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#no beta we die like men today
mandiemegatron · 4 months
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ʟᴀᴡ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴢɪɴɢ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ʜɪꜱ ᴇɴᴅ ɢᴀᴍᴇ. ɢᴇɴᴅᴇʀ ɴᴇᴜᴛʀᴀʟ ᴘʀᴏɴᴏᴜɴꜱ ; ꜱᴜɪᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀʟʟ ᴀɢᴇꜱ, ᴍᴅɴɪ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʟᴀʙᴇʟᴇᴅ 18+.
There's a subtle difference in the way you looked at Law.
He barely notices it at first; it's like a breeze that blows through his entire body, chilling and warming him at the same time. It's the way your eyelids twitch slightly when he says something funny, a small grin ticking up your lips at the side, and the movement fuels Laws ego. It's the warmth of your palm that radiates through his sweater when you pat him as you walk by, throwing him a small smile with a nod.
It barely registers, the gooey feeling that floods his senses when you bring him tea and a snack every single time, without fail. It's the sinking feeling that settles in his stomach when he sees Shachi pull you close, whispering something in your ear that causes you to cackle. It's the way your hands hold his heart, gently stitching up the broken pieces, without even knowing.
It's the way his eyes widen and his brain stops when he sees you, standing on the deck of the Polar Tang, watching the sun set with a content expression. He'd seen you like this a thousand times, day after day, whenever they were above the seas, but it was like someone dumped a bucket of ice water over his head, freezing him to his spot. You slowly turned and looked at him over your shoulder, your own eyes slightly wide and confused until you felt it.
It was like a tug at your heart, pulling the two of you together until your hands met, closing the space between your bodies as your eyes fell shut.
It was a subtle difference, the way you looked at him, and the way he looked at you.
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thefanciestborrower · 9 months
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Nightmare Cure
A short and sweet little drabble featuring my favorite lego duo Jay and Cole engaging in some vorish shenanigans
Written for vore day 2023 :]
Contains soft, safe vore and some goofy banter
     Jay groaned, turning to flop on his back and stare at the slats supporting the bunk above his for what felt like the hundredth time. He’d thought sleeping would have gotten easier now that it had been so long since everything had happened, and truthfully, he supposed being able to close his eyes for any length of time without being assaulted by nightmares was technically an improvement, but he just couldn’t seem to fall properly asleep no matter what he did. Every time he started to finally reach that deep, restful part of sleep the nightmares would start. He hadn’t had a good night’s rest in... gosh...weeks? Months maybe? Visions of restless nights spent in a splintering box, endless games played just to watch him suffer, Nya lying still as death in his arms, a vicious hook digging into... Jay winced, rubbing his eye to rid himself of the phantom pain and bloody memory. If it could even be called a memory at this point since, technically speaking, none of that had ever happened in the first place. 
     He huffed, grabbing his pillow and smothering his face with it. Maybe if he passed out that would count as sleeping and he’d finally get some rest. After about five minutes of trying and failing to suffocate himself with his pillow Jay threw it aside and went back to staring at the slats above him, listening to the quiet snores of his brothers. It wasn’t fair! Sure he knew they had no memory of the event so he couldn’t fault them for sleeping so soundly, but it still felt like a slight. Heck, as far as he knew even Nya was having an easier time than he was, and she remembered everything! If only he could just close his eyes for more than two seconds and still feel safe! He just wanted to rest without feeling like Nadakan would reappear to snatch him away. But the Bounty wasn’t secure anymore. Nowhere was. Nowhere, except… Well it couldn’t hurt to ask right? Steeling himself against the cold he slipped out of bed and padded over to Cole’s bed, careful not to wake the others. Gosh, the last thing he wanted was to be caught asking for this.
     Jay hesitated for a moment, shuffling from foot to foot on the cold wooden floor as he stared at the form of his sleeping friend. He knew Cole wouldn’t mind, he never did, but the request still felt selfish and awkward in his mind. Like he was taking advantage of his friend or something. It was a stupid thought, and he shook his head to clear it. He did this all the time during the day so it should be no different at night right? Right. Steeling himself, Jay reached out to shake the earth ninja awake.
     “Cole.” Jay hissed, prodding his friend in the shoulder. Nothing. Cole barely shifted in his sleep, much to Jay’s irritation. “Cole!” He tried again, jabbing a little harder this time. “Come on boulder brain, wake up.”
     Cole always had been the soundest sleeper of all his brothers, so Jay was unsurprised that his efforts had yet to do anything other than make Cole groan in his sleep, but it was still a little frustrating. Well, if Cole wouldn’t wake up, he could at least opt for his plan B. Sure sleeping next to Cole wouldn’t be as nice as sleeping in him, but it would still be much better than his own bed and he had done it before anyways. Jay hated to admit all that five in the morning Wu loves subjecting them all to was really paying off as he crept under Cole’s blanket, silent and undetected. None of their beds were all that big, just barely enough to fit one person really, but Jay was quite a bit smaller than the average person. A fact which normally aggravated him, but always seemed to come in handy for midnight escapades like this one. It only took a minute for him to get settled against Cole’s chest, finally feeling safe. He sighed as he snuggled down and briefly glanced up at his friend’s face, only to go stiff. Cole’s eyes were open and staring down at him in thinly veiled amusement. Jay went crimson. 
     “Oh, so now you wake up.” He huffed, scooting away from Cole in the limited space he had on the small bed and shooting him an offended glare. He wasn’t actually mad, just embarrassed he’d been caught. Embarrassment that was only made worse as Cole proceeded to laugh at him. Laugh! Well fine then, he didn’t want Cole’s help anyways! Jay rolled over and sat up, resigned to spending another restless night in his own fighting off nightmares, when Cole stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.  
     “Jay wait,” Cole said, his voice soft, if tinged with amusement. “You don’t have to leave; you know I don’t mind sharing.”
     Jay turned to glare at Cole, though the sharp expression softened once he saw the sincerity in his friend’s eyes. Still, he made no move to lay back down. “No no it’s fine I just uh…got a little cold is all but I’m all good now! See? Just gonna head back to my own bed now don’t mind me.” Despite the confident swagger Jay was always carful to layer into his voice his words still shook and stuck in his throat, and he knew Cole would be able to tell so it was best to leave before-
     Cole’s hand grabbed his where it still rested on the bed and Jay froze. “If you’re really that cold, you’re more than welcome to stay zaptrap.”
     Jay blinked. Cole knew he was lying, the way he annunciated ‘cold’ made that clear as day, and yet, he had made no effort to pry into his reasons for doing so. Usually Cole was the first one to poke holes in his lies so the fact that he was going along with things just this once felt…nice. He didn’t want to talk, and Cole knew that, so he’d tried to lighten the mood with a playful insult, and it worked. Jay cracked a characteristically crooked smile and rolled his eyes, trying so hard to appear nonchalant when he was really very grateful.
     “Fine fine I’ll stay, but only if I get to pick where I sleep.”  Jay quipped back. “I’m feeling a little like getting my own private room tonight.” He jabbed softly at Cole’s stomach where his shirt had ridden up in the night and had the great pleasure of seeing his friend’s face turn pink, though his undoubtably looked the same if the burning in his ears was any indication. 
     “Well someone’s feeling demanding.” Cole snorted, sitting up and stretching with a yawn—not that Jay noticed the yawn since he was very pointedly looking anywhere but Cole’s mouth—before reaching around the lightning ninja to grab a single leaf from the bonsai situated neatly on his nightstand. Jay felt a shiver of anticipation run down his spine. He took the leaf from Cole without hesitation and crunched it between his teeth, shuddering at the bitter and overly herbal taste. Sure they’d usually brew the leaves into a proper tea before doing anything like this, but it would still work regardless, and Jay didn’t have the patience to brew a cup of tea right now anyways. The effect was instant. One second the bed was feeling rather cramped with the two ninjas on it, and the next, it looked as though Jay had disappeared. 
     Of course, he hadn’t really disappeared, and Jay couldn’t hold back a little yelp as Cole reached down to pick him up off the mattress, holding him in hands nearly as large as he was. With as often as they used this tea, you’d really think he’d be used to being picked up by now, but the feeling of vertigo never really went away. Still, he was anything but scared as Cole lifted him to his face.
     “Well look at that! And here I was thinking you couldn’t get any shorter.” Cole laughed, poking Jay in the chest with a finger that was promptly swatted away. 
     “Oh ha ha, you’re a real comedian bolder brain.” Jay shot back without missing a beat. “How long did it take you to come up with that one, a whole five seconds?”
     “Six actually!”
     Jay sighed, rolling his eyes as Cole grinned at him. Why he’d chosen such an annoying best friend was beyond him, but then again you don’t really choose best friends do you. They kinda just show up and you end up stuck with them whether you like it or not. For what it was worth, Jay really was rather fond of Cole. He’d rather die than admit that of course, but it was true. 
     Realizing Cole hadn’t moved in a few seconds and was just sort of staring at him, Jay decided to take matters into his own hands. He leaned forwards, planting his hands on Cole’s bottom lip. “Alright are you just gonna keep looking or am I actually going to get the room I requested.” The night air wasn’t cold, but it was chilly and in the wake of his unsettling dreams the air felt icy to Jay.
     Cole didn’t even bother trying to respond. The moment Jay seemed to be leaning his full weight on his lip Cole opened his mouth and nudged him forward, sending the lightning ninja tumbling in with a shriek and landing face first on his tongue. Jay spluttered indignantly. The change in temperature was incredible compared to the cold still encasing his hips and legs, and the tongue under him so soft and yielding he might have fallen asleep instantly had he not been so mad. However Jay was more than used to those things and they could stand to be ignored in favor of yelling at his best friend for shoving him face first into a puddle of spit. 
     “Gross Cole!” Jay whined, propping himself up on his elbows while his legs flailed outside. “You could have warned me first!” Yes, he had asked for this, but he still liked being difficult to get down on principle. Not that Cole ever seemed to choke around him the way Kai or Lloyd would, and Zane didn’t count because he didn’t have a gag reflex, but still. Course, he always went down easy for Nya, but that was because she was the love of his life and therefor shouldn’t count either. Cole, unrepentant for his actions, responded to Jay’s protests by promptly licking him full up the torso, dousing him instantly in buckets of saliva. Jay spluttered but knew better than to open his mouth now.
     Never one to play with his food for long, Cole quickly slurped Jay’s legs up while simultaneously starting to swallow his torso, a sensation Jay really would never get used to. Being swallowed felt a lot like being squeezed out of a toothpaste tube, if a toothpaste tube was alive and warm and full of slime that is. His legs quickly followed the rest of him down Cole’s throat, and as a series of soft swallows pushed him deeper, he couldn’t help but relax completely. Somehow Cole just felt so…safe. Safer than the bounty ever had, and somehow even safer than the rest of his brothers. Sure he loved them all with his whole heart, but Cole was like a living fortress. An immovable mountain of earth and muscle with the softest heart who could protect them all against anything. 
    After one final swallow Jay slipped down into Cole’s stomach, surprised to find it was nearly empty. When it came to Cole his stomach almost always was full of something, but as Jay stretched and made himself comfortable, he decided it was the middle of the night and dinner didn’t tend to stick around as long as he did. Flopped over in a shallow puddle of chyme Jay felt himself fading fast, his lack of sleep finally catching up with him as Cole’s stomach kneaded and churned around him. One of the walls suddenly pushed in more than the others and Jay found himself momentarily pinned as Cole felt around for him. Not that he minded, he rather enjoyed being squished. 
     “Comfy in there sparky?”
     “Yeah, thanks dirtclod.” Jay yawned, burying his face in the walls as he drifted off to sleep. “Wake me before everyone else so I can dry off alright? I don’t want Wu to yell at me for leaving puddles in the hall again.” 
     Cole laughed, his soft voice buzzing through the walls. “No promises bluebird. Just get some sleep alright? I’ll see you in the morning.”
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gaywiththesauce · 6 months
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This is It
RenGiyuu, 1.1K
TW: mcd, attempted suicide, depressing thoughts, blood
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Giyuu opened his eyes. It was midnight, a time he knew too well. He was laying on a roof somewhere he couldn’t recognize. He wasn’t alone. Kyojuro was sitting on the roof with him. He looked over at Giyuu with a soft voice, “Hey, good morning. How do you feel?”
Giyuu sat up slowly, “Where are we?”
“Not far,” Kyojuro answered, waving his hand in some direction. He looked at the lights of the small city ahead of them. “You didn’t answer my question, Giyuu.”
Giyuu hummed as a response. If he was to be honest, he felt awful. His head was groggy and he felt tired despite the nap. He shook his head, “I’m alright.”
Kyojuro looked over. His smile was brought down by the sadness in his eyes. “Okay,” he muttered, and Giyuu realized that he was caught in his lie. Neither of them elaborated further.
Kyojuro changed the subject, “I’m glad you’re awake, either way. I was worried that you might not wake up.”
Giyuu met his eyes, trying to see why Kyojuro would be worried about that. He looked over himself, missing the signs of blood or broken bones. Nothing. He was perfectly fine physically. He looked back at Kyojuro again, “What happened?”
“You don’t remember?” Kyojuro looked back at the lights, “Maybe it’s for the best. I’d rather you not remember.”
Giyuu didn’t understand why.
Kyojuro sighed and slid closer to Giyuu, “Can I ask a personal question?”
Giyuu nodded.
Kyojuro looked into the dark blue eyes of his lover, “What’s one thing that you’ve wanted the most in life?”
Giyuu gulped. There was no easy answer. There were so many things he wanted throughout his life. Acceptance, love, care, understanding, compassion, better speaking skills, friends, someone to talk to; all easy examples. Somehow, Kyojuro gave him all of those. He shrugged. “You?”
Kyojuro smiled and chuckled, “You flatter, but I appreciate it. I know it’s not true, however.” Kyojuro looked away, avoiding Giyuu’s concerned gaze. He continued, “You want him back, don’t you?”
Giyuu tried to see who he was talking about. They were the only two on the roof above the dead street. Despite the bright lights that made Tokyo look like daylight, the walkways were barren of any passerbys.
Kyojuro glanced at Giyuu’s hand, “You’re holding him now.”
Giyuu looked at his hand. It held onto Sabito’s side of the haori tightly. He let go. Kyojuro commented, “You miss him. Do you want him back?”
Giyuu nodded while he stared at his blood-stained hand, “Of course.”
Kyojuro put his soft hand against Giyuu’s cheek to guide his avoiding gaze to those burning embers of eyes.
“More than me?”
Giyuu froze. What kind of question was this? It felt like a trick. It felt unfair. Kyojuro was making him choose? Why? It was impossible. He loves Sabito and Kyojuro. They helped him through everything. Giyuu would be no one without them. He couldn’t choose, he couldn’t choose.
Kyojuro hummed. He was disappointed, but he couldn't understand it like Giyuu could. “Why do you keep it?” Kyojuro put his hand on Giyuu’s green and yellow shoulder.
“I don’t know.”
“You do,” Kyojuro squeezed, “You don’t have a grave to mourn at, do you?”
Giyuu didn’t know how Kyojuro knew that. “I don’t.”
“What if you did? Would you stop wearing it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You can mourn at my grave. Will you wear mine?”
“I don’t know.”
Kyojuro sighed again, knowing that he wouldn’t get another answer.
Giyuu held his breath, “I’ll miss you.”
Kyojuro looked at him, “Hm?”
Giyuu avoided his eyes, “If you die.”
Kyojuro glowed like an angel, “When I die, you mean. Death is guaranteed, Giyuu, and I miss you too.”
Giyuu felt tears stab at his eyes, “Will you wait for me?”
Kyojuro smiled out of the corner of Giyuu’s blurry vision, “There is no waiting, Giyuu. This is it.”
Giyuu looked up at him for the last time. Kyojuro’s smile was beautiful, open, and accepting.
It was his whole world.
It was over.
Giyuu blinked.
It wasn’t midnight anymore. He opened his eyes to somewhere different. The first thing he saw was the white that distorted his vision. He blinked away the tears and stared at the white snow on the ground. The ground was cold. Everything was so cold that it was warm.
Something touched him. He shook at the force, but couldn’t move at all.
“Oh, thank- Over here! He’s alive!” a feminine voice called out through his clogged ears. He was touched more. The snow was brushed off him and he was rolled on his back.
Shinobu’s face was in view. For once, she looked concerned. “Tomioka-san! Can you hear me?” She didn’t wait for an answer. She worked on his stomach, doing something just out of his vision.
His vision narrowed, and the darkness bit away at the vision of the white clouds. Shinobu talked about something medical. Something about blood, about cold, and about living. Was Giyuu dying? The pain in his stomach hardly compared to his blue fingertips or his toes.
Giyuu rolled onto his side at the push of burning hands, eventually falling back onto something that wasn’t cold and red. The snow beneath him was bloody. It was his blood. In the corner of his eye, he could see his bed clothes stained with blood. So much blood, so much blood, the amount that’s when something pierces the solar plexus and goes straight through it. Huh. Giyuu didn’t know where that thought came from.
Giyuu’s head was held to view the sky. He saw something else, though. His sword hilt. It was pointing to the sky, held by a dainty hand. The leather of the straps was stained red. Why was it above him? With much more effort than he anticipated, he lifted his head enough to see where the blade was.
It was covered in blood. Everything was covered in blood. It was in his stomach. Seppuku, his mind reminded him.
“Stay down!” Shinobu shouted, pressing her fingers against Giyuu’s forehead as if he wasn’t already falling back. His head lulled to the side when she let up but scolded him further.
Another color caught his attention aside from the bleeding red and the rippling blue. Silver and gray, he could barely make out the symbols carved into the stone.
Here Lies Rengoku Kyojuro
Proud Brother, Dedicated Son
The Greatest Flame Hashira
Oh. 
He remembered what happened now.
It was his turn to save Kyojuro just as he saved him.
“You seem shy! That’s okay, my little brother is the same way! Tomioka-san, do you know anywhere close by where we could eat!”
Kyojuro saved him from loneliness. It was Giyuu’s time to return the favor.
I’m coming to save you.
I’ll save you, Kyojuro.
I’ll save myself.
I’ll save you.
I’ll save you.
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thewinchestah · 3 months
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"PREY" - Alastor x reader fic
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Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader
Tags: One-Shot, 18+, Smut, NSFW, edging, begging, overstimulation, Alastor does what he wants, there's plot if you squint really hard, alastor in heat, breeding kink, degradation kink, praise kink,
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Word Count: i lost count. it's big.
  | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
A/N: Helloooooo!!! I write a lot but i never publish it! My lovely friend and also biggest inspiration for this fic @smallershorteranduncut ordered me to post this and i'm nothing but her loyal servent! I hope you guys enjoy the fruits of me writing 10 google docs pages today while i was enraged. Also english isn't my first language, no beta we die like men here yadayayfayada! enjoy <;3 (UPDATE!) Part 2 is now up!
-
Everything about the Radio Demon seemed to be designed to make you desire him, want him. Many times in ways you weren’t even ready to admit to yourself. You haven’t been in Hell long, that’s true. But ever since you manifested here you felt like someone had picked your brain open to make Alastor the perfect bait to lure you into even more sinful, sinister paths. 
He had an inexplicable magnetism around him, a piercing presence that made your eyes stuck on him when he worked a room. He had you bewitched and you hadn’t share more than polite pleasantries with each other since you became a guest at the hotel.
Today, again, you were transfixed in his gaze. Sitting in the corner of the hotel lobby, trying to make your embarrassing attraction to him go unnoticed while Alastor waltzed across the room explaining more of his wicked plans to Charlie. God, how you wish he had his wicked way with you. 
He seemed more… on edge today. His red eyes  glowed a little brighter, his nostrils flared a bit more, static filling the room more often, he was smiling with almost barred teeth, and everyone seemed to be avoiding him. Even Charlie was trying to politely dismiss him, the general feeling of uneasiness inside the hotel  just growing larger when Angel stationed himself near your little corner of the room. 
“Don’t go near that creepy motherfucker today, he’s about to lose it.”  Angel alerted, almost whispering, a pair of his hands making the “crazy sign” near his head 
“Isn’t he always creepy and about to lose it?” Husk added, staring at the exchange between the radio demon and Charlie.
“I’m telling you toots, I know that guy definitely isn't normal, but today he is borderline a mass extinction event. I swear, he’s just waiting for someone to give him the excuse” Angel replied, confirming your suspicions. Something was off.
“Uh. Well, about that, I think it’s time we rescue Charlie” 
As if on cue Charlie turned to the corner of the room, gesticulating really hard to be taken away from the small commotion her conversation with Alastor was becoming. 
“Hey Charlie, do you remember that thing with the hotel’s… personalized stationery you asked me to help you today? Let’s do it!” Said angel gently guiding Charlie away from the Radio Demon.
“Guess that’s my cue Alastor! Greaaaaat chat! As always! Have a nice day!! Byeee!” Charlie’s overly chirpy tone giving away her uneasiness. 
Suddenly it felt like all the air was taken out of the room. Alastor’s neck turned into an ungodly angle, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. Static grew around the group, almost suffocating. As your vision went blurry from the sheer power that was being evoked, you contemplated if there was another afterlife. Preferably one where you didn’t inherit a death wish from your previous ones.
And as quick as it started, it was over. 
Alastor just said a creepy “hm” turned on his hell, and walked away. 
It almost felt like it was all in your head, but your friends standing perfectly still and dead silent next to you gave the reality of the situation away: everyone just had a near death-death experience. Maybe it would be a good topic for Charlie’s bonding exercises, who knows with this place. 
“I told ya’ll. Mass. Extinction. Event. Stay out the psycho’s way”
Angel’s voice became background noise in your head, your eyes focusing on the spot where Alastor just threatened everybody’s life without saying a word. As the voices dissipated around you and normalcy slowly returned to the hotel, your mind sank deeper and deeper into the mystery that was the Radio Demon. 
-
They were so oblivious, so naive. Thinking he wasn’t listening what they said about him behind his back. Thinking he was unaware of him being the topic of the discussion when he wasn’t looking. He could bathe in the smell of their fear, and he was relishing it. 
Alastor stared at the new pretty little thing that arrived at the hotel. Oh how pathetically sweet and innocent she was, thinking she was being subtle about her infatuation with him. Thinking she could hide her interest in him, when she was nothing but a doe caught in the headlights of his eyes. Oh, she was just the perfect prey for him, wrapped in this lovely red bow she wore on her hair. 
Angel was right, he was just waiting for an excuse, and she just offered him one on a silver platter. And alastor was everything but a coward. 
-
You cursed a little bit louder than you intended when you saw the blood dripping from your finger. “Stop. making. a. spectacle. of. yourself” you mentally screamed. You still could not figure Charlie’s “special stationary stapler” out, so stapling your finger was bound to happen. 
Even though it was not much, the silly little cut was stinging like a bitch, and your best efforts to stop the bleeding were futile, considering the mess on the hem of your skirt. Still high on the adrenaline from earlier, your shaking hands searched for something, anything to put on your finger so you could continue your work without anyone noticing. Everyone already had enough for one day, it was fine. 
“My dear, did you just hurt yourself?” Alastor’s voice invaded your ears. Oh, fuck. That’s it, he was going to murder you for being so incompetent with the damned stapler.
Turning to face him, you meet his piercing gaze, not sure if you should run and scream for help. “Oh no worries alastor, it’s just a small cut, i can manage!” you give him your most confident smile. 
Alastor’s head tilts, eyes burning red as he watches the small droplets of your blood make their way down your index finger.  
“Nonsense, I can't have my staff running around with injuries and bloodied clothes. We are in hell, but we are not savages, dear” He seems transfixed by the blood, and you are too scared to move, too scared to anything other than hold the weight of his gaze and hope for the best. Your lizard brain is screaming for you to run, ask for help. Maybe Charlie isn’t too far away, could you make a run for it? Somehow your survival instincts override your brain, maybe all those hours watching true crime back on earth weren’t in vain, and you decide against running. Let him initiate first. 
He catches your wrist, trapping it inside his deadly claws. His face, towering over you, comes all the way down to inspect the offending finger. You can feel his breathing on your skin. 
Your breathing stops. You swallow an imaginary lump. He’s gonna bite off your fing-
“Would you be a doll and let me take care of it? Blood being unnecessary wasted truly abhors me” 
You must have said yes at some point, you don’t really remember, now you are holding the red handkerchief he handed  you, answering his request to “please follow him”. Trailing behind the Radio Demon, both of you walk through the large corridors. 
This might be the time to scream for help. the voices inside your head warn. With every step of his feet you hear his microphone going tsk tsk tsk where it touches the ground. You are walking the death row, the paintings on the wall chanting “dead woman walking, dead woman walking”. 
“Keep pressuring the wound darling, we are almost there” he gently commands you, too gently… it feels almost… soft, pleading. The way Alastor goes from 0 to 100 is giving you whiplash. 
He slows down, reaching for the door knob of an unknown room. Ever the gentleman, he gestures for you to enter first.
the door locks behind you.
 if i’m being murdered, at least i’m being murdered with class. 
“Don’t be silly, I’m not going to murder you” Alastor says, almost singing the last part of the sentence. 
“Oh fuck, i said that out loud, didn’t I?” you blurted out 
“Yes you did. And yes, I also noticed your lovely doe eyes on me every time i’m in the room” 
Your brain short circuits. That 's it. You are dead. He’s not going to murder you (apparently), but you are going to die of embarrassment. It will feel like murder. He knows, fuck, he knows. He knows about your crush (?) and he’s going to drag you for it. You are going to be so dragged the angels will pity you and bring you to heaven. A creative way to be redeemed, Charlie should know about this. Your thoughts are going downhill as a big snowball, there are too many of them and you can’t follow a single coherent train of thought. You don’t even want to know how you look in the middle of this. You must look pathetic, truly like a doe caught in headlights. And then you hear your name once.
Twice now, in a sing-song voice.
Your eyes fly open towards the sound, breaking from the anxiety induced spell as you realize the Radio Demon had just called you, by name. He knows your name???
“Ah hahah! You’re back.” Alastor says, as he starts to circle you like a predator. Your eyes, as always, follow his across the room.
 “I don’t like to repeat myself, little doe. You heard what I asked?” 
Again, you don’t really remember answering, your brain is going AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA as you watch him pace around you, eyes burning red, demanding your attention. Teeth slightly barred, voice on the edge of something. Was that “X” on his forehead always there?
“I asked if you know what you are doing to me” static fills the room as he finishes speaking. Alastor’s clawed hand trapped your bloodied finger dangerously close to his grinning lips. Your brain is doing flips as he stares deep into your soul, and when your thoughts land you make the connection. Alastor is horny. Alastor is horny for y-
“You see, little doe, I know what your eyes hide when you desperately lower them everytime I come near you. I know how you feel you can hide in plain sight if you stay quiet enough. But I can taste it. Your fear. Your lust. In the air. In your blood.” He has a white knuckled grip on your wrist now, same with his microphone. You lower your guard, eyes going from startled to lustful. “Good thing right now there’s nothing more i want in this godforsaken pit than your lust, pet”
You want this. There’s no point in lying to yourself. You want Alastor to fuck you. You’ve fantasized about the Radio Demon taking you more times than you can count. More times than you would like to admit to yourself. This feels deeply wrong, but you crave it. 
Fuck it, you are in hell, there’s nothing to lose. Alastor is still watching you, impatiently. For the first time today you realize you actually forgot to say something. He’s waiting. Alastor is waiting for your permission. 
“Take my breath away, Alastor” 
Your permission might have been really loud, it felt like you were screaming the words. But you can’t be sure, it might have been a whisper. Either way he didn’t miss it, what happens next is fast, angry and delicious. 
Alastor pounces and licks the blood on your finger, something clicks inside him as he tastes the red liquid, because he lets go of his microphone instantly and his arms grab your waist aggressively, so forceful you wouldn’t be surprised if it breaks skin. You shouldn’t be so turned on by this, by the sight of a psychopathic demon drinking your blood. But you are, and there’s no going back. 
“Strip” he orders. You want to say to him that you can’t take your clothes off your person with him holding you like this. He must have realized the conundrum: if he wants you naked, he has to let go of you. To Alastor, letting go of you right now is simply unthinkable. So he doesn’t: you feel his claws cut the bodice of your dress open, sending the most delicious shivers down your spine. Another claw rips your skirt apart, and you are almost fully naked in the Radio Demon’s arms, pressing your body hard on his still impeccable dressed body.
It’s humiliating, it’s dangerous, it’s hot, it is delicious, to be at his complete mercy, just how you always wanted.
Somehow both of you made your way close to the enormous bed in the middle of the room. Alastor cornered you, so the only way you could escape was walking backwards towards the bed. The brilliant bastard. 
You feel your calves hitting the edge of the bed, and Alastor breaks away.
 Pity, your mind complains. Get him back to touching you again. right. now,.
“Now now, we should establish some rules for this, pet” Alastor’s hands might have stopped touching you, but his piercing eyes never did. He knocks you on top of the bed, you lay there sprawled open just for him. His hands move up to do a quick work of his bowtie
“Rule one: you will take what I give you. Nothing more, nothing less. What I give you is enough. You might feel like you can’t take anymore, but you can. You will take it, I will make you take it” He takes his tailcoat off, his frame towering over you, even with your body completely flat on the mattress and his in front of it. 
“ Rule two: every ounce of your pleasure is mine and mine only. Mine to give, mine to take. And you will give me everything. I want to hear every sound, to feel every touch, to know every nasty thought that runs inside that pretty little head of yours. You will not suppress anything, I wanna hear your moans when you make a mess of yourself as I take everything I desire from your delicious body. I will relish on your desperate screams of pleasure.Nothing outside these walls matter” He is climbing on the bed now. You hold the weight of his gaze, underneath your demonic lover’s eyes your skin burns.
“Rule three: don’t you dare cum without my permission, good girls earn their orgasms and you will be a good girl. Or else…” static starts to pick up around the room, you are seeing the blackest black that ever was, his shadows enveloping you both. Nothing outside these walls matter. “Understood?” Alastor says as he pins your hands on top of your head, against the fancy headboard. His hand cups one of your boobs and he is worrying your nipple between his sharp claws. finally finally, your mind sings. You feel a surge of magic binding your wrists in green chains, attached to the headboard. It’s overbearing, it’s ridiculous. His magic feels like him, another part of him for you to take.
He pinches your nipple particularly hard and you moan softly, pleasure and pain consuming any other sensation. You forgot to answer him, you realize. You’ve barely started and you are already being bad. “yes alastor, yes.. but please don’t stop” the soft whimper leaves your lips.
“lovely.” he replies, and with that his mouth is on your nipple, sucking it while he administers his wicked ministrations to your other one. His sharp teeth prickling on the edge of breaking skin, and you already feel like you won’t be able to take all of him. 
His hand trails down to aggressively grip your thighs, his tongue sucking the neglected nipple his fingers left. Your moans become frequent and messy, if he’s already making you go insane with the beginnings of foreplay... You might pass out and die when he starts fucking you, but you don’t care. Let him show you the true meaning of la petite mort.
“My my, what do we have here” his hand leaves your thigh to trace the wetness of your panties. A clawed finger rips it apart, the last barrier between you and total consumption by the Radio Demon. He takes the finger between your glistening lips, not entering, just teasing 
“I don’t think i will get enough of this pretty little body of ours anytime soon, pet” he says as his finger finally enters your sex, He moves his digit with an expertise you didn’t really know he had in him,  making you whimper his name, ooohs and aaaahs, your hips start threshing from the pleasure. If you continue at this pace, you will be  begging for permission to cum too soon. Pathetic. you think to yourself. Because you know how hard this building orgasm will be,you don’t know if he will grant you more than one orgasm. And will you murder you yourself if you don’t feel his cock inside you tonight. You take a deep breath in between your moans and will your hips to stay in place, your nerves to calm down. 
Alastor adds another finger, and it takes all of your willpower not to become a puddle of wetness right there. You bite your lip so hard you taste blood. 
“you do make a mess of yourself, don’t you? you just can’t help it” he says as he curls his digits inside you. Your hips start thrashing hard again, and you sink them deeper into the bed. The chains on your wrists shake with the effort to hold back. As if alastor wasn’t going to notice. “no no no what did I say?” he snaps angrily, he’s eyes flash red at you and he takes his fingers out with a wet “pop”, you feel like crying at the emptiness. “please please alastor, don’t stop” you plead. His hands leave you entirely, you are left with just his piercing gaze, the one that makes your skin burn. “did I say you could hold back? don’t pretend like you aren’t a common whore for me, that you love how pathetic it feels that you are creaming yourself and we haven’t even really started” 
his condescending tone just makes everything even more sublime. It’s so wrong how good being told you are nothing more than a common whore by the Radio Demon feels. But you never felt anything close to this. “please Alastor” you beg again, nothing but a small whisper
“I would love to taste this pussy, so red already for me, but since you broke one of the rules… i’m afraid I will make you understand that are nothing but my pretty cockslut the hard way” 
Punishment? His punishment sounds ever better than his praise right now. You moan at his voice. He laughs. 
His knees cage you, as he lifts his upper body from you and starts undoing his zipper. He is taking his cock out. Oh fuck, he’s gonna fuck you without anymore foreplay. And he’s not going to be gentle about it either. You shiver. 
Alastor pumps himself a few times, his cock is big, thick, and an angry red shade, flush red like that, because of you, just for you. He’s gonna make you pay: pay for holding back from him, pay for making him feel like an animal and almost losing his hard constructed control. 
The look on his face says it all, he’s gonna take it out on you and you can’t do nothing about it.
You don’t have much time to think about the repercussions, in one swift motion his tip is already inside you, stretching you deliciously. Your brain short circuits again, the feeling of his cock inside you is everything you imagine and more. Depraved, heavenly, delicious. You struggle in your binds again, you want desperately to touch him. To feel his skin beneath your finger, to scratch him, mark him. But oh well, he’s the Radio Demon, he’s the one in charge and you are his prey.
Alastor starts to slowly enter you, he’s trying his best to hold back. He knows if he does this too fast it will hurt in a way he doesn’t want you to feel. And by the look on his face going slow is as torturous for him as it is for you. tantalizing inch after tantalizing inch he spreads the walls of your cunt apart. You understand now why this is punishment, it hurts in a perfect way, it hurts even more that he is doing it slowly, and not just thrusting like you imagined  he would, if he had more time to work on you. 
You become a mess of moans and incoherent words. His cock is halfway inside you now “HoLY FUCK ALASTOR” you scream. It’s already too much. 
“There’s nothing holy about this my dear. I’m going to breed you. I’m going to break you” and with that he buries himself to the hilt inside you. Now you truly scream in pleasure and pain “you won’t be able to walk straight for days, you will feel me in every step, and you will thank me for it”. His thrusts pick up at breakneck speed, the bed shakes from the sheer force that Alastor is using to fuck you. Every snap of his hips you moan more and more. 
The sound you make when he takes everything out and enters you at once is so obscene that it would make Angel Dust blush. He’s growling now, his antlers growing bigger as he fucks you like his life dependend on it. As he fucks you like he hates you. 
Alastor pushes your hips higher, and suddenly he’s even deeper. His other hand holding your waist in a bruising grip. The strain on your pinned hands will bruise too. His lips graze the skin of your collarbone, he looks so feral you are scared he will maul, the thrill of not knowing adding to your fucked up sense of pleasure. 
He seems to pick up on your fear, and bites down on your collarbone, hauling as he tastes your blood and buries himself inside you again and again. Moans turned into screams, and the only thing coming out of your lips is his name, spoken like a profane prayer. You would give everything you have to Alastor, and he doesn’t even have to ask.
Your orgasm has been building for a while now, the coil on your belly becoming tighter and tighter, like a supernova about to be born. “Alastor, please please let me come” you beg. His unfocused eyes stare down at you, as he takes a moment from feasting on your sweet blood to address your desperate, sweet pleas.
“Don’t. You. Dare” he says, punctuating every word with a sharp thrust. As much as you want, you are not sure you will be able to hold any longer. “I beg you alastor, please let me cum, i will let you do anything you want. but i need it so badly, please please”
You sounded so desperate when you begged, so beautiful.
“Don’t strike deals you don’t know you can fulfill, pet” his voice is low, a warning. You ignore it. “I promise Alastor, anything”. Alastor laughs.
 his finger touches your clit as he finally allows your sweet relief “you may come now, sweet doe” and that’s it, you are off, you are dead. You see stars, you see the entire universe as you scream out and climax. Walls tightening around Alastor’s monster cock, eyes rowling, his name a scream on your lips. You ride out your wave slowly, but Alastor is not slowing down.
Instead he is picking up his pace, maneuvering your hips even higher, your chains are stretched to the limit. You can feel them start piercing your skin. Thrust after thrust the sensation becomes too much, you are too overstimulated to go through all of this again.
“i can’t take it, i can’t take it!”
Alastor doesn’t care. “I told you not to make deals if you can’t hold them, didn’t I?” You don’t answer, you can’t. you can’t to anything but let him fuck you as hard and as much as he want. “but you are such a little cockslut for me that you can’t help it. What a shame” 
He is gripping your hips so hard it breaks skin, tiny trails of blood on his claws. “you will take it. You better take it, or I will make you take it” static picks up as he threatens the last words. You know you are spent, you know how bad it hurts, you know how bad his words sound, but the lines between pleasure and pain are so blurred that you can’t think coherently. Even this  pain of being broken feels good. 
Still, tears fill your eyes and you start crying, from pleasure, from pain, you don’t know anymore. What Alastor is doing to you has no precedent. No one can do this like he does. He knows torture too well, and he is tortouring you in the most decadent, delicious ways possible. “alastor i want to, i want to so bad but i just can’t” the tears sting your eyes and stain your face. 
Alastor sees it. He slows down just a bit, his voice softening “oh my dear doe, but you can. Just this once more, just for me. One more” his voice is so maddening soft it acts like fuel to your tears. Your skin tingles and you feel giddy, somehow your throbbing hot, wet cunt seems to find the right amount of relief, and you can feel only pleasure again.
Alastor continues to fuck you, your moans returning to normal, you are being so loud now, making a mess of yourself, just like he said, and a big hand comes to cover your mouth. 
“Oh we can’t have you being this loud can we?” his voice goes to that delicious mocking tone. His thrusts are slower now, but as deep as they can go. “what would you friends say if they found out that you moan like a common whore for their feared radio demon.. hum,.?”
You start to feel the pit of your belly tightening again, and alastor doesn’t stop humiliating you. The degradation feels just the right amount of perfection. You are exactly what he says you are. A common whore when it comes to him. “weren’t you ashamed just a few moments ago? trying to hold back the sinful sounds you make when I touch you? I already gave you one orgasm. I’ve been way too generous for my liking. I should stop right now since you feel so conscious about this”  Alator’s breathing is becoming erratic, his thrusts sharp, hard, and out of the breakneck rhythm he was torturing you before.You start moaning even louder through his hand. “ungrateful little pet. You are just so greedy for one more orgasm, you don’t even care that everyone downstairs can hear you hm??”
You can’t think straight. you feel on the edge of glory, this orgasm threatening to be harder than your previous one, as if it is possible. “alastor i’m so sorry, i know i don’t deserve it” you muffle behind his hand, he hears you speaking and takes if off “but can you please let me cum? just this once? just for you. Please Al” his thrusts are truly erratic now. He’s close too, even though you are too wrapped up on your own sensations to notice 
“please” you beg, nothing more than a whisper. Already making peace with the fact that you are going to come without his permission and he will probably never fuck you again
“Good girl, you can come now”
instantly as you are granted his permissions your world explodes, blinding hot pleasure takes over your body, the waves of pleasure making your heart beat so fast you feel like it’s going to stop. The petit mort is coming, and her sweet embrace envelops you, specially now that you feel Alastor’s cock twitching and spilling his seed inside you. You scream his name. Maybe you hear him screaming yours too. You don’t know anymore, your nerves are singing from pleasure unheard of back  when you were alive. Pleasure so great it could only be found in hell. The most heavily, depraved way of torture. 
You come down from your high, still dizzy, your body going limp. You are not dead, but you are positively spent. You give in into the warm and fuzziness of sleep. 
The last thing you remember is the softness of a blanket, a gentle kiss on your cheek.
“Oh my dear, I knew you had one more on you,spending yourself this way just for me! What a truly precious thing, doe”
You might be dreaming now.
-
You weren’t dreaming. Alastor praises you, knowing his words will be the last thing you hear before a night of peaceful, deep dreamless slumber. He makes sure to put the softest velvet blanket he owns on your body, not to make the damage you gladly allowed your body to take for him an inconvenience. Tomorrow you will wake up to fancy letters of praise and sweet chocolate covered strawberries. And no one will know how Alastor found the perfect doe to breed as he pleases during the height of his mating season.
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hanyjar · 1 year
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do stars return?
itoshi sae x reader
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summary: your childhood friend leaves, and you question if he’ll ever come back.
notes: [1.2k words.] i like to think this man has super angst potential but that won’t be unearthed today LOL no beta we die like men <3
disclaimers: childhood friends trope, angst (if u squint) to fluff, making out for a lil bit, poetic dialogue, forgiveness theme.
masterlist.
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Itoshi Sae shines.
It's a truth you've come to realise at the budding age of seven. He, with his tepid stature and equally cold attitude, is destined for greatness.
A star, you whisper, once upon a time. A time where he lived without a million eyes watching his every move. You will become a star, I just know it. 
And back in the day, it wasn't just you who believed it. Everyone did. From his teachers to his classmates, to his parents and his brother. It was an indisputable fact that the boy who dedicated himself wholly to soccer, a prodigy who made the sport look like an art form, had his future set out for stardom.
So it is no surprise to anyone when your naive declaration comes into fruition.
His face is plastered on every billboard - as far as the eye can see. Japan's pride, he is known as. The Ice Prince; he who dominates the field; a force to be reckoned with.
Itoshi Sae: the star.
You are proud. No doubt. Though, it’s false to say that you aren’t envious. Sae is a trailblazer: one that surpasses all of his enemies with a nonchalant stare, and transcends into the sky with the other geniuses. He is a part of the lucky few who are destined to be gazed upon with awe. Everything and anything you have achieved pales in comparison.
(You’d surely hear reprimands if you voice those thoughts out loud, though. In your time, you have made a name for yourself. An expert in your passion at the mere age of seventeen; a trailblazer in your own right.
…It’ll just never compare to the name Sae built for himself, you think with finality.)
But above the awe and envy you feel whenever Sae’s name comes up, is love.
Love: a trap that is inevitable for a childhood friend of his. A pitfall that you have fell into. Your love for him is a bittersweet fact, one which tugs at your heartstrings whenever his face shows up on your phone. Sweet, because childhood love is a beautiful, rare thing - you’re glad that it has happened, in all honesty - though bitter all the same, because he is a star.
And stars shoot past. They never go back.
(He, will never go back.)
So for the years that Sae is gone, you float by on that knowledge. Merely acknowledging him as the one who crashed into your life, and left as turbulently as he came. You work diligently to mute the love that festered in your heart, knowing it will never be. 
You wholeheartedly believe that your life will continue in this fashion.
Then, the impossible happens.
The star returns, seven years later. On your doorstep, nonetheless.
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"Itoshi?" 
Somehow, even in the ungodly hour of 12:56AM, Sae manages to look as beautiful as the day he left. It's unfair. Unfair for him to show up at your doorstep unannounced; unfair for him to have grown into his boyish looks as gracefully as he did.
It’s unfair for him to still make your heart race, even after all this time.
"Who else would it be?" He scoffs, the bite of his words not quite reaching his eyes. "And, Itoshi, seriously?"
His voice makes your heart leap. It's like you are ten again. "Well… You haven't been Sae for a while now," you say. "Not since you ghosted me, anyways."
Sae's eyes flicker with an emotion you thought he is incapable of feeling. "I didn't mean to." Regret. The Ice Prince is feeling regret, all for you. And if you were ten again, maybe that alone would shake you. But you aren't. You are several years wiser. You know better.
"It's fine if you want to be the best in the world. I don't blame you for that - not at all. But you can be number one and not neglect the ones that love you, y'know?" You slowly retreat back into the comfort of your apartment, hand creeping onto the back of the door. "Goodnight, Itoshi. You should go home; it's late."
You push the door, preparing to end the conversation then and there.
It’s not supposed to be like this, you realise. He, your first love, is supposed to stay in the past. Itoshi Sae should not be at your doorstep past midnight, suitcase in tow, as if he came straight from the airport to your house. The feelings you hold for him should be locked up within the depths of your heart - not surging in full force from just the sight of him.
But alas, fate plays its mischievous tricks once again. And Sae is not the type of person who lets blunders get away scot-free.
"…You love me?” He says, barely above a whisper, foot wedged between the door and the entrance. An impenetrable silence follows from your end. 
Seven years older, but still a fool in the face of love, it seems.
“I did,” I still do, your mind yells. “But you’re a star now, Sae. Just like I said you would be.” Your breath hitches, nails forming crescent-shaped indents within your palm. “…And stars don’t fall in love with the big, black sea of nothingness, do they?”
A beat of silence ensues from his end. You cringe at your own word choice. Maybe he left, you think. Great. Itoshi Sae was at your door, and you scared him away with your stupid love and even stupider confession. How stupid can you even get—
The door hinge creaks as you topple over, shattering your inner turmoil. Sae announces his intrusion with a loud sigh.
“Hey! What are you?— This is considered trespassing—“ You begin. Sae shuts you up with a forceful kiss, pinning you against the door that you were hiding behind minutes before. It’s messy, tantalising, addicting. The smell of his aquatic cologne fills your senses, and he cups your face in between his hands. He feels so warm. He feels like home.
Sae’s whole body screams of need. The need for you; the need to make up for the lost time. 
You hate how you are so weak for him. 
“Idiot.” He deadpans as the two of you part. “If you’re going to get all poetic on me, fine. Stars don’t fall in love with the galaxy.” 
You remove yourself from his arms, eyes scrunching in offence. Bold thing for him to say, especially after he just kissed your lips raw. “So… You’re not in love with me?”
“Let me finish.” Sae is quick to pull you back into his embrace, voice impossibly soft for the otherwise stone-faced boy. “Stars don’t fall in love with the sky. They live in it; I live with you.”
Sae hopes that the implication is clear.
You, alone, are his hope; you are the reason he sparkles as much as he does. Even while you were miles apart, his childhood friend was the sole thing on his mind. A star cannot shine without its galaxy, after all.
“You’re not off the hook, by the way.” You breathe lightly, laying your head against his chest. “Seven years is still a long time. I don’t think you can cuddle your way out of this one, Itoshi.”
A small smile elicits from his face, “I can try, can’t I?”
…And this star is willing to wait for his galaxy to forgive him, no matter how long it takes.
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dearsnow · 8 months
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ORLANDO (FIRST KISS)
- charlie, your best friend, attempts to set you up with the crush he is convinced you have. (charlie dalton x gn!reader, includes some neil being a good friend, slight angst into fluff, happy au, no beta we die like real men)
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word count: 2,647
a/n - i love charlie so much oh my god 😭 hopefully there’s more to come with him! i’m planning a very long fic for him, hopefully similar in feeling to my neil fic “the last time” :) this is slightly inspired by the song “orlando” by leith ross so pls check them out!!
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It’s 1:32 AM on a Friday night (Saturday, technically, but that rarely seems to matter), and Charlie Dalton is refusing to let you sleep.
“You’ve got to tell me. I swear, cross my heart, I won’t tell a soul.” He begs.
Charlie has been your best friend for god knows how long. You met so long ago that you don’t even remember how or why; it just was. That’s exactly what your relationship is. There’s really no rhyme or reason, considering you would detest anyone else with his personality, but you’re friends anyways, and you love him with all your heart. Opposites attract, you suppose. You don’t know for sure. Most days, including today, he is extremely and desperately annoying.
You slump down onto his bed, covering your eyes with your hands. He’s gotten it into his mind that you have a crush, and he won’t rest until he finds out who it is. Lucky you.
“Charlie, it’s no one.” You groan, peeking past your fingers to stare at him with a cross expression. “Even if I did like someone, I wouldn’t tell you.”
The problem is, you do like someone, and he’s sitting right in front of you with messy hair and pajama pants.
Your feelings for him, just like your meeting, are so far buried in the past that you couldn’t dig them up with an excavator. One day, you suppose, you just started to fall in love with him. He’s annoying and rich and a total smart-ass, but you love him. In some soft, quiet ways, he is the kindest boy you’ve ever met.
He notices when you get cut off mid-conversation or when you’re just a little too uncomfortable to talk to the person in front of you. He knows you like the back of his hand and puts his knowledge to use without ever having to ask, like how he always gets you exactly what you want on your birthday. He’s smart and energized and a breath of fresh air, no matter how stale the room is. And, of course, though you would rarely tell him, he is dashingly handsome.
He sits up straighter and begins listing every boy you’ve ever come in contact with. “Meeks? You always did like his type. Ooh, or Pitts? He’s a pitiful lady-killer. Todd is another good choice. Knox has got his thing with Chris, so you probably wouldn’t like him unless you’re into getting your heart broken.” He stops his ranting to take a breath, then continues on. “You cannot like Cameron because if you do, I won’t ever talk to you again. It isn’t Cameron, right?”
You scoff. “I don’t have a crush. Stop trying to guess a person that doesn’t exist.”
“Neil?” He questions. You hesitate just a bit before waving away his suggestion. Neil is a very good friend of both yours and his, and truthfully, he would definitely be the best boyfriend out of all of them. Despite that, you do not love him like you love Charlie. Not even close.
He catches on to your hesitation with scary accuracy. The tilt of your head, the twitch of your hand, the way the corners of your mouth almost curved up into a smile. Charlie feels his heart drop. “Oh my god, it’s Neil. Of course it’s Neil, it’s always Neil! You like Neil.” Neil is, unbeknownst to him, a complete catch. It makes sense that you would like him. After all, he’s kind, outgoing, and a whole lot nicer than Charlie is. That doesn’t make it hurt any less.
Like you, Charlie doesn’t exactly know when you came into his life. Maybe a stuffy dinner party or a prep event- all that matters to him is that you’re here now, and he loves you. He does, however, know when he started loving you.
It was seventh grade at a school dance, and you had decided to go with a boy he barely knew. When the boy asked you out with a pocketed rose and a shy smile, Charlie felt his blood boiling. How dare he, he thought, take you away from him? You’re his best friend. He would have bought you an entire flower shop had you said the word.
Seeing you waltz with him in your pretty outfit, as awkward and stiff as you both were, was too much for him to bear. Charlie left early, prompting you to follow him. The scene that resulted was one you both tried heavily to erase.
“Charlie, what’s wrong?” You panted, hurrying after him as fast as your pinchy shoes would allow. “Charlie. Charlie! Talk to me.”
“It’s nothing. Just go away.” He sniffled. You turned the corner to see him sitting on a curb, tears tracking down his face. If you knew one thing about Charlie Dalton, it was that he hated crying. You sat down next to him, but he turned to face the trees to his left.
“What happened?” You asked gently. How he despised your gentle care.
“I hate you. Go away.” His voice broke in the middle of his sentence. “I never want to see you again.”
Something in you snapped in that moment, something angry and sad all at once. He was hurting, and you loathed it, but Charlie always got what he wanted in the end.
You stood up and left, muttering a “sorry” over your shoulder.
He tried to avoid you for a while after that, but as with all fated things, he couldn’t stay away for long. He went back to you without a hint of apology, and you took him. Begrudgingly, you just couldn’t be without your best friend for very long.
He knew he loved you then, and that fact hasn’t changed in the present.
“I don’t like Neil.” You insist. “Trust me.”
Charlie stands to pace around his room, talking with his hands as per usual. “Y’know, you always seem smiley around him. I should’ve seen it coming, really. The way you talk to him can’t be platonic.” You sigh from the bed, and Charlie flops down beside you. You can feel the heat radiating from his skin. It’s pleasant, like a ray of sun on a cold day. You instinctively move closer to him as he opens his mouth. “I could probably get you a date with him. Not that you couldn’t do it yourself, but,” he pauses, a hint of hurt humor in his eyes, “I could be your wingman.”
He doesn’t want to be. He really doesn’t want to be, but what can he do? He would rather see you happy with Neil than miserable with no one. Despite how much he hates it, he’s gotten over most of his prepubescent jealousy. He knows deep down in the very achingly sad part of him that you don’t love him. At least, not the way he loves you.
You’re facing him, your nose inches away from his chest as your heart pounds in yours. He really wants you to get with Neil. Well, if that’s how he feels, you don’t feel the need to reject the offer. Maybe this is just the thing you need. What’s the point in pining after him when he’s actively trying to set you up with his second best friend?
“Yeah. That… I would like that.” Charlie’s heart crumbles in his chest.
“Then I’ll get right on it.” He grins. Behind the smile, sadness is swimming in his eyes, but you don’t bother to look at them.
It’s winter break, one of Charlie’s favorite times of the year, but he doesn’t think he’s ever felt this sad before.
By the time the next weekend rolled around, you had almost forgotten about Charlie’s proposed setup. But, on this Saturday when you’re cozy in your room, Neil comes knocking at your door.
You open the door, slightly surprised. He’s holding a bouquet of flowers with a small grin on his face. They’re your favorite flowers.
“Hi.” He says. His voice is breathless.
You raise your eyebrows, but for some reason, you can’t help but smile. Neil is standing in your doorway, and you feel like you know what he’s going to ask. “Hey.”
“Do you want to go on a date with me?” He implores, holding the bouquet out for you to take. “It doesn’t have to be right now, but… I’m ready if you are.” He’s dressed in a crisp suit, and if you’re being honest, you’d hate to make him go home without putting it to use.
You laugh lightly, the feeling bubbling out of your stomach. “Yeah, I’d love that. Just let me get ready and I’ll be out in ten minutes.”
Two days prior to Saturday, Charlie proposed a dead poets town trip. They were milling around, bouncing from shop to shop before Charlie clasped Neil on the shoulder.
“What do you think about Y/N?”
Neil turned, confused. “What do you mean?”
There was a smirk on Charlie’s face, but he hesitated like he didn’t actually want to say the words he was about to say. “I mean, I think you two would be a pretty cute couple.”
Neil let out a huff of air, almost in disbelief. “You’ve been in love with them since seventh grade, Nuwanda. Don’t try to act like you aren’t.”
Charlie gasped exaggeratedly and put a hand over his heart. “How dare you suggest that! I just want the best for my dearest friends.” The others laughed. Every single one of them knew that Charlie harbored deep feelings for you- and every single one of them knew he would never admit it. “Look, just one date. Ask them out on Saturday. They really like you, and I know they’re free, so they can’t pull any excuses.”
“I just don’t know.” Neil admitted. “They’re great and all, but I’d feel bad if I stole away your crush of four years.”
“You won’t be stealing anything, my boy. Just think about it.” Charlie knew he was lying, and it left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he also knew that somehow, he was making the right decision.
Like all of your romantic endeavors, your date with Neil is slightly awkward. He’s your friend, sure, but you’ve never really thought about him like this before. You never even considered dating him. It’s always been Charlie. Maybe, just maybe, it’s time to broaden your horizons.
After the initial tension, you would like to believe it went well. Neil walks you out of the restaurant, holding your arm. He’s smiling, and you feel your own expression falter. You like him, you really do, but some part of you knows that he will never be Charlie.
He leans closer to you, almost close enough to touch. Your heart pounds in your chest as he whispers something into your ear. “Don’t look, but Charlie’s watching. Pretend I’m kissing you.”
You’re taken aback as your eyes try to search for his brown hair, but after a second, you comply. You shut your eyes and thread your fingers through Neil’s. To anyone else, especially anyone inside of the restaurant, it looks like you’re smashing tongues with him.
Neil walks you home as the day fades into night, and as much as you ask, your questions are left unanswered with a sly wink.
“I can’t believe you would do that.” Charlie rages. “It was meant to be a date, not a date and a tongue fuck! That was their first kiss, Neil, and you’ve stripped them of it!” He doesn’t know why he’s so outrageously enraged. It was a quick kiss from the boy you’ve been crushing on. He should be overjoyed for you.
“It wasn’t like that, Charlie. Just ask them.” Neil is surprisingly calm, considering his friend is screaming at him. “Ask them. Go on.” He pushes Charlie’s shoulder. “I walked them home.”
Charlie grumbles, his gut twisted into shaking, angry knots. “I will. If they tell me you did anything weird, though, you’re dead.” Neil shakes his head.
“I think you’d kill me even if I didn’t kiss them.”
For the second time, you hear a knock at your door. This one is loud and frenzied, but through the haze, you can tell who it is. Who else would knock so harshly at 11:23 at night? It’s a good four hours after your date, so it definitely can’t be Neil.
You open the door, clad in pajamas and a frown. “Seriously, Charlie? You’re gonna wake the whole neighborhood.”
“Did he kiss you?” Ah, straight to the point. He’s never one to beat around the bush.
“What’s it to you?” You defend. “You didn’t care about that possibility when you wanted me to date him.” You cross your arms. Why the hell is he so upset? You don’t understand anything about this. His motives, his feelings, right now, they’re more confusing than he’s ever been. Well, save for one night. Oddly, this reminds you of that dance a few years back. You don’t want that to happen again, so whatever’s going on has to stop.
He opens his mouth and then closes it like he’s actually considering what he wants to say for the first time in his life. “I just…” A defeated expression tugs his face down. Your heart plummets. You rarely ever see him crestfallen. The last time was four years ago, and you had hoped you would never see him like that again.
He turns to walk away. He can’t do it, he just can’t. He’s walking so fast the pavement under his feet is a blur, and you chase after him.
“Charlie, what are you-“ He turns, seeing the confusion on your face.
When he looks at you, all Charlie can see is love. He loves your voice, the curve of your lips, the way you do anything and everything. In that moment, when he sees you with tired eyes, his inhibitions flee like rabbits from a wolf. Maybe, just maybe, he can.
Before you can ask, yet after you see the fire in his eyes, he grabs your arm and cuts you off.
“Can I kiss you?”
You’re taken aback for a moment, lips parted, not speaking a word. His hair is messy and the tear tracks on his cheeks glisten in the street lights. It’s like everything you’ve ever wanted has sprung to life before your eyes. “Yes, but-“
He presses his lips to yours, effectively cutting off any further communication once again. His grip on you softens as his hands reach up to cup your face. Your eyes flutter shut, and a million different things race through your mind. All you can consciously think is that you never want it to end.
When he pulls away, breathless, something new is shining in his eyes. “I hope that wasn’t bad for a second kiss.” He smiles. He’s still worried, more so than he’s ever been, but that was the most amazing thing he thinks he’s ever done.
“Second? Charlie, that was my first.”
He pauses. “So Neil didn’t kiss you?”
You laugh, and upon seeing his even more excited face, you laugh so hard you double over. He joins, and your giggles are probably too loud for how late it is. “No! God no, he told me to pretend because you were watching.” Your voice comes out humorous and strained, with so much joy behind the tone that Charlie can feel himself starting to laugh again. “Were- Were you in the restaurant for our whole date?”
“Yeah.” He chokes out. “I couldn’t just let the love of my life date some other guy without my knowledge, right?”
“Oh, totally. Maybe you should ask me out next time, then, to completely avoid this whole scenario.” He pulls you in, laughing against your shoulder.
“Sure. Yeah, I think I will. Next time, I’ll make sure of it.”
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The Girl in IT - 7. The All Hands Meeting
A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU
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The LIST │ Series Masterlist
Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)
Chapter Summary: A look into a typical day at Miller Construction Group. Chaos ensues (naturally).
Chapter Warnings and Tags: No outbreak AU, Boss x Employee Relationship, Sugar Daddy Lite, Smut, SO MUCH SMUT, Age Gap, Older Man/Younger woman, So much dirty talk, Office sex, Desk sex, Inappropriate usage of PowerPoint, Tommy fucks around and finds out, No Beta we die like men!
Word Count: 4.4K
A/N: And the hijinks are back! I wanted to try something new this week, and it was the perfect opportunity to showcase all of our fun supporting characters in 'The Girl in IT'! I thought what better way to introduce everyone was to include their commentary, like an episode of 'The Office'! This one is a doozy, and I hope you all enjoy!
#MCG ADMIN 50 members Sarah (HR) Good morning, Team! I hope you're all doing well. I'd like to announce a mandatory All-Hands HR Meeting today at 11 am in Conference Room A, co-facilitated by Tess and me. We'll have a brief presentation, and for those working remotely, please log into Zoom to join the meeting. Following the session, thanks to Bill, we'll have lunch and refreshments provided. Feel free to reach out if you have any questions. Looking forward to seeing all of you soon! Tommy  Sarah, are you gonna bust your Papi's balls in front of everyone for posting that naughty photo? 💀☠️🪦 Frank (Interior Design) Will there be an opportunity for discussion following the presentation? I'm eager to delve into the minds of SlackGate and understand the motivations behind their actions the other day. Connie (Reception) It's clearly because they're fucking, Frank. 🍆🍑🦪 Frank (Interior Design) Who is? Our fearless leader and our shy girl in IT? Until one of them makes it official, it's just hearsay! Is this meeting a hard launch for a new power couple? 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨 Sarah (HR) Yes, there will be an open-forum discussion after my presentation but NO, we will not be talking about the events of the other day in detail. Connie, this is a professional space and we will conduct ourselves as such. Connie (Reception) Why am I always being singled out?? Frank started it! Frank (Interior Design) Did I not professionally conduct myself? Geez Connie, I'm not the one sending nudes to our Boss when clearly, he has a girlfriend. Wait. Oops? (Sorry Connie 🤡) Bill (Civil) Frank! What do I have to do to get you to behave for once? Frank (Interior Design) Oh, I could think of a few ways... Why don't you come and find out once you're done handling your bratwurst out there? Sarah (HR) I don't get paid enough for this shit.
"Thank you, everyone, for coming together at such short notice. While I'm aware this all-hands meeting was abrupt, recent events in the past few days have made it essential. Tess and I genuinely appreciate your presence as we address these important matters," Sarah says with a bright smile, handing out materials. "Here's an updated Employee Handbook with a few edits. I thought it would be beneficial for us to go through it together. Are there any questions before we begin?"
"Yeah!" Tommy exclaims from the back of the room, his feet casually resting against the edge of the table. "How long until we get to the part of this meeting where we discuss just how much of a bad boy your Daddy was the other day?"
Tommy Look, I love my brother, I do. He's always so serious, so noble, providing for everyone and all that, making sure we have a roof over our heads. Shit, he's gotten me out of a lot of binds in my life- [He looks a bit uncomfortable and clears his throat, nodding.] ... anyway, it's a rare thing to see my brother slip up like that, you know? Didn't think he had it in him, honestly. It's been a few decades since I've seen his twig and berries, but shit, I know he's packing! He's a Miller, for fucks sake!  [he puffs his chest out a little at that, chuckling to himself] But Sugar? She's been a fucking godsend! Never in my life have I seen my big ol brother act a fool, especially over a woman! What can I say? It's great to not be the fuck-up brother for once! I'm gonna milk out SlackGate til the end of time!
"Tommy," Joel warns through his teeth, glaring at his brother. "Cut it out."
Sarah rolls her eyes in response as she fiddles with her laptop, the projector behind her illuminating with her PowerPoint presentation. "Like I was saying, this presentation is just going to go over the changes we have implemented in the last few days, including proper Slack etiquette and conduct. You would think that as grown adults, we would know better than sending inappropriate images and messages through company property and time," she clears her throat, glancing over at Joel, then to Tommy, who winks in her direction knowingly. "...including those who decide to engage and participate in unsanctioned secret channels-"
Frank's hand suddenly shoots up, his face awash in mock outrage. "I'll have you know, the watercooler channel serves a purpose, folks! When I caught wind of this 'secret channel' gossip circulating among the Nosy Nancies in the breakroom, I was appalled! Who would dare to stoop so low—"
"Frank, you invited me to the chat just this morning," Jesse remarks, casually holding up his phone as evidence. "It's titled 'Frank's-secret-slack-chat.' I thought it was some kind of exclusive club or something."
Frank Hi, [waves to you] is this on? Yeah? Hi. I'm Frank.   Listen, Sarah was getting a little too vigilant about monitoring Slack ever since Tommy sent us a little treat last year [he laughs] so I had to do something about it, you know? [It pans out to Frank leaning against his desk chair, typing away on his secret Slack Chat.] The chat started as an open forum for discussion on the everyday going-ons of Miller Construction Group. Do we just so happen to discuss the private lives of our peers? Maybe. Do we mean any harm by it?  [He gives you a wicked smile] Maybe.
"You guys, you know, the longer I keep getting interrupted, the longer we're all going to stay here in this conference room, and the longer we have to wait to eat Bill's food. You know how he is," She looks outside of the window, the smoke from Bill's grill swirls like a plume as he flips over a juicy steak. "He hates it when he has to serve his food cold. As I was saying, it should be obvious that we shouldn't be sending inappropriate images or photos to one another through Slack or e-mail."
"Hey! It was just one time, and it was an accident!" Tommy retorts, "Besides, it was hardly inappropriate, I was just only trying to show Maria this weird rash I got-"
"What does that mean, anyway?" Connie cuts in, casting a glance your way. "Inappropriate photos? And is there a difference between accidentally sending them or doing it on purpose?"
"Yeah," you shoot her a pointed look. "Sending nude photos to someone who doesn't want them is actually considered sexual harassment," you say, raising your voice a bit and turning in your seat. "I mean, you could get arrested for that, Connie," you add with a sing-song tone, a smirk playing on your lips as you glance at her. "You have nothing to worry about though, right?" you challenge, rolling your chair towards Joel, and taking his hand in his. "Not unless you did send naked photos to my boyfriend?"
Connie Look, I didn't know that Mr. Miller and Sugar were boning. I know how this looks- like I don't believe in girl code or something. I am a girls girl! If Sugar was just forthcoming about who gave her those damn hickeys before SlackGate happened, I wouldn't have sent her boyfriend nude photos of myself! A girl's gotta try, you know? I was only trying to shoot my shot! [She looks a bit uncomfortable, picking at a hangnail.] ... but you have to admit, Mr. Miller is H-O-T hot. God. I love me a graying man in flannel. I always thought to myself, there must be a story here. How does a millionaire who looks like that be single all this time? does he have anyone? is it a sugar baby? does he have a secret love child? I mean-  [she looks over her shoulder where Joel is, arms around his chest as he winks at Sugar. There's a hint of jealousy in Connie's eyes.] Is it true, though? Is it really sexual harassment if I send unsolicited photos of myself? Do you think he's gonna press charges? 
"It's true. Sending unsolicited photos of yourself to unsuspecting parties is sexual harassment, Connie. Not to mention creepy," Sarah winces, shooting you an apologetic smile. "So please don't be sending any photos of that nature to anyone that you work with, especially not in the admin group Slack."
"Yeah, Joel!" Tommy chides. "Keep that shlong in your pants, brother!"
Sarah You would think that working for my family is a cakewalk? Please. I've been diagnosed with IBS and GAD since I started working here five years ago. I sometimes take half an edible just to make it to lunchtime.   [Her head rests on her desk, and as the events of SlackGate unfold, an endless barrage of messages from the admin Slack channel floods her monitor. She can't help but groan in response.] Listen. I love my Dad. I've never really had to worry about his behavior at work before, not like how I have to with Uncle Tommy... but what the hell was he thinking? I can't unsee that! What if Ellie was on that chat? Could you imagine the trauma? My trauma?
"Okay, let's turn to page 12, where we'll go over all the recent updates," Sarah announces, clicking through her PowerPoint. A collective gasp echoes in the room as the slide projects onto the screen, revealing an image – the image of Joel. However, where his exposed package would be, an eggplant emoji tastefully takes its place. It resembles one of those generic memes easily made with a phone app, complete with the semi-imposed words 'Keep Calm and Shlong On!' in big bold letters.
"Shit!" she exclaims, hurriedly pressing the ESC button as she tries to close out her PowerPoint. She slams her laptop shut, the tell-tell sound of a crack echoing throughout the conference room. You hear Tess silently scoff in the distance, and Sarah closes her eyes in embarrassment as the room falls silent.
... and then, all hell breaks loose.  
Tommy is beside himself, his face red, and his eyes filled with tears as he doubles over in laughter, clutching at his middle. "Shit, Henry! When I asked you to do this, I honestly didn't think you had the balls to go through with it, but I so owe you, my man!" he exclaims, enthusiastically high-fiving his nephew-in-law. "This is the best fucking day of my life!"
"Henry?!" Sarah exclaims, her face flushed with rage. "This is what you needed to do in the office at 6 am this morning?!"
Henry's expression crumbles as he witnesses his wife's ire, suddenly realizing that he's just dug himself into a deep hole. "Sarah," he stammers, attempting to regain composure. "This isn't what it looks like—"
Henry Yeah, Tommy asked me to put that meme into Sarah's PowerPoint last night. I would have done it at home, but Sarah doesn't like to bring her laptop home, you know, work-life balance? So I had to make an excuse to come to the office this morning. Was it a dumb ass idea? Yeah, probably. Did I kind of want to get back at Sarah's dad for making my life a living hell? [He looks at you awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.] Honestly, when you're like five beers in, drinking with Tommy- everything seems like a good idea. He dared me, you know? Said that I'm such a simp, trying to always please Joel. Called me a fucking pussy and everything! What else was I supposed to do? Sarah's going to kill me, huh? Do you think that she's gonna ask for a divorce?
"It's a meme. A meme of my Dad's dick pic with AN EGGPLANT EMOJI?!?! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME??! WHAT DID YOU MEAN FOR IT TO LOOK LIKE?!" she screams, pulling at her hair. "AND YOU, TOMMY MILLER!" she points at her uncle furiously, "WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK??!"
"Baby," Henry replies, his hands raised in an attempt to calm her down. "It's just a harmless prank, look—"
"No, you look, Henry! Does it seem like it's just a harmless prank?" she gestures to the room, her eyes wide. "Don't even think about coming to bed tonight. I can't even look at you! How dare you collaborate with Tommy, do you really want to go this way? Because I see you fucking around, and you're about to find out-"
"Oh come on, Sarah! you know these all-hands meetings are dull as fuck, I don't even know why you even bother, no one ever listens anyway!" Tommy exclaims, looking around the room. "Isn't this fun you guys? Come on, lighten up! It's not like y'all haven't seen my dick before! Your Papi's gonna live another day, I think we should all feel as comfortable as we want, fuck the rules!"
"...but Joel's is much bigger than yours!" someone yells amid the chaos, laughter, and banter echoing through the room. Sarah looks around helplessly in a panic, trying to grasp the situation unfolding.
"Hey! I'll have you know that I ain't small!" Tommy yells in retaliation.
"Do you think that this is helping, Uncle Tommy? I'm beginning to believe that the only reason why people don't take me seriously is because of all of the shit that you pull!" Sarah groans, looking like she's at the end of her rope. "I could mention that Tess is helping me facilitate this meeting to scare everyone but she's just off to the side, pretending to not be drinking under the table!"  
Tess [She is sitting off to the side, smiling to herself as the chaos ensues, shaking her head.] I am drinking, because who else thinks it's appropriate to call an all-hands meeting first thing in the morning? I don't even want to be here. It's so fucking pointless, trying to get these shitheads to conform to a set of rules.   [She witnesses Joel storming up to Tommy, his face full of rage and irritation, finger pointed right at him.] This is the consequence of hiring friends and family, isn't it? I tried to tell them it was a bad idea, but who's listening to me? I get it, everyone thinks I'm a bit of a bitch, and well... yeah, I am. Alright, time to rein this in— [She suddenly stands from her seat and walks over to Sarah, who appears to be disassociating into madness.]
"HEY!" Tess bellows, clapping her hands together. The room abruptly falls silent, Joel's hands frozen mid-grab on Tommy's flannel. Forty-eight pairs of eyes pivot towards Tess, a blend of shock and embarrassment spreading across their faces, reminiscent of children caught sneaking cookies from the jar by their mother. "Okay, that's enough!"
Her eyes are narrowed, hands on her hips. "This is what's going to happen. You're going to stop sending each other dick and tit pics through Slack, because as much as it is amusing," she smirks, winking at you, "I would really rather not have to deal with the fallout that comes with it," she shoots a pointed look at Connie, whose eyebrows shoot up to her hairline.  
"The next time someone tries to fuck around and find out? I'm going to take that dirty photo, print a thousand fucking copies of it and stick that shit all over the office. Every fucking inch, every fucking nook and cranny is just gonna be dick and tit central," she paces around the room, placing a warning hand on Frank's shoulder. "As for this secret Slack chat, I'm going to give you all one chance to come clean. If you don't, and Sugar's report doesn't match who outs themselves right now," She scans the room, a smirk on the corner of her mouth appearing in satisfaction. "Yeah, you didn't think that we were monitoring that shit, huh? Well, I'll throw you all a bone: raise your hands if you are in this secret group chat, and I'll consider not docking your pay for insubordination. Your choice."
Frank [Looking at Tess as she slightly stumbles from where she's standing.] Yeah, she's toast.
The majority of the room begins to raise their hands, except you, Tess, Joel, and surprisingly, Frank.
Tess scoffs. "Really Frank? Really?"
"I have no clue what you're trying to imply, and seriously Tess? Are you really going to play that card? Are you going to dock your pay too?" Frank retorts. "I mean, just last night, you were drunkenly telling me that you heard Joel and Sugar-"
"If you utter another word, I'll fire you on the spot, Frank!" Joel shouts from across the room. "I mean it this time!"
Joel and Sugar [Joel wraps his arm around your waist, leaning in to kiss your forehead while gently pushing a strand of hair behind your ears.] There, that's better. Don't hide your face, Mami; you're too beautiful to be hiding all of that, okay? Right, [he clears his throat.] You would think that people would be a little more professional around here, show me a bit of respect— [His gaze shifts to Tommy, who's engaged in laughter and banter with the team, his chest puffed out in triumph. Joel glares at him, shaking his head.] I'd like to think I try really hard to be a good boss. I pay fairly, I allow remote work, and damn it, I take pride in offering the best employee benefits in all of Austin. We even take a company trip to Hawaii every year, for fucks sake! [You squeeze his hand, pressing a kiss to his temple as he takes a frustrated breath.] Papi, if it means anything, I think you're the best boss any of these folks could ever ask for. They don't deserve you. [Joel nods.] Look, I don't know what to tell you. I got the ride of my life that morning, my sweet Mami riding my cock just right, you know? I would have been okay, going into my meeting with blue balls, just as long as Sugar got hers. Your pleasure is my pleasure... but I was just so fucking horny! I started to work out, yeah? Wanted to keep shit tight for my baby, and fuck, I was... what do they young kids say?   Feeling yourself? [Joel nods again, smiling at you.] Yeah, 'feeling myself' or whatever. Anyway, I was in the meeting, and you messaged me, right? saying that you weren't going to be in for lunch? and I don't know if was the disappointment, or if I was just too horny, but fuck. I quickly excused myself and took a quick dick pic in my bathroom. I thought I was in the right Slack channel... so I sent it, and then the guys at The H Group asked me a whole bunch of questions, and then an hour later- Chaos. The messages kept flooding in! Frank was asking about how long I was, and Connie was sending me nude photos of herself- in my fucking office! Wait, what? [Your gaze meets Connie's, nervously seated as Frank goes on and on beside her. Her hands twitch like a possum that just got run over by an 18-wheeler. Yeah. Squirm for me, you think to yourself.] Yeah! And I just sat there, in shock, you know? Like this is the kind of shit that Tommy pulls, and I couldn't believe that I was so fucking stupid! Can you imagine the kind of therapy Sarah's gonna need? What if Ellie saw this?
"Who's up for some snacks?" Tommy calls out to the team, holding a basket filled with rather sizable cucumbers, bananas, and eggplants. "Help yourselves, compliments of Joel!"
Ellie  [at the job site across town, hard hat fixed crookedly on top of her head.] Yeah, I saw it. There is not enough bleach in this world that could ever erase that image from my existence.   [she glares at Sam, who just shrugs.] Thanks a lot, asshole!
"Alright, you degenerates!" Bill booms, bursting through the conference doors wearing a 'Kiss the Cook' apron, tongs in one hand, and a tray piled high with thickly cut steaks in the other. "This steak isn't going to eat itself!" 
The team swarms Bill like seagulls spotting a tasty piece of bread on the boardwalk. Tommy grabs a t-bone with his bare hands, biting into it with the enthusiasm of a caveman.
"Hey," Joel whispers to you, his shoulder gently bumping yours. "Want to help me with something?" You nod eagerly as Joel swiftly guides you out of the conference room, heading towards the executive offices. You giggle as Joel ushers you into the room, pulling you into a kiss, his foot playfully kicking the door shut.
He moves the both of you over to where Tommy's desk is, pushing aside its contents off the tabletop in one fell swoop, the items clattering onto the floor. "Papi, what are you doing?" you ask cheekily as he bends you over the desk, lifting your skirt.  
Joel growls and shoves you down onto the desk, his hands harshly grabbing onto your hips. Your arms scramble to find purchase as you knock over a framed photo of Tommy and Maria, watching helplessly as the image of their smiling faces falls onto the floor. His palm travels across your back, pinning you in place as he fiddles with his zipper with his other hand. "Line item 6," Joel murmurs as his hands begin to travel across the globes of your ass, squeezing and spreading and slapping them until you're so wet you can feel it dripping down your thighs.  
Joel hums in appreciation. "Thats right Mami, get nice and wet for me, okay?" You can feel him pump his cock against you, notching his head at your entrance. "You gonna make a nice mess for me, baby?" he asks through gritted teeth as he strokes through your folds with his dick.
"Yesss," you moan, pushing your ass back toward him.  
Joel pushes into you to the hilt in one brutal thrust as you cry out, grabbing onto the edge of the desk as he begins to pound into you in earnest, his thrusts so hard and punishing that the desk begins to rattle. You squeeze your eyes shut as Joel gathers your hair in his hand, pulling you back towards him. "Fuck baby, I'm gonna come so fucking hard, fill this pussy up and watch as it drips out of you, maybe fuck you again if we still have time-"
You gasp, taking a deep breath as his thrusts become so erratic it pushes you up the desk, lifting one leg onto the surface as Joel angles himself higher, hitting a spot so deep within you that you bite your lip from crying out, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention. You squeeze around his cock as you chase your high, hoping that Joel can maintain his composure long enough so you both can finish together. "No Mami, stay with me, come with me-"
He leans over you, pressing you onto the desk as he grabs onto your shoulders, pounding into you, his breath hot against your neck as he buries his face into it, huffing from exertion. "I'm so close Mami, I'm gonna... Fuck!" He bites your shoulder as he cums in one last brutal stroke, his hands harshly grasping your thighs as you feel his hot spend flow deep into your belly. You rock your hips onto him as his hand goes to your clit, rubbing until you are weak in the knees, your body trembling beneath his. "Fuck Joel," you say a little breathless as you slump onto the table as Joel pulls out of you, his finger probing into you as he pushes his leaking cum back where it belongs. "Come on, lets clean this up and head back before they notice-"
Joel just snorts as he zips up his jeans. "No," he replies nonchalantly as he catches his breath. 
"No?" you ask as you straighten yourself up, frowning at him.  
"Line item six says I bend you over his desk and leave a little souvenir," he motions to the mess on the floor, pens and papers scattered about.  
"He's going to fucking murder you, Joel," you chuckle, pulling him into a kiss.  
"Yeah? Well, he shouldn't have fucked around, because he's about to find out." He simply replies, taking your hand in his. "Come on, little Mami, quickly now, before he realizes we're gone..."
You share a laugh as he guides you back into the conference room. Bill raises an eyebrow at both of you, handing over a plate with steaming steak, as if he just finished cooking it. "I thought I'd save your lunches for last, figured you guys needed some extra time," he says, clearing his throat and nodding towards Tommy, who seems entirely oblivious to your brief disappearance. "You know Tommy, can't resist a good piece of steak," Bill continues, gesturing at Joel. "It's like everything around him disappears for a moment; you could rob him blind, and he wouldn't even notice," he adds with a small smile, placing a hand on Joel's shoulder and giving him a knowing look. "Enjoy your lunch, you two."
Bill Look, I wouldn't call myself a nosy person, but I am perceptive.   [He glances at Frank whispering and giggling to Connie off to the side, rolling his eyes.] Look at them. They think that they're the eyes and ears of this operation, but what they don't know, is that I. Know. Everything. I am a survivalist. I gather intel on all of my surroundings, even if I am surrounded by absolute morons.   [Bill takes another sip of coffee, subtly glancing around him before making eye contact with you, the reader, once more] So if you want to know the real scoop, the real ins-and-outs of this company, and not have to deal with the lunatics in Frank's not-so-secret shit talk club, come to me, I'll set you on the right path. At least I have snacks.   [He looks off to you and Joel, giving a curt nod as he starts to cut into his own steak.] As much as I respect Tommy, he's not the one signing my checks at the end of the day. If there's anything that I value more than anything, it's loyalty. I don't like to play around, hate it when people bite the hands that feed them. People like that need to be taught a lesson. Joel's a good man, and sometimes, we fuck up... but it's how we handle ourselves after the fact that matters. If that means I help out an old friend, well- [he smiles as Tommy walks towards the conference room doors, heading back to his office. Bill smiles out into the distance.]
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𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝑴𝒚 𝑳𝒂𝒅𝒚 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝟐
(𝑺𝒆𝒃𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒂𝒏 𝑴𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒔 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)
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⚠️MDNI. 18+ ADULTS ONLY⚠️
🎀Age in bio or blocked🎀
Rating: Mature
Category: F/M
Fandom: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Relationship: Sebastian Michaelis/CielsCousin!Reader
Characters: Sebastian Michaelis; Reader; Ciel Phantomhive; Elizabeth Midford
Summary: After spending the day with your cousin and his fiance, the night air makes for pleasant company, as does the butler who reveals a dark secret...
Additional Tags: Fluff and Smut; Eventual Smut; Neck Kissing; Kissing; Gentle Kissing; Surprise Kissing; Making Out; Implied Sexual Content; Phantomhive manor; Reader-Insert; Victorian
A/N: not beta read. We die like men. Again.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
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𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 2: 𝕿𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝕭𝖚𝖙𝖑𝖊𝖗; 𝕴𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕹𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙
The day passed without much incident. A wall seemed to have broken down, between you and the butler after your morning rendezvous. Throughout the day, he looked after both your needs and his young master’s as well. You had spent some time with your cousin today as he hadn’t had too much on his schedule like he usually did. Breakfast, luncheon and supper were all had with the boy who kept your mind occupied with discussions on business and society. And Sebastian served you while also making sure to linger longer than necessary by your side, whether it was him pouring wine into your glass, or brushing against you while bringing you your plate. Surreptitious movements that luckily went unnoticed by your young cousin.
Lady Elizabeth joined the two of you for supper. Though she was from your side of the family you had never met the child personally. The girl had a lot of energy. She loved dressing up as was evident from her clothing. You had heard of her mother being a fearsome lady, one who could fight a tiger barehanded and win, but the daughter carried no such resemblance. 
“ –And then, Mother let me make two more dresses to match with the jewellery she bought me!” You had missed the initial conversation but gleaned from the few lines that she had an affinity for fashion and clothing. It was not unlike a lady of her stature. 
“Oh when I was your age, I loved getting new dresses made!” You smiled at her. “After I fell sick the first time, however, I started to dislike it a bit.” It was true. You used to have dresses made by the dozen. The seamstress saw your home more than her own shop! But your repeated illnesses have changed this. Every measurement taken anew showed how your body had changed. Warped into the form of the disease. And standing for the tape was exhausting. You found comfort in the clothing you already owned and preferred to have less made. 
Elizabeth frowned. “Perhaps, Lady Phantomhive, you can come with me and we can have the tailor take your measurements too for a gown. I’m sure your mama and papa wouldn’t mind!” You blushed and shook your head. Perhaps your parents wouldn’t and even if you did have the energy to stand tomorrow, you would have to cover up the innumerable marks Sebastian left on you from your morning's tryst. 
You laughed a nervous chuckle and replied, “Perhaps for the next season, I seem to have plenty of splendid dresses in my armada for the moment…” 
Ciel retired to bed, soon after Elizabeth left to go back home. You sometimes forgot he was only 12 – his mannerisms far beyond his age.  You walked out to the balcony. The garden was painted silver in the moonlight. Despite being quite clumsy, Finnian did a good job of maintaining it you thought to yourself. 
“After all I did today to make sure you didn’t catch a cold, my lady, here you are inviting it yourself.” Sebastian’s voice came from behind, startling you. You turned your head to look as he emerged from the shadows draping a warm cloak over your shoulders. “Would you like to go for a walk my lady?” he asked. Once again, you thought you saw a flash of red in his eyes, but it was gone as soon as you took another glance. You nodded at him. 
Sebastian took your hand and in one swift cat-like movement you found yourself in his arms flying through the air. You clung to his shoulders the night air whipping through your hair and biting at your cheeks. “Sebastian! Where are we going!” But the whistling of the wind drowned out your words. 
When he finally landed, you looked around you, the garden was far, This was a denser shrubbery, almost like the maze Finnian so religiously took care to grow. “Should you be so far from the manor?” You asked him breathless, even though all you had done was be carried from one place to another. “Ciel might call for you or something.”
He shook his head. “You needn’t worry about that, my lady. The young master doesn’t wake till morning – when I wake him and I’m sure the manor will be fine without me for a bit.” 
He smiles, reassuring you, and takes your hand, clasping it in his gloved ones. You begin to walk alongside him, his stride is shorter, making sure you can keep up, even in your bedroom slippers. Soon you come across a gazebo. The butler then invites you to sit and takes a seat beside you. “I do hope this isn’t too forward of me, my lady but I wish to continue where we had left off this morning.” You blush and avoid his gaze. You know that society would never approve of the relationship the two of you had. If anyone ever found out, it would bring shame to you and your family. You would be looked down upon for the longest time. “My lady?” Sebastian inquires after not hearing anything from you.
“Sebastian…” you start. But you don’t know how to form what you are feeling. “I- I-” you stutter. Then sigh. He puts his hand on your cheek and makes you look at him.
“My lady, if you want this to stop—” he begins but is cut off when you place your hand over his mouth.
“Believe me that is not what I want.” You say to him. “You are different Sebastian. I don’t get what you want. Your feelings are not of love. They aren’t for my money. And I feel you lust after me but that doesn’t come out too clearly either. I suppose, in a way, I am confused.” You get up, take a few steps forward and turn to look at him. “I have had men who have come to me for all the things I mentioned before. I have had those who might have actually loved me, those who merely wanted me as another trophy to claim, and even those who have come only to try and gain my hand in marriage but in reality who want to marry my father’s wealth. But you Sebastian, something about you is so different. I suppose it may be because you are the first man I have felt attracted to.” Your following chuckle is hesitant. “I am—afraid of you.”
Sebastian smirks. “Your way of seeing things is so intriguing my lady.” He says. “I can assure you my lady that I am not here for your money. I have no need for the material things that humans treasure so much.” He spits. “As for lusting after you; you have deduced almost correctly, but what I feel for you is more...” You don’t know when he got up, but turning to look you find Sebastian flush against your back. His eyes are red, the same red you tried to convince yourself you hadn't seen, but it was unmistakable. Your eyes widen and you try to take a step back, away from his imposing figure, only to find yourself trapped between him and the gazebo. 
 “You see my lady,” he continues, nose nuzzling against your neck, “Demons and humans have very little in common, but there is one thing we do share; the feeling of lust is very strong in us both. Humans can feel love. All demons can feel though; is lust. But you, you make me feel something different from just lust. Something more—burning. Is it love? I don’t know... I’ve never known that feeling.”
You don’t know what to say anymore. You should be frozen in fear, What did Sebastian mean, saying he was a demon? A murderer? Or a biblical fantasy? His lips were now on your skin, inhaling your scent, and you felt a pool of warmth in your lower belly. “D- demon? What does that even mean?” you falter.
 “What I mean, my lady, is that the only reason I am here is because of a contract I have made with your dear young cousin. You should thank him for our very meeting.” He tells you.
“You mean you’re a demon. Like – from legends and stories?”
“I can assure you. I am no story” he says, planting a searing kiss on your neck. That was all it took to set you on fire. It made sense. The inhuman capabilities. The absolute perfection of his being. He was a demon! “You aren’t running from me my lady?” he asked as you melted under his touch.
“Surely, you jest Sebastian!” You say. Your voice quavers but you stand your ground.
“About what my lady?”
“About this demon nonsense!”
“I never lie to my lady.” He says. “You said yourself, there is something you find different about me.” He kisses you. “I am simply a demon, and a butler.”
***
Since you were tired from being out for so long, Sebastian swiftly carried you back to the mansion and took you to your room where there was a cup of hot chamomile tea waiting for you. He really took everything into account. There is no doubt about it in your mind now. Sebastian had to be a demon. His speed is inhuman. His eyes are reptilian, gleaming in the darkness. And then those teeth that scraped against your neck. Whatever he is, he definitely isn’t human.
As he helps you get ready for bed you realised that you didn’t mind. Sebastian may not have been a human, and he may have been a butler, but the way he made you feel surpassed all of that. “Sebastian…” You turn to him as he undresses you. You take off his coat. “I don’t care what you are.” You take off his vest. His eyes widen, and he stares at you. He can smell your arousal. Here you are half naked before him, taking off his clothes. Telling him you don’t care what he is. You want him. You feel things for him. Your scent drives him wild and he doesn’t even register you undoing his necktie and then his shirt buttons. When you try to take his shirt off and he doesn’t move to allow you to slip it off him, you suddenly think that perhaps he doesn’t want this. “I’m so sorry!” You say. “I thought you wanted this.” Sebastian finally wakes from his stupor and looks at you.
“I do want this. I just can’t believe that someone as beautiful and lovely as you truly wants something as vile and cruel as me.” He says and softly kisses your head. Then without warning he pushes you onto the bed and says, “But, my lady, who gave you the permission to take my clothes off?” He growls. The change in demeanour startles you. 
“Sebas—” you start, but he does not let you finish. In a moment, his lips are upon yours. He swiftly and rips off your underclothes, while still kissing your mouth. His hands glide along the curves of your body and he holds you closer while plunging his tongue into your mouth. 
He has never tasted anything like you before. He cannot fathom how in all the years he has lived he has never tasted anything like you. “I guess it’s something Phantomhives have in common eh? A taste like no other. I could feast on you all day.” He mutters half to himself.
“What–?” you ask breathlessly.
“You taste, sinful.”
He winks at you and pulls his glove off his left hand with his sharp teeth. His nails are black and on the back of his hand is a pentagram inside two circles. The outer, made of pointy diamond shapes. “My contract seal— nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about, my lady.” he says, seeing you looking at it. 
Sebastian trails his hand down your stomach. His black tipped fingers enter your folds which are already moist with your arousal. Lowering his head, he nibbles on your neck. You breathe in deeply and wish he would take off his clothes to allow you to see him but he had made it pretty clear who was in charge of the taking off of the clothing. His hand playing around with you down under barely ghosted over your skin. You involuntarily bucked your hips trying to get him to touch you. The move immediately made the demon smirk and say, “Look at you, so eager to be fucked.”
You feel your cheeks heat much like your core. His words are so unexpectedly crude. “Please,” you moan, “please touch me…”
To be continued…
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A/N: hahah don't hurt me. Likes and reblogs are appreciated. Comments get you kissies.
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Masterlist
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lovewheeler · 2 years
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brothers best friend mike who watches you from the window in the kitchen as you sunbathe <333 your brothers in the living room playing video games n mike made n exuse to get some water but rlly its just so he can stare at you and grind his dick against the cabinet in front of him like a perv <3333
a/n: bro do you want me to DIEEEE oh my god,,,for reference reader's brother is not one of the canon boys bc i am BROWN hello. also mike is AGED UP!!! HE IS 19!!!!
content warnings: honetly pretty tame but like mike is a perv so ,,, also reader is teasing him bc she knows n she thinks it's funny <3, brat!reader...thats it i think. mike's a fucking nerd. this got so long sorry. pt 2 perhaps? also I didn’t beta this I die like men. also pov switches around a lot sorry
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“He’s in the living room, you know.” There’s a lilt in your tone when you walk into the kitchen, passing Mike where he stands at the fridge. You notice his hand freeze mid wrapping around a soda can and your lip curls up at the corner.
“Uh, yeah, i’m just – you know, soda,” He grabs it quickly, showing it to you as if you needed proof, “See?”
“Mm, yeah, Mikey, I’m not blind–” You smile, manicured fingers reaching for the soda to snatch it from him and giggling when he frowns, “You staying for dinner tonight?”
The brunette nods quickly, swallowing, “Yeah – the guys are, too –” God forbid you think he was staying so he could look at you more (he was), “We — we want to finish our campaign. You can come, if you want–”
“Maybe next time? M’trying to tan today–” You cut him off, already moving towards the back door; you watch his eyes scan down your body when he thinks you’re not looking, fighting the smirk that pulls at your lips. You can sense his nerves, see how his hands shake, and it makes you excited. Hungry, almost. 
You sway your hips while you walk out the door, tiny shorts that you’d picked for this exact situation hugging your ass just right, tits bouncing when you put a bit of pep in your walk; it’s very obvious what you’re doing, even to someone as stupidly oblivious as Mike Wheeler. 
The second you disappear behind the screen door Mike’s letting out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, gripping the counter with white knuckles and practically collapsing against it. 
Why did you keep doing this to him?
He was so sick of it, so fucking sick – every day since summer started you’d go out to tan by your pool in the tiniest bikini (how many of those could you even own, by the way?) and the most sinful shorts, thighs squeezing out around the bottom and tits practically spilling from your top. 
And then you do this stupid fucking thing – you’re doing it now, actually, he realizes it when he looks through the big window above the sink – where you shimmy out of your shorts only to reveal probably the most revealing piece of cloth he’s ever seen in his life. And you know he’s watching, and he knows that you know, because you always bend over to fish the shorts off the ground when they pool around your ankles, always in front of the window. Every. Fucking. Time.
Your brother would fucking kill him if he knew that Mike was eyeing his sister like a goddamn perv, watching her tan by the pool and popping a fucking boner while he’s at it. 
Can’t you see he’s trying to be a good friend here?
Of course you can – you’re just a fucking minx who thinks it’s fun to tease him. He notices, he’s not stupid; he sees how you arch your back up from the chair as if you’re stretching, how you make sure he’s in view of the window while you lather sunscreen on your thighs. He wants to bash his head against the marble countertop.
Mike’s only brought out of his own thoughts when he realizes you’re looking at him – really looking at him, not coy glances like you usually do when you’re out there. This one’s bolder. More loaded.
His breath hitches in his throat when he sees you bring a pretty hand up to wiggle your ringed fingers at him in a cute little wave. There’s a smirk on your face. He leans forward, feeling his cock brush the counter and almost gasping. It felt good. 
You think it’s cute how stupid he must think you are. Or maybe he doesn’t and he gets off on being known. Whatever it is, it makes you feel hot all over, like you’re doing something bad. You’re just glad he’s finally caught on to years of pining.
You’ve often wondered how bold you could get before he finally decided to fucking do something; he was driving you crazy, always trying to act so self righteous as if your brother wouldn’t fuck Nancy giving the chance. You were a spoiled brat, Mike knew that, he indulged you in it in every other way – so why not this one?
Your eyes survey the area around you, flicking around behind dark pink shades to make sure no one else but your intended audience is seeing. Once you’re satisfied you let out a little sigh, wiggling your painted toes and stretching out your arms, making a show of it all as your hands snake up to tug at your bikini top. It falls into your lap and you smile, not at him but for him. 
Mike can’t believe what he’s seeing, and he thinks he should definitely feel embarrassed about how shamelessly he’s grinding into his own hand right now. He does, but the bliss he feels while looking at your tits outweighs it. He wants to bite them. His mind is swirling and he feels dizzy but he’s chasing something, all to fantasies about those tits spilling between his fingers while he fucks into you.
And then you stretch again, arms up to the sky, before you turn around and lay yourself down on your tummy – right at the time Mike feels his boxers get sticky. He groans inwardly, collapsing against the counter again with a heaving chest. He just came in his pants to the sight of his best friend’s little sister’s tits. That was fucking humiliating.
He doesn’t even have time to consider what the fuck just happened because your brother’s hand is coming up to clap against his back, making him jump and let out a yell.
“Dude, you good? Look like you just ran a marathon or some shit – hurry up, will you? We’re starting a new game.”
“U-uh yeah, I’ll be right there, I just gotta–”
“I’m making him help me with my homework. He said he took my bio class before and can help me with it – right, Mikey?” His blood runs cold and his face gets hot when he hears your voice, devastatingly sweet. How the hell did you get in here so fast? He tries not to frown when he notices you’re clothed again.
He only nods, unable to get anything out other than a stammering confirmation. How cute.
Your brother only groans and tells you guys to hurry up but doesn’t think anything of it – why would he? Mike had known you since you guys were in diapers – he was harmless. Supposedly. He turns to walk back to the living room and Mike sighs, all the tension visibly leaving his body.
Only to come back again when you saunter next to him, leaning over him to grab something from the sink and letting your tits squish into his back in the process. He feels light headed.
“I’ll be waiting for you – don’t clean up, by the way. Kay?” 
He gasps and you can only giggle, suddenly pulling off of him and turning so you can skip off to your room. You knew. 
“Thanks, Mikey!” You call behind you, and he watches your hips sway while you go. He realizes you had only been out there for five minutes max, not a shade darker. You’d planned this.
Little shit.
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here-but-forgotten · 5 months
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takin' my time
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alejandro vargas x f!reader
kitchen sex / rough sex / domestic / light spanking / light sub-dom undertones / aftercare / no beta we die like men / 3.5k words / archive of our own link
“What have you decided to bake today?” The question floats in the air for as moment, your focus on folding the batter on the sides of the bowl back into the rest of the batter. The kitchen is cool, allowing for the oven to not turn the area into a furnace, footsteps approaching as the sun shines in through the sheer curtains.
“Chocolate bake,” You finally respond, warm hands coming to rest on your hips, the warmth seeping from his hands to your skin, his chest pressed up against your back. Alejandro hums, his cheek resting on the top of your head, becoming an audience for you as your focus returns to the batter; pouring into the pan while his hands creep to your stomach, resting there. His warmth enveloping you as you continue your focus, a softness draping the two of you. The air is never awkward or thick when it’s like this, when it’s a calm day filled with little tasks where the worst that happens is a mild inconvenience. Alejandro shifts behind you, kissing the crown of your head.
“Can I put this in the oven or are you going to keep me caged here?” You smile at his attention, kisses pressed against your forehead to your temple, trailing the side of your face to your ear; teeth catching the skin gentler than anticipated, hips pressing back against his as you arch your back. The scratch of his beard leaves tingles in its wake.
“I’d like to keep you still somehow, but maybe not like that,” Alejandro teases lowly, moving back to allow you to put the pan in the oven. His eyes never leaving your form— the shiver running down your back reminding you of such, with his heat gone from your body.
“I think I remember a certain way you’ve kept me still before.” You move away from the oven, setting the timer as the air behind you shifts a bit, your attention back to your baking as you gather your utensils into the batter bowl.
His hands return to your hips as you set the bowl beside the sink, his hips firmly pressing against your own,
“Alejan-”
“Nuh uh,” His hand grips your jaw, turning your head to look back and up at him, the crown of your head resting against his chest, “How did I keep you still before, hm?”
A flush rushes through your body, from your chest to your face and back down again; Alejandro’s grip firm but not tight, keeping your eyes locked on his. Your stomach twists in a heat, seeping to your groin and thighs. His gaze is firm, authoritative, yet only a whisper of what he exudes when he is working.
“You held me down,” You whisper.
“And how did I do that?” Alejandro asks, his voice quiet but not small.
Your face is hit with another wave of flush, trailing down to your breasts; the vulnerability of recounting what has happened would be humiliating if it wasn’t him.
“You pinned my hands down,”
“Mhmm.”
“And held my hair.”
His eyes look over your face, moving from your eyes to your lips, his other hand moving to your belly to push your hips flush against his; his hard-on pressing against your lower back as a stillness settles in the kitchen. The hand on your stomach trailing up in a line of heat, groping one of your breasts roughly through your clothing- a moan escaping your mouth as he locks eyes with you again.
Alejandro’s gaze is intense, a gaze that places a warm weight pressed onto your shoulders, keeping you still with the silent understanding of granted dominance; a dominance that has been gifted to him, and one that he could never claim without your blessing.
“And you got that for being a little whore, didn’t you?”
“Uh huh,” Your voice falls out softer than expected, his hand on your breast running down to your groin- his touch softer and lighter as he cups your mound, continuing to keep you firmly against him.
“You just had to wear a little skirt, didn’t you?” His voice drops into a lower tone, a bit of grit added as his fingers ghost over your panties, warmth rushing through your core to meet him.
“They get less dirty than my pants do,” You try to logically rebuttal, a little smile creeping from your lips to prove yourself wrong. Alejandro quirks an eyebrow at you, both mildly amused and irritated at the attempted reasoning.
“They just so happen to leave a lot out in the open, no?” His hand leaves your jaw to wrap itself around your throat, a weight anchoring you into reality.
“Just a little…”
Alejandro lets out a bemused hum, swiftly moving his hand to the back of your neck, bending you over the counter- his body draping your own as his cock pressed against your ass firmly. His weight pinning you down with no room for discussion, warmth running up your legs to your core, his jeans rubbing against your legs.
“I would beg to differ,” He grovels, his hand at your core gripping the meat of your thigh— a gasp escaping you— with a firmness that would leave marks, “that this is ‘a little’, neña.”
A shaky breath leaves you along with the tension in your body, melting into the counter as his weight pins you there, his hand from your throat joining his other, groping and gripping the meat of your thigh; his chest pinning yours down to the counter, his lips assaulting your neck in teeth-filled kisses, his beard brushing against the marks. Your hips back into his again, warmth spreading from your core to your thighs, his touch making the heat unbearable as it grew. Whines fall out of your mouth before you have a chance to catch them, a growl vibrating through your back as a response.
Alejandro’s hips leave yours, his hands running from your inner thighs to your hips, thumbs pulling your skirt up over the curve of your ass to your waist—
“Hm, these aren’t your normal choice,” He muses as he inspects your panties, his darkened gaze briefly meeting yours over your shoulder.
“What’s different about them?” The tease falls out of your mouth before you have a chance to think about its consequence.
“These are the ones that you beg me to rip off of you, but I’m sure you already knew that.”
His hips press against yours again, now with less fabric in between the two, a moan leaving you as his bulge moves between the folds of your core, the heat in your body becoming too much to bear. Your hips grind back against his— granting you another growl— only for his hands to tighten their grip on your hips.
“If I was less merciful I’d say you planned this, cariño,” Alejandro teases, his voice quipped up with a smile and strained.
“Of course not,” you hum with a smile.
Alejandro only responds in a small hum of acknowledgement, his thumbs gently rubbing your hips in a soothing manner, a softened feeling sinking into your shoulders despite your exposed position. His hands move, from a warm spot on your hips to the waist band of your panties,
“You’ve soaked through these,” His tone is telling, not questioning, running his fingers under the waist band, teasing the skin with his gentle brushing touch.
“Wonder whose fault that is.”
A faux-frustrated sigh leaves him, his grip pulling on the panties for a moment, contemplating your words for a still, eternal moment.
The rough yank pulls you back with a gasp, fabric ripping open and exposing your ass to him, only for him to continue rip after rip to pull apart the panties— leaving you open and exposed for him as the rejected fabric falls to the floor, the only fabric remaining being the waist band.
“Alejandro,” You draw out his name in a whine, his touch suddenly leaving you, the cool touch of metal resting against your hip—
“Shh,” He instructs, the knife cutting the band and letting it fall to the floor, the clink of it resting out of reach on the counter sealing the fate of the damned fabric.
Alejandro’s fingers rub your core, gathering the wet that has accumulated there, rubbing rhythmically, dipping down to circle your clit.
“Gotten this worked up over baking a cake, hm?”
“I don’t think the cake is what did it.”
He lets out a bemused chuckle, softer than his passionate actions, his fingers working your core as you melt into the counter once more; his digits warming your core beyond his previous touches, gently rubbing your clit enough to send waves of warmth through you as your muscles tremble. His middle finger entering you easily, leaving your clit alone as the air hits it, his touch slow and leisurely as he fingers you.
“Please, Alej,” You whimper, looking back at him for a moment, eyes meeting with an authority that you’re unable to challenge. Your focus wavers, resting on your forearms as he plays with you like a little doll that he keeps for himself.
His leisurely pace continues, working his finger inside of you with a lack of urgency, his other hand holding your hip firmly in place. Your core relaxing around him, your soft whines and whimpers filling the kitchen alongside the smell of the cake baking— his finger suddenly leaving you, pulling a gasp from you, only for him to roughly circle your clit, your hips jerking back against him at the sudden stimulation. He chuckles lowly, his grip strengthening on your hip to keep you still, torturing your clit with the roughness of his touch, your whines only encouraging him; the warmth wading through you while your stomach tightens. His fingers entering you again swiftly, two opening you up as you whine at the previous rough treatment and mourning the absence of it, his pace swifter and quicker than before, opening you up with a gasp,
“You beg a lot when you know you only get what I give you,” Alejandro grovels, his full weight suddenly on your back, pressing onto the counter with more force, “I should make you bake in an apron only next time, then you’ll be exposed for me, you’d like that, no?”
A garbled whine leaves you, unable to form words, his words and fingers reducing you to a doll for him to use, his two fingers stalling their thrusts to massage there they rested.
“Uh huh?” Alejandro smiles into a chuckle against your cheek, kissing your jaw, his hand leaving your hip and gripping your jaw, turning you to face him. His lips finally push against yours, a moan immediately leaving both of you, your lips ignited, his beard softly brushing against your face. His tongue brushes against your lips, a sweet gasp letting him in, his presence engulfing you in him. Alejandro’s own moans vibrate through you as another finger slips into you, your moan only allowing him to consume you more; his hand moving from his grip on your jaw to your throat, holding your neck firmly but cautiously, his nose clashing against yours messily as his fingers work further, his pace picking up. Your whimpers and whines are consumed by him, by his touch, by his mouth, by his presence over you.
Alejandro pulls his fingers out of you abruptly, pleasure-drunk sob leaving you as his touch completely leaves you, the sound of his belt and zipper cutting through your haze.
“Patience, neña,” He tuts, the sound him spitting into his hand making your core clench, looking over your shoulder to watch him stroke his large cock; a whine leaving you as you look up at him, a chuckle leaving him at your desperation, continuing to stroke himself at your state. Your eyes rake back down his body, through his built muscle, scars, the little stupid 20-year-old tattoos he got half drunk, his thick hair from his chest to his groin that is only interrupted by scars or muscle, and his thick cock, uncut and leaking, a veil visible through his foreskin, hair trailing down his v to his thighs—
“Enjoying the view?” Alejandro breaks through your thoughts, his hands finally reclaiming your hips, his cock teasing your entrance and clit.
“Hmm, uh huh,” You manage through a lust-ridden mind, one of his hands gripping your throat.
Alejandro hums, finally pushing his thick head through your entrance the dull stretch that is evident of his size, a groan leaving you from deep in your chest; his grunt mirroring your groan, his hand around your throat pulling you back to his chest, arching your back to take more of his cock, keeping you close as your body relaxed around him.
His head rests against yours, chin on your shoulder, his pants fanning your ear as he adjusts to you; his cock stretching you out wonderfully at his size, his hips slowly pushing through to rest against yours. His cock resting deep inside of you, your body full and weighted down by him, your ass resting against his hips.
“You always feel wonderful,” Alejandro praises you, his voice soft and breathy, his breath sending a shiver rushing through you, pressing a warm gentle kiss to your ear.
“Feels so good,” You manage, Alej groaning in response, his fingers around your throat softly massaging to reassure you. He leans forward, leaning you down onto the counter to rest you on your forearms, his body pressed fully against yours— his hips pressing himself as deep into you as he could.
“Now be a good whore, yeah?”
Alejandro’s hips snap against yours with pointed accuracy, a cry ripping through you— the sensation of being empty and full again overwhelming you— setting a brutal pace of quick snaps and his tight grip on you, keeping you where he wants you as his cock ruthlessly fills you to the brim and taking away the sensation just as it reaches you. His hand around your throat holds you surely, without the force to choke, while his other hand took its liberty to dig bruises into the flesh of your hip. The momentum of his thrusts ripples your ass with each snap of his hips, his growls and grunts filling your ears and keeping you within your floating overwhelming overtaken headspace, his cock reaching the spongy area that reduces you to mush, keeping you pliant and good for him to fuck.
His lips find your ear, taking your ear between his teeth, holding you there against him with a sweet dull pain reminding you of how you’re being ruined. Your own noises aren’t even registering as your own anymore, just vibrations leaving your throat that radiate through his hand, mixed with the wet snaps and his own noises. The overwhelming sensation only worsened, his grip on your throat pulling you up to rest your head under his, resting your crown against his throat, thrusting into you at a deeper angle as your back arches greatly, your hips kept still, his balls slapping against your clit with every thrust giving you sweet rushes of pointed pleasure.
His hips stall, his dick deep within you, panting for a moment as though his attention was somewhere else; his grip on your throat softened as the hand on your hip mimicked, easing out of your heat,
“What- why,” you ask, words not coming out as a coherent thought as much as a lust-hazed jumble.
Beep beep beep.
“Your cake is done,” Alejandro answers, a smirk heavy in his voice as he pulls you away from the counter to grab oven mitts, “You don’t want it to over-bake.”
“I hate you sometimes,” You grumble, the haze lifting long enough for the oven mitts to come on.
You take the time to open the oven, pulling the cake further on the rack to check if it’s baked through enough, finding it to be done and pulling it from the oven; resting it on the stove and putting the rack back, turning the oven off, just in time for Alejandro to grip you again,
“Is that so?” He murmurs with a certain tone, sending a shiver down your spine.
Alejandro pulls you back to the section of the counter you’ve been pressed against for the better part of 30 minutes, bending you over and re-entering you with a roughness, caging you down between his arms. His thrusts immediately picking back up their original speed, his arm around your throat as his other arm snaked around your waist.
“You hate when I fuck you like this, no?” He growls, keeping you locked where you are, your gasps being pushed out of you with every rough thrust, his cock bullying into you with every slight movement.
“Answer me.” Alejandro stops, keeping his cock buried in you.
“No, I don’t,” You gasp out in some sort of successful sentence.
“You’re just being a brat then,” His voice lowers to a growl, pulling your hips up further to meet his.
A little sob of pleasure leaves you, unable to form a rebuttal, his mocking chuckle only making you wetter as his thrusts resume, leaving you open to fill you up again with every rough movement, keeping you full of his cock every second only to rip it out, your walls twitching around him. His arm leaves your waist briefly, a swift swat landing on your ass, the sting only making you groan.
“You can’t stand to act right, huh?”
Swat.
“Can’t keep your mouth shut.”
Swat.
“You take what I give you, don’t you, neña?”
“Uh huh,” you whine, the light sting only making the stimulation stronger, his hips smacking against your ass with every thrust.
“Uh huh,” He mocks you back, your poor body being fucked like a whore that he never viewed you as, like a cheap little toy he could throw away afterwards while you knew that would never happen; no, he’s fucking you like this to make sure that your pussy will never take a cock the same after he’s done with you, as though that would happen.
“Such a pretty girl,” His breath is ragged as your walls twitch, the arm around your waist moving away, instead his hand cupping your pussy to find your clit, “my pretty girl, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you whimper, his finger finding your clit, rubbing circles as his growls morph into ragged pants, grit there but lessened, your pleasure mixing together from your clit, his touch, your walls, his presence, his everything that he gave you in a spontaneous fuck—
“Mariposa, you’re a dream,” Alejandro grumbles, his finger quickening as the warmth spreads to your thighs, the heat twisting deliciously, the only type of anxiety that was sweet twisting its way through your core. His thrusts never slowing as his rhythm faltered, his weight pressing down onto you more, his voice more uneven as his composure cracked— his focus on you.
“I’m- I’m-”
“Sí,” His voice is practically gravel, between ragged breaths and strained passion, his attention to your clit finally snapping at his disheveled state— warmth filling out your thighs and stomach, muscles constraining and tightening around him, keeping him inside of you as your orgasm crashes through you, the noise leaving your mouth strangled by your pleasure. The warmth devolving into sensitivity as his hand leaves your clit, holding you still as his irregular thrusts stall, a final growl accompanying the warm cum that fills you. His weight holding you down to the counter as he pants in your ear, finally releasing your throat from his arm, the muscles of his thigh twitching against yours.
A mixture of noise and an attempt at syllables leaves your mouth, resting your head against the counter as Alejandro lifts his weight off of you, gently pulling out of you; his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you upright, keeping the majority of your weight distributed onto him.
“Good, no?” Alejandro teases, his voice worn but warm, pressing a soft kiss against shell of your ear.
“Yeah,” You breathe out, his nose buried in your hair, his arms keeping you close and keeping you warm as reality returns to the two of you; your wrinkled skirt around your waist that has half-fallen back down, his jeans that have been around his knees this entire time and the little sting of on your leg where the zipper teeth grazed against you aggressively, and the smell of baked chocolate cake in the air. The sun shining onto the counter, the bowl beside the sink, the cake resting on the stove.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” His voice is softer, turning you to pick you up, pulling you into his arms, your body relaxing against him, “You still have to make the frosting.”
“Are you going to fuck me when I’m trying to do that too?” You murmur, nuzzling into his shoulder as he carries you, his warmth seeping into your skin. Your body relaxes into him, his gentle grip reassuring and a silent promise to keep you safe, your eyes slipping shut.  
Alejandro chuckles, carrying you to the bedroom, laying you down on the bed, letting you melt there, your eyes shut as you hear his footsteps go and come, his hands pulling off your shirt, a warm rag running up your legs ever so softly, cleaning you up with a gentleness only reserved for you.
“Te amo,” Alejandro kisses your cheek gently, capturing your lips with an almost-lethargic softness, as his body drapes over yours.
“Te amo.”
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tags / @lucyisdoingfine @southernbluebellereader
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bobby-r2d2-floyd · 1 year
Text
The Nanny part 2
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note: here's part two to the nanny! i'm hopefully going to try and start to get longer pieces out soon, i'm still trying to get back into the swing of writing fics again.
warnings: mentioned of parental death
trigger warning: one sentence in the fourth paragraph that talks about school shooting, but no violence actually occurs.
word count: 1.6k (sorry it's short, between yesterday and today i've had a headache that wouldn't go away :( )
no beta again, we die like men
inspired by: @roosterforme
previous part | next part
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You just moved to California, wanting a change from the cold Vermont air and where better to stay than with your aunt, Penny Benjamin. Penny was your mom’s sister, an unfortunate accident in 1999 took your mother and your father, you were 10 years old. Penny was more than willing to take in her only niece, even if it meant having you relocate to Virginia with her. 
Years had passed and Penny had done all but adopt you, she called you her daughter when people asked, made all your appointments for you until you were old enough to make your own, she helped you with boys, and then girls, when you came out to her. She held you while you cried over your first real heartbreak, she taught you all about your period and safe sex. She made you feel comfortable, like you could go to her with any problem that you had, and she would fix it for you.
Maybe it also helped that your grandfather was an admiral in the United States Navy, but that’s beside the point, Penny Benjamin took care of you when you had no one once, and she was more than happy to do it again. 
Being a teacher, especially in today’s world, is hard. You had to worry about whether or not your school was going to fall victim to the next mass shooting, if you could keep your kids safe in an environment where the legislators didn’t care. It was a hard choice to make, leaving the school system, because you knew that they were already understaffed, and that there were no qualified substitute teachers available to take over your position… but between the abuse from your principal, the students, and the entitled parents? You were done.
You at least waited until the end of the school year before packing it all up and moving west. It was a sad goodbye with all the students you had loved but for your sanity, it was what you needed to do.
Penny had an open bedroom, and Amelia was thrilled to be living with you again, mainly so you can help her on her homework, and of course you were happy to see Penny and Pete back together. You always loved having him around when you were a kid, and it really did feel like your relationship with him never waivered, even though you only texted each other for holidays and birthdays after the last time he and Penny “broke up”. 
You were laying on the couch scrolling through your phone, not paying attention to whatever it was Amelia had put on the tv when Penny walked in after her short shift at the bar; it was a slow weekend and Jimmy had it plenty under control.
“Hey, so I might have told one of the guys Pete works with that you’d be willing to nanny for him.” Penny says as soon as she walks in.
“Are you talking to me?” Amelia asks, not looking away from the tv and Penny laughs.
“No, your sister.” 
That catches your attention and you groan.
“I don’t want to nanny some old admiral’s bratty kids.” you say as you sit up and Penny sits next to you.
“He isn’t an old admiral with bratty kids, he’s 35, the same age as Bradley, and he literally just had an infant dropped off on his front porch today.” she tells you and you look over at her. “He needs a lot of help, and you would be perfect for the job. Aside from working at the bar you’re never doing anything.” she shrugs and steals some of the popcorn that was on the table and you look at her with your mouth open.
“Okay, first off. Rude. Secondly, I do plenty of stuff!”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
“Uh, I help Amelia with her homework.”
“And you can help her while also helping Jake out with his daughter.” Penny says and you sigh.
“Fine.” you grumble and head into the kitchen, “do you eat yet, Pen?”
“Yeah, Pete brought me food to the bar.”
“Don’t you… serve food at the bar too?” 
“Not sushi.” 
You spend the next three weeks waiting to meet this Jake guy. Sure you knew of him, but you didn’t want to be persuaded by the ‘Hangman’ persona that he had before becoming a dad. Sure people don’t just change overnight, so you’re sure he still has quite the mouth and attitude, especially if this baby is keeping him up at night. 
You opened the bar early and the members of the Dagger Squad slowly filtered in. Bob was sitting at the bar with you while you were getting bottles ready, he was telling you a story from when he was a kid on his family’s farm and he was chasing down pigs and slipped and fell in the mud when the bell above the door rang. 
Looking over, you see a man you don’t recognize carrying a little baby in the cutest little dress you’ve ever seen, a diaper bag slung over his other shoulder. You shoot him a smile as he walks up to the bar.
“Hi! I’m Y/N Benjamin, but you can call me Saturn.” you say as you wipe a rag over the bar top, cleaning up some of the iced tea that Bob spilled. “You must be Jake?” 
This new man smiles at you and nods, “Yes ma’am.” he says, setting the diaper bag on a barstool. 
You watch his muscles flex as he shifts his daughter from one side to the other to give his arm a break and he catches you staring at her. “This is Avery.” he turns so you can see the little girl’s face and you let out a gentle little coo.
“Oh look at you! Aren’t you just the cutest little girl.” you say, talking in a voice that has her laughing and reaching out for you. You take her from Jake without even hesitating and she plays with the fingerprint pendants of your parents that you have hanging around your neck. 
Since the bar is still technically closed for another hour and a half, you make your way out from behind the bar and take a seat on the stool next to Bob who smiles at the little girl, pulling away as she tries to reach for his glasses but isn’t quick enough as she rubs her chubby fingers over his lenses. 
You and Jake just laugh at her antics and at poor Bob who is left with baby drool covered glasses for the time being, but even he can’t stay mad at little Avery. She looks up at you, blue-green eyes bright as she smiles her little gummy smile and laughs along with the two of you. 
Jake can’t believe how comfortable Avery already is with you, it took days for her to warm up to anyone aside from Penny; she still doesn’t like Rooster but Jake believes it's a hundred percent because of his mustache. Normally he’s nervous when she’s around strangers of any kind, even her own doctor when she first saw the woman, but with you he’s oddly… comfortable. 
Begrudgingly you hand Avery back to Jake, you have to open the bar in 20 minutes and you’re already way behind but thankfully Bradley volunteers to help you get ready. You’re standing next to him slicing limes as he cuts up some oranges.
“You know, she’s never taken to someone that fast before.” he says, making sure the slices are relatively uniform.
“It’s because I’m a woman.” you tease and he rolls his eyes.
“No, seriously. Penny was a given because she’s just the best, but Phoenix? Bob? She only just started to get along with them, and those two are the best people in this entire squad. It even took her a bit to warm up to Hangman and he’s her dad.” Rooster says, stealing an orange slice that he cut too thin before taking a beer from the fridge under the counter and walking away.” 
“You have to pay for that!” 
“Put it on my tab, Rings!” he calls out, throwing a wink over his shoulder and you roll your eyes, opening a tab for him before going over to the window and flipping the ‘open’ sign on.
You’re about halfway through your shift when Jake walks up to you, Avery sleeping against him despite the volume of the bar. 
“Hey, headed home?” you ask, taking the top off of a few beers before handing them to the patron that was waiting. 
“Yeah, figured she would prefer to sleep in her bed tonight than on the pool table.” he jokes and you give a gentle laugh.
“Yeah, probably.”
“I wanted to ask if you wanted to go out this weekend? Talk about what Pen offered? If-if you still think you can help me out?” he chews his lip a little, nervous for you to say you’re not interested.
“Yeah! Definitely, uh… here,” you grab a napkin and write your number down with a little cartoon drawing of a circle with a ring around it, how you always signed your nickname. “I’m off on Saturday and Penny isn’t opening on Sunday since it’s going to be such a hot night, she wants us to be off so I’ll be free whenever on both days.” you tell him and he tucks the napkin in his pocket with his phone.
“I’ll text you on Saturday? I can pick you up? Or I mean-” you cut him off with a laugh.
“You can pick me up, I assume you know where Penny lives?” he nods and smiles.
“Yeah, yeah I do.”
“Great, see you on Saturday, Dad-man.” you give him a wink before turning away to go help Jimmy out with the patrons that have gathered around the bar. Jake laughs and turns around to head out, Dad-man?
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idontbelievethehype · 3 months
Text
This isn't for you. Part 1. F.S.
Lets give Farleigh a life outside of Oliver's gaze. ;)
Warnings: drinking, some drug use, smut if you really squint, the general disgust of the upper class, Farleigh being a bitchy pansexual, Oliver is his own warning, Farleigh can't tell the difference between friendship and love. I don't write user inserts. This is an ofc based on a vague amalgamation of several people. No beta, we die and typo like men.
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Farleigh was running late. Farleigh was always running late. It wasn’t something he often even clocked about himself, but this time was different. He’d made a promise to his Art of Islam tutor that he’d attend her thesis defense, and that defense was across campus in 5 minutes. He was selling her short of course. She was a million things more than a tutor to him.
Truthfully, Farleigh didn’t give a singular fuck about the art of Islam. He did give a fuck about Maggie, though, and as poor at time management as he was, he was determined to at least try to keep his promise. So he ran. It was a first.
Maggie was already speaking when he took a seat along the back wall of the lecture hall, sliding down slowly as to not make any noise. He worked hard to steady his labored breathing as silently as possible. He mentally checked out almost immediately, but his eyes never left her nervous fingers hooked together, giving each other comforting strokes as she spoke.
45 long minutes of death by PowerPoint later, Farleigh heard his own name, snapping him from his open-eyed daydreaming.
“Lastly, I’d like to thank Farleigh Start for taking the time to read through this dissertation several times over the last year. You’ve given me lovely feedback, so thank you.” Her voice was weak and rough from having spoken for an hour straight. He simply offered a nod and a smile. Truthfully, he’d only read it once and skimmed it three times. He loved the passion and fervor that worked up in her voice when she spoke about art, and that was enough.
“So, are you a doctor of art now?” Farleigh bumped his elbow into Maggie’s shoulder as they walked side by side back to his dorms. He had waited for her while she answered questions in a closed room. He was glad he’d never know that anxiety. A second class in Art History and never returning to uni again would be more than enough for him.
“I’ll find out by the end of the day, but it is usually a foregone conclusion.” She seemed calmer than she had in months. A weight had clearly been lifted off of her shoulders. It all felt a bit silly to him, but knowing Maggie meant witnessing her drive, however pointless it may seem. She needed a doctorate just about as much as he did. Far less, even. Her future was pre-ordained and quite comfortable.
He’d grown up just a couple of years behind her in age, always stuck together at functions and events. He couldn’t even count how many times they’d been sat side by side at dinner parties. He’d watched her grow from a chubby little girl who couldn’t stop talking about anime into the gorgeous, articulate, connoisseur of fine art she was today. He knew that she’d watched him grow too. He often wondered if he was just a child in her eyes, as he sometimes was in his own.
“Will you be joining us tonight?” He opened his door for her, watching as she toed her shoes off next to his bed and flung herself down, deflating after a long morning.
“Pub?” It was mostly mouthed. Sound barely came out of her. He didn’t turn the light on. There was a softness to her when she was spent that he didn’t see in other girls. He certainly didn’t see it in any of the boys he knew. Something gentle and sleepy and begging to be held.
“Can’t tonight, love. I’ve got a dinner with mum.” She lifted her arms and legs like a bug, slowly waving them about with a foolish smile, beckoning Farleigh into her grasp. “Come, smoosh me.”
“If you’re trying to be sexy, you’re shit at it.” He complied nonetheless, lying on top of her and hiking her thighs up his hips until they were interlocked on his bed. It was intimate, yet anything but sexual. It was a position they found themselves in on a semiregular basis.
“When I’m ready to be sexy, you’ll know.” She giggled and tucked her face into his neck. The heat from her breath made his hair stand on end. “You could come to dinner if you like, Farleigh.”
“Not with THE Countess of Snowden. I couldn’t fathom taking a moment of her time.” He didn’t need to see her to know that she was rolling her eyes. The relationship between their mothers had been adversarial all their lives, though it rarely trickled down to the children. For all of the caddy shit talking and passive aggressive comments over cocktails, they all summered at the same estates and enjoyed the same trappings, even if Frederica and Serena had been at each other’s throats since birth.
The thing about Maggie that Farleigh loved the most, apart from just blanket familiarity, the thing that really set her apart from every other landed gentry in their friend groups, was that Maggie never once acknowledged her birthright. It was there, sure, and it was significant. 27th in line to crown, Easter brunch with the Queen, etc, but she lived her life quietly and calmly, in the way Farleigh imagined boring middle class people did. She never pulled the rip cord for a bailout. He respected the hell out of that. It was something he was never able to accomplish himself.
“Oh come on then, you could ask for my hand in marriage,” Maggie started, exaggerating her posh accent for his enjoyment. Farleigh squeezrf her side, making her squirm into him more. “Two great houses equal in dignity.” She recited Shakespeare mockingly. To her, they really were equals, though Farleigh knew better.
“Dignity, is that what we’re calling this now?” Farleigh slid his hand down from her waste to her hip, letting the silky fabric of her trousers slip between his fingers. If she were someone else, he’d start working on the buttons, inching the zip down, easing them away from her skin. Not Maggie though. This wasn’t a game to be won. There was no trophy at the end. To comfort and to be comforted. That was all they were there for this time.  
“Drinks after, I suppose.” Maggie mumbled, lacing her fingers into his hair softly, her nails barely grazing at his scalp. “If you’re still out.”
“We will be.” Farleigh closed his eyes and let himself appreciate the feeling of her hands on him. He was rarely touched so tenderly by his lovers. Even calling them lovers was giving too much credit on both sides. “Felix has a new pet. You can meet him.”
“Oh, god. Not again.” He felt her body go slack. Maggie’s family was closed off. True aristocracy always was. They found the way the Catton’s took on strays to be intolerable, always making Saltburn a theme park for the less fortunate. Last summer, she’d called it sad. Poverty porn in how they always fed on the stories of the downtrodden. Farleigh wanted so badly to agree, but he knew in some ways he was just as much a charity case as their flavor of the week.
They parted ways around tea, Maggie going to shower and nap, Farleigh off to attend a tutorial he had put zero thought into. He loved the way his tshirt smelled of her hair, of shampoo and the scent she’d been wearing since her 16th birthday. Vera Wang Princess. Cheap and frankly pedestrian, probably purchased at Boots, it was the sort of scent he’d drag a woman for it he met her in the pub. He didn’t mind it on Maggie. It was familiar and soothing to carry her with him for the rest of the day.
Farleigh sincerely hoped Maggie would come out to the pub. He wanted to chat shit with her and maybe dance a bit, but she text him around midnight that she was going to bed. He didn’t reply. She was wishy-washy on nights out. Always a good time, but rarely in much of a mood to have one. She got horrible hangovers regardless and he’d been talking to a boy from St. Anne’s all evening who seemed interested in fooling around.
They didn’t see each other the next day, or over the weekend. This was hardly unusual. Farleigh loved her company in a different way than that if his other friends, or his cousins. He suspected she felt the same. It wasn’t necessary to keep tabs. It was annoying even. With the school year coming to a close, they were likely not to see one another until midsummer anyway.
Farleigh arrived to Saltburn with Felix at the end of term. He’d wanted to take a weekend or two in London to party, but Venetia had pleaded with them to come home. Venetia felt more like family to Farleigh than most. His little sister, faithfully awaiting his return.
They had a peaceful, though boring week as a family with the occasional entertainment of poor dear Pamela’s idiocy. She’d worn her welcome out over the spring, but Farleigh knew that the Catton’s need a bit on tension or they’d go looking for it. He quite enjoyed having someone else be the mess on the floor for them to step around.
Once Ollie arrived, though, it all felt a bit crowded. The little gremlin attached himself to Felix like a leach. No matter where they went, Oliver was there like an unsettling shadow. He was a poor lost boy. He demanded attention and care. Farleigh longed for the comfort of someone who just gave a shit if he was in the room or not.
Felix’s man-child has arrived
Farleigh sent the text already knowing the reaction he’d receive.
Well, then, I’m not coming now. Yuck.
Maggie liked to pretend she had any control over it. Of all of the places to be and families to summer with, one could do far worse than Saltburn.
Of course you are. They’ve already made up your room for you.
It wasn’t entirely a lie. The rooms had been made up for weeks for whenever Maggie and her mother planned to stop by. Hers was one of dozens of rooms that go largely unused.
Next to yours?
As God intended, my love.
When they were children, they’d build little forts with blankets and sleep side by side all summer long, never alone in the night. At home with their mothers, they were always alone. Left to their own devices. Summer was the only time Farleigh felt truly part of anything. When they got older and shipped away to boarding schools, their summers together were sometimes supplemented with bank holidays and winter breaks. The idea was the same even while their bodies were quite different.
They would talk, maybe kiss, maybe touch, maybe more. It was equal parts educational as it was erotic. To this day, when Farleigh makes a girl cum, it’s Maggie’s body he’s using as a roadmap.
She came through the doors with absolutely no fan fair. She had a way with Duncan. She seemed to disarm him. He didn’t feel the protective need with people whose stations were far higher than the family he served. She could take nothing from them, only give. And besides, he’d known her all her life.
“Good morning, lover.” She wrapped Farleigh in a hug from behind at the garden breakfast table, surprising him.  She kissed his neck, his cheek, the tip of his nose. He held his arm out as far behind himself as he could reach to not burn her with his cigarette. Almost immediately, she did the same to Venetia on her right. “Oh how I’ve missed you, my dear.”
“I didn’t even know you were coming today.” Venetia pushed Felix’s feet from the chair between herself and Farleigh to make room for their friend. Maggie had always treated Venetia with a bit more care than most others. It went a long way.
“Oh, I drove. I was only at Daylesford. Hardly a long way.” She immediately silenced the potential comments brewing within Elspeth. She knew exactly how to please her, not that she really needed to. “Mum went off to Portofino.” She cupped a hand around her mouth, allowing only Elspeth and Farleigh to see, stage whispering. “To see a man!”
This elicited a delighted laugh from all of the Catton’s who often joked about how uptight and impossible to please Lady Serena could be. Daughter of Princess Margaret, she had somehow inherited absolutely none of her mother’s good humor or sense of fun.
Suddenly, as if she felt it boring into her, Maggie seemed to clock Oliver’s unblinking gaze. “Oh, hello, you must be-“ She let the sentence linger, having never actually learned his name.
“Oliver.” Farleigh watched him make the completely wrong choice of trying stare her down, that doll-like smile on his face that had pulled so many others in. For all of Maggie’s calm demeanor and candor, she didn’t trust a soul she hadn’t known a decade or longer. There was no way in with her. No amount of charisma or flirtation could build her good will. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Ah.” Maggie raised her eyebrows, pasting a somewhat strained smile onto her own face to match his. “Sure.” Under the table, she took Farleigh’s hand. “I do hope you’ve been having a good summer so far, Oliver.”
After their somewhat tense interaction, Maggie largely ignored Oliver, and Felix too for that matter. They made plans to go to the field in the afternoon. Farleigh felt content for the first time in weeks.
“Strange, right?” Farleigh asked the second they closed his bedroom door behind him, both of them snapping into action immediately.
“Oh god, yes.” Maggie wiggled her jeans down her hips, sitting down on the edge of his mattress to kick them off. “Like a creepy porcelain doll.” She pulled her t-shirt over her head and tossed it into Farleigh’s chest. He was already half undressed himself. Maggie didn’t have a bra on. Her small chest held a sort of unexplainable, ungendered elegance. He preferred her that way.
“You should see the way he looks at Felix like he’s going to eat him or something.” Farleigh emphasized the word eat as he almost fell over trying to yank his socks off.
“I love it when you’re like this.” Maggie was down to her white cotton thong, sprawled out on his bed in a column of mid-morning sunlight. The ever-present dust from the tapestries on his walls left them in a faint, swirling fog. It felt like they were in a dream.
Farleigh stepped between her knees hanging off the bed. He ran his hands up her legs, enjoying the stubble of her unshaven thighs on his fingertips. “Like what?”
Maggie walked her fingers from the top of his hand to his chest before reaching out and pulling him down on top of her. “I like it when you’re a complete bitch.” Her eyes closed when she laughed and he laughed with her.
He shifted into her more, enjoying the way his hips forced her legs wide to compensate for their dramatic difference in size. It was his instinct to say something snide and barbed, dripping with sarcasm, but he knew he didn’t need to. He didn’t need to say anything at all.
Farleigh took his time with Maggie. He always did. They had nowhere to be but with each other. Last summer she had said he looked cast in bronze. She’d called him statuesque. Beautiful. No one else had ever described him as anything more than surface level. No one had ever looked at him long enough.
He pressed himself into her slowly, watching her lip go between her teeth and her face twist upward into a joyful smile. She craned her neck, looking down at were their bodies met. “How’s it look?” He asked with a chuckle, relishing in the way her breaths got heavier the more he moved.
“Really, really fucking hot.” Maggie spoke through a deep exhale, flopping her head back onto his bed and looking up into his eyes. “Best porn I’ve ever watched.” Her hand came up to his cheek, thumb brushing against his bottom lip. “I like to watch this too.”
“See, I like it when you’re like this.” He kept his pace slow and languid, coaxing pleasure out of her steadily. No rush.
“Talking dirty?” Her voice was husky. Her eyes still locked with his.
“No,” It came out sing-song, light. “I like it when you’re having fun.”
Movement in the window behind her caught his eye. Someone walking in the courtyard.
“Look, it’s the real-boy now.” Farleigh separated from Maggie just long enough to flip her over and slip back into her. Her ass bounced off of his hip bones. Her delighted squeal rang out through his open window so he reached forward to clasp a hand over her mouth. “Shhh, just watch him with me.”
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thewinchestah · 3 months
Text
"Good things come for those who wait" - Alastor x reader fic
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Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader
Tags: ,18+, Smut, NSFW, edging, BDSM, Alastor does what he wants, there's plot if you squint really hard, alastor in heat, breeding kink, Possesive! Alastor, Jealous!Alastor, Protective!Alastor, spanking,degradation kink, praise kink, Angst with a happy ending, fluff, I didn't proof read this, english isn't my first language, no beta we die like men here, etc etc etc
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Word Count: there's no point guys. I can't stop talking.
A/N: WOAH!! Hello everyone!! What the fuck?? I wasn't expecting my "debut fic" to blow up like that! Thank you so so much to everyone who took the time to read it and leave a comment! I'm truly flattered by your praise. So, I hope this sequel to "PREY" does it justice! (but it can also be read as a standalone). Let me know if you guys like it, and if you have anymore ideas/suggestions! I'm tagging everyone who asked me to, so if you want to be tagged on my next fics let me know! Without further due, here comes that mostrosity of a fic! Hope you like it &lt;3! (UPDATE: PART 3 IS NOW UP!!)
Part I  | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Taglist: @smallershorteranduncut @markster666 @jyoongim @stygianoir  @pepperycookie @fraspent @aether-th3-enby 
It all started, as many things do, with a joke and a simple misunderstanding. Dying and instantly going to hell is not easy. Being in hell and not understanding why the FUCK you are in hell is confusing, frustrating and sometimes drawright ridiculous. There’s no guidebook for the hellish afterlife, and more often than not you felt lost at sea, drowning. Until you found your questionable lifeline, the Radio Demon. 
Somehow said demon clocked really early on that you were completely infatuated with him, but too scared to act on it. And oh, how he gave you enough reason to be infatuated, enough reason to be scared. Luring you into the most delicious trap, Alastor had claimed you as his. His to breed during the height of his heat, his to care for, his to inflict the most heavenly torture. 
Being caught up in the middle of the living myth that was the Radio Demon was a dangerous thing, you had been warned over and over again. So of course that you had to almost fuck everything up in the silliest way possible.
The obnoxious TV set, also known as Vox, had just started another round of his futile attempts to win Alastor’s attention by airing the most absurd reality tv character assassination ever. You would put money on the fact that the obsessive flat screen was a deceased TLC producer. Usually, any of his pompous i-hate-alastor-so-so-much!!! fits would be met with enthusiasm around the Hotel. Everyone would cramp in front of the TV and make fun of the entire ordeal. Even Alastor would tag along and make a private edition of his radio show while he counter-narrated that nonsense. It became a fun bonding activity for everyone involved, it was a nice thing. But there’s a reason why you can’t have nice things.
Today the Hotel was mostly empty:, only you, Angel and a very on edge, sexually frustrated, irritated Alastor haunted its posh walls. Still, you and Angel carried on with the little tradition sitting side by side in front of the tv not knowing what to expect from today’s “My Strange Addiction - Alastor’s Version” episode. It was truly a laughable attempt of a character assassination, actors who could not act saying things like “Alastor isn’t even as bad as everyone says, his torture tactics are not that special either. My mom’s aunt was tortured by him and was going to work 10 hours later”, “i walked down the street today and alastor didn’t even try to kill me when he saw me crossing the street, he’s all talk” “i have video footage of the self-proclaimed cannibal eating a chocolate covered strawberry. He’s cannibalbaiting.”
“no self-respecting overlord would go out wearing those ridiculous out-of fashion clothes”. 
Angel was having the time of his life leading the daily Vox roast session, the spider was funny and you couldn’t hold the laughs. The camera cut to a close-up of Vox, babbling on about technology and the anti-Radio Demon speech you knew by heart at this point. As if on cue, Alastor entered the room. But the pair of you remained oblivious to his presence. 
“Toots, you totally should apply for this show! I mean it!. I’m sure Vox will buy literally anything you say. Anything! If you say Alastor likes to eat red nail polish cause it looks like blood he would believe it! You laughed at his words, what a ridiculous thing to say. You loved red nail polish, alastor drinking it because it looks like blood is absurd. “I mean, look at you!! Look at this face, these eyes!! This body!!!” Angel gave your thighs a playful slap. “If you say hell is actually cold using all that i would eat it right up. Vox will be too busy staring at your boobs to notice you dropping that even the oldest radio looks better than that fucking flat face”. The thought that you were the mind-numbing type of beautiful made you laugh. Sometimes you felt like your friends were being way too kind with the flattery about you. You were nothing special at all. It was nice of them to be kind to you, adapting to your new lifestyle was taking a visible tool, anyone could tell. Their efforts were honorable and sweet, but you just couldn’t let yourself believe what in your heart, you knew was a lie. A beautiful, comfortable lie, but still a lie. You weren’t much, you were just lucky. You started to laugh even harder, out of pure nervousness as your brain started to snowball into all the things you weren’t. 
“ Seriously Angel, you have the strangest ideas ever!” you tried to sound normal, putting up a confident facade. That helped, a lot. You had picked that up during your days with Alastor. 
Speaking of the devil, Alastor wasn’t amused by your little display. Standing on the corner of the room as you laughed, he made himself known by walking out of the room, in hurried steps. If it were anyone else, they wouldn’t think much of it. But you weren’t anyone else. You were Alastor’s. 
And that’s why he was seething with rage. His rut always drove him, an already unpredictable man, to the brink of true, pure instinctual insanity. He had to grip his marvelous constructed self control painfully hard. Since your paths crossed, the most chaotic part of his existence seemed in control, your pretty little body always ready to take him, your eyes always holding his gaze in a maddening  comfortable way, the way you would push your limits just for him. 
Only for him.
And the worst part was your softness when it was all done. Alastor would fuck you rentless, for hours, making you take all the mess of his most animalistic desires without a second thought. Both of you would be spent, bathing in the afterglow, room smelling like sex, and you would ask him if he needed anything. Him, that just fucked you so hard so won’t walk straight for a week, that feasted on the blood of the love bites he inflicted, him that covered you in a painting of bruises. 
How could he not want to just lock you inside his lavish room and give you all the rings of hell? to carve his name deep into your soul? to dote on you? to make him the only thing on your mind as he makes you his time and time again in the most sinful ways?
It was simple really, why he was shaking with anger: how you, who was his, was even thinking of being in the same vicinity of that scum of creation?  LAUGHING AT THIS ABSURD CONCEPT. Vox thinking of you was already a crime punishable by painful death, but Vox looking at you was heresy, and the entirety of hell would pay for his transgressions. 
As Alastor stormed off towards the Hotel’s large room corridors, he took several calming breaths. Losing control like this wouldn’t do anyone any favors. In the troubled waters of his mind, Alastor could only think of 3 things: you, fucking you and murdering someone.
 So he didn’t even realize your hurried steps trying to catch up with his long strides.
“Hey sugartits! Don’t take too long doing whatever you need to do! there’s a woman going live after the break saying she saw Alastor eating an entire packet of PAPER TOWELS!!! HAHA! This shit is too good to be true!” you heard angel scream.
Adding insult to injury, nice.
Trying desperately to reach your demon lover gait, you could only think about how bad you had messed up. Alastor was your only true respite in hell. He was a blessing in a mist of the worst humankind could offer. He made you feel hope, more than making you feel alive, he made you feel glad you’re dead. The Radio Demon felt like coming home. You just wanted to make it up to him. You could not lose this, lose him. You were not sure you would survive it. And who knew where you went after dying in hell? 
It doesn’t matter where you go after hell, it doesn’t matter at all if Alastor is not there. Your brain added to your inner monologue. True.
“Alastor! Wait” you shouted. He stops dead on his feet.
Finally, those long long legs of his do not make chasing after your love any easier.
“Alastor, I'm so so sorry. Angel gets way out of line sometimes and I was nervous” he is perfectly still, ears pinned back, listening. But doesn’t say anything back.
“Al I’m truly sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, at all. Look, let’s try to do something to make your day better. I know how hard this season is on you, I know you feel like you are losing contr-
Uh oh.
oh shit.
You used the two forbidden words together. The temperature in the room drops, Alastor snaps towards you. You feel something gripping your throat mercilessly, as you fall to the ground. Looking at the other end of the corridor Alastor has you on a leash of his magic. Eyes burning red, forehead marked “x” he grips your chains hard, pushing you towards him.
“That was a brilliant speech, little doe. Truly marvelous! I’m sure your television debut will be quite the show you were planning!”
His antlers were growing, his demon form showing itself as he becomes taller and taller over you. All bared teeth and flashing red eyes. This is what everyone warned you about. Don’t get in the Radio Demon’s way, he is dangerous and insane. You will regret it.
Hot. your brain thinks. He pulls your leash even tighter, and you feel wetness pooling on your core.
“Do you have any idea what I was about to do before I heard you so selflessly offer your services to that pathetic excuse of a demon?” Dragging you by the magic chains, his towering frame comes down to meet you at eye level. You can’t say anything back, your brain short circuits and goes AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
“You know better than leaving me waiting for an answer at this point, pet” He grips your face using his sharp claws,the pressure threatening to break skin. “But you seem so hellbent on being a bad girl today, I shouldn’t expect your usually good girl’s behavior, should I?”
You are, once again nothing but a doe caught in the headlights of his eyes
“One should always know better than expecting their fantasies to be true”
His sclera goes black, only the tiny blazing red radio dials devouring you as he stares so deep into you, you feel feverish. 
“But since we are already here. I. Will. Tell. You.” static picks up around the room and surrounds you both, the corridor is illuminated by an eerie green light. You start to kinda fear for your life, but Alastor has you completely hypnotized by the radio dials on his eyes. You shiver in anticipation. 
 “I was coming to ask you, to please, spare me a part of your day, away from you friends. Because the only thing on my mind has been you. Fucking you. Sinking my cock so deep into your tight, wet cunt it would mark your soul. Because you are the only one who can take me like this, who deserves being bred by me, who deserves every drop of my seed”
You feel the wetness on your panties grow until it runs down your thighs. There’s nothing right about this, but your dear Alastor showed you long ago how the concepts of right and wrong are meant to be skewed.
“But oh well, you seem to have your affections directed elsewhere…” he tsks at you using that delicious mocking tone. “But, you can’t blame a desperate man for trying” he goes from 100 to 0 really fast, his voice softens so much in a way that’s almost too heavy to hear after all that. Even with his demon form still very much present  “Do you still want to make my day better, pet?”
you are at a loss of words, but you manage to nod desperately. The anticipation of what he is going to do to you makes you giddy. 
He manhandles your leash until you are on your knees in front of him, tugging on the chains so you look up towards his crotch. He makes quick work of his pants, pulling his cock out. Hard, angry hot red coloured. Angry because of you, angry for you. 
“Open wide, little one” and without much more warning, Alastor is fucking your face, hard and fast. 
You position your arms behind your back as quickly as you can.  You know how hard it is for him to be touched when his rut is peaking. The overwhelming need for relief mixing with his ever present desire for control. This is about him asserting his dominance over you, making sure you don’t ever forget where you belong: In the warmth of his burning gaze, under him, on your knees, while he merciless fucks your throat into compliance. He’s taking it out on you, and you fucking love it.
He’s not saying anything, only growling like he’s about to murder someone. He grabs fistfuls of your velvety hair, but never leaves the white knuckle grip on your chains. You can only resist the urge of playing with your pussy while he thrusts so deep you feel his monster cock. hitting the back of your throat. This is about him, and you want to give him this so badly your cunt is throbbing with desire
Tears wet your cheeks, your lips around his cock are the definition of renaissance art to Alastor. He’s almost over the edge now, the head of his cock twitches on top of your tongue as a warning of his approaching orgasm. It’s hard, it’s hot, it’s fast and it’s angry.
Alastor cums, you swallow as much as you can, but he takes his cock out and spills everywhere, coating your hair,  your face. It’s so deliciously erotic Alastor can’t resist catching some of his cum and running his hands throughout your velvet locks, bathing you in his essence, marking you once more. There’s still a bit of cum on the tip of his claw, he feeds it to you, and your lips wrap around his fingers as you take as much of him you can take, gladly. 
“Oh how beautiful you are when you ruin yourself like this for me, my little doe” You look up at him with adoration and a lustful gaze, his eyes hold an equally lustful gaze and… something more. Something that you are sure will drive you insane. 
Alastor notices the pooling mess underneath your tights, he knows how desperate you are for relief, but he still wants to self indulge on you. He’s certain you still don’t understand the reality of what he is feeling. Swiftly he topples you down the corridor’s carpet and places himself between your legs, his crawled finger tearing your lacy panties away. 
Then, he feasts on you like a starving man, and he might be, because you taste like the ambrosia of the gods and he can’t get enough of it. Of how you make a mess of yourself for him and there’s still something for him to take. You just taste so sweet, what a perfect meal your nectar makes. His wicked silver tongue polishes you, aided by your whispered sighs, his name moaned like a prayer on your lips. You are so so close, alastor sucks on your throbbing clit you are already seeing stars, all you need is a gentle push.
 Grinning like a devil, Alastor looks up, tilts his head, gives you the most wicked-and-douchey look in existence. He gets up, your leash dissipating into the air and walks away in perfect composure, like nothing happened. Nothing at all.
“Well, I think that’s my cue!!” he says in his usually chirpy tone. You just stay there, flabbergasted. “I just remembered I still have a lot to do today! Work never stops when you maintain a facility like this in tip-top condition!” Already halfway across the corridor, Alastor’s head turns towards you “Still want to make my day good my dear? Be a doll and clean this mess up, will you?” you just stare at him, too fucking stunned to speak. You can’t believe it. That fucking devil. He’s about to make the turn towards the elevator and disappear when his eyes flash red as he warns you “Oh! and don’t you dare make yourself cum without my permission. If you cum before I say so, you won’t be cumming for a week. Choose wisely!Let’s see who loses control first Ha Ha! This will be fun!”
 Alastor can be a psychopathic demon in heat, but before all that he still is a psychopathic demon who loves torture. 
And he just left you all hot and bothered. 
Alastor knew better than believing in such things as heaven or holiness. In fact, Alastor was positively sure nothing was sacred. The concept of sacredness was non-existent in his book.
But his skeptic mind danced on the edge of belief when he touched you. To be inside you felt heavenly, heavenly in a type of way that should not even be allowed in this place. The way your lush body burned underneath his wicked gaze was sacred.The way you always presented yourself to him, with selfless abandon was sacred. Somehow, someone allowed him, of all people, access to a soul he frankly didn’t understand what was doing in hell in the first place. He never was the better man. He was never giving that up.
In all of his nature, Alastor felt the most sinful pleasure in defiling your sacredness. He wanted nothing but to take the heavenly thing you were and taint it with his darkness. 
He was well acquainted to torture and had no shame in inflicting the most delicious and depraved type of it on you ,until all of your holiness was irrevocably marked by him, down to the core of your soul.  Of course Alastor didn’t buy your soul. He didn’t need to use those means to completely own you. He did it effortlessly, because you craved it. Because he craved it.
That’s why the thought of Vox even looking in your way was heretic, and not in a good way. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you to Vox. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. Period. You were his.
 But adding that man into the equation just made everything more intolerable. The things he would do if he found out about you… Found out that not only you were his but how you could make someone feel. How precious and undeserving of anything less than good you were… 
You were made to be cherished and protected. Protected by him.
 In fact, it took all of the Radio Demon’s willpower to restrain from walking to the Vees building, and kill Vox for something he didn’t do. Because Alastor wouldn’t allow the thought to even cross his mind. All that, a messy display of his desperation and loss of control. Giving that prick the smug satisfaction of knowing somehow he got to him, in his last moments. 
Damn, his rut truly did make him on edge.
Suppressing his murderous thoughts, Alastor focused his mind into something he as actually good at: torture. Yours specifically. He still wanted to punish you for making him feel like this. He still wanted to make you understand.
And he just thought of the sweetest way to do it.
-
After cleaning up the mess on the corridor, and yourself (you did it all on autopilot, still trying to understand what the FUCK happened) you still had to give Angel a satisfaction about why you didn’t come back. You must’ve looked really miserable cause Angel just hugged you really tight and ordered you to bed. When in reality all of your efforts were now focused on masking your humiliating arousal. So you find yourself lying in your bed, trying not to think anything Radio Demon related. You’re totally not thinking about the way he looked at you while he fucked you. The way his eyes would search yours in a crowded room, winking playfully at you. An inside joke. A promise.The way you both playfully banter at the dinner table over silly things. You are also totally not thinking about how he takes you, how you love to hear him saying “good girl” to you after you push your limits again, only for him. Not thinking at all about how his cock fills you so perfectly, you truly feel empty without it. Who’s thinking about what hides behind his eyes when he his voice goes all soft in the middle of a rough fucking? Ha ha!! Definitely not you. 
You punch yourself with your pillow. 
C’mon don’t think thoughts of Alastor now…
You are so fucked, and not in a sexy way. The worst part is that you want to endure it, you want to be good for him. Your pussy is aching to be touched, your mind begging you to have thoughts of Alastor while your pussy is being touched. But right now you would give everything in this world to hear him praise you again. You know how hard his rut is on him… He already carries a lot alone, the Hotel, the doomsday clock of extermination ticking closer and closer everyday. Plus the other things… You know there’s something more, something that haunts his nights, but it’s not your place to ask. Hell, you are too scared to ask. You just hope, you just pray that when it happens you are beside him. You don’t ever expect the Radio Demon to ever ask for help, or open up. Or seek comfort. Oh, he’s anything but comfortable. But you like to think that in time, he would feel comfortable enough around you he could let something slip, a tiny detail to add to your “The Mystery of the Radio Demon” clue board. Something that would let you show him he doesn’t need to pick himself apart, carry all these burdens alone.
Great, you are doing amazing at the “not thinking any Alastor thoughts” game. 
You hug your pillow closer and look across you window as you start saying out loud a list of things you need to do around the Hotel. Maybe this will take your mind off the devil.
Tend to the Venus Fly traps of the gardens. (You could ask Nifty for the bugs)
Write the thank you letters to the new guests that agreed to help with hotel chores.
Tell charlie about your book club idea using cool flashcards 
It’s your turn to organize “Theme nights”, maybe Alastor would enjoy a “great gatsby” theme, right?
Great, Alastor again. You sighed. 
Suddenly a red note written with perfect penmanship flies next to your spot on the bed.
“My darling doe, I’m waiting for you in my chambers.
Don’t take your time, we have much to discuss.-
Yours, Alastor.
You take your time, though, to thank anyone who’s listening as you sprint towards Alastor’s lavish room. You feel dizzy, anticipation like butterflies in your stomach. You don’t have to knock more than once for him to let you in. 
He’s on the edge of the bed, looking like his normal self (as normal as it gets for Alastor)
The taps the spot next to him on the the bed
“Come here, you darling thing!”
you don’t waste a second, and as quickly as you are sitting on his bed, you are sitting on lap. Holding you close, in a vice like grip with one of his arms, Alastor starts talking 
“How was the rest of your day, my dear?” you open your mouth to start talking, you have so much to say to him. That you were a good girl, that you were ready to do anything to make up for laughing at Angel’s stupid idea of seducing Vox. You are ready to beg for your release. to ask how his day was. But you don’t get to utter a word. 
Alastor quickly and swiftly maneuvers you: now your feet are dangling from the bed, your ass and  legs sprawled out across his lap. A powerful arm locking you to him by the small of your back.
Holy fuck.
“Well my day was downright awful! You see I overheard my pretty pet laughing at the prospect of seducing one of my most infuriating enemies. I’m in the peak of my unforgiving rut ,and all I wanted was the shared pleasure of our bodies as I fuck the darling thing senseless!” he pinches the back of your thigh, hard. You blur out a soft, desperate sigh. 
“Of course, the good girl she is, she went begging for my forgiveness. I didn’t fully give it, of course. That was a harsh offense, what my little doe did. But I did have my fill with her” You try to spea-
Alastor audibly shushes you.
“I did leave her all hot and bothered after spilling my cum all over her maddening little body, of course. I contenplated murdering the bastard demon so he wouldn’t get a chance of even knowing about her existence and what she does to me. But I still suffered with the hellish need of fucking her into oblivion, and pondered a lot about divine justice. So, if I had to suffer this entire day because of her offenses I think it’s only right for that darling doe to get her fill of suffering and punishment hmmmm?
 You try to look back to his face, but you feel the familiar sensation of magic wrapping around your throat. The leash, you are so so fucked. You couldn’t be happier about it.
He tugs at the chain, so your skirt rides up and your ass is totally bare for him and your head is buried in one of his fluffy pillows. With a snap of his fingers your panties disintegrate.
You shiver at the thought of what’s happening next, a delicious sensation that flows across your back and ends up inside your cunt, beginning to turn into a wet mess. He’s gonna spank you like the bad girl you were. He’s not going to be gentle about it either. You can’t wait. It’s gonna hurt, it’s gonna sting, it will leave you bruised. It will be deliciously wicked, like all of Alastor’s punishments. 
You feel another surge of magic, behind the powerful green glow something materializes.
Your horsegirl days back on earth don’t let you down. You recognise it instantly. On his previous free hand he’s holding a riding crop. A big, leather pointed riding crop. 
He’s going to literally whip you into submission. You squirm inside his arm. You can’t fucking wait. You’ve made yourself come a few times after the thought of being literally tamed, broke by alastor. 
You whimper. Alastor’s laugh fills the room.
“So this is how this is going to go, pet. I’m going to whip you lovely ass like the ungrateful slut you are and you are going to thank me for it after every crack of the whip. I’m gonna do this as many times as I see fit. Until your ass is as red as my hair. Until you understand what you did. By the time I’m done you will be begging to be punished more. Are we clear?
You can’t look back at him, but you can feel how his red irises make your skin burn. You like to imagine that his eyes did the thing where they soften for a heartbeat, if you blink you miss it. Waiting for your permission, even now. You are able to muffle a “yes, oh please Alastor, yes”. 
“Lovely.” 
crack.
He didn’t even gave you time to process. The whip lands hard on the back of your left thigh. You let out a scream.
“Well?” he asks impatiently as he waits for your “thank you”. Seeing the way the spot where the whip landed turn a lovely shade of scarlet isn’t helping him hold his resolve either.
You wanna do this right, you need this as much as he needs it.
“thank-”
crack. the whip lands on your right thigh, a little lower.
“tha-” 
crack.crack.
 He whips you even harder, cutting the wind as it lands twice on your left buttcheek. Only four cracks down and you are a whimpering mess. You wiggle instinctively on his lap, seeking some friction, some relief. It hurts so bad, but it feels so good. You don’t know if you can take more. You want it anyway. “thank you, thank you” you whimper. Tears wet your face, arousal wets your core adding to the mess from before he even started.
crack. crack.
 He mirrors his movements to your right buttcheek. “thank yo- Holy fuck Alastor”
one more hit, now hitting both of your buttcheks. 
“I’ve told you many times before pet, there’s nothing holy about what I do to you. I’m gonna break you and then breed you. I won’t give you a moment of respite. And maybe by the end, when your legs are shaking from holding that orgasm you have been desperately chasing since this afternoon, I will be merciful and let you find your release. And we will know who’s really losing control here”
How can he do this to you with only his voice? You are not sure you’ve ever been so aroused in your entire life. You’re so wet, you’re staining Alastor’s pants. As close as you will get to marking him.
There’s a draft coming from the forest of his room, it softly kisses your abused skin, making it sting. You want to see the state of your lower body so badly. The way you’re submitting to him right now, the most sweet form degradation possible. Your eyes are clouded with tears, that line between pain and pleasure being blurred in ways only someone like the Radio Demon could cross. He tugs on your leash, to attract your attention from the sinful, unholy sensations you are feeling so openly, back to him.
Alastor drags the leather point of the whip across your throbbing cunt, collecting the obscene amount of wetness there. “By the 7 rings of hell, what do you have here? Are you such a slut that you are creaming at being whipped into compliance? I could do this all night long. Your ass is already red with regret for your actions but I’m not sure you learned your lesson yet.”
crack. The whip this time lands on your juicy cunt. Your hips trash with the sensation, your demon lover’s name escaping your lips like a prayer.You forget to thank him this time, despite your best efforts. 
“Are you so big of an ungrateful brat that you want this sinful punishment to continue? Not even bothering to thank me, in hopes it will end sooner. You know what you are. Nothing but a hungry greedy whore for the Radio Demon” 
crack, crack. One hit on each cheek. “But I already knew that” and with that mocking tone Alastor lands a  masterful final hit on both of your cheeks. He does have a way of proving his point.
You are fucking sobbing now. Tears coat your cheeks, now a colour so vibrant as the rich scarlet the covers your ass. Alastor knows everything that makes you tick. He knows how close you are to cumming. Cumming for only his masterfully inflicted punishment and his voice. Incoherent whimpers leave your lips “please please please” and soft “ohh and aaah, alastor”
He tugs on your leash again, he knows your body like the palm of his hand, and that you are probably entering the mind numbing phase of the pain and the pleasure. But he still wants your undivided attention. He has whipped you into submission, he still needs to fuck you into submission. 
“And you even made the mess of yourself stain my pants! My god, you are pathetic. Delightfully pathetic” 
Alastor gently runs his clawed hands across your ass, the sharp edges making you hiss. He looks in adoration at the masterpiece he inflicted on you. Your ass and thighs a shade of scarlet to rival his hair, the wetness between your thighs a heavenly invitation. Beautiful. Sinful.  Sacred. He will never forget this, and he will make sure that you never forget it too.
“Now, now, we are done with this my little doe” his voice goes extra soft because you can’t see him with your face buried in a soft pillow. “you were so good for me, you always are” 
The softness and sweetness of his praise makes you sob even harder. It’s maddening. 
He gently maneuvers you further into the bed, making space for himself. 
“But now I’m painfully hard, and I still need to bury myself inside that tight throbbing cunt of yours, so deep it will mark. your. soul.” static picks up around you, a delicious omen of what is about to happen. 
Alastor positions himself behind you, immediately entering you and bottoming out. 
His first thrusts are sharp and deep, as to make his promise of marking yourself from the inside real. He pulls your chains so your scarlet ass is presenting itself to him like the most sinful gift. 
Alastor picks up that breakneck pace of fucking, common to him, specially during his rut. He fucks you like he hates you. As hard as he possibly can, to make you know that you are his and his only. That even thinking of someone else, even as a joke, will not be tolerated. You wanted all of him didn’t you? You’ve made that clear, with words, with actions, with the things your body endures for him. So he makes sure to give you that. 
Moans drip from your lips in a crescendo, you are screaming now, you don’t know how long you will last. It feels so good. That delayed gratification drowning you in maddening pleasure. 
“Who do you think is losing control here?” he asks after a painfully sharp thrust. “Me, or the mess of a slut underneath me? That is screaming my name loud enough for the entire pride ring to know how she loves being fucked like a common whore for the Radio Demon,hmm?” 
One hand pulls your leash upwards, the other your hips. He’s even deeper now, you can feel him in your core.
You don’t reply to the question even though you want to, even though you know the answer. 
“Again, since you like being bred like that so much you are not hearing me” he takes all of his cock out and enters you at once. “Who’s losing control here? Me, or my little plaything with the scarlet ass from being whipped into compliance like the pretty little brat she is?” 
You don’t forget to answer him now, you need to cum, desperately. You withheld your building orgasm  for an entire day, you wanted to be good for Alastor. You wanted to be able to take everything he gives you. The pleasure, the pain, the sinful, delicious depraved torture. “Me, I am!” you scream out. 
Alastor’s pace is becoming erratic, you feel the shadows of his growing antlers cover you.
“Again” he tugs at your collars. Another sharp, deep thrust. 
“Me, i’m losing control” 
“And what are you?” his voice is filled with static now, he’s close too.
“Yours! I’m yours Alastor, yours to fuck, to break, to punish” you cry out in sweet pain and pleasure. 
Another tug, Another painfully sharp thrust 
“I’m only yours Alastor” you finish. 
“Good. girl.” he spaces the words out between thrusts, knowing how you relish in them. 
“You can come now” 
Your orgasm comes crashing down. You grip the sheets like a maniac, your legs shaking so hard Alastor needs to hold them in place. You scream so loud you are sure they can hear you in heaven. You hope they can, so they know. So they know this man owns you. So they know you love him. 
Alastor is not far behind, your cunt tightening around him like a vice. He fucks you specially hard and deep know, delayed gratification hitting all at once. He cums so hard inside you, he’s sure he finally marked your soul. The feeling of his cock twitching and spilling inside you, adding to the indescriptible sensation. You are completely over the edge now, you feel weightless, free falling. 
You know Alastor will catch you.
“Ah! There she is” you open your eyes and feel a soft kiss on your cheek. You are lying on top of Alastor’s chest, he cuddles you gently, making lazy circles on your hipbone but still buried to the hilt inside you. He still plans to give you all of his cum, all he has during his rut,after all. 
“woah, that was… amazing” you say after a while.
“Well, I did whip and fuck you to the brink of insanity my dear. And you came so beautifully for me, you passed out. You’re such a sight pet. I will never forget it.” you blush at his words. You feel so happy. 
Alastor kisses your cheek again, and with a final thrust he leaves you with a obscenely wet noise. You are dripping with his cum, it’s running down your thighs, staining the sheets. 
You whimper in complaint. 
“Ah ,don’t be like that” he laughs, is a genuinely happy laugh. “There’s still plenty of where that came from, but I need my darling doe to rest first” he says. He’s lying you gently on the bed as he gets up. “Don’t leave” you whisper. 
He’s out of the bed anyways, and seems to be on his way to do something. You don’t care, you want him back here, holding you. You don't want him to ever let you go.
“Al, i’m truly sorry about today. You know that, right?” You know that I love you, right?  You want to say, but you are scared that confession is a little much for today. You see where he’s headed now. He opens the bathroom door.
“Don’t even think about it, my dear. It’s all water under the bridge” he says in his usual chirpy tone, louder than the noise of the bath running. “Now you just need to promise me that you will never even let the thought of that pathetic demon cross your mind, my love”
my love.
“And if he ever does, you will let me know. So I can fuck those wretched ideas out of your mind” Alastor is walking back to the bed now. He picks you up bridal style and carries you across the room. You can’t help the hiss that escape your lips as your irritated skin touches him. “I know, I know my dear. We will fix that right up. I can’t have my favourite doe hurting. We still have a long way to go until the end of my rut, dearest” you don’t reply, you are just happy. perfectly happy. You could hear Alastor’s voice for days without complaining. “But you did look so perfect with that scarlet ass on my lap. Crying from how much you love what I do to you. I hope you never forget that” 
You both reach the bathtub, he drops you with all the care in the world inside the water.
“I’m so proud of you. I truly am” the water is warm. The soap smells so nice. He lit candles too. You give in to the soothing sensations. You might have tuned out for a bit, cause you hear alastor calling your name so softly… He says it again, slow, soft, gentle, pleading. As to catch your attention, he has something important to say. “You know how precious you are to me, don’t you my little doe?” “yes” you respond, trying to fight the tears that begin to spill down your face ‘
“Oh my darling girl, why are you crying? There’s nothing to cry about. You are here, safe with me. As you will always be, as is your place.”
“Alastor I-I-” your heart swells, you want to say something. You want to say everything you are feeling. How consuming, in the best way possible, your feelings are for him.
But Alastor is always 10 steps ahead. 
“I know, I know darling” he kisses your hand “I feel it too.” he says. It feels like a confession, it sounds like a confession. The look on his eyes is the one of that mystery that hides there every time his voice in the midst of your passion. 
When you,know you know. your mind reiterates. 
“Let me help you dry those tears. Save them for another day” He holds your face and kiss your lips. “The only thing you need to worry about right now is resting and recovering that luscious body of yours, as well as your brilliant, witty mind”
He hands you a sparkly fancy pink soap, and gets up to find the softest sponge he has stored. 
“Now, I hope you like the smell of these candles, cause I’m not letting you out of my sight for at least the next four days!” 
Alastor continues to chat away sweet nothings as he helps you bathe. Maybe it will take a while for the Radio Demon to say those 4 words out loud. He has enough reason for that, inside that beautiful, complicated mind of his. His actions always speak louder than words, your relationship was proof of that. 
Until then, you will always have sacred moments in crowded rooms, you will always have jokes that only the both of you understand. He will always keep sweeping you off your feet in the most deliciously wicked ways possible. 
Right now, you have him by your side after everything that happened, you have his heart too. You are sure of that. So you don’t mind waiting for him.
Good things come for those who wait.
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redeyerhaenyra · 7 months
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Bondage in the hearts of men
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Summary: After a night of drinking, you accuse John of being unfaithful, and punish him.
Warnings: Smut, bondage (John is tied to the bed), dom/sub dynamics, fem reader, fem masturbation, reader leaves John with blue balls, a teeny tiny wee bit of cbt if you squint, ye olde language, no beta we die, let me know if I missed anything!
Notes: I know we all hate the blue contacts so I've specifically written this bratty Prince to have beautiful brown eyes✨️
Wc: 1.1k
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His eyes blinked open, squinting in the morning sun, and he groaned. John's thoughts wandered back to previous night.
Oh... wine and women galore, what fun. If only you had been there... Oh well. He'd find you today and fuck you to make up for your absence last night, despite his oncoming bottle-ache. He moved to brush his curls out of face, only to find his arm did not move. He tried again, and again it did not move. John turned his head, to discover both his wrists had been tied to the bedposts. He tried to move his legs- they had been tied down too. A little panic rose within him, but sizzled out upon realising you, were sat at the opposite end of the bed.
He giggled, still half drunk. You admired the image before you, your Prince tied to his luxurious silken bed, naked apart from stray blankets that covered his groin.
"Good morning." "It's the afternoon." "Oh". John groaned again, "Well, I've never claimed to be an early riser."
You hummed. He licked his lips, and nodded to his restrained wrists; "You've tied me up?" "I have."
He laughed again. "Funny, come on now, release me."
Silence passed between you both, and you did not move, staring him down. He furrowed his brow, "Release me." He tugged on the restraints, now finding he could not break them with brute strength alone. His aura grew whiny, pathetic, his voice went up in pitch. "Release me-!"
You stood up, as if to walk away, he cried out- "-My love!!" "Your love???" You questioned harshly, John whimpered under your glare. "..Yes?"
"That is not what I heard last night." Like a tiger, you stalked your way around the bed. John shivered. "Last night?" "Last night yes. I heard the commotion, I heard you with your whores." You reached over to roughly dig your nails into his cheeks, squishing his mouth together into a pount. He groaned.
"Have you nothing to say?" "Mmf-" You relinquished your grip, he moaned at you. Simpering brat. "Mmmmm, dearest mine, I confess there were many a woman of the night in my company, but I touched not a one of them, "I don't believe you." "Ohhhh I did not! Mayhaps before I had known you I would have, but now?" John grinned up at you. "I can not lie, my sword will only rise for you."
He winked at you, and you scowled. "Come now, I know you like it." "What, that you can't get it up without me?" "Yes," he breathed hoarsely, grinning once again. You moved now to kneel next to where he lay, whispering in his ear;
"Mayhaps I do, even if you are so wanton as to rise even now-" You traveled you hand down his chest as you spoke, down, down, until it was hovering over the tent in the blankets, right where his cock would be. Taking your index finger and thumb, you carefully caressed the head, giving John the false sense of pleasure, before you snatched it away by squeezing your two fingers together tight around his cock.
He threw his head back and moaned. A pathetic display. You held that position for a few agonising minutes- if you squinted you might have been able to spy tears beginning to form in his eyes. Until finally, you let go. He huffed, cheeks flustered, leaning up to kiss at your neck, mumbling about how much he adored you.
You got up, away from his touches, and he whined impatiently.
"Daaarliiinnngg-!" "Cease." The bastard pouted at you, but seemed to forget his annoyance upon seeing you now straddle him, and pull your skirts up. John licked his lips. Your fingers danced at the hem of your bodice- John was pouting again.
"Please." "Hm?" "My love.." "If you do not speak, I will know not what is you crave." You locked eyes with him, gaze firey with lust;
"Your heavenly bosom, let me see, please," Laughing a little at his description, you opted to allow him one small victory, pulling your dress down just below your tits, making a show of it. Pushing your breasts together and rubbing your nipples just out of his reach. His hands clenched, desperate to touch you.
"You are a cruel mistress." "Am I?" "Yes! Taunting me with such a godly vision-" The prince's complaints were cut short, as he spied your hand travel down from your chest to your core, diving under your skirts out of sight. He whined again, thrusting his hips up so that he might gain pleasure from friction- but you saw it coming, and lifted your hips up further than he could reach, earning you another brazen sob from him.
He looked up at you mournfully, as you fell silent, so as to make sure he heard loud and clear the wet squelching of your cunt, as you played with yourself right on top of him. Your head fell back, and you sighed, as you sunk ever deeper into the fells of pleasure.
Then, he smiled at you, almost hopefully; "Ride my face?" It was meant to sound like an offer, despite really being a plea. Your voice was a little stuttered, "No." "No???" "No." "Why not???" "I will not give you the satisfaction." John mewled in despair- you saw through him so well.
Now, it seemed, until you reached your peak, John would be left to sit and watch, sorrowful that he could not join in. You did your best to draw it out, though you could not keep yourself from climaxing for long. It came in waves, soft and warm, rolling like desert dunes inside of you. John watched the ruffling beneath your skirt with a fixed, steely gaze, his brown eyes strangely soft, and unsuccessfully resisting the urge to coo at you as you came down from the high of orgasm.
Phew. The torture was over. You would untie him and he would plunge his length deep inside you until the both of you passed out. Or... that's what John expected. After a few moments to gather yourself, you moved to dismount him.
His shit-eating grin fell when he realised you weren't moving to untie him, you were pulling your dress back together and walking away.
"My love???" "What?" You turned back to him, feigning confusion. A beat of silence, and John realised you planned to leave him there.
"Release me!!!" He yowled out, high pitched like a hungry cat. You turned forwards again, each step you took away from him earned you a threat from him;
"When I am free I am going to tear your clothes off and fuck you till you can no longer beg me to stop!! Till you peak so hard you piss yourself, do you hear me?!? I will ruin you!!!!"
You paid no mind to his threats- they all sounded quite fun anyway. Besides, it was hilarious to hear him still wailing after you even as you were halfway down the hall.
What must the servants think of him?
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yunohawkeye · 5 months
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Their crush falling asleep on them - Headcanons
for Dazai, Atsushi and Ranpo
I‘ve recently started watching BSD and am a little bit obsessed with the characters.
I‘m only at the end of season 2 so I don‘t know all the characters yet but I‘d love to interact a bit with the fandom and even write some more for it.
no beta - we die like men
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Dazai
There‘s a knowing smirk on his lips even before it happens. Or who do you think freed up your schedule after you said that you didn‘t get much sleep that night and made sure to line up your breaks? At first he was planning on having a little fun with your tired self but when he saw how tired you were, he couldn‘t bring himself to be that mean to you today.
When your head hit his shoulder he was already holding out an arm to catch you. As he looked down at your form he couldn‘t stop his heart from skipping a beat. Seeing you laying there against him, not a care in the world, he brushes a stray strand of hair out of your face and lets his fingers rest on your cheek just a little bit too long for it to be a friendly gesture.
He of course knew that he wasn‘t really hiding his feelings for you at the moment but for some reason, he just didn‘t care. Not with this warm feeling in his stomach.
This is Dazai, so of course he already knew you had feelings for him even if you were still either oblivious or in denial. For so long he was content to keep you at a distance, to keep you safe from him and his life. After all, he‘s a dangerous man with many enemies.
But right now, with you leaning against him and such warmth in his chest that made him feel something he never experienced before, he felt happy, content - not something he was used to.
It‘s scary, he feels so vulnerable even though you can‘t even perceive him at the moment, but it was thrilling. And who is he if not a man seeking out the thrills of life.
He moves his fingers away from your face and instead strokes through your hair, murmuring in a volume only you‘d be able to hear, „Rest well, belladonna. You deserve it.“
Even in your sleeping state you could swear that you felt a pair of lips on the top of your head but - that‘s just a dream, right?
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Atsushi
The moment Atsushi feels your head hit his shoulder he jerks up and looks at you with wide eyes, a deep blush adorning his cheeks once he realizes the situation he found himself in. Of course, his initial reaction is to panic as he feels your weight against his own and your head on his shoulder.
Did you mean to do that? Or was this an accident? You couldn‘t have wanted for this to happen, right? Why would you choose him out of all people? This had to be a mistake-
His train of thought stopped when he heard a sigh escape your lips and felt you shift closer to him. A deep breath later he looks at you, hovering his arm around you, although not brave enough to actually touch you. Atsushi didn‘t know if you actually wanted this and he‘d rather die than do something to make you uncomfortable.
Seeking guidance he looks up from your sleeping form and meets eyes with Dazai on the other side of the room. But his mentor's mischievous smile and encouraging nod was all he needed at this moment.
Head red as a tomato he puts his arm around you and ever so slightly pulls you closer. He felt his heart pounding in his chest and was definitely sure you could as well if you were awake. But even in this state Atsushi couldn‘t deny how happy it made him that you trusted him enough to choose him.
As you instinctively snuggled up to him he wasn‘t able to keep his eyes away from your form, studying your features up close and falling more in love with you for every new dimple or imperfection he found.
While he was lost in you he didn‘t notice all the small smiles and smirks directed at you both, neither the low chuckle from Dazai who decided to leave it be for now, but was already preparing to tease Atsushi later.
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Ranpo
If you think your head falling onto his shoulder was a surprise for Ranpo, there‘s definitely a lot you have to learn.
He saw your eyes falling closed for a while now, so when your head came close to his shoulder he was already holding out an arm to catch and cuddle you close without even looking in your general direction.
A small chuckle escapes him as he starts boasting, „Thought you could surprise me by falling asleep on me, eh? Well, think again! I‘m the best detective in the world after all!“
Even though he was caught up in his antics, as soon as he feels you stir against him Ranpo halts in his movements and immediately shuts up. As he looks down at your sleeping form, green eyes visible, a content smile forms on his lips. Don‘t ever think of yourself as weak, because the power you hold over this man is nothing short of extraordinary.
He doesn‘t just stop talking about how he‘s the best detective, so all attention was on you two, Atsushi's eyes as wide as saucers and head red as a tomato as everyone saw Ranpo pressing you close towards him, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
Like being ripped out of a daydream, he snaps out of his trance and looks at his colleagues with his usual smile, „What? Nothing to see here.“ As (almost) everyone starts focusing on their work again, a small smile or blush on their faces while Ranpo leans down to whisper to your sleeping form, „No worries, I‘ll make sure you get the rest you need.“
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chiriwritesstuff · 3 months
Text
The Girl in IT - 5. Pony
A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU
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The LIST │ Series Masterlist
Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)
Chapter Summary: You and Joel decide to keep things under wraps. Murphy's Law has something to say about that...
Chapter Warnings and Tags: No outbreak AU, Boss x Employee Relationship, Sugar Daddy Lite, Smut, SO MUCH SMUT, Age Gap, Older Man/Younger woman, So much dirty talk, Car Sex, Improper use of Tesla autopilot (please, for the love of god, don't use it for something like sex!), Sexting through Slack (Don't do this either!), No beta we die like men!
Word Count: 3.5K
A/N: A shorter one today, I was feeling under the weather for a good portion of last week and wasn't able to really add more to the plot with my medicated brain fog. Hope the smut makes up for it! Sugar is finally feeling more confident and sexy, and we are here for it! Hope you all enjoy!
"Fuck baby, it's only 7:30 in the morning," Joel pants, grabbing onto your hips as you grind harshly against him, your head thrown back in pleasure. You were on him the moment he stepped into the driver's seat, thighs straddling his. He presses open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat as you pull on his curls. “You have no fucking idea just how much I’ve thought about this, Sugar.”
“Oh, I have an idea, it’s written on that list of yours,” you tease, nibbling on the shell of his ear. "I thought we could try out that autopilot feature. You know, for science," you breathe, pushing the fabric of your skirt higher. "I was thinking that this Tesla is due for a christening." You activate full self-driving mode and set the destination to the office, Joel hurriedly unbuttoning your silk blouse, and exposing your bra. His calloused fingertips graze the low-cut lace edge of your demi-cup. "Baby-"
"Do you like it?" you smirk, pushing your breasts further into his grasp, his large hands greedily cupping them. “I saw you looking at them on the mannequin, thought I would model them for you-“
“What happened to my sweet little Sugar?” Joel murmurs as he suddenly grasps your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. “You get a taste of my cock and now you’re desperate for it, huh?”
Joel looks intently at the autopilot GPS, the screen showing that they are approximately 10 minutes away from the office. “Do you think you can make yourself cum before we get there? He pushes your skirt higher, his gaze caught at the glistening spot of wetness on your panties. “Shit, so fucking wet for me.” He hurriedly unzips his jeans, his cock already standing at full attention. He pushes your panties aside, his fingers slowly grazing your slit. “Fuck baby, you gonna let me bless this car? I swear if I don’t get inside you soon I’ll fucking die-“
You notch his tip against your entrance. “We don’t want that now do we?” You whisper, giggling at how ridiculous and desperate you must be sounding. You slowly lower yourself as you grasp at the backrest, Joel’s gaze fixated on how your pussy lips start to slowly take in his cock. “Fuck Joel, you’re so fucking big, I don’t think-“
“Don’t think, baby, just… FUCK!” He shouts as you grasp on his shoulders, fully sheathing yourself to the hilt. His hands grip your hips as you start to grind on him. “Shit, just hold still baby, if you keep doing that I’m gonna cum-“
“Isn’t that what you want?” You pant, bouncing up and down on his length. “We only have 8 minutes left, clocks ticking old man-“ he suddenly thrusts up against you as you scream, pushing the cups of your bra below your breasts. He takes a nipple between his teeth, the flat of his tongue soothing the sting. “Oh fuck!” You shout, arching your back towards his mouth, wanting more.  
You had long fantasized that being intimate with Joel —the man your heart had been hung up on for years—would undoubtedly be the most incredible experience of your life.
This was something else entirely.
“Tell me, baby, how does it feel having an old man sucking on your tits like this?” His thumb goes to your clit, his calloused skin hitting that bundle of nerves just right. “Only I know how to make you squirm like this huh?” He pinches it for good measure and you swear you could come from just that alone. “Tell me baby, who does this pussy belong to?” He says against your breast, hollowing his mouth as he sucks another love bite onto your skin.
“Fuck mark me, Joel, show everyone in the office who I belong to,” you murmur as you start to shake, the feeling of your impending release spreading throughout your body like wildfire. 
“Oh baby you’re so close, I feel you squeezing me so damn tight!” He slams your hips against his as he starts to fuck you in earnest, barely hanging on as you bounce on him like a ragdoll. Your lips meet his in a passionate kiss, all teeth and tongue, wrapping your arms around his neck as he pounds into you with reckless abandon. “Are you gonna cum for me?“ he groans as you completely lose yourself, the car reversing into a stall as you try to catch your breath. "Fuck Joel, I-" you struggle to formulate words as your body comes crashing down, the feeling so delicious it renders you speechless.
"I know, baby, I know," he soothes, "You were amazing," Joel breathes as he leans back, gently cradling your exhausted body against his.
“What about you?” You ask against his throat, lifting your hips. “Let me help you-“
Joel gives you a quick peck on your lips, helping you situate on the passenger seat as he quickly settles himself, zipping up his jeans. "Don't worry about me, Sugar. Ran outta time-"
"... but you're the boss, silly," you tease, reaching over to cup his erection.
Joel groans, swatting your hand away. "As much as I am very tempted, I have an early Zoom meeting with The H Group. Tess will have me by the balls if I don't show up on time." He cups your cheek, his thumb soothing the skin beneath it. "It's still early, why don't you grab something to eat? He slides you his black Amex. "Go crazy, maybe stop by the mall and grab you a little treat?"
"I might as well head in myself, I wasn't able to run reports since Tess decided we should drink ourselves silly yesterday." you smile, smoothing out your skirt. You turn and give Joel a little smirk. "It's a shame you weren't able to come, I always wondered what it would feel like to have your cum leaking out of me as I sit at my desk today..."
"Is that so?" Joel purrs, capturing your lips in a lingering kiss. "Are you gonna walk in with me, or do you want to keep this between us?" he asks, his expression serious. "As much as I am ready to scream from the rooftops that you're finally mine, I understand if you want to keep it under wraps-"
"... and suffer Connie's inevitable interrogation?" you groan, checking your reflection in the mirror. "I think I would like to keep you to myself for just a little bit longer if that's okay."
"It's more than okay, baby. Let's take it one step at a time." He smiles, opening the car door. "Meet me for lunch later? Maybe we can take a longer one, you know, maybe finish what we started?" he suggests, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.
You give him one last kiss, chuckling as he grabs your ass. "Go, before Tess goes on a manhunt!" you tease. Joel kisses your forehead. "I love you, baby girl."  
You beam at him as he gives you a wink. "I love you, too, Joel."
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"So, who's the guy?" Connie whispers, leaning towards you, absentmindedly stirring her coffee in the employee lounge.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," you deadpan, attempting to make your way out of the room before she could corner you. Her arm reaches across the doorframe, a knowing smile plastered on her face.
"Oh, stop playing coy, Sugar. It's written all over your neck!" Connie quips, motioning for you to take a look at the mirror beside you. Your eyes widen in shock at the sight of the numerous hickeys Joel has unknowingly left on your skin. Shades of red and purple adorn your neck like an unintentional pattern, a clear testament to the passionate night you shared. You blush at the sight as Connie sips from her coffee cup, motioning for you to take a seat at the nearest table.
Connie leans back into the plush seat, smirking at you. "So, spill. Who is it?"
"Whatever happened to 'a lady doesn't kiss and tell'?" you reply, crossing your arms. "I don't see how my love life is any of your business-"
Connie scoffs. "What are you, 50? Come on! We're all sluts here!" she exclaims, her eyes widening as she notices Joel walking into the room, clearing her throat. "Good Morning, Mr. Miller!" she says in a syrupy-sweet voice, her body turning in his direction.  
Joel nods towards the both of you, a small knowing smirk at the corner of his mouth. "Good Morning ladies," he murmurs, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "Anything interesting going on with you guys lately?"
"Well, apparently, Sugar got herself a boyfriend!" Connie teases, "She looks like she got eaten alive by the state of her poor neck!"
You shoot Connie a playful glare, while Joel raises an eyebrow in amusement.
"Well," he says, throwing a wink your way, "he must be quite a guy if he managed to convince Sugar to give him a chance." He grabs his iPad, giving both of you a nod as he heads towards the door. "Sugar, think you could swing by my office after my first meeting? I need some... troubleshooting," he says with a pointed look, "and I need it sorted before lunch. Can you handle that for me?"
You try not to blush under his heated gaze, aware of Connie looking at the both of you with her mouth agape. Keep it professional, you tell yourself.
"Uh- Sure, Joel. Just send me a Slack when you're just about done with your meeting, and I'll... head on over," you say weakly, attempting to maintain composure.
"Oh, I sure will," he says with a wide grin. "Ladies," he says once more, Connie whistling as she watches him leave.
"What I would do to have a piece of that," she exclaims, giving you a wink. "It's a damn shame that he's pretty much a monk-"
"A monk?" you quip, raising an eyebrow in confusion. "What makes you think that?"
"I've been working here for the last five years, right?" she half-whispers, leaning towards you. "... and I've seen some things, you know? I know exactly who is banging who in this office, nothing and no one is safe from me, okay?" she smirks, "Joel, on the other hand? now that's someone I can't figure out. No ring on his finger, no photos of anyone except his family on his desk, no plus one at the galas and family days the company throws," she muses, "a fine specimen like him not tied down at his age? He either has a secret sugar baby or moonlights as a monk. There is no way a man like him goes without for that long," she sighs, stirring her coffee. "I'm beginning to think he's celibate. Anyway, about your mystery man-"
"Sugar?" Tess suddenly interjects, her head popping up through the doorway. "The engineers are having a hard time accessing the server from the site, do you think you could head over and troubleshoot?"
"Sure!" you exclaim a little too excitedly, gathering your things, thankful for the interruption. "Let me just grab a few things from my office and I'll head on over!" 
"Sugar, wait, we aren't done yet-" Connie stammers, standing from her seat.
"...aren't you supposed to be manning the phones, Connie?" Tess interrupts her, a pointed look in her eyes, as you swiftly exit the room. You mutter a hasty "thanks" to Tess while squeezing past her.
"Now, Connie!" you hear Tess yell from down the hall, chuckling to yourself. Serves her right, you think. You run to your office, sending Joel a quick message through Slack:
Sugar (IT) Tess is sending me on-site, I might not be back before lunch. Maybe I could pop-in a little later? Let me know, ok?
You quickly pocket your phone, grab your purse, and hurriedly make your way out the door, giving Connie a semblance of a wave before she has the chance to stop you.
Later, as you kick yourself for taking longer on-site than you intended, you forgo your lunch break. Opting to make it back to the office as soon as possible and back into Joel's arms, you don't want to think about how the subcontractors talked over you and didn't take you seriously at all, their constant hollering and cat-calls make you want to gouge your eyes out. You sigh as you slam your car door, dragging your feet back towards the office. This day can't get any worse, right?
Connie leans in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as you stroll into the office. Her hand cups her mouth as she shares the latest gossip with Jesse in Engineering.
"Have you heard? Apparently, Joel is getting cozy with someone in the company," she discloses, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Did you catch that Slack message? Wow, what a lucky girl—"
"Or lucky guy," Jesse interjects with a smirk. "'Baby' could be anyone."
Connie turns her attention to you, a playful grin on her face. "Hey Sugar, what's your take? I'm thinking Joel is packing an 8-incher—"
Your eyes widen, and you interrupt in a huff, trying to hide your embarrassment. "What are you even talking about?"
"The Slack message! The admin channel is blowing up!" Connie exclaims. 
"Don't tell me you missed it on your phone? I haven't seen this many replies since Tommy accidentally sent a dick pic last year. Didn't think Joel had it in him—"
Panic sets in as you pull out your phone, unlocking it to find hundreds of Slack notifications. Your eyes widen in shock. "OH MY GOD!"
#MCG ADMIN 50 members Joel Hi baby, someone's missing you today ;P 0003.png - image sent to #MCG ADMIN He's been waiting for your sweet pie, why don't you head on over here and warm him up... Baby? Playing coy with me now  Don't be shy... Tommy JOEL?   WRONG CHANNEL WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? (I mean, got damn but WTF) Connie (Reception) OH. MR. MILLER YOU DOG YOU 🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆 Frank (Interior Design) Well.   Ain't that something. Huh. Wow. WOW. 🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆 Bill (Civil) FRANK! Eugene (Electrical) Well. That's a fine piece 🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆 you have there, brother. Sarah (HR) DAD?? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND? THANK GOD ELLIE IS NOT ON THIS CHANNEL! Could you please do yourself a favor and delete that? I'm just going to keep messaging  Guys, please disregard Joel's messages. I would like to remind you that sending images of this nature is prohibited and NOT acceptable. Oh my GOD. Tommy Sugar? can you please delete these messages? SUGAR? Why are you not replying?   Hello?? Tess Shit. I sent her off-site because the engineers were having issues. FUCK. Sarah? Do you know her computer login by chance? Maybe we could delete it from her computer.
"Oh, shit," you exclaim, hastily shoving your phone into your purse. You make a beeline for your office, slamming the door shut behind you. Leaning against the door, you slide down to the floor, your heart pounding in your chest.
"What the hell, Joel? How can you be so careless?" you whisper in frustration, closing your eyes as you try to collect yourself. 
You bring your phone up once more, scrolling through the hundreds of messages in the admin slack channel. "First things first," you mutter yourself, you click on the photo in question. It's a mirror selfie, Joel's jeans pushed down his thighs, his prominent bulge standing at full attention. He's pursing his lips, looking at the mirror, his eyes full of want and lust. "Holy shit Joel," you breathe, your breath caught in your throat at the sight.  Is the air off?  
Right. You need to delete this.
You hover over the trash icon, the notifications still popping up in the background, so much so that you don't bother to dismiss them.  
Connie (Reception) Has Christmas come early for us all? 🍆🍆🍆🍆 Who is the lucky girl? (Is it me? am I that girl?) Sarah (IT) That's enough, Connie.   Has Sugar come in yet?   Connie (Reception) Yep.   She's in shock. Ran into her office. I bet you're drooling over that pic, huh Sugar?  I know you want a piece of that fine ASS  Do us a favor and don't delete it. Sarah (IT) Connie. Stop.  Sugar, please delete the picture.
You hover over the photo. Before you can lose your nerve, you click on the download button. It's not like it's wrong, he is your boyfriend? lover? after all.  
[Photo 0003.png has been deleted by the system admin.] Connie (Reception) OH COME ON! Tommy THANK FUCK Tess  Connie, I'm going to need you to come to my office.   NOW. Jesse (Engineering) Well, that's all she wrote, everyone! Whoops Connie, that's what happens when you fuck around and find out, it's off to the principal's office for you! Sugar (IT) The photo has been deleted and all messages concerning this issue have been logged and sent to Tess and Sarah for review. You guys should be ashamed of yourselves. Tess Sugar, I'm going to need admin access to the channel just so we can prevent further inappropriate photos and messages from being sent.  Frank (Interior Design) Oh, come on Sugar. I know you took a peek. It's okay, it's a safe space here at Miller Construction Group... I know I definitely looked. (Sorry Bill) Bill (Civil) FRANK! Leave the poor girl alone. Thank you for your service, Sugar. Don't you all have work to do? Connie (Reception) OH COME ON SUGAR. DON'T BE LIKE THAT! (Is it you? you can tell me, girl. Is that why you had all of those hickeys? We're all friends here.) Tess CONNIE. NOW.
You scramble to your desk, pulling up Slack as you hover over to the direct message tab, looking for Joel.  
Direct Message to J.Miller Sugar (IT) Joel? Are you ok? Joel Uh... Sugar (IT) Joel, what were you thinking? Joel  I was thinking about you. Fuck. I messed up, baby.  I wasn't thinking and I was so fucking horny... and now I got Connie sending me nudes. Sugar (IT) I wouldn't be surprised if it's your new contact photo on her phone. Joel So, what did you think of it?
You take a look at the photo again, the mere sight of his cock making your mouth water and your panties wet. Granted, the grainy photo has nothing on seeing his dick in person, but you can see the appeal to it. Joel has a fantastic cock, and what's better is that it's all yours. If the office wasn't on high alert right now, what's to stop you from strolling into his office and mounting his dick, taking everything that he's got? You get goosebumps just thinking about it. Even if it's been a few days since you lost your virginity to the man you've been obsessing over for a good portion of the last decade, you just can't seem to get enough.  Is that what desire is like? you think to yourself, shifting in your seat and rubbing your thighs in a weak attempt at relief. It's not like you're about to touch yourself...
My door is closed, normal people would knock, right?
Poor Joel, you think. All he wanted was to show you how excited he was, and now the good majority of his employees know just how well-endowed their boss was. It's embarrassing, no matter how good this man looked. 
I should make it up to him. 
You take a look at the La Perla bra that you have on under your blouse, the purple lace demi cut barely covering your breasts, just the way Joel likes it, you muse, chuckling to yourself. Taking one last look at your closed office door, you angle yourself just right, enough for your nipple to graze the edge of the lace. You bite your bottom lip, taking a few snaps to make sure you get it just right. 
Taking a deep breath, you look at the photos.
Damn. I look... hot? Sexy, even?
With a shaky hand, you go back to the thread, pulling up the upload photo option and clicking on what you think is the most flattering photo, trying not to be weirded out looking at half-naked photos of yourself.  Yeah. This will do.
Sugar (IT) Are you busy right now? 0345.png photo sent to #mcg-admin  I'm so wet for you, Daddy.
Wait.  Your eyes take a look at the thread, your eyes widening when you realize that you didn't go back to the direct messages but back to #mcg-admin.  HOLY-
Frank (Interior Design) WELL DAMN, SUGAR. Are we all just sending illicit photos of ourselves now?   Should I drop my pants and join in on the fun? Eugene (Electrical) GOT DAMN. NOW THATS WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT WHO KNEW THAT YOU WERE HIDING ALL THAT??! Jesse (Engineering) HOLY SHIT WOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOW Bill (Civil) FRANK! Sarah (HR) WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE? [Photo 0345.png has been deleted by Sugar (IT)]
Well, you think to yourself. So much for keeping things a secret.
Direct Message to Sugar (IT) Joel Baby, I think they know. Sugar (IT) YOU THINK??
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