started camming, I was actually a sugar baby.  So I’ve had my flights paid for before, is what I mean.”
He widened his eyes a little, but nodded— hoping to look more intrigued than overwhelmed.  “Oh, wow, that’s— I don’t know a lot about that, honestly…”
“I was about to ask if you’d ever had a sugar baby before,” you smirked, “guess not.”
“Yeah, no,” he shook his head, “not my— not for me.  Not before, I mean— is that what you want?”
He got a little nervous that you would only want that— a relationship built on money.  He was more than happy to drop some cash on you— he’d offered to pay for everything for you on this trip, it only seemed fair when you had to come all this way— but he got a sick feeling in his stomach imagining that that was all you wanted from him.
But then again, he just said he didn’t know a lot about it, maybe it wasn’t like that… he just felt like it was another performance, and that was the last thing he needed from anybody.
“O-oh, no— not with us,” you answered quickly, blinking a few times, and he sighed with relief.  “I mean, it was nice— it wasn’t all old guys and crazy finance douchebags like people think,” you explained with a laugh, “but it was… it was hard work, in its own way.  ‘Cause another misconception is that it’s sex in exchange for money and gifts— it’s not, not the way I did it at least.  Those guys wanted the ‘girlfriend experience’... that’s the most profitable thing, whether it’s online or in-person.”
Dieter cleared his throat; can’t blame them, I guess…
“But, you know, they didn’t have the time for a genuine relationship, so it was like giving that emotion but never receiving it,” you continued, “and that was exhausting.  Not to mention most of them had other girls involved… I’m not a jealous person, but you know, that’s obviously not what I want for myself in the end.  So I switched to camming, worked out well with the pandemic and everything…”
“I’m sure,” Dieter agreed.  “So, um… maybe this is kind of a forward question, for a first date, but… what do you want for yourself in the end?”
You seemed to get a little more shy, then.  “Well…” you began softly.  “Despite what you’ve seen me do, I’m a pretty traditional girl.  I want a serious relationship, I want a lifelong commitment, I want… a family, probably.”
It was hard not to feel a lump in his throat when you said that, even if his emotions were conflicted at best.
“I mean— that doesn’t have to be you,” you rushed out, “I’m just saying… that’s the end goal.  I have a lot of time for that, in my opinion.”
“No, right,” he agreed.  “So then, I guess the obvious question— and probably a much easier one— is what’s your goal for tonight?”
You raised an eyebrow.  “I already told you my goal for tonight.”
He swallowed thickly.  He remembered your last message before getting on the plane pretty clearly: boarding now. hopefully i can get some sleep but i’m pretty wired ngl. just thinking about getting there and jumping your bones. i want you to fuck me so hard i can’t walk (or think) straight.
“Honestly, I wouldn’t have minded at all if you just took me straight to the hotel,” you smirked, “but dinner is nice.”
“Yeah, I— I thought about it,” he admitted.  “But… can I be honest?”
“Always.”
“I wanted this to be more than just… that,” he said.  He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to tell you, but he hoped it wouldn’t bother you too much.  Thankfully, the gentle smile creeping up your face seemed to indicate that it wasn’t particularly offensive.
“So, what do you want this to be?” you pressed.
“We can figure that out as we go,” he offered, “we should get to know each other better— for real.  But that night that we stayed up until three just talking after what was supposed to be a one-hour call—”
He saw you smile even wider as you remembered it.
“I haven’t felt close to anyone like that in—” he began, but it all stopped as the waiter suddenly appeared from thin air.
“Your tortellini, ma’am,” he said as he set your plate down in front of you, and you offered an intrigued ‘ooh’ as you examined the dish, “and your langoustines alla busara,” he finished as he set Dieter’s food down.
“Thank you,” you offered the server with a polite nod, but Dieter could only muster a hum— he was a little miffed that the guy had managed to interrupt such an important moment.
“Anything else I can get for you two?” he asked, looking back and forth.
You looked over at him to check first, before shaking your head and replying, “No, I think we’re alright.”
“Excellent,” he beamed.  “And— can I just say one thing?”
You both paused, not sure what to make of that.  “Uh, sure,” Dieter decided, since the waiter seemed to be looking at him.
“I loved you in Hunger Strike,” he said excitedly; Dieter tensed up, wanting to look at you to gauge your reaction but suddenly too afraid of what he’d find.
“Oh, thank you,” he mumbled out, “that… means a lot.”
“I mean, it really moved me,” the waiter insisted, even though Dieter just wanted this interaction to end promptly.  “You were so— I’m really not trying to intrude, but is there any way I can get your autograph?”
Then he looked at you, and he couldn’t quite read the expression on your face— amusement, maybe, with a hefty dose of discomfort as well.  You looked away and took a long sip of your drink.  “Uhh,” Dieter choked, looking back at his adoring fan, “you’ll get my autograph when you bring the check.”
Seeming to realize that he had gone too far, the young man straightened up and cleared his throat.  “Right, uh— enjoy your meal.”
Scampering away, he left the both of you behind, along with all that tension he’d created.  How come he got a escape a situation that was his own fault, and Dieter was stuck here wondering if you would be upset that he didn’t tell you who he really was— or if you’d reveal you were a crazy stalker-fan the whole time— or if knowing he was famous would change your interest in being with him (if you even had any)?
“I’m… sorry about that,” Dieter finally offered to you, and you started to smile.
“Don’t be,” you chuckled, “it was kinda funny.  Do you usually react so… badly, to that kind of thing?”
He coughed a bit.  “No, I— are you not…?  Do you know—?”
“I saw the movie, Hector, I don’t live under a rock,” you admitted.
“Oh.”  Not sure what to say next, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind: “What did you think of it?”
Shrugging, you answered with a simple ‘eh’.  There was a pause before he began to crack up— and then you did, too. 
“So, I’ve been worrying about all you finding out about my career for nothing?” he assumed, and you nodded.
“I didn’t recognize you right away,” you explained, “but I put it together before we planned all this.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” he wondered.
“I mean, I didn’t think I needed to, really,” you shrugged again.  “It’s just your job.  I was ready to talk about it if you brought it up— if you wanted to vent about work or something— but you never did, so I figured it must not be relevant.”
“Does it… change anything between us?” he asked nervously.  “Do you feel weird about going out with a movie star?”
“Mm, I don’t know about star…” you smirked, making him laugh again— and that was the part that was the same as always.  You still made him laugh, and now that the two of you were really talking again, it felt just like that night that you talked for hours— but even better.
When the plates were cleaned and the bill was paid, the two of you walked back to his hotel— he’d picked this place in part because he could see it from his window.  But that brief walk back was one of his favorite parts of the night so far, only because he’d slipped his arm around you, and you leaned into him: in that moment, he felt more normal than he had in a long time— and yet, at the same time, special in a way he’d never felt before.
~
“I tried to clean up in here, but—”
“Isn’t there housekeeping for that?” you wondered.  
“Yeah, but… I’ve had the ‘do not disturb’ sign up for the past week,” Dieter explained.  “Didn’t want anyone to come in while we were talking…”
“Right,” you smiled, finishing your examination of the room and turning to face him again.  The door shut on its own; you were looking at him with every light in the room reflected in your eyes.
He stepped closer to you, and wrapped his arms around you, and— why were his palms so clammy?  “I don’t think I’ve been this nervous to kiss someone since… since maybe my first ever kiss,” he recalled, and you laughed softly.
“Yeah, me either,” you whispered back, and he ran his hand over the curve of your hip.  “Who was your first kiss?”
“Uh, Sandy something… Brendan, I think— no, Brennan… Sandy Brennan.  We sat next to each other in History class in seventh grade,” he recalled.  “What about you?”
“I mean, unless you count a peck or two from my kindergarten boyfriend,” you chuckled, “my first real kiss wasn’t until high school— Gregory Cho.  But I wasn’t that nervous… actually, I was sort of ready to get it over with.”
“There was someone I was really nervous to kiss in high school, too,” he recalled, “but that was… different.”
“Who was it?”
That name was much easier to recall.  “Alex Brooks.”
“Was she super pretty?  Or popular?” you pressed, wondering what had him so nervous, what made it different.
“Both,” Dieter replied quickly.  “And… he was captain of the basketball team.”
You didn’t react strongly, but he still noticed it.
“Is that—?” he began to ask.
“He sounds like a real catch,” you smiled.  “Was he a good kisser?”
“Yeah,” Dieter laughed, “for a high schooler.  I guess things don’t feel as special now as they did back then— just some decent making-out in someone’s dad’s truck was the coolest thing, now it’s like— it’s all right there, you don’t have to…” he trailed off, but started a new sentence.  “I mean, even you— I’ve seen every part of you, but I just really met you for the first time.  And somehow I’m so afraid to kiss you.”
You were still smiling, but it changed, and you reached up to rest your hand on the back of his neck; it made him shiver in the best way.  “If you’re afraid, then it must still be pretty special.”
You kissed him, after all that; he would’ve felt bad for making you wait, if he wasn’t so fully engrossed in kissing you back and pulling you closer and breathing in deeply against your skin.  
For a long time, that was all it was— just one, amazing kiss.  Just his lips on yours and the gentle dance of trying to go further without going to far; just your hands holding tightly onto his shoulders as he gripped your waist through the dress.
You started to pull him across the room by his shirt— towards the bed— and broke away to speak; he tried to chase your lips for more, but stopped when you bit your lip and rested a finger on his chin.
“You haven’t seen every part of me,” you corrected him— even though he barely fucking remembered saying that after a kiss like that.  “I mean, my body, sure, but… not who I really am.”
“Then show me that,” he pleaded.  “That’s what I want— you, everything.”
You smiled wide and kissed him again, the two of you toppling onto the bed together.  
He’d been thinking about doing this since the moment he saw you: pulling up the bottom of your dress so he could pet your thighs, enamored with the smoothness of your skin.  “Baby,” he purred when he caught sight of your panties— what little there was of them.  The lace just gave him a glimpse of what was beneath, a tease of your perfect little cunt.
“God, I need you so bad,” you groaned as you pulled him down for another kiss; he’d been hard since you wrapped your arms around him, and he could swear he was already throbbing by the time he rocked his hips against yours.  “Fuck— feels even bigger than it looked…”
“Maybe your computer screen wasn’t big enough,” he joked, making you laugh lightly before another moan came out when he rocked down on you again.  “What do you want, beautiful?”
“You… you know what I want…” you panted, wrapping your legs around his waist.
“Humor me,” he encouraged, moving in to kiss your neck— and loving the way you squirmed under him.
“Want— want you to fuck me,” you whimpered, “want you to make me— fuck— yours…”
He groaned deeply as he rutted his hips into yours harder, finally taunting you to the point that you had to reach down and start opening his pants.  “So eager,” he mocked playfully, as if he wasn’t going to ravage you the second you were done getting his cock out.
In fact, he almost tore your dress as he pulled it down to expose your chest, barely finding the time to appreciate the view of your tits before latching his mouth onto them.  “Oh fuck,” you gasped, and he smiled around the pert nipple in his mouth; these had seemed sensitive from the way you toyed with them as you touched yourself, but it was heaven on earth to confirm his suspicion himself.
“Want me to make you mine?” he prompted again, voice muffled by your delicate skin in his mouth, and you whimpered as you nodded.
“Yes— please—” you begged.
“Not sure I can do that,” he warned, and you gave him a confused look.  “You’re already mine, you told me yourself.”
You giggled, arching your back slightly as the tip of his tongue drew circles on you.  "I did say that, didn't I?"
"Mhm," he confirmed.  "Hard to forget."
"Well, m'still yours," you offered, "but I need you right now, I'll do— fuck, anything, just—"
"You don't need to do anything," he assured, looking up at you as he moved his mouth from your breast down a little lower, "just lay back and I'm gonna take care of you."
You bit your lip and nodded.
"Second I saw you I wanted to kiss you all over," he sighed.
"Well, I've got a couple ideas of where you can start," you smirked.
And yes, he would love to start there, but he needed to do his best not to rush this.  So, smiling up at you first, he began his journey.  His lips and tongue explored your body on his way down: a kiss here, a lick there, a playful bite when he felt extra naughty.  "You're so fucking beautiful," he mumbled against you.
"Yeah?  You too," you sighed.
He didn't think of himself like that— handsome, maybe, certainly aware of his better angles, but beautiful felt strange.  But he liked it, especially when you said it.  Especially when you said it while he was slotting his face between your legs.
It was even prettier up close, and the smell was fucking intoxicating: tangy and musky and sweet, heady, earthy, human.  And he knew you'd taste even better.
So he dove right in.  Maybe he should've started with your clit, that would've been the obvious choice, but his instincts led him to just slide his tongue right into your hole.  If nothing else, it certainly seemed to take you off guard, and you gasped as you grabbed onto his hair with both hands.
"Baby, fuck, that's— oh god, you can't imagine how many times I thought of this," you admitted, breathing heavy already.  He smiled against you, then gave you one big lick from the furthest down his tongue could reach all the way to the very top— all while holding fierce eye contact with you.  "Fu-uuuuck," you choked, dropping your head back just as your eyes rolled up.  "That's so… just do that again, please…"
He did it a few more times, noticing the way you seemed to get more impatient with each one, until your hips were chasing after his tongue.  "Stay still, baby, don't you trust me to do this right?" he purred, holding tighter on your hips.
"Yeah, I just— been so long," you whimpered.
He just did his best to find what made you scream the loudest and keep doing that— you were so sensitive, he just had to press his tongue down flat on your clit and move it in circles and you’d start shaking and sobbing and begging.  He moaned into you every time you tugged on his hair, having to rock his hips against the bed to appease his attention-deprived cock.
"You're… so amazing," you panted, "I— fuck! Oh god, I can't remember the last time someone—"
You never finished your thought, because he started fucking you with his tongue and you were too busy moaning his name, but he couldn't believe what a waste it was that nobody was eating this pussy on a regular basis.
"Gonna— oh fuck, yes, gonna come," you warned, "I… I'm gonna come so fucking hard…"
You started shaking, and he started fighting to keep you as still as he could so his work wouldn't be interrupted.  For a second he wondered if you were already coming or not— but then you made this noise, and your cunt clamped down on his tongue, and you cried out his name; it was perfect, it was the most beautiful moment he could ever imagine.
When it became too much, you went from tugging his hair to pushing him away with it, and he grinned up at you with a breathy laugh.  “Fuck, baby,” you whimpered, and he saw the tear streaks on your temples and cheeks.  He traced one with his thumb before kissing you again— deep and hungry, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.
He hummed when your hands reached down to work on getting his pants off— eager and shaky, he certainly related to that.  As soon as your hand wrapped around his cock, he moaned, just from that.  He was almost embarrassed about it, until you bit his lip in playful encouragement.  "Does that feel good?" you purred.
"Yeah— your hands are better than mine," he laughed breathlessly.  
"How about this?" you raised an eyebrow, swiping your thumb over his slit, and he groaned as he rocked into your touch.
"God, baby…" he groaned.  As good as it felt, he found the strength to grab you by both your wrists and pin them down by your head.  You grinned, struggling just a bit, and moaned as he slid his cock against your soaking pussy.
“Don’t tease me,” you begged, “feels like I’ve been waiting forever.”
But he wasn’t teasing you— he was psyching himself up.
Believe it or not, he actually felt pretty nervous about this part.  Not for a lack of experience— for the entirely opposite reason.  Dieter had been with a lot of people, and for the most part, it was all… the same.  It all blended together— he only remembered those people from when he was a kid because he was a kid, and his romantic encounters were so few and far between.  He could remember details of his various partners from the last few years— Crystal who had a clit piercing, Marvin who begged to be choked, Cameron who seemed to enjoy giving him a blowjob even more than he enjoyed receiving it— but this, the actual sex, it was generally pretty interchangeable.  
So, he was worried that after all that build-up, after all the yearning and fantasizing and talking, that this would be the end of it being special— and you would just turn into a hook-up with a slightly more interesting backstory than the rest.  
As valid as that fear was, it was far from enough to stop him now, not when you were looking up at him and tightening your fists as he kept you pinned and silently begging for him with your eyes.
He had to let go of one of your hands to guide himself inside, but he interlaced the other with your fingers while he did it— and then, with one strong push, he was fully within you.
“Oh my god,” he gasped, “you feel… different.”
You raised an eyebrow, chuckling a little.  “Uh, different than what?”
Than everyone else.  “I— I don’t know,” he breathed, “I’m not making sense.”
“Not really,” you agreed with a laugh.
“Hard to think straight right now,” he defended.
It wasn’t just that you felt different— it was that this felt different: being with someone he really cared about, that he wanted to impress, that he wanted to see after this was over.
Someone that he never wanted to let go of.
“You feel so fucking perfect,” you whimpered, “fuck, don’t stop— feels so good—”
One of the benefits of making you come on his tongue first was that he knew it wouldn't be that bad if he didn't last too long now— though that wasn't why he did it.  In fact, this was rarely his issue, if anything sometimes he struggled to finish for unclear reasons.
But even if he could get away with finishing quickly, he wanted to make this last as long as he could.  He never wanted this to end, actually.
As he found his pace— not too speedy yet, but with a bit of his eagerness showing— he kissed you again, deeply and hungrily.  He wondered if he'd ever done this before: kissing during sex.  He felt like he probably had, and yet he couldn't remember it— maybe that said more than anything.
This, on the other hand, was very memorable.  He slid his arms under you when your back arched, he held you tight and close and drank in every one of your moans through that kiss.
For how many times he’d pictured fucking you, he never really imagined it like this… and he thought he’d imagined it every way before.  But he realized that he’d mostly imagined it a bit kinker— you riding him, or him fucking you while you were bent over the table in his room, or 69’ing or something.  This was passionate, and sorta slow; this was his hips grinding on yours with every thrust so he could keep rubbing your sore clit; this was making love, he realized— if it wasn’t, he couldn’t imagine what was.
“I— fuck, baby— think I’m gonna come again,” you warned him with the most beautiful whiny sob.
“Fuck, already?” he smiled, and you nodded feverishly.  
“Just… don’t stop, please, just like that— fuuuuck!” you choked, and he gasped every time your walls clenched down on him.
“You’re so fucking perfect, fuck,” he grunted, moving a bit faster and not letting up on the pressure from his pubic bone on your clit, even when you actually screamed under him.  “You’re so amazing, oh god, I—”
He heard it before he said it: I think I love you.  He stopped himself before blurting it out— maybe he’d tell you after, but he wasn’t so far gone to forget that this wasn’t the right time.  You’d think he didn’t really mean it, that it was just the delirium talking from how incredible you felt, but he knew it was so much more than that.
He shut himself up by kissing your neck— not too hard, but plenty to leave a mark, and make you squirm in the process.  Your hands wrapped around his back and your nails dug into his skin, but he couldn’t even feel the pain of it, he couldn’t feel anything but the sticky, resplendent heat of your body.
“So much fucking better than the goddamn dildos,” you said suddenly, and he laughed against your skin.  
“Do you miss all those people watching you come?” he wondered.
“No, fuck no,” you panted, “there’s nobody else but you.”
He couldn’t help but fuck you faster when you said that— you should’ve known better than to stroke his ego that way.
“Fuck!” you sobbed.  “Hector, baby, you’re so— oh god, I don’t know if I can take it—”
“Shh, you can,” he promised, “you can do anything, you can come for me again—”
“Oh fuck, I— I might,” you admitted shakily, “but then I’ll— I’ll fucking pass out or something.”
“No, you’ll be okay,” he promised, cooing at you softly.  “You’ll be so good for me, I know you will— just come for me one more time, baby, tell me what you need to come again.”
“I… just a little time is all I need,” you answered, voice breaking.  “I swear I’ve never— I’m not usually so— fuck, it’s just you—”
“I know,” he assured, loving the way you babbled praises but worried it would distract you from coming again; and if you didn’t soon, there wouldn’t be time before he lost it.  He was already barely able to keep his composure just from how beautiful you looked like this, let alone how you felt.  “I know, just let it happen, I know it’s right there for me— just come for me, beautiful—”
You dragged him down into a sloppy kiss, and he felt it— those incredible pulses inside you, waves of slick coating him until he felt sticky all the way down his thighs; your sobs were more precious than anything he’d ever heard.
“Fuck, that’s good,” he praised, fucking you even faster now as your head fell back limply.  “I can’t h-hold back anymore, I need to—”
“I know,” you said to him this time, “it’s okay, please— want you to…”
“You still— oh my god…” he choked, losing his train of thought for a moment.  “You still want me to come inside you?  Wanna be full?”
“Yes,” you whined, “yes, baby, please— wanna be so full of your come, I want everything—”
"Fuck, okay," he agreed, gasping as he tried to keep up his pace despite the growing pressure inside.  "I'm really fucking close…”
“I’m yours,” you told him again— and then he went from ‘really fucking close’ to ‘already fucking there’.  He came inside you with a long, whimpered groan; his head dropped onto your shoulder while each pump filled you, trying to catch his breath but feeling like he’d never find it again.
Admitting he loved you during sex wasn’t a good idea, but saying it immediately after wasn’t that much of an improvement.  Now, though, he was too exhausted to keep his mouth shut.  “I think I love you,” he blurted out suddenly.
For one incredibly long second, you didn’t react at all.  You looked up at him, and he hesitated to even look back because he didn’t want to see anything less than ecstasy on your face.  “Oh,” you said, “cool.”
He wasn’t sure what reaction he anticipated, good or bad, but it wasn’t that.
“Let me know when you know,” you suggested.
“No!  No— I know,” he insisted, reaching up to hold your face, “I know.  I love you.  I think I did even before you came here, but… it just seemed so crazy.  We don’t know each other as well as we should for that, right?  But I feel it— I feel something that I just can’t explain—”
“Hey, slow down,” you laughed, “I feel it too.”
The way you smiled at him, resting your hand on his chest— was he glowing?  He felt like he was actually glowing.  “Good,” he decided.
“Let’s get to know each other better, then,” you announced.  “Start from the beginning, the whole thing: parents, siblings, school, favorite movies, worst dates, hot dogs or hamburgers—”
“No, you start,” he pouted, “you’re more interesting.”
“Me?  Please, I’m just your average camgirl titty streamer, don’t worry about it,” you scoffed.
“And I’m just some lame old Oscar winner,” he shrugged.
But both of you talked— all night, actually.  You never fell asleep, he was never even that tired— you kept him so full of energy he didn’t even notice how long it had been until the sun started to come up.  And then you kept talking at breakfast.  And then you fucked again, and talked some more after; he knew it had to end, eventually, but he didn’t even want to think about it.  He didn’t want to think about you going home and letting something so perfect end.
He told you just as much on the last night— assuming you didn’t switch your flight home to a later day again.  You’d just been laying in his arms after another bout of passionately desperate fucking, both of you half-asleep but not wanting the separation of even just unconsciousness, and he blurted it out.
“Don’t leave,” he pleaded under his breath.  “I don’t want you to go.”
“I know you don’t,” you returned softly.  
“I don’t want this to end.”
You were quiet for a while, turning over on your side to face him, tracing your fingers over his chest gently.  “It doesn’t have to end, just because I leave,” you mumbled.  “I know it’s crazy, but we can be together, even if we’re not… together.  I mean, I’m certainly not gonna be with anybody else—”
“Me either,” he said quickly, before he could change his own mind with the doubts— the voice in his head that said he could never settle down because he’s too fucked up.  “I only want you.”
“It’ll suck, being far away from each other— but you’ll be back Stateside eventually, right?” you assumed.
“God, I hope so,” he sighed, “if the world doesn’t end.”
“If it does,” you whispered, moving in closer, “I hope it’s tonight.  I wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else but here.”
It was a romantic thought, but as he kissed you, he realized he’d never wanted the world to end less than he did right now.  He never longed for an apocalypse or anything, even on nights that his doubts and anxieties made him yearn for oblivion just for himself, but just now he could’ve cried thinking about everything falling apart tonight.  Whether it be by fiery explosion or a quiet, instant disappearance, he couldn’t let armageddon happen now— now that he had you.  For the first time, he saw himself having a future, in a way he never had before.  Existing as a ‘celebrity’ meant being on the edge of irrelevance at any moment, knowing this could all go away overnight and you’d just be ‘that guy who was in that thing that one time’.  
But this time, he stood on a precipice of something wonderful, of something natural, and it was the most beautifully terrifying unknown.  It was tomorrow.  Tomorrow, you’d get on the plane; tomorrow, you’d leave, because the world wasn’t going to end tonight.  But his life was going to start tonight, and he didn’t have to face it alone anymore.
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forbidden-sunlight · 1 month
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yandere!Alastor with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario: A Wendigo's Violent Love Part Three
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Warning: aged-up!reader [in early to late twenties], violence, OOC, spoilers for the first season of the 2024 show, possessive and obsessive behavior, Alastor is in denial of his feelings, possible angst.
There may be possible triggers in this story.
If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the back button on your phone or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.
You are responsible for your Internet consumption!
Hey guys, welcome back to another installment of A Wendigo's Violent Love. I am honestly overwhelmed with how much people like this series, and I wouldn't have come this far without the support of this community. I'd also like to give a special thanks to @a-witch-of-writing-desk, @illuminaresblog, and @yourdoorisunlocked with this piece.
Without their insight and assistance in writing this chapter, it probably wouldn't have been posted until early or late April because of my workload.
The scene where Rosie and Alastor reminisce about how they first met was inspired by a comic illustrated by the incredibly talented @notherpuppet. I won’t spoil what it is exactly, so I will leave the link here.
On another note, the Hobby Horse mentioned here is a direct reference to the weapon in American McGee’s Alice: Madness Returns video game.
So, with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what's going on in tonight's broadcast with Hell's one and only Radio Demon!
Reblog to support content creators! ❤️
Part One
Part Two
Cannibal Town was a place unique in the Pentagram. 
Its streets were lined with buildings that possess a vintage charm in which Alastor cannot help but treasure dearly; after all, it closely resembles the era he lived through in New Orleans. Everything in the town fitted like a tailored glove to the charming cannibal; from its automobiles, the residents’ everyday attire, and even how they greeted each other, tipping their hat off or curtseying with a smile. No one is fully dressed without one~! Who could ever think that it isn’t a lovely place to live in, of all the possible places to live in the Pentagram? Just follow Rosie’s rules and you would be fine~!
But the thought of his delightful friend reminded him that he had not come here for an afternoon stroll, nor to enjoy a delicious cup of coffee at a cafe and not even to see if there were any new meat shops open for business. He needed to speak to Rosie, discreetly. 
She was a sensible woman whose establishment, a modest two-story building stationed right where the town’s plaza, offered consultation and other goods for all to enjoy; from the latest fashion trends to comestics to glass displays of ringed pinky fingers, there was something for everyone. No one had to venture outside of the Pentagram for anything. Rosie knew exactly what the citizens wanted and how to protect them. That’s why she is the leader, the one to talk to if anyone wants to do any business here. To set up shop without her permission…well, it was free for all. 
He strode down Main Street, smiling and politely greeting a charming group of ladies who called out to him in surprise, currently feasting on some hapless soul who had walked through without following the town’s dress code. For a moment, his mind wandered to the impossible notion of you walking beside him, your gloved hand tucked into his arm with a parasol raised over your head so that you did not get a sunburn. 
Alastor suddenly stopped. He felt the corners of his mouth twitching uncontrollably, his face burning, his blackened heart thunder against his ribs, and worse off…his eyes. He felt them changing to radio dials, followed by the unpleasant sound of a record scratching. And all because he is thinking about you, and what he-he did to you! He kissed you!
This is preposterous! Ridiculous. Why are these feelings simply getting worse and not better? Blast it all! 
He inhaled slowly, deeply, through his nose and out through his mouth, matching it in tandem with his stride. By the time he reached the entrance to Rosie’s Emporium, Alastor felt his quickened pulse steady itself and he was calm again. Pulling the right stained glass open, he went inside and all the way towards the back of the establishment to see his dear friend sitting behind a counter, consulting a distressed young lady. Rosie was calm and cheerful as always, dressed to the nines with a lovely smile as she handed her client a business card. 
Cannibal Town was truly lucky to have a delightful overlord reign over them.
When she looked up, ready to help the next person in the long line, their eyes met. He smiled, waving at her. She immediately perked up, rising from her chair and weaving through the crowd. Well, more like they willingly stepped aside so that their leader could walk to him, but same difference~!
Oh, that was a good joke, ha-ha!
“Oh Alastor, it’s so good to see you!” Rosie exclaimed, grabbing his shoulders and spinning him around in a small circle. “I haven’t heard from you in a while, I was starting to worry that you forgot about me, though I could forgive you if you fill me in on all of the details that’s happened~!” She grinned. “I hear our princess’ hotel is finally finished with those renovations, all ready to accept all the sinners she could dream of! Oh, and Alastor, you truly haven’t let me down this time! The angel flesh we’ve managed to bring back? Well, not only is it absolutely divine in terms of flavor, but people are coming from miles around just to sample some~! ‘Course, with our limited stock, we need to increase the price just a wee bit. Business is booming, and it’s all thanks to you, my friend~!” She blinked, tilting her head to the side. “Hm? Is everything all right, old chap? You’re never this quiet unless those little gears in your mind are turning~!”
Alastor felt the corner of his mouth twitch. No, he told himself fiercely. Keep yourself calm, tell Rosie that there is absolutely nothing wrong and you just thought about stopping by to pass the time, not because you need her help. And even if you do, desperately, you cannot say it here for all of the world to hear!
But the only sound that escaped his mouth was the chirping of radio static. Nothing else. Nothing except the memory of his mouth being burnt from his earlier actions. His eyes widened slightly. Fuck. He was thinking about you again! When will this madness stop?!
He did not know how Rosie knew that he was in fact, not all right, but her jubilant smile softened, and before he realized what was happening, she was pushing him into a corner of the emporium. Two fuschia-colored lounge chairs and a coffee table with a tea tray resting on top of the dark wood, adjacent to the shop’s windows. This was the very same spot where she had dragged Charlie to sit down and ask why Hell’s princess had come to visit her. 
This was…not a good sign. He thought as he sat down in the chair opposite of Rosie’s, watching his old friend gracefully follow his example. Not at all. 
“Now, what’s going on with you? It’s rare for you to be the strong, silent type.” Rosie said, leaning forward. “I heard bits and pieces about what happened between you and that angel in charge of the exterminators, but I’m not gonna pry. You clearly got more on your mind than angels.” 
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Rosie has known Alastor for a long time. He’s a showman with all the flair and music at his beck and call, someone who isn’t all talk with no actions behind them. If there is something he wants, he’ll use his charm to get it before anyone realizes what happened. That’s how he rose through the ranks so quickly when he arrived, after all. But seeing him in a state of stunned silence like this…well, it worried her a bit. So she stood up, removing the tea tray from the coffee table with a snap of fingers, and gestured to Alastor to follow her. 
He did.
Normally her clients were more than happy to discuss their problems within hearing range because it was the usual sort of issues everyone dealt with: a bad-tasting spouse, decoration advice, gossip on the latest trends in the Pentagram and rumors about the other overlords, etc. But Alastor….well, he definitely was not going to open up about his problems just like that. He preferred to keep things private, and there was nothing wrong with that in her opinion. So she led them to the parlor, a cozy little room with vintage furniture and fuschia wallpaper with flowers on them. There were enough enchantments in them to drown out explosions from the outside and keep anyone from hearing their conversation. Of course, no one is that silly to be that disrespectful in her store like that, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.
The tea tray popped up on the coffee table, landing with a light clink. Everything was still warm and fresh as she poured the steaming liquid in the cups. One for herself, and one for him. Alastor inclined his head towards her as he accepted the tea. Oh my, the poor dear’s hands were shaking. Now she was starting to get very worried about her friend. 
“Alastor, what’s wrong?” She asked, cradling her teacup and saucer with one hand as she stirred in a pinch of sugar. “Nothing will get past the walls, I swear.  You know me, darling. But I can’t help you if you can’t tell me what’s going on -”
“I kissed her.”
She blinked. “Come again?” She asked. 
“I…kissed someone, Rosie. An associate at the princess’ hotel. We made a deal in my radio tower and I kissed her.” Alastor’s fingers tightened around the handle of his teacup. His ears were pressed flat against his head, his face was flushed bright red and his eyes filtered between red irises and radio dials. Oh, shit. Better take this slowly or he’ll combust. Rosie took a sip of her tea. 
“All right, so you kissed an associate who works at the hotel. Do I know her?”
“Yes.”
“Well, who is she?”
“[First Name].”
“Ah, the girl with the metal arms and the giant…hobby horse?” Rosie thought for a moment. “Couple o’ people said that she was wielding that thing like a baton! Smashed some angel’s heads too!” She chuckled, but noticed the deep sigh leaving her friend as he placed the tea down, reclining against his chair with a gloved hand over his face. She smiled apologetically. “Sorry, sorry. Keep going. Start from the beginning.”
“....She came to the hotel after seeing the commercial everyone made. We were not hiring any staff. Charlie wanted more sinners to come and try to redeem themselves. But [First Name] was stubborn. She and Vagatha did an interview and decided that the best thing they could offer to her was being a groundskeeper. Someone who could keep the place nice and neat, gardening and landscaping. The conditions Charlie laid out to her were that she needed to participate in the activities and make actual progress in changing her ways. In exchange, she’d be given food and board. I tell you, from the moment I saw her, I thought she’d be another form of entertainment~! Imagine, someone who can’t crack an egg, someone who struggles with day to day tasks because she has prosthetics from the Great War! She’s killed people, Rosie, she’s had front row seats to the depravity of humanity and she still believes Charlie’s dream will work! What a joke! What an absolute fool!” He laughed. The sound bounced off of the walls, sending a small chill down Rosie’s spine. 
Alastor wasn’t laughing like when someone tells a dad joke he finds greatly funny or makes an ass out of themselves. He sounded….hollow. Confused. 
“So why is that I feel so terrible for what I had done, Rosie?” He asked. “She had stumbled upon a secret she should have never known and I made a deal with her to keep her quiet. I did what I needed to protect myself. But I can’t get the memory of how she looked at me out of my mind! She was angry, Rosie, and keep in mind that this is a girl who doesn’t show her emotions as easily as others, and she showed me how angry she was towards me! She was disappointed, resentful, and I don’t know what compelled me to kiss her hand but I did because there was some silly notion in the back of my mind, thinking that it would comfort her! How could a kiss do that?! It makes no sense, what I’m feeling makes no sense!” He suddenly straightened himself up in the chair, and he removed his hand from his eyes….just for Rosie to see the frustration and desperation in them. 
“What’s wrong with me, Rosie?” He asked. “Tell me there’s something I can do to forget what I’m feeling right now or I fear I won’t be able to escape this madness!”  
“I don’t think you’d be able to, my friend.” She said. Rosie knew what he was going through because she had been in the same situation too, far too many times and it was because of these experiences that everyone came to her for advice on romance. “Al, my dear silly man…you’re in love with this girl. And it’s pretty clear that this love runs deep. You wouldn’t feel terrible for what you did if you didn’t care about her, right?” 
He looked at her, stunned. “I…beg your pardon, old friend? I….care for her? I love her?” 
Rosie nodded. “You do. And you fucked up your chance at building a proper relationship with her because of this deal you made.”
“That was insurance!”
“And it destroyed her trust in you. You said she was a soldier, right?” When Alastor nodded, she continued. “Well, soldiers need comrades they can trust to watch their backs as much as they need accurate information on enemy forces. You were her comrade, someone she could trust and now…she can’t. That’s why she was angry with you.” She tilted her head. “But it’s up to you if you want to rectify the mistake you made…or let it be the reason why she may never see you in the same way as you see her.” 
“Then teach me, Rosie.” He seethed, leaning forward as he slammed a fist against the table, causing the tea tray to rattle. “Teach me how to forget these feelings because I do not want nor need to love someone to live a fulfilling afterlife. Love makes a person weak! A smile is a more valuable tool than love! It inspires your friends, keeps your enemies guessing, and ensures what comes your way, you are in control!” 
Rosie glared pointedly at him. “Mister, you are most definitely not in control. If you ask me, stifling these feelings towards [First Name] are just going to make things worse.” She sighed. “Do you remember how we first met? You were a fresh face, the newest overlord around the block after you overthrew all the rest. But the big, bad Radio Demon couldn’t even find the meeting room and asked me for directions with that cute little smile of yours. Gotta tell ya, you were a sweetie then, though Carmilla back then…well, she didn’t know what to think of you.” She smiled, leaning forward and placed her hand on top of Alastor’s. “Asking for help and guidance doesn’t make someone weak, old friend. And it isn’t bad to feel love towards someone, even if you are an ace in the hole.” She winked.
 His smile twitched. “I really wish you would tell me what that phrase means.”
“Where’s the fun in that? It’s entertaining to see you keep guessing every time I say it!” Rosie laughed. “So…what are you going to do?”
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“Words are cheap, but actions speak the truth. If you’re serious about serenading this girl, then you need your actions to reach her. Keep me posted, okay? You’ve got this.”  That was what Rosie had told him as she walked him out of the emporium, giving him a brief hug and a warm smile before retreating back inside. Now, here he is, walking back to the hotel and back to you.
He had no idea how he was going to face you after what he had done. He gritted his teeth. As much as he wanted to keep his distance from you and be out of his afterlife for good, Rosie….had been correct. Eliminating what he felt would only make things worse, especially if Husker or that pint-sized fool who calls himself the King of Hell try to steal you away from him before he could do anything. 
Shaking his head, Alastor continued his trek through the city and towards the Pentagram’s outer borders, on the hillside where the fluorescents of the hotel glowed in the distance like a lighthouse in a raging storm at sea.
Blessedly the lobby was devoid of any residents or staff when he had returned, so he had assumed that everyone was at dinner or had gone to bed. It wasn’t too late in the afternoon if he recalled correctly, but time was difficult to keep track of in Hell unless one had a pocket watch or one of Vox’s silly little devices, neither of which he had on his person. In an instant he teleported himself to the hotel’s western wing, ready to freshen a bit before cooking up a meal for himself to enjoy in the privacy of his room when he felt a thrum of power vibrate beneath his feet. 
He glanced down, raising an eyebrow at the darkness on the floor before the shadow grinned, showing off a void of bright crimson for a mouth. Ah, yes. This little traitor. Of all the ones he has in his possession, this is the culprit responsible for the crime of stalking you without his consent. 
“Well, well, where have you been today~?” 
The shadow chuckled darkly, rising up from the floor and floated in the air, twisting its smoky body around him like a snake…no. It’s as if this little shit is performing a little dance of his own. But what for exactly? What is the grand occasion? Has someone died? The shadow shook its head, still grinning and conjured a sphere of green flames in its hands. Inside of it, Alastor could see you and Niffty in the kitchen cooking dinner and then the image disappeared, shifting to a scene where the two of you are putting ingredients together for…apple pies? Alastor gritted his teeth. 
He’s gone not even for a day and Lucifer Morningstar has the audacity to make the calls on desserts. Blasphemy! This is absurd! UNACCEPTABLE!
The shadow’s flames then evaporated into nothingness…and in its hand was a single hair ribbon. Your hair ribbon. Swallowing the lump lodged in his throat, he carefully took it from the shadow’s hand, cradling it in the center of his palm. To have something of yours to take for himself, and covet and yearn in silence until the time was ripe was the only method he had to satiate his darker hunger.
To think something as silly as your scent could tide something as fickle as his temper over was baffling, but it was comforting nonetheless.
Alastor’s thumb stroked the worn-out fabric, admiring its crimson hue beneath the fluorescent light of the hotel hallways. Before he could stop himself, the Radio Demon pressed his lips against it. The scent of cinnamon and ink made his mouth water, hungry for more than just a hair ribbon to pocket as a trophy. But like all good things and in the art of being a clever serial killer, patience is key. It shouldn’t be too difficult to lure his prey into his arms. After all, he is a true gentleman.
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Taglist: @rorusena @alastor-simp @imperfectbloodmoon @anielly-2010 @bones4thecats @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @oucx @ang3lofdivinity @tonightwrites @chewbrry @horrorgirlshell @bladeismine @yourdoorisunlocked @no1sillybilly @mentallyunstablenoodle @solandis-does-stuff @facelessfionna @tired-of-life-86 @yandere-dark-cupid @pinkgoldweebgirl @lovely-nightmares @luthefriendlywitch @asianfrustration13 @lunaramune @lanxianschoenheit @zenix108 @solesurvivorjen @kanroji-san @whenitgrowsbright @aconfusedwonderland @candyladycry @ozzersauce @sleepy-hutao @justamegafan @the-cat-queen-peasants @swallowtail-lotus @circeyoru
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mrsharrington83 · 2 months
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Idiots in Love
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REQUESTED – My asks are open if you have a request ^_^
Summary; (For the sake of this fic, Steve and Nancy never happened) Steve and reader being dumb and having moments of being iconic together. Since everyone knows that Steve isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, maybe he just needs another person to be as dumb as him or maybe he just needs someone else to match him mentally.
Words; 3.4k
warnings; swearing, usual stranger things, things, slight mention of drug use, blood and injury. not proof read.
A/N; thank you for all the requests! I apologise for taking so long getting through them all. i cant write a 0.5k-1.0k fic for the life of me at the minute! Its 2am for me now, but i really wanted to get this out!
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Dustin said Steve was an idiot because he had too much hair on top of his head which left too much room for air. For you, Dustin said it was because you’d been around Steve for far too long.
Hawkins, Indiana, 1983.
School was a bore, you tried your hardest and whilst you did ace some classes, you also completely failed in others. Picking up extra tuition and getting help from anyone who would give it to you was a struggle. You didn’t like asking for help, it made you feel dumb, but more than that, it made you feel useless. Why did you struggle so much in certain classes and not in others?
You honestly thought it was from a fall you had as a child when you were learning how to ride a bike. Your father had stupidly taken off your stabiliser wheels and let you go on the hill of your childhood garden, right into a tree. Whilst you were fine overall, you did end up with a nasty bump on your head.
Not only were you not that smart academically, but you were also very accident-prone, which is how you met Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington. You weren’t the most popular person in school, you had a small group of friends and that was enough for you. You didn’t want to be known by everyone. As you walked down the busy hall to your locker, hardly taking in your surroundings and paying attention, you slammed into someone’s back. Your extra tuition books and folders fell to the floor,
“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going!” The person you slammed into turned around, Steve Harrington, one of the most popular, sought for guys in school looking down at you, “I- I” you stuttered and he smiled, placing his sunglasses on the top of his head, he always found your first meeting adorable, it was something the party had heard several times and not got bored of hearing it. The nervousness in your eyes, the way you pushed some of your hair back behind your ear. The way you bent down to get your books, just as he was doing the same. Your heads collided and bounced off each other, his glasses joining your books on the floor, thankfully not broken,
“Shit! Sorry!” It was Steve’s turn to apologise as he slipped his discarded glasses into his pocket and pulled all of your books and folders into his arms, standing quickly so as not to embarrass himself further, “are you okay?” you just laughed and nodded, taking the books from his arms as you thanked him. That was the start of yours twos budding romance.
Hawkins, Indiana, October, 1984
It was a constant source of amusement for the party, they couldn’t believe some of the stuff you and Steve came out with half the time and how you were both so in sync,
***
“Maybe if we set this on fire,” Mike stated as he looked toward all the drawings on the floor,
“Oh, yeah. That’s a no.” Steve bites back, shaking his head, throwing a tea towel over his shoulder as he leaned on one foot, hand on his hip,
“A double no at that,” you called back to scrambling kids who were already gathering supplies and pointing at drawings on the floor,
“The mind flayer would call away his army,”
“They’d all come to stop us,”
“We circle back to the exit,”
“Guys.” Steve interrupted the party as they carried on talking between themselves, rushing around, completely ignoring the two older people in the house,
“By the time they realise we’re gone-“
“El would be at the gate,”
“HEY, HEY, HEY, this is not happening!” You and Steve bellowed over the party as they stopped to look at the both of you, your arms falling around as Steve grabbed the tea towel from his shoulder, whipping the air,
“Do you two share the same brain cell?” Dustin looked towards you both,
“No!” you both shouted in unison again, looking towards each other before laughing, the kids joining you.
***
They were all ecstatic when they found out you were both dating, though they did have to push you both in the right direction, this whole thing was an unlikely friendship between people. The only reason you were involved with Dustin and his friends was because you babysat him whilst his mum was at work, this caused you to get involved with the disappearance of Will last year and in turn, with you being close to Steve. He was brought into the mix also.
It was so obvious to others, how you both felt about each other, but it wasn’t for you and Steve. After some coxing and words of wisdom from the younger party, as you called it. You and Steve were finally an item, though they didn’t find out until months later when Steve let it slip,
“Dustin, stop picking on my girlfriend, would you?” Steve looked up from his plate of food as he moved bacon around with his fork, leaning back against the dining room chair as he stretched,
“But she just- wait? What... girlfriend?” Dustin looked back and forth between you both, the pair of you looking confused, “you’re meant to tell us!” Steve carried on moving food around his plate as you took a bite of toast leaning against the counter,
“Tell you what?” you asked wiping the crumbs off your hands onto a discarded tea towel,
“Have you been listening to any of this conversation?!” Dustin questioned, “That you’re together! I can’t believe this! How long have you two been a thing?! Wait until the others find out about this!” You picked up your plate with half a slice of toast left and took a seat opposite Steve as Dustin still stood shocked, playing with his walkie,
Steve finished up his food and stood up to put his plate in the sink, he looked at the calendar furrowing his brows slightly at the small writing, “Like seven months? Right?” he looked back at you as you nodded, your mouth full of toast.
Dustin once again stood dumbfounded, his mouth visibly agape as he pressed a button on his walkie, “you are not going to believe this, guys.”
Hawkins, Indiana, June 1985
“Oh, this is ridiculous.” You smoothed out part of your Scoops uniform that was now creased and bloody from your split lip and Steve’s as he was continuously hunching over you in a Russian loading car trying to gather his senses and not be knocked from pillar to post by Dustin’s driving up front, laughter bubbling in your throat, the situation was anything, but funny. All three of you (Steve, Y/N, and Robin) had been interrogated to the max, but once they found out there was a tie between you and Steve, they took advantage of that.
***
“Who do you work for?” the guard got down into your face once more, holding the arms of the chair you were tied to, his eyes glaring into your own,
“How many times do I have to tell you I work for Scoops Ahoy? I scoop ice cream for a living!” you cried out as you earned another slap across your already throbbing jaw. Steve was tied up behind you already passed out, they’d done a number on him and all you wanted to do was get out of this place and tend to his injuries, he didn’t deserve any of this. Robin was tied to the corner of the room having to witness her two new best friends being treated like this.
The Russian guard got in your face once more, “it looks like your friend here needs a doctor. Just as well we have the very best.” A smirk across his face made you see red, and without thinking you spat at him. A slight tinge of blood from your split lip was dripping down your chin, staining the collar of your uniform, “you’re going to regret that little one.” With that he muttered something else in Russian before leaving the room with the other guards, leaving you three on your own once more, but not without Robin calling them all bastards and yelling to let you all out of there.
“Steve?” you called gently as Robin tried to manoeuvre her arms from her binds to no avail. Unlike you two, she was tied to a bench so she couldn’t do much whilst she was bound up. Steve started to stir, pain evident in the way he groaned, “oh thank god... are you okay?” you asked quietly not wanting to be too loud,
“Ears are ringing, I can barely breathe and, my eye feels like it’s about to pop out of my skull, but apart from that I’m doing pretty good.” His voice was laced with pain and sarcasm.
***
You were pulled out of your thoughts as you came to an abrupt end, all three of you hitting already pained parts of your body as Dustin crashed into something,
“You guys alright back there?” Dustin asked as he looked to Erica with a slight shrug, “They’re fine, come on. Let’s go.” Dustin hurried out and opened the back of the loading car, hurrying you all out. Time was of the essence after all. This definitely made him think about how he acted sometimes, it was a handful and the fact you and Steve cared for him and all of his friends ample times made him furrow his brow slightly, not that he would change after they got out of this mess, he had an excuse, he was still younger than you.
 “Guys! Come on!” Dustin bellowed as he huffed in annoyance, slapping his wrist, and ushering everyone into the elevator.
“Oh my god! A skateboard!” you screamed out in joy, jumping on a red platform truck as Dustin got to work pressing buttons and hoping for the best, once the elevator started to move, you started to struggle. Steve grabbed hold of the platform truck to stop it from moving too much,
“It looks like you're surfing!” Robin pointed at you as Dustin and Erica glanced at each other quite clearly done with your shit.
“They look drunk,” Erica stated, all of you now splayed on the floor talking about food, “why are they drunk, or drugged?” she questioned as Dustin felt Steve’s forehead,
“He’s burning up,” Dustin spoke to Erica alarmed,
“You’re burning up” Steve bit back, trying to push Dustin away with his hand whilst you and Robin laughed at the ceiling,
 “Eyes are bloodshot, pupils dilated, Steve,” Dustin pat his cheek lightly, “are you drugged?”
“How many times, Dad? I don’t do drugs. It’s only marijuana.” Steve poked Dustin’s cheek and started laughing again as you and Robin shot up,
“you have marijuana?!” you crawled over to Steve and laid next to him, “gimme!” more laughs erupted from the three of you as Dustin and Erica watched on, wondering what the hell they were going to do to get you all out of this mess in one piece.
Getting you all back to the mall safely was a lot harder than Dustin could have imagined, Robin was picking at her uniform whilst tripping up over thin air whilst you and Steve were trailing behind humming and drumming the air to Simple Minds- Don’t You (Forget About Me) a song that had been on the radio continuously for the past month- a song Dustin thought you were both getting annoyed with as it came on the radio hours before you were in this mess and you were both scrambling with the radio to turn it off with rushed words of, fuck sake, turn it off, not this again, if I hear this song one more time I swear,
“Don’t you, forget about me.”
“Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t.”
“Don’t you, forget about me.”
Keeping you all hidden from the Russians was a lot harder than it could have been, with you three wanting food, and then trying to separate to find food, Dustin thought of a quick solution and got you all into the movie theatre but not before Steve reached into the bin to pull out a bag of discarded popcorn,
“You three sit.” Dustin pointed at the three vacant chairs as you all complained about being too close, and how the seats sucked. “Well then don’t watch the movie!”
“But we want to watch the movie!” Robin exclaimed as other people around you started to get agitated,
“Then watch it!” Dustin apologised to other people trying to shush you all, changing his tone to a hushed annoyed whisper, “Whatever you do. Don’t... go... anywhere.”
“Fine, Dad.” Steve perked up shaking his shoulders slightly as you and Robin snickered, taking handfuls of popcorn and shoving it in your mouth.
“That settles it,” Dustin huffed, “I'm never having kids." The pair sat down a few seats away, keeping their eyes off you trying to fetch up a plan.
Once they both realised you three had left the movie theatre, Dustin let out an audible sigh from his chest, this day, was not it.
“So, like, I wasn’t totally focused in there or anything, but... I’m pretty sure...that mum was trying to bang her son.” Robin leaned against the wall as you and Steve took turns drinking water from the fountain,
“But they’re the same age.” you stopped drinking and looked towards Robin,
“No, but he went back in time.” Robin looked up to the ceiling, balancing on one foot and then the other,
“Then why is it called back to the future?” Steve asked confused as he stopped drinking, letting Robin get to the fountain.
“It doesn’t make any sense,” you stated “Back means past so how could he be travelling back to something that hasn’t even happened yet?” you questioned Robin, Steve looking at you doe-eyed, completely agreeing with you,
“He has to go back to the future because he’s in the past, so, the future is actually the present, which is his time” Robin added as you looked confused,
“wh...What?” you and Steve looked at each other astonished before you both got distracted by the ceiling lights, dizziness, and churning in your stomach had you all rushing to the toilet, bringing up everything that happened in the day.
“Well that was no fun,” your voice was harsh, your throat sore as you leaned back against the cold wall of the cubical, no longer dizzy, everything still, the walls no longer moving around you, “Back to the Future though, I can’t get over that.”
***
Hawkins, Indiana, March 1986
Walking into the creel house was way more disturbing than it looked outside, creaking floorboards, furnishings covered in dust and cobwebs, completely derelict, wherever you stood, something creaked.
Lucas went to check on a small lamp for some light, probably to take the edge off an already eerie situation, “looks like someone forgot to pay their electric bill.” He stated as Dustin turned on his flashlight, you and Steve stood behind him glancing back and forth to each other,
“Where’d everyone get those?” Steve asked noticing that everyone had one except you and him.
Dustin looked back at the both of you as if to say unbelievable, “Do you two need to be told everything? You’re not children.”
“Thank you.” You said under your breath a little, huffing as Dustin took his backpack off,
“Back pocket.” He was used to you both forgetting things like that, you were both usually good with weapons and things you might need, and everything you didn’t, but never flashlights. You really did need to be told.
Max pointed out a big grandfather clock, hoping that everyone else could see it taking you away from looking at the scattered furniture,
“Why is this wizard obsessed with clocks?” you asked looking at the hands that were still,
“Maybe he’s, like, a clockmaker or something?” Steve said next to you, as you pursed your lips actually thinking about it,
"I think you cracked the case, Steve.” Dustin chimed in, shaking his head in disapproval as you watched on, nudging Dustin slightly. Nancy told everyone to go in groups of two leaving you, Steve and a smiling Dustin. Steve let out a sigh and walked off signalling you to follow, “Was that a sigh?”
“No, I did not sigh.”
“Why’d you sigh?”
“I didn’t sigh. Just come on, dude.”
“I heard you.”
“We were just always partnered up with you, okay?”
“You have a problem with that?”
“It’d just be nice to, I don’t know, mix it up a bit.”
You continued to walk the stairs, creaking with every other step, as Dustin hurried up behind you, the pair of them starting to bicker a bit, a usual occurrence, “I’m boring to you? Is that it?”
“No it’s the opposite,” Steve added as he moved his (Dustin’s) flashlight around careful not to knock anything off the walls,
“Maybe me and Y/N should partner up and you go around this creepy house alone, is that what you want?” Dustin asked as Steve shot his head around almost tumbling back down the stairs,
“No! I don’t want that, sorry man.” Steve moved his hair that had fallen a little flat huffing once more. “We do make a good team, The Three Musketeers and all that.” You smiled at Steve’s remark, it was a book you both had to read when you were at school, though boring at the time, the lessons you learned from the book stayed with you. Chivalry, honour, heroics, and willingness. It was true. You, Steve, and Dustin probably had spent the most time together because even though you could both be a bit daft from time to time, you were both reliable and trustworthy with any problem Dustin had, even if that meant issues outside of the upside down. You both never found anything that Dustin had to say daft.
“Hey, uh, Henderson?” Steve asked, looking at the cobwebs that littered the place, “could you maybe, uh, clarify what sort of clues we’re supposed to be looking for here?”
“I second that,” you cut in,
“The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes.” Dustin looked back at the both of you smiling, “Sherlock Holmes.” Seeing you both confused he huffed sincerely.
“That’s great. Thanks. That’s great. Really helpful” You huffed and shook your head, feeling dumb as Steve placed a hand on your shoulder, rubbing his thumb slowly, a knowing glance only the both of you understood.
“You're not stupid, not to me anyway.” Steve smiled as a small laugh escaped your lips a small vent in the floor catching your eyeline as you walked over to it, “Y/N, let me.” Steve crouched down in front of you lifting the metal from the floor, jars of preserved insects had you grimacing before Steve shot up alarmed, shaking his arm and flailing his hand to get a spider off, both of you clumsily falling through cobwebs and the door, into Nancy,
“Hey, hey, both of you, stay still. Stop moving.” She took time to rid you both of cobwebs as she lightly dusted dust off your arm, you and Steve then looking over each other,
“It was a black widow.” Steve lets out a breath of air, calmer than he was before, “Don’t go in there.” He shut the door adverting his attention back to you, moving a stray piece of your hair behind your ear, kissing your nose lightly. “So uh, Nance. Maybe after we find Vecna, kill him, save the world, and stuff. Maybe we can all go out. You know? Me, Y/N, you, Jonathan, when he’s back.”
“I’d love to.” Nancy looked at you both endearingly, she was glad you both had each other. Everyone needed someone. She knew you both back in school, but never really spoke to either of you. She was too wrapped up in perfecting her grades, reading the next book on the shelf, but she was so thankful to be in your lives now.
Steve was finally with someone he could be himself around without feeling bad or awkward, even in this messed up world the both of you bounced off each other as though it were effortless. Although you were sometimes the biggest idiots, you were the biggest idiots in love.
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apclyptc · 6 months
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NSFW ALPHABET— CHRIS STURNIOLO
warnings— obviously suggestive content, if u don’t like don’t read kinda thing. nsfw will be under the cut!
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
chris does his best with aftercare i feel like. he’ll always bring you a towel, ask if you want anything like a drink or even just a cuddle.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
he loves everything about you, he doesn’t seem like the type to be judgemental about anyone’s body. but he specifically loves your hips, and always wants to have his hands on them whether that’s in bed or just in public. as for himself, he likes his back. especially when your scratch marks are all over it.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
loves cumming on your face. i said what i said. there’s something so hot about seeing your cute innocent face ruined with his cum. also in your mouth. chris loves seeing you swallow every last drop.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
has a pair of your panties in his room. whenever he can’t be around you, he will use the underwear to get off. he’s not even ashamed about it.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
definitely not a virgin. he’s not like some crazy sex fiend but he has enough experience to know what to do. he also has a need to be good at everything so he makes sure he knows exactly what you like.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
doggy. he is a doggy man. buuuuut when he’s feeling extra clingy he wants you to ride him so he can see your pretty face.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
definitely likes to have fun with it, chris doesn’t take anything too seriously so it makes sense that he is the same in bed. it’s only when he’s close to finishing that he gets really into it.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
he doesn’t like to be completely bare down there. it feels weird. but he would also die of embarrassment if he wasn’t well groomed so he keeps the hair short and tamed to prevent any awkwardness when y’all are going at it.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
he can deny it all he wants but he would be sooooo lovey. of course, if he’s been stressed lately or you tease him too much, he gets kind of wild.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
would honestly prefer you do it for him. but if you aren’t with him, he just goes to his photo collection of you or the video you made together and uses that instead.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
chris is a simple guy. he’s not overly kinky but he does enjoy to give you light slaps from time to time. and he’s a sucker for fucking you to the point you can’t even speak. and then there was that one time with the handcuffs…..
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
he doesn’t really venture out anywhere other than his and your bed. or sometimes the couch in the warehouse. and over the desk in the conference room. and sometimes public bathrooms. and also the kitchen. actually he’s pretty much down to go at it anywhere as long as there’s no one around.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
if you wear his clothes, he can not do anything all day until you have sex. if you play with his hair he will be in the mood instantly. he’s always ready whenever the fuck you want him. (lol.)
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
would never consider a threesome. he’s too possessive for that. he’s also not a fan of choking. he just doesn’t want to risk hurting you in a bad way.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
no one can convince me that this man isn’t a munch. he just loves eating you out. and he’s good at it too. he would happily do it for hours. as for receiving, he loves that too. especially if he’s had a rough day, the best way for him to relax is if he’s fucking your face.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
chris likes to start off slow and gradually go faster. but it’s a different story if you’ve teased him, he will refuse to go faster just to annoy you. if you’re in missionary he enjoys going slow too, it feels more intimate that way.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
quickies whenever, wherever. he does not care. he still prefers to take his time in bed with you, but he is never opposed to a quick fuck.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
there was one time when you almost got caught by his parents. and that one time where you actually got caught by nick. after that, you both agreed not to be too risky when others were around.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
chris is too obsessed with you to last for a lot of rounds. it’s usually one or two, but he always makes sure he lasts longer than you.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
he never uses any on himself. not when he has you. he does have a couple for you, but why use them when he doesn’t need them? he can do it all by himself.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
chris was born to tease. in any setting, he loves to make you needy . he finds it especially fun to tease you when there are others around. it’s unnoticeable things, like placing a hand on your upper thigh, sneaking a hand underneath your top, whispering things in your ear about all the things he wants to do to you when you’re alone. it drives you crazy.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
even if he tried, chris can’t help but be vocal. whether it be grunts or soft groans, he always vocalises how good you make him feel. when he’s close, you have him fully moaning and sometimes the occasional whine slips out if he’s really into it.
he does it on purpose sometimes because he knows you like it.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
chris often rips apart your panties when you fuck just so he can take you to buy more and get you to try them on in the fitting rooms. he always ends up following you in just so he can fuck you in front of the mirror.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
what chris doesn’t have in girth, he makes up for in length. his dick is the perfect amount of thickness that you like, with an impressive size that he knows how to use. the veins on either side make his dick truly delicious.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
this guy doesn’t have an off switch. he’s so attracted to you, even just seeing a photo you send him makes his pants tighten and he can’t help but need you.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
he usually just waits until you fall asleep to get comfortable. most of the time neither of you fall asleep so he gets to talk to you and cuddle while you relax.
a/n: matt next? hope u enjoyed my take!
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© APCYLPTC 2023. do not repost, translate, or duplicate any of my works here or any other websites.
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jhuzen · 11 months
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terms of service [m.reader]
what do you mean it’s been a whole week since i said i’d post this? pretty sure today is still tonight. anyway, this is based on this godly ask! this is… extra long. i’m sorry i got carried away 😭 it’s honestly going to be a lot longer if i didn’t cut out some scenarios. jadiksodc.
𖦹 nsfw, top reader, virgin haitham i literally have no idea what else to say.
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“Have you ever even gotten laid?”
Alhaitham’s eyes stopped at the last sentence of another book he’s buried his nose into. The night was quiet — save for the sounds of the burning embers from the campfire as well as the snores of one tiny fairy that laid beside you. The nights are cold in the desert, but it sure was enough to keep him awake. He’s been searching for ways to solve the problem with the suspicious Grand Sage, and you were kind enough to help.
You were revered across all lands apparently — even reaching the isolated Inazuma before the vast Sumeru in the first place. And while Alhaitham has every confidence in his own knowledge and meticulously calculated strategies in solving problems, he wasn’t one to take away credit from you, who protected him and fended off any other Eremites that tried to cut off his plan.
He found you reserved, keeping to yourself while the tiny floating chatterbox spoke for you like she was your advisor. You did find yourself talking to him at times, but most of it was either your agreements in his plans, your little snide remarks when he did something that both you and your flying companion considered as remotely pretentious. And quite frankly, he did not want to expend any form of effort to defend himself. If that’s how he came across to you, then so be it.
However, even with the limited time that he’s known you, he never pegged you for someone this… sheer.
In fact, he never expected it so much that he even did his own version of a double take, looking up at you with eyes that brimmed with curiosity and slight surprise. And yet, there you were, casually polishing your sword so diligently, tongue sticking out in determination with your brows furrowed in concentration.
Like you never asked him such a… question.
The scribe had half a mind to ignore your sudden query — chalk it up into a auditory hallucination and continue on with his reading. But his mind knew better; that if he left it at that, he would be perturbed until the end of his days, and Alhaitham is a practical man, meaning he’d rather get the trouble you suddenly placed on him out of the way than go through such feelings.
“Pardon?”
“Hm?”
Alhaitham narrowed his eyes, were you now planning to pretend like you never asked the question in the first place? He cleared his throat, “You said something. And I think I misheard. Care to repeat?”
Your gaze met his before blinking, “Oh. I was just asking if you’ve even ever gotten laid in the first place,” you laughed while you turned back to your well-groomed sword, continuing to polish it with refined movements. “Sorry, it’s an out of the line question, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” he curtly replied, but even he could not extinguish the sudden curiosity that rose from him. “Though why even ask me that question seeing that you’re fully aware the invasive nature of it in the first place? What spurred this on?”
“Hm? Oh, nothing much, really. It’s just that you’re good looking but you seem to be the type to not… invest your time in those activities.” Alhaitham wonders where all that cutthroat honesty goes every time you go radio silent within the last few days, barely letting out a peep to talk to anyone while Paimon did the talking for you.
Alhaitham scoffed nonetheless. It was such a shallow reason for you to ask that. Surely pure aesthetics is not a prerequisite to have sex. “Is it a requirement to engage in such activities if I am pleasing to look at?”
Your lips turned up in a cheeky smile as you tore your eyes away from your blade, looking up at the stoic scribe with a mischievous mirth glinting through your eyes, “Well. You eat with your eyes too, right?”
A laugh escapes from your system when Alhaitham instantly made a face. He’s not stupid (far from it really, and the entire Akademiya knows) — he knows the preconceived notions to these play of words. He reeled back at the innuendo, partly taken aback. Just what on earth have you been thinking despite your persistent silence to come up with something as crude as that?
He composed himself, eyes averting from yours and looking back down to resume his reading; but his mind was far from the focus he always maintained when occupied with books.
Alhaitham chewed on his bottom lip discreetly before giving an answer he deemed relatively satisfactory, “…I have no interest for such things. And don’t things like these need to have prior connection in the first place? I’d rather not have attachments to someone. It’s far too bothersome.”
“Oh so that’s why,” you hummed, this time your attention fixated in refining your sword handle. “Well, it wouldn’t hurt to experience new things. And I can even help you. No strings attached.” You offered in a light jest, followed by a chuckle after.
It was a joke offer, of course. You of all people knew that when Alhaitham didn’t want something, he will steer clear from it. However, you only found him remotely interesting because he was so bloody shady in the first place. He was supposed to be an honorable scribe, being held at such a high position, and yet he was dubious enough to even make you buy forbidden cans of knowledges, and even with the partnership you’ve got going on now, you’d find yourself unable to sleep so freely without so much as expecting him to suddenly jump on you.
You simply found him interesting. And true to your love language (that your little traveling companion is often the recipient of), you couldn’t help but tease him, a little prying at something as intimate and private as his sex life (which you now knew to be nonexistent). Just a little jest to mess with him for your entertainment. That’s all.
However Alhaitham had much different perception to your lighthearted teasing. You… were offering him something so intimate as sex with no strings attached. While anyone with a right mind could quickly brush it off as a mere joke with no promises — Alhaitham was quick to entertain the thought of doing it with you without having to suffer the consequences of being in a relationship with someone.
No strings attached, huh. He pursed his lips, eyebrows knitting a little as he mulled over what seems to be an option (though there never was as it was only a joke from your end).
The thought enticed him. Of course, he was doing this for academic purposes and to satisfy the now insatiable curiosity that you placed upon him like an irreversible curse with one specific cure.
He stole a glance from where you sat as he recalled the many times you’ve managed to smooth talk your way into certain situations back in Port Ormos. Exuding confidence and sharp wit, along with a charming face that no one can say no to — also with your… beliefs earlier, Alhaitham was quick to deduce that you are a man whose had plenty of experience in sex. You were most definitely the kind to frolic around with anyone that suits your fancy, especially with how easily you offered to help him like it’s a simple favor from a colleague and nothing more.
The silence that engulfed your group (again, subtracting the snores from Paimon) soon broke when Alhaitham decided to go head in for the kill.
“Okay.”
“What?”
There was a sense of satisfaction that flooded his system when you looked up with a confused look on your pretty face.
Alhaitham cooly brushed off the flustering feeling that slowly nestled into the pits of his stomach, his stomach knotting in anticipation at the thought of taking you up on your generous little offer, “I agree to what you’re offering,” he refused to look at you, continuing to read the words that were barely coherent in his mind now, trying to look as composed as possible. “Just to satisfy certain questions from this sort of activity of course.”
You tilted your head at him, cocking an eyebrow, “Right… so you want to have sex?”
He coughed, “For research purposes.”
“If I had a mora for every time I heard that excuse, I wouldn’t worry about Paimon’s endless appetite by now,” you laughed. “But knowing you, you’re probably telling the truth.”
You were met with a silence from the scribe. Make no mistake however, he was stewing in absolute embarrassment — only glad that his headphones were able to cover up his ears that are sure to be burning up a bright red hue.
“…Are we doing it now?”
He sucked in a sharp breath, “Absolutely not. We have a mission, traveler. And doing such a thing outside… is sure to provide a less than stellar experience.”
You huffed out a laugh before stabbing your blade on the ground, “Man, you really are a virgin. And you have no idea how many freaks are out there that can do it outside even in the midst of a thunderstorm.” It was an exaggeration, but the look of mortification that was plastered on Alhaitham’s usually unfazed face was all the more entertaining. “Anyway, if you’re really serious, then who am I to back out? We’ll finish up this mission quick and then you can ring me up any time.”
Alhaitham could only give a strained nod before finally finding the words on his pocketbook a little more understandable as his mind cleared.
The last grueling days was nothing short of eventful, to say the least. You were somehow able to pull off in fighting an all too big of a god’s body with the vengeful puppet inside. You freed Nahida too, kicked Azar off of his position and destroyed the beloved Akasha that the people of Sumeru found themselves completely dependent on. It was like a blur, with you constantly on the run to ensure that every plan works in your favor, though you weren’t one to take away from Cyno and the rest — with their dutiful cooperation.
And now, you were hailed as a hero in Sumeru much like your past adventures in the last three nations, awarded as Buer’s first Sage added in the roster of your many, many titles. You were celebrated around and all you’ve ever wanted was to go inside your beloved teapot and sleep.
And that you did.
The next days were spent in leisure around Sumeru, getting along with anyone in the vicinity, often offered goods for gratitude. Paimon accepted every single food and you soon found yourself in need to build another display bedside table to decorate with trinkets you’ve received. It was relatively normal for you at least.
And the same could be said for Alhaitham. He can finally do his job with little to no inconvenience now that Azar and his corrupted lackeys aren’t around, banished off to the forests to do whatever is needed to compensate for their misgivings. The boring but doable work on a high pay returned and Alhaitham was at peace.
Up until Lesser Lord Kusanali came to his office, and with the tiny pitter patter of her feet against the cold floors of Akademiya, she walked to his desk with an expectant smile plastered on her adorable face.
Suddenly, Alhaitham was the Acting Grand Sage.
Great. More work for a considerably smaller increase in pay. How… productive and worth it.
And perhaps, that’s how you landed yourself in the confines of Alhaitham’s home in the dead of the night — at his request. His roommate was off and a few days prior after suddenly getting dragged into assisting him in catching another unhinged research with far too much talent yet little intent in seeing the bigger picture, he had asked you to come meet him at night. And he made it very clear to you that you come alone.
You were already aware of the Acting Grand Sage’s insinuation at this point. You’ve been through enough worlds and mingled with enough people to know the universal sign that is “come here alone tonight”.
Well, either you get laid, or… you will be laid in a coffin the next day.
Now here you sat, smiling a little as you sipped some water, watching Alhaitham dry off the droplets of water from his hair after a late night shower. You opted to look over some files strewn across the table to entertain yourself, trying to make sense of any of his work. Judging from the complicated nature of said paperwork, you figured he was already raring for some release. Or at the very least, a change of pace in learning something new other than the onslaught of mad researchers from Akademiya causing trouble for him to fix.
“I have some terms,” Alhaitham suddenly voiced out, pulling you out of your trance as you looked at him inquisitively. You nodded, letting him go on. “Nobody gets to hear a word of what will transpire tonight.”
“…I don’t think I even want anyone to know in the first place.”
He nodded before walking back to some shelves, “Also,” he grabbed a book and tossed it on the table, perfectly sliding towards you with the cover face up. “I’ve done some reading just to know what to expect.”
You huffed out a breath, disguising a genuinely amused laughter. Couldn’t your one night stand get any cuter? He wasn’t even trying too. He was so earnest and so serious, it was hard not to devour him right then and there. You placed your glass of water down the table sauntering up to him, grabbing the lecherous book that he apparently used to come into the battle prepared.
Alhaitham’s eyes widened as you wasted no time in closing the gap. His ears effectively reddening in a split second when he could feel your crotch rub up against his from the sheer proximity that you and the scribe had. There was even barely any room to breathe in the first place. His lips quivered a little as he looked to the side, avoiding your piercing gaze.
You tapped the corner of the book’s spine on his lips, while yours turned up in a sly grin, “Cast aside any expectation that this book have taught you, smart guy. I believe there is merit in learning from experience.” You tossed the book back as your lips latched onto the skin of his neck. You took a deep breath, inhaling the pleasant scent of his body wash. You could feel and hear him shiver from just that action alone, spurring you on to be bolder.
Of course Alhaitham knows that experience is a far better teacher than anything else. But how could he learn anything when the experience itself is detrimental to his sanity as he tried to comprehend your ministrations, from the way your hands were quick to attach themselves onto his narrow waist, your lips slowly mapping and conquering every inch of the skin of his neck, abused with bites that left bruises darker than the decorative rugs in his home.
You pulled away and he was left completely red, you leaned back to admire the work you’ve done on his neck and his collarbone, adorned with splotches of red from the abuse of your mouth.
But before Alhaitham could even recover, you went back in, but this time with your lips on his, “Try to keep up, smart guy. Here’s a crash course on how to kiss someone.”
Alhaitham could barely breathe, but even in the sweet suffocation, he tried to keep up with your lips. You made a mess out of him, your mischievous tongue dragging from the inside of his mouth to his lips to wet them. His jaw hurt and he was out of sorts, with drool dripping down to his chin while you sucked on his tongue, your hands under around his chin to keep him in place. He could only grab onto your shoulders, fingers squeezing against your flesh so tight while he closed his eyes shut, his chest heaving from the breathlessness when you refused to let up on him.
It was already dizzying — he knew you were aggressive on the battlefield, but had he known that you would be like this too, a little warning would’ve been nice.
And before he knew it, still with your lips latched onto his, he started to respond to your advances. Miraculously even with his clouded mind with that lusty haze, he was able to learn from your little techniques, kissing back with need and urgency, and you gladly welcomed him, letting him bite your lip as a test, return the favor as he sloppily sucked your tongue off with the charm of an inexperienced kisser.
It was a mess as you and him stumbled over to the his bedroom, with poor Alhaitham barely noticing until his back landed on the soft mattress of his bed. His eyes were glossed over, clearly in a daze as you pulled away, chuckling at the sight of the infamous stoic scribe who normally looks so put together come undone and become a complete mess with just a simple make out session.
You swiped a thumb over his wet lips, dragging it across his cheek and watched in delight when he slowly gained a bit of clarity.
“We haven’t even gotten to the best part yet, ‘Haitham.”
Alhaitham only scoffed, “You kiss so aggressively. A warning would’ve sufficed.”
“Aw c’mon. It’s just a little warmup,” you tugged into the hem of his shirt and he quickly got the hint, helping you take them off. You only watched in fascination as his body came into view. That tight shirt that he always wore doesn’t do his body justice. He was sculpted so perfectly that even you had to pause for a second to take in his beauty.
The scribe wasn’t fond of your ogling however, “…What?”
“Nothing… it’s just…” you couldn’t even resist the way your hands immediately gravitated towards his chest, palms flat against his pecs before steadily moving them to yours, comparing your sizes. “…Wow. You’re bigger than I am.”
“Do I get a trophy for that then?” Alhaitham quipped without missing a beat.
Unfortunately for him, you were quick-witted, cruel, and knew how to show someone a good time. And you gladly indulged his little jest as you bent down, cupping a hand around one chest, thumbing at his hardening nipple while you gave soft kitten licks on his other swollen bud. An electric feeling jolts through Alhaitham’s system and he could feel himself twitch against the restricting fabric of his pants.
You smirked against his skin, teeth grazing his sensitive nipple, making him jolt and grab onto the back of your head. You raised yourself, watching unabashed while Alhaitham tried to cover up his reddening face. Either this situation was embarrassing enough on it’s own or perhaps he was embarrassed that he liked what you did.
“D-Don’t… look at me like that,” came Alhaitham’s weak protest, voice shaking as he tried to avert his gaze.
“Getting all shy now?” You tilted your head, looking at him with so much amusement. You did not have an ounce of regret for offering jokingly in the first place. To see the hardheaded scribe fold like a shy maiden was something you never knew you needed. “Come now, Alhaitham, it’s not something to be ashamed about. Focus up, buddy. You said this is for research.”
“Quit… i— ah~! Quit it—!” He moaned in between hisses as you shifted your position, with one knee pressing up against his erection with much pressure. It was as if the soft spoken yet courageous hero revered across the lands suddenly disappeared — replaced by this mischievous teasing deviant that toyed with him so shamelessly.
“You make it so easy to tease you,” your hands slowly dragged themselves to the waistband of his pants, tugging at the band and snapping it against his skin. “Is this why our scribe— oh, sorry, our Grand Sage has to keep that no nonsense facade? So they won’t know that you’re just an adorable little boy?”
He clutched onto your wrists that threatened to free his cock from its constraint, “It’s Acting Grand Sage… and it’s not a facade— are you always this chatty when having sex with someone?”
“I’m just trying to get to know you,” you flashed him a grin and his grip on you slowly loosened, a wordless green light to finally see all of him. You obliged his little permission, tugging down his pants and stripping them off of him with little effort. Alhaitham made a subconscious effort of trying to shield himself from your prying eyes — never had he felt this vulnerable before, he could feel his entire body heat up just from the way you looked at him.
Meanwhile you were admiring every groove and curve that sculpted itself into this man’s body. You would most definitely be the envy of the entire Sumeru City had they known that you were the first man to have ever seen Alhaitham this way. Suddenly, the Acting Grand Sage’s term of not wanting anyone else to know about this engagement seemed so tempting to break.
You positioned yourself in between his legs, keeping them apart when Alhaitham so much as tried to close his legs on instinct, you cupped a hand around the base of his cock and relished in the tiny little yelp that left Alhaitham’s mouth, his back arching up in surprise.
“Already so hard, you truly are enjoying this,” you taunt, as if you weren’t feeling the same uncomfortable feeling in your tightening pants. With one hand, you dug into the pocket of your trousers, bringing out a packet of slime condensate and tearing it open, squeezing a handful on your fingers. “I think you know what this is for.”
Alhaitham only nodded, suddenly meek as the insinuation made its presence known. He read a lot for the sake of satiating the gnawing anticipation within him the moment he agreed with your little offer. Alhaitham, after all, never did nurture the bad habit of coming into a situation completely clueless and in the dark. But there was something far more dizzying at the feeling of your touches that could make him feverish, overtaking his senses like a fever dream that he could feel the whole way.
He shivered as your fingers pressed against his rim, drenched in cold lubrication. He lifted his hips out of instinct, his body slowly being compliant to your actions, readily following your bold lead. You took note of his actions, watching the way his chest heaved up in a frantic pace, clearly overwhelmed in anticipation.
“Try to relax,” you ought to soothe his anxieties. Sex isn’t something to be afraid of, after all. It’s meant to be enjoyed by the parties involved. He only nodded, a little strained but it was enough.
An uncharacteristic wail leaves Alhaitham’s mouth as you plunged two fingers inside him. He was warm, his walls already clenching around your digits that were barely even halfway inside. He shifted, hips wriggling at the discomfort. You distracted him from the sensation and slowly worked your other hand around his erection, pumping at a gentle pace.
Alhaitham felt breathless, the haze in his mind continuing to muddle any form of coherent thought that he tried to make. He whimpered quietly as the embarrassment slowly flooded in. He could barely gather himself as you’re jerking him off while fucking him with your fingers, any sense of awareness leaving him bit by bit, replaced with the unencumbered lust that you were holding over him with your ministrations.
“Feels good?” Your words barely registered in his usually sharp mind. He nodded frantically, hands clutching the sheets underneath him. It felt all too good, with your precise hands, from the way you prod around his gummy walls to how you teasingly thumb at the slit of his cockhead, it was an overwhelming pleasure that Alhaitham was suddenly being exposed to.
You weren’t any better. Who knew Alhaitham could look so erotic, his body almost close into going in an autopilot as he responded to your touch with little to no shame. The whimpers and cries that echoed in the room were music to your ears, a blessing to indulge yourself in.
It was hard to hold yourself back from just fucking him into oblivion, and your sentiments wee shared as another cry left Alhaitham.
“M-More~” he whined, completely insatiable as he yearned for something bigger. Your fingers weren’t enough. He needs to feel full, something that could stretch him out until he could barely think. He opened his eyes, bleary with lust and carnal need in comparison to yours that were gleaming with concentration and hunger. “M-More please~” he parroted, unable to find any more words to beg you.
You could feel any form of restraint leaving you as his pleading reached you, already shooting straight down to your dick that twitched in anticipation and raw excitement. You immediately pulled your fingers away, shivering at the moan that you drew out of the man underneath you. Your hands quickly worked to free your own cock, hard and throbbing as it slapped against your stomach. There was a sense of satisfaction that washed over you at the way Alhaitham’s eyes grew wide when he saw you, like a cold water drenching him and pulling him back down to reality.
“Is… that even going to fit?” Alhaitham’s sudden reluctance was all the more endearing, making you laugh.
“I prepared you, didn’t I? But hey, the confidence solely lies on you. If you think you can’t handle it, best we quit ahead.”
He swallowed a lump down his throat before looking at you with a much more determined gaze, “I— N-No… I need to see it through.”
“You can hold my hand if you want,” you offered, lending out your own hand. Normally, Alhaitham would swat it away but did otherwise as he held yours, feeling feverish all of a sudden at the intimacy.
He could feel himself shrink as you positioned yourself in between his legs, towering over him with a reassuring smile. His thighs quivered around you while you lined yourself up in his entrance. He shuddered as your cockhead slowly rubbed up against his entrance, making him writhe in anticipation. Alhaitham met your gaze, suddenly considerate in contrast to your teasing self earlier.
“Don’t think too much of it,” you reassured him one last time. “Just ride out everything that you’re feeling.” You said and he nodded, soaking up every word of yours as he took a deep breath.
Alhaitham jolts at the sudden intrusive feeling once you ease yourself inside him inch by inch. He was quick to clench around your cock and you stopped, heaving a shaky sigh as the feeling of his warm walls around you bring you complete and utter bliss.
“Fuck… so tight, ‘Haitham,” you breathed out, a pleased hiss from your lips with every pulsating clench his walls made around your cock.
The scribe could barely process the feeling as he slowly took you in, his hole squeezing your length while you continued to push inside until you’re buried to the hilt. His hand squeezed around yours tightly as he tried to take in your words earlier and ride out any form of sensation that racked through his body. He could already feel the numbing pleasure rake in his system as the overwhelming sensation continued to eat away at his sensibilities.
You stilled yourself as you watched every expression Alhaitham’s pretty face contorted into. You only swept away his fringe away from his forehead that’s already dotted with beads of sweat and continued to observe him. You’ve never been this considerate when it comes to fucking someone, but given the fact that Alhaitham was just far too adorable, you made a conscious effort to be more gentle in his first time.
It didn’t take long before Alhaitham slowly rolled his hips, in terrible need for some more friction, “Y-You can move…” he stammered, still with his hand clutching onto yours so tightly.
You grinned a little before drawing your hips back and giving a testing thrust, pushing out a choked moan from the scribe, to which you greedily indulged in. Leaning in, you only gave a quick kiss on the shell of his ear before whispering;
“Don’t fall in love now.”
Alhaitham merely scoffed at your little taunt.
As if he would.
Miscalculations are rare in Alhaitham’s lifetime. Often times he’s mapped out every single action to consider to ensure a smooth sailing plan that he has to execute. Failure was a rare occurrence in the scribe— sorry, the Acting Grand Sage’s roster. He has yet to achieve a failure so spectacular that it puts his roommate to shame.
However, the way his eyes lingered on your form while you went about your day while you extended your stay in Sumeru was quick to tell him that the very idea of a miscalculation may not be so far-fetched in the first place.
And he absolutely loathed it.
It had been days since his… little research that you aided him in. Days since he felt the wonderful bliss of the mind numbing pleasure that only left his mind completely broken and incoherent. Days since he could feel the way your hands roamed around with such preciseness that every touch you left on him left him completely breathless. It had been days.
So then why? Why does he feel the same exhilaration whenever you were in the vicinity?
Why could he not push the thoughts of that night in the back of his mind? It was a skill he mastered that procured his unbothered persona. But the memories persisted like a parasite, latching onto his poor mind as it replayed the same night over and over again;
“H-Hah~! T-Too much already—!” Poor Alhaitham slurred, words barely able to convey while he held onto your hand for dear life, his eyes rolling at the back of his head while you pounded into him without an ounce of mercy. The bed creaked so violently under your movements, and his body shook in overstimulation.
“Just a little more, baby boy, one more, yeah?” You licked your lips hungrily, a predatory gaze flashing through your eyes as you devoured your prey.
Alhaitham winced as he slowly arched his back, suddenly feeling restless in his usual seat outside of Puspa café. Of all places, why couldn’t you have decided to chat with the nearby vendors. Where he can hear you and bury his mind into a delusion of bliss after hearing those sinful sounds from you when you bedded him that night. It was torture.
It was like a siren’s call, beckoning for him to give into his temptation. Except it was an excruciating thing to experience, drowning in that voice of yours that he could no longer hear normally.
“Oh! Isn’t that Alhaitham there?” He had to hide another grimace as the familiar shrill voice of your traveling companion echoed.
“So it is, let’s go say hi,” you smiled while you walked over to him, inviting yourself in without an ounce of embarrassment, like you didn’t make a mess out of him that particular night. “Been awhile.”
He could only stiffly nod before turning back to his book, “Mhm.”
“Yeesh! You’re just as cold as always! Hmph! Well, whatever. Paimon is going to get some food for herself.”
And just like that, there was silence in both of your company.
“Hey, you look really tense,” you frowned in concern and Alhaitham only continued to read into his book with an absent concentration that only served him to read the first lines of the paragraph over and over again. “I didn’t scare you now, did I?”
Alhaitham shuddered as the feeling of your touch slowly took over when your hands grazed by his shoulder in an attempt to console him. And the hauntingly addicting touches of yours continued to resurface in his mind.
A wanton squeal escapes Alhaitham as your fingers dug deep into the skin of his waist. He had little to no escape with the way you held him, hands completely sinking into his supple flesh to keep him in place. There was a rush of excitement that flooded Alhaitham’s system when you took hold of him in such a manner — possessive and almost desperate.
His already spent dick twitched at the notion, the very idea of you being all over him and wanting no one else but him. He wanted you to feel the same feeling that slowly poisoned his thoughts — that you would enjoy him just as much as he was enjoying you being so deep inside him.
He panted, short huffs leaving his wet lips that you vigorously licked, kissed, and bit until the both of you could taste his blood. He was a mess, from the marks on his collar down to the way even your fingertips made their bruising mark when you manhandled him.
Suddenly those touches burned through his skin, like you left them there just seconds ago. He was slowly feeling feverish. He could still remember which parts of him you touched, the way the uncomfortable feeling of your grip pressing against his soft skin was enough to get him on a state of frenzy.
You were far too intoxicating.
And without even an ounce of warning, he was suddenly met with your skeptic expression, clear as a day as you drew yourself nearer to his side, with your face a mere inch away from his. He could feel your even breathing, and could see those heavenly eyes of yours that peered through your thick lashes as you continued to put him on the spot with your own form of scrutiny.
“Tell me the truth, I didn’t scare you away from what happened nights ago, did I?”
He resisted the urge to swallow thickly — you may not be as smart as he is, but you were perceptive, already proven by the mere fact that you were quick to guess that his strange actions towards you did indeed stem from that amorous engagement you and him explored. Unable to focus on your minuscule concern, his gaze drifted down to your lips that formed into a frown, with your bottom lip jutting out a little in a very subtle pout.
Those lips. That mouth that often spoke of every proclamation and promise to aid whoever was in need of help, no matter how annoyingly minuscule the requests are.
His ears burned under his noise-cancelling headphones, finding himself completely unable to shut out the loud thrumming of his heart against his chest.
Who would’ve thought that mouth of yours were just as capable of delving into something incredibly lewd — that mouth that spoke valor suddenly speaking in the most flustering taunts that drove him over the edge.
Sobs spilled out from Alhaitham’s quivering lips, tears already flooding his ducts while you rutted into him like a dog in heat. The desperation in your thrusts were pushing up against his nearing release as your cock continued to abuse his prostate.
The overwhelming pleasure didn’t help as you busied yourself on his chest. You couldn’t leave it alone, your mouth already latching onto one of his sensitive and perky buds. Your tongue swirled against his swollen nipple and tore out another loud moan from the scribe. He was helpless against your ministrations. He could feel his stomach stir despite the fact that he was so sure he couldn’t cum anymore.
His hand shakily raked through the back of your head, biting his lip to keep himself composed.
You swiped your tongue against his nipple, looking up at him with a devious smirk, “Are you sure nothing’s coming out of these?”
“‘M… not a woman—” he protests in a weak voice, raspy from all the screams you drew out of him from coaxing orgasm after orgasm from him. “S-Stop saying that…”
“Getting embarrassed again?” You grinned, drawing your hips before snapping back into him, making him whine from the raw pleasure. “Aren’t you just the cutest~”
He isn’t. He’s far from such a description. Alhaitham knows that well. He was the intimidating figure of Akademiya, with his unbothered stoicism that could leave anyone scampering without the intention of screwing him over in the first place. But he hates how you’ve rendered him completely useless with just your words and subtle touches that quickly disarmed his guard that he put up several times already.
He loathes the mere fact that he couldn’t get you out of his head. Surely not all people that go through one night stands invoke such feelings of warm fondness towards someone they aren’t meant to be attached to. He’s not supposed to feel flustered just at the mere sight of you. He’s not supposed to feel vulnerable with your smiles. And he’s not supposed to feel the tempting submission with every touch you left on his body.
Alhaitham was quick to push your face away before running a hand through his own with a begrudging sigh, “…I am currently undergoing through a crisis. Please let me acquire some space for a good few minutes.”
He hates your dichotomy — from your ridiculously odious attitude when you fucked him, to your sudden gentleness when you were done and even the subsequent days after that.
You nodded in understanding (something he’d grown to fondly hate as well) with a patient smile, “Of course. How ‘bout I go get us some baklava? My treat.”
Your offer was oddly reminiscent of your aftercare too.
“Hope you can forgive the roughness. It’s your first time too,” he paid no heed to your apology. In fact, you’ve nothing to apologize for when you’ve granted him such a good fuck for his first time. He only relished in the feeling of your ghostly kisses against the bruises you made on him. “I’ll go get you some water. Need anything else?”
He was already dozing off by then.
He waved you off, more than eager to get you out of the way as the realizations slowly linked themselves in his constantly running mind.
Alhaitham dragged a hand over his face, repressing the urge to groan when he remembered your little taunt before this all happened.
“Don’t fall in love now.”
And damn it did he fall hard.
1K notes · View notes
lovelybrooke · 3 months
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This is mostly how I interpret Vox’s obsession starting but I picture the reader somehow alone, with a device, usually Alastor wouldn’t allow them near one but someone at the hotel might have lent them one while Alastor left the building. Regardless the reader is alone with a device and Vox, for the first time, is able to see how they act when they’re alone, maybe doodling or writing on a book, listening to music, playing an instrument, whatever. And I imagine that the reader looks so relaxed alone, so calm and peaceful, unlike when they’re with the others, maybe they’re even genuinely smiling. Point is, vox hasn’t seen them like this before, and he’s convinced no one else has gotten to see the reader like this, makes him feel superior or special. He notes how anxious and/or tense they are with the others, he feels like maybe the hotel isn’t good enough for the reader, he’s sure if they were with him and the other Vees they’d be much more relaxed.
But again this is how I picture it. I’d like to know what you think :)
I really, really like this idea, it's so cute!!!
Maybe you're given a phone by Charlie, who wants to be able to stay in contact with you even while she's out on hotel related business or when you're out with Alastor.
Alastors not really a fan of it, for many reasons. He's aware that Vox is keeping an eye on you, and now this phone is just going to make that easier for him. He knows he can't just take the phone from you, but he will forbid you from using it whenever he's around.
For once, Vox is grateful for Hell's Princess, because now he's able to keep an eye on you whenever the Radio Demon isn't around, and surprisingly you're just...normal.
He thought you would be more, but you're just a kid. Whenever you're alone, you spend a lot of your time reading, drawing, and occasionally sleeping though you didn't sleep as much as a kid probably should. You were kinda boring honestly, but there was something charming about that.
You were happy, smiling as you read something in your book or when you were having a good dream. And you smile, this one was real. It wasn't like the one you wore around Alastor, or even the others from the hotel. It made the corner of your eyes crinkle and even made some dimples show.
And it made Vox feel good, it made him feel superior, because even if those smiles are directed at him, he knows you don't act this way around anyone else. Only he gets to see you like this, calm, content, yourself. And slowly, his obsession with Alastor slowly creates an obsession for you. He doesn't really care about keeping on Alastor anymore. Well he does, it's just that he cares about watching you much more.
He doesn't like how you're forced to spend time in that shit-hole hotel, forbidden from leaving out of fear for your safety. It's not fair, to you or to him. He knows those demons have more than enough power to keep you safe, they just don't want to share you with the world. If you were with him, you would have...some freedom, at least more than you have now. But you'd have more to do than just sit around all day. You'd be safe and happy, and he'd get to see the real you more often.
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gffa · 11 months
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You would think, after a month of voracious reading of BATFAMILY fic, that I would at least begin to slow down, because I still primarily read I’m Having Dick Grayson Feelings And I’m Making That Everyone Else’s Problem, but I have also discovered that I have Jason feelings, I have Tim feelings, and I have Damian feelings. Which of course I knew before, but what I really learned is that other people have made this my problem now, too. And by that I mean that there’s amazing fic on all of the Bat babies and I am not immune. So, you may still have to scroll a bit, but if there’s an idiot badass with black hair and blue eyes, you’ll hopefully find something here to cry about with me, because what are any of us even in this fandom for, if not for the Feelings Hell About Vigilantes With Emotional Problems? BATFAM FIC RECS - BABY DICK IS THE CUTEST FERAL ROBIN I’M NOT HEARING ANY ARGUMENTS: ✦ it is with my whole life by dustorange, dick & bruce, 2.2k      Nine-year-old Dick’s been kidnapped. Bruce tries not to fall apart. ✦ World’s Finest: Lake Weekend by WingFeathers, dick & bruce & clark (& clark/bruce), 10.3k      Bruce and Dick invite Clark to the lakehouse for a long weekend around Rosh Hashanah, but Dick has trouble sleeping outside the Manor, and Bruce isn’t as available as he should be. And all of this brings up a question: what exactly are the three of them, a bat-vigilante and his ward and his superhero boyfriend? Could they be something like a family? (And how will they eat with Alfred not taking care of them?) ✦ Revision by takadainmate, dick & bruce, 3.8k      New to Bruce Wayne, new to being Robin, new to being alone, Dick didn’t believe there would ever be anyone there for him again. ✦ count the stars by emavee, dick & bruce, 3.7k      He doesn’t know what to do. It’s not like he can stop the storm. If he could wave a magic wand and make the sky clear—or even if he could call up someone from his large contact list full of metas who could control the weather—he would. He would honestly disrupt Gotham’s weather patterns if it meant Dick would stop crying. Or: Dick doesn’t like thunderstorms, so Bruce takes him somewhere where they can’t touch him. ✦ cautionary tale by drakefeathers, dick & bruce & young justice, 11.4k      Q: “Why did Queen Bee want Robin taken in alive in Bereft?” A: “Think of Speedy as a cautionary tale.” ✦ batman & robin by chickenmuffinsoup55555, dick & bruce, 4.8k      The Batman has a shadow. A shadow clad in reds and greens with a smile like sunshine. Bruce is adjusting. ✦ five times someone told Bruce he was a good dad… by emavee, dick & bruce & clark & selina & cast, 10.3k      …and one time it mattered ✦ Phobias by RascalJoy (DarkQuill), dick & bruce & alfred, 18.4k wip      It was stupid. It was irrational. Dick knew that. There was no good reason for him to be afraid; he had been doing this for most of his young life. And yet… Five times Dick fell, and the one time Robin didn’t. ✦ I Hate Dick by JeanjacketCarf, dick & bruce & talia, 3.7k      “Robin wrapped his legs around the Bats’ neck and rested his head on top of the cowl. Then he stuck his tongue out at Talia. Talia felt her face growing hot with anger. She tried to restrain it. The Bat loved this child for some unholy reason.” ✦ shades of blue by thatsveryambitiousofyou, dick & bruce, 2.4k      Dick Grayson has blue eyes. Or the one where Bruce tries harder BATFAM FIC RECS - ADULT BATSON AND BATDAD ARE MY KRYPTONITE, I FOLD LIKE WET CARDBOARD FOR THEM: ✦ Withdrawal by Sohotthateveryonedied, dick & bruce & cast, 1.8k      It’s been six hours since he got dosed. The green ring around his eyes has been faded since dawn. It won’t be long before the withdrawal hits him in full force. ✦ The Post-Mission Ponderings of Brucerman and NightBunny by Ptelea, dick & bruce, 4.8k      This is just sheer (metaphorical) fluff to follow up on the (somewhat more literal) fluff of Wayne Family Adventures, season 2, episode 54, S'tel ees a cigam wohs! Heavy on the puns, even heavier on Bruce being struck by amazement at how much he loves his oldest son. ✦ gotta make a stand (but I am just a man) by CaptainOzone, dick & bruce & alfred, 2.3k      Bruce makes it back to the Cave, injured and exhausted, but remarkably alive. He expects Alfred to meet him. He meets someone else. Or: a third credit scene in which Nightwing makes an appearance. ✦ The Hand in My Hand by audreycritter, dick & bruce, 4.4k      Dick offers himself in exchange for some hostages and it does not go as planned. ✦ Yesterday by I_Have_To_Get_Off_This_Planet, dick & bruce, 1.5k      Dick was pretty sure this was what dying felt like. He was curled up, almost in fetal position, on his bed in the Manor. He was there for the holidays, and he had been looking forward to their entire family being together for once. Even Jason had agreed to come. And now he was gonna die before Christmas even arrived. ✦ I Bet On Losing Dogs by Anonymous, dick & bruce, 2.5k      (Or; Bruce’s relationship with his oldest and how it slowly starts to mend, with only a little push from his friends.) ✦ You can pick your battles but you can’t pick your poison by woodenwashbucket, dick & bruce, 1.8k      “Hey, am I bleeding a lot somewhere?” Nightwing asked. Batman gave him an unimpressed look, but Nightwing shook his head. “Seriously. I feel off.” Nightwing wobbled. Batman grabbed him by the shoulders before they could find out if he would have fallen, and Nightwing met his eyes with undisguised alarm. “Ok, maybe worse than off,” he said. BATFAM FIC RECS - EVERYBODY LOVES DICK: ✦ what’s past is prologue by Icestorm238, dick & bruce & jason & damian, time travel, 18.1k      Dick Grayson, bestowed with the memories of an alternate life, decides that things are going to go better this time. Priority number one: preventing Jason’s death. ✦ exactly how this grace thing works by irnan, dick & bruce & barbara & jason & cast, de-aged!dick, 22.7k      Dick gets de-aged. You’d think this would be a routine thing. ✦ sick day by daringyounggrayson, dick & roy & titans, 1.2k      Dick tries to power through a cold and lead a training session with the Teen Titans. It doesn’t exactly work out. ✦ The Gravity of Tempered Grace by CamsthiSky, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & selina, 10k      He’s sick, he finally catches on, and at that moment, a cough builds up in his chest, and he barely has enough energy to sit up enough to let his lungs work properly. A coughing fit later, and Dick’s breaths are making a horrible wheezing sound that makes him sound like one of Titus’ chew toys. That’s bad. He’s pretty sure that’s bad. ✦ you swallowing matches by torielle, roy/dick & bruce, NSFW, 8.2k      A month after being fired as Robin, Dick is forced to attend a Wayne gala, and is grateful for a particular friendly face. ✦ The Shape Of You (Was Jagged And Weak) by WinterSky101, dick & bruce & slade & jason & tim & damian & batfam, 40.6k      Six months ago, Nightwing died. They never found the body. Last week, Deathstroke arrived in Gotham. He brought a partner with him. ✦ You say you wanna stay by my side (Darling, your head’s not right) by wlwintersoldier, roy/dick & lian & donna, 2.5k      Dick is stupid and reckless on a mission, whats new, and Roy deals with the fallout ✦ Laundry Mishaps by JeanjacketCarf, dick/babs & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph & duke, 3.5k      Dick’s siblings often show up unannounced and take his stuff without asking. It’s how they show their love. Or Dick’s washing machine is commandeered for Steph’s laundry, his clothes disappear, he goes to girl’s night, has brunch, gets a little shot, and picks his baby brother up from school in about a week and a half while the secret group chat has a grand old time. BATFAM FIC RECS - JASON TODD IS AN ASSHOLE CAT, I’M GONNA THROW HIM AT DICK BECAUSE IT’S FUNNY (AND MAYBE SOME OF HIS OTHER SIBLINGS TOO): ✦ Two Dead Birds by InsaneTrollLogic, jason & dick & tim, time travel, 29k      There’s some lunatic in a red helmet running through Jason’s territory. He wants to think it’s a copycat. He’s wrong. BATFAM FIC RECS - DICK AND DAMIAN WERE THE BEST BATMAN & ROBIN, I’M NOT HEARING ARGUMENTS ABOUT THAT EITHER: ✦ Won’t You Stay A While? by fishfingersandjellybabies, dick & damian & cast, 2.8k      Ric did not expect to find a child sitting on the hood of his cab. Damian did expect to get his brother back. ✦ birdgrief by windupclock, dick & bruce & damian, 1.5k      How could you? Dick doesn’t say. Get out of my sight, Dick doesn’t say. What the hell is wrong with you? Dick doesn’t say. Tim storms out. Dick is left to deal with Damian. ✦ we’re like long lost brothers who found each other (and love each other like family) by drakefeathers, dick & damian, 9.3k      ongoing collection of scenes set when Dick is Batman and Damian is his Robin, ranging from cute to sad (hopefully not too sad). not chronological. ✦ I’ll Carry You by BrickSheep, dick & damian & bruce & tim, 2.1k      Dick Grayson will take every opportunity he can just to carry Damian in his arms. ✦ in my own imperfect way by notquiteaghost, dick & damian & bruce, 1.8k      Dick jokes, a lot, about being the only reason Bruce still remembers how to talk to people. About breaking him in for everyone else. He was Robin first, and he was Robin longest, and he’s why Bruce took in the others, he’s why Bruce isn’t dead in a ditch somewhere. And the jokes are funny! He’s never trying to be passive aggressive, or guilt trip, or whatever else. He and Bruce have spent enough time, now, pointedly not actually looking at each other, pulling words out in painful fits and starts. Dick knows where they stand. They’re good. But. ✦ (Un)Fortunate Son by Syl, dick & damian & bruce & cast, 26.1k wip      Bruce reaches a decision about Damian. Dick disagrees and decides to do something about it. BATFAM FIC RECS - BATKIDS ALL HAVE MANY SIBLINGS AND THEY’RE ALL PETTY ASSHOLES AND/OR WONDERFUL BABIES AND I LOVE THEM WITH MY WHOLE BEING: ✦ Overcoming Our Antecedents by Batbirdies, jason & bruce & dick, 31.4k      Bruce swallows, closing his eyes for a brief moment before he takes another, steadying breath and presses both hands to his face. He just needs a moment. Needs to remember where he is, what year it is, that Jason is not actually fifteen, he only looks like he is. This is temporary. This is just a temporary problem that needs to be contained until they can change Jason back. This is not a repeat of events already passed. This is not a second chance. ✦ what’s past is prologue by Icestorm238, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & barbara & steph & cast, time travel, 84.9k      Dick Grayson, bestowed with the memories of an alternate life, decides that things are going to go better this time. Things take a few unintended turns, and the consequences of his actions ripple through his family. ✦ And the Scene Slips Away (To the Evenness I Fake) by Kirazalea, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & duke & alfred & cast, rape aftermath/read the tags, 37k      One mistake is all it took to force Jason back into the wonderful world of the Wayne family. Now publicly and legally alive once more, he’s forced to spend the next two weeks of his life stuck in the Manor with the whole family. This leads to several strengthened relationships and the realization that maybe he’s missed a few things over the years. Things that he’s now determined to get to the bottom of. ✦ now the clock is melting (so’s my mouth and so’s my mind) by SilverSkiesAtMidnight, tim & bruce & dick & cast, 4.1k      The League’s base is not built to welcome strangers. Bruce is not a stranger. ✦ what catches and who holds by victoria_p (musesfool), dick & cass, 3k      Dick never wanted to be Batman. Cass always did. ✦ Bet on it by Lysical, jason & damian & jon, 2.4k      Even Damian could admit that his older siblings occasionally had their uses. “I need your assistance,” Damian said, voice low and tense. “No,” Jason replied, and hung up. ✦ a soft place to land by unchosenone, dick & tim, 3k      Tim rubs the back of his head, trying to affect a joking tone. “I knew I should’ve just gone for the new escrima sticks.” Dick is ready to be a good big brother to his grieving little bro. Tim flips the script. ✦ Consanguineous Ministrations by Briarwitched, bruce & kon-el & clark & dick, 23.9k      “Who gave you a baby?” Dick demanded, the instant Bruce opened the front door, eyes drawn immediately to the sobbing infant on Bruce’s hip that he gently bounced to no avail. At the same time, Bruce muttered, “I told you, it’s fine, you didn’t have to come.” Alternatively titled, “Let’s give Batfleck alien baby problems”. ✦ The League of Extraordinary Bowling Bats by chibi_nightowl, dick & jason & tim & damian & bruce & alfred & cassandra & stephanie, 5k      “What did Dickiebird do? Steal all your other shirts?” The shirt is bright green with wide yellow stripes pretending to be a pin stripe running vertically across it. On the back, in bright red letters, “Timmy” is spelled out. “You’re next,” he spits out, shooting Jason the worst glare he could muster. “He’s got one for you too.” ✦ a cheese raspberry flavored void (except not really) by dottie_dc (dottie_wan_kenobi), Marzue, SilverSkiesAtMidnight, Squintyfist (ErzasCake), dick & jason & tim & damian & bruce & alfred & cast, 3k      “Jason.” Dick walks up to the desk, suspiciously peering around. Jason jerks and attempts to get in his way, but Dick is quick and fully willing to vault over his brother. Only, Jason immediately latches onto him, and the momentum sends them stumbling back, knocking into the desk. It’s a good thing Jason stopped him, for right behind the desk, where Dick would’ve landed, is a swirling void. ✦ The Talk by InsaneTrollLogic, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian, 2k      Bruce never gave Dick the Talk. Dick was grateful for that right up until the time Damian sat through his first health class and started asking questions. ✦ Brothers in War by IaMcHrIsSi, jason & dick & cast, 3.2k      Jason, Cass and Damian ran from the League. In Bludhaven, they run into Dick. Literally. Dick just wanted to get breakfast. ✦ Baby I’m Bi Bi Bi by Sohotthateveryonedied, dick & steph, 1.5k      Dick catches her staring. “Oh, yeah. Forgot I had that. I bought it for when Wally, Donna and I were planning to go to Gotham Pride last year but a Joker thing came up and I didn’t get to go. You can just toss it. I have a ton of other bi merch and I only bought that one because Donna pressured me into it, anyway.” Steph looks down at the t-shirt and bites her lip. “Actually…I think I’ll keep it, if you don’t mind.” ✦ two attempted robberies too many by tsuchann, dick & bruce & jason, 2.2k      Dick could have knocked out the man before he had the chance to blink let alone pull the trigger, but he wasn’t dumb, and he worried his reaction would have caused the other robbers to shoot, because in the bank, at the middle of it all, with a gun pressed to his head, was Dick’s little brother. ✦ That the Ripest Might Fall by Ellegrine, TheFightingBull, dick & jason & tim & damian & bruce, reverse robins, 2.4k      Jason stared at the fallen chandelier. The priceless, fallen chandelier. They were dead. They were so, so dead! ✦ the butler’s neighbor by deargalileo, tim & alfred & bruce, 16.6k      it starts with a baseball, thrown onto the wayne’s property. it’s alfred’s job to deal with such happenings, of course. but over tea and galas, it turns into so much more. after all, why should bruce be the only one allowed to adopt any child that he finds? ✦ the straw drawer by deargalileo, dick & bruce & jason & tim & alfred, 7.4k      sometimes, love is stored in the straws. a story about family, traditions, and gifts, through the medium of crazy straws. (a companion piece to the butler’s neighbor, so i would suggest reading that first) ✦ you gotta push all the doubt to the side of your mouth by danishsweethearts, dick & stephanie & cast, 1.7k      Steph practices mindfulness. BATFAM FIC RECS - DICK/BABS FOREVER AND YOU CAN SHUT IT IF YOU DISAGREE, THEY’RE ADORABLE TOGETHER: ✦ Crime and… by Ladymercury_10, dick/babs, 1.7k      “Are you punishing me with glitter? That’s not a very good punishment, Babs.” ✦ the dickbabs baby au. by thychesters, dick/babs & batfam, 49.1k wip      Telling Dick she’s pregnant is much more stressful than she was hoping it would be. Them telling the rest of their families and friends? Yeah, easier said than done. BATFAM FIC RECS - I WILL DIE ON THE HILL THAT TIM DRAKE’S TRUE LOVE INTEREST IS CONNER KENT AND NOBODY CAN STOP ME, NOT EVEN GOD: ✦ buy back the secrets by sundiscus, tim/kon & bruce & clark & jason & cast, 48.1k wip      He takes a long, slow breath. Ignores the glares from the other students. “Superboy,” he murmurs. “It’s me. If you’re listening, I could use some help.” Or: 5 times Superboy saves Tim Drake, and one time Tim Drake saves Superboy. ✦ Grevious Misuse of TTK (or, Alternate Uses for TTK) by Cfae8, tim/kon, NSFW, 1.4k      Tim wakes up to someone touching him. But Kon’s hands haven’t moved. ✦ The Lost Art of Minding Your Goddamn Business by JpegDotJpeg, tim/kon & jason, 2k      Tim just sputtered, looking thoroughly scandalized for someone standing in the middle of the irrefutable evidence of his own fornication. If the furniture looked this bad, Jason couldn’t imagine that little Timmy had escaped Superboy’s super cock completely unscathed. “It’s not that bad,” Tim said, gesturing to the carnage, but he didn’t even sound convinced of his own words. “It looks like the fucking honeymoon scene from Twilight in here.” ✦ Practice Makes Perfect by rotasha, tim/kon & jason, NSFW, 18.3k      Kon is trying to seduce someone – he won’t tell Tim who – and he enlists Tim’s help to try to hone his flirtation skills. This surely won’t end in disaster for Tim, who’s had a thing for Kon practically since they met. BATFAM FIC RECS - TAKE THE ANGST DIAL, TURN IT UP TO ELEVEN, AND BREAK THE KNOB OFF, THAT’S WHAT I’M HERE FOR: ✦ Wait, What? by PandasandDucks13, dick & bruce & titans, 2.4k      Dick Grayson finds something interesting while applying for college. On a side note: He should really evaluate how many felonies he commits on a regular basis ✦ Dawn Breaks Through the Window by sElkieNight60, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian, depression/read the tags, 14.7k      Without realizing it, Dick has fallen into a listless apathy, but when an incident cuts a little too close, Bruce and his brothers are there to remind him just how loved he is. ✦ Wisdom Always Chooses These Black Eyes and These Bruises by audreycritter, dick & bruce, 3.2k      After a severe, life-changing injury, Dick and Bruce have an epic fight and then fall back together. Sometimes, family hurts you the most, but that doesn’t stop how much you need them. ✦ your continental divides by isawet, reisling, dick & bruce & damian & barbara & cassandra & stephanie & donna & roy & wally & artemis & cast, rape aftermath/read the tags, 26.7k      When running doesn’t work and working doesn’t work, home is the place you go where they have to take you in. Dick’s home has never been Gotham; it’s always been the people.
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