#like I was INCAPABLE of just enjoying something without being like | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sinsofsummers · 10 months

Text

sensational; part iii

6.1k | joel miller x f!innocent!reader part one | part two

summary: joel continues teaching you everything you need to know about desire. warnings: smut smut smut, 18+, mdni. yearning, teasing, thigh-sitting, grinding, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), fingers in mouth, joel almost loses control, age gap (reader is 25, joel is 56). i think that's everything. suchhhh impaired(drunk) editing. i'm so osrry. note: here it is. about a week later than i had planned. but i turned 21. cut me some slack HAHAHHAHA i hope you enjoy this unintentional third part to sensational! note: special shoutout to @cavillscurls bc she not only requested that joel call reader "babygirl" at least once but also that there be some aftercare so....this one's all for u pretty girl i hope your day is an easy one <3 ty for being my very first friend on here wahhh

Joel was used to the chill in his bones. It had been there since his thirty-sixth birthday, and had hardly begun to slip away until he'd met that quiet girl with a fiery spirit like his daughter. Ellie had made the icy tension thaw, and then he met her, the woman who'd begun to melt his very insides.

Was it her curiosity that was so...endearing? Astute? An inevitable addition to his patrols with her? Or was it the fact that she'd begun to smile when she saw him, if only a tight-lipped grin that emitted a soft glow like a secret shared with whispers?

He wasn't quite sure he even wanted to know what it was that had him hardening at the sight of her. So instead of thinking about it—something he wasn't very good at, anyway—Joel returned to his current position in the present moment.

He was on horseback, his gloved hands tightened on the reins, and she was perched in front of him, her back pressed gingerly to his chest and her thighs warming the insides of his.

Joel's mind wandered to the morality of his intentions, as they usually did when she was this close to him. What's she want with you, old man? That voice loved to pester him all day long, but he shoved it away this time when he pretended to adjust his hands on the reins. The movement made his arms tense around her frame, and other than her head tilting back to nudge his chin, there was no response. He thanked the horse for its strong, rocking movements that kept her body tense and pressed into his.

This girl is gonna be the death of me, he mused. And what a painless death it would be.

—

Despite the fact that you were entirely okay with this turn of events, you couldn't ignore the instinctual worry that bit at your insides. When you'd shown up at the stables that morning, Joel had already arrived, leading his horse by the reins.

"C'mon, doll," he said in that rough morning voice that was so attractive. "You're ridin' with me today."

Your brows had furrowed, and you looked toward the stables. "What about—"

Joel had shaken his head and held out a gloved hand for you. "Your horse is no good today," he said (with a less-than-convincing note of sorrow in his voice, but why would he show emotion for once in his life?), clearing his throat before finishing, "just you, me, and this one today," with a nod to his horse.

"Is he gonna be okay?" you asked as you took his hand, the heavy weight of his grip returning to you as a comfort now. "What's wrong with him?" He led you forward, but you couldn't help glancing back once more as if you were a kid getting dragged away by her parents from a candy store.

He squeezed your hand and smiled softly at you. "Gimme your hands, sweet girl," he murmured.

You obeyed without a second thought and let him help you up, the winter wind whipped around your hair despite it being trapped in your usual knit hat. His hands tightened around your hips as he booted you up, and you mourned the moment they left your body. Of course, that sensation didn't last long; he clambered up and mounted right behind you.

Oh. You hadn't considered that this would be the solution to your horse being incapable of patrolling today. Maybe this won't be so bad, you thought, feeling your cheeks heat up despite the chill. You let out a shaky breath at the press of his chest against your back.

"My horse?" you asked once more, despite not quite caring anymore; his arms were now enveloping you as he began making his way to the edges of Jackson.

His sigh created a brief cloud of mist in the wintry air, and the vibrations of his voice rumbled through your body. "Broken leg," he explained quietly, and you felt more than heard his words.

You wanted nothing more than to let yourself sink into the feeling of being so close to him like this, with your hips nestled right in front of his pelvis (a fact that was bound to distract you soon enough), but you forced yourself to inquire a final time.

"A broken leg?" you said. You didn't mean for it to come off as disbelieving, but...your mount had been just fine the day before.

Joel shrugged and instead of answering, he leaned in closer to your ear, his chapped lips scratching against the soft skin near your neck; your eyes fluttered closed at the feeling. "Darlin'," he murmured, "don't you trust me?" One of his hands dropped the reins and curled around your middle, tugging you by the waist back into him. "I've got so much to teach you today."

The reminder that there was still more, that there was always more for Joel to teach you in the world of desire and sin...it was enough to have your mind going blank and your muscles relaxing at his touch. "Okay," you mumbled, not sure if he could even hear your answer.

His gloved hand moved up just a few inches before moving back to grab the reins, but you didn't miss the feeling (if only for a second) of his fingers brushing against the soft curve of your breasts.

You sighed gently and leaned back enough for your head to rest against his chest, your body full encased by his broad shoulders and burly arms. It was secure, it was safe, and the heady scent of leather and Joel nearly made your head spin. With all the possibilities of what he might want to teach you today, on patrol and so close to one another...you weren't sure you'd survive.

It was only a matter of time before your hands and mind completely lost their withering hold on social decorum.

—

Joel's composure was the first to slip, but you weren't far behind—of course, you'd never admit it to him. You'd made it about an hour outside of Jackson, your body rocking deliciously against his, and nothing but the wind to accompany your soft voices as you spoke.

"Those girls haven't bothered me anymore, you know," you said, turning your head to look over your shoulder at him. You nearly choked at the sight of him already looking down at you, his mustache twitching with his lips in a curious smirk. "Not sure what made them stop, though."

"S'good," he said, his jaw clicking before he continued. "But you're like an open book, doll," he said, eyes flitting back to his surroundings. "I'm sure they could see it on your face."

You huffed, cheeks warming again. "See what exactly?"

Joel reached down with a hand to run his fingers along your thigh, creeping closer to where a puddle of desire was growing between your legs. You leaned your head against his chest again and let out a wanton sigh, wishing his hands would creep closer to where you needed him most.

"That," he said, voice lilting with a satisfied arrogance. "It's that sweet face you make when you're wantin' somethin' from me."

"I don't have a face," you mumbled, your arms looping around his biceps and hanging on to them. It's terribly domestic, a voice murmured in your head, but you shoved it away. "What are you talking about?"

Joel leaned his head down to yours, his mouth in your hair. You felt him smile against your skin and he cooed, "Don't worry your pretty little head about that, babygirl." He moved his hand to your thigh once more and chuckled into your hair when you rolled your hips back into his. "Just let me make you feel good, sweetheart."

You wanted nothing more than to sink into his soft touches and whine his name until he brought you to the edges of ecstasy again, but the winter wind howled in your ears and reminded you that you couldn't afford to lose all composure. There was a very real reason you were on patrol; it would have been irresponsible to indulge in the sweet pleasure of Joel's touch.

And yet—you couldn't help it when you lifted your chin and pressed a swift kiss to his jaw, hoping beyond hope that it might prompt him to touch you, to kiss you, to do anything to relieve the familiar ache that was growing. It was all you could do not to begin begging right then and there.

So when he suggested that the two of you take a pit stop at one of the old abandoned cabins along your route, you nodded feverishly. It's not irresponsible if we're taking proper precautions, you convinced yourself.

"C'mon, dollface," he murmured, pulling the reins to a halt in front of a dilapidated shack in the wintry landscape. "Can't hardly focus with you rubbin' up against me like that."

The breathless chuckle that you let out sounded nothing like yourself; you were giddy with the impending pleasure that was about to come from Joel's lips, his fingers, anything that he might deem useful in bringing you another crumbling orgasm.

You practically fell off the horse into his arms with your tingling excitement, and Joel chuckled as your chest collided with his. “So eager, darlin’,” he mused, adjusting your knit hat where it had fallen below your eyes. “Makin’ me feel so special with that sweet face,” he said, his large hand snaking around your back to support you as the two of you traipsed through the snow to the cabin.

It was only a little alarming that his hands on your body were so familiar after just a few of his “lessons,” but you chose to ignore it and sink into the weight of his warm hands perforating your coat. “Joel,” you breathed, and you didn’t mean for it to sound so desperate, but you couldn’t help it.

Joel pushed open the door to the cabin—it took a few tries; it was frozen shut—and tied up his mount. “C’mere,” he whispered as soon as the door was shut behind you. His lips were on yours before you could suck in a breath of anticipation, and oh, how you loved the scrape of his chapped lips against your skin when he moved to press kisses to the line of your jaw.

“Been thinkin’ of you, dollface,” he mumbled when he pulled back, his breath fanning over your face. “Been thinkin’ of you a lot.”

You blinked up at him, your lips already wet and wanting for more of his attention. With that dark look in his eyes, he looked as if he might devour you without a moment’s notice. Despite your ever-present reticence toward the things that Joel had taught you so far, you couldn’t ignore the way that your mouth had dried, mind empty of all words.

“Yeah?” you managed, swallowing roughly. In pure humiliation, you leaned forward to hide your face in his chest, inhaling that comforting scent of leather—it both cleared and muddled your head.

He let out a rumbling chuckle, a looser laugh than you’d ever heard from him, and he placed his gloved hands on the sides of your face to tilt your head back up to him. “Yeah,” he said gently, dropping a kiss to your forehead. “Probably a little too much, considering I can hardly get through the night without gettin’ a hard-on.”

Your cheeks warmed as you blushed, and you instinctively tried to duck your head once more. Of course, Joel wouldn’t let you; he quickly rid his hands of his gloves and returned them to your cheeks, the chill of his fingertips contrasting with the heat of your cheeks. “You gonna kiss me again?” you asked, your voice small in its pleading. “Please?” you added, the syllable even quieter than the last.

“Fuck’s sake,” Joel murmured, and you weren’t sure if it was to you or to himself. He pulled you closer, and you could feel the hard outline of his cock against your hip. “Gonna kill me, dollface,” he groaned before he captured your lips in another bruising kiss, one that had your legs buckling. He kept you upright, with his hands wrapped tightly around your back.

His tongue swept across your bottom lip and you opened your mouth into his kiss, hardly able to believe how natural it felt to kiss him now. A strangled moan left your mouth and he swallowed it into his own, drinking it like a sweet nectar from the gods. His hands came up to feverishly rid you of your winter coat and you eagerly assisted him, clawing at his layers right after.

“Teach me,” you begged, pulling away to catch your breath. Your eyes didn’t even open; you were too blissed out to care what you looked like or what he looked like in front of you. “Teach me,” the words came out again, and your bottom lip quivered as if you might shed tears. Your thighs clenched together subconsciously, doing virtually nothing to assist in the pressure that was growing.

Joel hummed and his thumb carefully swept a caressing touch under your eyes, as if catching any tears that might actually fall. “No need to beg anymore, babygirl,” he cooed, “I’ll teach you everything you want to know.” He tugged your hat from your head and smoothed over your undoubtedly knotted mess of locks. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he flashed a smirk at you.

“Promise?” you said, again in that small voice that had you almost kicking yourself. You were supposed to be an adult, mature enough to handle all of this. And you are, the voice in your head spoke harshly, you are.

Joel just nodded and tilted his head back, gesturing for you to follow him further into the cabin. “Stand there for me, doll,” he said, leading you into what must have been the living room some twenty years ago. A couch that looked like it might collapse in on itself sat against the wall, the only piece of furniture in the room.

You stood where he placed you, but his hands dropped from your body when he went to sit down on the couch. With one arm moving to lay across the back of the couch and his jean-clad legs spreading in the way that made you want to kneel in between them, Joel beckoned for you with his other hand. “Now c’mere,” he ushered, and you couldn’t move fast enough.

Your hands reached out to grab for him, to take off his coat and his shirt and let him lay bare before you like he had in your bed, but he shook his head. “Don’t worry ‘bout me, sweetheart,” he reassured you, “remember?”

You knew this; both times before this Joel had made it clear that you needn’t worry about getting him off. You were supposed to sit back and let him show you how to feel good, but you weren’t sure how much longer you’d be able to obey his request. You wanted nothing more than to sit on his lap like he’d had you the first time, and you wanted to rub yourself against his cock so you could see how he looked when he was lost in the throes of his desire.

“Babydoll,” he nudged you gently with his voice, and you blinked. “Hear me?”

Swallowing hoarsely, you shook your head. “Mm?” you hummed in response.

Joel’s lips curled up in a soft smirk. “Already distracted,” he mused to himself. A hand dropped to his thigh, and your eyes latched onto it. You had the sudden urge to take those fingers into your mouth, to feel the strength of his fingertips on your tongue—the fact that those same digits had been shining with your release (more than once) had your legs wobbling once more.

“You’re gonna stand there,” he said, adjusting himself on the couch in a way that had your eyes glued to the growing tent in his jeans, “and I’m gonna watch while you make yourself come.”

You blanched, and the spot between your legs pulsed at the idea. “What?” You couldn’t help the slight disappointment at the realization that this meant he wouldn’t be touching you.

“You heard me.”

“But…” your hands flexed, needing to hold onto something. Your desperation for release was almost enough to have you sinking to the floor. “But…I don’t know how—”

Joel nodded, “You do. I’ve shown you, remember?” His fingers tapped a few times on his thigh, and his eyes slipped to drag along your body as you stood just a few feet from him. “And you know I can’t always be there when you need to come, babydoll,” he hummed. “I need you to show me you’ve learned.”

“But—”

“Show me,” he said, his voice firm despite the gentleness in his face. He palmed his cock through his pants and bucked his hips up. “C’mon, baby. Be good for me, I’ll make it worth it.”

Despite his instructions, you shuffled forward, arms out and reaching for him. You paused in between his legs, feeling the heat from his legs radiating toward you.

But Joel only shook his head with an amused smirk. “No, no, doll,” he murmured. “I’ll come just as quick even if I’m just watchin’ you. I need you to show me what you’ve learned,” he repeated his previous instruction. “Touch yourself, sweet girl. Lemme see how you make yourself feel good.”

You didn’t move, unsure of how to begin—as it was now clear that he wouldn’t let you touch him, nor would he be giving into your requests. Standing there in your sweater and jeans and winter boots, you felt foolish.

“I know you know how to start, baby,” he encouraged you while moving his hand along his hard cock in his jeans. “Take those clothes off, pretty girl.”

With an instruction to follow, your hands began to move, ridding yourself of your sweater and pants, even your thick boots. Standing in just your worn bra, your cotton panties, and your thick wool socks, you looked shyly toward Joel. It felt somewhat humiliating to have his eyes so intently held on you, despite his face being the picture of approval.

He moved his hand once more and then he was unzipping his jeans and reaching into his pants, letting his cock spring free. He let out a shuddering sigh at the sensation; you were sure there was a thick feeling of relief that washed over him at the removal of any tight restriction on his erection. “C’mon, baby,” he cooed, and your eyes widened as he licked a wide stripe on his palm, returning his hand to his cock to give it a languid stroke. “I know you can do it.”

You gingerly dropped a hand to your waist, fiddling with the worn out elastic band of your panties. In front of you Joel let out a soft sigh, his eyebrows furrowing and his dark eyes growing even darker at the sight of your hand getting closer to your mound, where there was certainly a puddle growing.

“Lemme feel it, baby,” he said gruffly, beckoning for you to step closer. “I know I said I wouldn’t touch, but holy fuck, dollface…I’ve never needed to feel something so bad in my life.”

You practically fell over your own two feet as you obeyed his request, stepping into the space between his legs. His cock was right there, and you wanted to put your tongue on the tip, to feel that bead of leaking seed that was sliding down the angry red head of his cock. “Joel—”

His only answer was with his two fingers pressing a featherlight touch to your bud, drawing a quick moan from your lips, your eyes closing and your hips rolling into the feeling.

“So fuckin’ wet, baby, I knew it,” Joel murmured, sitting forward and pressing a kiss to your stomach. “You’re always so wet for me, huh?”

You wanted to roll your eyes. Of course you were; he knew this well enough now. But something about the fact that he kept asking…it only made you want him more.

“Joel, please,” you begged, rolling your hips into his hand again and moaning desperately at the press of his hand against your bud. “I need you to—”

He pulled his hand away and sat back again. “Not yet, dollface,” he reminded you, returning his hand to his cock. “You haven’t even touched yourself, darlin’,” he teased, his tone a mocking coo.

You let out another strangled whine, but shoved your hand into the waistband of your panties. “Fine,” you sighed, “but it won’t work.” As much as you wanted to come, you were reminded all too well of the last time he asked you to do this. You couldn’t obey his request, and he’d had to make you come all the same. So why would he make you go through the motions again?

Your finger caught on your clit and you inhaled sharply, eyes closing at the addictive sensation. You let your other hand slide up to your chest, instinctively massaging your own breast in the same way that Joel did—at least, as close of a replication as you could make.

“That’s it, sweet thing,” he said in that southern drawl that had you perpetually weak in the knees. “Lookin’ so good like that, sweetheart, good girl,” he drew out the last two syllables, his teeth audibly gritting as he stroked his cock faster.

You wanted to continue, wanted to hold onto the feeling of making him proud, but you didn’t know what to do. “Joel,” you begged, “I…” you trailed off.

Both of his hands came to your waist and you opened your eyes at one squeeze of your hips. “C’mere,” he groaned. “Just sit next to me, doll.” He helped you sit next to him, your head resting on the arm of the couch. Your knees came up to your chest, and he looped his thumbs into your panties, ridding you of them in a quick movement.

Your head was spinning with the hopes that he might give in, that he might not make this foolish game go on for much longer. It had only been a minute or two, but you never wanted to make yourself come if Joel was always going to be so willing. “Joel—”

“Spread those pretty legs for me, baby,” he whispered, his big hands on your knees. When you couldn’t move your legs on your own, he gently nudged them apart, his eyes darting down to your dripping mound. “Fuck,” he hissed, his hand hovering over your folds, “even more appetising than I remember.”

The implication made your head reel. Surely he wouldn’t…

But your thoughts were interrupted when he sat back at the other end of the couch, his cock sitting at the ready as he dragged his hand over it again. “I’m good at waiting, though,” he murmured to himself. “C’mon, princess,” he sighed, “just like we practiced. Hand on that pretty pussy, baby.”

The whine that left your throat was downright pornographic as you obeyed, the sound of his instructions shooting bullets of pleasure down your spine and straight to that sensitive bud at the crevice of your thighs.

Just like we practiced, he’d said. You had no desire to disappoint him; you wanted to prove to him that you could do this, you wanted to see that look of flushed pride on his face when he came again. When you’d make yourself come.

Your fingers slipped around your dripping cunt, still clumsy and untrained despite knowing just how Joel would make you come undone with his touch. You tried your best to replicate it, gliding your fingers in tight circles around your bud, or drawing long stripes in between your folds, but it just made you more frustrated. “Joel,” you whined again, “please.”

You didn’t have to look at him to know he was grinning. “You’re doing it, baby. Look at you, rubbin’ that pretty clit for all it’s worth.” His words were bruisingly confident, but his tone was shaky and the only evidence that he was dangerously close to coming before you.

“Joel, I—” you circled your clit once more— “I need you to—”

“I know, baby, I know,” he cooed, and you felt him shift closer to you—just a centimeter.

You pulled your own hand away from your clit, despite your body begging for more, and you looked for a moment at the shine on your fingers. “Joel,” you repeated, “I…I want you to tell me what to do.”

He was silent for a moment. Then, “That so?” His movements had stopped.

You nodded, and couldn’t help the desperation in your voice. “Yes.” Somehow your legs dropped open even wider, exposing yourself to him further. “Tell me what to do. Tell me what you want me to do.” You swallowed the lump in your throat as you gave yourself entirely to him. “I’ll do it.”

Joel had turned his chest to face you, and he ran a hand over his face. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you, ya know?” he said, and you thought it was a minor jab at your eagerness until he dropped his hand back to his lap and you saw that blissed-out smile that you were learning to ache for. “‘Course I’ll tell you what to do. If that’s what you want,” he answered, and you almost came at the sound of his voice.

He shifted so his body was facing you; the sight of him with his shirt buttoned, his pants still on, but the zipper undone and his cock bobbing heavily as he moved…it was enough to have you rolling your eyes back. Joel Miller was sensational. The essence of sin and seduction, and you only wanted more.

“Lift this leg for me, baby,” he murmured as he lowered his chest to the couch. You let him move your ankle to rest on his shoulder, then the other ankle to match. “That’s it,” he cooed, “you’re such a quick learner, babydoll.”

You blushed at the nickname, and when he sank to his elbows with his eyes on your pussy, your eyes widened. “Joel—”

You’d heard of this type of pleasure, but you’d never thought it was something men actually did. When he looked up at you with that hungry look in his eye, his tongue darting out to wet his lips like one might do before eating an especially good meal, you realized another thing.

You’d never thought this could be something that men actually enjoyed.

“You want instruction, babygirl?” he hummed, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh and chuckling when you shivered. “I’ll give you instruction. Lay back and let me take care of you. You’re always so good at that, yeah?”

He didn’t give you the chance to answer before he was dipping his head down to your most sacred spot, where you needed him most. His hands wrapped around your thighs, holding them against his ears as if they were keeping him warm in the cold temperatures outside. With one stripe from your weeping entrance to your quivering bud, Joel nearly made you come on the spot.

“Joel, I’m gonna—”

He pulled back and smiled wickedly. “Already, baby? We’ve only just started,” he drawled, turning his head to kiss the inside of your other thigh. “Hold on to it for me, yeah? Gotta practice holding it for me, okay?”

You were too far gone to even grace his question with a response. All you could manage was a stuttering moan as you threw your head back and bucked your hips into his face, chasing your release.

Joel held your hips down with a light chuckle. “Wait, princess,” he grinned, pressing a kiss to your clit before continuing, “you don’t wanna fail your lesson, do ya?”

The implication that something might happen—or decidedly not happen—if you were to come before he let you only spurred you on. “Joel, please—”

“Just a little longer, please, baby,” he said, his voice a gentle moan. His tongue grazed your clit once more and he closed his lips over your bud, suckling just lightly enough to bring you closer and closer to the edge.

It was then that you opened your eyes and looked at him; you wanted to see what he looked like with his mouth on your most sensitive spot if you were going to come. Your eyes caught on his hips, laid out on the couch further away from you. You blinked.

Joel was rutting into the couch. His hips were seemingly moving of their own accord, a smooth movement that was covered in sin and desperation. You thought about the fact that the curve of his hips would probably look like that if he were pressing his cock into you, and that was it.

Your voice broke over the sound of your whines, and paired with his fingers coming up to press into your entrance, you were done for. You came hard over his fingers, your moans so loud that you thought someone would hear you all the way back in Jackson. “JoelJoelJoelJoel,” you cried, feeling the familiar rise of emotions in your throat.

Joel pulled his head from your pussy and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Just couldn’t help yourself, huh?” he smirked.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, although you weren’t sure you had the capacity to even be sorry just now; the sight of him getting off at the taste of you was enough to keep your mind busy for the next week. “I didn’t mean to—”

“S’okay, dollface,” he chuckled, “I forgive you. That pussy tastes too sweet to be mad about you comin’ all over my damn face.”

Your thighs lay open for another moment, and Joel absentmindedly put his hand over your clit to rub another gentle circle to your sensitive bud. He hummed when your hips bucked at the overstimulation before pulling his hand away.

Your eyes dropped to his cock, sitting rock hard and definitely not spent. You reached out with your hand again, sitting up. The effects of your orgasm were still heavy on your mind, but in a wordless movement you sank to your knees before him. “You didn’t come,” you said, more of a question than a statement.

He shook his head. “Don’t matter,” he said, patting a hand on your head. “That was just for you, doll.”

You frowned. “But—” you dipped your head down, aiming your mouth at his tip despite not knowing what to do beyond that. All you knew was that this was something he needed. The tip of his cock was leaking profusely now, and you wanted nothing more than to make him feel as good as he’d made you feel.

“We haven’t practiced that one yet, pretty girl,” he said softly, and lifted your head from where it was aiming. “Trust me, doll, I want it just as bad as you want to give it to me.” He traced his thumb along the line of your nose, a habit that he’d been starting to pick up. “But we’ll do it when you’re ready.”

“Then I wanna practice,” you insisted, your knees digging into the cold wooden floor. You didn’t want to think about how you looked, your face showing the remnants of your orgasm and your entrance starting to drip once more at the thought of pleasing him. “Let me practice,” you repeated.

He smiled ruefully. “Got nothin’ to practice on, sweet thing,” he said softly. “We’ll practice another day.”

You took his hand wordlessly, not sure where this bout of confidence was coming from. It was like you were drunk on the thought of making him come. He let you hold his hand in yours, and with one look up at him, holding his eyes in your gaze, you opened your mouth to slide three of his fingers onto your tongue. He tasted like salt and the sweet release of your own body.

Joel jerked in your grip, his cock bobbing toward you and his hand nearly shoving itself all the way down your throat. “Holy fuck, doll,” he groaned, his eyes fluttering closed. “S’enough to make a man leave his wife.”

You chuckled, knowing he was spewing nonsense from his lips now, but you pressed his fingers further down your throat, only stopping when they brushed the back of your throat, causing you to gag.

“That’s okay, babygirl,” he said with another affectionate pat on your head. “You’re doin’ so good. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Thought I was doing well,” you said sheepishly when he pulled his fingers from your mouth. A string of spit connected his fingers to your lips.

He nodded and leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “You are, dollface,” he said. “You are. Maybe it’s me who needs a second to regroup.”

You knew it wasn’t true; his angry red tip was more than enough of a conflicting response to his words. But you let him pick you up from the floor and cradle you in his arms over his lap, rubbing his hands in circles over your body. “You’ll let me make you feel good, though?” you asked softly.

Joel smiled. “‘Course,” he reassured you with a kiss on the cheek. “Next time,” he promised.

It was enough. You nodded and rested your head in the crook of his neck, feeling the gentle curtain of sleep cover you. “M’tired,” you whispered, every inhibition gone. This man had seen and touched every part of you; there was no point in being shy.

“I know, baby, I know,” he said, and when his face wasn’t in between your legs, it was an awfully domestic phrase. “Just lemme hold your for a second. Then we’ll go back home.”

—

You didn’t know how you’d managed to get back on the horse, your clit sensitive and your whines hoarse with the constant friction as you rode back to Jackson. Your head had leaned back against Joel’s chest and he rested his chin against the top of your head, a constant warm presence as you rose from your post-orgasm haze.

A happy accident, a faraway voice mused in your head. One horse with Joel on patrol? A dream.

That is, until Tommy came out of the stables as you two approached.

“Why’d you leave her horse here?” he called out, and you felt Joel tense behind you. “You forget how to ride a damn horse, darlin’?” Tommy said to you with that same southern drawl that his older brother shared in his voice.

You blushed as Joel helped you down from his mount, and you hid your uncontrollable laughter behind your hand when he shared some tense words with his brother.

“Fuck off,” Joel finished, but by the look of his wide eyes and red cheeks, you knew it held no malice. He was embarrassed. He’d faked your horse’s injury so he could hold you close. The realization made your head whirl.

You walked off from the stables when the horse was returned to his stall, and you giggled when you heard Joel hurry to catch up with you.

He looked around for a moment, as if checking to see if anyone was nearby, and then he delivered a quick swat to your ass, making you nearly trip in the snow. “S’not nice to laugh at an old man,” he said with a straight face, all business. But you could see the uncharacteristic rosiness in his cheeks, betraying his continued humiliation.

You weren’t sure where the confidence in your voice came from, but you sighed with a, “Yeah,” before nudging him with your elbow. “Can’t help it when it’s your own brother, Joel.”

He shook his head and your arm tingled when he reached out with his gloved hand to clasp onto yours. “What am I gonna do with you, dollface, huh?” he mumbled, and you weren’t quite sure if you were meant to hear it until he looked down at you with a gentle smirk and a raised brow.

You shrugged, your own cheeks heating up at the implications of what you were about to say. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out. Make another lesson out of it, I suppose.”

Joel just stared at you, a smug expression on his face. He tore his eyes from yours and played the part of nonchalance when he responded smoothly, mirth twinkling in those brown eyes you’d grown so attached to. “Maybe I will.”

this is so sinful i'm so tipsy rn i hope you liked it!!!! tysm for reading i love u all <3

tags (i'm so sorry it wouldn't let me tag everyone!!! i'll do the rest of my tags in the morning!!!): @morning-star-joy @thetriumphantpanda @cupofjoel @tightjeansjavi @dinsdjrn @mingiast @darkroastjoel @huffle-punk @jupiter-soups @elegantduckturtle @evyiione @bitchwitch1981 @disassociation-daydreams @mrsquill @littlemisssluttyknee @papipascalispunk @mumma-moonchild @buckbarnesdollsposts @kamcrazy123 @djarins-wife @lovelyladiess @impossiblebluebirdchaos @salsdemise @daddy-din @chaotic-mystery @laughcryreadsmutrepeat @prose-before-hoes-blog @morgaussy @thepriceofdevotion @chateausophie @livyjh @kittenlittle24 @ever-siince-new-york @julietamidala @3xclusive-y0ni @paanchusblog @okdeedee @scarletsloveletter @paleidiot @cleopatra99 @samuncenxsored @yourfavoriteredheadbitch-blog @brie-annwyl @spxctorsslxt @pattwtf @meijasworldasf @easaud @yuk-for-president @withrice-ontoast @ssssc0m @nini123 @bookishofalder @projectionistwrites @leeeesahhh

3K notes · View notes

variousqueerthings · 8 months

Text

okay I watched good omens s2 yesterday with my partner, and I was genuinely very surprised -- I think if you've grown up through superwholock/merlin/the 100/teen wolf type shows where (with the exception periodically of doctor who) you kind of had to make up the good show that something could have been in your head, that colours a lot of your viewing, and to be honest I thought season 1 of good omens was a fine little piece, honoured the book while modernising it somewhat, it was a nice, fun, low stakes time, with a couple of things I might have wanted a tad different but nothing overall awful.

so I was seeing all this meta and gifsets and discussion, while I was waiting to give s2 a watch with my partner and thought "ah, people have made up the good show in their heads again" not that I assumed s2 was going to be a bad show, but that people were taking extra deep plunges into possibilities, the way fandom does, and that was fine. I knew there was a big ol kiss, I had a sense of some kind of argument at the end, and that it was setting up a s3

I also knew that mainstream reviews were calling it (politely) self-indulgent and dependent on whether or not you enjoy david tennant and michael sheen having a good time for just under 6 hours

all in all, expectations of a somewhat mainstream show without too much to think about, a nice, fun low stakes time, moving on...

(EDIT: AND THEN I WROTE A LOT OF WORDS SO YOU CAN IMAGINE THAT MY REACTION WAS QUITE DIFFERENT)

as it turns out it seems these things that were being written on tumblr were discussing the actual text of the show and not things you could extrapolate if you squinted and tilted your head a little to the left as I'm so used to doing, so in fact there is much to think about!

and my first thought was "this is like when you read early discworld books that ask a question like a joke, only to find that over time the answer to that question becomes very serious (and also can be funny at times of course)." how terry pratchett would pick and pick at tropes and notions and social ideas and go "oh now hold on, this seems strange..." starting way back when he thought it was odd that women warriors always seemed to be dressed in metal bikinis and then realising he hadn't done a good enough job of subverting the trope, simply by depicting it and calling it a bit silly

why do goblins always get treated as the villains? what's with this divine succession of kings business? where are the female dwarfs? who do we treat as disposable?

good omens season one went: "haha what if heaven and hell were intensely incapable, bureaucratic, corrupt, and uncaring of the work they did, and we took an angel and a demon and had them actually care? wouldn't that be... a bit silly?" (and it was)

good omens season two went: "what are the consequences for caring when the people who have power over you are incapable, bureaucratic, corrupt, and uncaring? what are the forces that supersede systems built on fear, ignorance, and violent conformity? can people change and break out of/challenge/break down these structures by caring?"

and this was set up with a neat little sleight of hand (to reference aziraphale's switch-and-bait in the episode with the nazi zombies), because the majority of season 2 does feel a bit indulgent: hey, remember those two wacky angel-and-demon characters? watch some more wacky things they did through the ages, watch them take a sojourn through 1827 Edinburgh and do a magic show during the Blitz, and... stop the death of Job's and Sitis' children (actually maybe that whole segment ought to have been what they call "A Clue")

see them try to figure out a kooky mystery, all the while setting up a cute little same-gender romance on their street. watch as everything points towards a happy ending that's all about the two of them realising what they've been to one another all these thousands and thousands (and thousands and thousands) of years- but hold on. lest we forget - and the show has made this point over and over - there are powerful people who control them, who hurt them, and who plan on hurting others, throughout the whole season, and as it turns out they know what they've been to one another for far far longer, and know how to pull their strings...

season 2 then, has to show us these things, not because they're indulgent (well, maybe occasionally, but the apology dance is still important), but because in order to make the ending a tragedy, we first need to understand, properly, the impact that they have had on each other. we need to understand that Aziraphale relied heavily on Crowley to be his moral compass and leaned on black-and-white thinking in order to deal with things, because if it's all grey then where does he fit and what has it all meant and heaven has to be the good guys, even as Job's and Sitis' children are ordered to be killed, it's all he ever had...

and Crowley was always an anchor, needed to trust that Aziraphale was different, needed to bend to every whim that Aziraphale has, because otherwise what's his worth in all this? After having been already deemed worthless by the heaven that Aziraphale needs to believe in?

and that, simplistically described, is the narrative that we're seeing in s2, and alongside that the ways that the changes they have upon each other are noticed, and monitored, and placed under suspicion, and finally... broken up, not by the clumsy, brute force that's been attempted over and over again, but by a promise to return into a violent, controlling system and to "make it better from within"

and all of this is wrapped up in two queer relationships + a third queered-within-the-text relationship that creates the inverse of how it ends for Aziraphale and Crowley (so far). queer love -- whatever shape that has -- is explicitly the shape of non-conformity within this narrative, including within the symbolism of angel-and-demon love of Gabriel and Beelzebub, which in the context of the systems created is considered queer (and one can argue till the cats come home about casting cis actors, about angel-and-demon notions of gender/romance/sexuality, but the "queerness" comes from building something non-conforming to the systems they exist in), and enforced by the explicitly our-world-definition-of queer romance that Nina and Maggie have going on (which, while less high stakes, still contains the background controlling relationship that Nina initially is in)

all of this to say, that I disagree that s2 meanders, or that plotlines happen for the sake of showcasing Aziraphale and Crowley without purpose, or that characters get sidelined (I'd say it sets up a whole host of interesting characters to further get into actually), or that it's strictly mainstream easy-access narrative that's just an excuse for the main creators and actors to get back together.

the love is the point, and this show takes its time to show the love (and the unequal boundary-setting, and the fact that one of them has an undiscussed tragic backstory, and the desperation to belong again, and the fear instilled by oppressive systems, and and and), so that we understand why those last 15 minutes happen the way that they do

it's sleight of hand, and like all good magic, you don't notice until it's happened

#good omens #go2 #good omens season 2 #neil gaiman #david tennant #michael sheen

1K notes · View notes

eufezco · 4 months

Text

HEART TO HEART — FINNICK ODAIR x FEM!READER

Synopsis — It's hard to get your life back on track when the Capitol has gotten inside your head but Finnick is there to help you. You were enjoying a party in District 13 when you discovered something that triggered you.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ And I break down, then he's pulling me in. In a world of boys, he's a gentleman ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Finnick looked at Katniss and considered himself a lucky man.

Although both of them had managed to get back the loves of their lives, their situations now were quite different from what they were used to. Finnick now looked at Peeta and realized how the Capitol had completely destroyed the friend he made in the games, making him incapable of telling the difference between what was real and what the Capitol put in his head. Finnick saw the sadness grow in Katniss' eyes as she and Peeta couldn't spend more than five minutes together without him wanting to jump on her neck.

You, on the other hand, had your moments of lucidity.

Finnick considered himself lucky for being able to enjoy the person you were before the Capitol took you, but the longer those moments lasted, the worse your breakdowns were.

Even though he considered himself luckier than Katniss, it wasn't being easy for him either. He hated to see you fighting the medical team from District 13 while they were trying to inject you with a sedative and the way he had to hold you so they could do it. He hated to see you with your hands and legs tied to the bed as you tried to free yourself from the straps that held you to the mattress. He hated to see your eyes red with rage, the way you flinched when someone made an unexpected move next to you, and how you could not help but be alert to everything that was going on around you.

But Finnick also appreciated when he saw you smile, or talking to someone who wasn't him, or seeing that you had changed your clothes that day or enjoying your meal in the dining room. The way your eyelashes fluttered when he spoke to you like he was the most magnificent thing you had ever seen, how you were always looking to have some sort of physical contact with him whether it was sitting too close at the table or something more subtle like seeking for his hand in the crowd as you listened to the words that Alma Coin pronounced.

The Capitol caused irreparable damage but they had not been able to take everything from you.

―Let's give a huge round of applause to Sarah and Mike from District 11!

The two siblings had been singing since dinner was over along with their band. The lights in the dining room were dimmer, not the cold white ones that gave you a headache every time you went inside. They had set up a small stage and some decorations on the ceiling. Alma Coin knew that Christmas was close and wanted to do something special to raise people's spirits, and it seemed to be working because after dinner, people had stayed to listen to the siblings sing, and some had even encouraged to go out and dance.

―We still have time for a couple more songs, any requests? ―The boy spoke into the microphone, looking at the audience.

It was your hand that rose.

Finnick and Katniss who were sitting at the table with you looked at each other. You got up from the table and walked to the stage, well, you didn't feel your feet moving on the floor, it was more like you were floating. You were enjoying the little concert so much that you had managed to remember all the lyrics of the songs that they had performed when just a few days ago you couldn't even remember your name, your feet moved under the table following the rhythm of the instruments and you even hummed some of the words.

Both siblings approached the edge of the stage and bent down to listen to the title of the song you were asking for. They looked at each other, satisfied, and more than approving your request. You went back to your seat at the table, happy, and before Katniss and Finnick could ask about the song, the little girl called your name through the microphone.

―Why don't you come and sing with us? ―She asked you in her sweet voice. All the people in the dining room were waiting for your answer, some you knew were encouraging you to come up like Haymitch and Effie, and others you knew were judging you just by the way their eyes were on you like Gale, but you didn't care because since your return you had never wanted anything so much as to get on that stage with those two kids.

Finnick held your hand, his eyebrows drawn together. ―Are you sure?

You nodded and showed him a little smile, reassuring him.

They welcomed you with smiles and sweet gestures to show you where to stand. They had placed a microphone in the middle of the two siblings for you.

―May I? ―You asked for the guitar the young girl was holding. She showed you a smile and gave it to you. The guitar felt out of place in your hands, as if it was a stranger and it was the first time you were meeting each other. That was not the truth, the truth was that you had been playing the guitar for as long as you could remember. You liked to play it for the children at District 4 while they sat around the campfire in the sand accompanied by Finnick and they sang with you. But now it all seemed so far away and the instrument felt odd in between your fingers.

You coughed to clear your throat without realizing that you did it right into the microphone. Finnick smiled at how innocent that had been and you smiled embarrassed. ―Sorry.

The two siblings from District 11 were looking at you with their big eyes and with smiles of comfort on their faces, waiting for you to start singing but all those people staring at you was all you could think about. You couldn't remember how the lyrics started.

Finnick nodded at you from the audience.

Can't take my past Can't take my history

The little girl sang for you. There was a friendly expression on her face. Her eyebrows were raised as she was singing the beginning of the song and she nodded as she looked at you, trusting that you knew the words and helping you with her kind gesture to find them.

You could take my pa But his name's a mystery

Her brother continued singing. A similar expression was on his face. Apart from your friends and Finnick, you had trouble finding people who trusted you in District 13. You didn't blame them because even you found it hard to trust yourself.

Nothing you can take from me Was ever worth keeping Nothing you can take Was ever worth keeping

Your voice didn't sound as you expected, it was still the same sweet voice as always. You expected to have completely destroyed it after all the screaming you did at the Capitol, but no, your voice was still there, just as Finnick remembered it. He was trying very hard not to burst into tears because he knew you were watching him.

The band played the song perfectly on their instruments while you tried to follow them on the guitar and more people listening to the lively rhythm of the song came out and danced in the center of the dining room.

Can't take my charm Can't take my humor You can't take my wealth 'Cause it's just a rumor Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

Those lines you were singing meant so much, it was like pulling the middle finger to the Capitol. He had never seen you so happy since before the Quarter Quell. There was a smile on your lips while you sang, your body moved to the rhythm of the son, your hands moved skilfully on the guitar, and the boy and the girl from District 11 danced on the stage around you.

―Come on. ―Katniss stood and Finnick looked up at her with his green eyes glassy thanks to the tears.

―Come on where? ―Finnick asked.

―We're gonna dance.

Katniss took his hands and dragged him to the dance floor.

Thinking you're so fine, thinking you can have mine Thinking you're in control Thinking you'll change me, maybe rearrange me Think again, if that's your goal

You laughed into the microphone watching them and you handed the little girl her guitar back. You came down from the stage to join them. Katniss stepped back when she saw you coming and you followed Finnick's movements. He had always been a very good dancer so you let him lead you. You twirled around, laughing, until you were so dizzy that you had to wrap your arms around Finnick's neck, your fingers digging into his hair while his arms went around your waist.

―You were amazing. ―He told you, speaking a little louder so that you could hear him over the music. You hugged him again.

―I love you so much.

Finnick cupped both of your cheeks and kissed you. ―I love you too. ―He said before the group of little girls pulled you by the arm so you'd dance with them.

He kept dancing or something like that with Katniss but with his eyes fixed on you. The girls were being so nice; two of them held your hands while the other two were dancing on their own. Their hairs were tied up in braids and they even asked you if they could braid yours later.

But all of a sudden, you let go of their hands and took a few steps backward, bumping into the people dancing. The girls looked at you worried, had they done something wrong? ―No, no, no. ―You mumbled to yourself.

Finnick stopped and approached you quickly, pushing people out of his way when he saw the change in your mood. He took your face in between his hands, looking for your eyes but they were focused on something that wasn't him. You pushed him once his hands cupped your cheeks, only making eye contact with him for a few seconds and then going back to focus on something else.

When Finnick decided to follow your gaze, he felt a wave of heat form in his lower body and rise to his head. Cressida was behind Castor, directing how the shots of you dancing with the girls should look like. By that time you already left the room.

You tried to record a propo a few days after your arrival in District 13. Heavensbee, but especially Coin, were very insistent that you should do it. They said that your rescue and your dedication to the revolution would bring hope to the people resisting in the districts. You weren't too sure about it, much less Finnick and Katniss, who could see how bad was your state to be exposed to something like that.

You were still in a daze, confused with everything that was going on, and very weak physically when you stood in front of the camera in the ruins of District 13 covered with white roses. The smell of the flowers made you fall to your knees in the debris before Finnick could catch you and throw up everything you had eaten since you were taken out of the Capitol.

―I'm okay, I can do this. ―You said, wiping your mouth with the cuff of your uniform, but it was not true and you found out that when you got in front of the camera. Castor pointed the lens at you while Cressida repeated behind him what you were supposed to say. The spotlights were on you and also were the eyes of the president herself, who had come to the surface to see you film the propo, and suddenly you were back at the Capitol, sitting in front of Caesar Flickerman, drugged to the point where you could not remember your name just the words they'd been repeating for you to say during the interview. Your outfit was tight, your face was covered with powder and make-up so that the bruises would not be visible.

―Don't make me regret rescuing you. ―Alma Coin said to you with a smile on her face before the propo. Something similar to what he told you when the Capitol took you out of the arena.

―Don't make me regret not killing you.

After that day, only one type of images of you was broadcast for the rest of the districts to see and they were of you living your life in District 13, recording you when you didn't notice and taking advantage of the moments when you were doing well to show it to the rest of the nation and obviously, without your consent.

Finnick was not happy with that decision and he made sure to make it clear at the meeting at which it was discussed, shouting, running his hands over his face, offering himself to do all the propos they wanted. He was desperate to get them to let you recover in peace.

Katniss agreed with Finnick. She did not like the idea of turning you into a product to fool people into thinking that everything was fine, much less without having your approval. Haymitch and Effie were silent but neither did they agree with what Alma Coin wanted to do with you and Beetee suggested other options but nothing was as valuable to Alma as your image.

The only ones who openly agreed with Heavensbee and Coin were Cressida and Gale. She said that it would be good for the spirit of rebellion and that they would do it so discreetly that you would never know. On the other hand, it seemed like Gale had a lot to say even though he didn't know you at all, and because of that, he ended up in the infirmary that afternoon after he replied to Finnick's complaints by saying:

―There are times when we have to do things we don't want to do, you should know that better than anyone else.

And Finnick couldn't help himself and get up from his seat and before Gale could finish speaking Finnick's fist was already against his cheekbone. That same hand with which Finnick hit Katniss' friend was now smacking Castor's camera into the floor, a gasp could be heard from the people who had stopped dancing to see what was happening. Finnick pointed at Cressida with his index finger, threateningly.

―I warned you to keep that shit away from her.

Katniss was fast to intervene, stepping in between Finnick and the woman. She looked at Cressida with pure rage but knew she couldn't do anything with all those people watching ―Go find her.

Finnick approached the girls you had been dancing with. He knelt by their side. ―Did you see where she went? ―He asked kindly to them, perfectly hiding his nervousness. One of them pointed at one of the doors and he immediately knew where you were. He flashed a smiled to her as a thank you.

―Have we done something wrong? ―She played with her hands.

―No, she was having lots of fun with you. ―Finnick caressed the hair at the top of the little girl's head and stood on his feet.

―When you find her, please tell her we still want to braid her hair.

You were sitting on the floor, holding your legs close to your chest. You had already hidden in that place several times before. It was Katniss who found the first time because it was the same place where she would hide right after she was rescued.

You moved back and forth, mumbling words that Finnick could not decipher, and with your head down, your forehead resting on your arms. When you heard Finnick's footsteps getting closer, you tried to escape him, crawling backward and watching as he quickly approached so that you couldn't get too far away. He fell to his knees in front of you, grabbing your cheeks again to make you look at him.

―It's me. It's Finnick.

You analysed his face, your eyes moving fast across his face looking for any friendly features on that face but all you could see was the face of a traitor. Your lips trembled as they continued to mumble I don't think I can forgive him for what he's doing, Caesar. I didn't know Finnick Odair was like that, I didn't know he would join the rebellion. What you do in the games is one thing but what you do outside the arena is what defines you.

―You're safe. We're in District 13, you're not there anymore.

You're right, Caesar. He has tricked me into thinking he was someone he is not. I thank president Snow everyday for helping me realize.

―You're from District 4. We live together. Our house is near to the beach. You won the 72th Hunger Games. We went back to the arena for the Quarter Quell. The Capitol took you. I'm Finnick Odair. I was your mentor along with Max.

If he were watching this I would tell him to think for himself. It's not too late to start doing things right and stop this war, and if he is unrepentant and this has always been his true self, Caesar, I think I may have never lov...

―You're here with us and we will protect you. Katniss is here at District 13 and so are Johanna and Peeta.

...I think I may have never lo...

―You're okay, baby.

...I may have never...

You hugged Finnick tightly against you, your eyes wide open and your hands shaking from the strength you were putting into holding him to be able to feel he was real. ―I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't know what's going on. I feel like I'm losing my mind. ―You cried.

Finnick shook his head while he held you almost as strongly as you held him. He kept whispering sweet words until he felt how your body began to relax. Finnick carefully pulled you away from him so he could use his thumbs to wipe away the tears running down your cheeks. ―It's fine, I'm here with you. It's not your fault, they've done horrible things to you but you're with me now, you're safe. They will have to go over my dead body to get their hands on you again.

He helped you to move so that you were sitting on his lap, with your head resting on his chest and his arms around your body. When some time passed and you calmed down, he could see it in the way your body had stopped shaking and also because you had stopped sobbing a while ago but you didn't want to separate from him, Finnick decided to try to cheer you up.

―Do you know who told me where you went?

You shook your head, really curious.

―Those new friends you made on the dance floor.

You pressed your lips into a smile, you were having so much fun with those little girls...―They were so cute, I must have scared them.

Finnick shook his head and kissed your temple. ―Not at all. They told me they'll wait for you. They said they wanted to braid your hair.

Now you really smiled, snuggling into his chest.

―Do you want me to take you to our room?

You shook your head, making yourself comfortable in Finnick's lap. It was not the most comfortable or welcoming place to be but he didn't want to rush you to leave. He was aware that they would be looking for you two, they would take you away from him and lock you in a room next to Peeta's, thinking that you were a menace and putting you in a place where the screams of the boy next door would drive you crazy.

―We can stay here for as long as you want then.

You hummed in response, closing your eyes and focusing on Finnick holding you in between his arms. Thanks to your head on his chest and the silence, you could hear Finnick's heart and you were relieved because it was the realest thing you had ever experienced. Its beats were peaceful but still managed to quiet all the noise in your head.

You were so immersed in Finnick's heartbeat you would swear yours was beating so hard against your chest because it wanted to escape your body so it could be closer to his.

#finnick odair #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair angst #finnick odair smut #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick imagine #finnick odair imagine #the hunger games #the hunger games imagine #thg #thg finnick #thg imagine #tbosas #thg angst #thg fluff #finnick #sam claflin

873 notes · View notes

crowsandkisses · 18 days

Text

De-polute me - Astarion x reader

Note: Astarion means a lot to me as a character and this is kinda based off of my own trauma because I see a lot of myself in him. I also haven't written in a minute so pardon any weird phrasing.

The reader is as vaguely described as I could manage so any and all can enjoy

cw: Trauma, vomit, panic attack.

--------------------------

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Astarion knew he had to snap out of it. To come back to the present where he lay with his lover. But he couldn’t.

It was like watching the world through water. Everything was the same but somehow not. Like there was a distance and the other side held a place where he couldn’t survive right now. Where the air would leave his lungs with no way of replenishing itself. That he would choke on what he was faced with.

He watched how you slept, chest slowly rising and falling in the dim light of the fire. Still in a state of undress.

His eyes lingered on the bite on your neck. Two little puncture marks that had been reopened by his fangs so often they’d started to scar.

It made his stomach twist and turn, bile rising up his throat as he zeroed in on these tiny wounds.

He felt filthy for having left them there, even though you’d assured him time and again that it was alright. Sometimes you even enjoyed it.

But he couldn’t think of anything but how much of a parasite he was.

Leeching off of your goodwill and kindness, repaying you with his body because it was the only way he knew how. To lie on his back, purr some pretty phrases and slot into that old, familiar role of seductive pretty boy.

He had to give something back. He had to. Otherwise you’d likely come to demand payment regardless. Everyone always did. No kindness was just done for the sake of being kind.

His stomach turned again as guilt set in, draping over his shoulders like a heavy blanket. He knew he shouldn’t think these things of you but he couldn’t help it.

Quietly, he rose from his spot next to you. A place he didn’t feel should belong to him. Hells, he had seen the way Gale looked at you when he thought no one else paid attention. He could give the gentle kind of love Astarion felt incapable of.

He could grant you warmth Astarion didn’t possess. He could cook for you, share a meal, not have to leech off your body to keep himself alive.

Astarion walked a distance further into the treeline and all at once, his body lurched and his last meal found itself on the forest floor. He gagged and retched, tears flowing down his cheeks from discomfort and humiliation.

His pride felt wounded as he emptied his stomach, spitting after to try and clear the sour, copper taste from his mouth. He still stood bent over, vision blurred with tears as he fought a sob.

Suddenly he felt like a child again, desperately longing for his mother, who’s face he’d all but forgotten. He let himself cry, granting himself the luxury of it. His shoulders shook, his fangs sinking into his bottom lip as all the negative thoughts filled his head like a storm.

Then suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder, a soft voice taking him out of his head. He jerked up as if burned. He whirled around, furious he’d been caught unaware, without his knife. What if it was-

But whatever imagined horror he conjured up was nothing compared to the horror that the person who crept up on him was you.

His heart hammered against his ribs and he could hear his blood rush in his ears, vision going blurry at the edges. His breaths came stunted and he was only vaguely aware that you were speaking. But still, he felt like he was watching things through water, only this time he was drowning.

Like an animal fueled by instinct, he stepped back. He didn’t want you to touch him. For him to taint you further. He was trying to find words to say but the panic was too great.

For a moment, he thought he was about to die. That somehow, inexplicably, this would be the end of him. To die in a forest, in his own sick because he was caught in a moment of weakness .

A perfectly humiliating end to the life of a parasite of no consequence. A man who’d been so corrupt it nearly cost him his life only to be reduced to nothing but a pretty face and a willing cock. All to lead people into their untimely death, like the monster he was. A pretty face with a rotten core.

He didn’t realize he was saying these things aloud, nor that he was crying until your hand gingerly wiped his tears away. He flinched and he saw the heartbreak on your face, another twist of the dagger that had lodged itself into his chest.

“Breathe.”

The one word cut through the fog in his head and somehow he willed himself to obey your gently spoken command. The first breath in was stunted, like a small child after a crying fit. But breathing was easy enough to do, a simple thing to focus on for just a moment as he found the hurt, humiliation and pain he felt.

In, out. In. Hold. Out.

In. Hold. Out.

In. Out

He calmed down slowly, his vision sharpening, his heart slowing down.

And there you stood, eyes trained on him with a look of concern in your eyes.

His first instinct was anger. He already had a cutting remark on his tongue but he swallowed it.

You were worried about him. You were just trying to help.

“Are you okay?”

Astarion found himself bristling again at the comment, righting his back and pointing his chin, as if he had any pride left to hold onto. As if you didn’t just see him in the middle of a panic attack because god forbid you saw him as weak.

“I’m fine.” He lied, hating how unsteady his voice sounded.

You looked at him in a way that let on you were the farthest thing from fooled and he didn’t want to give up the game. To tear himself open, cry into your arms like a small part of him wanted to.

Eventually, you nodded.

“Can I touch you?’

The simple question knocked the wind out of him. A simple ask of consent disarmed him fully and he wanted to loathe himself for it again but couldn’t. He was so tired.

“Please.” Came his reply. Soft and pained as he finally stopped fighting himself.

You had barely embraced him when a new torrent of tears came. He buried his face in the junction of where your neck met your shoulder. A place he was intimately familiar with, but right now it wasn’t about sating his hunger. He felt your hand gently stroke his back as you comforted him.

Years of habit made him wonder when you’d use this against him but he did his best to ignore the thought. Instead focusing on the here and now. On the smell of your skin, how soft and warm you felt against him, of the sound of your voice as you told him he was alright. That you were there.

And for a moment, Astarion allowed himself to feel it.

To feel safe.

He felt the urge to be sick again.

Despite himself, he breathed deep like he had earlier, his crying slowing to a soft sniveling. He untangled himself from your embrace, your eyes still on him. He couldn’t bare to meet your gaze, clearing his throat as he studied the forest floor beneath your feet.

“Is there anything you need?” You asked and the question seemed a little absurd to him. He quietly shook his head.

“If it’s all the same to you, darling, I would like to go back to bed. And not speak of this again.”

His tone was a little harsh but you seemed to not take offense. You merely gave him the ghost of a smile.

“Come. I have a waterskin so you can rinse your mouth.” you said, half turning to the campsite.

Astarion nodded. He wanted to say thank you but the words rested heavy on his tongue only for them to die there.

In silence, the pair made their way back to the fire. With that frustratingly soft look on your face, you handed him your waterskin.

Astarion rinsed his mouth, relieved to no longer taste blood for a moment. He handed it back to you before quietly settling in so you could sleep and he could close his eyes for a moment.

Then tomorrow you could both pack up your things and move on to the next place. Kill what needed killing and pretend to be heroes.

“Would it be alright if I held you?”

Astarion looked up, surprised because despite himself, he was already getting back into his own head. He deflected it, as he usually did.

“Cannot get enough of me, darling?” The words, even if they were meant in jest, rang a little hollow. You gave him a look and he simply nodded, almost reluctantly settling in your arms.

He focused on the sound of your heartbeat, the rhythm of it lulling him into something close to comfort. He heard your breaths slow, sleep dragging you back into the land of dreams.

Astarion’s own eyes grew heavy as he settled against you, And for a moment, despite the fact the gods had never listened, he found himself thanking them for making someone like you.

Because even if he still had a long road to go, you made him feel a little less like a monster, and a little more like Astarion Ancunin.

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3

243 notes · View notes

k1ss0fjudas · 2 months

Text

untitled mean lucifer fic

(first time posting something like this anywhere but regardless of that, enjoy. all lowercase and not beta-read. just slightly edited wordvomit pretty much. written and uploaded on mobile.)

tags/cw: nsfw, lucifer being mean, gender neutral reader/mc, dub-con (implies that lucifer wouldn't stop if you asked him to but only bc he knows whats best for u. ur rlly into it i promise), degradation + name-calling, puppy play, creampie, spanking (a little), breeding mention but not too in-detail - thats abt all i can think of.

------------------------------------------------------------------

lucifer fucks you like he hates you.

when he allows you to warm his bed he makes sure you know it is a mercy on his part to even let you touch him, let alone in the haphazard, careless way you do— impatient and needy and pathetic.

an excitable, dumb puppy is the image he always circles back to; especially when you're on your knees and peering up at him with those wet, lost eyes of yours— tongue out and panting like a bitch in heat for a taste of his cock. you're so pitiful.

aw, don't look so sad. there's always a fondness for you nestled in his chest. who can blame him when you're such a tantalizing little thing? you're simply too endearing to ignore. you were made for him; made to be picked up by his own two hands and have him break you into something fun.

he knows you won't disappoint. mammon can talk all he wants with that idiotic mouth of his, you are lucifer's pet, and being lucifer's pet means that you will always entertain him without fail. it's what good pets like you live for. you really think lucifer would settle for anything less?

and what a good little pet you are, making such sweet sounds when he truly starts the process of breaking you in, bending you over the bed— ass up and face down so you can be properly bred and mounted like the dirty little mutt you are.

his hands are tight around your hips in case you decide to run away. you have a tendency to believe that you have any say in how lucifer plays with you. it's nothing a little punishment can't fix.

when light spankings aren't enough to tame you he pulls on your hair and makes it hurt, tormenting you even more with a mean little chuckle when you whine at him for 'being too rough'. if he's feeling especially evil he'll chastise you with a heavy slap to your ass to remind you that a "good little whore takes cock with no complaints." dumb cocksleeves like you always remember your place after a few good and hefty slaps.

and what kind of owner would he be if he didn't cum inside and mark you as his? you know he's reaching his limit when he starts to breathe a little heavier— huffing and puffing through clenched teeth as he presses your face even deeper into the bed. if you bitch and moan he might even try to suffocate you a little just as a reminder that you are his puppyslut to fuck and abuse. not even you can tell him how to use your holes, whether it be to satisfy him or to simply breathe.

you should be thanking him, really. you like to pretend you hate it when he's mean to you like this but he feels the way your fuckhole squeezes around him when he is.

it's okay, he'll treat you the way you deserve.

and what you deserve is to be collared and leashed, fucked and bred, used and abused. all of that is something lucifer can provide so make sure you lay there and take it all when he suddenly pushes balls deep inside you and cums. it's hot and so thick and there's just so much of it that you can barely hold it. you should pray to whatever there is out there that it won't leak onto the bed, unless you want lucifer to click his tongue and scold you, muttering something to himself about how he "should have known that a stupid whore like you would be incapable of doing something as simple as being a cumdump."

what a shame, really. oh well. that only means that you're going to have to be pumped full of cum for the next few hours until you learn to be a proper cumrag. aw, don't look so scared, puppy. you're only going to turn lucifer on even more.

in fact, he's already hard and rearing to go, pressing his tip against your freshly broken-in hole. he'll fuck you even rougher and he'll be so smug watching you struggle beneath him. aw, trying to run away again? that simply won't do.

now be a good little bitch and take it.

#obey me x reader #obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me reader #obey me mc #lucifer x mc #lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer x you #obey me smut #obey me nsft #obey me shall we date

355 notes · View notes

moonit3 · 6 months

Text

THE NEW HIM

➥ warnings/notices: yandere, stalking, obsession, axel being a creepy, gn! reader, purposefully open end, reader falls in love easily.

➥ yandere! rent-a-boyfriend x gn! reader

➥ synopsis: after losing you, axel sees no other option than changing himself to regain your heart.

➥ a/n: this took more time than I expected （╹◡╹） there was many and many ideas that i rewrite til i feel like it that fit axel’s character as he is desperate trying to get reader to fall in love with him again. but i enjoy writing this one, like a lot.

➥ tagging @strangespinapple as they asked to be tagged when this get released.

you were ignoring him since that tragic day at work, pretending he never existed and blocking all numbers that called you every hour. you were driving him crazy, axel can’t stop thinking about how you were supposed to be his forever if he hadn’t done that when you opened your heart. he had to change your vision of him.

the red haired began following you, writing down your routine to a notebook he brought it just for that and he had stopped leaving gifts at your door, as much he wants to show his love for you, he had to stop to make his plan work.

your entire routine, 24/7, noted on the papers he always carries around the city. photos of you that are now all over his walls and the wallpaper of his phone. and the fact he can’t stop thinking about you during his dates, so he asks for a transference to the account depart of the app, there he keep myself with your matches at the apps, not letting you go out with anyone.

“we will be together, [name].” that what he keeps thinking to himself during his work hours as he purposefully unmatched you with the many guys that were trying to steal you away from him. don’t you see? you are destined to be with him forever, he just has to show that he have changed!

he dyed his hair to a different color, change his entire style to be the completely opposite of his original, something more dark and black vests. and he forces to make his voice deeper, to match those guys that everyone dreams to be with. axel doesn’t resemble his old self anymore, but that doesn’t matter as long you will love him soon.

in meanwhile, you didn’t get any match up in the app. is something wrong with it? you have spend days and days without a single match, so it’s easy to say that you are become desperate to go out on a date to forget about the whole fiasco with axel. luckily, after a long day of working, a notification pops up from the app you have finally matched with someone else.

the guy in question has a different style from most rent-a-boyfriend dudes. his dark and mess hair, clothes that were homemade to match his unique style and makeup, what a cutie! the two began chatting and you immediately noticed how much he has in common with you, isn’t that amazing? you feel so special to have find someone like him, yet there is one detail that caught your attention, his name.

it’s a little weird this guy share the same name from the one thay destroyed your heart just a few weeks ago, the very same one that made you believe that you are incapable of being loved, but stop think about that! this axel is way better from the old one, you know this and he is making you feel better after gifting you those beautiful flowers in the first date.

“someone as share the same beauty of a divinity should receive flowers.” he knows how to make your heart beat harder. his hands on yours as axel takes you to a carnival to see your smiles, to feel your touch on his skin and to hear your laughs during the date. the entire day feel so great be around you.

axel got what he wanted. having you in his arms, watching the fireworks as the day finally end after spending hours at the carnival by your side. your sleeping face on his shoulder as he scrolls on his phone, seeing the many photos he took of you through the date and the plans for the next one. he can’t wait to take your to the beach to play volleyball!

everything is going smooth, axel has you and he won’t let you go away from him so easily this time. he already made a mistake back then, now he will be more aware to take care of you and promise to one day be the one to gift you the greatest ring once the day arrives.

@moonit3 writings

657 notes · View notes

liliesinrequiem · 27 days

Text

Obedience

A/N: The way I'm obsessed with this man isn't healthy. Fell in love when I saw him for the first time and haven't recovered since then. Hoping he's playable in the future! Thoroughly enjoy him as a character.

Pairing: Yandere!Sunday x Reader

Summary: Sunday doubts your honesty and proceeds with doing a trial on you.

CW: Unhealthy relationship, psychological distress, use of religion to manipulate, and briefly mentioned obsessive behaviors. Overall, not great relationship. Also, spoilers for 2.1 if you haven't completed it!

You knelt before him. He sat on his office chair with an expectant look on his face. It’s just that you weren’t sure what he wanted. “Now, is there anything that you’re hiding from me?” he asked. The iciness of his voice pierced your heart and you looked down at your hands.

“No,” you answered quietly. A gloved hand gently grabbed your chin and tilted your face to force you to look at him. Brilliant, golden eyes stared back at you. He was dissecting every aspect of you. The perfectly crafted smile on his face hid his disappointment. Sunday was always so meticulous with how he appeared in front of others.

“I’ll give you one final chance,” he said. “Do you have anything to admit?” The weight of his expectations made your lungs feel like they were going to be crushed.

“I don’t,” you answered. His gentle grasp on you tightened slightly. Your heart began to sink. He didn’t believe you. Had you done something wrong? Maybe you had without realizing it? You just couldn’t think of anything.

“I thought that we’d been getting better. It seems that I need to teach you once more what happens if you lie to me,” he said. You shook at the meaning of his words. “Remember, my dove. Honesty makes the Great One happy and lies only mark the soul for damnation.” His mantra lived within your mind. You’d become incapable of lying to others even outside of your relationship with him. You didn’t want to upset the Great One. More importantly, you didn’t want to upset Sunday.

“Oh, Triple-Faced Soul, please sear their tongue and palms with a hot iron, so that they will not be able to fabricate lies and make false vows.” The world around you seemed to warp as you felt the intense pressure from the Harmony in your mind. It’d been a very long time since Sunday had used this method to get you to confess something. At first, you tried to fight against it, but you soon saw what could happen to a person if they weren’t honest. So, you gave him what he craved: absolute control. Everything you did must be able to be watched by him. Even movement in the waking world. Eventually, there had been little reason to ever use it on you as you did all that he ordered of you. “Let us begin the questioning, my dove. Are you ready?”

“Yes.” It didn’t matter if you were or weren’t. The countless voices of the Harmony were already wrapping around your mind like a suffocating hug. You sometimes wondered how much a human body could sustain this sort of thing. You’d had the consecration done very few times. But you couldn’t help but wonder if that had left some permanent mark on you.

“First question: who did you speak to in the Golden Hour near the Clockie Statue?” One aspect of being with Sunday was knowing that he’d scrutinize every detail of what you did. Even the smallest thing could be seen as potentially insulting the Great One’s image.

“A guest that was visiting the Golden Hour for the first time,” you answered. The guest had a confused expression when he approached you.

“What did he ask you?” asked Sunday. The sequence of questions always started innocently. It was to delve deeper into your mind. By the time he reached the thing he actually wanted to ask, your mind was already being unspun by the Harmony.

“What the best sights were in the Golden Hour. I offered some places such as Dr. Edward’s and some shops that I knew were popular,” you answered. He’d gone on his merry way once you’d pointed the right direction for things.

“What is your favorite sight to see in all of Penacony?” His voice was much sterner with you during questionings. Even when the question wasn’t anything deep.

“Dream’s Edge. I like the shooting stars,” you said confidently. He nodded as if he already knew the answer to that. In all likelihood, he did. Everything about you was neatly written down and maintained somewhere within his archives. That was all you knew, though. Where and how he maintained them was unknown.

Your head was starting to hurt. “A Bloodhound told me that he saw you speaking with a woman at Dream’s Edge,” he said. “He told me that the woman was telling you that she felt as if something was missing in her life. What was your response?”

“That she should check in with a dream nurse when she wakes up,” you said. Her panicked state had made you panic a bit. You hadn’t seen someone who was suffering from such a severe case of missing memories like her in a while. You hadn’t had enough courage to go back to Dream’s Edge alone.

“Why did you spend a whole night in the Moment of Blue Hour?” Through the excruciating headache, you’d started to wonder why he was only asking about the people you were speaking to. Was he investigating something? What could it be?

“...An old lady. She wanted company as she waited for her lover to return. She said that he promised to return from war and that she’d been waiting for him since then…I couldn’t leave her alone.” The emptiness in her eyes reminded you of other visitors who desperately sought out their lost ones in the realm of dreams. It seemed that the old lady might have to wait longer.

“She seems to know how to keep promises. Next question: who are you most loyal to?” he asked. Did the question even have to be asked?

“I’m most loyal to you, Sunday.” No one else had such power to swing you between life and death so carefully.

“When I asked you if you were hiding anything from me, were you honest with your answer?” The sound of the Harmony’s voices had gotten progressively louder. You dug your fingernails into the palms of your hands. The pain was the only thing keeping you steady as you drowned in thousands of voices. Meanwhile, your beloved merely looked down at you.

“..........I was.” It was getting more difficult to respond. The weight was collapsing on you. Even if you were being honest, you wouldn’t feel free until liberated from its power.

“My dove, did you know that every single person who you’ve spoken to recently wound up dead in the dream?” he asked. Your eyebrows furrowed. What was he talking about?

“No.” People come and go. How could you keep track of what others did post your interactions with them?

“The final question: can you swear to me that you haven’t been working with the killer?” he asked.

“.................I swear.” You knew that the killer had been filling his mind recently. But how could you have anything to do with that? You rarely even interacted with people. Was that why he was interrogating you? Couldn’t he corroborate with his servants to see that you hadn’t done anything against him? Why couldn’t he just put his faith into you?

You were on the edge of tears. The power that he had placed on you made you feel as if you were burning up against the cool of his glove. Their united voices had started to sink into your psyche. How much more? Through his usage of the consecration, he knew whether you were lying or not. He had to know that you were being honest.

Sunday smiled at you and it felt like a light at the end of the tunnel. “You’ve done well, my dove. You haven’t uttered a single lie,” he said. “The Great One has chosen to show you mercy once more for being such an honest person.” He let go of your face. You could feel the power leaving your body as you laid your head on his lap. The exhaustion was something else. Your head swam with too many things at once.

His hand gently patted your head as a method of calming you down. The shaking of your body gradually stopped through his touch. “I have one final question,” he said. Another test. Something easy to do when the other party was still vulnerable.

“What is it?” you asked quietly.

“Do you love me, (Y/N)?” A simple question. He was your lover. A man who held a lot of power in all of Penacony. The one who had promised you a beautiful dream as long as you followed him. Even though you feared the use of the consecration, if you were honest, he’d save you from it. Just as he had always done so. It only further proved his point, didn’t it? As long as you did as he said, Sunday wouldn’t bring real harm to you.

“Yes.” He was the one who could condemn you to the eternal abyss of damnation and the only one who could save you from it. He was your judge and your savior all in one.

#honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail x reader #sunday x reader #sunday imagines #hsr x reader #hsr imagines #hsr x y/n

333 notes · View notes

demonsword586 · 2 months

Text

Leviathan Attacker story part 1

(I would like to apoligise. I play the ps version and tumblr doesn't let me post full on dick pics,so no pp😔. Anyway enjoy the 1.part of Levi's attacker story and I shall post more in following days.)

A long wide hallway with soothing classical music and the faint scent of flowers.

The palace of Hades was lofty and beautiful as though showing it's master's prefrences.

Click,click,click...

You hurried through the beautiful corridor as fast as you could without breaking the courtesy.

Right. You were lightly running.

You wanted to take your time exploring the palace which was a work of art in and of itelf,but-

A few hours ago in Gehenna.

Satan: Go and hand him this chest and come back right away. If you're late even in the slightest,I'm going to take everyone and invade Hades.

Sitri: Really?

Satan: Shall I do it now?

Sitri: N-No. His Majesty Satan is a man of his word.

Satan handed you a black chest with about fifty locks and began to fume.

Satan: The bastard had just used something that Gehenna had helped him with before.

Sitri: That bastard being....?

Satan: Leviathan,of course. I shoudn't have acted cool in the moment and said 'I'll grant you one request,whatever it may be'!! Damn it!!!

Ppyong who happened to be next to Satan,got kicked by Satan and disappeared into the sky in a beautiful parabola.

(bg changes to the sky and Ppyong slowly disappearing)

Ppyong: Ppyoooooooooooong~~~~~

(bg going back to Gehenna streets)

Satan: He chose MC to bring this to him...What an impertinent guy...

Satan kept fuming as though he coudn't calm down.

Sitri explained in Satan's place as though he thought his king was incapable of proper conversation anymore.

Sitri: This chest is called <Anti Pandora's box>

Sitri: It's an object that Morgan le Fay had until the end,but it came into Gehenna's possesion when she made a deal with Satan to dethrone king Arthur.

Sitri: His Majesty cherished it because it's a terrible object with the emotions of all hypocrisy.

Sitri: That's why he's raging.

Sitri: I don't want to hand over the < Anti Pandora's box>,but he even made you Solomon as the deliverer,so his Majesty Satan's rage will soon....

Passing devil: Argh,aaaaaahhh~~~~!

Another devil standing near Satan got kicked by Satan and disappearedinto the sky.

Sitri: ...I was going to tell you to get going,because I expected his Majesty's anger would gradate because of his depression...

Satan: That impertinent bastard!!! I'm going to invade Hades!!! ARGHHHH!!!!

Just when the raging Satan was looking for the next devil to kick,someone furtively pushed a teddy bear into Satan's hand. It was Leraye.

Like how Satan kicked everything that touched his feet,he almost instinctively held it separately by it's head and body to rip it when something touched his hand.

Rip--! Riippp!!!

Ppyong: Ehhh!!!

Rubbing his swollen bottom as he returned,Ppyong looked afraid at the brutal sight.

Unlike the scared Ppyong,Leraye was about to happily pick up the body of the teddy bear after Satan fumingly separated its head from its body.

Thwack!!!

Satan also kicked Leraye who had approached into the distance.

(bg changes to Leraye getting kicked)

Leraye: Aaaarghhh!!

Leraye screams of deep joy faded into the distance.

(bg changes back to Hades halls)

MC: (Is the secret to Gehenna devils having bouncy butts indeed because of Satan's kicks...but I'm still a bit scared.)

You could still clearly see Satan raging like a dragon breathing fire and hurried on.

MC:(I'll hand it over and get back quickly!)

You somehow found it difficult to visit Leviathan.

Partly because he was so beautiful and out of this world,but also because you didn't know when he was going to get frustrated and strangle you.

Sometimes,you thought the heavy emotion of sadness and not speaking the same language may be one o the reasons,but there was also a part of you that wanted to see Leviathan after all this time.

In other words,you had ambivalent feelings about meeting Leviathan,like you liked it but didn't like it.

So confirming your emotions was also a reason why you were hurrying your footsteps. And...

Clink,clink,clink!

MC: (I want to put down this omnous black chest that seems to be wriggling and making sounds from a while ago..)

Just then you remembered what Sitri beseeched you again and again before leaving Gehenna.

Sitri: (Never. Never think about opening it. It would be incomparable to opening Pandora's box)

Sitri: (So please. Never open it.)

MC: ( Right. Let's just see Leviathan's handsome face,give him the chest and go back...)

Maybe because you had been lightly running,but you soon researched the hall where Leviathan was faster than you expected.

The gatekeeper recognized you and bowed to say hello.

Then,he was about to open the door for you when he suddenly stopped moving and leaned toward you a little to speak in the quiet voice.

Guard devil: That's the <Anti Pandora's box>! Wait,rather,you're here today..!

MC: Huh? Is today a special day?

Guard devil: It is special in a way...

Guard devil: But take care. I dared give you advice since everyone in Hades like you very much although they pretended not to.

MC: ???

Unable to understand the gatekeeper,you were about to ask back

When he hurriedly opened the door again as though explaining in detail would put him in trouble.

No,he tried to open the door,when he pulled an expression as though he was saying 'I knew it. This won't work.' and added.

Guard devil: Please,don't even thibk about opening that chest.

With the gatekeeper's amxious voice,the door opened.

Creaaak-

(bg changes to Hades throne room)

The massive doors that were like the mouth of Leviathan's monster opened up and revealed a hall as eerily silent as ever.

The dozends of devils filling the halls were bowing a little,standing on either side of the long carpet in the middle.

But even with all those devils breathing at the same time,there was barely an intake of breath let alone a movement.

You walked through them to stand right under Leviathan's throne that was at the end of the hall.

Leviathan: .....

Mc: (He won't even say hi?!)

Leviathan looked down at you with an odd look in his eyes.

His hair, an odd wheat-color mass that looked as if God has made it just for Leviathan,sweapt across his forehead.

And long full lashes cast mysterious shadows over his clear pupils.

Not only that but his shimmering skin which seemed to self-luminiscence in the dark looked beautiful like it had been sprinkled with stardust.

Just the fact that he was looking at you made you feel like you were more privilaged than anyone else in the universe.

Mc: (Still...is it so hard to say hello?!)

Everyone else would have their tails between their legs when facing an absolute beauty that can crush all logic-but you were diffrent.

Just the fact that he was looking at you made you feel like you were more privliged than anyone else in the universe.

MC: Leviathan,I'm here. How can't you even say hello? That's sad. Satan told me to give this to you!

When you handed Leviathan the omnious black chest in your hand,the silent hall began to stir.

Subject: Even if she/he is the daughter/son of Solomon,how dare she/he calls his supreme,great Majesty Leviathan by name....!

Subject: Wait,but isn't this the <Anti Pandora's box>! How can that omnious object be here in Hades?!

Subject: That's not the problem! That attitude! It's so unhesitant! It's...yeah....it's basiclly treason!

Subject: Argh! Is that the <Anti Pandora's box>?! I-I should request a day off!!!

The servants who were boisterous as usual became even more boisterous,chatting away at your insolence and the black chest,but you heard none of it.

Leviathan was the only one that concernwd you right now.

Leviathan: .....

Leviathan said nothing in reply and only stared down at you from his throne.

He wasn't staring at Satan's object in your hands.

He was looking solely at you as if he coudn't see the countless devils around him.

Leviathan: .....

MC: (He's not usually talkitive....but today he's just strange!)

Feeling doubious you were about to call Leviathan one more time.

When he stood up from his seat and took off his jacket at the same time.

With nonchalant expression,he rwmoved his outer robe,his arms sliding out of the garment and thrusting his toned chest forward.

At that moment his nipples which were hidden inside the thin shirt jutted out over the shirt,creating small shadows beneath them.

The figure quickly disappeared as he retrached his outstreached chest,but the fleeting sight ytuck in your mind.

You and his subjects all held your breaths for a moment as you watched the garment slide gently off his body.

MC: ( W-What's that? All he's doing is taking off his outer robe...how can he look so vigurous?!)

It was a simple act of 'stripping',but it was so rich and intense that you realized nothing could move a woman's heart like that,even if the most charming man on the planet was flirting with her in a commited way.

Your heart began to race so loudly that thw other devils could hear it and suprisingly,you felt yourself getting wet by the simple act in itself.

As you blushed in secret embarrassment,rhe jacketless Leviathan walked down from his throne and stood before you.

MC: Levia-

Leviathan: Shut up.

Leviathan stopped you and said in a low,mumbled voice.

And then grabbed you by the throat with his thin,pretty hand rhat was larger than it looked as he lifted you off your feet.

MC: Kurgh?!

In an instant,you were strangled and your feet were off the ground,your eyes wide in suprise at the suddwn situation.

MC: Urgh, khgh...

Floating in midair,your eyes met Leviathan's eye level which was taller than you.

It allowed you to look him in the eyes and glare.

MC: ( What is it this time?)

Because you thought of lewd things while looking at Leviathan?

Mc: ( But that's not just me! It's because you look lewd!)

Thinking of things that won't make hjm stare at you in disgust you were about to voiced it out-

MC: (Eh wait. Leviathan's state)

*Leviathan blushes*

You though he was looking down at you indiffrently,but there was an unknown fever in his eyes.

Leviathan's expressions were normally difficult to read,but this time !ou could see his emotions.

MC: (He's...mad..)

You felt a strange mixture of excitment and fear at Leviathan's completly crazy expeession.

But your thoughts coudn't continue.

Leviathan took off his glove from his other hand with his teeth,raised his hand to place it on your chest and slashed down vertically.

With a rip- all your clothes that you were wearing rore in half at knce,splitting into two and falling down.

With Leviathan's single movement,you turned naked in midair,with his hand on your throat.

At the same time all the soldiers and servants in the hall looked away and knelt down.

It was a gesture of loyalty to not covet Leviathan's possesions,a gesture to make this place as empty as possible.

MC: W-What are you doing?

You hurriedly covered your chest.

Soon a devil each stepped out from the back feom the group of devils that stood bisected on either side of the purple carpet.

They moved and kept their eyes averted as though thwy werw determined not to looka t your direction.

Soon the two turned away and slowly,lovjngly began to unbuttoned Leviathan's pants

You saw Leviathan's hardened penis rising above his boxers as his pants were pulled down.

You closed your thighs tightly,embarrassed in your strangled state.

They carefully stripped Leviathan down ro his boxers,then laid them aside and walked back to their positions,heads bowed.

When you opened your eyes,you saw Leviathan' beautiful body that was naked.

At the same time Leviathan's penis was clearly visible as he stood here,uncovered,without pants or boxers.

MC: ( W-Was he that big before?)

Leviathan's beautiful pink penis was somehow as moist and flustured as the corners of his eyes.

You wondered if you were weird for thinking your partner's erect penis was beautiful, even when he was strangling you.

Or if Leviathan was strange for getting hard while strangling you.

The thick smell coming from the lower half of Leviathan body made your mind hazzy.

With you in his grip,Leviathan was soon breathing roughly.

The fact that you were in the hands of a beautiful king who had gone mad was begining to stimulate you.

Leviathan's penis which coudn't have risen any higher,nodded a few more times before starting to ooze a white liquid.

MC: (Is he coming? No...that's something else...)

The liquid that had begun to flow from the tip of Leviathan's penis enveloped the entirety of his penis and eventually dripped on the floor qith a dull sound.

The devil,the biggest beast in mythology - said to be able to even swallow Heaven - is acting like a male in a rut

The crystallization of a male. The essence that only a male can produce,was flowing out of his body like a fountain.

Such that although you only thought about it for a moment,a small puddle has formed on the ground.

You felt that with that amount,there would be no creature that coudn't be fertilized.

No,it was not slowing down any time soon. The liquid was gushing out so much,you coudn't even tell how much of it was there.

MC: (Amazing.)

You thought and with your face dark red from the rushing of blood,licked your lips without realizing it.

Your perverted nature,unrivaled amongs humans,felt happy to be able to witness such a spectacle.

As you reached the limit of your oxygen supply and your eyes began to fall back,you felt a lightning bolt of pleasure strike your wet lower half.

MC: Kurgh...urgh...!!

As you wrapped your arms around Leviathan's neck,unable to control your excitment,his penis jerked highly once more.

And holding you up with his hand,he thrust his wet pillar inside you.

Fwolp!

MC: !!!!

Leviathan's already wet pillar slid unresistingly inside you.

At the same time,the hand holding your throat loosened and the blocked airway opened once again,sending tickling sensations throughout your body.

You trembled at the exploding pleasure for a moment.

Now,you were in Leviathan's arms as his penis penetrated you.

When you looked up,you could see Leviathan looking down at you.

Looking at his face which was still crazy but the most beautiful face you'd ever seen,you quickly looked away in embarrassment.

Leviathan: Don't...be cold...

MC: (What?)

Blankly murmuring incompregensable words,Leviathan held your bottom with his hand and began to walk with his penis inside you.

MC: W-Wait! This position! Ugh...My stomach is filling up!

Leviathan's object continued oozing white liquid and your stomach was filled with his liquid to the point it looked slightly convex.

As he began to walk,you could even hear the sloshing in your gut. And everytime his feet crossed,a gap opened where you were connected to him and white liquid gurgled and leaked out onto the ground.

MC: (Are we Hansel and Gretel?! This is embarrassing!)

Where Leviathan walked,a white path was being made of the liquid that came out of him,went into you and came back out again.

Being around devils filled your perverted mind with pleasure's you never seen or imagined. It was like that again.

Now you began to enjoy it. You had pressed your own button.

MC: Where...Tell me where are we going?...Ah,ughh...I love it...

Leviathan: To somewhere safe.

Leviathan said something you coudn't understand,but watching his mad and beautiful face made you tremble with happiness.

None of the subjects raised thwir heads or criticized you until the moment Leviathan left through the door at the end of the hall.

You left rhat silent,uncanny loyalty behind and began to move,impaled by Leviathan and carried by him.

Feeling his wet pillar entered you even deeper and left you each time Leviathan took a step.

And the slickness of Leviathan's fluid filling your stomach, and the sound of it dripping onto the floor.

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb leviathan #whb satan #whb sitri #whb leraye #whb ppyong

176 notes · View notes

ssentimentals · 1 year

Text

reassurance {jeon wonwoo}

pairing: wonwoo x gn!reader

prompt: tonight wonwoo needs to know that you love him, too. (features overthinking and a bit insecure wonwoo, who needs reassurance from the reader)

warnings and general tags: nsfw, smut (minors dni or i will bite your hands off), nothing detailed though and it's much more about feelings here than actual sex because i am incapable of not adding bunch of thoughts and feelings into whatever i write, established relationships, insecurity but it's not angsty (i hope)

there’s nothing wrong with this party. music is good, booze is even better, quantity of people is just enough to fill the space without making it hard to breathe and even lights are not too blinding. honestly, everything is good but wonwoo can’t wait to go home and this time it has nothing to do with him not being a 'party person'. this evening makes him feel bare, like his armor is stripped off and all of his insecurities are out on full display, bleeding. and it’s hard to tell what triggered this because nothing much happened, but he’s been in his head too much lately and it drove him crazy.

he stands a bit out of the circle of his friends, needing his space right now. everyone is either dancing or having a good time, but he simply can’t. all of the thoughts are eating him up, they don’t whisper, they scream in his head that he’s not loved, that he’s alone. wonwoo’s eyes follow your figure and there’s an itch in his skin, weird almost primal need to get you close so your smile can be directed to him. you are radiant and he feels cold without your warm energy around him.

wonwoo sips on his drink quietly, listens to the conversation around him, nods in greeting to passing people, but his attention is on you. he is on the verge of leaving his group and coming to you when you turn around, making eye contact with him. your soft smile instantly has a calming effect and he relaxes his posture, watching you make your way to him. there’s a furrow between your eyebrows and he knows he didn’t fool you - you know that something is wrong with him.

'everything is okay?' you ask quietly but with a smile on your face, not wanting to attract attention of others. 'you don’t look like you’re enjoying yourself.'

he loves you for that; for knowing him so well that even from little quirks you can tell that something is off, for your caring attitude, for your gentleness displayed towards him all the time. he loves you and tonight he especially needs to know that you love him, too. wonwoo opens his mouth to speak when two friends interrupt him, bursting into your private bubble in order to say hi. annoyance spikes up but he thumps it down, seeing how you are genuine happy to see them. your hand reaches out to hold his and wonwoo smiles widely, interlocking your fingers; physical connection with you in any form is what he needs right now.

'you gonna join us, right? c’mon, we can start playing beer pong!'

wonwoo is ready to let you go, he doesn’t want to be some egoistical bastard and keep you from having all the fun, but his heart soars in his chest when you politely decline. he can kiss you in front of everyone when you add that you two are actually heading home. you turn and send a sweet smile his way and his heart does a flip and then one more, just for a good measure. oh, he loves you.

'you better tell me what’s wrong, mister.' you say as you both get in the car. 'did someone say something?'

wonwoo shakes his head, hating himself for making you worried. 'no, it’s not that. i just don’t- i just feel a bit off tonight. i’m sorry for ruining your fun.'

'which fun? please, like i haven’t been to parties before.' you scoff jokingly and then turn serious, turning to him on your seat. 'babe, do you want to talk about it? or do you want me to leave you alone for tonight? give you space?'

'no.' this comes out a bit too rushed and wonwoo glances at you to check whether he startled you or not. 'please don’t..leave.'

his attention is back on the road and he sighs in relief when you reach out and squeeze his shoulder. 'i won’t. i’m here.'

that's what you always do and he doesn't know how he got so lucky; wonwoo likes to think of himself as of a good person but he's not that good in order to deserve someone like you as his partner. he wonders if you ever notice how lacking he is in many aspects, how truly out of his league you are; he fears the moment when you'll finally realize all of it. you both say nothing for the rest of the ride and it usually is peaceful but tonight this silence causes all of his doubts to rise up. what are you thinking about? are you wishing you stayed at that party instead? are you wondering why your boyfriend is such a party pooper? are you wishing you had someone else instead, someone more active, extraverted, more fun? by the time you reach home and lock the door of your apartment, wonwoo is buzzing with nerves and not the good kind ones; he is ready to throw himself on the wall.

'wonwoo,' you call out, carefully making him face you. your eyes search up his face, trying to guess what's going on in his mind. 'baby, what is it?' you point on his forehead, smiling: 'it's not good for you to spend this much time in your head, you almost always overthink.'

wonwoo exhales shakily and when his eyes lock with yours, smile slowly disappears from your face. he knows he must look pathetic right now, but even though he has poker face with everyone, it never worked with you; with you all of his emotions run freely and he can tell that you see everything in his eyes, without him needing to explain. 'oh, baby,' you let out, hugging him tight. 'i love you.'

he hugs you back and it's a miracle, truly, how immediately content he feels. 'you do?' he asks and he sounds too needy even to his own ears.

you pull back, taking a good look at him. 'of course i do, woo. i love you so much.' your hand brushes his fringe out of his eyes and you smile gently, cupping his face. 'what do you need tonight? movie and cuddles? quiet night in with talking? or you want me?'

his grip involuntarily tightens on your waist and that's an answer in itself but he still says out loud: 'you. want you.'

from there it's all a blur. he knows you are there and he stays afloat solely because of your hands all over him and your lips on his. you kiss in the most gentlest way and you were together for a while now, but he still can't get enough. your kisses light up something different in him and tonight he doesn't try to take the lead - he simply lets you set up the tempo, a willing puppet in your hands.

'i love you,' you whisper, pulling him down on the bed. you free both of you from shirts and he sighs at the skin to skin contact. 'i want you to believe me, okay? i'm not lying. i love you.'

wonwoo nods. he tries his best not to cry but it's really damn hard, when you gaze at him with so much love and affection. he reaches out for you, hating this distance, wanting to be as close you as you two only can be. this grounds him, feeling you next to him, having your lips on his - this serves as a reminder that you are here with him. maybe voices in his head are wrong, after all.

you plant kisses from his lips to his jaw, moving down his neck and stopping on his collarbones, making him squirm. he feels a bit dizzy, maybe because of the booze, maybe because of your perfume, or maybe from the way you make him feel. you don't leave marks on his skin, never bite down hard enough for it to bruise and he feels worshipped in the most intimate way. your hands trace every single ridge, every single dip, you map out his torso with your love and when you reach for the belt he's already panting a little, face flushed. not being able to kiss you in this position is very unsatisfying but his brain promptly shuts up when you rid him of his jeans and take off yours too. he wishes he could take pictures with his eyes, wishes he were a painter cause words escape him when he looks at you. the whole 'head spin, breath knocked down' thing is very real when it comes to you and he hopes this effect you have on him never wears off.

'there is nowhere else i'd rather be,' you whisper, settling yourself on top of him. 'and no one else i'd rather be with. okay? you have to believe me, woo.'

'okay.' he grits out, gripping your hips. 'i- i believe you.'

the smile that you reward him with makes him weak. 'good.' you smile cheekily: 'won't you come up here and kiss me?'

he moves quickly, sitting up and wrapping his arms around you, slotting our mouths together. his heart thrums in his chest. beats so loud that he can't hear anything else. he thinks his heart is trying to break his ribcage, wants to get out of there so it can fall into your hands instead. the kiss speaks volumes of your feelings and emotions and wonwoo is drunk, high on love when you let him prepare yourself. your soft sighs, drawn out moans and breathy whispers of his name make his hands tremble a little; is this real? how did he score you? how?

'hey,' you call and his eyes snap towards you instantly. your chest is rising up and down, eyes turned a bit glossy, body flushed with prettiest shade of pink and he bites his lip in order not to moan out loud at the view. 'woo, baby. you're here, right? with me?'

wonwoo nods, pressing a kiss on your hipbone. 'yes.'

'and you love me?' you ask breathily as he continues to stretch you out.

'yes.' more firm this time and he punctuates this with a rather sharp thrust of his fingers inside. 'i love you so much, too much.'

you smile, lacing your fingers through his hair. 'and i love you. more than you think.'

and wonwoo believes. he sees that in your eyes, sees that in every single action or word, sees it every day. it's just sometimes clouds loom over him and insecurities all wake up from the pits of his stomach, but deep inside he knows the truth. you love him. you love him just the way he is. and he can give you the world for this.

'i believe you,' he whispers, lining himself and carefully entering you.

being with you is the best symphony; it's the practiced ease, it's the familiar tension which one can feel only after doing something over and over again. he knows where to touch, where to kiss, where to press to have you fly on the cloud nine and this familiarity with your body is not something he takes for granted; he'll die the day someone else will learn all of this, too.

'i love you, i love you,' you let out, gripping his forearms. 'kiss me, plea-'

wonwoo kisses your fervently, adoringly. it's the 'i can't believe you are mine' and 'please be mine forever' in the kiss and you kiss him back, hoping he can read the 'forever, yes' as your answer. you hold each other tightly as you both fall apart, the most beautiful ending of the song. he plants kisses all over your face, his face lights up as you giggle. he wants to say 'thank you' but it'll sound weird so he settles for hugging you tight.

'only a little or else this sweat will get sticky,' you warn him, sighing in resentment as he stands up. 'whereee?'

'let me clean you up.' he offers and you nod, content in just lying around as he does the job. 'shower, love?'

your heart squeezes on the petname and you nod, letting him push you up. wonwoo holds you upright and kiss your temple as you both walk towards the bathroom. 'you are my everything,' he whispers before climbing into the shower first in order to find best temperature.

'you are my everything too.' you assure him, climbing in as soon as motions that water temperature is just the way you like it. 'you know this, right?'

'yeah,' he nods, bringing you closer.

'good. i will let you know if it changes, by the way. so if i'm not saying anything you can just always assume that it's still the same.' you proclaim, making him laugh loudly.

'i hope it never changes.' he comments offhandedly, soaping the loofa.

you smile, leaning in to peck his lips. 'i hope so too.'

a/n: i tried my best to make reader as gn as i only can but!! if i somehow made a terrible job at it please please let me know :( and as always here is the link to all my other works. i'm not really nsfw writer, it's mostly fluff blog for seventeen <3 - nini

also i'm not tagging anyone here from my usual tag list cause i didn't know whether you guys will be okay with smut. (not like it was detailed but yeah, anyway). let me know what you think of this one!

#wonwoo #wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #jeon wonwoo smut #seventeen imagine #seventeen reaction #seventeen wonwoo #svt wonwoo #wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo #i hope this doesnt come out like wonwoo is weak or some other bullshit like that #the baby is strong and we all need reassurance so! no hate for this pls #lmao me: writes smut #also me: has like 4 sentences about sex and everything else is feelings #THIS IS STILL SMUT THOUGH SO MINORS!!! DO NOT!!! READ THIS!

2K notes · View notes

auspicioustidings · 5 months

Text

The Revelation

Summary: You are pretty happy with the cult you have made for yourself, but when two newcomers show up you can't help but think how far you could go with this.

(this is a one-shot, I stg if your only comment on this is to say 'part 2' I will feed you to the tomato plants! If you like it and have brain worms about it by all means send those to me and we can bounce ideas around)

Words: 6.6k

CWs: Cult shit, dubcon (everyone is manipulating each other here), light petplay (hope you're proud of yourself Bo I am incapable of writing Ghoap without Johnny being a puppy now), smut, murder, slight allusion to cannibalism (in a round about way, just putting it here for safety), Catholicism

The Death of God happened on a gloomy Thursday afternoon. One moment he had been mowing the lawn and the next thing he had an epiphany about hating his suburban life, hating his suburban wife, hating the 2 kids and hating the lawnmower he had spent his last bonus on.

The Revelation happened on a sunny Friday morning when you had popped up on his tiktok feed and told him that you understood him, that you were there for him. He had made his way to the commune, telling his wife it was just a visit to find himself. And he did. Which of course meant he never came home.

Truly you would consider yourself some what of a miracle working taking in this portly, charisma void of a businessman and turning him into some semblance of interesting. Well as interesting as anyone in this little slice of heaven. He had a fascination with growing tomatoes now. Good for him.

The hundreds of little deaths of God had been great for business. When someone had a crisis, when someone thought they were broken, when someone just couldn't fucking take it anymore, that's when they were so desperate to believe in something that you could make them happy with a smile and a kind word every so often. You could keep them happy (well, what they believed was happy and wasn't that all that mattered?) by keeping them a little tired, a little hungry and occasionally a little high. Good for the soul really, that's what you always said.

Surely you deserved to live on a steady diet of champagne, strawberries and decadence for all the good work you did. They all understood how difficult it was to be you. And despite your trials weren't you still so lovely to them? Even when they acted out you were gentle in your reminders that they needed fixing, that you were only ever there to help, that their friends and families would try and convince them otherwise because they didn't understand what it was to be broken. You opened your arms to them always, it was in their nature to err and in yours to forgive.

Honestly you could keep this up for the rest of your life. A small group of people devoted to you, happy in their worship and happy in their toil. No violence needed to keep them compliant, just a soft touch and the occasional psychological torture as necessary. You had no aspirations to go beyond this, you had it good. No need for a death cult or to make yourself an actual God to them. You already had your champagne and strawberries after all, life was good.

–

They were big, these two new men to your little oasis. It would be a tricky thing to half starve them you thought, but then it would also be a shame to have them lose all that bulk that you found you quite enjoyed looking at. Still, it was important for enlightenment and all that.

So you gave them a steady supply of soft smiles and reassuring touches, a diet of “yes this is an eco-living commune!” and “oh I never thought anyone would want to join me out here, I just got very lucky that so many wonderful people share the same morals.” They went easy of course, ex-military, used to structure and relying on someone above them to do the thinking. Perfect for you really, just two attack dogs that were impeccably trained.

They neglected to tell you that they hadn't been regular military, that they had been high ranked special operators in an elite task force. That would have made you suspicious after all and it was better you thought them stupid. Johnny had seen you on tiktok and wanted you and Simon never denied his boy anything, so here they were, playing you completely into their hands.

First it was getting themselves special privileges, unlimited access to food, a home right next to yours, full evenings of rest. Hadn't been hard to make you think it was your idea.

“Och it's alright lass, I ken we're naw military anymore. Dinnae need tae be a lean, mean, killing machine oot here.”

“Of course not Johnny, I'd hope you think you're very safe here.”

“Aye, feel safe with you. Ye look after us. Wish ye would let us look after you more!”

“I don't need anymore than I already have, but it's so wonderful of you to say, truly.”

Then a few days later when there had been time for that little declaration to settle in.

“Simon! How are you, I didn't see you yesterday.”

“Sorry, pulled my shoulder something awful. Felt like a right git not being able to do work properly.”

“Oh that's terrible, how did you pull it?”

“Ah just lack of training is all. Too used to being strong, retirement doesn't really lend itself to that.”

“You're still plenty strong!”

“I hope so. Some of the things I hear about what people's families think of you… if it ever came down to it, I want you to know I'd protect you with my life. Both me and Johnny would, strong or not.”

You had really been given an absolute gift here. That was something that had been making you a little paranoid. If family members escalated to violence there was really nothing you could do. You were a lover (here meaning awful con artist but that was just semantics) not a fighter. And now there was a solution right in your lap.

“How would you and Johnny feel about being security then? I'd hate to think we'd ever need it of course, but it would make people feel safer. Some of their families are terrible people I'm afraid, I don't want anyone to get hurt because someone tries something violent” you said gently, of course concerned for these innocent people being viciously abused by their awful families (these brainwashed people being taken by their loved ones to recover and live meaningful lives again, lives which did not involved maintaining your champagne and strawberry habit).

“If you ask us of course we'd never say no, it's just… would it be ok to have an hour a day to train? It's such an honour to protect this place, not looking to half arse it.”

“Of course! Come to my house with Johnny after supper and we can discuss some accommodations for your new roles.”

–

“How does that sound?” you asked, soft as silk.

You knew how it sounded, it sounded like you were the damn second coming. Giving them unrestricted food and sleep, telling them you'd have a house for them built right by your side? You knew it was working by how Johnny's eyes had went big and wet, projecting puppy-like adoration. And Simon? Oh that big, delicious man stood and walked over to you so he could kneel at your feet. Fuck you had never felt better about yourself.

“We don't deserve so much of your consideration. I-” he said, the first time you had heard him struggle to get words out through his emotion. “I want to thank you properly.”

He said it like it was a revelation and it peaked your interest. You could have squealed with delight when his cheek leant against your knee, your dress pushed by his face to let skin meet skin, eyes locked with yours as he turned to kiss your flesh. You hadn't fucked any of your followers, too messy. But these weren't regular followers anymore right? No, these were special followers. And it had been so long and he was looking at you like he was desperate to give you any pleasure he could.

Oh Simon was desperate all right, had been thinking about getting you sloppy and pathetic for him since Johnny had excitedly shown him that bloody video of you acting like an innocent little lamb. He wanted to just barrel in, bend you over and claim you right away. It was Johnny who insisted it would be more fun to trick you, who had whined like a bitch about it until he got his way. Bloody MacTavish. He really needed to train those puppy dog eyes right out of the boy. Those had got him to indulge in all sort of risks already. Nearly fucked the whole plan right up when you had come dangerously close to catching him balls deep in Johnny in your bed, absolutely ruining him as per his own puppy dog eyed request.

For his part Johnny was positively giddy. He might give away the game if he really got to watch Simon taste you. Would he play gently with you? Oh my God would he pretend he was inexperienced to make you feel superior? Let you think you were guiding him? That might kill him dead. He tried to not fucking salivate and start panting at the thought of it.

“Then thank me properly.”

Fuck the way his eyes lit up at that. This gorgeous man wanted you, he wanted to please you. As a hand squeezed your calf and he started to drag his mouth up your bare leg you felt the sick thrill of wondering how far they would go for you. Already people had given up families, friends, wealth. You had never pushed it beyond, horrified whenever you thought about how delicious it would be if they would die for you, kill for you and so shoving those dark thoughts to the back of your mind.

But you didn't want Simon to die for you. You did want to see how far you could push, how deep his devotion ran. To that end you wove fingers through his hair and pulled him off of your thigh, his eyes flickering from your wet panties sticking to your cunt up to your own eyes in question.

“I want you to kiss Johnny.”

You said it like a woman possessed. Fuck. That's exactly what you wanted. You wanted these big masculine men to fuck against their own desires but do it for you. They were dumb jocks really, probably had never fumbled around with another man before. They'd find it hard, find it wrong. You didn't really consider yourself a bad person before this moment, just a clever one. This was straying into something else, some monstrous part of you that was salivating with the thought of finally being released.

“Will you do that for me?”

You heard a choked sort of noise and looked over to see Johnny hiding his face in his hands. Of course, big Scottish man must be scared of doing such a thing. Or rather having such a thing done to him. You imagined it would be some attack to his sense of self to have a bigger man press a kiss onto him. Fuck maybe he would tear up. Maybe he would fully cry if Simon pushed inside of him. You hoped that God really was dead because if not you were sure They'd have some stern words for you after this.

“Oh I've never…”

Fuuuuuck. Simon's vulnerable eyes darting from Johnny to you were liable to make you cum on the fucking spot. You smiled indulgently down on him, running a hand over his face is a caress.

“You know I only ever do what's best for you don't you? I wouldn't ever ask you to do anything that isn't for the greater good. Do you believe in me Simon?” you said, the years of practice infusing your tone with a cloying sweetness.

“Yes” he replied, barely a breathy whisper of affirmation.

His glazed eyes looked at you with such adoration before he nuzzled his face into your hand and left a kiss there before making his way across to where Johnny was sitting on the sofa, face still hidden in his hands. He went over on his knees, crawled. You pressed your fingers against your throbbing clit, cupping yourself to try and tell your body to calm down because there was so much more to come.

Simon crawled between Johnny’s legs, going up on his knees and grabbing Johnny’s nape to drag his face down. He was whispering something in his ear, maybe trying to settle him, trying to assure him this was what they needed to do for you. Of course had you been aware Simon was hissing at Johnny to keep it together, to stop laughing about how easily you were falling for this, then the whole thing would really have been ruined. Luckily Johnny was still a soldier, Simon still his LT, so when he was ordered to put his game face on he did it. And luckily Johnny was still a good boy, Simon was still his master, so he knew that squeezing at his pup's nape always got that furrow in his brow to relax, got him eager to please and ready to tear up at the first little tease or overstimulation.

It was really destiny that you would be this level of power hungry, this eager to push and see what you could make people do. He had been training Johnny to put all his eager to please energy to good use for years, had turned a feral mutt into a feral mutt with impeccable training. The chance to turn a corrupt fox into a corrupt fox whose only desire was to be stroked and pampered was making him painfully hard. Johnny had been right, tricking you was far more delicious than just forcing you into it.

When he moved Johnny’s hands from his face it was to reveal a man looking ruined, looking liquid eyed and flushed. Simon mouthed a good boy to him before pressing a kiss to his lips. It was calculatedly shy and tentative and he kept a steadying hand on Johnny’s knee, squeezing when he felt he might lose control and start panting and licking his way into his mouth as he usually tried to do. Simon couldn’t very well punish him right now without giving the game away, so he just had to use the suggestion of a future punishment.

After the first peck you watched a slow and decadent slide into forbidden desire. They got a little bolder with each press of lips, seemed to squirm a bit more with the struggle of it feeling good but wrong. When Simon pulled away and Johnny whined despite himself you slid your hand past your waistband, needing to touch yourself or you’d die.

“You’d like it if Simon used his tongue wouldn’t you Johnny? Would be nice to feel it against yours. It’s important that you two are close isn’t it? To do your jobs well that is.”

Johnny would have agreed with full enthusiasm and pounced Simon to get them both on the floor so he could rut his hips down into the cock he was desperate for, but the hand at his bad knee squeezed again and the spark of pain reminded him of the mission. So instead he looked at you, teary and unsure.

“H-his tongue? I… I’m naw…”

“You’re not what Johnny?”

“It’s wrong.”

“Who told you that?”

You watched him play with the thin chain around his neck, the crucifix falling out of his shirt. Catholic. Oh this must be even more torturous for him. No matter, you had killed plenty of Gods already, you could kill his. Watch guilt eat and eat and eat at him until finally he gave in to the desire. Gave in to you. Let any other divine figure die in favour of a new God.

“Oh Johnny, do you think I would lead you into temptation? It’s ok, I would never make you. If you don’t like it that’s fine, you can both call it a night hm? Security is a tough job, I would never think less of you for not being up to the task. My fault really, I must have mistaken the potential I saw in you.”

He surged forward and shoved his tongue past Simon’s teeth and you moaned deeply, fingers so slippery that getting proper friction on your clit was a challenge now. You did not think you had ever been so wet in your life, feeling slick trickle out of you as they clumsily seemed to fight for dominance, saliva dripping down Johnny’s chin from how much he was trying to follow your instructions, how deep he was trying to pull Simon’s tongue with his into his mouth.

When they next pulled away they both seemed dazed, like they couldn't believe they had just done that. Poor Simon turned to look at your pleadingly, legs widening so you could see he was straining against his pants. He was rock solid from making out with Johnny and you were cumming all at once, hips rolling in time with your fingers as you breathed out instructions with your cunt still clenching in waves.

“Good, so good for me. Want you both to cum, get all of that tension out. Wouldn't ever leave you wanting would I?”

They both looked needy, but the fact that they quietly waited for instructions on how to cum was possibly the most erotic thing you had ever seen.

“It's OK, you can help each other. That's what it's all about here isn't it? Helping those in need in the community, and you're both in need. Jerk your cocks together, it'll be bonding for you to cum together like that.”

They fucking did it. Simon shoved his pants down enough to free the absolute monster of a cock he had and dragged Johnny only his lap on the floor. Johnny's cock was thick as anything and just as hard. Fuck the image of Johnny taking Simon’s cock, taking every hard inch of him in his ass. Crying about how it wouldn't fit, how it was wrong. Clutching his crucifix. You needed to make it happen soon. Maybe you could make Johnny wear a plug, say it was part of training. Get him ready to be fucked by his friend and once superior without him ever realising that's what you were doing.

Their precum was already making the slide of it easier as Simon took the lead, big hand wrapping around both of them and slowly pumping, staring at it in fascination. You were slowly overstimulating your clit, feeling that tension start growing again already.

“Spit on it Johnny.”

He did it without hesitation, his saliva making Simon’s jerking squelch. It didn't take long until Johnny was begging, needing to cum. You didn't even register that it wasn't you he was looking at as he begged, you were too lost in sensation, eyes locked on their cocks rubbing together.

“Go on, cum. Both of you.”

Simon sped his hand and his low grunt (the ‘s’ok pup, cum’ so low you hadn’t heard it over your pleasure) combined with Johnny's drooling and panting sent you spiralling over the edge again as they both shot ropes of sticky cum all over each other.

Fuck. What else could you make people do?

–

Over the next few weeks life got even easier for you. Simon and Johnny were excellent right hands, earning respect from all of your followers and taking on almost all of the tasks you had (which you had made sure were as minimal as possible already, the whole point of this endeavour was to live an easy life).

Simon was careful to make sure to be seen with you, start planting the seeds in people's minds that they were an extension of you. Johnny was rapidly losing patience which made him incredibly satisfying to fuck because he got to beat every single complaint out of him. It was him that wanted to go this route so he was going to finish what he started. It had been a long time since he had seen Johnny get so worked up over anything and he forgot how much he enjoyed him when he was like this, biting at every little bit of bait that Simon left with the express purpose of having an excuse to punish him later for it.

Johnny needed putting down when he got this wound up, at this point Simon had taken him over his knee at least once a day, collared and leashed him most nights, fucked him silly so much that he was constantly aching and plugged to keep ready for a quickie when he needed it. Which right now was inhumanly often and with them still in the bunkhouse they were having to get very creative with the venue. Johnny was going especially feral given that you had only been alone with them once more since you had promoted them and you had acted like last time had never happened. Clever actually, Simon had to hand it to you, you were very good at playing with people. He could see the little glimmer in your eye, the delight at seeing how Johnny seemed to be vibrating with anticipation of something that never came. You were setting him up to beg, making sure that when he gave in and went directly against his God that it would be him pleading for you to let him do so.

It wasn’t like you had ever been close enough to tell, but that little cross around Johnny’s neck had SR carved into the back of it. Simon had corrupted the Roman Catholic out of this pup years ago, the cross only came out on special occasions when Johnny wanted to play coy and innocent or when Simon wanted to remind him who he belonged to (because it certainly wasn’t a God, it was his fucking lieutenant). Well and now, when they both knew the sight of it would give you such a power trip that you’d fall right into their trap.

“I was thinking about your house” you said, the three of you standing where the foundations were already being put down.

“Aye?”

“It just seems such a waste when I have extra bedrooms in my home.”

“It would be such an honour to stay in any of them. Would we not be intruding?”

“Of course not Simon, you are my right hand men now. It makes sense for you to stay close to me. To one another.”

You swore you could see Johnny’s ears perk up, a phantom tail flicking quickly behind him in rapt attention at that. Of course their minds would go there, just like you wanted them to. It hadn’t been too difficult for you to be patient, to play with them so that you didn’t push too far too fast. It was something you were very good at.

“Would you… still let us build something here?”

“Oh?”

“I think a temple of sorts would be nice. Somewhere for you to relax. You work so hard for all of us and if you are taking us into your space I’d hate for you to have nowhere to go to meditate alone.”

It only took a few days to wear you down. You had no idea how much influence they already had with your followers, how easy it was for them to plant that idea there and have them be the ones appealing to you to please allow them to do this for you. And while that shred of morality you had left was screaming at you not to do this, not to actually Deify yourself lest it go too far, the adoration inflated your ego and drowned your conscience out.

So they started to build your temple.

–

“Ah! Like that. That’s it, that’s what I need” you moaned out, Simon in between your legs worshipping.

You had moved them into your home, the large house comfortable and spacious in comparison to the bunkhouse the other followers stayed in, and that night Simon had come to your room and gotten on his knees for you. How could you say no to him?

The adoration of your followers was nothing compared to this. They loved you yes, but fuck Simon was reverant, tongue swirling around your cunt so there was more holy water for him to glut himself on. This was decadent, languid on your bed with him focusing entirely on your pleasure, expecting nothing in return. This man who was spending his days by your side, overlooking the building of a temple in your honour. You could not decide in this moment if you wanted him to fuck you on the altar when it was done or if you wanted to fuck him.

It was a good conundrum to have because you felt that you could simply have both. You could have whatever the fuck you wanted with this man by your side. Who could stand against him and Johnny? And who would ever worship you more? You had never actually bought your own bullshit before, but if he kept this up maybe you were some sort of God because how else could you be living this deliciously?

You tugged his hair sharply to get him off of you and pushed at him until he was on his back. You would take what you wanted from him because it was your right to do so. He did not complain as you settled your cunt on his face and rode him, if anything his clever tongue worked harder to please you. You held his head and used him, and he drank you down and thanked you for the privilege after, vanishing out of your room as silently as he had arrived.

–

It only took another few weeks for Johnny to break and oh he broke so perfectly. Simon came to your room every night to pray, and Johnny must know, must have heard how Simon spilled thank yous against your cunt even as you pushed down to deprive him of oxygen, even as you smeared your slick all over his face, moving exactly as you liked with no consideration of him. You never touched him in any way meant for his pleasure, only to use him for yours.

It was not Simon who knocked lightly on the door. Simon didn’t knock at all, he always just let himself in.

“Come in Johnny.”

He was nervous, that much was clear. You did enjoy the sight of him in only his boxers and crucifix, moonlight doing wonders in making him look incredibly edible. You wanted to knead his pecs like they were tits, wanted to sink your teeth into the meat of his neck until you tasted blood and he cried out your name instead of his God’s.

“I want…”

“Hm? You want?”

“Will ye let me please ye? I ken Si… I’m naw good enough for ye, but I want tae be. It’s just, I’ve never uh… I’m a quick study.”

And with perfect timing, in walked Simon. Couldn’t have planned it better yourself (well, actually Johnny had planned it, Simon had laughed and ruffled his hair at how eager he had been to act the part of the blushing virgin before unhooking the leash and getting him out of his collar and into his crucifix).

“Good evening Simon” you purred.

The man didn’t really acknowledge that Johnny was in the room, instead going to his place by the foot of your bed and kneeling. It was always where you started, with him lapping at you until you ordered him onto the bed or the floor so you could take what you needed. Only you pushed him away with your foot when he tried to pull at your shorts, holding him at leg length and looking at Johnny.

“Come sit will you?”

He nervously shuffled over, sitting next to you on the bed with his eyes darting uncomfortably down to Simon kneeling pretty, your foot still holding him away from you. He swallowed and you thought it sweet how he held your gaze to avoid watching as you motioned for Simon to move and he did so without hesitation. Johnny still didn’t look at him even as you put a hand to his knee to make him spread his legs enough for Simon’s broad shoulders to fit between them.

“If you want to learn I’d never stop you Johnny, I want you to be the best at the things you’d like. And I’m sure Simon makes a wonderful teacher.”

Simon didn’t need prompting, obedient and perfect boy that he was. He started licking up Johnny’s thick thigh the same way he would have if you were sitting there. Johnny, bless him, gripped onto your leg like it was a lifeline, fingers digging into the plush flesh hard enough that you imagined it may leave marks. You swallowed his loud whine with your mouth when Simon slipped his boxers down and took his hard cock right to the root. It almost made you laugh, if you tried to take that in your throat you would certainly be gagging and crying.

When you pulled away Johnny was a whining mess, one hand fisted in the sheets and the other still dug into the fat of your thigh. You wondered if he had ever gotten head. Certainly not from another man. Oh wouldn’t his priest be so disappointed in him. You could imagine a severe man in the robes of God, looking with disgust at the whore before him. But you were a kinder creature, letting him indulge in pleasure without telling him he couldn’t.

Well, to a point. You pushed Simon to stop with the frankly immaculate looking blow job when it was clear from Johnny’s hips rutting that he was close. Then you swung your leg around, straddling Johnny and squeezing yourself to him, stopping him from trying to get friction from you.

“Not yet Johnny, you need to be patient hm? Simon, open him up. Tongue first, then fingers.”

Johnny was tearing up, looking at you like he didn’t understand why you were doing this while feeling horribly guilty that he liked it. He howled when Simon’s tongue started playing at his rim, his hands gripping at your hips to try and make you move against him. You put a hand to his throat and squeezed lightly.

“It’s ok, you can take it can’t you?”

“I-I cannae, please bonnie, I’m naw- I dinnae-” he whined before he choked on nothing, eyes blown wide, “h-his tongue is, fuck it’s inside.”

“I know Johnny, I know. Is it too much then? Should I tell him to stop? If you can’t take it, then at least you tried” you said, sweet as anything but putting a tiny edge of disappointment into your tone.

“I can take it! Please, I can! Dinnae make him stop, I can take whatever ye gie me!”

“Good boy.”

Oh, the reaction to those two words was worth exploring. It was like he changed from a man to some pathetic animal, eyes watery and begging, hands pawing at your hips while his own desperately tried to buck up. You felt how he froze, heard how he choked when Simon pressed a finger into him.

“Hmm that’s it, take what you’re given, you’ll be good and hold off for me hm?” you cooed, moving a hand to run fingers under his chain, all the way around until you were behind his neck and could yank, have that crucifix choking him. “Looks better like this Johnny, almost like a pretty collar for you.”

Jackpot. Even with you clamping down to give him as little room for friction as possible you felt the hot gush of his cum, him getting there from being choked, being compared to a dog to be collared. Well if he was going to be a mutt that came without your permission, the permission of his master, then he needed to learn his place no?

“Fuck pet, told you to be patient.”

“Sorry, m’sorry bonnie. Ah! M-make him stop, s’too much!”

“Make him stop? But he’s been good for me, followed everything I’ve asked, You went ahead and finished without permission. Wouldn’t make sense to punish him and reward you, I need to be fair pet.”

He was clearly overstimulated, his hips trying to rut even as he gasped at every bit of friction he got. Oh you wanted to see him fucked out and ruined. You wanted his heart on a fucking platter.

“More Simon. Johnny here is going to let you fuck him tonight, so you need to open him up properly.”

“I-I-” Johnny stuttered, bottom lip quivering and eyes wide and wet. If you weren't so high on the decadence of having these two men at your mercy you’d have questioned just how practised that was.

“Tell me Johnny. Tell me what it is you want.”

Tell me what it is I want to hear that you want. Be a good boy, don’t disappoint me. You’d hate to disappoint me after all I’ve done for you.

“I want Simon tae fuck me tonight.”

“Good boy” you said, hammering that final nail in God’s coffin as you yanked again at the chain so hard it snapped, taking your trophy and tossing it onto your desk without ever having examined it closely.

You watched Simon ruin him at your command. You drank their praise like champagne, bit into their gratitude like strawberries bursting their juice on your chin. You were greedy in how many times you used them for your pleasure, their fingers, their tongues, the sight of them overcome with hedonistic abandon.

You felt like a God.

–

The temple was beautiful, no effort or expense spared. The first floor was a space for everyone, for the brand new community gatherings that you occasionally led but had mostly been letting Simon and Johnny lead. Above that was two glorious floors of space only for you. The only other people permitted to set foot in here were your two right hands. It was something else, being in the luxuriant bed drinking champagne and watching the two of them play with each other for your benefit.

You could not stop thinking about the way Johnny had writhed at the mention of a collar when you had taken his crucifix for yourself (it still sat on the desk right where you had left it). You could not stop imagining how such a thing would look around his thick neck, how your other followers would look at it and be jealous that he got to be so visibly claimed by you.

As always your wish was their command. Simon had presented you with a gorgeous necklace of sorts, almost a choker, the pendant a symbol you didn’t recognise.

“This doesn’t look like a collar for you.”

“It’s for you. The symbol is from the cult of Venus, we thought… well we thought if you could wear it, show people, then when we wore it…”

“You want them to know you are wearing it for me.”

Perfect fucking boys weren’t they. They didn’t just want to show up in a collar, they wanted to show up in a symbol associated with you. It was pretty enough what they had chosen, delicate and clearly made with care and devotion. You turned and lifted your hair so he could put it on you and the very next community gathering was Johnny eagerly explaining the symbol to your followers. It was etched into the temple walls soon after.

–

The realisation happened all at once. You only attended community gatherings for special occasions now and when you did they were all looking at you like you were their God made flesh. Your followers had become something else, something well beyond a little eco-living commune. That had not been your doing.

The door was locked. You could not leave your space in the Temple. Your hand flew to the back of your necklace, realising with a startle that you couldn’t take it off. Simon and Johnny never did have collars made. Why would they? You were rapidly realising they had never intended to. You looked in the mirror, tried to find a clue. The pendant… it was only when you drew it over and over again that you figured it out. This wasn’t some symbol of an old Goddess, it was the letters S R J M twisted around to make a pretty symbol. You sat and stewed, waiting for them to get back. When they did you were sat on the bed, glowering at them.

“Aww ye figure us out bonnie?”

“You played me.”

“Like a fucking violin sweetheart” Simon cooed, walking over to flick the pendant.

You huffed up at him. Everything was completely fucked now. You had all but ordered your followers to treat these two as your spokesmen. You had been slowly vanishing from public life, ingraining in their minds that you were a God who lived in a temple and only graced them with your presence when they had really earned it. All this after years of breaking them down so they thought nothing they ever did was good enough, so of course they would never think they had earned it.

And you had never used violence for anything, you were soft and lived on champagne and strawberries for fuck sake, it wasn’t like you could brute force your way out of this. You were enough of a schemer to know when you had been outplayed.

“So the little shy virginal act?”

Johnny laughed and came over to nuzzle into your hair.

“Ye’d naw believe how many times Si has been in my arse hen, this isnae even the first house of God he’s bent me over in.”

You scowled and pushed his head away, but his eyes only sparkled with excitement as he bullied it right back into nuzzling you like a fucking dog.

“Pup has been so excited about you finally figuring it out. You’ve been teasing him for months now, don’t think it’s time to give him a treat for how well behaved he’s been for you?”

It’s not like you were against the idea, it had been delicious being the dominant one all this time but there was something interesting about the idea of letting Simon take control, letting him get Johnny to fuck you the way you had let him fuck Johnny. Because that would be the case you knew now. It was so obvious knowing what you knew, you really should have figured out way sooner that Simon had always been in control. All the things you had done since he got here that you had thought your ideas weren’t yours at all, he had put them in your head.

“So that’s it then? You keep me here and take over?”

Simon was looking at you with something deranged behind those eyes. It was dreadfully exciting.

“You're coming to tonight's community gathering. You can decide if puppy gets a treat after that.”

–

The Birth of God happened on that brilliant Friday evening. One moment you had been fighting against your conscience, and the next you had let go. You had walked forward, no floated, and pressed a holy kiss to his head. Watching one of your followers plunge a knife into the heart of another on your altar, both with a smile on their faces, was fucking beautiful.

The Revelation happened about the same time. You dipped your fingers in the blood (the same colour as those tomatoes he so loved, the tomatoes that his body would feed and your followers would eat) and marked his murderer with your symbol, the initials of the men that had made you God.

Puppy had more than earned his treat.

#mhairiwrites #cod #fanfic #ghoap x reader #simon riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #simon riley x john mactavish #please read the cws #also please let me exist on champagne and strawberries because I am OVER IT #if I was not a depressed little mess and could actually write smut right now you would have gotten reader getting railed on a bloody altar #would have been great

321 notes · View notes

mountain-maiden · 3 months

Text

Sweet Nothing

Summary: Joel comes home from patrol in need of comfort and reassurance.

WC: 2.7k

TW: 18+ MDNI, Oral (m receiving), men whimpering, religious imagery, Taylor Swift references, author went to catholic school during formative years, author has never enjoyed giving head and didn't know how to write it :/

This is the first fanfic I've ever posted so please be nice to me!!

The snow crunches beneath Joel’s boots, yielding to the solid weight of a man on his way home. Moonlight filters in through the clouds, guiding him to your shared abode as the rest of Jackson sleeps soundly. It had been a extra long patrol, his late return made even more devastating by the knowledge you had most likely made dinner for two and eaten alone.

His hand warms a pebble in his pocket, your pebble really. You had picked it for him during a patrol together last July, claiming the warm brown of the rock matched the honeyed irises of his eyes. He remembers how he scoffed at the notion but here he was months later, clutching the small stone for some semblance of comfort. You had rediscovered it a couple months ago, borrowing his jacket and marveling at the tiny stone that had made it all this way, stowing away in his pocket.

“Does it ever miss the river sometimes?” You had asked, a small smirk playing on your lips as you slipped it back into his coat. He’d been found out, yet he had never really minded your small discoveries.

He could never simply lay back and bare his soul to you, but with each calloused layer you peeled away, Joel found himself eager for you to reach his core. To peer into the depths of his soul and deem him still worthy of your love. He didn’t expect God to forgive the sins he’d committed, had stopped praying for that long ago. But at the altar of your hips, he’d get on his knees and beg for absolution until he dissolved into the dust he knelt on. Joel didn’t believe in much these days, but he believed in you with an intensity that could rival the most devout priests of the days of before.

Finally, he is bathed in the warm light of your home, bleeding through the blinds and blanketing the snow covered path to your front porch, beckoning him inside. Joel opens the door and immediately all the tension he had been carrying begins to dissipate. The warmth of your home melts the frost from his bones as he kicks off his mud coated boots, discards his soaked through socks, and hangs his threadbare coat, eager to see your face.

He find you in the kitchen, humming a tune he remembers from right before the outbreak, something Sarah had made him listen to, probably that Taylor Swift she was always going on about. Your whirl around when you sense his presence, eyes lighting up as you realize it’s Joel standing in your kitchen.

“I like that song,” He smiles, walking forward to embrace you, “Sarah used to listen to it a lot.”

“She had good taste,” You loop your arms around his neck, pulling him in, “Never would have taken Joel Miller for a swiftie.”

He can feel you chuckle at your own joke, but he feels no need to defend himself. Instead he focuses on the feeling of your body as he holds you against him, as tight as he can without fear of hurting you. It’s a ridiculous notion, but Joel finds himself hoping if he presses himself to you just right, he can meld your two beings so he’ll never have to be without again. It’s a selfish thought, you have a life outside of him, which is why he doesn’t voice it, but that doesn’t stop him from trying.

Eventually you pull away to inspect his face for any sign of injury, but all you find is Joel doing the same to you. It’s almost comical how the man will be on patrol in the dangers of the wilderness for days and still worry for your health while you lounge in the safety of Jackson’s walls.

“I missed you,” Joel whispers, and he means it with the entirety of his being. The words incapable of expressing how devastatingly incomplete he felt without the melody of your laughter accompanying his meals, the bite of your scolding when he was reckless, the warmth of your body pressed against him at night.`

“I missed you too,” you smile, reaching up to comb your fingers through his hair, smoothing out the greying strands that had become tousled by the wind during his journey home.

“I saved you food,” you gesture to a closed tupperware sitting on the counter, “Do you want to shower while I reheat it for you?”

“I- Um, would ya mind joinin’ me?” Joel asks, suddenly feeling shy as if he’d just asked for your hand in marriage instead of company in the shower.

“Not at all,” you take his hand and walk to the bathroom, unable to hold back a small grin at the knowledge Joel craved your closeness just as much as you craved his.

You enter the small room and sit Joel on the closed toilet while you fuss over the water temperature. When you deem the water an acceptable heat, your attention returns to Joel’s seated form. You reach for the bottom of Joel’s shirt and he begins to protest.

“I don’t need yer help takin’ my goddamn shirt off,” He huffs, no real heat to his words as he lifts his arms to aid your efforts.

“Just because you don’t need it doesn’t mean you don’t want it,” you tease, “it’s okay Joel, we both know you’re a big softie in disguise.”

He grumbles some form of an argument but makes no real effort to convince you. Instead he quickly becomes distracted as you kneel to unbutton his jeans, belt already discarded on the floor beside you. You pull his jeans to the floor and look up to meet his heated gaze, a small smirk playing on your lips. He holds back a groan as you peel off his boxers, removing the last barrier between him and your mouth, and watches in dismay as you stand up.

“We’ll have plenty of time for that later Miller, now get in the shower,” you instruct before beginning to remove your own layers.

Joel shakes his head and laughs as he steps into the warm stream of the shower. He lets his head hang as he feels the water cascade down his back, removing the days of sweat and grime from his skin. You pull back the curtain and step in to join him, immediately reaching out to loop your arms around his neck.

“Hey Darlin’” Joel gives you a lopsided smile, letting you know he was finally starting to relax.

“Hi baby,” you giggle, “Come here often?”

You watch in delight as he chuckles and pretends to pull away, “Didn’t realize I invited a dork into my shower,” Joel snorts.

“Oh please, you knew full well you were inviting a dork into your shower,” you laugh, reaching up to tip his head back and let the water run through his hair.

“And, I actually prefer the term comedian,” you continue, stepping behind him to reach the shampoo and conditioner.

“Comedian my ass,” you hear Joel mutter as you pour the shampoo into your hands.

The steam from the shower envelopes the both of you as Joel stands beneath the warm water. Your fingers tracing slow circles against his scalp, melting away his tension. It wasn't just the physical weariness from the patrol; it was the weight of the world he carried on his shoulders, the burden of surviving in a harsh post-apocalyptic reality. And, as your fingers worked through his hair, you could sense the tough facade he tried to hard to maintain slipping away.

"Joel," you whisper, your voice a soft caress, "you don't have to do it all alone. You have me."

He sighs in a mixture of relief and vulnerability, his guard down in the sanctuary of your embrace.

"You've been taking on Tommy's patrols, fixing everyone’s houses, looking after Ellie," you continue, tilting his head back to rinse the soap from him hair, "but you can't save everyone."

His response is a low murmur, the weight of his responsibilities momentarily silenced by the soothing rhythm of your touch.

"I can't just watch. People rely on me," Joel croaks, his voice raw with the admission of his own limitations. How could he explain his selfish motives, how it wasn’t about helping them, but saving his soul? How could he explain the weight of his past, how little time he had to redeem himself, how little time he had to become someone worthy of your love?

"And who do you rely on?" You ask, hands reaching around to his front, tracing patterns on his abdomen. "You don't need repent for surviving, Joel."

Finally, he turns to face you and you press a soft kiss to his mouth, relishing in the restrained groan he lets out. You pull away to find his eyes glazed over in lust, gaze fixed on your lips. Apparently you take too long to reconnect the kiss, because suddenly Joel is surging forward, capturing your mouth in a desperate kiss.

He kisses you like a man starved, teeth colliding, tongue demanding entrance to your mouth, pressing your back to the cool tile of the shower wall. Fitting his thigh between your legs, you can feel his length hardening against your hip while you grind on his thigh, letting out a soft moan at the feeling.

“‘Atta girl, so good for me.” He murmers, words spurring you on as you let out small whimpers of frustration, the angle just off, or the pressure not quite right. Joel shifts to get to his knees desperate to taste you, but halts when you grab his arm, tugging him back up.

“Just, let me,” you sink to your knees, Joel’s broad shoulders shielding you from the spray. You press light kisses to his hips and he can’t stifle the soft whimpers that escape while you continue to tease him, lips brushing everywhere except the place he needs you most.

“Fuck baby, Ple-” He chokes on his words when you suddenly take as much of him as you can into your mouth at once. His eyes rolling back as he fights to keep his hips from thrusting forward.

His fingers find purchase in your hair, not to guide you but to ground himself as you send him to what he imagines is the closest he’ll ever get to heaven. A sinner such as himself is never going to see those pearly gates, but in the tight heat of your mouth he can’t find it in himself to regret any of the sins that paved his path to you, his own personal salvation.

You continue to take more of him with each pass, using your hands to make up for the length you can’t fit, encouraged by Joel’s mixture of soft gasps and choked moans.

“Fuck baby, I’m not gonna last long” He warns.

Joel's words only motivate you further, bracing yourself with his thighs, relaxing your throat and taking him deeper into your mouth. He can feel himself hurtling towards the edge with each passing movement, his hips bucking involuntarily against your ministrations.

“Takin’ me so well, sweetheart, so perfect for me,” endless praise spills from his mouth as he feels his climax approach, knowing he can’t last much longer.

“Gonna swallow for me, pretty girl?” He knows you can’t answer, he also knows the answer is already yes.

He feels the familiar pooling of warmth in his gut and all the warning you get is a drawn out groan before he’s spilling into your mouth. Joel towers over you panting, bracing himself against the tile of the shower wall as he recovers from the waves of pleasure still crashing over him.

“So fucking good to me,” Joel murmers, reaching down to help you off the slippery floor of the shower.

“Not doing anything you don’t deserve,” you give him a quick peck before turning the water off, having used beyond an indulgent amount.

You make to step out of the tub but Joel pulls you back in for a searing kiss, battling his irrational fear that the second you leave the shower, he’ll discover you were just a figment of his imagination. An angel bestowing a temporary blessing on a man built more of sin than flesh.

When he pulls away, you leave to fetch a pair of towels and return to dry him off. Joel is ashamed of how underneath your attentive care he allows himself to feel loved, how your patient hands wipe away not just the droplets of water but also the misdeeds of his past, leaving behind a glowing trail of love. He knows he doesn’t deserve any of this, but he’s taken plenty of things that didn’t belong to him in the time before you met, and he figures your affections for the man you believe him to be, a good man, can be his one last stolen good, his perfect crime.

“I love you,” you run your fingers along the broad expanse of his shoulders, before cupping his face, forcing him to meet your eyes.

“I love you too,” Joel whispers, allowing you to take his hand and lead him to your shared room, forgoing clothes and crawling into bed.

“Can I return the favor?” Joel asks, beginning to position himself further down the bed before you grab his arm and pull him back up.

“We’re both tired Joel, you’ve been awake for days, lets just sleep. Yeah?”

“You’re too good for me baby,” Joel brushes a stray hair from your face, “I’m hopin’ you won’t figure that out for a long time though.”

You laugh softly, rolling your eyes at the man above you, “one day I’m going to get it through your thick skull that you are a good man, Joel Miller.”

“My skull ain’t that thick, you wound me Darlin’” Joel clutches his heart dramatically before draping himself over you, resting his head on the soft cushion of your chest.

“Aw baby, it’s not a bad thing, a skull that thick has made you real hard to kill,” you chuckle, softly tapping at his head in jest. He lazily swats at your hand before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling himself closer to you.

Minutes pass in silence, you assume he’s fallen asleep and are about to reach for your book, when you hear the soft rasp of Joel’s half asleep voice.

“Sometime’s I think the end might be comin’,” He murmurs, burrowing his face in the valley of your breasts, determined to mold his body to yours, “Everyone’s up to somethin’.”

You frown at his sleep-muddled words, clearly not meant to be voiced, and stroke his hair, “Yeah, there’s been a lot of push and shoving.”

You wait for a response and when a few moments pass in silence, you grab your book and begin to read, hoping the rustling of pages isn’t enough to wake Joel. You get lost in the story and hours pass before you are closing the book and turning off the lamp, preparing to sleep. You have to resettle into the pillows and the movement causes a disruption in Joel’s slumber, a quiet groan leaving him as he attempts to get closer again.

“I might be too soft for all of it,” He murmurs, pulling you into him so he can hear your heartbeat as he drifts off. In his sleep addled state, Joel had confessed his greatest sin. The softness you cultivated within him, intertwined with the fear that perhaps he was already too late for redemption. He could carry the weight of regret every day, but it was growing hard to ignore the feeling of futility when faced with trying to mend a lifetime of mistakes in the few years he has left. Why endure the struggle for redemption when he could find heaven in the warmth of your embrace? A sinner too complacent to repent.

In the delicate balance of vulnerability and resignation, he clings to you, his sanctuary in the face of an irredeemable past. In your arms, Joel finds reprieve from the crushing guilt, thoughts consumed by the comforting rhythm of your heartbeat. God might demand repentance for entrance to heaven, but all you’d ever asked of him was sweet nothing.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x you

143 notes · View notes

rattusn0rvegicus · 10 months

Text

Happy Disability Pride Month! Today I would like to talk about schizophrenia. :]

I think a lot of people see schizophrenia as simply hallucinations and Maybe Delusions but like, that's not all it is by far.

There can be speech issues. This can look like issues with word-finding, tangential or circumstancial speech, or even go so far as "word salad."

There are also negative symtoms (essentially, really bad executive dysfunction + symptoms that can look like depression such as lack of experiencing pleasure or emotions in general) and cognitive symptoms (such as: difficulty concentrating, short term memory issues, brain fog, slowed thinking, etc)

Antipsychotic medication usually doesn't do much for these symptoms. It can sometimes help, but it usually does nothing and can also make those symptoms worse.

There are physical aspects to schizophrenia as well. Schizophrenics are also at a higher risk for type II diabetes and metabolic dysfunction even if they don't take medication , and antipsychotic medication makes this risk even higher. Some schizophrenics deal with catatonia, a condition that can affect movement - usually by essentially freezing and being unable to move (not the same as freezing in fear or being really depressed), and sometimes characterized by hyperkinetic movement. Malignant catatonia can even cause death. And finally, many schizophrenics have Tardive Dyskinesia, an iatrogenic movement disorder - that is, caused by antipsychotic treatment. TD causes involuntary muscle movements, that can sometimes even get so bad they cause muscular atrophy.

Schizophrenia can also cause fatigue, and antipsychotics are notorious for inducing drowsiness/fatigue/somnolence.

Not every schizophrenic person will deal with all this stuff but like, yeah. It's a lot more than just hallucinations and delusions.

This is not to say that schizophrenia as a psychiatric construct is not without its flaws, but that's a post for another day.

This is also not to say schizophrenia is a death sentence or that having schizophrenia means you're incapable of doing anything positive with your life or enjoying your life. That, again, is a post for another day. If you want to read something more inspiring after all this, check out my post here on highly successful schizophrenics. Additionally, around 86% of schizophrenics achieve functional recovery (this is not an absence of symptoms, but rather, an improved quality of life).

#schizophrenia #actuallyschizophrenic #seriouslyschizophrenic #disability #Disability pride month #actuallydisabled

417 notes · View notes

loose-angel · 1 year

Note

Hi can I request a headcanon with Jake, Lo’ak, and Neteyam where their female mate gets angry at them one day for them being very protective of her yelling at them to leave her alone as she feels a bit suffocated and she just wants freedom to do her own thing and they react by putting their head down with their tail between their legs and ears lying flat against their head apologising very quietly before leaving with tears in their eyes and how they’d react when they’re sad and their mate coming to them to fix things with apologies from her as well ending is fluffy please? Thanks 😊

𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 Jake, Neteyam, and Lo’ak headcanons notes: i had a lot of fun making this!! esp for Lo'ak cuz its my first time writing for him... also sorry that jakes is a little short i unfortunately see him as a dad but i tried to make it somewhat romantic xDD hope u all enjoy!

Jake Sully

Jake was super protective over you, despite him being rather ‘new’ to the Na’vi lifestyle, he still felt it was imperative for him to be your protector no matter what.

Because of this he stopped you from doing a lot of things

But if he’s with you then go right on ahead!!

But sometimes you just want to do stuff, alone.

But again, he just doesnt get that

One day, you try to go out hunting with your friend, but before you could even grab your bow, jake stops you

“Where ya going sweetheart?”

The usual phrase that made you feel so warm, now just ticks you off.

Before you could control yourself, words just start spilling out of your mouth.

“Jake! I don’t need any protecting! I was perfectly fine and alive before we even met! So just leave me alone!”

Jakes ears flatten against his head and he lets out a sigh

“Baby I –” He reaches out for you but you storm off before he could say anything

You come back from the hunt, filled with regret.

You knew you shouldnt have yelled, and you could’ve phrased things differently, but it was so frustrating!

You expect Jake to avoid you when you arrive home, but instead he greets you right at the entrance

He carries a bouquet of flowers, handing it to you

“I’m sorry for being a little overprotective over you my angel, I’m just afraid that something bad would happen to you”

“I’m sorry, I know you just want to protect me, I didnt mean to yell”

The two of you make up and nuzzle together in your hammock for the rest of the evening

Neteyam Sully

Neteyam grew up with three younger siblings, so it was inevitable that he would be protective over you as well

But he lets you do as you please

The over protectiveness began after a hunting accident that ended up with you having a fractured leg

thankfully the medicinal herbs helped speed up the healing process

But ever since then Neteyam was wary of letting you do anything without him

You try going hunting with your friends, or flying on your ikran but Neteyam simply refused.

“I can’t let you out of my sight my love, how about we go hunting tomorrow instead?”

You turn away, not responding to him, he reaches out to you but you hiss at him

Hes obviously taken aback, you’ve never so much as frowned at him, so this was new

But he was used to conflict, and even more used to solving conflict, so he stays calm

“My Tanhi, you know I just want to protect you, I promise we'll go hunting tomorrow, and you can even invite your friends too”

“Neteyam, I am not a weak child, I can do things on my own” You growled, ripping your arm from his hold. You go to leave your tent but Neteyam stops you.

“Don’t touch me! You treat me like i'm incapable, well sorry I’m not like your squad buddies but I don’t need you!”

Neteyam frowns, his ears flatten against his head, he falters in his step and lets go of your arm.

“Well if you feel you are better off in the hunt without me. . .” He trailed off, refusing to meet your eyes

You sigh, mostly in annoyance with your own actions

“I’m sorry my love, I didn’t mean it like that, I didn’t mean it at all, I just want to be able to do things on my own again”

He nods along to your words but still refuses to meet your eyes

You gently grab a hold of his chin, lifting it up, you nuzzle against his nose lightly

“I’m sorry ma’Neteyam, I will always need you”

Lo'ak Sully

Lo’ak was on the normal side of things

Once the two of you became a legitimate couple, he did feel some sense of protectiveness over you, but he never let it guide his emotions and decisions

Up until he realized that other men of the clan had no respect for your relationship and would continue to flirt with you

You being your kind self, you didn’t notice these advances as anything more than kind compliments, especially since you were already with your beloved Lo’ak

But Lo’ak saw thru their ‘kind’ words

It was no secret that Lo’ak faced a little bit of insecurity about himself, so seeing that these seemingly better men (they are not) are trying to take you away from him, his overprotectiveness kicked in

Lo’ak then decided that you were under no circumstances allowed out of his sight.

He tried to not be overbearing about it, if you wanted to hang out with friends he would simply watch from a distance, ready to pounce on any man who bothered to approach you

You were fine with it at first, waving it off as one of Lo’aks antics but as time passed and Lo’ak kept at it you started to feel bothered about it

“Lo’ak, do you really have to come along?” You and your friends decided to go out to the forest to pick out some fruit for the clan (which was also a secret gossip session) and yet again, the boy was trailing behind you

“Yeah, obviously, cuz these guys can’t get the hint” He grunted

“Well I don’t need you trailing behind me all the time!” You rolled your eyes

“It’s not like you reject these guys, you let them come all over you!”

“Leave me alone! I don’t want you anywhere near me!” You hissed, you turned around and continued your trek to the forest grounds.

Lo’ak keeps his eyes on you as you further the distance between you both

His ears flatten against his head, tail swishing softly

Once youre out of sight, Lo’ak turns around to begin walking back to his home

A few hours pass before you come back from the forest

“Ma’Lo’ak? Where are you my love?”

You approach the na’vi boy on the hammock, you lock eyes and you notice a slight puffiness to his own

Immediately you felt 10x worse

“I’m sorry my love,” You climb into the hammock with him, thankful that he opens his arms for you, “I’m so sorry about what I said earlier”

He doesnt say anything, so you resort to peppering his face with kisses

Soon enough he lets out a giggle and the both of you are able to hug it out

#avatar #avatar way of water #jake sully #jake sully x y/n #jake sully x reader #jake sully imagine #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x reader #neteyam fluff #loak sully #loak x reader #loak x y/n #loak fluff

940 notes · View notes

a-sleepy-raven · 11 months

Note

Heya! Can you perhaps write some general relationship headcanons for leon, luis and krauser?

Hey there! Thank you for your request, I had a lot of fun working on this one. :) Hope you enjoy!

Characters: Leon Kennedy, Luis Serra, Jack Krauser

Notes: not proofread, might be slighty ooc

General relationship HCs (gn!reader)

Leon S. Kennedy

Leon is unfortunately quite used to losing people close to him, so he’s incredibly hesitant to actually start a relationship with you. He can’t help but be convinced that he’s going to lose you too sooner or later, be it because something happens to you or because you realize that he’s not what you want or need and decide to leave him – hence why he probably tries to push you away at first.

However, once you manage to get him, Leon is yours forever. He’s a loyal and loving partner and will do everything in his power to make you happy, especially since he’s well aware that being in a relationship with him isn’t always easy. It honestly never ceases to amaze him that you’re willing to put up with all of this – the traumatic stuff he went through in the past, the fact that he’s not allowed to talk about anything regarding his work and that he sometimes has to leave for weeks without being able to tell you where he’s going – and he really appreciates that you’re still by his side.

Especially in the beginning of your relationship, Leon struggled with letting his guard down. Like I said, he has gone through so much and feels like he can’t deal with losing another person he cares about, so he has been really cautious and hesitant at first. But as the time passed and the two of you got closer, Leon found himself realizing that he can’t imagine his life without you in it. The fear of losing you will never leave him completely but he became more confident about your relationship over time and now, you’re one of the few people he trusts completely.

He’s not one to get jealous easily since he trusts you and knows that you would never betray him like that. But he still hates when others are clearly trying to flirt with you, especially if you’re obviously uncomfortable with the whole situation. It makes his blood boil when someone is unable to respect your boundaries, and in moments like that, he definitely won’t hesitate to step in.

Loves to cuddle with you. There’s just something so soothing and calming about your presence and whenever he feels the urge to just shut the entire world out, he just pulls you close and buries his face in the crook of your neck.

Luis Serra

Better be prepared for lots of teasing and flirting because Luis likes to see you all flustered. Even before you got together, he never missed an opportunity to flirt with you, mainly to catch your interest, but also because he enjoyed figuring out which kind of comments and compliments make you blush. Also, lots of pet names, both before and after you started dating, though they became sweeter and more loving once you got together.

People who don’t know him might assume that he’s incapable of being in a relationship since they only see his flirtatious and charming nature, but Luis is actually very faithful and would never betray you in any way. He often jokes that he has no reason to flirt with someone else because he’s already got the main prize by his side. He loves and adores you with every fiber of his being, and he’s 100 percent sure that there’s no one out there who could make him feel more loved than you do.

You wouldn’t expect it but Luis actually turns into a blushing and flustered mess whenever you compliment him. Your words are always so genuine that it makes him melt on the spot, although he really tries his best to hide it because he feels like he has a reputation to lose and therefore doesn’t want to embarrass himself, not even in front of you. However, you know him well enough to still see the effect your words have on him.

So. Many. Kisses. Luis uses every opportunity to press his lips to yours, your forehead or your cheeks. He’s someone who doesn’t mind PDA in general but if you’re uncomfortable with it, he accepts and respects that too because he’d never ignore any boundaries you set.

Luis also loves to surprise you, be it with small gifts like your favorite flowers or date nights. To be honest, he just likes to show you off because to him, you’re absolutely perfect and he wants everyone to see how adorable and beautiful his partner is.

Jack Krauser

Krauser definitely isn’t someone to fall head over heels in love with someone or to dive head first into a relationship. It’s pretty hard to earn his respect and his trust, and on top of that, a part of him will always see loving someone as some kind of weakness. He’s also so used to being alone that he’s convinced he doesn’t need anyone else. So, you probably need a lot of patience, especially in the beginning of your relationship.

It’s pretty important that you don’t ask too many questions about his job or his past. Krauser is a man with many secrets, and he most likely won’t ever feel comfortable enough to share any of this with you, so it’s best to just accept that he doesn’t want to talk about it. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you but to him, it’s a fact that it’s best if you don’t know anything about these things – especially since it’s already risky to be in a relationship with him in the first place. (And though he might never admit it, he’d hate himself for letting anything happen to you.)

With that being said, there’s nothing Krauser wouldn’t do to keep you safe and sound. He knows first-hand how shitty the world can be, and should someone dare to lay a hand on you, he won’t hesitate to make them pay for it. Though he often acts like he doesn’t care about anyone else but himself, he fiercely protects those who are important to him, no ifs, no buts – and if it means that he has to put his own life at risk in the process, then so be it. I think he’d also offer to teach you some basic self-defense, just in case that you ever find yourself in a situation where these skills might come in handy.

He never lets his guard down completely, not even around you, and he’s not easy to love. However, that doesn’t mean he’s a bad partner or that he doesn’t care about you. Since he’s not overly affectionate (as in, he rarely initiates kisses or cuddles himself), he finds other ways to show how important you are to him, for example by making sure that you drink enough water or take your meds etc. He pays close attention to everything you do and therefore notices even the slightest changes in your behavior, so he immediately knows when something’s bothering you. And though Krauser is not be the best at comforting people, he still tries to cheer you up because he doesn’t like to see you all sad and gloomy.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it please consider reblogging, liking and/or leaving some feedback. I'd really appreciate the support! <3

#leon kennedy x reader #luis sera x reader #luis serra x reader #jack krauser x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil headcanons #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #luis serra x you #jack krauser x you #reader insert #gn!reader #gender neutral reader

645 notes · View notes

piratefalls · 5 months

Text

i'm incapable of keeping these short. it's my burden to bear. also, extra long and also early this week because next week is kind of up in the air.

list one. list two. list three. list four. list five. list six. list seven.

a hundred thrown-out speeches i almost said to you by ivysunna

Henry sinks down into his desk chair, groaning. “How could this happen to me? I meet the most beautiful, charming man to ever grace the earth, and he just happens to work for the store my company is planning to run out of business? In what universe is that fair?” “In none of them, darling,” Pez murmurs. “Did you tell him, by any chance?” “Of course not! What was I supposed to say: ‘Hi, I’d really like to take you out to dinner, and by the way, my family owns Mountchristen Books, the company currently running all small family-owned bookstores out of business? I hope that’s ok?’” “Maybe not in those exact terms…” “It’s doomed,” Henry moans, burying his face in his hands. “My relationship with Alex is ruined before it could even begin.”

Weighted by stripyjumpers

Alex gets Henry a very thoughtful birthday gift.

Minty Fresh by inexplicablymine

How do you ask someone you so ardently adore, to spend the rest of their life with you? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health. To ask a question. To ask the question. It’s the singular most defining moment of a relationship until the (hopefully inevitable) wedding bells. It’s defining, it’s definite, it’s dreadful.

What Forever Looks Like by politics_and_prose

The last thing he’s expecting once they’re home and settled in is Alex to say, “I think I’d want our kids to come by the shelter whenever they could.” Henry, completely caught off guard with a mouth full of pizza, asks, “Huh?”

just give me a minute by smc_27

Alex isn’t obsessed. He just thinks Henry is fucking beautiful and perfect and smart and so, so talented. He just thinks Henry’s fingers look gorgeous on his piano. He just thinks they like the same things and have similar opinions. And he just thinks if they could be in the same place at the same time, they might like, have something. Okay, he’s a little obsessed. Or: Alex is trying to be a GROUPIE here, but his kindness keeps getting in the way.

Ignite My Heart by absoluteaudacity

“So, I’m making you an account and we’re going to swipe right on some men and you can thank me later,” Pez says. -- The 'We met on Tinder' AU

i hit my peak at seven feet by HypnosTherapy

He told Phillip first. It was a tremendously stupid idea he can only excuse by the fact that he was thirteen at the time. He thought his brother might help him talk to their parents. He didn’t know how to articulate it feels like there are hands closing around my spine and twisting or sometimes my legs hurt so bad that walking feels like I’ve got glass buried in my feet. He trusted his brother, and even more than that he wanted the desultory and relentless agony to go away. Phillip didn’t tell their parents. He told their grandfather. --- Now that he’s taken a step back from public life, Henry can relax. Without constant pressure to stand up straight and smile through the pain, some cracks start appearing in his facade. Alex starts to notice. (AKA 3 times Henry dealt with chronic pain symptoms by himself + 1 time Alex was there to help.)

A Multitude of Instances by orphan_account

Henry’s taken notice of one of Alex’s verbal patterns.

A Stork Beneath London Bridge by MarvelMerlin

Henry was supposed to be enjoying his first fully American Thanksgiving, filled with first hand witnessing of the Turkey Horrors and strangely sweet vegetable dishes. But in a single whispered phrase the world turns immaterial, Alex is his only anchoring point, and the black suit carefully packed over every single trip is being laid out on the pretty pink bedspread.

Back, Bring it Back by @sparklepocalypse

Scowling, Alex closes the laptop and sits back in his chair in his guest suite at Buckingham Palace to rub his eyes beneath his glasses, then runs a hand through his gray-streaked curls. He’s the youngest American President since Obama, has helped usher in groundbreaking legislation protecting workers’ rights and shoring up long-outdated social justice policies, and has actually made headway on tax equity, and the instant he’s in London the entire focus is back on the worst day of his goddamn life. (A soulmate AU futurefic that pivots away from canon after Alex storms the castle, but aside from two tiny movie-specific details would work in both bookverse and movieverse.)

kiss it better by lem0nademouth

Alex had a long day. Henry is fine with making it a long night.

First Pillow Princess by lovelythething

While they had talked about spicing it up in the bedroom, it seemed despite being two guys who wanted to change the world, they easily slid into normalcy with each other. But they weren't in the bedroom. They were on a well-worn sofa, high on exhaustion, and blessedly all alone.

please don't ever become a stranger (whose laugh i could recognize anywhere) by coffeecatsme

Alex’s love language is physical touch. Henry knows this—has known it from the first moment he’s met Alex, all wild curls and bright eyes and a smile that could breathe life into Henry’s little, fragile life. He’d stuck out a hand at that first meeting, dejected when Henry didn’t even take it. Found a way to poke and prod Henry every single time they’d met after, sharp jabs hitting his shoulder and rough hits shoving him around. Now, Alex’s fingers are gentle as they lace around his. His arms hold him tight to his chest. His hair tickles the nape of Henry’s neck, and the couch is entirely too small for the two of them but Henry doesn’t have the heart to kick him out. Or, 5 times Alex clings tight to Henry and 1 time Henry finds out why.

Just come along, baby, take my hand by kiwiana

“Uh, yeah, because you put on a sex dungeon show.” “It’s not a sex dungeon show. She’s helping people prioritise their sex lives and make space for it, in whatever form they may want it. It’s reinforcing emotional connections.”

Lay All Your Love On Me by lucy_in_the_sky

A lot has changed for his and Henry’s public persona since the emails leaked. Gone are the days they could shamelessly flirt with teasing touches and love-sick stares across crowded ballrooms, back when the whole world wrote off their relationship as a “bromance for the ages” since obviously they’re both incredibly heterosexual and are simply the best of friends. Now, wary of all the eyes suddenly scrutinising their relationship, they’ve taken to spicing up their sex life in different ways to still feel the thrill of clandestine hookups in the middle of important events and public appearances. Hence the whole ‘Alex wearing a vibrating plug that Henry controls while at a public function’ thing. And Jesus fucking Christ, it’s the hottest thing that’s ever happened to him.

Closer To You by bibliosoph

Some sexy times! Thanks to Len for the prompt! Happy belated birthday, Beth! This terrible smut is for you!

Just Business by bleedingballroomfloor

“I just need you to know that this is strictly a business relationship.” Henry blinks. His brain is taking a minute to process everything — meeting Alex. Dozens of pictures lining his office walls, each featuring a different persona of his. Brochures upon brochures, prices upon prices. It’s a bit overwhelming. “You’re asking for a lot here,” Alex continues, “and that means we’ll be spending a lot of time together. A Golden Tux. You’re asking me to pull off a Golden Tux, Henry. But I need you to know that this is just business.” Henry knows he’s asking for a lot. A best man. A wedding party. Time with his family. He knows that this should only be about business. He knows. (He also knows that Alex is very, very attractive, and he knows that this will be a long four weeks with Alex.)

choke me like you hate me (but you love me) by anonymous

What’s left for them to do? Something slaps against the skin of his chest. Ah. A classic.

Really Fucking French by everwitch

Henry likes his men direct. It is, in part, why he so often indulges in setting his location on the apps to Paris — although the gratifying results he yields from that exercise are definitely partly down to a significant selection bias as well. But if Henry had never swiped on Parisian men, he'd never have connected with Antoine; dark curls and dimples and an absolutely lethal smile. Antoine is absolutely perfect. Too perfect. It's a pity that he must be a catfish. The man in Antoine's photos, however? He is very, very real. Or: the self-indulgent Paris romp we all need after this trying time.

from the mouths of babes by cricketnationrise

3 times Lina Claremont-Diaz-Fox didn't know what Henry does for a living and 1 time she absolutely does.

nobody panic, but i've broken my leg by annesbonny

He collects his phone from Cash who's been holding onto his possessions, and shoots off a text to the group chat between pained breaths. nobody panic, but i’ve broken my leg. Then he slips it away again before he can read June's outraged response. In which Alex Claremont Diaz breaks his leg at a charity Lacrosse game.

Subtle promises by viciouslyqueer

Alex breaks the kiss. His hand falls away. Henry blinks his eyes open, unsurprised. He’s panting, they both are, breathing heavily after kissing like they don’t need oxygen to live. Alex is watching him with flushed cheeks and red kissed lips, an unreadable look in his eyes. “Hey,” he says quietly. “Can we… Can we stop?” “Yeah,” Henry says immediately, anticipating the question. “Of course, love.” — In which Henry starts a conversation and Alex realizes he's loved no matter what.

Most People Exist by SprigsofViolets

Henry Fox is a nurse at the New York Cancer Center. He’s happy with his job, content enough with his life, but it all gets turned on its head when he connects with a patient with a brain tumor—Alex Claremont-Diaz. ——— Henry is a nurse, Alex is a patient, I suck at summaries.

Never a Guarantee by clottedcreamfudge

Henry – Prince Henry, third in line for the throne of Windsor and Alex's goddamn betrothed – has very soft hands. Alex knows this because he is literally holding them in his, both of them standing in front of just about everyone with a title in either of their two kingdoms, while a man in an extremely large hat has them repeat oaths and other things Alex has been learning by heart since he got engaged. * Looking back on their time at the altar, Alex should maybe have read a little more into the way Henry kissed him like it was the last time.

Boy, I Fancy You by allmylovesatonce

When Alex has a break off of work, he decides to get away and spend that time in London. On his first day there, he meets Henry and sparks immediately fly between them. As they spend the summer together, touring the city and enjoying each other, Alex continues to keep a very big secret about himself: who he really is.

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy by cmere

"Would now be the moment," Henry says, breath catching, "to tell you about a little fantasy I've had concerning you and horses?" Alex snickers. "Uh, I don't know, babe. If this is going the way it sounds, I'm not sure you should say anything you won't be able to take back." "Oh, Christ, shut it," Henry says, laughing, still not stopping the motions of his hand. "The horse aspect is nonsexual." "Okay, well in that case. Yes. Obviously." Alex grips his own thigh, refusing to give in and touch Henry, or himself. For now. As long as he can stand it. As it turns out, Alex isn't the only one who has a thing for his beloved on a horse. Henry's birthday seems like a good time to make use of that new information.

Tattoo Guns & Roses by schmulte

Henry comes to Austin to escape. When he opens a tattoo parlor across the way from a flower shop run by Alex, they learn to work together to protect their neighborhood and their hearts.

under the tuscan sun by stutteringpeach

The villa is, in a word, perfect. Set into the hillside and built in the classic Tuscan style, all brick and white-washed walls, with just one small bedroom and an en-suite upstairs, a cosy sitting room and a tiny kitchen downstairs. There’s a large table on the patio where Henry can already see himself drinking tea in the morning and writing late into the night. There’s even a pool. There is, however, one slight problem. There’s someone else here.

love me forever (fix me right) by sherryvalli

Alex has the perfect life. The perfect job, the perfect apartment, the perfect boyfriend. Everything’s perfect. He’s never been happier. Except for the fact that his boyfriend’s dad fucking hates him.

my eclipsed sun by weather_stained

“Alex, is there any way you can come? We’ve sent our security over, but if…if I’m right about what’s upset him, I have a feeling Henry’s not going to want to see anyone but you.” “I’m already booked on the next flight out.” Alex zips up his pack and slings it over one shoulder, keeping Bea held to his ear as he bounds down the stairs. Cash is waiting for him in the car, ready to chase Henry across the Atlantic for the second time in four years. It’s almost nostalgic—or it would be if he could stop shaking. After an important meeting with Mary, Henry is nowhere to be found. Alex drops everything to make sure he's safe.

tread softly (because you tread on my dreams) by helenblqckthorn

His stomach drops though when he realises he’s still hard. Shit. Think of Gran, think of very unattractive old lady wrinkles, think of England— Henry's point of view of the Red Room scene (or: the Hamilton portrait scene)

in time of daffodils by iphigenias

“Alright, alright, I get it. The solemn duty of academia calls.” Alex laughs as Henry play-shoves him, curling a hand protectively over the rim of his mug to stop it spilling. “So are you mine now?” “I’m always yours,” Henry answers, devastating and matter-of-fact, like he so often is. Alex hears himself make a groaning sort of sound before he’s putting his coffee down on the windowsill and climbing over the back of the sofa to get right on top of Henry, who laughs, muffled into Alex’s shoulder. “Careful with the—” Henry starts to say, but Alex’s knee has already nudged the laptop from the cushion to the carpet, where it lands with a dull thump. “Never mind,” Henry sighs, and the tail of the word catches into Alex’s mouth as he turns their bodies just so, so they’re kissing.

What to Wear by @whimsymanaged

Henry is going to a dress-up party but has nothing to wear.

How wonderful life is (while you're in the world) by mlvdybug

The corner of Henry’s mouth. It’s disappeared now, covered by the oxygen mask fixed securely around his head, but if Alex concentrates hard enough, he can see it sprawled out in front of him. Every ridge, every bend and edge and turn of it. He knows Henry’s heart. And that’ll be enough. (or: the one where henry gets shot and alex is a goddamn mess.)

Baby, it's Halloween and we can be anything by sheisraging

Alex is furious. More furious than he should be about the whole thing, but still. Plans were made. Money was spent. Costumes were purchased—not even rented—purchased!

you make it look so easy, i know it's not by anincompletelist

Bea’s to his left, speaking frantically on the phone with who Henry hopes is the fire brigade or someone else trained to deal with these— situations. In front of him, Pez is fumbling frustratedly with the water hose, showcasing his colorful vocabulary with a flourish of jerky hand movements and chaotic pacing. On either side of the fence, his neighbors are peaking over the sides to ask if everything’s okay, and Henry feels the resolution to make a good first impression crumbling and slipping rapidly out of his grasp. Even David watches on from inside the house, his sage eyes and patriotic bowtie appraising the scene and looking back to Henry as if to say I told you so. And the fryer — the fryer itself is up in flames, thick gray smoke swirling up into the air and soaring high above the tree line now. In the distance, the echo of sirens. Henry may faint right here, in the middle of his backyard at his new home before he's even unpacked, with all the neighbors and his family and friends watching on, on his first official American Thanksgiving. It is, by all means, not what he’d envisioned for the day.

'til the walls did crumble and by ninzied

So much for using the wrong fork at dinner. He’s pretty sure this is a thousand times worse. Hundred-thousand? Nora could give him the exact number. Also, he’s pretty sure there’s still buttercream on his ass. . Or, Alex has his bisexual awakening in a bathroom at Buckingham Palace, and also finds leftover cake in Henry’s hair. The two things are not not related.

Bisexual Disaster Alex Claremont-Diaz by TuppingLiberty

Five times Alex wears an amusing bi pride shirt to Brooklyn Pride, and one time both he and Henry do it.

Moon Bride (To Have and To Hold) by SatinBirds

When the man is brought before him, it’s as if the whole world stops. Clad in delicate gossamer, his apparent frailty is accentuated by the sheer fabric. It is likely a cheap attempt to entice him, yet it only elicits displeasure from the king. He already wishes to dress this fragile figure in the veil of his people, cover him from invidious and lustful eyes.

once, successfully by vibrantsaturn

ACD okay, so. full disclosure and just so you know, i'm not into men or anything HYou're literally on Grindr right now? ACD ok??? and i guess people who are lactose intolerant can't walk down the fucking dairy aisle, huh???? i'm just looking, man or, Grindr, once (un)successfully, etc., etc.

kiss me through the phone by violetbaudelairequagmire

[Unknown Number] *Attached image: a shirtless, tanned torso, cropped at the top of shoulders, holding up two brightly patterned ties* which 1? Excuse me? or, Alex accidentally texts the wrong number and then just never stops.

Risotto + Melanze + Dolce (a love story) by villiageidiot

Alex doesn’t necessarily need a job—a full course load (plus some) is more than enough to fill his time—but he hasn’t had much of a social life since starting law school, and his coffee habit could use a few extra dollars. When June tells him the restaurant is looking for help, particularly on their Thursday Spaghetti Special night, he halfheartedly agrees. Everything that happens thereafter is technically her fault, a fact he likes pointing out any time she tries to yell at him for something, like serving uncooked garlic bread, or accidentally making a grown man cry, or breaking public indecency laws. Or: Alex works at an Italian restaurant and is very bad at it. Henry is a customer and doesn’t seem to mind.

until next time! if you'd like to be tagged in future lists for whatever reason, let me know!

tagging: @starkfridays, @stilesgivesmefeels

#rwrb rec list #rwrb #red white and royal blue #firstprince #alex and henry #henry fox mountchristen windsor #alex claremont diaz #alex x henry #fic rec #rwrb fic rec #rwrb fanfiction

151 notes · View notes