#it's just sitting in my docs staring at me

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

The All-Star Game

Batter Up Chapter 5

Pairing: Baseball player Joel Miller x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: This is not how Joel wanted to spend his All-Star Game, at least you make the best of it for him. Warnings: smut, fluff, family dynamics, nurse/patient roleplay in the shower, oral (m receiving), cum eating, unprotected p in v sex (reader has a previously discussed IUD... be safe), a doctor mistakes reader for Joel's wife. Words: 4,900

A/N: Been fighting writer's block, twelve hour work days, and total brain fry. Thank you for being so patient with my lack of updating folks. Not gonna lie, I read through my first piece Golden Walkway earlier and was like "how TF is my first ever ff/smut piece that good?!" while I'm absolutely banging my head against the keyboard trying to write out four sentences tonight. The biggest shout out to @frannyzooey for filling my Google Doc with notes and simplifying my gobbledegook. I absolutely do not feel worthy of your kindness. *insert Wayne's World not worthy GIF*

Masterlist Playlist

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Day 1 Travel Day For All-Stars

And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate

Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake

I shake it off, I shake it off

“God damnit,” Joel growls. “Why do I always forget that that’s your damn alarm?”

“Mmph, it works. Wakes me up.” You sit up and stretch before reaching to pick up your phone.

The same phone you stared at while willing yourself to sleep, attempting to ignore the circling "what ifs" of the dreaded conversation you knew you had to have with your parents, only able to do so after focusing on the soothing sound of Joel's breathing.

You get up, slip on his shirt and crack open the curtains letting the morning sun peek in. 

“Guess I should look at my phone, hm?” Joel slowly sits up and settles his back on the pillows while you readjust, his big brown eyes disappearing behind the tired crinkles that line the sides as he lets out a rumbly yawn.

“Might be a good idea, I’m sure Sarah wants to talk with you.” Running a hand through his sleep tousled hair, you give him a kiss.

“Called her on the way home yesterday, let her know not to worry and that I’d be fine without her.” He sighs. “I think she knows I have somebody.”

“Hm. I didn’t want to get into it this soon, but I’m going to have to talk to my mom at least. She knows I’m here in Philly and I didn’t get on my flight.”

“Well, shit,” he grimaces. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be good. I texted her saying I’m fine and I’d talk to her tomorrow. Just nervous, but at this point, there’s no going back…they were already going to find out today. So instead of doing it in person, I’m just going to have to do it over the phone.”

“Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out.” His hand grabs yours and squeezes it.

“We will, I just want to have a nice morning with you, I'll deal with them after lunch.”

“But first, coffee?”

“But first, coffee.”

——

“Well, here goes,” you dial your mom’s number and hit the green phone circle. She picks up after two rings. Crap.

“Hey mom,” you nervously swallow, trying to sound chipper. Joel’s hand soothingly pets your back, grounding you. 

“Hi sweetie, what’s happening? Your dad and I are very confused.”

“Yeah, um about that, is dad with you?”

“He is… is everything okay?”

“Yes, everything is good. Um, could you put me on speaker?” You haven’t had to feel this level of nervousness with your parents in almost twenty years. 

“Hi Duck, what’s going on?” Your dad calls you by your nickname, so he’s not mad… yet. “Was looking forward to seeing you, I don’t know why you’re not here. Mom and I didn’t hear from you, so she checked your location last night and you’re in Philadelphia? Not New York, not the airport, not Texas, but Philadelphia, why is that? We were worried, Duck.”

“I know, I’m sorry about that. So, things got… complicated. I was packing for the airport and was watching the Liberties game when, um, Joel got hurt.” You exhale, trying to calm yourself by focusing on the feel of Joel’s hand on your skin. “I, uh, drove down to help take care of him because, um, he and I have been, together since, well, November.” You breathe out the latter word, hoping your quiet breath will hide the shame in keeping Joel a secret for that long, for not respecting your parents and your own relationship. You feel so small, so fragile, so young, confessing to your mom and dad like you’re in trouble. 

“November?” The only word your mom responds with. Your dad stays quiet, and you’re reminded of why you wanted to do this over the phone. So you wouldn’t see their expressions. Although, maybe if they were here, they would be able to see the way Joel looks at you, how happy you are, how perfect he is for you.  

“Yes, um, remember when I flew in for your birthday? We ran into each other, and I don’t know, it just worked out. I know this is a lot.” 

Joel’s hand lands on your shoulder, tugging you back to lay against him, his arm wrapping around your chest as he presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.  You love him so much, you let a tear slip out as you wait for any sort of validation. 

“So, you and Joel Miller have been together for, what, nine months? And we’re only finding out about it now?” You try to gauge your dad’s voice, sensing disappointment, praying it’s not anger. “Is it because you got caught at his place? When were you going to tell us?” 

Okay, there’s anger. 

“Tonight actually, um, Joel and I were going to tell you tonight at dinner. I’m really sorry and I know this is complicated because there’s a bit of history between him and you, but daddy, I love him.”

“Bit of history?” he replies, incredulous. “He was my star player for twenty years, he was rude to the media, coaches, and reporters and I always had to pick up that mess. He was great on the field and in the clubhouse, but he was a pain in my ass most of the time, and now you’re telling me you’re in love with him… and have been for almost a year?”

You bite your lip as you will the tears away from your eyes. You’re so thankful for Joel’s touch right now. He’s respecting you, but you can tell by his breathing growing louder and quicker that hearing your dad’s raised voice is upsetting him. Maybe it’s better to be not in person, that way Joel doesn’t run the risk of throwing your dad through a wall. 

“Yes,” you croak out. You feel like a child answering him. Eyes downcast, tears rolling down your cheeks.

“And all of a sudden, right after he’s no longer on my team, he’s your boyfriend?”

“I’m sorry dad, it’s not something we planned on, it just… happened and I know you’re mad and I’m sorry that it took this long for you to find out and I’m sor—“

“Sweetie,” your mom’s voice breaks through your anxious words, “are you happy?” 

“Yes,” you whisper, Joel’s arm squeezes you tighter, “incredibly.”

“Well, that’s all we want for you. If it’s with Joel, then we’re good, right?”

You breathe out a sigh of relief at her words, her acceptance, her demand of your dad to recenter himself and his ire. You turn to look at Joel and see tears sitting in the waterline of his eyes that are focused on you. He gives you a small smile. 

How could you not love this man? How could anybody doubt the power of what you two share?

“That is what we want for you, but I am concerned. People will have questions. Joel is a part of this team’s history and now my daughter is dating him.”

“I understand that.”

“I know you do, Duck. You can make your own decisions, you haven’t lived under our rules for a very long time. I trust you. As long as you are happy and you understand that there will be roadblocks up ahead with the public eye, then I can be on board. People talk, the internet talks and you’re signing yourself up for a lot of people talking about you. I know you realize that, but does Miller?”

“I do, sir,” Joel says, the first words spoken from him, with the “sir” sternly emphasized. “Look, I don’t care what anybody has to say, people’s opinions never mattered to me. I know you’re well aware of that. I love your daughter. She has been with me every step of the way since I learned I was no longer a Capital. I apologize that this is all at once ’n that this is how you’re finding out, but I do not apologize for the way I feel about your daughter. I love her.”

You watch Joel’s lips as he speaks his confession to your parents, wondering how you could be so lucky to have found him and to have his heart the way that you do.  

“Listen, I know you two are smart, and Miller, you know at the end of the day I respect the hell out of you. If my daughter is happy, that’s all I can hope for as her father. As much as I worry about her, I know she can make her own decisions.” 

“As a father to a college student now, I understand that sir. You have my word that I will stop at nothing to keep your daughter happy.” 

“We know that Joel,” your mom’s soft voice soothes the conversation. “I just wish we would have known about this sooner. I’m a bit upset that it took you long enough to let us know. We just want you to be aware of what issues might arise for you two.”

“Whatever happens, it’s just white noise to us. It’s my choice—it’s our choice,” you say. “We’ve talked about everything before, we are fully aware.” 

“I can’t tell you what to do Duck, Mom can’t tell you what to do. Miller’s a good man, underneath it all, I know that. If you are happy with him, then we are happy for you.”

“This is the happiest I’ve been.”

“We’re glad sweetheart, so glad,” your mom chokes out. At least they’re happy tears. “We’ll be here for you, always. I guess we won’t see you this week.”

“No, Joel needs me, I don’t want to leave him.” 

“Alright then, feel better Miller, we love you Duck,” your dad’s voice softens. “Take care and keep us updated, okay?”

“Thank you sir,” Joel respectfully responds.

“I will. Love you guys, bye.” You end the call and let out a big sigh of relief. 

One down, two more to go. 

“I’m proud of you baby,” Joel breathes out against your hair.

“Heh, thanks. I think?”

“I know you were nervous.”

“Oh, yeah. Still kinda dumb how I’m intimidated by them but… I think it all worked out in the end.”

“It did baby. Why does your dad call you Duck?”

“It’s short for duck snort.”

“...Like the baseball term?”

“Yep, I used to be a crazy toddler and thought my parents chasing me was funny. One day my dad called me a duck snort because I’d always get away and ‘win’, and it kinda stuck.”

He smiles, stroking your cheek. “That’s so fucking cute. ”

“Speaking of daughters, when are you going to tell Sarah?” 

“Later. I’m all phoned out for the time being, want to rest my back and take a nap. That one was a little tense.”

“A nap sounds amazing,” you stretch and adjust to put your head on Joel’s chest, your favorite pillow.

——

“Joel,” you blink your eyes open, “the sun’s going down. I think we overslept.”

“Mm, I’m up. Been up.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

“You’ve had a long couple of days, wanted to let you sleep.”

“You’re due for your pills,” you yawn, getting up.

“I am.”

He winces as you hand him his medicine and glass of water. 

“You alright?” 

“Been better, just really hurts right now. Plus, I should call Sarah before it gets too late. I just texted Tommy and told him.”

“Oh?” You turn on Joel’s heating pad and hand him the remote.

“Yeah, he texted me and asked me how I was getting along and if my nurse was hot. Told him about everything. He was happy for me and congratulated me on my hot nurse.”

“He’s ridiculous,” you shake your head. “I’m going to go make dinner, I’ll leave you to call Sarah.” You kiss the top of his forehead.

“Thanks baby.” 

——

You quietly step into Joel’s room holding a tray with his plate full of steak, rice and broccoli, Joel’s go to in season meal.

“Hey sweets, my dinner is here. I gotta go.”

“Can I—can I say hi to her?”

You smile at Sarah’s sweet voice as Joel looks past his phone to you. You nod and walk over placing the tray on Joel’s lap.

“Sure, here she is.”

Well, this is new. You’ve never been with anybody who has a child, let alone a college aged kid. You know Sarah, you love her, you used to chase her around the club box years ago. 

You grab the phone, she’s gotten so beautiful. Same brown eyes as her dad, deep dimples as she smiles, long curly hair. She’s a young woman now, just as gorgeous as her dad. 

“Hi Sarah, nice to see you again.”

“Oh my god! Hi! It is! Wish it wasn’t through the phone but I, just, I wanted to say that, I-I am very happy that Dad finally found somebody and it’s you!”

“Well, I am too.”

“He told me you’re doing a better job than I ever would at taking care of him, so I don’t need to tell you to take good care of him.”

“I try,” you chuckle. 

“Thanks for saying hi to me, I’ll let you go, I know you have dinner!”

“Of course Sarah, any time. I’ll hand you back to your dad now.”

You keep your smile as you hand the phone back to Joel. You don’t know if you’ve ever seen him this happy before, eyes alight with a large grin on his face. You never noticed how his dimple matches Sarah’s. 

Your shoulders feel lighter now that the most important people know, and accept, your love. 

The secret’s out. 

⚾️⚾️⚾️

Day 2 Home Run Derby

Greeting Doctor Arroyo with a smile, you leave him in the living room to wait. 

"Joel," you peek your head into the bedroom. "He's here."

"Send him in," he replies, sitting up higher.

Showing the doctor the way, he thanks you. 

"Thanks, Mrs. Miller."

You let out a little laugh. "Not the wife, just the girlfriend."

Giving you a small smile, he leaves you in the hallway with thoughts of being Mrs. Miller swirling in your head.

After the doctor leaves, you sit on the edge of the bed.

“So, what’d he say?” 

“Still stuck like this for the next few days. Wants me to do some stretches and move around more, going to check on me in two more days again. Said I’m recovering well, told him it’s because I have a good nurse.” 

“You do have a good nurse… that’s better news than I was expecting at least.”

“Yep, and he took the bandage off from my shot so I can finally take a shower.” 

“Oh?”

“Oh is right,” his eyes darken, “but you’re gonna have to wash me, nurse.”

“I can do that, not only am I your nurse but I’m also your wife according to Dr. Arroyo.”

“Oh?”

“Oh is right,” you wink. “I told him I’m your girlfriend.”

“Should’ve told him you’re not my wife… yet.”

“I’m happy with girlfriend right now Mr. Miller.”

“My sweet independent girl.” 

“Eh, your sweet independent nurse now. Come on, let’s get you washed Mr. Miller.”

“Yes ma’am.”

——

Joel hobbles into the bathroom as you adjust the temperature of the shower. 

“It’s hot, too hot, just like you like it Mr. Miller.”

“God, I love it when you call me that. Now nurse,” he smirks, “come help me with my clothes.”

“Right away Mr. Miller,” you reply, sauntering over to him.

“What a pretty nurse you are, have a feeling you’re going to take REAL good care of me,” he raises his arms over his head as you lift his shirt up.

“I’ll sure try to take good care of you Mr. Miller. Did you want me to remove your shorts?”

“Yes nurse.”

You lean forward, grabbing the waistband of his pants to lower them down, running your gaze appreciatively over his half-hard cock.

You look up and angle your eyebrow at him. “I can see you’re quite excited for your shower Mr. Miller.”

“Mm.” 

“Go ahead and get in, it’s all ready for you.” 

“But you’re not. Take your clothes off.”

“Now, Mr. Miller, I can’t get naked for you, but I can take this off.” You slip the straps of your dress down your arms and shimmy out of it, leaving only your white cotton bra and underwear on. “You know, gotta stay decent while taking care of my patient.”

He hums in appreciation, taking in the sight. Turning, he steps into the shower with a groan of contentment.

“Feel good?” You ask grabbing a wash cloth. 

“Very.”

He leans forward, placing his arms on the wall and stretches his back as the water hits his skin. Water trickles down the deep plains of his spine, the strong muscles of his back gleaming under the sheen of water. You follow the river that falls from his neck, down his back bone, past the two lower back dimples you love, past the slight curve of his behind and down his hairy legs. He is all man… your man. It’s a shame all the water that lands across his body is wasted on the drain. 

“Is the temperature good?”

“S’perfect,” he grunts.

“Want me to scrub you sir?”

“Heh,” he turns his head to look at you, “with a nurse that looks like you? ‘Course I do.”

The drops of water sear your skin as you step into the water.

“Jesus Joel, it’s hot in here.”

“Mm,” he reaches over and turns the water cooler before turning around, his eyes darkening as he notices the fabric of your bra cups has turned see-through. “Better?” His eyes stay on your chest.

“Better. Now, let’s get you washed, sir.”

“I’m all yours.” 

You grab Joel’s bar of soap, lathering your hands up with the eucalyptus scented bar. Your hands run across his chest leaving lines of suds along his skin, and he lets out a small groan as you rub soapy circles over his stomach. 

He reaches a hand up and pinches your nipple underneath the sheer wet fabric. 

“Feel good sir?”

“Very. Such a good nurse.”

You step closer to him, his hard cock jutting against your stomach as you wash his arms. Your fingers press tight along his biceps and his shoulders, releasing the tension.

“Fuck,” Joel breathes out, “you’re driving me crazy like this.” 

“Well, get ready, I need to wash your legs and…” you wrap your hand around his erection, “this… sir.”

“Jesus Christ,” he groans and shakes his head. “Go ahead nurse.”

You reach around him and grab the soap before kneeling on the tile floor. 

Your soapy hands glide along Joel’s legs, his calf muscles firm under your touch, his thighs soft as you move closer to Joel’s hard cock dripping water and precum. You move your hands along the back of his thighs, cradling the bottom of his ass cheeks before pushing him forward and sealing your mouth over his cock. 

“CHRIST!” Joel’s shout echoes across the bathroom, his hands splaying against the glass.  

Pulling back, you look up.

“You alright? Is this too much?”

“No, no sweetheart,” his eyes soften as he reaches down and holds your cheek, “it felt really good. Go on baby,” Joel leans against the shower wall, “prove to me I’m your favorite patient.”

A long groan escapes Joel’s mouth as you suck the tip of his cock into your mouth. You take him deeper in, sucking the water off of his length as he grabs a handful of your wet hair, your mouth slurping along his length. You clench your thighs together as you feel your cunt throb with arousal.

“That’s it, that’s it,” he chants. 

Water dripping off of Joel’s skin pelts your face as he fills your mouth, your nose brushing against the coarse hair of him there, his cock repeatedly brushing the back of your throat causing a string of saliva to drool out of your mouth.

“Touch yourself, touch your pussy while you suck me baby.”

Your hand reaches underneath your soaked cotton panties, your fingers ghosting across your swollen clit. You moan as you press down and swirl around the bundle of nerves.

His hips jut forward when you hollow your cheeks around him sucking as you bob your head along his length, your free hand cradling his balls and massaging the soft skin of them, bringing him to the brink of his orgasm.

“So good baby, fucking hell,” his grip on your hair tightens, “going to give you my cum soon if you keep that up.” 

Your eyes look up to him, he tilts his head down and gives you a blissed out half smile, water cascades down his face and falls onto your skin. The way he looks at you, the line on his forearm straining as he holds your hair, his warm cock stretching your mouth open, the feel of water dripping down your throat mixed with the taste of Joel. The sensation is too much, you whimper around Joel’s cock as you orgasm. Your fingers drown with your arousal, your mouth goes slack around him as warmth spreads through your limbs. Your hand collects the hot slick that leaks out of you, spreading it all over Joel’s shaft, pumping him with your fist as you suck the tip of him. 

“Close,” he pants, “lemme cum in that mouth, wanna see your mouth filled with me.” 

You nod and moan as you tighten your grip and suck harder.

He chants your name as he empties his release into your open mouth, the last spurt of him landing on your outstretched tongue.

He untangles his hand from your hair, running it down your face to grab your chin and angle it up.

“Swallow it baby.” 

His blown out brown eyes watch in worshiping awe as you seal your mouth shut and gulp down the salty taste of him before licking your lips. 

“All good Mr. Miller?”

“Quite… best nurse I ever had.” 

—-

“He reminds me of you,” you muse, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl as you and Joel watch the Austin Capitals’ rookie phenom James Neal hit ball after ball over the fence of Capitals Stadium. 

“He better. He’s my replacement.” Joel grumbles. 

“How do you feel about not being there?” 

“Tonight isn’t as bad, I always hated the Derby, having to sit on the field and play nice with the cameras. Tomorrow is going to suck.”

“I know it will, I’m sorry this is happening to you. You deserve everything this season. I know everything hasn’t gone the way you’ve wanted but I couldn’t be prouder of how you’ve handled it.”

“Don’t think I’d be able to do it without you baby,” he kisses the top of your head as James Neal hits his twentieth home run over the fence. 

⚾️⚾️⚾️

Day 3 The All-Star Game

And the first pitch of the sixth inning is a strike. Scott steps back into the box, swings… and a miss. Strike two. Bridges winds up, and Scott hits a ground ball to first and—OH! Reynolds misreads it and it gets past him, two runs score. The American League now leads by two in the sixth! 

“I would’ve caught that,” Joel bitterly says. 

“I know you would’ve All-Star,” you console, leaning against him and wrapping an arm around him. 

“Mmf, you can’t lay on me like that.” 

“Sorry, does it hurt?”

“No, not even close. Just… feels real good having you all naked and pressed up against me like that.”

“Sorry.”

Joel plants his hand against your back, keeping you from moving away. 

“Stay, I like it. If I was on that field right now I couldn’t feel you like this.”

“Oh yeah?” Your hand runs a trail down his shorts and grips the heft of him. “Definitely wouldn’t be able to feel this.”

“Definitely not,” he groans. 

“Definitely couldn’t pull your shorts down and touch you if you were playing right now.”

“No,” he grunts, lifting his hips up allowing you to remove his shorts. 

You wrap your hand around his half hard cock. “And surely, I couldn’t jerk you off if you were on that field.” 

“Fuck, no,” he grits, hardening under your touch.

“Did you want to watch the game in peace or do you want me to take care of you?” 

“Take care baby,” he kisses you, “fuck this game.”

“Yeah, fuck this game.”

Your body overheats as you slide down Joel, straddling his thick thighs, taking his cock in hand, rubbing it along your dripping cunt and slowly settling yourself on his length.

Joel’s lips part, his big brown eyes staring at you as a long moan leaves your mouth savoring the feel of his cock stretching you. 

“You feel so good,” his head thuds against the pillow. “I haven’t felt your pussy like this in forever. Fucking missed it.” 

Your hips rock back and forth still adjusting to the size of him as he grabs your tits and massages the weight of them in his calloused hands. 

“This pussy was made for me, wasn’t it?”

You’re too blissed out to answer, too overwhelmed by the size of him. All you can muster is an isolated nod and whine arching your back while he pinches and pulls your nipples into peaks. 

“You gonna fuck me baby? You gonna fuck me like the All-Star I am? Come on baby, prove to me I’m your All-Star.”

You rise and fall on his cock, grinding your hips down each time he stuffs you full. 

“Look so good like this baby,” Joel juts his hips up “you’re the only fucking trophy I need.” 

You lean in as your thighs begin to tremble bringing his hand to your lips. Joel’s blown out pupils focus on your tongue as it traces the circles of his tattoo.

“Fucking perfect,” he rasps. 

Your pussy clenches at his praise, Joel’s cock hits the sensitive spot you want to feel him the most. 

“Cum for me, let me feel you strangle my cock, cum for me baby,” Joel’s gravelly voice encourages as he pulls his hand from your mouth, tugging you down against his chest. 

Your cunt flutters around him as your orgasm shatters into you. Your mouth going slack, drool falling out and landing on Joel’s chest as you scream his name and writhe on top of him.

“That’s my good girl, that’s it, fuck, you’re fucking gripping me baby, not going to last long like this.”

You summon as much energy as you can leaning forward to lick the golden skin of his neck as you grind your hips against his, your soaked pussy pumping his cock.

“That’s it baby, that’s it,” he pants. “Gonna cum.” 

Joel lets out a long groan as his hips jerk up into you, warmth blooming through your core as his cock empties into you. You both stay frozen collectively catching your breaths as you come down from your shared bliss. His cock slips from you as you lift up to kiss him, both of your spends dribbling down between your thighs.

“Did I make you feel like the All-Star you are?”

“Mm,” he smiles, pulling away, ”I love being a baseball player sometimes.”

You turn towards the TV. “It’s tied now.” 

“Mm, for the first time ever, I really don’t care.”

You stay cuddled in his bed for the remainder of the game, today is definitely your favorite All-Star Game experience.

Well folks, that’ll do it for this year’s All-Star Game here in beautiful Austin, Texas. The National League wins in a 4-3 victory over the American League. We’ll see you next year. 

“Good game, I really enjoyed the sixth inning.”

“Guess it’s good we get home field advantage in the World Series,” Joel shrugs.

“Always thinking ahead.” “Always. Had a plan for a whole thing after the game but life had other plans. I, uh, grabbed this when I was changing earlier,” Joel opens his bedside table and pulls out a small gray suede box.

Your heart skips a beat at the implication of what it could be. There’s no way.

“It’s okay baby, don’t panic, it’s not that. Now that everybody knows, I want you to be able to wear me wherever you go.” 

He opens the box, a delicate gold necklace with a pendant of his number hangs from it.

“Joel,” you breathe out as tears prick your eyes, “it’s so… beautiful.”

“That first night I had the chain was the night I had you in the back of that club. I tried for so long to stay away from you, and yet you were always there, like some forbidden treasure I could never have… now we’re together and this is the happiest I’ve ever been.” Joel swipes the tears from your cheeks as they fall, “I love you so much sweetheart.”

“I love you too,” you smile as you take the box and remove the necklace. 

“Put it on baby, lemme see it.”

You clasp the necklace behind your neck and lower your arms. Joel pets the gold pendant against your skin. 

“Beautiful,” Joel whispers.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller/reader #joel miller fan fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #batter up #tlou au #pedro pascal character fanfiction #baseball au #baseball Joel

[dfortrafalgar]

Envious

Law x OC

Law is caught red-handed being jealous over someone who isn't even his... yet.

A/N- i wrote this a few months ago specifically for my own OC! I attached a cringe reference pic of her at the bottom of this fic, and me being my own worst critic, i really need to redraw her better at some point LOL. crazy how much you can change after only a few months, but i digress. I'm sorry it's been taking me so long to work on requests, so in the meantime I'm going to go back to posting some things that have been sitting in my google docs not yet published to here. thank you all for your patience!!!

Law was a calm man.  He was a level-headed man.  He thought before he spoke, meticulously planning every moment of his life down to the most minute details.  He was stone-faced, unmoving, unwavering.

And yet, he sat at the table in the Polar Tang’s galley, a coffee mug gripped so hard in his hands his knuckles were white, as his sharp, golden eyes stared across the room from him.  His jaw was clenched as tight as a vice.

“Captain, what in the world is your problem?”  Across the table with a newspaper in his hands, was Penguin, who had finally taken notice of Law’s threatening aura in front of him.  Law didn’t respond to the question, instead continuing to stare daggers at whatever was in his direct line of sight.  Penguin placed the paper down, turning his head over his shoulder to follow Law’s vision.

In the common area directly across from the galley sat Bepo on the floor, rolled onto his side, mouth wide open as snores exited his nostrils at a rhythmic pace.  Nuzzled up impossibly close to the large polar bear was Ruža, boiler suit zipped down to her waist, sleeves tied around her hips as she instead used Bepo’s ample amount of fur as a space warmer.  Her long hair was tied into a tight bun.  She was sprawled out along Bepo’s belly, head resting under the bear’s chin, a content smile on her face as she dozed off within her crewmate’s comfortable heat.

Penguin turned back around to face Law, a devilish smirk crawling across his eyes.  “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.  And of Bepo out of everyone!”

“Will you keep your voice down?” Law quipped back, voice hushed, yet harsh.  

His mate laughed at his captain’s behavior.  “Never took you for the possessive type.”

“I’m not possessive,” Law grumbled, finally releasing the death grip he had on his mug and instead using his hand to pull the brim of his hat downward, covering his eyes.

A hard thump resounded next to him as the bench of the table rattled.  “You sleep on Bepo all the time, and so does the rest of the crew.  Why is it a problem when Ruža does it?”  The new voice, Shachi, followed his statement by taking a generous bite out of the bread he had retrieved from the kitchen.

Penguin responded for Law.  “He wants to be the one on top of Ru–”

Law’s motions were quicker than lightning, reaching across the table, grabbing the discarded newspaper in his fist, and whacking Penguin over the head with it to shut him up.  The two men burst into a cacophony of laughter.  They both knew better than anyone that Law meant absolutely no harm with his actions, he just had difficulty expressing his emotions.  Extreme difficulty, at that.  The laughter from Shachi and Penguin was enough to wake the mink across the room and the girl sleeping against his fluffy chest.  Bepo yawned, forgetting about Ruža draped underneath him and sat up, causing her to startle awake.

“What’s all the noise for?  I was having a good dream,” Bepo uttered, sleep still heavy on his tongue.  

Beside him, Ruža sat up, stifling her own massive yawn.  She awkwardly got to her feet, unwrapping her sleeves from around her hips and re-buttoning her boiler suit.  She turned to face the three in the galley across the room from them, smiling at the sight of Shachi and Penguin covering their mouths in vain attempts to smother their laughter as Law sat hunched over, both hands now gripping his fluffy hat, pushing it so far down his face that the entire upper half was obscured, leaving just his clenched lips visible.

The woman turned to Bepo, helping the animal off the floor.  “Thank you for the wonderful nap, Bepo!”  She turned on her heel to exit the galley, refreshed and ready to continue her tasks for the day.  

Bepo finally approached the table, plopping himself down next to Penguin who was wiping tears from his obscured eyes.  “Seriously, why are you guys laughing?”

“Captain was jealous of you,” Shachi said, his mouth curled into a wide grin.  “Because Ruža was napping with you.”

“Aw, Captain, you should just tell her you want to nap with her!  I’m sure she’d say yes, she just likes to nap on me because I’m so fluffy and you’re so boney,” Bepo casually spurted, innocent beady eyes matching well with the wide, toothy smile on his muzzle.  Penguin almost spit his coffee out at the backhanded comment.

Law groaned, his head dropping into his arms, hat being shoved off his head.  “Thanks for the encouragement, Bepo.”

Shachi nonchalantly rubbed his captain’s back.  “There, there, big guy, it’s alright.”

“Uhm…”

A new voice alerted the four friends toward the opposite doorway to the galley.  The masked helmsman, Hakugan, awkwardly stood in the entranceway, using his upper body to hold the heavy steel door open.  “Captain, you’re needed in the bridge for a quick maintenance check.  Sorry if I’m… interrupting something.”

Law was on his feet, hat situated back on his head faster than the speed of light.  His hand grabbed his sword that was left leaning against the wall, leaving his half-empty coffee mug completely abandoned as he followed Hakugan out of the galley.

His three friends watched him go, knowing smiles on their faces.

“He’s totally in love with her,” Penguin sighed, dreamily.

“Why won’t he say anything, though?” Bepo’s question was innocuous enough.

“You know how bad he is with feelings.  He’d rather die than be vulnerable with anyone,” Shachi responded, dropping his chin into his hand.

The conversation quickly dissipated, and the three finished their drinks and food before scattering for their own afternoon work.

—

A few days had passed since Law got called possessive.  Jealous.

The raven-haired man was staring at himself in the mirror of the crew washroom, hands clutching the sides of the metal sink as he gazed into his own face.  He wasn’t jealous.  How could he be jealous of his best friend?  Everyone loved cuddling with Bepo, how couldn’t you?  Law wasn’t jealous.  He didn’t own Ruža, no one did, and he’d rather swallow hot coals than ever make her feel like she was stuck in that situation again.  He wasn’t jealous.  He wasn’t–

“Captain?”

Law jolted.  In the mirror’s reflection, the person he wanted to see the least was behind him, leaning against the open door.  Ruža’s eyebrows were furrowed with concern, blue eyes shooting daggers into his back.

“Ruža, sorry, I’ll get out of your way.”  Law quickly grabbed his hat from the countertop beside him, turning around to attempt to get out of the room as quickly as he possibly could, sans using his devil fruit (he didn’t want to look that pathetic).  

“Are you alright, Law?” Ruža gently grabbed at the sleeve of his coat as he passed her.  “You look feverish.”

Law couldn’t bear to bring his eyes to meet her bright ones.  His heart was hammering so wildly behind his ribcage that he was scared it might give out.

“Yes, I’m fine,” he muttered blankly, staring off into nothing.  He bit down the disappointment that he felt as Ruža’s hand fell from its grip on his clothing.

“Okay…” she replied, though clearly unconvinced.  “Let us know if you need any help with anything.”  She finally entered the washroom after him, going straight to the medicine cabinet to grab her toothbrush.

With her back to him, Law silently turned his head toward her.  His eyes landed on the tattoo still imprinted at the base of her neck, exposed by her tied-up hair, his saliva catching in his throat.  The last thing he wanted was for her to feel trapped in this steel submarine she now called home, trapped with him.  She needed to be free.

But the smell of her shampoo lingering in the air after she passed him was making it very difficult for him to come to his senses, as not only himself, but as a captain.  Ducking his head, he finally took long strides away from the washroom.

—

“Ikkaku, have you noticed something wrong with Law lately?”  Ruža was hanging up her boiler suit on a hook on the wall, shedding her clothes from the day for something much more comfortable.  

Behind her, Ikkaku was changing into her own loungewear, tight, curly hair tied into two buns.  The two being the only women on the crew meant that they had the privilege of their own bunkroom, away from the 20-something other men that they lived with.  Ruža joining the crew made Ikkaku elated, excited to have not only a roommate, but a new girlfriend at that.  And the two of them sharing the privacy of their own room meant their more personal discussions stayed far away from the prying eyes of their crass male crewmates.

“Now that you mention it, he’s seemed pretty uptight lately,” Ikkaku murmured, wiping her face down with a damp cloth.

“I feel like I did something to make him upset, earlier I saw him in the washroom and he wouldn’t even look at me.”  Ruža’s voice was laced with discomfort, clearly sullen about the events from earlier in the day.

“What could you even have done?” Ikkaku asked, finally turning to face her friend.  The curly-haired woman already knew about the deep crush Ruža had on their stone-faced captain, being her only confidant in her emotional turmoil.  “You’ve never said or done anything bad to him before.”

“That’s what I’m wondering about!” Ruža responded with an exasperated huff.  “He’s impossible to read, and he never tells anyone what he’s thinking, so if I did do something to upset him he won’t tell me no matter how hard I pry.”

Ikkaku flopped face first into her mattress, rolling onto her side and watching as Ruža pulled a baggy shirt over her head.  “When did he start acting so off?��

“Uhm… a few days ago I think.”  The redhead sat on her own bed, falling onto her back and gazing dimly at the metallic ceiling above her.

“Did anything happen then?”

It took the blue-eyed woman a few minutes to think about the previous day’s events.  “I took a nap with Bepo in the common room a few days ago, and Shachi, Penguin, and Law were having a conversation that woke us up, and that’s when he started acting weird, I think.”

Ikkaku pondered intensely over her friend’s words.  Shachi and Penguin having a laugh at Law’s expense was nothing short of common on the Polar Tang, the two of them being Law’s closest friends but also his greatest annoyance.

Ruža’s voice piped up again.  “Maybe it was because I was napping during the day?”

“No, that can’t be it, Law naps on Bepo all the time so he’d be a hypocrite for getting mad at you over that,” Ikkaku responded.

“Maybe he wanted to nap with Bepo and I was in the way,” offered the red-head.

A light bulb suddenly flicked on within Ikkaku’s skull.  She sat up on her bed with a start, making Ruža jump in surprise.  Wide, brown eyes trained on startled blue ones.

“Maybe he was jealous that you were resting with Bepo and not him.”

It took Ruža a few moments to process her crewmate’s words.  “No, that can’t be it.”

“Why not?”

“Because he doesn’t like me that way!  I’m a crew member, a subordinate.  I’m nowhere close to his rank, and even then that’d be pushing his duty as a captain.”  Ruža was immediately on the defensive with a tight frown.  “As much as I want that to be the case, there’s no way that can be it.”

Ikkaku grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.  “Who says?  Law’s not the kind of guy to keep himself above everyone, we’re all equal in this tin can.  Penguin and Shachi make out in the supply closet all the time and no one bats an eye.”

“Penguin and Shachi have been making out in supply closets since they were teenagers.  Their scenario is different.”  Ruža sat herself up now, leaning back on her hands.  After a few tense moments, she released a pent-up exhale.  “I really want Law to like me the way I like him, but it’s wishful thinking.  He’s not that kind of guy, and he definitely doesn’t seem like the kind of person to get jealous.”

Ikkaku hummed.  “I don’t know, I have an inkling.  But, I don’t know him as well as Bepo, Shachi, or Penguin do, so I feel like if you really want an answer, you’ll have to go through them.  Even if it’s not some cute lovey-dovey romance situation, they might at least be able to help you figure out what you did wrong, if anything.”

Ruža glanced off to the side.  “You’re right, probably.”

“Probably?!” Ikkaku gasped, feigning offense.  “I’m always right!”

This got Ruža to finally crack a tired smile, a breathy laugh leaving her lungs.  “Okay, yeah, you’re always right.”

Their conversations continued until the lights went out.  Instead of sleeping, however, Ruža was laid on her back, staring blankly at the dark ceiling above her head.  Her lips quivered nervously.

—

“Shachi,” a hushed whisper alerted the ginger man’s attention from his porthole washing.  He turned his head left, then right, searching for the source of the noise.  “Behind you, dummy,” the voice came again, from behind him.  He finally turned around, spotting the nervous expression of Ruža peeking from around the corridor.  

“Why are you acting like you’re spying?  Just get over here!”  Shachi beckoned her over, and she complied without a word, slowly ambling her way over to where her older crewmate was working.  “Is everything alright?  Your eye bags look like they’re about to go on a longhaul trip.”

“I wanted to ask you something,” she replied, voice small.  She knew her eye bags were atrocious, she didn’t get a lick of sleep the night previous.

Shachi nodded, waiting for her to continue.

“Did I do something to upset Law?”

“Huh?”

Ruža paused, staring at the tinted shades that constantly covered the man’s eyes.  “What do you mean ‘huh’?  He hasn’t wanted to make eye contact with me in like a week now.  I want to know what I did wrong and figured you might know… you or Penguin.”

Shachi pinched the bridge of his crooked nose in between his fingers.  “Law is such an idiot, I swear.”  He dropped his hand, planting it firmly on his crewmate’s stiff shoulder.  “He’s not mad at you, I promise.”

“Then why is he acting like this?”

“Because he’s stupid and doesn’t know how to talk about his feelings.  He was jealous that you were napping with Bepo last week.”

Shachi’s words made the neurons in Ruža’s brain brown out.  Her jaw was slack, staring blankly at the man in front of her.  Ikkaku was right on the money.  She was always right.

“If you’re gonna get anything out of him, you have to corner him like a cat and force him to talk.  How else do you think he managed that alliance with Straw Hat?  That kid forced Law around against his will and in the end everything worked out.”  Shachi smirked.

“I’m not gonna drag him around like a dog,” Ruža muttered, hiding her flushed face in her hands.  “But… I want to try to talk to him.  I got no sleep last night because of this.  Clearly.”

Shachi patted the woman’s shoulder a few extra times before finally releasing his supporting grip on her.  “Let me know if you need anything else, alright?  You got this.”  He flashed her a toothy grin.

Finally having a few answers, Ruža felt her shoulders relax, a relieved smile on her face.  “Thank you, Shachi, you’re the best.”

—

The day dragged on slower than a ship on the Calm Belt, and no one had seen Law for the entire duration.  Not at breakfast, snack time, or dinner.  Someone claimed they saw the man make a mad dash from his office to the galley for food, but no one could back up that claim.  He was like a cryptid among his own crew.

Regardless, that evening, Ruža stood face-to-face with the hand-painted plastic sign that he kept hung up on the heavy metal door to his office.

DO NOT ENTER.  I AM WORKING.

‘Obviously,’ thought the woman with a frown.

With a trembling hand, she reached up and knocked three times on the door, cringing at the way the heavy sound screeched through the desolate hallway of the submarine.  She waited a few moments in deafening silence.  No answer.  Her hand faltered, but she knocked again, louder this time.

“Read the sign,” yelled a clearly agitated voice from within the closed off room.

“I can read just fine, Captain,” Ruža responded, surprising herself with the sass on her tongue.

More uncomfortable silence followed, before the sound of a screeching chair could be heard.  Slow footsteps approached the steel door, and Ruža backed up apprehensively, heart beating wildly as she anticipated the door opening.  It did, a tiny crack, allowing the glaring light from the hallway to shine off of Law’s weary face.  His eye bags were worse than her’s, and his hair clearly hadn’t been washed in some time.

He stared at the woman outside of his door for a few agonizing moments before simply saying, “Yeah?”

Ruža pursed her lips.  “I wanted to talk to you.  It’s imperative.”  Law didn’t need to know that she had been practicing that last word in the mirror for the better part of 20 minutes.  Instead, she kept her shoulders back, chin held high, attempting to assert herself in front of her brooding captain who she was madly, desperately, incredibly in love with.  She was failing miserably.

Law looked past the way her lips quivered and her arms trembled at her sides, as well as her own sleepless appearance.  He silently opened the door to his office a bit wider, inviting her inside.  Her apprehensive steps followed him, and she closed the door behind her, standing against it as she watched her captain meander back to his desk, plopping himself in his chair before leaning forward to rest his head in his hands.

“I want to hear from you why you’ve been ignoring me.”  Ruža tried to suppress the way her voice trembled on its journey into the air.  “I have my suspicions, but I want to hear it from you.”

Law bowed his head, the shadow from his bangs concealing his eyes from her vision.  “What are your suspicions?”

Ruža was very quickly growing impatient, not helped by her lack of proper sleep.  “That you were jealous that I was napping with Bepo.  Shachi told me, but if that’s the case, I want to hear the truth from you, no one else.”

Law was worried that the sound of his hammering heart beat would be audible from across his office.  His own fingers were trembling with nerves, he never in a million years thought he would ever be in a situation like this one.  He did everything possible in his attempts to close himself out from intimate, personal connections, losing one too many people for his liking.  And yet, a woman stood before him (well, behind him), who held his weary heart in a grip so warm and caring that he almost didn’t want it back.

The red-haired woman waited patiently for her captain to respond.

“Yeah,” was all he was able to breathlessly mutter.

Ruža waited for him to continue.

“I was jealous.  But I shouldn’t have been.”

“And why were you jealous?” she demanded.  “The entire crew loves napping with Bepo.  Tell me why it’s different when I do it.”

Now it was Law’s turn to grow progressively more agitated.  His teeth clenched within his closed mouth.  “Do I really have to say it?”

“If it’s really this hard for you, then you don’t have to bother.  I’m just tired of you acting like I don’t even exist.  We’re in a damn submarine, it’s a bit hard not to feel ignored.”  Ruža’s voice had softened only slightly.  She was aware of her captain’s emotional issues, she knew bits and pieces of why he held everyone at three arms lengths away from him.  She knew that the tattoo she had forcibly inked on the back of her neck was a disturbing sight for him, just as it was a painful scar for her.

With a deep, shuddering breath, Law finally leaned back in his chair.  He closed his eyes, tossing his head back, breathing shallowly through his nose.  “I know it was immature of me to treat you like that, Ruža, I’m sorry.”  He rotated his head only slightly to glance towards the woman at his door, gazing at her with golden eyes that were filled with an unspoken agony.

“It’s okay,” was all she said back.

An idea popped into Law’s anxiety-ridden mind.  He slowly pulled open one of the messy drawers of his desk, procuring a wrinkled blank piece of paper.  Pulling a pen from a cup on his desk, he pulled the cap off and started scribbling frantically onto the paper.  In his head, the vision of Corazon writing on slips of paper to communicate while he was pretending to be mute flashed through his vision.  If Law couldn’t muster up the courage to vocalize the three little words bouncing aimlessly through his skull, then he’d just write them down.

The scratching of pen against paper finally ceased, and Law stood, keeping his head low as he passed the paper underside-up toward Ruža, who carefully took it from his hand.  Flipping it around, she began to scan the words sloppily written on the front.

Ruža clenched the paper within her shaky fingers.  The words she herself had been afraid to say were written at the top.  I love you.

The silence was palpable, so thick you couldn’t even slice a sword through it.  Shockingly, however, a light, airly laugh infiltrated the space.  Ruža’s face was flushed a bright, rosy red, and her mouth was twisted into a nervous, childlike grin as she tried with all her might to keep down the nervous laughs that were forming in her chest.  She couldn’t help it, small giggles escaping her lips as her shoulders shuddered with the effort of keeping them in.  Law picked his head up, staring with a mixture of shock and bewilderment.  He poured his heart out onto a piece of paper, and she was laughing at him.

“I’m not laughing at you, Law,” she finally managed to say.  “I love you.”

The formidable captain of the Heart Pirates, one of the most wanted men in the world, nervously swallowed the glob of spit that had formed in the back of his throat.  “You… you do?”

“Yeah.”  Her response mirrored his curt words from the short minutes prior.  “I was so scared that I did something to upset you.”

“God, no, you could never,” Law replied, breathlessly.  He felt 100 pounds lighter, like he could float away on the slightest breeze.  The three words that had cursed him for almost 20 years of his life now held a new weight to them.  A new, liberated weight.

The woman in front of him, with a nervous, giddy smile dancing across her lips, eyes closed tightly with the force of her infectious smile, held his heart so tightly in her grasp and she didn’t even know it.  Not yet, at least.  That would come with time.

Ruža broke the silence.  “Can I please hug you?”

Law felt the corners of his own mouth twitch upwards.  “Of course.”

The red-head closed the distance within a few short steps, hiding her face within Law’s chest, still giggling like a child over the sudden revelation.  She kept the paper held firmly in her hand as she wrapped her arms around his torso.  Law’s scruffy chin found its perch on the crown of her head, the scent of her shampoo filling his nostrils and clouding his mind with a bliss he had never experienced before.  He couldn’t fight his smile any more, letting it consume him, the same way he accepted the way his heart beat uncontrollably within Ruža’s presence.

“I’m sorry I’m laughing, I can’t help it,” she mumbled, the sound muffled by her face squished in the fabric of his sweatshirt.

His hands found their place around her shoulders, his left hand involuntarily coming up to rest on the back of her neck, covering her tattoo with his own inked hand.  “It’s okay,” he responded, his words quiet and soft.  “This is all new to me.”

“It’s new to me, too.”

The two stood in the same position for what felt like hours before Ruža finally (though regrettably) backed away slightly.  Law’s hands slipped off her shoulders, but his fingers gingerly brushed along her tattoo.

“We don’t have to do anything about this if you don’t want to.  I know with you being the captain and everything makes this kind of weird.”  Ruža’s eyebrows angled in a way that made her appear almost sad at a reality that hadn’t even happened yet.

It took Law a few moments to really form his response.  “No, I… I think I want to try.  I don’t know what to do, though.”

“Me neither.”

Now it was Law’s turn to laugh.  “We’re fucking hopeless.”

“Tell me about it.”

Ruža gazed longingly at the paper she still held in her hands, eyes repeatedly glossing over the three words at the top.  Law could get used to the way her bright eyes softened, as if not believing that what she was reading was the truth.  In the back of her mind, the reason she had even shown up to his office in the first place pushed itself back to the forefront.

“So about you being jealous…”

#one piece x reader #op x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #one piece oc #one piece original character #oc x canon #one piece oc x canon #dfort oc

[ya-zz]

It Has to End - It Will End

Ramattra x Reader

!! sa r/pe warning !! A/N: I am fairly open about my experience, having written about it in the past with a character from a different fandom. What is written below from the readers POV is what happened to me back in 2018. Some of you may ask or have wondered why I'm comfortable in writing r/pe, and this is why - I have been through it. If this helps even one person, then I have done something right... Also don't ask about word count I did this here and not in a doc-

Something had been off with you for awhile but the omnic couldn't place it. The distant stares, vacant eyes and shaky hands were anything but normal. He ruled it down to the nightmare you recently had, it was still eating away at you, he thought.

One night, when the two of you were seated on the balcony to watch the meteor shower that was supposedly happening, he figured that it was the right time to ask.

"Is everything okay? You have not been yourself recently." His head tilts to the side, optics glancing over at you.

Ramattra notices the hesitation before you peel your eyes away from the night sky. "Yeah. Suppose I'm just on edge."

"We have time-"

"I don't want to ruin the mood." You half smile at him.

"Your health and feelings are more important than some balls of dust falling from the atmosphere." He states, turning his entire body to face you. "Talk to me. Please."

You can hear the desperation in his voice as you follow suit, turning your body to sit in front of his. A shaky sigh escapes you as you look down at your hands resting on your lap.

"I can't forget what happened to me." You start, not wanting to look up at the omnic before you. "It happened so long ago but it still feels recent."

Ramattra stays silent, the only noise coming from him was his inner workings, the soft hum of his fans against the cool night time wind.

"It took me so long, no, too long, to realise what had happened to me. The way his hands grabbed my body. I can still feel them on my sides, my hips; the bruises from how tight he held me." Closing your eyes, you try to dismiss the scene, but it replays. A constant, torturous loop that never seemed to end. "He pushed himself inside of me… I was screaming, shouting at him to stop, but he didn’t, no matter how loud I cried… It felt like glass being dragged back and forth. After he… After he had finished, he just cleaned himself up, leaving me bent over his bed trying to collect myself."

The next sentence that leaves your mouth hits the omnic like a brick.

"He was a friend, Rama... Someone I trusted. Someone I knew for years and he did this to me." It was hard to hold back the tears that started falling down your cheeks. "It took me so long to realise what had happened, but by that point it was too late. I have to live with the fact that I was raped and there is no justice."

Ramattra freezes, hands tightly gripping the cloth around his thighs.

"He's out there living life as if nothing happened, and the worst part about it all?" You look up at the omnic as you wipe away the tear on your cheek. "I still had to see him."

The silence rings loud before being broken by the passing chilly wind. Ramattra goes to speak but nothing comes out. He couldn't believe what he was hearing; all this time, the anxiety, the flinching, the nightmares... You snap him out of his thoughts by continuing to speak.

"We had the same friend group. I avoided him as much as I could when I realised what happened, but nobody believed me when I finally said something... If they didn't believe me, why should anyone else?"

"You have the worst friends." Ramattra chimes in.

"I'm no longer friends with any of them." You laugh awkwardly. "I cut them off soon after."

"That does not change anything." He wants to lean forward, to hold you close, but your body language says otherwise - stiff, ready to push back.

You manage a half smile before continuing. "It comes back every now and then. I'll be having a good day and then it gets ruined by that... I want to it end."

"You have come far already. Opening up to me is the first step. You are holding on to it for what reason? You do not need to relive that moment anymore." Ramattra finally takes that leap and takes your hand in his.

You shrug, taking a moment to think as you watch his thumb smooth over your knuckles. "It's hard to let go of something so traumatic. I can't just snap my fingers and forget it. Something will trigger it and I go back to that isolated state."

"You have thought about different outcomes, yes?" Ramattra asks with a firm tone.

"Too many times." You breathe deeply. "I should've left or I should've fought back. I should've realised what had happened at that moment and gone to the police-"

"Does it make you feel better?"

"No. Worse. It makes me feel weak."

Ramattra hums and nods. "Then why do you keep doing it?"

You stutter when trying to come up with a response. "I suppose it made me feel better for a moment before it made me feel like shit."

"Perhaps you should try a different approach. Yes, it happened and no, you cannot change the past, but you are still here. You are living your life despite the event holding you back in some aspects. It does not make you weak. You are strong." Ramattra speaks softly. "You are stronger because of that."

You smile softly at his words but it quickly fades.

"You are not weak, [y/n]." He reiterates as he squeezes your hand. "Should I ever see this particular individual, I will make sure you have justice."

You couldn't help but laugh at his threat as you wipe away the remaining tears. "You are like a guard dog, you know that?"

"A very good one, no?" Ramattra shuffles closer to you, letting you lean your weight on him. "You deserve closure, to be free from that nightmare."

"One day..."

He keeps his optics on you for a moment longer, your heartbeat had slowed and you seemed more relaxed than before. There was a twinkle in your eyes as they widen, your body shifting forward as you point out a falling star.

"Rama, look!"

Though, he doesn't. His optics were still on you. Admiring you. He brings his head down, resting on the side of your neck. A soft buzzing, a kiss, is felt before he speaks.

"I am proud of you and how far you have come. Do not let this hold you back. You deserve the happiness and you are worthy of love. I am here each and every step of the way, no matter what comes your way. I have you, now and forever."

#overwatch #ramattra #ramattra x reader #yazzfics #debated posting this #it's been in my drafts for a few days #there are actually a few drabbles surrounding this #might be able to piece them together should I do a FULL thing in the future #I did nearly 18k words back in 2022 about this when it nearly made me drop out of uni #guess this is my way of coping #it works tho soooooo #more ramattra content heh

[unironicallycringe]

Happy "It's Now Been Over A Year Since TMM Updated" I'm so sorry lol

#it's just sitting in my docs staring at me #but yeah this is just a “shea's still alive” check in post #im finally quitting my job so like WE MIGHT BE SOOOO BACK 💪🏾💪🏾💪🏾 #shea muses aloud

[spaceless-vacuum]

imagining a story where you save one of the yandere!triforce members. You think nothing about it at the time, it was just something to be done for a traveler in need. Very quickly they learn that you had no idea how they were and the way you brush off the interaction is odd. You rush in, defeat the monsters, and then ask for nothing in return. Just going back to your day. They try to figure out what happened in your perspective or if there's anything more you were trying to convey.

Nope! Just the reader doing their good deed for the day and then moving on with their life.

However the one you saved has different ideas.

(this is especially more interesting with a hylian!reader who saved Ganon. You spend some time with him not knowing who he is for whatever reason. Maybe you genuinely start to think of him as nice only to be hit by the realization of who he is and what's going on once he reveals he plans on kidnapping you.)

#eye ramble #ill write for this later #i swear #i know i always say this but this idea has been in my head for ages #just sitting in my google docs staring at me in the eyes #yandere link x reader #yandere zelda x reader #yandere ganon x reader #yandere legend of zelda

[anoddopal]

tHE MOMENT MY DAD PAUSED THE EPISODE ON; ARE YOU KIDDING ME- 🫣

#I’m just sitting here and staring and trying to be normal #oops I guess I’ve outed myself as someone who watches the dub. come and fight me. eat my entire ass IDK i enjoy the dub. #doc is fucking dead i have to go help him #haha I haven’t thought about my s/I in this scene. not at all. #whimsy rapscallion husband #thou shalt surely die

[justablah56]

why does executive dysfunction need to hit it's hardest on the dead day of the class I'm failing, huh?

#just blahs #maybe small vent in the tags btw #ive been staring at this mostly empty doc for the past hour and even longer before this and i want to cry #i took a 3 hour nap in the hopes that maybe then id be less tired and its done nothing #i took a shower after said nap so maybe id feel better and be able to focus better #i asked a friend to tell me to do it so maybe THAT would help #but literally nothing has worked and im going to fail this class and my parents are gonna be upset because its such an easy class #itd just be silly and careless to fail it #i must just not care enough #but they dont get that I literally cannot do these assignments #literally all term i have been trying to do these and every time my brain just completely stops functioning #and ive only been able to do like 3 assignments all term #i hate it #why can't i just be normal and be able to actually work on things and not feel like im skinning myself every time i sit down to do homework

[science-doyourstuff]

I had to do client counseling for a euthanasia today at the vet clinic while extremely delirious with a fever and I am pretty sure I fucked it up

#vet clinic #cw: death #cw: animal death #just. hmmm. #i might have seemed super drunk. which is not a good way to come off at a euth in general #never want to do that again #i am sitting here staring up at the ceiling like. wow. did I traumatize that family #either that or they didn't notice a darn thing. #people tend to be out of it themselves #but the lady kept apologizing to ME that I had to go over legal details and grief counseling with HER so um. hm. #OH BY THE WAY I DO NOT HAVE COVID #THE FEVER IS BECAUSE I HAVE A RAGING EAR INFECTION #because of my stupid fucked up ears #I am seeing an urgent care doc tomorrow #I wouldn't go to work with covid

[citrlet]

that moment you create an oc you love so much so suddenly you have to write about them but can't make the words work

#this is a very specific mood that im sure only affects me #god i just want to write why cant my brain let me do it #sitting here staring at an empty google doc #dl

[briwhosaysni]

Gotta say, this "difficulty focusing and feeling motivated to do necessary tasks" disorder is sure making it difficult to focus and feel motivated to do necessary tasks, and I'm getting Real Tired Of It

#adhd #the additional high-definition is really kicking my butt today lads #literally I just have to write 2-3 pages and they're due tomorrow and yet I've been sitting here for hours #with my body alternatingly watching youtube and staring blankly at a word doc #while inside my brain i'm in full 'this is fine' dog mode #i have meds and coping skills but sometimes i'm still left sitting at my computer at 11 pm feeling frustrated with myself #and sometimes it just Gets To Me y'know?

[leavemetoplaythesims]

i think about my stupid stories all day long but as soon as i sit and to try to write it down nothing becomes like it is in my head.

#i want to be a writer for gods sake but i don't have the patience to write wtf #i have a whole book trilogy and a world in my head but only like 4 pages of actual writing on it #and don't let me get started on the sims story #i sit for like 30 minutes to an hour just staring at my almost blank doc and then i give up #i always think that i've found my thing and then i figure out that i'm actually bad at it and then i don't find the joy in doing it anymore #like if i don't become a writer i have no idea what i should work with #i think i judge myself too hard and become too nitpicky instead of just writing and not looking back you know #i like write a sentence and then i read it to myself several times and i don't think that's a good way to do it #sorry this is just me rambling now

[todayisafridaynight]

#ANYWAY LET ME COOK. im not a good chef but i can at least cook an egg lemme see what i got...

This is leagues ahead of Jo as per Substitute Father so I'm sure you'll do great <3 NOT TO SET THE BAR LOW... Arakawa POV part of that was sooooooo cute but I am of course VERY MUCH LOOKING FORWARD regardless of what you've got in the oven :] I think it's funny we always end up with roughly the same concepts but I just shoehorn RGGJo into it instead

DO YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN THOUGH WITH HOW THE MARKETING FOR YLAD KEPT HAMMERING IN THE SON THING ONE WAY OR ANOTHER... BUT THE SCENE YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT IS FUNNY and honestly half of the things Westerners [<- counting myself just this once] find funny in RGG apparently aren't intentional so what's one more

Substitute Father haunts me since i really don't like it but i also know that One (1) person really enjoyed it so i don't want to delete it SOOO the most i can do at this point is try to write something better as an apology and try to forget.. and hopefully let arakawa FPOV in a better fic..

BUT YEAH LMAO they really werent subtle bout it in retrospect.... teehee..

#snap chats #i dont like saying hate but I Do Hate a lot of things i make and i do go back to delete a sum of them #even if its like. Fine or whatever i'll just become overburdened with shame or embarrassment and i'll want it gone #i wanted to delete that fic before you saw it so im sorry you happened upon it #i wouldve deleted it sometime later but. then i saw people like it and i know i always go Aw Man when i cant find a thing anymore so.. #here's to.trying to do better. even if i have no faith in my ability to write #its why i do comics and w/e..... less thinking involved... it comes easier to me... #if i sit here thinking about it anymore ill give myself an Actual Real Stroke LMAO so moving on #funny we have similar ideas :) idk what you have in mind but still lmao..... small world.. or something like that.. #in any case... crying at the specification that This Once you're a westerner #sorry to sully you with such a heinous title 😩 no one likes it tbf... #i try to find comedy in like. Everything but maybe that is a Westerner thing who's to say not me #it's how i cope.... speaking of tho i checked my blood pressure Correctly this time :) it as 150 ☠️ sooo i MIGHT die... #we can only hope right LMAOO my chest hurt a lil.... oh noo here it comes... #jk i have to stare at this google doc for another two hours and do nothing as i feel ineptitude overcome me #also it's my sister's birthday :) it just became my sister's birthday as i was typing this LMAO #ok im done now bye

[queercatboyrights]

girl help im scrolling through tumblr instead of writing my college papers due in less than 12 hours

#nebbles talks #tfw procrastination and executive dysfunction break down your door and beat you to death #i KNOW i need to be writing these fuckin papers but brain no workies!!! #*repeatedly bangs my head against the wall* #uuuhhhgggggggg i know if i get it done and out of the way its gonna be so much easier on me #but ive just been sitting staring at a blank words doc for the past 30mins internally screaming #fuck man i wish they made college courses that weren't a mental hellscape for neurodivergent students #ugh. this sucks so much ass. #wish me luck folks im gonna blast some lo-fi tunes and figure out what mental life hack i can use to crank out a 7 page paper in 6 hours

[thewinchestah]

"PREY" - Alastor x reader fic

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 &lt;;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.

#hello guys im insane can you tell? #eu escrevi isso aqui na força do odio puro e genuino de quem ta sendo xingada no twitter tem dias #alastor #alstor smut #alastor x reader #alastor x reader smut #alastor fanfic #the radio demon #the radio demon x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin fic #autora também está no cio #serio aquela msuica sento no bico da glock rebolo e tiro o short e vem vamo fudeee o gabriel tirou o meu cabaço e me botou de quatro nao #sai da minha cabeça #aquariano nato também não #QUEBRA A CAMA DESSAS PUTAAAAAAAAA #baixaria

[neil-gaiman]

Hello Neil!

You have indirectly been a huge help to me. I was complaining to my mother about my writing homework for my university classes. I tend to just sit and stare at an open Word doc for half an hour, tab to Wikipedia, read Wikipedia for three hours, panic, feel bad, drink, and go to bed. This is not an especially productive way to conduct a college career.

My mother, bless her, mentioned that you generally write by hand in order to avoid that same effect. She told me I ought to give it a shot. I followed her advice and just wrote most of an essay for a Spanish class by hand, without any of the panic or alcoholic tendencies that a blank screen and Internet access always give me. It was liberating.

I thanked my mother, and she said, "Thank Neil Gaiman." So thanks, Neil Gaiman. You're a real one.

I'm so very glad it helped. Your mother is wise.

[keeksandgigz]

the love witch

modern!eddie munson x fem!witchy!reader

summary: Eddie Munson is obsessed with his girlfriend. Hell, he's not even sure how he was able to get you interested in him in the first place. Despite him not really believing in your witchy practices, he's incredibly supportive, but that doesn't come without his cheeky digs. He agrees to a tarot reading for shits and giggles. You don't like that he doesn't take it seriously.

cw: no y/n, reader's nickname is 'witchy' , talk of the occult, wiccan practices, description of r's clothing, but no body description, reader has female anatomy, oral (F receiving), face sitting, sub!Eddie, dom!Reader, choking, slight biting, dirty talk, honorifics, unprotected piv (pls don't do that), ending leans towards the whole witchy vibe

word count: 4.8k

this and all my works are 18+ minors do NOT interact

Eddie Munson is one lucky motherfucker. 

Living in a small studio apartment in the Haight-Ashbury of San Francisco, which he got a damn good price on. 

He works at one of the many vintage record stores in the neighborhood, which pulsates with raw musical energy, almost as if he steps in the 70s every time he gets out of the front door of his apartment building.

Sometimes he just sits on his fire escape to fuck around with his guitar, inspired by the smells of incense coming from the crystal shops, the music coming from the vintage clothing stores and the pungent smell of lingering weed at all hours of the day.

And with the shaggy, long, brown curls, bullet belt and chains, his black cutoff band t- shirts and heavy lace up boots, he seems to fit right in- for the first time in his life. 

Next to his record store there is one of the many crystal shops on the high street, a tiny little nook he always walks by on the way to work and snickers to himself. There’s no way people believe in all that.

He stops doing that once he meets you. 

Eddie Munson is one lucky motherfucker because he crosses paths with you.

He meets you while he is on his lunch break, using those thirty minutes of peace to walk around and usually pick up some prerolls from the dispensary a couple buildings down, or he lingers in front of the guitar store on the other side of the street, ogling at a B.C. Rich or an Ibanez, spending his break in there, fucking around with a cool amp. 

He meets you on an off day. A day where he doesn't feel like walking around, so he just stands in front of his store smoking a cigarette. You're walking a longtime client out of the crystal shop next door. 

“Thank you for that dried lavender, Janice! I’ll set aside some of that incense for you when we get the shipment” he hears you say. He turns around, snickers at your words while Janice passes in front of him, disappearing in the Saturday afternoon crowd. 

“Something funny?” you ask. Your voice feels smooth like honey wine. He turns around, and suddenly he doesn't feel like snickering anymore.

You look so pretty, the kind of pretty that is almost otherworldly. Like you could’ve come up in his head while planning a DnD campaign. Purple bell sleeve top, a long, black, flowy skirt and lace- up boots. Dressed like his own elven high priestess. 

He realizes he’d been staring at you for a good silent minute. He nervously breaks eye contact to put out his cigarette on the sole of his Docs. 

“Sorry– heh, just don’t really believe in all that stuff” he says, shrugging. In doing that, his evidently too- short shirt rides up, exposing a sliver of the skin of his tummy, which doesn’t go unnoticed to you. 

You lean on the doorframe of the store “What’s your name again?” you ask, a feline smile creeping on your lips. 

He swallows “I um- haven’t told you my- It’s Edward- Eddie!” he corrects himself, you got him flustered “Nobody calls me Edward” he remarks. 

His stammer makes you smile, like he's a wounded puppy dog. 

“Alright Edward Eddie, see you around” and with that you disappear back into the store. 

It takes Eddie a week to learn your name, asking the owner of the crystal shop you work at with no luck, then running into Janice a week later, who kindly tells him your name and then raves about you for a good ten minutes. Quite the hypewoman. 

It takes Eddie another two weeks to ask you out on a date. You're wearing a long mauvish dress under a white cardigan when he sees you walk into the store. Your hair is pulled back from your face and he swears he sees stars in your eyes. 

You say yes and agree to meet at a coffee shop, and by the end of the day, he asks you for a second date. And then a third, and a fourth, and by the arrival of fall, Eddie Munson has a girlfriend.

Eddie Munson is obsessed with his girlfriend.

He even jokes with his friends that his witch girlfriend put a spell on him. Made him drink a love potion, because he can't justify him being so obsessed with you.

Another thing he can't justify is you actually liking him. Sometimes he still needs to pinch himself to make sure it's not all a joke.

A pretty girl that looks like she's straight out of his DnD fantasies is dating him? There's no way shit like that happens to Edward Munson.

Although his apartment is right above the record shop, which means sneaking away for a quickie whenever you guys have matched up work schedules, he loves your apartment.

Twenty minutes away from Haight- Ashbury, in Twin Peaks, there lies your apartment. In an old building from the sixties or seventies, you have it decorated with tapestries and sun- catchers and rugs and pillows and cushions. It's a joy for Eddie's senses.

And with dating you, came Circe, your black cat who seems to have taken an almost immediate liking to Eddie.

Your apartment always smells like incense and candles, a smell you bring with you wherever you go. A smell Eddie loves. There are plants hanging from the ceiling and a big purple couch in the living room.

Everything is antique, lucky finds from thrift stores or flea markets. The table, chairs. The bookcases that hold your witchy books and your crystals.

The first time he comes over he picks one up. A carnelian.

"So, these pretty rocks are supposed to... what?" he asks, toying with every bit and bob on your bookshelf.

"They're crystals, Eddie. And each different one has a purpose. That one you're holding is a carnelian" you say, pouring him a cup of loose- leaf herbal tea, and pointing at the crystal with your nose.

"Okay, and what's it do?" he asks, toying with the smooth surface and going to sit on the ground next to you. He blows on his tea and takes a sip. He isn't a tea enjoyer, but for you he could be.

"Well, a lot of things, but primarily carnelians help boost sexual energy-" you get interrupted by Eddie sputtering out his tea. Some of it lands on you, which causes you to let out a shriek.

The ridiculousness of the situation is both endearing and hilarious. The poor guy probably didn't expect you being so blunt about your use of crystals to aid your sex life.

A giggle escapes you while Eddie tinges a deep shade of crimson from the embarrassment. He shakily sets down the teacup and saucer.

"Shi-shit sorry, lemme help you clean it up" he says, scrambling for the napkins on the coffee table to clean his mess up.

"You got some on me, Eddie" you say as you move your hair from your face to let him clean up the spit- out tea from your cheek.

"Oh my god, sorry lemme get that" he repeats, flushed.

He's shaky in reaching for the napkin to wipe your skin, afraid that he might have ruined his shot at dating you just because he cannot keep his mouth shut.

"It's honestly not a big deal, Ed. It was just funny for the most part" you smile at him, reaching your hand to lay his head on your shoulder. He breathes again.

Once he's calmed down he continues his curious interview.

"So what, do you put it up your pussy or something?" The idea of it makes Eddie's blood run slightly hotter. You laugh.

He blushes at your reaction, feeling slightly embarrassed once he registers what he had just said.

A sheepish "sorry" escapes his lips.

"No, no it's fine" you chuckle "not exactly. You just kinda charge them and set intentions. Then you can take it with you on, like, a date, if you wanna hope for something more" you say. He becomes very aware of his hard- on when you say that.

There is a thick sense of expectation in the air once those words leave your mouth. It could be the thick incense smoke floating around the room, or it could be the way you're looking at him like you want to eat him whole. Your faces get closer.

"I brought one with me today, actually" you admit. And he has never taken his shirt off so fast in his life.

So every time you hang out, he carries a piece if carnelian in his pocket, in hopes to repeat what happened at your apartment.

With time, he learns to carry a rose quartz with him, too.

Soon after, you begin gifting him crystals and bracelets to carry with him. He likes his black tourmaline beaded bracelet the best.

"It's for protection" you had said. It's just very metal to him.

He never really believes in it, but it's sweet, seeing you show up to his apartment with little colorful rocks to put on his windowsill. You teach him how to recharge them and set intentions, but after the second or third time he just can't be bothered.

He quickly learns it's not just pretty rocks you're interested in. You're, like, a full- fledged witch. Hence, the nickname 'witchy' he'd given you.

You ask him for the time and place of his birth. He scrambles to text his uncle Wayne to ask if he remembers what time he's born.

After a couple days of searching, Wayne comes across Elizabeth Munson's old diary. Indianapolis, Indiana, December 21st, 1997 at 3:47 AM.

Eddie Munson has a birth chart.

Sagittarius sun, Scorpio moon, Aries rising.

Whatever that means.

You try to explain it to him, but to no avail. He doesn't really care much for the stars. Except the ones in your eyes.

He swears he can see them twinkle every time you're laying on your brocade rug in the candle lit living room. He learns you don't really use your couch, rather, you just lay on the floor, among a pile of pillows.

Sometimes you're watching TV together. You're sat in between his legs, leaning against his chest, while Circe lays on your lap. And you look at his palms, tracing the fine lines and ridges of his calloused hands.

"You have lines on the top of your hand" you whisper, kissing his fingers.

He blows the cigarette smoke out the open window, careful not to make your house smell.

"Yeah, no shit. We all have 'em, witchy" he places a kiss to the crown of your head.

"No, look right here" you say, tracing the faint lines right where his callouses are "lines like this means you're gonna have a long life" you kiss that spot on his hand. Coarse, but warm.

"Thank fuck, imagine if i just got hit by a cable car tomorrow?" he chuckles, going back to watching TV.

You trace a deep line that goes across the palm of his hand, you smile to yourself.

"Whatcha smilin' about, witchy?" he says, eyes still glued on the TV.

"You have a double heart line. Means you love a lot" you turn and give him a smile. One of those that make your eyes sparkle in the candlelight.

"If I have a double heart line, does that mean I love you more?" he asks, sickly sweet. He cringes at himself for swearing he wasn't going to be that guy, but when you look at him like he just hung the moon for you, he can allow himself to be disgustingly sappy.

You think about it, because he does have a point, but you don't want to make him win this two- month long game you've been playing, so instead you take his palm once more.

"Look, Ed" you say, pointing at a random prominent line "this line tells me you're an asshole" you laugh, as he pinches your sides and you try to squirm away, but his hands are holding you firmly while planting sloppy kisses everywhere he could reach.

Cheek, neck, shoulder. He inhales the curve between your neck and shoulder, and you swear your feel a bit of tongue poke out between his lips. Then he stops.

And you feel it. Deeply seated at the bottom of your back, pressing against the exposed skin between your shirt and pants.

Eddie loves the way you smell, intoxicated by the smell of lavender incense and some kind of berry perfume you wear.

He's convinced that perfume is actually just a pheromone concentrate, because he cannot stop the blood rushing to his dick everytime he catches a whiff of the sweet berries, nestled in the crook of your neck, behind your ear.

"And where's the line that tells me I'm gonna get a kiss?" Eddie asks, voice low and gravelly, a voice that fills you with need, makes your breath falter from your lungs, replacing it with water. But you kiss him nonetheless, and maybe him getting a kiss is written in the stars, after all.

He softly grabs your hair as he slips his tongue in your mouth. Honey- wine whimpers falling from your lips, as you try and get Circe off your lap and in literally any other room. The cat seems to be unbothered.

"Ed... she doesn't want to move" you whine, high pitched voice expressing annoyance, but also overwhelmed at how cute your cat is.

"She's the biggest cockblocker in history" he mutters annoyed, you laugh. A groan leaves his mouth.

"Leave her alone she's just a baby! Us having sex tonight just wasn't in the stars" you shrug, light and airy as you go back to leaning on his chest and petting Circe.

Fuck the stars. He huffs, accepting his fate

He waits for you outside of the shop when he's not working. Guitar case slung around his shoulders, so he can practice at yours, he picks you up and you take the train to your apartment.

"How was work today, witchy?" he asks, roping a hand around your shoulders and giving you a tender kiss on your head.

"Meh, a. bunch of wannabe Tiktok witches, a bunch of old ladies booking tarot readings and threatening to leave bad reviews because I told them their husband is cheating on them or something" you shrug getting on the bus "Janice came, though, she brought me some jasmine flowers so I can make love tea" you say, sitting down. He sits next to you.

You take out the small satchel of dried jasmine flowers, taking in the sweet scent of citrusy flowers.

"Love tea?" he asks "that what you give me when I come over to your apartment every time?" he dips his nose in the satchel, giving it a sniff.

"Yeah, you wish" you laugh "just peppermint tea. Don't want you accusing me I put a love spell on you" Eddie smiles and lays your head on his shoulder while you play with the tassels of your bag, letting you close your eyes for the twenty minutes of the train ride.

Once you're home he slings the guitar case off his shoulders and takes it out, sitting at the stools of your breakfast counter, while you empty the contents of your bag.

Herbs, oils and a new card deck.

"So, what do you need to do now?" he asks, pulling out his phone, looking for guitar tabs to practice on.

"'kay, so" you begin "I need to make tea blend, then putting stuff together for this new project I'm working on, and then break out this new deck I got from work" you say, lost in the mysticism of your to- do list.

Sometimes he finds it funny that the stuff you have to worry about is totally otherworldly to what he usually worries about.

He watches you break out the mortar and pestle while you measure a teaspoon of dried rosebuds, a teaspoon of dried lavender buds, a teaspoon of jasmine and a pinch of cinnamon. He mindlessly plays a couple chords from a song he heard at the record shop.

"What's the cinnamon for?" he asks, pointing at the jar.

"Spicing things up? Cinnamon is a spice, so could be. I'm trying out this new recipe" you say, grinding the flowers together.

"So what you're saying" he begins, looking up from his guitar "is that you're making sex tea" and the feline grin plastered on your face is enough to make you wanna smack him in the head.

"This is not sex tea, Edward" you interject sternly while pouring the contents of the mortar in a new jar.

You light an incense stick, a rose infused one, to set your intentions for this batch, then putting it to rest on your windowsill for the night.

"What are you doing, witchy?" he asks, following your gaze as you set down the jar.

"It's for the moon. Charges the tea" you say, nonchalantly "can you pass me that deck on the counter, please?" you sit on the carpet legs crossed, while Eddie reaches for the card deck and tosses it at you. You catch it.

He sets down his guitar against the counter to goes to stand in front of you as you take the tarot cards out of the deck and start shuffling them.

"What's that baby?" he asks, he swears he can never stop learning from you.

"My new tarot deck, I need to break it out. Want me to give you a reading?" you ask, hoping he'll say yes.

He truly thinks about it, because he doesn't believe in any of this stuff, but saying no to you and watching your eyes darken with sadness is something he doesn't want to put himself through.

He is a weak, weak man.

He shrugs. "Alright then" he says, sitting down on one of the cushy pink pillows on the floor of your apartment "gimme a reading, you little witch"

Your ringed hands shuffle the gold filigree cards.

"I'm gonna do a regular spread, 'kay? Just past, present, future" you look at him, and he swears he sees your eyes twinkling again in the light of the glass lamp on the side table.

You fan out the cards on the carpet and let him pick three cards.

He's reluctant about this, all he really wants is to cook dinner together and spend the evening with you.

You spread the three cards out and unveil the first one.

"Okay, so that's The Empress. Means you have a significant female figure in your life. It usually represents feminine beauty, abundance" you say, explaining it to him.

"You got some abundance, alright" he huffs a laugh, quickly silenced by a deathly stare. You didn't like it when he made fun of what you liked. You roll your eyes at him.

"Sorry, witchy. Keep going" he smiles, like he's about to crack another joke.

"Yeah, okay." you flip the middle card "what luck. You got the lovers" you say, unenthusiastically.

Eddie's eyes light up at the possibility of a joke "Is that the card that tells me I'm getting some sick pussy in the next five minutes?" he asks, his tone makes you want to throw the empty box of cards at his head.

"It looks like you're not taking it seriously, so what's the point" you go to stand up, but he stops you.

"Sorry, baby, please don't leave. I'm enjoying this, Sorry, I won't make any more jokes, I promise" he pleads, and a wicked idea sparks in your head. He sounds really pretty when he begs.

You let out an annoyed groan as you sit back down and you unveil the last card, his future.

Ace of wands. Sex really was in his cards tonight.

"What's that, baby?" he asks.

"Ace of wands. Looks like you're gonna get some 'sick pussy' after all, Munson. Lie down." You command.

He flushes red. "Huh?" you reach under your long skirt to remove your panties.

"I said lie down, I'm giving you what the cards said" you stare at him, expectation in your eyes as he lays down on the brocade carpet, unsure if he should feel afraid or like the luckiest motherfucker alive.

"Better put in the work, pretty boy" you say, crawling on top of him, he looks at you, eyes blown as you lift your skirt, climbing the length of his body. You reach a resting place right on top of his mouth.

It takes him a second to register that you're sitting on his face, and his tongue darts out of his open mouth, to shyly have a taste.

"C'mon now, Eddie, where is the passion? You seemed really passionate about cracking jokes earlier, didn't you?" you cooed, holding up your shirt to look at his eyes, twinkling and darkened as his tongue begins to lap up the length of your pussy.

He gets the hang of it as your hips begin to grind on his face, his tongue darting in and out of your hole as his nose bumps deliciously against your clit.

"Mmm fuck" you gasp as you raise your hips to let him breathe, but he just pulls you down harder. A gasp escapes your mouth as the sound of your moans and Eddie's slurping fills the room.

Even he hears it, because you can see his eyes roll to the back of his head as a resounding hum escapes his lips, vibrating against you, wet and sensitive.

A whine leaves your mouth as you begin to get more desperate, grabbing a handful of his hair, grinding your hips harder against his tongue.

"Doing so good for me, Ed." you say in a feeble attempt to keep the reins controlled, but his tongue works magic on you, making your brain turn to mush.

"There you go don't stop, don't you dare fucking stop" you command, and his tongue flicks against your clit, catching it between his teeth to begin to suck at it.

A mewl leaves your lips, feeling the familiar warmth in your belly begin to form as you pull harder on his hair, moans becoming more high pitched and strained as Eddie makes quick work of his tongue on you.

"'mgonna cum on your face, you want that?" you ask, a rhetorical question, because of course he wants you to gush all over him.

And so you do. You come with a silent scream, riding the orgasm out with the last few snaps of your hips, as your breathing stills and your vision goes white.

Eddie's also panting like a dog under you, aching in his pants for you to make him cum.

You get off his mouth, his chin coated with your fluids as he gathers them on his fingers and sticks them in his mouth. You can't help but mutter a "good boy" as you reach for the belt of his pants.

"Sit up" you command, as he goes to straighten his back and lean against your purple couch.

You take off his shirt "I'm gonna ride you, yeah?" he looks at you like you've just discovered that aliens are real.

"God, yes please, please" he says, looking up at you as you unzip your top off, and you swear his eyes grow bigger at the sight of your chest, your bra still on. A longing sigh leaves his mouth.

You unbutton his jeans and lower them to his mid thigh along with his boxers as his cock slaps against his tummy. He hisses at the feeling as he watches you align yourself on top of it.

"You want it, Ed?" you question, an aura of cool, calm control exuding from you.

He whines. "Please, I want it so bad. Please put it in" he begs, and you've never realized how pretty his voice sounded when begging. Whiny and high pitched, nasal, almost as if he were about to cry. A prayer for you to fulfill him, make him whole.

Like he is nothing without you.

Is that what it felt like for him to see you crying on his cock every night? A rush of power washes over you, as you motion to sink down on him, but quickly going back up.

He lets out a whiny cry, a bratty child without his candy.

"Uh- huh. Beg me to fuck you, Ed" you say. You swear you can feel him shiver, his cock jumping from underneath your skirt.

"F-fuck, please. Please fuck me. Please my love, my witch, my high priestess" he rambles, your hand creeps up his thick neck, wrapping around it "fuck mmm please, I'll do anything. I'll give you everything" a frenzied speech, his words speed up at the feeling of your nails scratching the skin of his neck.

He'd let you sacrifice him to the devil if you asked him.

Feeling his pulse point with your nails as you begin to squeeze the sides of it, a needy gasp escapes the pretty boy's mouth.

Flushed a pretty red, sweat clinging to the base of his neck and forehead, hair curling and sticking to his feverish skin as you begin to sink down on him.

Inch by inch, slowly feeling him fill you up, as a quiet "oh" escapes you once you've taken all of him.

His breath is quick and labored, quiet pleas rolling out of the sweetness of his tongue, where the taste of you lingers. The love potion you'd been administering him all along.

Eddie Munson is not a religious guy, but if he needs to pray to his goddess to get you to fuck him he'll do it.

But you start moving. A slow, feline movement of your back, almost as if you and Circe were the same creature, a shapeshifter from another world. A goddess, an empress of his body and mind. He was wrapped around your finger.

Your hands tighten around his neck as you grind yourself down on him, he whimpers.

"Mmmm, so big" you mutter against his ear, biting his lobe. And everything you do makes him whine and buck himself deeper inside you, hitting the spongy walls deep inside you, needing more of you. Needing you to swallow him whole.

And you comply, raising your hips and lowering them, bouncing yourself on him as if you were only using him to chase your own pleasure. The thought of it makes Eddie shiver and moan, a strangled sound coming out of his constricted throat.

He hopes your hand leaves a mark on his neck, so people know he's yours. So people know that the witch next door spelled him and he is now in love with her. He never wants to get away from her.

"You- you're so good" he whispers, hips rising and falling on his cock, head lolling as you feel yourself get close again.

"Yeah, baby? Thank me, then. Thank your goddess for making you feel so good" you command, and his hands travel through every inch of your body, feeling every ridge and crease and bump. Wanting to feel you, wanting to worship you.

"F-fuck, thank you, thank you, thank you." a prayer to his goddess, for making him feel so good. "Please more, I- I'm so-"

"You're close aren't you?" you coo, cradling the back of his head with your free hand. Making him look at you.

"'M so close, please let me let me let me please" he begins to chant, too far gone from the feeling of your nails digging on the sides of his neck, scratching his sweaty scalp, tongue tracing the outline of his lips as quick and labored breaths escape him.

"C'mon, cum for me" you whisper in his ear, letting go of his neck and latching your lips onto him, leaving a few purple bruises on his milky skin.

You feel him spill inside you with a whine, shivering, while you ride him for all he is, chasing your own release.

You follow him soon after, biting down on his shoulder. The taste of his sweaty skin lingering on your tongue.

You stay clung to him for a few minutes after, quiet and panting as he revels in the post- orgasmic feeling you've just given him.

"Never thought I would've been the submissive type" he huffs out with a laugh as you climb off of him.

"Well, you're welcome. Gonna go have a milk bath, be right back" you stand, reveling in the feeling of his spent spilling out of you.

He hears the shower turn on and as he's getting dressed, Circe comes to nuzzle on his lap.

He raises an eyebrow.

Where has she been the whole time? The rooms of your apartment were all open when you got back. She was probably just taking a nap in your bed.

He shrugs as he delivers a couple pets to her head.

Meanwhile in the bathroom, a spell book is suspended mid air as you look a spell to get rid of a hickey that Eddie had left on your neck.

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