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#the implications……i don’t even know where to start
comradekatara · 2 days
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The hate that aang gets in the fandom is, uniquely, buddhaphobic. Trying to point out to racist ATLA fans that the air nomad genocide is based directly off the very real tibetan genocide is beyond frustrating alone. Pointing out that aang and the avatar are based off the tulku system is a whole other thing too...
There's a really specific type of anti Asian racism that Buddhists and Buddhist themed characters get online. Which interprets Buddhists as backwards, misogynistic and stupid. Alot of the time also insisting they are being selfish or in some way malevolent.
I have no idea how to constructively word this beyond that aangs hate online is anti Asian and buddhaphobic.
right. the way people talk about aang, whether it’s to criticize or even simply trivialize his pacifism and other cultural values, to dismiss the effects of genocide, to joke about genocide (don’t even get me started on that one post that jokingly called aang a holocaust victim, as if that isn’t egregiously disrespectful to literally everyone implicated), or to otherwise mock or demonize him for displaying cultural values that do, in fact, have a very explicit real-world analogue is actually vile. aang may never actually say “im a buddhist” in the show, but it’s still evident to anyone with a brain. he also does call himself “a simple monk.” do they think he means christian monk??? are people just out here like “where’s his tonsure!!!!” because it’s incredibly obvious that aang’s genocide is meant to reflect the tibetan genocide; whether or not you think it’s handled well, that’s what it is. and people either don’t know, or don’t care. either way, i think people simply lack an understanding of how imperialism functions and the ideologies that underlie it, because if they did, they’d all be talking about this show very differently. but you’re right. even if people “only” hate aang because he “gets in the way” of the “most obvious” ship, they are nonetheless insistent on using post hoc justifications to rationalize why their critiques of aang are logical rather than a mere preference…by nonetheless demonstrating how their preferences are, in fact, deeply rooted in cultural bias and eminently disrespectful to his real world counterparts. because it’s not actually about shipping. when shipping becomes a platform through which to propagate culturally disrespectful notions steeped in colonial bias, it no longer matters which ship has more chemistry, but rather becomes yet another a vehicle through which the implementation of genuinely violent and harmful ideas is facilitated. and it’s sickening.
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hobbyistauthor · 3 days
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9 ▰▱▰▱ Take Me Home (Please Stay With Me) ▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱
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"came back wrong" post-s4 fanfiction, featuring monster kas!eddie. pre-steddie -> steddie
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minors DNI please, Steve has some S P I C Y thoughts, although nothing too explicit yet.
TW: References to period-typical homophobia, brief discussion of HIV/AIDS crisis.
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Part I ┊ Part II ┊ Part III ┊ Part IV ┊ Part V ┊ Part VI ┊ Part VII ┊ Part VIII ┊ Part IX (📍)
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Arlene grins at him, although her smile is painfully awkward and more like a grimace to Steve’s eyes.
“Guess I wasn't as clear as I thought I was.”
She steps towards him, holding her arms out in invitation. “Baby Bear, I'm so sorry, I completely misunderstood the subtext.” She apologizes and Steve's heart immediately starts to mend itself from the damage his knee-jerk fear at being outed caused, healing by the grace of the heartfelt nature of her words. The cracks that widened along the well-worn fault lines that spiderweb across the shattered patchwork remnants of his heart begin to fill in slowly, rebuilding yet again. He should have known, he should have never doubted his mom because she always has his back. He chokes down a relieved sob as all of the stress from the last few minutes comes crashing down on him with all of its immense weight, sending him stumbling into his mom’s open arms. He feels safe and warm, cradled in an embrace he’s missed terribly for the past three years. He immediately starts crying, the tears coming hot and fast down his cheeks and leaving salty streaks in their wake.
“Ohh, baby…” Arlene shushes him softly, rocking Steve gently side to side while she cards her fingers through his hair. He feels like a child again, comforted after falling and skinning his knee playing outside. He clutches to her harder, the catharsis too great to hold back as he gasps huge wet breaths in between his long bouts of sobbing, choking cries. He has no idea what she's doing here, back home in Hawkins when it looks less like a small town and more like a war zone, but he’s certainly not complaining about her presence. He’s missed her, and right now he's going to relish being close to his mom again for as long as she sticks around. He knows how busy she is, how important her new position at Ellsco is and he refuses to be the reason that gets jeopardized. Arlene smells like good wine and expensive cologne–not perfume, she’d never liked perfume–and Steve buries his face in the crook of her neck, sniffles at where she's warm and her pulse is strong. His fingers are fisted tightly in the fabric of her button-front, wrinkling the expensive fabric, but she doesn't even flinch. She’s always had her priorities in line, and laundry ranks far below her only son.
“I'm so sorry, honey,” she murmurs again, cradling the back of his head in her palm. “I know how dangerous the world is for people like me, and I should have known better than just making assumptions about who you’d told or hadn’t told about your presumed sexuality. What I said and the implications could have put you in danger were we around prying ears, even if you aren’t queer, because rumors are powerful things. Granted, I don’t think Eddie is the kind of person to think less of you if you were queer, if it's any consolation? I told him I was a lesbian and he didn’t really bat an eyelash, very respectful… I don't think Eddie will remember what I said, either? He's fairly blitzed...”
Steve laughs, the sound weak and wet from all his weeping. “N-no. It's okay,” he wants to reassure her, because honestly the fact that she’d wanted to goof around with him about it, wanted to normalize his queerness just like she would have done if he were feeling this way about a girl means more to him than words can say. She hadn’t done that out of malice, she knows how dangerous it is out there for people like them, knows she made a mistake by outing him–even if he technically hasn’t confirmed or denied it, yet–and apologized for it, too. Knowing that his mom is like him, like Robin, warms him from the inside out, igniting a bonfire in his chest and comforting him like the way it would dispel the chill of an autumn night. He thinks he might be ready to finally give voice to the words he’s never let himself say.
“I'm… I mean…”
“... Baby Bear?”
Steve takes a stuttering breath, trembling as his grip tightens on his mom’s shirt, “I… I'm not straight, mom.”
Arlene cards a hand gently through his hair, her other arm pulling tight across his shoulders with a comforting weight. He leans into her embrace, his eyes squeezing shut as his heartbeat races in his chest. He’s never said it out loud before; never actually voiced the truth to anyone besides himself in the safety of his own mind, well and truly alone with his thoughts. Hell, he's not even told Robin yet, although he's pretty sure she suspects, as if squinty eyed knowing looks she's been shooting him lately weren't telling enough. It’s not that he’s in any way ashamed to admit his bisexuality, but. It’s always felt like something he’s just not allowed to talk about? He’s not greedy, it’s not like being bisexual makes him more likely to cheat or anything–that’s horrible, and he refuses to ever cheat on anyone–but he likes both. He has a luxury in being able to choose to take the safe option; the path of least resistance. It’s not like he’s truly sacrificing because it’s not a lie, is it? He very well can fall in love with and have a perfectly fulfilling relationship with a woman–it doesn’t mean he doesn’t also find men attractive or that the potential to have the same type of relationship with a man is miraculously no longer there, but. He has the luxury of appearing straight-passing. Robin and people like her can never have that, the illusion of safety, without cutting away a part of themselves and pretending to be something they’re not. Forcing themselves into boxes that don’t fit for the sake of keeping themselves alive in a world that wishes them dead.
“Thank you for telling me,” mom’s voice is soft and gentle, soothing as she continues to hold him, “it’s very brave of you.”
He laughs, the sound wet and full of self-hatred, “Is it?” he scoffs.
Arlene pulls back from him, tenderly cupping his cheeks in her hands and looking Steve in the eyes, an intensity behind her long lashes. Her brows are furrowed and her lips are pursed, deep sorrow intermingling with the upset painted across her face.
“Stevie, of course it is. Coming out is terrifying, every time. It’s sometimes the hardest thing you may ever do in your life, because it’s voicing something so deeply personal to someone you hope you can trust. And sometimes,” her lips twitch into a bittersweet smile, “sometimes that trust is broken.”
Steve smiles back, wobbly and wet as he sniffles some tears away. He chuckles, relief washing over him as it actually starts to sink in that his mom is okay with him, that she’s not going to abandon him, that she believes him. It’s freeing and the tears stream down his cheeks anew, a sob wrenching its way out of his throat. Arlene shushes him, a broken worried sound, as her thumbs wipe away the salty streams as they tumble down his face. His sobs are half laughter, relief tangling up with the remnants of his anxiety, the internalized self-hatred he’s been working on sweeping away. Robin has talked about internalized homophobia before, and he’s more than aware he’s been working on his own since that day on the floor of the nasty Starcourt movie theater bathroom. Having his mother here, supporting him, loving him so earnestly, helps to rip it from where it stubbornly clings to the walls of Steve’s thoughts, and with every tear track she wipes away, he feels himself grow lighter.
“Mo- Momma Bear,” he warbles out, unable to stop his crying even as he smiles, “Momma, I’m bisexual.”
Arlene pauses in her earnest wiping of his tears, blinking at him. Slowly, and with the warmth of the sun rising above the horizon in the breaking of dawn, she smiles at him. Her eyes crinkle with how wide her lips pull, glistening with unshed tears of her own, sniffling as she just looks at him. He can see the pride in her eyes, the happiness in her smile. 
“Baby Bear,” she says, “I love you so, so much.”
“Love you too, Momma,” he murmurs, throwing himself back into her arms, squeezing tightly. She’s smaller than him now, and it catches him off guard a little. Arlene has always felt larger than life to Steve, the biggest person in the room every time, but now he stands slightly taller than her and broader than her in the shoulders and arms. She fits against him differently than she used to–it’s still a shelter, but the comfort shared feels equal in exchange.
“So,” Arlene asks, her face pressed against his shoulder, her arms tucked under his to rest against his shoulder blades, “when did you know, Stevie-bear? Last I’d heard from you it was all ladies all the time. What changed?”
He chuckles, pressing his nose into her hair where it’s started to come loose from its’ styling. “I’ve always known, I think. I started noticing boys the same time I noticed girls, but context cues from people around me made it obvious that boys didn’t talk about other boys like boys talked about girls.” He shrugs, inhaling the familiar simple scent of her expensive shampoo. “I actually thought everyone had the same thoughts as me, finding everyone pretty and just choosing not to acknowledge the other side of things until later on. I um. I met someone who’s gay, actually, and they kind of made me realize that my way of thinking wasn’t exactly straight.”
“Oh?”
“Mmhm,” Steve nods, carefully considering his next words to keep Robin’s identity to himself. His mom might also be a lesbian, but he would never out Robin, even to another queer person. He couldn’t betray her trust like that. “We were talking and I asked them to choose between two celebrities, which one they thought was hotter. They said neither, and I was so confused. I said, ‘not even like, objectively?’ and they were just so meh about the whole thing I really had to reevaluate my entire life, really.”
Arlene laughs along with Steve, and he presses his forehead against the curve of her shoulder. Sighing.
“We took a few trips up to Indy, and there’s a couple of bookshops up there that sell, um. Zines? And other queer literature? So I kind of, immersed myself in that, and I realized I was probably bisexual all along and just hadn’t understood that liking both was an option.”
“Mm, sexuality is a fascinating thing, isn’t it?”
Steve chuckles, pulling back from Arlene for a moment to look at his mom. She seems softer in the waning light of the kitchen, hair falling from its styling, her shirt rumpled–blazer long lost–and standing in her socks on the tile. He can feel the fondness in his own bearing, no doubt mirroring the expression she has on her face as she looks back at him. His dad used to complain about how similar he looks to his mom–how closely he took to the Ellsworth family genetics rather than the Harrington genes. Steve’s never been more grateful for that.
“I mean, learning about the Kinsey scale was pretty interesting,” he says, “I’m not a perfect 3 I don’t think,” he admits, shrugging. He’s definitely pickier about what men he’s attracted to than he is about what draws him to women. The basics are there–brown hair, doe eyes, intelligent, a little mean–but otherwise, it’s just easier with women. He doesn’t have preferences or anything beyond his four main attraction points, but men? Men have to be pretty in some way… something about them has to strike Steve in a way that makes him pause, consider, and think wow, he’s pretty, huh? If that thought doesn’t happen, there’s no attraction, it’s just another dude. 
“I think the number was um, a 2?” he taps his lips with a finger as he thinks, “Like, women are just easier for me to notice, because women, right?” He makes a curvy gesture with his hands while wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, making his mom snort a laugh, but she’s smiling and nodding so he continues. “But, like, objectively, I notice when dudes are hot. I mean, it doesn’t really do anything for me, I just notice.”
He licks his lips as his thoughts drift to one particular man. He feels hot where the blood flushes the skin of his neck, his mouth suddenly becoming dry as a desert. “But… sometimes a man just floors me with how pretty he is, you know?” He kind of hates how dreamy his voice gets by the end of his little monologue, how telling he’s being in the way he talks about a not-so-hypothetical man. 
“Well,” Arlene says, raising an eyebrow at Steve that makes him feel so seen, “I do not know, because I am a big ol’ Kinsey 6,” she smirks and Steve groans. “But! I understand what you mean,” she laughs at his disgruntled expression, and the sound is so fond and teasing that Steve can’t help his blush and shoves gently at his mom.
“Shut up, mom! Oh my god, why am I talking about this with you!?”
“Because I’m your mother and you missed me and I’m also gay as fuck, Stevie-bear! You know you’re safe talking about your boy-crushes with me, now,” she croons softly at him, clearly conscious of her volume as she leans into his space, grinning mischievously.
Steve rolls his eyes, but his smile gives away his happiness with the continued ease of their relationship. His mom relents, leaning back against the kitchen island and smoothly exiting Steve’s personal space.
“Not that I’m not glad to see you, Mom, but why are you here? Back in Hawkins?”
Arlene sighs, the sound heavy as though she’s carrying the weight of the world as she tilts her head backwards.
“I wanted to see you, Bear,” she admits, “and after the truly horrendous call I had with the financial advisor over the phone about how I wanted to adjust the terms of access for the trust,” she makes a face, sticking out her tongue and rolling her eyes, “I knew it would be simpler to come here myself and handle it in person. That it gave me an excuse to see you? A bonus that Charlene was all too willing to exploit to bully the rest of the board into getting me some well deserved R&R time.” 
Arlene preens a little, clearly delighted with the ingenuity of herself and Charlene–he’s glad that he knows how well his mom pays her, because honestly that woman has to be a saint to put up with the ridiculous energy and demands of his mother on a daily basis–she’s a tough business woman, and for good reason.
“You do work a lot, Mom,” Steve says, his smile going crooked with fondness at his mother’s dramatic flair, “I’m glad Charlene’s in your corner.”
“Mm, I’m going to make sure I can wrangle her up a good bonus again this year… or maybe a raise? The taxes they throw on bonuses are bullshit, anyway.”
“Definitely a raise, Mom.”
“I’ll do that, then, Stevie-bear. Thanks for your input,” she waves him closer and he goes easily, bending forward when she beckons, receiving a smacking forehead kiss for his obedience. It fills his heart with warmth and he realizes his smile has yet to fade. They stand together in comfortable silence in their kitchen for a long moment, just existing in each other’s space. It’s both strange and welcoming, a reminder of something he’s not thought he’d have again. Just being with his mom makes Steve feel safe, but it’s been such a long time, it’s foreign even through the oddly nostalgic tingle that dances across his skin.
“So,” Arlene finally breaks the silence, “can you explain to me what exactly is going on with Eddie?”
“I–”
“Look, Stevie,” she sighs, “you know I’m not judging you in the slightest, right? I just feel like I need a better grasp on the situation. I mean, I walked into my own home to the guy perched on my countertops eating fucking Spaghetti-Os over the sink and looking like some sort of fantasy monster out of one of Le Guin’s novels. I need a little more context than the vague garbage excuses Owens and Stinson spouted at me.”
Steve raises an eyebrow, surprised she even knows anything, “Um, yeah, about that–how–?”
“Ellsco works with government contracts, and that requires me to have certain levels of clearance regarding confidential matters,” Arlene replies, a smug eyebrow raise punctuating her statement, “So needless to say, they learned quickly that they couldn’t shut me out. Not when Ellsco is as intertwined and as important to their work as we are.”
“Mom,” Steve breathes, “you didn’t!”
“You bet your ass I did!” she scoffs, “What, you think I wouldn’t threaten to pull funding for their weird little projects entirely once I found out my son was involved in something they fucked up?! And they thought they could just not tell me?”
“Oh my g–” Steve cackles, “Jesus Christ, you’re such a fucking badass, holy shit!”
“Praise me all you want, Bear, but that’s not getting you out of explaining what the hell is up with the claws and the ears and fangs and the tail.”
“He’s got wings too, actually.”
“No shit?”
“No shit.” He nods, “They’re small enough he can hide ‘em under his shirts now, if they’re baggy enough, but yeah.”
“Huh.” Arlene blinks slowly before she tosses her head slightly, as though she’s forcibly shaking herself out of her thoughts, “No distracting me, Bear. How did he get like that? Is it because of the, eh, what did they call it… Upside Down? The thing that caused the earthquakes and the weird cracks in the ground?”
“Kind of. It’s… it’s a really long story,” Steve sighs, raking his hand through his hair, “can… can we go sit down for this?”
“Jesus,” Arlene mutters, a concerned expression crossing her face, “how long is long, baby? You need to sit down to tell it?”
“Um.” 
“Baby Bear…”
“It’s been going on since ‘83.”
“Are you fucking–goddamn ‘83?!”
Steve cringes and shrugs, “I–I mean, y-yeah?”
Arlene pinches the bridge of her nose, “Shit. I might pull funding out of spite anyway, Jesus fucking Christ. And let me guess,” she spits, “you’ve been involved the whole goddamn time?”
“Uh–”
“Nope, no, Stevie-bear, that was rhetorical, you’re my kid, of course you were fucking involved. You’re too kind to not want to help, even if it was terrifying…”
“Um–”
“Did the fucking government just leave it all in the hands of fucking children?!”
“I mean, Ms. Byers and Hop were there the whole time–”
“Ms. Byers? Hop?” Arlene squints at Steve briefly, before she shakes her head, “Joyce and Jim? You’re telling me they were the only adults who knew about this?”
“I mean, yeah?” he shrugs, “It was mostly me, Nance, Jon, and later on, Rob? Oh, and the kids I told you about? The ones I babysit? And Ms. Byers and Hop were the adults in the know. We’ve kinda’ been like, the first line of defense, you know?”
Arlene looks distraught the more he talks, and Steve feels guilty for making his mom upset. He’d hoped he would have made her feel better, knowing he’s had adults on their side at least, but somehow he thinks he’s made it worse.
“Good God, baby…” she sounds winded, “how–how have you not called me for help sooner?”
“You’ve been busy, Mom,” he shrugs, “I’m okay, and you’ve got your own life. I don’t want to bother you with the trivial stuff.”
“None of that is trivial!”
He flinches.
“Baby!” He blinks in shock as warm palms fit smoothly around his cheeks, staring into his mom’s desperate teary eyes, “baby, nothing I do is more important than you, especially not if you need help.”
“I–”
“There’s nothing I can do about it now, it’s too little too late, but, please, Baby Bear,” she pleads with him, a frantic tone in her voice, “tell me next time, never assume it’s trivial, because I promise you, it isn’t.”
Unbidden, Steve feels tears well up again. He hasn’t cried this much since he was a kid, but he supposes it’s fitting now that his mom is back, bringing with her that feeling of safety he’d thought had vanished along with the warmth of his childhood summers in Italy.
“Okay,” he warbles, “O- Okay, momma, I promise.”
“Good,” she nods her head once, a jerky, emotional motion before gingerly focusing her attention on wiping the stray tears from Steve’s cheeks.
“C- Can we go sit now? If you still want to know about everything?”
“Yeah, Stevie-bear.” Arlene steps back away from him, her hands slipping from his face to his shoulders, sliding down his arms slowly, soothingly. Her delicate, manicured fingers gently encircle his wrists, holding him so softly with just the slightest pressure against the beat of his pulse. He smiles at her, feeling the way it wobbles on his lips in time with the tumultuous emotions roiling in his gut. She returns it in kind and together they head back into the living room, hand in hand. 
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Steve is half expecting Eds to be waiting for them like an eager puppy, all bright eyed and bushy tailed, but they aren’t greeted by his enthusiasm at all. Steve’s anxiety rises immediately and he darts away from his mom, bee-lining to the couch since that was the last place he saw Eddie. His heart calms when his eyes settle on the form of his sweetheart, curled around the blanket he snuggles under with Steve most nights, his nose buried in the folds and making soft huffing breaths in his sleep. Steve deflates, leaning heavily against the couch as the relief washes over him. He’s helpless to resist the urge that rises, reaching out and running his fingers through the beautiful boy’s hair, pushing it out of his face and tracing the shell of his long, tapered ear as he tucks the dark curls behind it. He knows how soft his expression must be, glad that his back is to his mom, because he doesn’t think he can stand her teasing right now. Eddie purrs quietly in his sleep, pressing into Steve’s touch and it pulls him back to reality. He straightens, turning back to Arlene. 
“Um, I’m going to sit here,” he tells her, aware his face is completely giving him away, but determined to not let it bother him. He squares his shoulders.
Arlene simply smiles warmly at him, pushing the armchair closer to the couch and settling into it, tucking her legs underneath her as she waits for him to get himself situated.
Steve exhales, looking down at the sweet, half-monster curled so cutely on the couch. He makes a quick decision and prays his mom won’t razz him too much for it.
He sits on the middle cushion, pulling one of the decorative pillows up against his side as a bolster before reaching over towards Eddie. Gently, he hauls the larger beastie towards him, eliciting some quiet grumbles but once Eds seems to understand that Steve’s thighs are to become his new pillow, Eds quiets quickly, purring loudly in pleasure and snuggling in, rolling over and pressing his face against Steve’s stomach. Steve sinks one hand into Eds’ hair, the other falling between his shoulder blades, skirting around the edges of where he knows Eddie’s wings lay flat against his back. He runs his fingers through dark curls, scraping blunt nails across his sweetheart’s scalp while Steve’s other hand rubs tender circles of delicate pressure against the knobs of Eddie’s spine through the yellow sweater he’s stolen from Steve’s closet. The purring sound increases in volume, the weight of his sweetheart doubling across his lap as the beastie goes boneless from Steve’s attention. 
“He’s very telling, isn’t he?”
“No,” Steve sighs, “he’s just affectionate, I think.”
Arlene scrunches her brow, “Really? Stevie–”
“Eddie died, mom.”
The sharp inhale he hears makes him squeeze his eyes shut as old pain rises to the surface. He hates thinking about it, but it’s the reality. Eddie is like this because he’d died in the Upside Down, and they’d–he’d–left Eddie there to rot.
“We… Spring Break,” Steve chokes out, “was the most recent incident. A- A girl was killed in front of him, mom. He- He had no idea about any of it before then, you know? He’d just run this dorky little nerd game club that the boys I babysit for are nutso about, and he was- he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I think he was trying to help her, really. Wrong way to help her, with drugs, but I mean, his heart was in the right place.”
Steve chuckles, tugging a little on Eds’ curls and pulling a soft whine from his throat, the sound smothered in the fabric of Steve’s shirt. He barely catches it, but the vibration against his stomach makes him shiver with want. He stuffs it down, because now isn’t the time for those kinds of thoughts, but he logs it in his memory for later.
“Anyway, she- she died really awfully, mom. Like, body-horror awful. He ran, and I don’t blame him. It made it look like he’d killed her, though, which fucking blows. Hop and the government spooks are working on clearing his name, but we don’t know how long that’s going to take. Anyway… turns out what killed this girl in his home in front of him is tied to the shit that’s been happening since ‘83. We all got roped in, and well… in the end, we had to uh, split the party. He went with Dustin–” he looks up at his mom, brow furrowed, “I’ve told you about Dustin, right?”
Arlene smiles at him, eyes soft and incredibly sad through all the fondness scrawled across every inch of her face.
“Yeah, Stevie-bear,” she says, kindly, “you have. You said he’s like the little brother you always wish you’d had, even if he has… Oh, what did you say? Ah, right,” she chuckles, “the biggest ego you’ve ever seen.”
Steve snorts, “Y- Yeah, that’s Dusty, alright. Um, yeah. So… Eddie went with Dust, they were the distraction, cause there were these other things that uhhh–basically they were trying to block us from stopping the evil guy who we’d been calling Vecna or One… and they did, but something went wrong. So to protect Dustin, he–”
Steve chokes on his emotions, fear and nausea rising in his throat as memories of finding Dustin wailing over Eddie’s corpse bombard his mind, filling him with grief all over again. He has to focus on not hyperventilating because fuck, Eddie’s right here, in his lap, breathing and alive–changed but alive–and while he’d left Eddie behind, Steve had gone back, he’d gotten Eds out of there, he’d gotten Eddie out of Hell. He exhales, shaking.
“To protect Dustin, he made the sacrifice play… and he’d not made it.”
“Oh, Stevie…”
He feels the tears spilling, can hear the agony in his mom’s voice, the empathy in her tone, sympathy oozing on every word. He sniffles, roughly wiping his face with the back of his hand, laughing humorlessly as the tears continue to burble down his cheeks, fat and unrelenting.
“I- I’d had to drag Dust off of him… off his corpse, mom. He- He was kicking and screaming, his ankle was broken, and he didn’t care, he just–” Steve chokes on another sob, “–he just wanted Eddie to be alive, and there I was, dragging him away from- from one of the only other older male figures in his life. And- And I had to leave his body there to rot.”
Arlene is on her feet between one heartbeat and the next, falling onto the cushion beside Steve and wrapping her arms around his shoulders, holding him tightly and rocking them gently back and forth. He sobs.
“I- I had to leave him behind, mom!”
“Shh, Stevie, shhhh…” she soothes, her voice broken and threaded with sadness, “it sounds like you didn’t have a choice, baby, you’re just one man.”
“I- I should have tried harder, mom! I should never have left him there!”
“Oh, baby… oh my Baby Bear, no…” Arlene chokes out, her arms trembling where they clutch tight around him, “It’s not your fault, and I guarantee Eddie would tell you the exact same thing if he was awake right now.”
Steve breaks.
He falls apart, crumbling into his mom’s embrace as she holds him, quietly murmuring wordless comfort. The weight of Eddie’s body across his lap is grounding, and it keeps him from completely disconnecting from reality as he weeps, clutching Arlene’s button front so hard he’s almost afraid he might tear holes into the fabric. His mom’s fingers thread into the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck, stroking with firm passes that make him go boneless with a pained whine, his face sticky with salt from all the tears he’s cried as he buries it in his mom’s shoulder. He feels a tight pressure around his waist, and he lifts his head from where he’s had it smashed against Arlene’s body, looking down to see that Eddie has wound one of his arms around Steve, snuggling in close and deepening his sub-vocal purring noises to the point that Steve can feel the vibrations strongly through his skin.
“I had a lot of time to get to know Eddie today, Stevie.”
Steve lifts his gaze, turning swollen, teary eyes to his mother’s face. She looks determined, a stubborn set to her jaw that makes Steve sit up and listen, because for all that his mother is playful and kind, she’s also fierce and refuses to not be taken seriously when the situation calls for it. 
“Not a single thing that he told me has led me to believe that he would for a single second allow you to go on thinking that his death was in any way your fault.”
“But–”
“Nor would he allow you to beat yourself up for leaving him behind. I’m certain that he understands that you had to decide between a corpse and a living person–between his dead body and Dustin, who if I’m not mistaken, you both adore–which he would agree is a no-brainer decision, Stevie.”
“I–”
“Steve.”
He swallows, blinking away the remnants of tears at the fierce tone in his mom’s voice.
“Eddie is a kind boy. He would hate that you’re beating yourself up like this. And he’s back now, isn’t he? If I know you,” she says, raising an eyebrow, “and I like to think that I do, you probably went back for him, didn’t you?”
Speechless, all Steve can do is nod. Arlene sighs, hanging her head.
“Steve,” she says on an exhale, “that decision alone is… it’s amazing, incredibly kind and thoughtful. You went back to collect a body, I’m assuming, to bring closure to a mourning family and to a boy you love like a little brother. How am I doing so far?”
“P- Pretty good, actually,” he chuckles humorlessly.
Arlene hums, “Figured. So when you went back, what did you find?”
Steve takes a deep breath, collecting himself. She’s amazing at this, refocusing the conversations when they deviate off the ideal pathways. It’s something that makes her an excellent businesswoman–distracting anecdotes don’t work on her.
“Um. He wasn’t human anymore. Eds was… he was basically a feral monster. But- But I took a risk, and it… it worked. He recognized me, and um. I think he imprinted on me or something?”
“Oh?”
“Y- Yeah, he got, uhh. Really affectionate? Um, didn’t want to part from me, liked to be touching all the time, very protective.”
“Animalistic, would you say?”
“Y-Yeah, that’s a good way to put it, I guess.” Steve agrees, nodding, “He seemed to run almost exclusively off of like, instinct or something, and it wasn’t human instinct. Whatever happened to him down there, it mutated him into whatever he is now.”
His mom’s face twists slightly in a disagreeing expression, “He’s not that mutated, Stevie. A little different maybe, with the ears and tail and claws, but it’s not completely inexplicable or unable to be concealed.”
“It was… it was worse, before.”
“What do you mean, worse?”
Steve exhales, dropping his gaze back down to the sleeping sweetheart sprawled across his lap. His fingers tighten in their hold within dark curls, pulling a thick, needy sound from Eds’ throat that’s thankfully muffled into Steve’s shirt. 
“I mean… it was more obvious that he wasn’t–isn’t–human anymore, mom. He didn’t look even remotely human when we found him. He walked on four legs, his face was more bat-like than human… hell, you’ve seen how big he is. I thought he was going to kill me at first, but…”
“But he didn’t.”
Steve shakes his head, a melancholic smile tugging the corner of his lips upwards, “Like I said, he recognized me, or something, and bonded with me somehow. The affectionate nature just… never left, and he’s been really tactile ever since.”
“So, if he was more–” Arlene’s words are cut off by the dinging of a timer. He looks in tandem with her to glance through the doorway into the kitchen, before returning his gaze back to her face.
“... are you cooking something, mom?”
“Ah, shit,” she says, clapping her hands on her thighs and standing with a quiet grunt, “Yeah, I was. I was actually teaching your boy there the patented Chiara family bolognese before we started drinking.” 
Steve’s heart flutters wildly in his chest, because that’s…
“Mom…”
She smiles at him, a knowing look in her blue-green eyes as she raises an eyebrow at him, “Stevie, the poor thing was eating Spaghetti-Os. What kind of Italian-American would I be if I didn’t offer to feed him?”
“Fair point,” he laughs quietly, resuming his petting through Eddie’s soft curls, looking down at the boy in his lap, “but you… you were teaching him..?”
Arlene shrugs, “I just get the feeling that this one wants to stick around, Baby Bear,” she says as she turns and walks away to the kitchen, no doubt to check on the bolognese. 
Steve chews on his lower lip after she leaves the living room, wishing horribly that he knew what the two of them had talked about while he was at work, or what his mom had seen in Eddie that makes her so sure of him. The Chiara family recipes are a closely guarded secret, and he knows how tightly she holds them, how fiercely she protects them. That she was so willing to share the family recipes with Eddie, it seems impossible. She’s said before that she would share them with his future wife, but he’s definitely not made a marriage announcement. (Although it’s not like his overly-romantic hard-and-fast heart hasn’t imagined it already… Maybe she’s considering it good-as, because technically actual marriage is illegal for people like them–like mom and himself?) Steve shakes his head and waits for his mom to come back, focusing on the happy rumbles coming from the sleeping beast in his lap.
Arlene saunters back into the living room five minutes later, smelling of delicious meat sauce and humming with satisfaction. She settles back into her armchair and smiles at Steve.
“So. Where were we?”
“Uhhh,” he blinks, “we were talking about how I found Eds in the Upside Down.”
“Right,” she nods, “you said he bonded with you, or something of that nature and became affectionate and tactile, and that hasn’t faded.”
“Yeah.”
“You mentioned that he was… hmm.” Arlene trails off, her brows furrowed as she clearly searches for the right word, “Monstrous when you found him, correct?”
“Mmhm, yeah. He didn’t even really look human, his hair was more of a mane and his face wasn’t even remotely human-shaped, he kinda had a bat-like smushed nose. And like, two sets of ears? Giant talons and huge wings, his tail was even way longer and stronger too.”
Arlene squints, “So then, how exactly did he start to look more… human?”
Steve smiles, “That was all Dustin.”
“Oh? You let Dustin see him?”
“Of course I did. I knew he would be safe, Eds loves Dust just as much as I do. Plus, he did really well with Wayne so it seemed perfectly alright to let the little shithead come over… besides, I didn’t really want to let him go on hurting and mourning Eddie’s death if he didn’t have to, you know? It really messed him up, mom. I hated seeing him like that… it was like he’d lost a huge part of himself, and here I had a way to help him heal from that wound.”
His mom’s eyes are soft, her lips pulled into a gentle smile that’s dripping with love and Steve squirms under the weight of her gaze, heat rising up his neck and making his cheeks blotchy with embarrassment.
“A- Anyway,” he stutters, “Dust figured out he’s some strange variation on a vampire, and so we tried feeding him blood to test the theory. It worked, and so since then I’ve been feeding him my blood, which has been helping him regain a more human appearance.”
“Your blood?”
“It’s not very much! I don’t even get, like, dizzy after he feeds!” Steve raises the hand that’s not buried in Eds’ hair, waving it frantically, “It’s barely even like donating blood–I don’t think he takes anywhere near a pint every time he feeds.”
“Okay… and you’re being safe, right?”
“Mom, this… this isn’t like The Crisis, okay?” he whispers, “And even if it was, I’m not stupid enough to take any chances with my own health or his, I promise.”
“Ellsco headquarters might be in Boston, but I’ve already watched a few of my friends just… disappear, and I’d…” Arlene squares her shoulders, “I would hate to watch my son fade away like that. I just want you to be safe, okay? Do you know… do you know how to go and get tested, Bear?”
He nods, “I- I read about it in a zine I got from Indy.”
Arlene nods once, decisive, “I’ll go with you, if you want to get it done while I’m here.”
Steve smiles at her, wobbly and grateful, “Okay, mom. That’s weird, getting tested with your mom, but… I’m grateful.”
“We can make a day of it,” she says, waving a hand and settling back in her armchair, “get some breakfast somewhere, get the testing–I should get my testing updated, too, honestly–and then just shop around and enjoy ourselves!”
“Ah–but, what about Eds?” Steve bites his lip and looks down at the sleeping boy, “I don’t think I’d be able to just… leave him behind all day to go have fun without him.”
“Hm,” Arlene hums, “well, we can wait a bit, of course. Oh!” her eyes brighten as a devious smirk spreads across her face. Steve’s heart races in his chest as his nerves blare alarm bells in his head.
“Mom… what are you…”
“I bet I could just con Owens into doing it for us.”
“MOM!”
“What? The asshole owes me.” She scoffs and tosses her head, a childish pout on her lips, “He tried to keep me from my own son, what absolute gall.”
Steve snorts, “Okay, okay. Alright, mom.”
“Plus, wouldn’t it be better for Eddie’s blood to remain with someone we have leverage with, rather than some random lab people who might report any abnormalities?”
“Wait–you’re including Eds in our weird little mother-son testing day? Mom!”
She shrugs, “Well, isn’t it better for you to know now? I mean, if you two are gonna be–”
“SHHH! MOM!!” he whisper shrieks at her, his face flaming.
“What?” she blinks, false innocence across her face as her lips threaten to break into a cheesing grin, “He’s asleep, he’s not listening.”
“Jesus H. Christ, you can’t just say that!! Besides,” he grumbles, “just because I like him doesn’t necessarily mean that he likes me, even if he has been really tactile and affectionate, okay?”
Steve hears the sound of skin slapping against skin and he looks up at his mom, brows furrowing at the sight of her with her hand pressed over her face. She groans, the sound pained and he wonders if she just smacked herself in the forehead or something, which is pretty unlike her.
“Uhh, mom? …You okay?”
“Peachy,” she grouses out. “Stevie-bear, light of my life; I adore you, but sometimes I want to shake you until your head flies off.”
“Um.”
Arlene peels her hand away from her face, leveling Steve with the flattest look he’s ever seen her shoot him before. She heaves a great sigh, shaking her head.
“You’re pretty convinced he’s not interested in you like that then, Stevie?”
“I mean…” he swallows, his blotchy blush filling in further as more heat floods his face, “I would be really happy if he were interested, but… I don’t, um. I don’t think he is? He’s been physically affectionate, but from what I’ve heard from Wayne, I don’t think he’s like us.”
She arches an eyebrow, “You know sexuality is fluid, so why are you being so rigid with him? Who’s to say that he couldn’t be interested in you?”
Steve chews on his lower lip, fidgeting with his handful of Eddie’s curls, “You’re… you’re not wrong, I guess. But, it sort of feels like I’m forcing my feelings on him when I think about it like that, you know?”
“Not really, Stevie.”
He huffs, a puff of air blowing stray bangs back off his forehead. “It’s like I’m taking what I want to see in him and forcing it to be the truth, even if it’s really not, confusing my own desires with what’s actually there.”
“Mixing fantasy and reality?”
He snaps, pointing at his mom as she puts words to his thoughts. “Yes! That!”
Arlene sighs, “I suppose I can understand falling for the straight person. It’s definitely happened before, and I’ve only seen you two interact very briefly, but…” she trails off, lips pursed and brow furrowed. Steve watches his mom carefully. It’s telling how selective she’s being in choosing her words, it’s obvious she thinks she knows something, and again he wonders just what she and Eds talked about while he was at work. 
“I mean, you saw us interact while Eds was drunk, mom.”
She waves him off, “In vino veritas, Stevie.”
He rolls his eyes at her and waits for her to finally come up with what she wants to say.
“I don’t think it’s as far from reality as you think it may be.” She says quietly, fixing him with a serious look, “He clearly adores you, and the way he spoke about you when we were talking felt like it went beyond just friendship to me.”
Steve’s heart stutters in his chest, that tiny flame of hope sputtering and sparking where he’s kept it safe behind his ribs.
“I don’t think it would be completely far-fetched to maybe consider testing those waters a bit more, Stevie. If you really like him the way I think you do,” she raises an eyebrow as his blush darkens, “then you should maybe show him more. Turn up the charm, give him more of a taste of what you have to offer.”
“I–”
“Steve, Eddie is a sweet boy.” She says this as a statement, like she knows it’s a fact, and it soothes something deep in his brain–some anxious doubt lurking around at the edges and making him feel off kilter. With the easing of it, the ground beneath his feet is no longer lurching, suddenly stabilized and solid once again. 
“I spoke to him a lot today and I can confidently say that you wouldn’t lose him if you were to admit any feelings. Or if that’s too much too fast for you, just being more obvious about how you feel about him wouldn’t end with him outright rejecting those advances. Hell, you might be surprised.”
“But…”
“Stevie,” Arlene interrupts him, leaning forward in her seat, “you should just do what you want, okay? Just, treat him like you would if he was just one of the girls you dated before.”
“He’s so much more than them, though…”
“Then show him that, Stevie.”
He swallows, nerves alight with possibilities as that tiny flame grows just a little stronger where it remains safe in his heart. Hope bubbles in his chest, feeding it steadily as he contemplates what his mom has just told him. She’s more experienced in this sort of thing than him, he has to admit–queer romance is out of his wheelhouse, as this is his first actual attempt. And he’s terrified still, but there’s a thrill that runs through his veins now that wasn’t there before, beating in tandem with the pulse of the flickering flame behind its ivory cage. 
“You- You really think I should? That I- That I have a chance?”
“I do, Baby Bear. I really, really do.” She says, a smile spreading across her face, “I just want to see you happy, and it’s so obvious how happy he makes you, even now.”
“Thanks, mom.”
“Any time, baby. I love you.”
“I love you too, momma.”
Arlene flops back in the armchair, gusting out a breath, “Lord almighty, I am emotionally drained right now, you take years off my gay little life, Stevie, I swear.”
“H- Hey!”
She cackles, an ugly braying donkey laugh that makes Steve warm with nostalgia. He joins in after a moment, his own burbling chuckles spilling out of his lungs. It’s nice, sitting with his mom and his sweetheart in the living room, just spending time together. The two of them chat quietly, Steve stroking Eds’ hair as he finally fills her in on what has happened in Hawkins since ‘83. A lot of what he tells Arlene upsets her, but she takes it all in and handles the shock well. She migrates over to the couch from the armchair somewhere in the middle of his retelling of the events at Starcourt, and holds his hand tightly as he talks, his voice shaking. By the end of the events of Spring Break and what he knows about the whole Russian rescue mission and the California crew’s cross country adventure, she’s holding him tightly. She solemnly promises to be more involved in his life from now on and he pretends not to notice the way her tears soak the shoulder of his shirt or the way she has to forcibly collect herself afterwards. 
Arlene transitions their discussion fluidly into an easy chat after she’s finished asking questions about the Upside Down and all the crazy shit tied to it, keeping the discussion mundane as she fills him in on some of the upcoming projects Ellsco has taken on. A lot of her work is confidential, but not all of it is as the Fortune 500 company has its fingers in lots of pies–she relishes in telling him about a few passion projects that haven’t required her to sign a thousand and one NDAs. She tells him how Gramma and Grampy are doing, how Grampy is enjoying his partial retirement now that she’s taken over. She also mentions reconnecting with his uncle Ben–Steve would swear his mom had a sister, not a brother, but he’s probably just remembering wrong–and how they’d met up on one of her business trips to Miami a few years ago by chance. It’s wonderful. Steve finds himself relaxing as they converse easily back and forth, sharing the parts of their lives they’ve missed over the past few years.
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Steve is alone in the living room again, Arlene having just gone into the kitchen to check on the bolognese a final time, enjoying the quiet as he cards his fingers through dark curls, lightly dragging his nails against the skin of Eddie’s scalp in the tranquil atmosphere. He feels the body laid across his lap begin to stir after a time and he casts his gaze down to the boy he’s been playing pillow for, a smile tugging at his lips.
“Mmn–” Eds grumbles, his voice heavy with sleep as his strong arms squeeze around Steve’s middle, “–S’vie?”
“Good morning, lazybones,” Steve murmurs in reply, chuckling. “You awake now?”
Eddie blinks open bleary hickory eyes, drowsy and clouded as he turns his gaze up at Steve; twisting from the prone position he’s adopted, splayed across Steve’s thighs. His jaw cracks in a wide yawn that exposes his sharp fangs and long tongue before he buries his face against Steve’s stomach again, humming happily.
“M’wake,” Eddie mumbles, “y’r warm…”
“I’m warm?” Steve snickers, tugging gently on a small handful of curls in his amusement. The action pulls a thick sound from Eds’ throat, yanking at a burning thread of desire deep in Steve’s core that he steadfastly ignores in favor of releasing his hold on Eddie’s hair. “I’m flattered, but you’ve been sleeping for a few hours now and dinner is going to be ready soon. Aren’t you hungry yet?”
The face Eddie makes in response is cute; all pouty and crinkled in his disapproval. He’s clearly not in favor of moving off of Steve. “I’m–”
The sudden rumbling of Eds’ stomach cuts him off, the sound well timed and harmonizing with the gurgling of Steve’s own stomach when it makes itself known moments later. Eddie jolts away from Steve’s body, the dramatic reaction pulling a laugh from Steve. The embarrassment that scrawls its way across Eds’ face is plain to see in the pink flush that colors his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, reaching even the tips of his pointed ears. It’s unbearably cute–he wants to nip at them.
“I… I guess I’m kinda hungry,” he admits, shyly looking away from Steve.
“Hm,” Steve drawls, smiling fondly at his sweetheart, “I mean, I’m pretty hungry too. Mom told me you helped her make the sauce, so I guess I’m pretty excited to see how it turned out. Especially since you had a hand in it.”
That pretty pink flush goes darker to Steve’s delight, and he eagerly watches as Eddie fidgets in place, absurdly pleased that he doesn’t try to move out of Steve’s space. He loves how close they are, all pressed together like this. He’s starved for touch, and Eds’ is his favorite of all. It always feels like a dream and sometimes he has to remind himself that no, it’s reality. He’s just this lucky. 
“Arlene did most of the wo- work,” Eddie mumbles, “I just th- threw stuff in the pot and st- stirred it sometimes.”
“That’s still helping, silly.” Steve chastises kindly, “It counts.”
Eds looks up at him with huge hickory eyes, sparkling and wide, gleaming with hope. “It… does?”
“Mmhm,” Steve nods, unable to contain his fondness–all the love he has for this boy. He can feel the way it colors his smile, the way it pulls at the edges of his eyes, the way his shoulders slope in Eds’ direction like he can’t bear to turn away from him. He thinks about what his mom said about him, how she doesn’t think he would lose Eddie if he confessed… how she thinks he could easily get away with upping the ante, so to speak. He chews the inside of his cheek, excited anxiety brewing in his gut at the thought of turning up the charm–of wooing the man he wants, the way he wants to.
There’s a lot that could go wrong if he did decide to really start turning on the charm with Eds. So far, he’s just tried to- to be nice… to be kind to him; to be a safe harbor when Eds feels anxious, and a place he knows he can come to rest his head when the world feels too big, too mean, or just too much. Nothing he’s done so far falls within the typical big displays of romance, but that’s okay because it’s the tiny acts of devotion that Steve loves best. He loves being able to do things for his partners, to show them how much he adores them, how often they cross his mind. He does things for them without a second thought because he wants to make their life easier, he wants to ease whatever burdens them if only for a short while–he wants to integrate himself into their life in any way he can, even if that means he’s only there in the capacity as a meat shield or a workhorse. If he can make himself useful, helpful, to them… that’s enough for him. 
He always wants to do more, of course. He wants to pamper, to take care of them, but he’s been accused more than once of being overbearing; of being needy–of being clingy. He smothers those urges as best he can, because he’s learned that it’s not what most people want from him. Does he hope that one day he’ll find someone who will indulge him in those urges? Yes, of course. But he’s aware it’s far fetched and selfish. But with Eddie it’s so hard… with Eddie, he’s greedy. He wants all of it–he wants to wash his hair, wants to cook his lunches, his dinners. He wants to hold him in his arms on the couch and watch bad TV until he falls asleep, and wants to make him feel safe when he wakes from nightmares of monochrome skies and unfriendly landscapes. He wants to take care of him, to help him regain his human appearance so he has a chance to return to society, a chance to be himself amongst other people again. He wants to see Eddie spread his metaphorical wings again, prance on the cafeteria tables of the world and take them all by storm–he’s a force of nature and to see such a beautiful creature caged and forced behind closed doors is a tragedy he refuses to see play out any longer than it has to. He will not clip those metaphorical wings, no matter how badly he wants Eddie to stay with him.
What’s the saying? If you love it, let it go?
He’ll just have to hope Eddie will want to return to him when his shackles are finally shattered.
Take a chance, hope that his mom is right. The risk is worth the reward, after all.
Steve smiles down at Eddie, finally releases the tenuous hold on his control. He feels it when his smile easily slides into a far more flirtatious territory than he’s previously allowed it to venture with Eds; a smile he’s only ever used on women he’s wanted to date before now. He gently grasps Eddie’s chin, the firm grip pulling a stuttering breath around fangs and from between plush, parted lips as Steve lifts his half-monster’s jaw to force their eyes to meet. He watches with a hungry gaze as hickory eyes widen, as he leans in closer until his nose just barely brushes against his sweetheart’s. He can feel the way Eds’ breath quickens; hot against his cheek, ghosting against his own mouth. It’s tantalizing, but he can be patient… it will be worth the wait. Steve knows how to play this back-and-forth game of seduction and desire, and he’s going to play it right with Eddie. He’s a clumsy flirt in front of other people and cheesy beyond belief, but sometimes he hits the correct notes and he thinks he’s got Eddie’s number right.
“It does count, sweetheart,” he rumbles out, his voice heavy and deep with desire. “Did you know,” he adds, conversationally, like their proximity isn’t boiling the blood in his veins with want, “that no one aside from my mom or my Gramma has ever cooked for me, before?”
“N- No- No one?” Eddie breathes out, his voice no louder than a whisper as he stumbles over his words. Steve relishes in the way his inhuman pupils have dilated, the way his breathing has gone ragged, heavy in the meager space between them. Steve licks his lips, immediately clocking the way Eddie’s gaze locks onto and tracks the path his tongue takes with something like wildness behind those dark, hickory eyes.
“No one,” he replies, his lips just barely brushing against Eddie’s cheek as he speaks. He can feel the way the skin of his neck tightens while Eddie swallows; hears the clicking sound his throat makes at the action. Steve feels alive in a way he hasn’t in a long time. He’s forgotten how fun it is to flirt when he really wants someone–when there isn’t an audience to make him embarrassed about the corny lines he tends to spew.
“You’re my first, Eds.”
He pulls away from Eddie after his statement, doing his best to hide how affected he is by the starstruck look on his half-monster’s face. Steve feels like he could fly because holy shit, mom was right? The way Eddie sits there, eyes wide and dark, breathing raggedly with the prettiest of blushes coloring his skin from the tips of his pointed ears all the way down his throat to where his collar bones disappear into the collar of that stolen sweater. The delicate color highlighting the planes of his skin is… it’s gorgeous, and Steve wants to sink his teeth into the curve of his neck, wants to bite and leave marks along the angles of his jaw. Eddie looks dazed, one clawed hand clutching at his chest, rising and falling rapidly beneath it as he stares at Steve with glossy, wet eyes like he’s seeing him anew; a deity made flesh, something to worship in reality. His lips are still parted, plush and glistening–begging to be kissed, and it takes all of his willpower to resist, but somehow, miraculously, he manages. Eddie looks like a dream, a temptation demanding to be ravished, and ohhh, how Steve wants.
Instead, he gets up off the couch.
He relishes in the keening whine that tears out of Eds’ throat as he steps away, putting more distance between them, allows himself to delight in the surge of pride that swirls in his gut as Eddie sways unbidden in his direction, instinctively trying to close the distance without realizing he’s even doing it. He can’t help the smug way his flirtatious smirk pulls up on one side at the way Eds’ hand flexes on nothing, desperate to touch that which Steve has taken away. Seeing all of it painted in technicolor before him is the greatest gift he could receive and he feels settled–assured that he’s making the right calls. Because, yeah. Yes, he’s absolutely going to take this leap of faith. 
Eddie is worth the fear, the unknown, the potential loss. He’s worth everything.
And so far, it’s looking like his mom was right in that he’s playing a winning game.
He’s got nothing to lose, but everything to gain.
“Well?” he says, raising an eyebrow at Eddie and making a “come hither” gesture with his index finger, “Are you gonna come with me, eat the dinner that you made? Or are you going to languish alone on the couch all night?”
Eddie shakes his head frantically, a squeaking sound tumbling from his mouth as he all but throws himself off the couch and stumbles to his feet. He’s all baby-deer legs and Bambi-eyes as he scrambles to get to Steve’s side; all flailing limbs and pinwheeling tail, desperately trying to counter balance his lurching weight. Steve starts walking backwards towards the door to the kitchen, never taking his eyes off his awkward sweetheart. He lets Eddie get close, lets him think he’s won, lets him think he’s caught Steve–but it’s a ruse and Steve swiftly slips out of reach. It’s a fun little game, and he enjoys the tiny noises of frustration that slip from Eds’ throat when Steve manages to just evade a grasping claw, keeping barely out of Eddie’s range as they slowly make their way towards the kitchen.
When his ankle catches on something on the ground Steve’s eyes widen, his heart lurching in his chest with momentary panic. He pauses, looking down to spot the stray blanket that somehow managed to make its way into the pathway to the kitchen. He jerks his gaze back to Eddie when he feels a strong, talon-tipped hand grip his shirt. The sudden impact throws him off balance, and with the way the blanket hooks around his ankle, he flings his arms out in an attempt to steady himself. He ends up digging his fingers into the meat of Eddie’s arms, but his body’s momentum seems to have caught them both off guard because the next thing he knows, he’s hitting the ground–although the ground feels softer than he remembers?
He blinks open eyes he doesn’t remember closing, staring down at the dazed, flushed face of his half-monster. Those huge eyes are hooded and dark, as his breath comes hot and panting. His talon-tipped hands clench where they rest against Steve’s sides, just above his hips, and one talon has slipped beneath Steve’s shirt, grazing the skin of his flank. 
Oh.
Steve flushes, because fuck Eddie looks delicious like this and how they got there is… he must have spun them mid fall to take the impact, since he’s so much larger than Steve is. Bigger and yet so… so submissive, so docile, so sweet.
Shit, that’s really hot… and also stupidly precious.
Eddie stares up at him, blinking hazy hickory eyes, and Steve finally realizes how close their faces are. His breath shudders in his lungs, because oh god, he wants to take Eddie apart, to hear him whine and cry and fall to pieces beneath him–
“Wow. Either you’re the fastest moving guy on the planet, or you’re just some sort of klutzy flirting savant, Bear.”
The sudden, amused comment delivered with such dry humor yanks a surprised yelp from Steve. He jolts upright as his most-hated blotchy blush spreads across his face and down his chest, and he glares at his mom where she leans with her arms crossed against the door frame to the kitchen. She looks smug, tapping the wooden spoon she holds in one hand absently against one arm, a “told-you-so” expression smeared across her face.
“Mom!” he barks, embarrassment oozing from every pore. He’s about to yell at her to go away, but he snaps his mouth shut when he clocks the quiet, pathetic mewling that’s coming from Eddie. The sound sends a rush of molten heat down his spine and Steve jerks his head downward, his gaze locking onto the boy he has pinned under him. His eyes widen at the absolute vision beneath him, greedily taking in the way Eddie’s chest is heaving, a furious flush coloring his cheeks and throat, his head tossed to the side. His hands have dropped from Steve’s hips to the carpet–one is clenched between his fangs in a meager attempt to muffle his noises. Only then does he finally notice the way his thigh is pressed hard against the zipper of Eddie’s jeans, and–
Ohhhh. He’s–
Fuck.
Steve swallows and slowly pulls his leg away, a muffled, gasping whine tumbling from around the finger in Eds’ teeth, between his parted lips, soft but not silent. Steve can see the way those denim-clad thighs tremble, the way the claws of his other hand sink into the carpet pile, skin across his knuckles taut and locked with tension. And… And Steve did that to him… just by—
—Jesus H. Christ, that’s so fucking hot I’m going to die and my mother is right there goddamnit—
“Mom… we’ll be there in a few, okay?”
“Okay,” she drawls, amusement in her tone, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Oh my– fucking, shoo, woman!”
Cackling, Arlene retreats into the kitchen. “Spaghetti’s almost done, better hurry up!”
“Okay, mom! Jesus!”
Steve sits back on his heels, giving Eddie some space to calm down as he drops his head into his hands, completely embarrassed at being caught in such a compromising position by his mother. He groans to himself, because goddamnit, everything had been going so well up until then, too! He hadn’t made a fool of himself yet, his flirting was going great! He’s a cheesy, corny dork, but it’d been working! Playful, fun… and then he’d had to go and trip over a fucking blanket like a dumbass–
“Steve..?”
He jolts upright, staring at Eddie with wide eyes. “You okay?” he immediately asks, chewing his lower lip. He’s honestly more concerned about whether or not he crossed a line with the whole… knee-to-dick-accidental-frottage than anything else.
Eddie blinks at him, clearly stunned, before a shy smile spreads across his face along with the darkening of his delicately-pink blush. He tugs a chunk of his curls in front of his mouth, averting his gaze as he pulls his shoulders up. “I- I’m okay. A- Are you hurt?”
“No, no, Eds! Not at all, thanks to you catching me like that…”
Eddie preens a little, shifting in place as his flush darkens further, “Couldn’t let you get hurt…”
“Well, I don’t want you to get hurt, either. Okay?”
Eddie nods, “M’okay. Promise.”
“Good.” Steve nods back decisively before chuckling. “Well, now that we’ve both embarrassed ourselves in front of my mother, ready to go get bullied by her while we eat delicious food?”
Eddie’s grin is wide, exposing all his fangs in all their glory as he nods. “Yes!”
Steve stands up and extends a hand down to Eds with a smile. “Well, then what are we waiting for?”
Eddie takes his hand, his grin softening as he looks up at Steve with a tender affection that makes the little flame behind Steve’s ribs grow just a little bit more.
Yeah…
Steve thinks to himself later, his heart full to bursting as he watches his mom and the man he hopes to build something with interact like they’re already family.
…the risk will definitely be worth the reward.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained. 
I’d be a fool not to try.
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GO STEVIE!!! YOU GO GET YO MANS!!!!
hello everyone i am deceased, my ghost is writing this.
fucking hELL these past checks calendar NINE days have been actual literal nightmare fuel jesus h christ on a fucking unicycle i would like to sleep for a thousand years now please and thank you.
anyway! this ended up being uhhhhh. longer than i predicted. but hopefully that makes up for the wait. we're gonna get into some more meat of this bad boy in the next installment i think, but we'll see if it doesn't run away from me hahaha
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the support banners (and the content warning banners) are from here! they're beautiful, aren’t they? So in love with them. cafekitsune has made some gorgeous stuff. please check them out if you're a creator!
----------------------------------- THE PERMA-TAG LIST ----------------------------------- @almondflavoredbookworm @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @brainsteddielyrotted @cashewnutofdoom @child-of-cthulhu @croatoan-like-its-hot @dame-zoom-a-lot @dauntlessdiva @ellietheasexylibrarian @estrellami-1 @eyesofshinigami @goodolefashionedloverboi @gregre369 @grimmfitzz @gutterflower77 @himbosandhardwear @hippieg1rl420 @hornybunnybaby @insteviewetrust @kacatshi @kingelyx @lawrencebshoggoth @lunabyrd @matchingbatbites @me-and-my-sloth @moltenchocolatelavacake @monsterloverforhire @mugloversonly @numinosmoon @obliosworld @ohmeg @panicatthediaz @pansexuality-activated @prazinos @queenie-ofthe-void @rainyefflorescence @sani-86 @sergeisilence @simplebtromance @snarkfamily @steddieinthesun @steddielations @steddieonbigboy @steddiewithachance @vacantwatchers @waelkyring @warlordess @y4r3luv The perma-list on the main post is full! But don’t worry, you can still ask to be tagged!  Your name will just end up in the replies, rather than the main post. I won’t forget you, I had to make a spreadsheet to keep track of all of you, which is fucking wild to me but i’m so goddamn flustered and blushy and skfnalsghaso about it so it’s whatever i guess.
I also have a list of folks who didn’t ask specifically to be tagged for future installments, but have been extremely enthusiastic about the story from the beginning based on their reblogs and/or replies to the posts. So if you’re on that list, unless you tell me otherwise, I'll continue putting your name in the replies. You can also follow the story tag, which is #Take Me Home steddie fic where you might find my posted sneak peeks or wip updates in between the actual parts, or you can even just follow me, @hobbyistauthor for all my nonsense!
If you don’t want to be tagged or want to be taken off the tag list for any reason, just let me know either in the replies or via DM. I don't bite much.
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findyourlovely · 2 days
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Lots of speculation on when these two fell in love in the original timeline— here’s my personal head canon:
Michonne falls for Rick when he kills the claimers. I always felt like this was true and when Danai confirmed it I just knew I could trust their vision with the new spinoff. I started shipping Richonne together in the “must’ve been something else” era but I wasn’t actually expecting AMC to have the balls to follow through. but Michonne’s “you’re okay because I’m okay” moment sparked the hope that this relationship was really happening, just off the symbolism of what this moment meant for her.
She’s never felt like she had someone who could step up to protect her but Rick fully proves himself in that episode. That is a man who would do anythinggggg to protect his family. She doesn’t judge him, she understands he did what was necessary. And after the way she lost Andre, she could never trust her heart to a man unless he had that level of grit to protect his own.
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I think she’s consciously aware of her love for him as they entered those gates at Alexandria. She doesn’t tend to initiate physical contact with Rick, but this moment with him and the kids in the car is an exception. This is her recognizing exactly how hard this journey has been for Rick and she knows that he did it anyway. For her. He lets her lead him into the future and she’s starting to wonder if it could be one where maybe they build something together for real(it’s already real she’s literally a mother to his kids and his closest confidant and he stares at her ass at every opportunity).
Ricks shenanigans with Jessie set things back but I still think she already knew her own feelings. It’s just not something she would let herself really think about until they’re in a stable place.
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I think for Rick, he starts to fall in love with her after she tracks them back in S4. I don’t think he knows it yet but the way he slid down that door in happiness cannot ever be anything but loverboy behavior. This man is elated to see her and 100% would have been okay just staying holed up in that house indefinitely. She makes Carl laugh. And the next day he straight up asks her to commit to coparenting with him, so clearly Rick isn’t trying to risk a separation ever again. Michonne’s presence restores his hope. And he loves watching her sweet relationship with Carl.
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Rick consciously understands the depth of his feelings for her outside those gates of Alexandria(or in the moments leading up to it). Because that man would have never walked into that community if not for Michonne’s sake(not even mentioning the 100 mile march to get there). He knows that well enough to tell her so! And now he tells her he’s struggling with how “the rules keep changing” in part because he knows she’s the one he wants to let in, and the implications of pursuing that are monumental for him and his kids. Who else matters enough for this much self reflection?
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Ofc we have to wait for Rick to deal with his PTSD rebound first, but the foundation is right here. These two were already it for each other, they just needed to feel safe enough to lean into it.
Y’all let me know if your timeline is any different.
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9r4v3y4rd · 2 years
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sweet-as-an-angel · 10 months
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Miguel w/an Innocent S/O
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Warnings: Protective Miguel, Slight Yandere Miguel (if you squint), Implications of Smut, Fluff, More Fluff, Spooning, Mentions/Implications of injuries, Insecurity, No Pronouns used for Reader Except 'You'.
Him being fiercely protective of you 24/7.
If someone even so much as looks at you wrong, he stares them down until they either break down and start apologising, or their heart gives out.
You’re the only person he shows any affection to. You’re also the only person allowed to touch him. Period.
He’s so touch starved; please hold him and tell him he’s your big guy :-(
Goes FERAL when you rake your fingers through his hair; his eyes roll into his skull and he can’t help but moan a little, even if the context isn’t sexual.
Don’t bring it up or he’ll punish you for it later 👀.
He finds your innocence both endearing and worrying.
On one hand, you believe in the good of everyone, which, considering how insecure Miguel can be, is what initially drew him to you; your ability to empathise and sympathise with others, to not judge them.
However, he knows people would take advantage of your kind and giving nature.
One time, he found out that one of the Spiders – a Victorian England era ‘gentleman superhero’ – had tossed you a used coffee cup and told you to dispose of it on his behalf. When you tried to say something, to tell him you were busy and had better things to do, he just dismissed you.
Of course, Miguel had seen this. He has eyes on you every second of the day.
You never saw that Spiderman again. Nor did anyone else. All that seemed to remain of him was his suit thrown haphazardly into the storage room, where a great big tear edged with blood was ripped into the chestpiece, the hero’s signature top hat abandoned and crumpled beneath it.
He also broke another Spider-Person’s arm when they tried to steal one of the fairy cakes you’d lovingly baked for him; poured your heart and soul into.
Miguel also growls at people he thinks are looking at you strangely. Full-on bares his fangs like a rabid dog and watches them cower.
He purposely grows his fangs out and lets you play with them.
He’s careful to make sure you don’t get hurt, though, guiding your hands away from the pointed tips.
His guilty pleasure is when you kiss his fangs and tell him he’s “The coolest, most handsome man in the world!”
“Just the world?” He says, smiling, raising an eyebrow. His heart melts in his chest as your smile widens, eclipsing your eyes into crescents.
“In ALL the worlds!” You say, throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him, laughing. He brings his arms, thick and muscular, around your waist and pulls you into him, pressing ticklish kisses into your neck, revelling in your laughter.
Intimacy-wise, Miguel is horrified at the prospect of hurting you.
He’s ever so careful, as if handling glass, holding back his strength.
It’s worth it, though. The strain.
Especially when he hears you mewl and try to hide your face in his chest.
“Oh no, Sweetheart,” he says, tangling a hand in your hair and pulling your head back. His pointed fangs flint as he gives a smile. “I want to watch you like this.”
Loves your gentle kisses – they give him life.
Nothing can get him down when you’re around; especially when you’re sitting in his lap.
Though, issues have arisen as a result of your oblivion to…compromising positions.
More often than not, Miguel’s had to bite his lip and tongue when you shift in his lap, catching him, making his heart start and his breath shutter, electric anticipation jolting through him.
He takes you aside in the bathroom to deal with the issue you’ve unknowingly caused, but you don’t complain. Not that you can with your mouth full.
He looks at you with eyes which have seen the deaths of countless individuals, yet when he finds yours, he sees love and light spanning infinite universes within them. And they give him hope that there is more to life than loss and grief; more to him than his failures.
He revels in the feeling of you hiding behind him whenever you’re scared.
Sometimes he takes you to areas of the facility where he knows you’ll be easily frightened – for example, where captive villains are held – so he can feel your hands tightening around his arm or gripping the back of his suit. It makes him feel useful, like he can take on the world.
And he gets off on being the only person who can truly protect you. But he’d never tell you that, of course.
Loves demonstrating his strength around you. He can pick you up single-handedly and carry you anywhere without so much as thinking of breaking a sweat.
He prefers to be the big spoon, curling around you like a shield and protecting you from the outside world, his warm, broad chest to your back.
Tells you how much he loves you through hushed post-intimacy whispers and soft touches. Shows it through acts of service and the insurmountable adoration that fills his eyes whenever you’re around.
He can’t imagine being with anybody else. He can’t even remember the last time he felt anything save for contempt before you showed up.
And he’ll do whatever it takes to protect you. No cost is too great for the love of his life <3.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterpost
Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3
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gojonanami · 4 months
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"IF YOU WANT, I CAN COME INSIDE?" - SATORU GOJO
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✴︎ summary: nobara spots gojo with a sorcerer she's never seen before and of course hijinks ensue. aka hearing gojo's english va (kaiji tang) say the above line in apothecary diaries and i lost my mind. ✴︎ contents: just fluff, gojo being a dumbass, lots of playful knocking gojo down a peg, nobara being an absolute menace, innuendo, implication of sex ✴︎ wc: 713
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NK: get over here now. [sends GPS location]
MF: Why? 
NK: don’t question it. Just get over here.
YI: on our way. 
“What is this—“ and Nobara pulls them back, shushing them, as they hide behind the side of one of the residential suites of Jujutsu Tech, designated for staff or visiting sorcerers, “Kugisaki—“ 
“Look at who that idiot is talking with—“ 
“Wow, she’s hot — who’s that?” Yuji blinks, tilting his head, “is she Gojo-sensei’s—“ 
“Can’t be she’s out of his league—“ Nobara scoffs, still peeking out, “do either of you know—“ 
Megumi answers, saying your name, “she’s a sorcerer - she’s been away on an overseas mission for a bit,” he shrugs at their curiosity, “I’ve worked with her before — I think that’s where she stays usually when she’s at Jujutsu Tech,” 
“She must be pretty strong then, I think the only other person who I know who went overseas for a mission was Gojo-sensei,” Yuji scratches his head, squinting his eyes and straining to hear, “what are they talking about?” 
“C’mon, one kiss?” Satoru pouts, his arms crossed to stop himself from reaching out, “it’s been so long and I can’t even touch you,” 
“Your students are watching us — you’re the one who didn’t bother to tell them you’re married,” you chuckle, shaking your head, “is this how you want to introduce me?” 
And he’s leaning even closer, smirking, warm breath against your ear, “if you want, I can come inside,” and you flush at his inneundo, gaping at him, before you shove him playfully, but he catches you by the wrist, pulling you closer. 
“Toru—“ and he presses his lips to yours, smiling, as you melt into his touch. 
“Let them watch, I need to welcome my wife back,” and he’s kissing you more insistently, arms sliding behind you to press you to him, your palm resting against his chest.
“EHHHHH?” Yuji and Nobara watch, jaws on the ground, as Megumi plugs his ears, shaking his head. 
“Can you two be any louder?” He grumbles, as you and Gojo turn to look at them. 
“Megumi!” You grin, walking over, “it’s good to see you — how are the boys?” 
He cracks a small smile, “The demon dogs are fine — they liked the treats you got them, thank you,” the two of you talk as Gojo makes his way over as well, hands behind his head as Nobara and Yuji stare at him. 
“How do you know her so well?” Yuji points at Megumi. 
“Well, her and Gojo kinda helped look after me,” he looks away crossing his arms, as you hide your smile — poorly, as given by Megumi’s slight glare.
“Hey what’s the deal?” Nobara glares, still focused on Gojo, “how’d you bag her? Did you lie? Did you suddenly grow a personality? Did you bribe her?” 
Gojo scoffs, laughing, head thrown back, “I just won her over with my infinite charm, of course!” 
“Wore me down is more like it, Toru,” you elbow him lightly, “wore me down to the point that I’d marry him,” you roll your eyes, as the pair of students stare at you. 
“YOU’RE MARRIED?” they shout at Gojo, pointing, who only rubs the back of his head, smiling. 
“Did I…forget to mention that?” He tugs his chain out from under his uniform, a platinum ring attached to it, “I don’t wear my ring because I don’t want it getting messed up from my cursed energy,” 
The three of them start bickering as you and Megumi stand, watching, “so this is what it’s like when you’re with them, huh?” 
Megumi sighs, “Pretty much,” and you give a soft smile. 
“No wonder you’ve seemed happier lately,” you give a small laugh at his bewildered expression before Satoru is wrapping his arms around you. 
“Sweetheart, my students are being so mean to me,” and you scoff, rubbing his head. 
“I’m 100% sure you deserve it,” and he’s pouting again, but leans into his touch, “come on, let’s have dinner together,” you grab his arm, “It was nice to meet you guys. Let me know if Satoru ever gives you any trouble.” 
“Huh? I’m not trouble,” he grumbles, as you kiss his cheek, before he’s leaning close again, lips brushing against your ear, “can I make good on my offer now?” 
“…after dinner.”
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✴︎ a/n: just a short little thing i wrote before i post on friday :). could not resist writing this quick little thing last night before bed :).
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iicarused · 2 months
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##come back to me
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ex!vox x reader / alastor x reader (in reality he stole vox’s bitch)
part i
synopsis: you’re getting tired of the radio demon
beware: heavy yandere aspects, heavy obsession, implications of manipulation, reader just not having a break
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whenever he looked at you, gazed upon your form, they were always so gentle. the embodiment of love and infatuation were behind them, as he wouldn’t be able to hide it even if he tried.
alastor won’t lie, he first started talking with you out of spite from his rival. you were in a vulnerable state at the time, and my, did you spill most of vox’s secrets behind closed doors! alastor came to you just to talk heavy shit about vox in hindsight.
although, it would be a lie if he said he wasn’t catching a genuine interest in your own stories and interests. it took time but he did fall for the aspect that you are one of a kind: little did he know, you came from the era of his circle. it was like it was meant to be.
“my dear, if you do not want to deal with a rodent like him, give me the word and he will be gone.” “don’t you lift your pretty finger, i will take care of him.” “you’re so cute when you try and take control — we both know he will not listen to your word — it’ll just make him more starved.” this is where you began to hear vox behind his words
they’re were laced and very similar. the contrast was that alastor seemed more confident in his words, almost like he expected you to listen to his statements when there wasn’t a choice. at first, you didn’t want to believe it. the radio demon was far different from the man you called an ex
just like last time, you felt suffocated in your own space. you felt small, but this time you caught the signs before it could go any further. alastor didn’t appreciate that, especially since you took the lead more often.
you had to take a break, just a simple break, even for an hour. you wanted to get as far as you possibly could from that demon for even a fragment of time. husk caught a glimpse of you leaving on a dark night, but he only nodded at you before continuing on with his task.
getting away from one demon was one thing, hiding from two was another. you were fully aware that alastor would know of your absence soon enough, as that cannibal never seemed to sleep. although, you could only stay out of the streets for so long in hopes that vox hadn’t noticed.
you found yourself straying into a bar, for the bouncer happened to be an old friend to let you in even when the place was at max. in the far corner of the building where a busted light hung over your head, never to be replaced or fixed since months ago. your gaze fixated on the shitty drink some guy handed you in the crowd, and it was evidently spiked from how it fizzed.
“and i thought that wretched hotel was your haven.” your gaze picked up to find vox standing over you. he picked at his sleeve. “seat taken?”
too exhausted to care, you beckoned for him to take the seat. “not like today could get any worse.” you pushed your drink to the side, raising a hand before he could speak. “don’t begin on your excuses, not tonight.”
“sweet hells, what happened to you?” oh, how you missed the gentleness of his voice. you missed the way how he gazed at you at this very moment — it was specific and genuine — you never fell out of love with him. just… distanced yourself from it. “i swear to fuck if it’s that demon, i will—“
“vox, it’s fine.” your hand came over his. “it’s whatever, not like you could just get in that hotel without getting tossed across the pentagram.”
those heart pupils that adorned his eyes finally shown, and that’s when you remembered why you had to get away from him. “sweetheart, i don’t understand why you won’t come back to me — come back home where i know you’re safe and well.”
it’s almost like a sixth sense to know that the answer you’re about to give him will result in a temper tantrum. so you decided against it. “i have to go.”
“y/n, please, this is the only time we get to talk, don’t go! i promise to make it better, i—“
he lost you in the crowd.
returning back to the hotel at the dawn of a new day was almost a mistake. a hand came to pinch the bridge of your nose the moment alastor came to your side.
to your surprise, he didn’t ask a thousand questions. instead, he went on with hoping your night out went well and to alert him next time. though, there was a hint of something else behind his tone you couldn’t figure out.
just like any other day, you both gardened the plants that are scattered along the building. making breakfast that involves fresh meat and a fine cup of tea.
is it too late to add that you’re getting used to this? it’s suffocating, yes, but alastor seems to make it more bearable.
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hazelfoureyes · 1 month
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The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice (part two)
This is part two! Here is part one. I lied, there is a bit of smut! Oopsie daisy. Inspired by @moonmark98 ‘s story idea of reader trying to forget Alastor and failing. I hadn’t planned a second part initially so I hope you like it 🥺
⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣
You return to earth and spend a year trying to crawl out from under the memory of Alastor. When an employee tells you a terrible past trauma, you end up right back where you started.
<Tags/Warnings/Promises: Alastor x reader, light smut, not as explicit as part one, masturbation, implied childhood trauma, justified homicide regarding said implication, stabbing, death, a realistic description of my former job, gerbil slander, your bitch aunt Sara, hiking as a hobby, guns, shooting, choking, florida weather, mentions of the 2021 Loo Loo Land fire>
minors DNI
“Ooh my, this is highly unusual. Charlie is right, you really shouldn’t be here.” Stolas fretted over you. “Uuunfortunately I don’t have my book at this particular moment however I can just snag it from Blitzy and be back soon.”
“What’s a blitzy?” Angel looked around the room to no one in particular.
“What isn’t he?” Stolas cooed. 
“Wait a minute!” Husk snapped his fingers, “Is that the imp who burned down loo loo land?”
“The very one!”
“He also takes hits out on people on earth, doesn’t he?” Husk gave Stolas a sideways look. Alastor hummed in acknowledgment.
“Ah haha yes” Nervously chuckling, Stolas scratched at the feathers behind his neck, “Anywho! I’ll return shortly and get you back where you belong, little one.” He flashed his kind smile to you before bowing to Charlie and portaling out of the room. 
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Charlie sat beside you on the edge of the bed. You’d been escorted immediately to an empty room upon arrival, sat down while the core staff of the hotel flitted about wildly upon hearing Angel’s recounting of events.
“You smell dirty”, the tiny maid cackled and ran to you before being lifted by her apron by Husk. 
“That is a”, you rubbed your wrists nervously, “complicated question…”
“There’s nowhere safer in all of hell than this room. With Vaggie and me and Alastor”, Charlie brought her hands to her mouth, “or— not Alas- I mean” She looked at Vaggie, “What do I mean??”
“Nothing and no one will lay a finger on you here.” Vaggie was staring at Alastor when she said it.
“I don’t think its fingers anyone’s worried about”, Angel shifted his gaze from Alastor to you and back.  
Alastor turned his head  slowly to meet Angel’s eyes, “Did you say something, Angel Dust?”
He shook his head and quickly left, Niffty and Husk in tow.
“I think you should leave, too.” Vaggie crossed her arms.
Alastor replied by taking a step closer to you, gesturing with his microphone, “I don’t see what all the fuss is about. She is safe and sound, barely a bruise on her.” He looked over you, the side of your face still slightly pink from the way you hit the ground hardly an hour ago. He could hear your body sliding across the wooden cabin floor still, what a strangely exciting noise. What else could he drag you across? What surfaces could he slide your over? What noises would they make? What noises would you make?
“You took her fucking soul, Alastor. In a coerced deal!”
“If I remember correctly, that is exactly what I had been asked to do.” He grinned, taking his monocle off and cleaning it on his sleeve. Vaggie looked to Charlie, who shrunk from her horrified face. “Plus, she’s still alive. Who knows if the deal even counts. I’ve never made one with a living person.” With an exaggerated shrug, Alastor took a seat on the sofa opposite the bed, legs crossed. “Either way, she isn’t anywhere near Val anymore.” His eyes met yours, for the first time since… 
You looked away. He wanted to grab your chin and force you to see him. He wanted to read what was written on your face. Shame? No…yes, but something more. Embarrassment. Confusion. Ah— You clenched your jaw, finally returning his stare. Anger. “Did I not do exactly what I had promised I would? What I had warned you I would?” Your lips curled over your teeth. “While yes, I hadn’t explicitly stated the number of times-“
“Stop talking! No, no. Enough of that.” Charlie waved her arms as if she could dissipate the very topic away, “Alastor could you please give me a moment alone with her?” She looked at him with big, worried eyes, “Please?”
Through gritted teeth Alastor acquiesced, “It is your hotel, Princess. I’ll be just outside the door.” The last sentence was for you, you could feel it like you could feel his shadow still ghosting over your legs.
As soon as the door shut, she closed the distance between you, looking to Vaggie who offered her a supportive nod.
“Seriously, are you hurt? Did he— Did he hurt  you?”
Oh, you wish he had. That’d be easier to say. Easier to process. You wish he’d knocked you around like Val had done earlier. That left you indignant, enraged. But this — whatever this was — you couldn’t find purchase on a reaction. You didn’t even want to think the things bubbling under your consciousness. 
“Just my pride. Uhh,” you shifted, your thighs and cunt sore to the touch, “He really did warn me. Got my okay, kind of. And he didn’t hurt me, except dragging me around and flipping me but-”, You noticed Charlie’s alarmed expression, “I’m physically fine.”
She nodded, her expression still oozing concern, “Well that’s good, then.”
“What… You both seem humanish, but what exactly are-“ You tipped your head in the direction of the door. 
“Well I think Angel is some kind of spider…Husk, not entirely sure honestly”, Charlie looked up as if searching for a memory, “Alastor is a deer. It’s all tied to how people lived and died, I think.”
A deer? You shook your head, “Nothing about that man resembles a prey animal.”
“His death sure did.” Vaggie commented.
“So if I have some weird death I’ll end up here? If I drown… I’ll come back as a fish?” You were mostly thinking out loud, and hadn’t expected Charlie to nod in agreement.
“But don’t think about that! You might still go to heaven. Like Al said, he isn’t even sure the deal is binding.” She beamed and clapped her hands together.
It felt binding. 
When that green light had erupted from beneath you, you thought you could feel him. Not the tentacles, or the memory of his hand. It felt like he was in the light itself, casting shadows on the ceiling in the shape of you. It felt alive, every ray of light a breathe washing over you. 
You looked down at the robe, white and silky. Where were your clothes? Where was your fucking aunt? What about your phone? You had a car, too. Wait, no… did you drive to her house? Or did she…You hadn’t slept since being dragged to hell. Staring at the hem of the sleeve, you tried to focus your mind but suddenly you were wading in cognitive mud.
Shadows gathered near the foot of the bed before you saw Alastor rise out of the cluster. Charlie said something, Vaggie said something but sharper. It sounded far away already. Your body was beginning to feel heavy, an ache settling across your back and thighs.
“Perhaps you should lie down, my dear.” His voice cut through the murky waters of your thoughts. The bed sunk beside you as he pressed a hand down, the other lifting your chin to force eye contact. Vaggie made a loud noise, Charlie a smaller one, a longer one. Was it words? Were they speaking? Your lids were heavy over your eyes, Alastor’s face beginning to blur. His smile looked strained, eyebrows knitted together in an emotion almost recognized. Concern? His grin threw it off. You raised your eyebrows to try and open your eyes wider but the effect was minimal.
You heard yourself groan as an arm hooked under your knees, another catching your shoulders as you fell to the side. It felt like you were floating. Your legs came down slowly, you could feel the robe adjusting around your waist. Your head went back before comfortably straightening. A warmth spread down your neck, leaving goosebumps to runaway down your shoulder. It was dark now, and in the haze you heard from somewhere so close it felt like maybe you had thought it yourself,  “In perpetuity, mon cher.” 
You didn’t recognize the room at first, but when you finally managed to lift yourself out of bed you sighed. Home. You only knew it had been real because of the robe and busted lip. Well, mostly sure. 
 No one noticed you were gone, which wasn’t shocking. Working backwards, you could piece together you had gone to visit your aunt on Saturday morning. You awoke early Monday in your own bed some 60 miles from your aunt's home. Your car had been found abandoned off an old dirt road way outside of town. 
You tried to get back to life, get to work. But you were clearly only half there.
Your aunt was found dead the following weekend, half submerged in a swamp just outside of Tampa. Her funeral was funny. Not “haha” funny, “Say hi to Val for me” kinda funny. When they lowered her into the ground you wondered what she looked like. What's the animal manifestation of a selfish, raging bitch? What’s the most untrustworthy home appliance? 
Probably a gerbil, or a toaster. 
You found yourself doing that a lot, What will they look like in the afterlife?
It took a good six months for you to stop sleeping in the robe. You couldn’t trash it, it was evidence you had been spirited away. It smelled like smoke and baby oil. Like Angel. It was soft on your skin, like—
Oh. It took less time for the dreams to calm down. Maybe a month of waking up in a cold sweat.  
At first they were stressful. Val backhanding you. The feeling of leather chafing against your wrists. The cabin. The real one, not the set.
But then one night they weren’t stressful. You could remember the dream like it had really happened. A large hand cupping your cheek, another roaming past your hips before hooking under your knee. The warmth of a breath on your neck, on your navel. More hands. Everywhere. Your back, your ankle, your neck. 
You woke up and the first feeling you felt was disappointment. It hit you like a truck. 
The dreams slowly ramped up until some nights you awoke mid-orgasm. Never in your life had you experienced wet dreams; you didn’t even know women got them.
And it wasn’t always him—- well, not at first. You’d be kissing someone, a stranger or your ex or whoever. You’d have your hands in their hair, enjoying the feeling of their tongue sliding over yours. You’d be positively humming into their mouth. They’d pull you forward, lie you down, tugging your pants down your legs.
When they’d kiss up your arm and nestle into your neck they’d whisper hottily into your ear, “My doe.”
Sometimes you woke up, but many times you didn’t. Many times you grabbed his face and kissed him, letting him take control and direct you. You’d shrink beneath him, allowing him to use your body as he pleased. You’d surrender, you’d melt. He’d fuck you into the ground of god-knows-where, nails cutting into the flesh of your ass as he pulled you up to meet each punishing thrust. There were trees and starlight and you felt the humidity on your skin. 
You’d always squirm away, try to escape the pleasure and he would find joy in pulling you back onto his cock. It felt like a game where you both already knew the outcome. “Going to cum, sweetheart?”, would be the last thing you heard before the real life spasms of your release stirred you awake. 
The first man you took home after returning to earth was sweet. Gentle. Too gentle. You’d try to direct him, to let him know you wouldn’t break but he’d shy away from asserting dominance.
Other partners were more in charge, but it didn’t sit right. If you were going to allow someone control over you, you felt like they had to deserve it. You needed to respect them in some capacity. 
You tried choking during sex, while it did heighten the pleasure their hand felt so small it broke your concentration. Bondage was fun, you got a rush from shibari, but all it did was inform your dreams. 
You tried femdom, and while it was impowering it didn’t scratch that itch. You tried being a sub, but like before you found the people over you as unworthy of you. You didn’t think so highly of yourself, it’s just that autonomy was precious and these people were, well, just people. Mortals.  
Your friends enjoyed your hoe era, self titled, but it was short lived. It had been eight months since you returned when you bought your first real sex toy, and took up hiking. It felt nice to be outdoors, and the days you spent in the forests seemed to make for nights of  less intense dreams. 
Your toy was, ashamedly, selected for its three points of contact. A pink little vibrator, big enough to need some work into you but not painful. The first time you used it you clung to your pillow, heart ballooning against your spiked blood pressure, and screamed a chorus of his name. The two points inside you vibrating in tandem with the small suction cup shape extending from the base doming your clit brought back delicious memories. 
Every time, you felt embarrassed after. You could imagine him hearing you all the way in hell and chuckling at how pathetic you were. Satisfied at how empty you felt after.
It wasn’t just about the sex, you were never a very sexually needy person. You were chasing that feeling of surrender, of being both safe and out of control at the same time. The little bit of danger with the pleasure. But not, “local woman found dead in the woods” kind of danger. “Corrupt your soul and ruin your afterlife” kind of danger.
After a year of being earthside, life had finally calmed. Were you still fucked in your dreams? Yes, but a manageable once or so a month. Your toy was nice, but not necessary. A man, or anyone, hadn’t touched you in months. And that was alright. You felt almost normal, except the mornings you woke up hoping to see a pair of red eyes somewhere in the room. 
You chalked it up to escapism. 
Work had promoted you, twice, which helped distract you from boredom. While performing one of your monthly employee meetings, you met with a young man you’d recently hired. He was still in college, but he had a good head on his shoulders and made quick decisions. You were confident he’d be your equal within the year.
(Implied childhood trauma below the line; not graphic but it’s implied to have happened)
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“Tired?” He asked you while you logged back into your computer. 
You nodded, yawning into the back of your hand, “Spent most of Sunday at Shallow Ridge. Scoping out a good camping spot for when it warms up.”
“No shit, my dad hunts out there. Every Sunday, too.”
“I didn’t take you for the hunting type”, You blinked away the exhaustion and opened his employee file.
“Nah I’m not.” He shook his head, “He used to take me all the time when I was little.”
You nodded, not looking at him and only half listening, “Aww, sounds fun.”
He scoffed. You found the audio file of his graded phone calls, double clicking it. The file seemed corrupted. 
“Not fun?” You absentmindedly asked.
You opened the program to manually find the call file. The silence began to creep over you until you felt your chest heavy under the weight of it.
You finally looked at him. The look in his eyes was distant, the color from his face was gone. 
“Hey”, your tone changed, your subconscious recognizing something before you did.
He snapped back up, looking at you now. His smile didn’t meet his eyes. You didn’t say anything, just pushed your chair from your desk and looked directly at him.
“What?” He averted his gaze.
“You know you can tell me anything, right? You’re not just a resource here. Hell, I see you more than my own flesh and blood.”
He nodded, and when he finally brought his eyes back to yours his composure cracked and tears fell down his cheeks in streams. “It’s fine” he forced a laugh, “It was like a million years ago.”
You took off the rest of the day, and after providing hugs and your own tears and information on company sponsored counseling and resources, you went home.
Well, first you went to the camping store. And then home. Your dreams that week were calm, as if they knew you couldn’t enjoy a romp in a field.
When Saturday night bled into Sunday morning, you drove your car to Shallow Ridge. You placed the keys on the front seat and left your phone under the seat itself.
You waited for four hours, but eventually a truck pulled up and the man you saw in various Facebook photos and tagged family Christmas cards made his way into the dense forest. You circled back on the trail, head dizzy. 
You knew you couldn’t overpower him, but you weren’t trying to win. You just wanted to make him hurt. You’d met men like him before. You’d suffered men like him. Survived men like him. When you two crossed paths on the barely marked trail and you were a beat behind him, you stopped, took out the hunting knife you were told could cut bone, and brought it down into the crook of his neck with both hands.
He whipped around, shock and panic on his face as his hands came back from his shoulder bloody. When he scrambled for his gun you sliced at his chest, then again at his throat but it wasn’t deep enough to stop him. 
As he advanced on you, fumbling with his shotgun, you tumbled backwards. He fell with you, pinning you down beneath the full weight of his body on your stomach. Twisting beneath him you almost got onto your side when you sunk the knife into his inner thigh, remembering the artery there from your mother’s surgery. He got the gun loaded, aimed it at your chest, “Crazy bitch!”
“Fuck you.” 
He fired.
Your breath left steam as it flitted weakly from your body, frost still on the ground. Your mouth was open as blood held your face to the forest floor. As your vision darkened, you watched the man slump over and onto the ground beside you. His eyes were open and unmoving. 
A burst of green erupted from beneath you, and you smiled as you sank down into the light.
“Did you miss me terribly, my little doe?”
(Part three)
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Alastor - [TOUCH STARVED]
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A/N: Photo/Fanart Credit to @/Nyer_roth on Twitter (hiatus)
[ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ FEM/CAT HYBRID DEMON READER ]
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Touch Starved Alastor prefers your presence over anyone else’s in the Hotel. His shadows linger by your side if he’s not physically there and when he is it’s quite obvious to everyone how closely the Radio Demon is guarding you.
No one dares to breathe a word about his behavior but the moment he’s out of sight or ear shot Angel will tease you endlessly. “Seems you have Mr. Fancy Creep wrapped round your little finger, toots.” Your face flushes ten shades of red as the spider demon nudges your side while giggling at your flustered reaction. He knows -well everyone knows how you feel about Alastor- but you’ve made it a point to never let the overload onto your attraction to him.
Even if he already is aware of it…
Angel’s teasing doesn’t help your little crush dissolve as you wished it would, so with a huff and a rushed whisper you excuse yourself from the group. “N-no I don’t Angel and…I’m heading to bed. Goodnight…” Angle snickers at your deliberate deflecting, but says nothing else as you waltz up the staircase, barely listening to Charlie yelling “good night” to you, and failing to notice the dark mass of spectrums trailing your every step.
Touch Starved Alastor listens in on those pesky conversations the others have when it comes to you and him. You’re always so skittish and docile under their prying, blushing at the slightest implication of his attention being on you, and to say it intrigues him would be an understatement. Alastor isn’t one to entertain those who show him affection, let alone acknowledge it, but when it comes to you the overload’s mind runs rampant with devious desires. At first he ignores them, content with keeping your connection to him cordial, and that works for a time.
It doesn’t last forever though.
Especially when you unconsciously tend to him so reverently. You’re a people pleaser by nature -he’s sure of that- but the immediate stars in your eyes whenever he instructs you to do something strikes just the right nerve for him.
It’s always the simplest things, tedious tasks he burdens you with just to see your eagerness to please him on repeat, “My dear, would you be so kind as to hand me that book over there?” Your head lifts, hopeful eyes staring at him as you nod with a genuine smile, “Of course!” You chirp, walking right over to the bookshelf without question to acquire the item, and Alastor watches your every move.
The flutter of your lashes as you pinpoint the object, how you stand on your tip toes to reach it, and the gentle sway of your hair as you finally grasp the book. You’re so sweet, so gentle with everything, and Alastor spends hours trying to stop himself from thinking about your tender embrace being spared his way.
Touch Starved Alastor starts to lock himself in his room or radio tower more often than usual when he can’t seem to keep his distance. His shadows still lord over you but are never seen which makes it that much easier for him to watch you from afar.
His sudden disappearance and lack of socializing affects you heavily. You don’t smile as much and when you do the light in your eyes wanes. You’re still kind to everyone, but choose to sit alone during group activities, or wander the halls humming to avoid them all together.
Alastor takes notice of every frown adorning your face when someone mentions him or inquires as to where he is and for a split second guilt creeps its way into him seeing your energetic mood dwindle at his hands.
He can’t let this go on forever, not when you look so betrayed at the sound of his name, and mindlessly wander towards his empty room every night as if to check on him just to leave in fear of embarrassment.
Enough is enough.
Touch Starved Alastor finds you alone on a rare stormy night in Hell, an old book opened up to your curious eyes as you lay flat on your front across the parlor’s couch. He watches you from the shadows for a long while, studying the slight scrunch of your nose as your gaze happens open a certain line of text, and the way you gently kick your feet as your chin rests on the back of your hands.
He’s seen and met a mass amount of beings in his time in hell and not one has ever emitted anything close to your ethereal beauty. You swear you’re not a fallen angel to anyone who asks and it baffles him how a soul so light could end up here.
Unruly luck….maybe?
Fate, possibly?
He’ll figure it out one way or another.
“Hello, my dear, late night reading I see…” Alastors voice grasps your attention immediately, his usual staticky tone leaning towards normality as you peer up at him with a growing smile. “Yes…I couldn’t sleep,” you respond quietly, relatively shy around the overload, and trying hard not to seem overexcited to see him. You missed Alastor dearly the past few days but it would be embarrassing to show that longing outright….
The deer demon picked up on your excitement right away despite your attempts at casualness, his smile softening as you held his stare and bit your lip. Delicate fanged canines poking out just enough to prick your lower lip.
How adorable, Alastor inwardly muses at your nervous habit and continues with his light hearted interrogation. “Hm, I suppose a restless night can have that effect. ..Would you mind if I joined you then, darling?”
Touch Starved Alastor is elated when you nod gently, shifting to sit up properly, and give him a space beside you. “Of course Alastor…it gets lonely staying up by yourself. I’d appreciate the company.” Your sweet tone dazes him for a moment as he sits next to you, unconsciously disregarding his aversion to interpersonal space…
Odd…
He never situates himself this close to you, always looming, but never actively seeking your side. It’s strange to you at first but as he visibly relaxes you don’t mind the deliberate position he’s taken.
He could very well be tired or you might be hallucinating that he was putting an arm around your shoulders.
Either option didn’t ease the rapid pace of your heartbeat..
Alastor was careful with you, incredibly gentle as he pulled you to his side, and rested his chin on the top of your head. “Such a sweetheart you are, my dear.” He speaks quietly, oddly calm as you hum in agreement, your soft ears flattening as you breathe in his scent.
A smidge of brimstone mixed with the aroma bourbon and pine.
He smelled just like a lovely forest, a secure scent you wouldn’t mind getting used to, and tried to commit it to memory just in case Alastor never let you get this close to him again.
Touch Starved Alastor chuckles lowly when you breathe him in, finding your feline tendencies endearing, and listening to your soft purring become a vocal indicator of how comfortable you felt with him. You’d long forgotten the book, nuzzling your head under Alastor’s chin instead, getting lost in your innocent desire to be under him, and he makes no move to stop you.
If anything the radio demon welcomes your touch, sliding you onto his lap with ease, and that never ending smile of his becoming genuine when you absentmindedly compliment him. “…You smell…sweet,” you hum, speaking more to yourself than him, but he hears you and responds promptly. “Is that so, darling?”
You nod, head lifting to stare up at him through your lashes, “Mhm…I missed it..I…” you pause, face flushing red as the deer demon peers back at you, red eyes glinting with dormant affection as he studies your expressions.
“Come now, use your words dear…” he reassures you his patience isn’t waning with a gentle hum.
Alastor is tempted to watch your plush lips move as you struggle to speak up but it’s hard to resist when you finally whisper a confession -one you think he’ll be off put by…
“W-well I missed you entirely Alastor… a lot actually.” And there you go again, eyes wide with apprehensive hope, and ever present adoration. He’d felt his fair share of adrenaline rushes, experienced the “blood rushing to your head” urges that sinners and demons alike couldn’t resist, and though Alastor prided himself in remaining in control of such things…
You brought them out of him without even trying.
Ridiculous, truly…but the longer you fawned over him the less cordiality Alastor maintained.
Touch Starved Alastor lets his smile soften, deeply appreciating your timid vulnerability, and much to your relief he lets you know it. “Missed me? Well, I must have quite the effect on you to instill such a sentiment,” His tone is abundantly softer than usual, quietly echoing in the hotels parlor, and tickling the nerves in your ears.
They perk up along with your tail as he rests his hands on your waist, pulling you impossibly close until the only proper place you can latch your hands onto is the back of the carved mahogany frame of the couch. “Al…” you sigh softly, eyes fluttering shut as his grip on you tightens a tad in response.
When had he gotten so touchy? Better yet, why?
All logical questions that you were asking yourself weren’t granted answers as the overlord inhaled heavily. Breathing you in just as you’d done to him moments ago.
Your unsteady pulse, rising lust, slight confusion, and underlying fear of him coursing through your veins in waves. Alastor identified each emotion, practically tasting them on his tongue, and his hunger rose again from it.
He could just eat you alive at this rate and from the whine you let out as he trailed his hands down to your thighs, claws ripping right through the sheer white thigh high socks you’d paired with a modestly short nightgown made it abundantly clear to him you wouldn’t mind if he did.
How sweet you’d taste?
How the shaky whines you were letting out now could turn to bashful screams?
How sickeningly perfect you’d look broken, bloody, and marked by him and him alone?
He’d wondered about these things constantly…feverishly…
Touch Starved Alastor lets his mirage of being a “true gentleman” dissipate entirely when you subconsciously roll your hips down on him for much needed friction -and in an attempt to dissolve the pain his scratches on your skin brought.
Fuck. This. Alastor curses himself, swiftly repositioning you both in a blink of an eye. Your back hits the velvet cushions with a gentle ‘thud’, earning a soft gasp on your part that’s inevitably silenced by one of his shadows wrapping around your mouth, and another gingerly snaking round your waist. He chuckles as you squirm underneath him, clearly wanting to be in control of your own body, but what would you ever need that autonomy for?
He’s here for a reason, right?
Why grant you more agency than required?
“Comfortable, my dear?” The leering stag above you chides, grin wide as you groan in frustration, eyes sliding shut as he slips between your parted legs. His red irises show brighter as your lower halves press flush against each other and you shudder from the contact -inwardly congratulating yourself for not wearing much underneath your nightdress to begin with.
Alastor allowed your hands to reach for him, your delicate claws gripping his suit collar as firmly as possible, tugging him lower as you shifted under his weight to grind against him. “Patience is a virtue, sweetheart,” he half reprimands half teases as your bare slit passes over the crotch of his black dress pants. There was no doubt your slick was leaving a stain and if it were anyone else -in any other situation- Alastor would’ve had their head for ruining his attire.
Luckily, you were to receive anything but his wrath.
How fortunate…
Touch Starved Alastor feels himself going mad when you mindlessly use any part of him you can reach as a bid for more pleasure. Eyes watering, begging him to touch you, help you, and it’s one hell of a sight to see in his opinion. “Desperate aren’t we, darling?” His cooing drives you insane, large hands wandering under your nightgown to trace your warm skin -not helping your dazed state at all.
Alastor purposefully claws at your body, placing surface level scars on it, letting the small droplets of blood that escape his cuts paint your skin and his fingertips. You struggle every soften, train of thought lagging as pain and pleasure start to intertwine.
“….please don’t stop..”
“What a sick & twisted little thing you are..”
Tears run down your face, drool dripping from the corner of your lips, and your cunt leaking all over him and sofa. Blood starts to seep through your nightdress in random streaks and it’s only then that Alastor decide it’s redundant to keep it on you. “Let’s get rid of this, shall we?” That’s all the warning you get from the radio demon before you feel his claws shred it to pieces.
Thank heavens you hadn’t chosen your favorite one tonight or you’d be devastated…
“Much, much better, ma chère,” Alastor praises you as if the task was at your own hands -and to some degree it was for letting him get this far- and yet your face flushes a deep shade of red as you nod in agreement.
The shadowy tentacle covering your mouth tightens its grip, shifting sharply to expose your neck to him, and Alastor seizes the opening immediately. Taking his time finding your sensitive spots, marking them with his teeth and tongue until there’s dark bruises left behind, and you nearly came undone from the relentless precision of love bites he inflicts on you.
Touch Starved Alastor allows your hands wander wherever they please, quite taken with the feeling of your dainty claws raking down his back, or shifting up to pet his ears. They flicker about at your touch, ever so sensitive, and heightening the pleasure he gets from torturing you. Every sound you make, the shuddering moans against his lips, and the muffled cries that build in your chest when Alastor toys with you muddles his focus further.
Bit by bit you’re chipping away at his sanity by simply enjoying his caress and offering him yours.
Alastor isn’t one to succumb to pleading easily but when you’re given the chance to use your voice and beg for release without a second thought….he hasn’t got the gall to deny you.
Not when you’re looking up at him like you might die if he denies you, so worked up that you stutter, and shake uncontrollably.
“N-need to….p-please let me…come,” you whine as quietly as possible, ears laying flat on your head as he hums melodically in false consideration for your plight.
It’s fueling his already massive ego that you’re poised to come undone when he’s barely done a thing to you and he has half the mind to pull away and watch you fall to pieces…
You’d surely give him a show then, pouting helplessly, or cowering from embarrassment realizing how much of a mess you’ve made of yourself for him.
It’d be pure entertainment.
However, why waste a prime opportunity to see you utterly satisfied by him?
By his mere presence even.
The deer demon refuses to pass up such a rare occurrence, flipping your position again so your smaller frame sits atop his larger one. “F-fuck..” you hiss as you settle on top of him, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he guides your hips to keep riding him at a rough but languid pace. Alastor observes you above him for a long moment, smile widening when your hair falls in front of your bright eyes, and your hands splay across his chest to keep yourself steadily upright.
The scratches he’s left on you are still fresh, mixing with the tears that flow down your face, and your arousal pitifully dribbling down your inner thighs as well.
Exactly how he pictured you time and time again.
“You may,” he finally exhales, static completely gone from his voice, and hearing it elicits a newfound spark of heat in your core. Your legs shake involuntarily, hips stuttering in tight circles over his clothed erection as you chased your high. Alastor watches you intently, tonguing his cheek to keep from groaning, and his body running hotter than usual as your cunt drags against him.
Touch Starved Alastor can’t fathom how a soul as tender as yours can dwindle to filth in the midst of cumming. Head lulling at an angle while your back arches just right to define your silhouette in the dark room.
The coil in your stomach snaps faster than you can gauge a reaction. A scream threatening to leap from your chest as it washed over you, but his shadows return, clasping tight enough to muffle it. “Easy, my dear…you wouldn’t want to disturb the others, hm?” Alastor bucks his hips upward to make his point clear and you visibly jolt from the overstimulation he causes.
It was clear he needed his end met too and that brought a grin to your face as his shadows receded from your lips when you quieted down. “No…” you sigh, inching a hand lower to trace over the rise in his pants. Alastor stiffens under your touch, nearly snarling when you palm him slowly, eyes never leaving his as you do. Tempting and sweet as always, “Careful, Mon Cher,” he warns, voice thick with allure.
He’d only come to seek a warm body to torment, assuming he’d take care of his own needs later, but you -the ever so caring sinner you were- seemed intent to shoulder the task now.
You licked your lips, tongue grazing your fangs as your peered down at him defiantly with a warm smile, “M’ not one of your little puppets…” Alastor raised a brow at that, noting the mischievous glint in your eyes as you leaned forward, “….and I never will be.” You finish your statement, smiling wider before lowering yourself down his body. He lets you do as you please, stuck between observing, and enjoying the attention you give him.
It’s very rare to see the overload so willing to be tested, but you made your stance clear with a singular lick up his clothed length with the softest smile on your lips. “Fuck…” he groans then, static nonexistent again as you playfully repeated the action until he became agitated enough to fist a handful of your hair and drag you back up to face him.
“It’s not very polite to tease, sweetheart.”
You smirk and reach for his belt, skillfully undoing it without breaking eye contact, feigning humility through half lidded eyes“Then would you be so kind as to correct my manners then?”
“It’d be my pleasure, darling,”
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My head was all over the place with this one ❤️ I need some sleep…
[ BONUS CONTENT + ]
He’s a literal walking red flag 🚩 and unfortunately my favorite color is red 😭 Credits to the creator 🖤
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simpjaes · 2 months
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take the back-seat part two. (p.js & s.jy)
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Jake isn’t sure what’s worse, the thirteen hour drive to the beach where he watched you get railed by his best friend in the backseat, or the five days he’s gonna be spending there knowing he is expected to watch—or join, whichever.
– read part one here! 
minors do not interact, otherwise― pls reblog my works
WC ― 14.3k
PARING ―  jay x afab reader x jake 
TAGS ― vacation setting, threesome, voyeurism, exhibitionism, jealousy (both jay & jake), implications of a budding poly relationship, there’s a lot of dialogue to depict character development regarding the whole inviting jake thing. 
!!WARNINGS!! ― jay is a little touchy with jake, if you don’t like it, sounds like a you problem. 
A/N― reminder that this fic is a revamp from one i wrote over on my other blog! here is part two :D enjoy! 
smut tags under cut:: 
smut tags― borderline infidelity (jay is into but doesn’t wanna admit it), finger fucking, neglected cock syndrome, hair pulling, jay teaches jake how to fuck his girl, jay basically moves jake like a puppet, cum stuffing, humiliation/degradation, double vaginal penetration, unprotected sex
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What Jake feels for the remainder of that drive was unexplainable. Looking at you through the mirror with Jay next to you…it felt,for lack of a better word, different. Sure, he’s walked in on the two of you before, and watched for a little too long but, this is different. He personally saw Jay stuff you full and not only that but he saw your face as it happened. You spoke for him, to him , and he didn’t even get his ass kicked by Jay after the fact.
The feelings in his head swirl around like a forming tornado threatening to touch down and cause him to lose all sanity. Five days with you two locked in this beach house with nothing but freedom at your feet. Worse, even when the three of you go home, he’s just locked in a different space with the two of you until he gets back on his feet. Jake isn’t even sure if he wants to leave now. On one hand, he wants to start running just to get away from the overwhelming embarrassment, on the other, he thinks he might like it. He thinks the two of you might like him being around to see too. 
“Is this going to be a normal thing?” Jake remembers asking Jay inside of the bathroom at the gas station. What was Jay’s response? “ Maybe, if you keep wanting to catch us.” 
What to do, what to do, with a lust so hungry Jake feels like it’s eating him from the inside out? Catch you on purpose? Stalk your private moments with his best friend just to get another taste of that bliss just out of reach? Not even a taste actually. 
 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Jay drags his feet as he carries your bags along with his own. He’s acting normal despite the constant groaning about how his legs hurt after certain endeavors on top of the thirteen-hour car ride. You stay close to him, attempting to snatch a few bags so that he would at least stop crying about the very deed he wanted to do during the ride. 
Jake stays behind, quietly carrying in his things and avoiding the cracks on the sidewalk so as to not scratch his new suitcase set (and so he doesn’t break his mother’s back). One headphone in, he barely hears the two of you as he opts to try and escape the madness outside of the audio in his ear. That is, until he gets inside the beach house.
“Okay so, hear me out–” Jay smiles at Jake, stepping in front of him as he tries to pass. “Listen, Jake. Just,” Jay puts his hands out in front of him, stepping both left and right to continuously block Jake’s path. 
“There’s only one bedroom.” You announce, breaking Jay’s plan of trying to convince Jake that it would be a sick idea for him to watch more . 
Jay did know. Of course he fucking knew, he’s the one who booked the place. You didn’t know, but he also knew you’d play along anyway. Given, Jay hadn’t completely planned the whole car thing so it’s kind of awkward now. Despite always wanting to be caught, watched, and envied, Jay really didn’t think past the idea of causing Jake inner turmoil with this rental.
“S’cool. I’ll take the couch.” Jake waves off, dropping his bags and looking around the space.
Your eyes drop before Jay’s do. 
“Wait, no,” Jay groans out, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, you can still sleep in there with us. There’s two beds.”
Two beds. So it was intentional to put Jake in a position he couldn’t resist, huh?
“The idea was to invite you to watch. Surely you’ve caught on to everything by now, right?” Jay looks at Jake with an apologetic stare. “It’s kind of awkward now inviting you, but I thought you’d be happy to take us up on the offer, especially after our little talk…”
Jake looks to the floor with tinted red flushing over his cheeks. 
“You really couldn’t just wait to get here first before sitting him down and discussing?” You ask, scolding your boyfriend despite the fact that you played at least fifty percent into his on-the-fly plan on the ride over here.
“You looked hot and he was tired.” Jay states the obvious with a careless shrug. 
Jake is just standing there trying his best not to let his mouth fall open. Jay really wants to propose that he should just watch? Nothing else? Just fucking watch?
 Ka-ching. It’s little to grasp at, but Jake’s gonna take it. After seeing everything and hearing you, why wouldn’t he? His best friend is practically giving him the ability to watch you be pleasured. 
“Okay,” Jake stops both of you from bickering. “Let’s discuss it now then.” He adds, averting his eyes from both you and your boyfriend to avoid showing how much interest he actually has in this little vacation plan.
 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
After a long and drawn out discussion, rules were set into place. Rule number one, Jake cannot touch you under any circumstance. You were quick to side eye your boyfriend’s best friend during that moment, noting the disappointed look that washed across his face. Rule number two, Jake can request things he wants to see, but if either you or Jay are uncomfortable with it, the request can be ignored. Rule number three, you can talk to Jake while it happens and he can talk back, but Jay will more than likely use every opportunity he finds to humiliate him for it. 
Jake doesn’t falter at any of the rules except for the first one, mostly because it’s going to be hard to not want to touch you. He assumes that’s part of the fun for Jay though. He feels embarrassed accepting the terms, awkward as he places his bags in the shared room the three of you will be sleeping in, and restless at the way reality hits him. You, his best friend’s girlfriend, want him to see. 
You want him to get off to you. 
He feels a bit shameful about it. After all, Jay has been his best friend for fucking years at this point and he’s a little unnerved that none of this is making him feel as weird as it should be. Should Jake really be excited about watching his best friend fuck his girlfriend? Probably not, but he is, and he just assumes this is another ‘ weird’ thing he likes added to his list. 
“Hey–” Jay nods his head towards Jake as you walk out of the room for a shower. You did your best to clean up at the gas station too but, to be fair, the bathroom was just as dirty and cum-covered as you were, probably.  
“Yeah?” Jake looks over at him, unzipping his suitcase and pulling out a change of clothes. Mostly so he can hop in the shower after you’re done. 
“You sure you’re cool with this? I know I kind of did a lot of this intentionally, but really, if you’re uncomfortable I’d rather you just tell us–”
“No!” Jake argues at an embarrassingly desperate pitch. “I mean, no.” He clears his throat as he corrects himself, and then does his best to avoid eye contact by focusing solely on digging for his toiletries. 
“That’s what I thought,” Jay smiles knowingly at him, internally writing a list of things he can do to torture Jake, a list specifically made to cause envy and probably resentment. 
“So, like,” Jake swallows, still unsure of his footing in this situation. “When will it happen again?” 
Jay actually laughs at him this time. 
“Oh, you thought–” He shakes his head and goes to take off his shirt. “No, no. Jake. You’re still gonna have to catch us to watch.” He explains, throwing his shirt on the presumed “cuck chair” in the room.
“Wait, what?” Jake is confused. They want him to watch, but they’re still going to make him go through the embarrassment of catching them? 
“That’s the fun part of it for me,” Jay tries to clear it up. “I like the surprise of someone seeing. I like the reactions. It’s exciting,” He continues, now stopping to really look at Jake. “Looks like you enjoy watching, so–”
Jake nods slightly, tilting his head with a furrowed brow.  “For the record, I’ve never been into this kind of thing. You kind of made it hard not to see things.” 
“I know.” Jay laughs. “Gotta get creative on weeknights when there's no parties going on.”
“You do it at parties? Like just right there in public ?”
Jay nods with a smug smile. 
“A lot of people don’t even notice, but the ones that do–” Jay’s eyes nearly light up. “They always watch. They don’t even pretend to look away.” 
Jake feels a little bit flushed at the idea of attending a party with the two of you. He couldn’t imagine being put in a situation where he, along with several others, get to watch you orgasm. 
“She likes that?” Jake asks, a little shocked.
“I mean, she gets really into it but I can admit that she seems to like when you watch a lot more.” Jay glares for a second. “Which again, kind of pisses me off.”
Jake waves him off, trying to act nonchalant about it. 
“I hope you know that this is more of a trial run, Jake. If she gets bored of you, she probably won’t be as into it later.”
Okay, ouch. Fair, though. Jake would never stick around if it’s not something you want. He can already sense that Jay didn’t want it this way either. Maybe Jake watching was exciting, but he does sense a bit of tenseness in the air each time Jay brings up how you lusted over him so blatantly in the car. 
“And if she doesn’t get bored?” Jake counters and Jay kind of takes internal offense to it. Passive aggressively chuckling towards him. 
“Oh, she will.” Jay says as a way to assure himself rather than answering Jake. “I’m the only person she doesn’t get bored of.” 
  Jake, for some reason, takes that as a challenge. He might be the one getting the short end of the stick here, but the only reason he’s getting a stick at all is because of you. Regardless of if Jay wanted him to watch, surely he never wanted you to like it as much as you do. 
 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Well, competition is one way to put it. Jay resents himself forever even trying to get Jake all flustered. He did it because he wanted to be watched, but he also wanted Jake to be fucking jealous. How the hell is he supposed to be jealous when you, his own girlfriend, got entirely too wet for another man while he was buried in you?
Playing it as cool as he can, Jay is still excited, just a little less now that he knows he’s going to have to fight for your attention. Those set rules? Between you and Jay, neither of you had to actually follow those rules. Jake can do what he wants at your discretion, but it’s not like Jay is gonna just tell him that. He was shocked that you pressed to let Jake join just one time. His whole fantasy is about being watched during a private act, not inviting someone to actively play a part in it. Nevertheless, he granted you a small nod when you suggested it, sternly letting out a small “ just this once. ”
Sure, he’s the one who fucked you in the car and he’s the one who told you to talk to Jake but, it’s not like he expected the outcome that came from it. It was a moment of lust where he thought it would be hot to see you unable to speak because you’re being fucked– but no. You were speaking to Jake and riding him harder because of whatever the fuck was going on up in that front seat. 
Naturally, your boyfriend has that mischievous little glint in his eye when you return from the shower and Jake opts to steal the bathroom before he can. 
“You are aware that you’re getting more out of this than I am, right?” Jay laughs, pulling you from your stance and flopping you down onto the bed. “I just wanted him to be jealous, you’re ruining my fantasy.”
You smile at him with the same mischievous little glint. 
“And you’re an amazing boyfriend for letting me try something new,” You praise, kissing the tip of his nose when he crawls on top of you. “I’m sorry that it’s hot knowing two guys want me this badly.”
Jay sighs, dropping his face to your neck to smell the soap against your skin. Of course, you’d be into that. His thing is people being jealous of what he gets and your thing just has to be the idea of being wanted. It fits a little too well. 
“Bet you weren’t even planning to put anything on for bed tonight, were you?” He laughs with a groan, cursing how willing he is to let you have whatever you want despite not wanting to give Jake what he wants. 
“Bingo,” You smile evilly, pulling away from Jay so you can see his face. “Plus, it’s hot seeing you get all possessive. That’s new, even for you.”
Jay once again sighs with a groan. 
“Promise you won’t like, up and leave me for my best friend?”
Realizing there’s a bit of truth behind his concerns, you stiffen a bit.
“You know I wouldn’t do that. Just because he’s hot doesn’t mean he can pleasure me better, or treat me better.” 
Finally, a genuine smile breaks across his face and it makes you feel warm. 
“Do you wanna play a little tonight?” He offers, wiggling on top of you with a newfound desire over the fact that you always know how to silence even the slightest of insecurity he feels. 
 “After everything from the ride over? I’m tired, Jay, really.” You admit with a pout. 
“I’m not tired yet. Just let me do the work, you can just rest–” He tries to convince you and it works, much like it always does. 
Jay is doing this specifically for you. It’s not like he always needs to be seen when the two of you are intimate. It’s nice sometimes seeing you act real for him. Seeing your underwhelming and soft reactions to whatever he’s doing because you both know that you’re not putting on a show. He can admit to loving the way you still moan for him despite knowing nobody but him can hear it. 
Even knowing Jake will be in the bed next to yours at any moment, you think Jay can get away with whatever he wants to do privately . And for the most part, he does. At least, at first he does. 
Lying on your back with a leg thrown over Jay’s lower half as his fingers trace lazy circles against your bare skin, you knew his fingers were going lower and lower, but it’s relaxing even as your eyes fight to stay open. 
When Jake comes back into the room, hair still dripping a bit at his failure to dry it properly, you don’t move or react outside of a sleepy glance at him. 
“Hey, you ready to hit the sack?” Jay calls out, fingers moving lower on your stomach and landing just above where your panties would sit if you were wearing any under this robe. 
“Yeah. Water ran cold though, might wanna wait a little bit before you shower, Sorry.” Jake admits with shame, not making eye contact with either of you as he flops himself onto his bed. He’s wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants, which is something you’ve seen him wear time and time again at home, but man, why does it look so hot now?
Jay laughs, kind of like an ‘of course there's no hot water for me’ laugh, but he doesn’t mind, if anything, he’s having fun lulling you to sleep with a gentle finger fuck session behind Jake’s back.
The room goes silent save for the television that Jay flips to some random reality show. You’re still focused on his fingers, more gentle than he normally would be. Still, it’s probably just because, for once, he doesn’t want Jake to know what’s happening. 
When your boyfriend’s fingers finally make their way to your clit, it’s not shocking that you’re already wet. Your breathing is still even, and it feels good to be touched right now. You turn your head only slightly to look at Jake. He’s so endearing to look at. Never once have you seen him preparing himself for sleep. For some reason, it feels intimate seeing his bedtime rituals. 
With one hand scratching against his hair, he’s on his side and practically hugging his pillow against his head as he fixes his eyes on the television. You can see how heavy his eyes are. He was already tired when he first started his shift of driving, and the back seat didn’t offer much in terms of a nap. You imagine if he knew what Jay was doing, he wouldn’t have the energy to participate anyway. 
You, though, are feeling a little bit more awake since your clit is being beautifully stimulated by your boyfriend. Jake’s supposed to be watching you with this little deal, but there were no rules that you couldn’t watch him and fantasize, right?
Jay is a little shocked when you hold his hand in place and turn to face Jake. You close your eyes at first, mostly so it still looks like you’re about to sleep, but you press Jay’s fingers a bit lower, urging him to penetrate you with them. 
He, like the amazing boyfriend he is, follows suit with a curious stare at the back of your head. Then, he turns on his side behind you and spoons you, adjusting his position so that he can swoop his hand under your ass and between your legs in order to do just as you ask of him.
Jay knows what you’re doing, but opts not to say anything despite really wanting to. He assumes Jake is blissfully unaware, somehow, so saying something would turn this whole situation into something more than any of you actually feel like doing tonight.
This goes smoothly for a few minutes, with his fingers gently and silently plunging in and out of you. Honestly, Jay is too good with his fingers and he’s being too quiet compared to normal, again, because of Jake. You know you shouldn’t be including him right now, but you are, even if secretly. 
A breath falls from your lips when Jay rubs his fingers against a particularly sensitive spot inside of you, sending a wave of warmth down your body and dripping out against his fingers. 
“Feels good?” He whispers against your ear, noting the way your breathing is a bit more audible. “Don’t forget that I’m the one touching you, baby.”  He adds in an even quieter whisper. 
You let out a small groan in response, very small. Just loud enough for Jake to fix his eyes on you to find you blatantly staring back at him.
You smile at him and press your ass back against Jay just a little bit, and he’s quick to move his fingers quicker inside of you.
Jake just looks at you, processing that it’s already happening again. 
 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
The summer air is salty but all too grounding for Jake as he sits on his towel and watches the way you and Jay appear to be as comfortable as ever wrestling on the shore of the sea. Even after last night, part of him wonders what actually happened but he isn’t sure if he’s allowed to ask. Not only did you look at him as you hit your climax, but Jake was made aware that he needed to be silent in watching you due to your finger coming up to your mouth in a shushing action.
His eyes darted to Jay when you did that but he appeared to be a great actor as he watched the tv with his head tucked between your shoulder and neck, fingers plunging in and out of you casually. Even when Jake gently fucked his own fist, staring directly back at you, he realized that this shared moment with you was something Jay wasn’t aware of. It blurs the lines a bit of what is okay and what isn’t, but the rule is that Jake can watch if he catches the act. He guesses you’re the one breaking rules.
Even now, as he processes this newfound sexual adventure in his head, he’s fond of the relationship Jay has with you. Incredibly jealous, of course, but also just– Jake wants what Jay has.He wouldn’t share you, he wouldn’t want people to see him pleasure you, and he certainly wouldn’t want Jay’s cock to make an appearance at any point during his relationship with you, but you’re not his. 
Still, the two of you seem to enjoy this kind of thing, and the fact that Jake appears to be the chosen third to take part makes him feel warm. Despite his jealousy, he respects the relationship you have with his best friend for the most part. There’s still that selfishness inside him though, the thought of being able to be between your legs rather than just a person to look at across the room? It drives him insane. Jay gets to flaunt you, make you feel good, and make you moan but, Jake is very aware that he got all of your attention the night before, even if it wasn’t his own fingers doing it to you. He got your attention in the car too, to the point of Jay showing his own jealousy. 
Again, there’s a thin line between what he’s allowed to do and infidelity. If you ask him to do anything though, he’s going to do it. He’s going to be what you want or need at any given moment simply because he’s a single man forced to live with his extremely sexually adventurous friends, and you happen to be incredibly fucking arousing to him. Jay kind of did it to himself. Never would Jake have fantasized about you like this if it weren’t for the fact that Jay desperately wants people to see his cock inside of you.
“Hey!” You shout from the shore, pulling Jake out of his thoughts. 
He waves back to you and then glances at Jay who has a huge smile on his face. Jake watches as you struggle to leave the water, the weight of the waves pushing and pulling you as you look at him. He stands to his feet, kicking off some of the sand on his legs, and makes his way towards you as well, meeting you in the middle. 
“I’m gonna have a snack, go waterboard my boyfriend.” You joke when you stop in front of him. 
“There’s chips in my bag if you want any.” Jake waves you off, realizing how normal the communication is between the two of you. In the silence, the communication is somehow more intimate.
When Jake makes his way down to the water, straight up to his best friend, for some reason he still feels like he’s walking on eggshells with all of this. Not with you though, because you clearly know what you want. Jay, on the other hand, shows that he’s annoyed over his plan becoming more of a pleasure for everyone but him.
“You’re not hungry?” Jake asks, dipping himself lower into the water and shivering at the ocean breeze. 
“Nah, we’re finally here. I’m staying in the water ‘til I’m forced to leave.” 
“Ah, good plan.” Jake confirms, allowing himself to float back a bit with the waves.
“Are we okay?” Jay suddenly asks, standing to his feet and looking down at him. “You really are allowed to decline this offer. I'm even a little nervous about it now.”
Jake squints his eyes open towards Jay, the sun blinding him more than his best friend’s smile usually would.
“It’s a little weird but I like trying new things. I’m not trying to disrespect you by accepting.”
Jay sighs in relief. 
“I know. If it’s gonna be anyone, I'd rather it be you.” He laughs with a sigh. “Still would rather her focus on me but I guess I kind of owe her this.” 
Jake adjusts himself back to his feet, tilting his head at Jay.
“Oh yeah?” 
“I mean, it’s not like she was into the whole being watched thing until I told her I wanted to try it.” Jay looks up into the sky, feeling the sun warm his face. “I liked it more than she did, but she came around, I never forced it or anything.” He breathes in the air and sinks lower into the water. “I think she did it to please me but she started getting really into it after a few times.” 
“She’s definitely something–” Jake starts, glancing at your figure flopping back on the sand and sinking your hand into a bag of chips. 
“Yeah, and I guess it’s my turn to let her try the things she’s curious about.” He laughs. “Even though it’s my fault and it involves my best friend. I’m trying to come to terms with the fact that neither of you would do anything behind my back. ”
Damn. 
“Um, yeah.” Jake looks away for a moment. He knows he is famously awful at lying.
Jay looks at Jake knowingly. 
“Like, without me in the room at least,” He smiles, winking at Jake once before throwing a splash at him. “because I know what you guys did last night.”
Jake goes silent, wiping the salt water from his eyes and looking at Jay apologetically with burning pupils. 
“Relax, she told me while you were up there sulking. Said something about the danger of me finding out or something got her going, even though she knew that I caught on anyway.” Jay reassures, explaining away any explanation of Jake himself being the reason for it. “I get it.” He laughs this time.
“Should I like, have not watched?” Jake asks awkwardly, looking away from Jay and floating back a bit. 
“Nah, just give her what she wants. She’s gonna tell me regardless so let’s just try to have fun with this okay? If any of us are having issues, speak up.” Jay glares for a moment. “Because you know damn well I’ll put a stop to all of it if it goes too far.”
Jake nods, a small smile creeping up on his face. 
“What happens at the beach, stays at the beach.”
“God, I hope. I’m not moving you into our room at home.” Jay laughs, feeling a little better about it.
 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
A very sexually active trip indeed. Jake could sense the tension in the air by the time all of you return to the beach house. Even through dinner, he sensed both you and Jay staring at him in very different ways. Even though talking made Jay feel better, he’s still possessive over you and you seem to like it a lot . So, he might be playing it up a bit for your sake. 
You are quite literally eye-fucking Jake, and Jay’s eyes are basically demanding him to keep his cock under lock and key. It’s weirdly erotic, and insanely confusing, but he knows Jay will speak up if shit goes too far, just like he said he would. 
By the time the three of you are piled up on the couch and putting in some shitty romance movie, it gets a little more comfortable. 
You’re leaned up against your boyfriend and Jake is leaned up against the arm of the couch at the other end. He doesn’t feel eyes on him anymore and it’s a relief. 
By the time it’s mid movie, he notes the soft snores coming from Jay. You, on the other hand, are feeling mischievous. Jay said to you specifically, away from Jake, no limits . Do what you want to him, ignore the rules, explore, have fun– but be ready to stop at the slightest mention of discomfort from either of them. You’re being given so much fucking power over both of these men. They both want you , and god does it feel fucking amazing to be wanted. 
When you shift towards Jake, gently so that Jay isn’t stirred from his slumber, Jake finds himself leaning towards you without question. Even when you slide yourself under his blanket and grab his hand, he doesn’t falter. 
His attention to the plot on the screen in front of him surely falters though. You’re doing the thing again. You’re excluding your boyfriend and Jake can’t bring himself to give a single fuck right now because you’re quite literally slipping his hand into your panties without so much as a “please?”
Immediately Jake’s fingers explore against his better judgment. He’s seen your pussy stretched out on his best friend, he’s watched you orgasm, he’s heard you moan, but never has he gotten to touch you. 
“Mhm,” You encourage gently when Jake slides his fingers down your slit, collecting the slippery arousal and sliding his fingers back up to your clit. 
  You found yourself wondering how Jake would do it, especially the past day or so. Jay knew how to please you, but you can’t help but think that the act of someone learning how to please you is just as hot. Jake appears to know exactly how to use his fingers against a woman, the thought of him alone with someone other than you only heightens your pleasure at this moment. 
Jake does this for a while, silently and gently rubbing your clit as he forces his eyes to stay on the screen. You just watch him though, and the way he parts his lips in a silent moan when you press against his fingers with the smallest show of want . 
The secretiveness of it really gets you going. Seeing Jake turn to mush in your hands, doing anything you could ask him to do, right there while your boyfriend is sleeping next to you? God, what a fucking simp. You love it. You love the fact that his fingers are slightly softer compared to Jay’s, and the way he avoids sticking them in you even if you insist by lifting your hips slightly.
You lean towards Jake more this time, moving one leg over his lap and opening yourself up for more. 
“You should fuck me.” You whisper into his ear with a voice far too sweet for the words. “He won’t mind.” You add at his silence, feeling his fingers halt as he processes the words. 
“I can’t do that–” Jake whispers back, sliding his fingers down again and noting how much wetter you’ve gotten. 
“Want me to ask him?” You joke, grabbing his hand and holding his fingers right against your entrance. 
Jake shakes his head, feeling nervous as hell as his fingers rest in the one spot he definitely would love to fuck. 
“You’re no fun.” You sigh in disappointment, releasing his hand.
That makes Jake panic a little bit, the words of Jay mentioning that you will get bored with him eventually. It drives him to just—
“Brave boy,” You coo out at the feeling of Jake slipping his fingers inside of you through a panicked motion, sliding them in until you can feel his knuckles against your folds. You knew he would give you what you want.“Your fingers are long. Do you know how to use them, Jakey?”
Jake is fucking floored by the idea that his fingers are inside of you, you’re talking to him like this, and Jay is missing out on all of it.
Except he’s not. To Jake’s knowledge, Jay is in dream land. You, on the other hand? You’re very aware that Jay is terrible at pretending to sleep. Not only is he putting on this show for you, but he’s actually helping you. 
Kind of a shock, because you really did think he was asleep at one point. He blew his cover with a small smirk towards you, peeking an eye open at your shock of him resting a hand on your other leg and spreading it more in your attempt to get Jake to finger-fuck you. Jay wasn’t going to help out, but the moment he heard Jake reject you, he figured that his best friend can definitely be trusted in this situation. 
One of Jay’s favorite things about you is how dirty you can be, but never once has he seen you be more dominant over another person. Certainly not him. He finds it incredibly sexy in the way you both mock and talk down towards Jake even though he’s making you feel good. You don’t do that to Jay, you only moan for him. So yeah, maybe, going against his gut in this situation and allowing Jake to actually touch you is a bit hotter than he wants it to be. 
The best part? Jake doesn’t know your cues when you’re nearing orgasm, but Jay does and he uses that to his advantage. Spreading your leg out further so Jake can do whatever it is he’s doing with his fingers better. 
Jay softens at the fact that he would have already brought you to orgasm by now. Your soft mews sound more like you’re trying to fluster Jake rather than a reaction to pleasure, and it’s fun. It’s boosting his ego so high that he actually wonders how long it’ll take Jake to get you there. 
You feel just as boosted as Jay does right now. With his false sleep as he attempts to help you through this, Jake is half-focused on finger fucking you out of fear that he will be caught. It’s all well and good, but you want to cum. 
“Jake,” You whisper loudly, forgetting that you’re supposed to be pretending this is a secret. 
When Jake tries to pull his fingers out of you at the loud whisper, ultimately so he could pretend he was just watching the movie and absolutely not burying his fingers into his best friend’s girl, you hold his hand in place. Preventing his fingers from leaving you and you look at him. 
“Don’t stop.” You lean into him and whisper in a lower tone, rolling your hips forward against his fingers as you hold them there harshly. “You can make me cum this way, right? I promise I’ll be quiet, just pretend Jay’s not here.”
Jake looks at you, darting his eyes to the sleeping Jay next to you, and then he slowly nods with a nervous swallow. 
He wants to fuck you so bad, but this is all he gets. Still, it’s more than he anticipated and he will be damned if he embarrasses himself by not getting you off like this. Gently, Jake keeps his eyes on Jay as he moves slightly over you, getting a better angle with his wrist so that he can quite literally, fuck you senseless with his fingers. 
With one hand on the couch over your shoulder, the other between your legs, you watch him as his eyes continuously dart between you and your boyfriend. Jake can’t watch the screen anymore considering he’s now faced away from it, he has to watch you. If this truly was a high-stakes session of pleasure, surely the two of you would be caught like this. 
Thankfully, Jake doesn’t notice the very aware hand of Jay gripping your leg open, which makes it more sexy. To see him put your pleasure over his friendship with your boyfriend so willingly, to position himself in such a way that is far more telling than it needs to be, yeah, he’s a fucking simp. 
“Oh, fuck–” You choke out, feeling Jake’s newly angled fingers plunge deeper into you. His knuckle bumps against your clit easily when he does this and it has your entire body jolting a bit. 
Jake swallows that praise, pulling his fingers out and pushing them back in at a quicker pace. The sound of your pussy is not quite as loud as the movie on the screen, but all three of you can hear it. Even Jay has to hold back a small moan at how genuine you sounded just now. His grip on your leg becomes almost bruising as his own arousal stirs past a comfortable level. 
Jake’s eyes aren’t shifting anymore, you notice. As you stare up at him, he stares right back at you. Seemingly forgetting that he’s supposed to be hyper-aware of his surroundings right now. Instead, Jake is noting the way your body slightly shifts up when he harshly pushes his fingers in, to the point he could nearly imagine he’s fucking you.
 Except if he were, he would hope to have you moaning more, moving more, fucking yourself on him, using him. 
You can practically see Jake lose himself to lust. His eyes are dark, and his messy is hair falling against his lashes as if he were the one being fucked out right now. Internally, you feel such a large amount of endearment over him. 
You think back to when he fucked his fist in the car. He was showing an extreme amount of intent during that moment and it had your head fucking spinning watching him do it. You can imagine he must be hard right now. Jay must be hard too. If you wanted to, you could expose Jay for being awake and ask them both to fuck you right now, but you relent. Relishing in this power of having them both, one more unaware than the other. It’s too sweet to put an end to so quickly. 
As you look back up at Jake, you want to kiss him. Jay never said anything about that but you assume that could actually be crossing a line, so you don’t. Against your own wishes of wanting to keep this a secret, you lean yourself to Jay who still tries to pretend he’s asleep. 
Jake watches and panics, but can already feel you grabbing his hand and forcing him to keep pace. The fear that runs through his bones of being caught is fucking intense right now, especially when you lean your head into Jay’s neck and start sucking it.
You can feel Jake try to pry his hand back and you chuckle at it with an unstoppable smile against your boyfriend’s neck because, well, now Jay moves his hand to replace yours. Now he’s the one forcing Jake to keep pace.
Jake’s eyes widened at the realization, relaxing his hand against the unfamiliar grip on it.
“Wait–” He says in a raspy voice, looking between the two of you as Jay peeps an eyes open. “How long have you been awake?”
Jay drops the act with a motion of slamming Jake’s fingers into you one last time before removing his grip and now grabbing yours to place against his embarrassingly hard length. 
“The whole time.” Jay glares at him. “Too late to stop now, go on.” He encourages, wincing at the way you instantly grip him through his pants. “Do as she asked, make her cum.”
Jake feels embarrassed again. Despite technically not actually being “ caught” , he still feels ashamed of what he was doing, yet, his fingers are still in you. 
“Let me see if you can do it,” Jay continues, adjusting his body so that he can look down at what Jake is doing. “Move the blanket, baby.” He adds as he looks at you now. 
Shoving the blanket down, Jake notes how your hand is palming against Jay, and his fingers are inside of you. For some reason, Jay being hard makes him feel a little less ashamed but still embarrassed. How is he supposed to perform under pressure like this?
“Stop looking at us like that. If you’re not gonna continue, I'll finish her off myself – without you, ” Jay half-insults, half-encourages his best friend. 
Jake moves his fingers again at that, the realization of being given permission washing over him so quickly that it almost felt like an orgasm running through his body. He can do whatever he needs to do to make you come. He doesn’t have to hide it, it’s not a secret. 
Without a second thought, Jake pulls himself off the couch and stands to his feet to get between your legs. He looks between the two of you one last time and then down at your pajama shorts. For the first time without asking, Jake pulls them off of you in one swift motion before falling to his knees and examining how wet you look, pulsing around the loss of his fingers. 
“How does she look?” Jay asks with a quirk of his brow, bucking his hips up against your hand and tilting his head to kiss you on the temple. 
Jake says nothing but swallows in response, forcing himself to focus on you and pretend that Jay isn’t there studying the way he fucks his fingers back into you. 
When you let out a small whine at his silence, rolling your eyes the same time you roll your hips, Jay chuckles and reaches to pull his own pajama pants down. If you three are gonna be doing this, might as well have fun with it. 
Jake ignores it still, using his fingers to spread your lips and watch your hole continue to clench around nothing when he slips his fingers back out. Even without seeing your face at this moment, he can see how much you want this. Your glistening folds are practically begging to be fucked by one of them, if not both. He makes haste, watching as your pussy envelopes three of his fingers at once now, clenching them so tightly that he can feel them crowd together inside of you. 
You whimper at it, rolling your hips forward to sink his fingers further into you. 
“Can I lick her?” Jake asks, not moving his eyes from the way he can see your slick drip down his fingers. 
”Please?”
“Does she want you to?” Jay counters, also not moving his eyes from the way your fist circles the head of his cock before sliding back down and making him shiver.
You don’t even answer, and instead use your other hand to reach for Jake’s head, gripping his hair that’s in reach to you and dragging his face forward until you feel his breath on your clit. 
Jake takes that as an invitation, instantly flattening his tongue against your swollen bud and sliding down. You can feel his fingers spreading you open, reaching into you so deeply as you begin to feel his tongue trace around his fingers at your entrance. 
You moan, which makes Jay turn his face and lift your chin as if to shut you up from showing pleasure towards another man. You find that sexy, cute even, so you reward your boyfriend and reassure him with a harsher grip against his cock, milking him of his precum and chuckling into his mouth.
Jake doesn’t even care about what’s happening on the couch. He’s on his knees in front of you, tasting you, fingering you, and he genuinely thinks this might be heaven. He can feel his own length adjust in his pants, happy that the loose fabric accommodates the growth to full hardness. Jake already knows he’s not going to be getting off tonight by anything other than his own hand, and he does not give a shit about it. 
He licks against you as if you are the last woman on earth, honestly, and Jay can’t even bring himself to be in competition with Jake at this moment considering how much attention you’re giving to him and not Jake. This could work, surely, he’s never seen you so horny over a simple handjob before. 
  You roll your hips against Jake’s mouth repeatedly, chasing your high as he continuously tries to accommodate every spot of your pussy that needs stimulation. 
“He’s good at this–” You choke out, reaching to grab Jake’s head and hold him in place against your clit. You can feel his fingers pick up speed when you do that, and you can feel the vibrations of his groans against your clit even more.
“Oh yeah?” Jay laughs in a breath, darting his eyes to see Jake’s shoulder flexing as he fucks into you, his hair a mess between your fingers. “Better than me?” 
You shake your head, eyes sparkling up at Jay as he finally leans down to whisper to you.
“Are you close? You seem close–”
You nod this time, rolling your eyes back a bit when Jake intentionally licks circles around your clit and pumps his fingers painfully fast into you. 
“Don’t tell him,” Jay warns, fucking himself against your now loosened grip. “Do you want me to take over?”
You say nothing back but Jay can see your body tense. He makes haste, jumping up from his spot and practically shoving Jake out of the way to get between your legs. 
Jake doesn’t even know what’s happening, the loss of your warmth around his fingers and the taste of you gone all too quickly as he watches Jay bottom out into you in one go. His best friend’s fingers replace what his tongue was doing, and Jake watches the way you lay breathlessly against the couch. 
Now is his time, he guesses. Reaching one hand into his pants, he shows no shame in using his slick-coated fingers to furiously slide up and down his length at a pace he wishes he were fucking you at.
There, on his knees, Jake pushes and pulls himself to the edge in time with you. He watches your face and watches the way your hands grip against Jay as he fucks into you at a pace that looks painful. The sound of slaps in the room coming from all three of you, finally, you come undone. 
He watches the way you hold Jay’s hips in place, burying himself into you as you quiver around him, and only then does Jake let out a choked moan, coating the inside of his pants with strings of thick, milky cum. 
Just as quickly as you hit your climax, your eyes lazily fall to Jake as he sits out of breath, wet spots staining his pants as Jay continues to chase his own high. 
  The two of you look at each other for a long moment. You can’t help but feel that he looks entirely sexy when he’s spent and empty of his arousal. You don’t sense a hint of disappointment in his eyes as he looks back at you, breath uneven, not at all bothered by the fact that he’s not the one fucking you.
Except he is bothered by it. He felt like he came so close to making you cum, all for Jay to step in and take over. Still, that’s your boyfriend. Jake feels lucky enough to even be part of this. And by the time Jay finally gets himself off, all three of you just look at each other. 
“So,” Jay sighs, out of breath. “She tastes good, right?” He smiles, proud of himself for not letting Jake make you come.
You playfully slap him with a laugh, shuffling from the couch and standing to your feet. You examine the wet spot from where you were being fucked open by both of them and smile at it. 
“Let’s go shower, again.” You sigh, grabbing Jay’s hand and dragging him to the bathroom.
Jake is left sitting there, still on his knees, processing what just happened. 
He could get used to this.
 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
By the third night, Jay is geared up and ready knowing full well that Jake has already touched you and he’s going to have to share tonight if your words are anything to go by. If you’re asking him to let Jake fuck you, it’s gonna have to be his way. 
Your eyes sparkled when Jay agreed in the silent morning as Jake slept like a fucking rock in the bed across the room. 
“Don’t worry,” You assured him. “I love you, I’m just having fun.”
“ I know.” Jay responded to you, silently and looking back at you. 
He didn’t worry so much about it after last night, anyway. He got more into it than he thought he would, and the competition of it all got both you and Jay off. Jake appears to be having fun too, and staying aware of the fake-ass boundaries the two of you set for him.
“Tonight?” You look to Jay and nod as you head off for the kitchen in an attempt to make something to eat for both of them.
“Tonight, if he’s willing.”  Jay confirms, ultimately stirring Jake from his sleep. 
“Good morning, you can sleep. She’s gonna make some food since we got her off or something.” Jay says towards Jake after you disappear from the doorway, lifting his arms and stretching his body out. 
“What were you guys talking about?” Jake asks half asleep as he hears your footsteps towards the kitchen fade away. The sleep in his voice is heavy and he clears his throat as he rubs his eyes. 
 “Nothing much. She wants to play a game later.” Jay tries not to ruin the plan. 
“Oh yeah, like what?” Jake sits up, reaching for his phone to check the time. 
“Probably monopoly or some shit.”
Jake notes that Jay appears to sound bored of the conversation, so he doesn’t push or pry any longer.
“We going to the beach today?” He asks now, somehow not feeling awkward at all about last night. It almost feels normal now. 
“Yeah, probably after we eat. Wanna go help her with me if you don’t plan to go back to sleep?”
Something inside of Jake swells up at the invitation from Jay to help you do mundane things. Boyfriendly things. As if the two of them are your boyfriends, and not just Jay.
 “Gonna brush my teeth first.”
Jay nods, giving Jake a tired smile as he heads off into the kitchen after you.
 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Jake isn’t sure if he’s thinking too hard about it or if he’s getting his hopes up. He’s a lover, not a fighter, and very much willing to share you if the two of you offered to involve him in the relationship with more than just sex. Cooking in the kitchen with the two of you made him happy. Jay was clearly in boyfriend mode, guiding you by the waist when you were wisping from one end of the kitchen to the other. Jake was also kind of in boyfriend mode, though the two of you probably didn’t catch on. It’s not that he’s trying to intrude, it’s just that, he kind of has a hard time fucking a woman and not having feelings after the fact.
When Jake said you looked pretty, Jay didn’t falter even a tiny bit at the compliment. Instead, he smiled at Jake with a nod because of fucking course you look pretty. And when Jay gave you a light kiss to the lips as you stirred something in a bowl, Jake found himself wanting to do the same. He knows he can’t though, so he keeps to himself in this little unsure bubble of what the two of you feel towards him. 
The food was decent, save for the fact that none of you have stepped foot in a grocery store and are surviving off of what you brought in a cooler from home. Jake could tell some of the vegetables were wilted and needed to be cooked, thankfully, none of you enjoy letting food go to waste so that’s why you’re stuck eating it this morning. 
It’s comfortable. Too comfortable. Especially when Jake takes it upon himself to do the dishes despite always arguing at home about doing them. Jay finds himself in a strange kind of headspace too. Lightening up about the idea of Jake being around and touching you, but also, like, still being possessive because you're super into it. If Jake was anyone else, Jay doesn’t think this trio thing would work out as well. Still, this is a conversation for after the trip. 
  By the time the three of you are at the beach, you make a show of yourself for both of them and anyone else who happens to be looking your way. If tonight goes anything like you want it to, you need them to be absolutely feral for you by the time the sun sets. 
It works for the most part. Ghosting your hand over Jake’s cock under the water, blatantly grabbing Jay’s out in the open just to see him buckle under the arousal of it being in public. You feel on top of the universe as their eyes go from bright to dark and full of arousal as the day goes on.
When you part from both of them, heading back to the shore in order to find a bathroom somewhere, the two of them stay behind. You do your best in giving those two alone time too because surely they need to talk or something.
That, they do. 
“She’s doing all of this on purpose, you know.” Jay laughs, wading in the water beside Jake. “How are you feeling about it?”
Jake shrugs, avoiding the incoming wave and lifting his chin with a wince. “I’m feeling less weird about it now, I guess.”
  Jay nods, looking at him and studying his expression. 
“She wants to fuck you.”
Jake can’t help but smile. He has no words to respond to what Jay just said. 
“Shockingly, I kind of want to see her do it.” Jay splashes Jake as if he’s mad, but stands back as his best friend wipes his eyes. 
“Yeah?” Jake’s eyes are beaming despite the redness of the saltwater hitting them, and Jay just stares at him.
“I don’t know man, I’ve never been into this kind of thing. Sharing, and such, but like–” Jay tries to explain, searching internally for a reason as to why he should hold onto the annoyance of sharing his girlfriend. “I don’t know.”
Jake tilts his head, looking at him. 
“It’s kind of fun?”
Jake nods this time. He’s still getting the short end of the stick but he literally couldn't care less. 
“I like watching and I like when you let me touch her.” Jake admits, glancing away and breathing in through an embarrassed wince over what he just said.
For some reason, that sentence arouses Jay. “When you let me touch her.” Jake is really giving full power to Jay to control a sex life that isn’t his and it’s embarrassingly sexy to be given that power over another man. He’s not entirely interested in Jake sexually, but he is entirely interested in Jake’s sexual interest for his girlfriend. Interested in controlling it. 
“This is going a lot further than we ever intended it to.” Jay comments, sinking himself lower in the water and thinking intently on what’s going to happen after the three of you get home. “Guess we will see what happens.” 
Jake quirks an eyebrow. 
“If I asked you to fuck her, would you?” Jay continues, in his head, about why he feels like all of this is okay to him now.
Jake narrows his eyes, wondering if it’s a trap but ultimately nods. 
“I mean, yeah, if you both told me to.” 
There’s the control again. Jake blatantly gives it up just to get the smallest taste of what you share with Jay. 
“And you wouldn’t do it behind my back? Like, be real with me right now.”
Jake knows he would probably be too weak to say no to you. He thinks you know it too.
“What makes you think she would go behind your back anyway?” Jake counters, challenging Jay’s trust in you.
And then it all makes sense. You wouldn’t go behind his back for anything that’s not agreed upon. You’d tell him everything, you’d involve him, or you’d at least ask if you can fuck his best friend behind closed doors. 
It all feels like it’s falling into place too perfectly, and that’s the only uncomfortable thing about this. Jay looks at Jake and then shifts his eyes over to the shore, where you’ve come back from your adventure to the bathroom. 
“Nah, you’re right.” Jay assures himself, standing back up and waving over to you. “Just keep in mind that she’s my girlfriend and I’ll be the one to make her cum.”
Jake is well aware that you’re not his, Jay doesn’t have to rub it in.
 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Though Jay never explicitly stated that Jake would be able to fuck you tonight, it became increasingly obvious as the day went on. Even as you blatantly touched him in front of Jay, he would simply avert his eyes from Jake and carry on with whatever he was doing.  
By the time the three of you got back to the house, Jake had to fucking fight himself to not jerk off in the shower. Clearly you were wanting to have fun again tonight if the sheer amount of touching throughout the day is any indication. 
The showers from all of you went by far too quickly to ignore as well. Jake thinks he beat his record speed of being out and dressed in under six minutes. You and Jay, opting to shower together, made Jake think the two of you would go in there and fuck behind closed doors, but even that didn’t happen as the two of you were leaving the bathroom in under fifteen minutes. 
Now, the three of you are in this beach house away from a city that is far too familiar to you. The air feels electric but also slightly awkward. You don’t know how to start, Jay certainly doesn’t know how to start, and Jake simply needs the green light to make his attempt at whatever the fuck is supposed to happen. It’s a knowing kind of look that the three of you share as you head into the bedroom one by one. Jake doesn’t know if he should get onto his own bed, or yours at this point considering he hasn’t exactly been told what’s supposed to happen. 
He didn’t have to think too hard though, as he trails in behind Jay who guides you to your own shared bed with him. Jake stands there in silence, watching the way both of you pat your hands on the bed as if to invite him in. 
“Shit, this is really happening?” He asks, almost wanting to cover his ears and cringe at the way he breaks the silence. Jay nods to him silently.
“If you want it to?” You ask, scooting closer to Jay and feeling him move a hand to your thigh. 
Jake is careful when he makes his way to the bed, glancing at both you and his best friend as if the gig would be up soon and you’d both start laughing at him for believing that this is happening. Instead, though, you adjust yourself and your boyfriend on the bed as Jake makes his attempt to find a space to claim for himself.
Now lying on your back, head on Jay’s lap as you both watch Jake, he sits himself awkwardly on the side of the bed and stares forward. 
“Bro, why are you all shy? You literally ate her out last night.” Jay laughs, trying to blame the nervousness all on Jake despite not knowing how to get the ball rolling himself at this point. Then, he’s reaching forward and over you to spread your legs out. Your bathrobe does little to hide the lack of material underneath, already bare and ready for both of the men in the room. 
“I don’t know–” Jake argues, glancing over at you and instantly drawing his eyes to what’s beneath the robe. He tries to look away with a gulp of whatever the fuck he was going to say next, but ends up double taking at the view of you being presented to him by Jay. “I’ve never done this before…” He trails off, voice coming to a whisper as he shamelessly stares and the arousal begins to take full hold of his body. 
You shift your hips a bit, as if to grind yourself against nothing to show that just like him, you can be desperate too. 
“Fuck,” Jake sighs out, shifting his body fully onto the bed and facing you. “I–”
“Go on.” Jay encourages, noting the way his friend is practically drooling at the image of you in front of him like this. Proud of himself for having a girlfriend so fucking alluring.
“Should I just,” Jake stops, looking at Jay and avoiding eye contact with you. “touch her? like, what are my limits?’ 
Jay honestly doesn’t care what he does as long as you want it but, what he’s damn sure won’t happen is Jake getting head from you. He can eat you out all he wants but your mouth is to never be on him in any way, shape, or form without being told to do it by Jay himself. 
“Help him out.” You comment, flicking your head back a bit to look at Jay from under your lashes. He smirks at you and responds with a small nod. 
“Remember, you can just tell us to stop if you change your mind.” Jay directs towards Jake as he leans forward and pulls him closer to you by his arm. 
Jake falls a bit, on all fours right between your legs as he stares down at your folds. He says nothing in response to Jay, now lost in the world of getting to taste you again and wondering how many more times he will be granted permission to do this. 
“Stick your tongue out and use it, Jake.” Jay demands in a slightly…off tone? One that seemingly makes fun of Jake for not having touched you yet. 
Jake listens, granting Jay a nice little ego boost as he hums from behind you at your sharp inhale when Jake kisses against your clit. Still, this is going to happen his way and if Jake thinks he can eat pussy well, he’s about to learn.
Jay leans forward, your body leaning with him as he harshly grabs Jake’s hair, pressing his lips against you harder, guiding his head up and down. “Stick your tongue out more–” Jay demands again, gripping his hair harder.
Strangely enough, Jake allows it. He sticks his tongue out the moment Jay demands it, and allows himself to be guided by the hair against your pussy. He groans out against you, tasting you again despite it not being of his own free will. Would Jake prefer eating you out the way he wants to? Absolutely. Does the feeling of having his head guided between your legs also kind of get him off? Oh, fuck yeah. All he has to do is imagine it’s your hand doing it. 
You, however, watch as Jay pulls Jake up, still by the hair, and looks at him. 
“Tongue fuck her, I’ll take care of the rest.” He says, releasing Jake and watching the way he sinks down between your legs again. 
Making it easier for him, you prop your legs on his shoulders, ultimately boxing Jake in against your wet and glistening hole. It isn’t long before you feel his tongue circling, inserting against your walls. It’s not a lot to go off of, but god he looks so good between your legs like this. The image only gets better when Jay unties the loose knot of your robe and pinches against one of your nipples, his other hand going straight to your clit and rubbing it just the way you like. 
“Can you cum like this for him?” Jay asks against your ear, holding you against him with his hand still playing against your nipple. “Let him really taste you?” 
You nod to him with a moan, shifting your hips as if to fuck yourself on Jake’s tongue. Each pinch against your nipple sends a sensation straight to where you’re being stimulated the most, and yeah, you can definitely cum on Jake’s tongue if he keeps trying to reach as deeply as he is now. 
Jay’s fingers are expert when it comes to your body, he could have you falling apart right here, right now if he wanted to, but he doesn’t. He watches, instead, the way you tighten your legs around Jake’s head to pull him in closer. The way his best friend doesn’t even come up for air is laughable, but he gets it. 
It’s the fact that for the first time, Jay kind of enjoys the idea of a man touching what’s his, solely because he can see how badly they want it. Knowing that he, himself, can do it whenever he wants and they can’t.
When your boyfriend rubs your clit faster, it has you chasing Jake’s tongue harder , and when you chase Jake’s tongue, he makes a point to lick every crevice you have to offer in order to entice moans and groans of his name from your mouth. 
When you start to tense up, Jay knows exactly what it means. He lurches forward again and pulls Jake away from you, reaching back just as quickly to rub your clit harder.
“Watch her cum,” Jay smiles, abusing your clit just the way you love it until your legs are shaking and falling from Jake’s shoulders. “Keep your tongue out.”
“Shit–” Jake sighs out, watching your cunt drip out its continuous orgasm. Without any indication from the two of you, he takes the risk and dips back down, tongue lapping up the mess of your arousal and humming against your folds in a beautiful and desperate mantra.
“Oh god–” You choke out, jolting from the sensitivity of his tongue toying with you, Jay continuing to press your orgasm further, not relenting even as sensitivity takes hold. 
Jake licks up every single bit of it and Jay watches him, feeling you continuously quiver in his grasp as you come down from the high. 
“Now, fuck her.” Jay smiles knowingly, looking down at you and the way you already look dazed.
Jake shoots his head up to look at Jay, instantly he’s nodding and practically throwing his pants off. A true desperate show of how much he wants to be inside of you. 
Both you and Jay examine Jake when he pulls his cock out. You’ve seen it before but never in its full glory. He’s big. 
Jay glances down at you with an ‘are you sure you wanna do this?’ look and all you can do is chuckle and wiggle your hips as if to entice Jake to fuck you so senseless that Jay appears to be jealous again. It wouldn’t take much, really, because Jay is jealous right now. He needs to make damn sure you know that his cock is the only one that can make you scream, regardless of length, or whatever. He’s still thicker than Jake is.
Jake watches the two of you share looks and instantly gets a bit shy, doesn’t change the fact that he’s gently jerking himself off in preparation though.
“Condom?” Jake asks, obviously.
“No,” You say, nudging him closer again with your leg. “Im on the pill and you live with us, I know for a fact that you haven’t been fucking around.”
More shy now, Jake averts his eyes as he shuffles his way closer, all the way until he can feel his cock pressed against your leg. In one last attempt before he goes off the deep end, he looks to Jay for approval and is granted it almost instantly with a nod. 
He slides in, painfully slow in your opinion, but to Jake it’s like he’s trying to feel each ridge, clench, and wall around him as he does it. You wince only a little at the size, taking a deep breath and grabbing Jay’s hand when he bottoms out. 
Jake attempts to let you adjust, but it doesn’t go as smoothly as he wants to because the second he pulls his hips back, he’s slamming into you with a force he didn’t even know he had. The sounds you let out as he does this has Jay going fucking insane, you can feel his cock against your back continuously twitching as Jake fucks into you. 
Only when you keep your eyes on his best friend does Jay move from under you, replacing himself with two pillows as he stands at your side. 
“Stop looking at him like that,” He demands, lowering his pants enough to let his cock spring free and in front of your face. “Look at me.” He continues, stroking himself as he stares down at you.
This is what you want. You want them to fight for your attention right now. Thankfully to Jay, Jake is in his own world, head thrown back as he continuously plunges into you with the obvious need of a man who hasn’t had sex in months. 
You stare up at Jay then allow your eyes to fall to his pulsing and raging length in his hand, without hesitation you open your mouth for him.
“Good girl,” He praises, setting his cock on your tongue and allowing you to feel the weight of it before he slowly slides further into your mouth. “How does it feel to be fucked from both ends?” Jay asks with a bit of a demeaning tone. “Is it everything you ever wanted?” He asks again, this time sliding further down your throat before taking hold of your head and holding it in place. 
You have no reason to answer his questions, because he already knows the answer judging from the sound of how wet you are. He can fucking hear it. 
“I bet it is.” He continues through a sigh, effectively fucking your mouth open much like his best friend is doing to your pussy. 
One thing Jake doesn’t seem to catch onto is the fact that both you and Jay are talkers during sex. Jake, not so much, so when your mouth is gagged by a cock, he has no choice but to listen to Jay talk to you. 
Jake’s hips stutter only slightly when you gag around your boyfriend, all because that gag appears to travel down your body. Your cuntclenches him so tightly that he could honestly start crying right now if it wouldn't end with him being made fun of. 
So fucking tight, practically choking him out by the cock. 
“Do that again–” Jake pleads, gripping your legs and spreading them away from his hips. He angles himself a bit more by placing both hands under your ass and pressing into you again, this time stilling his hips so he can feel your walls jerk him off. 
Jay smirks, not knowing what the fuck Jake is referring to. 
“Do what again? Gag her?” He asks, jolting his hips forward and again sliding down your throat.
 You gag, and your pussy constricts.
“Goddamn, yes, that.” Jake chokes out in a sigh, trying to press his cock into you even deeper. 
Jay looks down at you and the way your eyes start to glisten with tears. He knows they’re good tears, especially with the way you try to smile around his cock. 
“So dirty,” He compliments, sliding out of your mouth and wiping a tear from your cheek. “This okay?” He continues, knowing you like it, but he still needs to get that confirmation considering this is new to all three of you. 
You nod with a moan and a deep breath, grabbing his drenched length and sinking it straight back down your throat. Jay seethes a string of curses when you do that. You’re too fucking good at deep-throating and it’s driving him up a fucking wall how hot you are right now. 
Being fucked open is one thing, but being fucked open from both ends is another. Even with Jake practically cockwarming himself in you, you can feel how rock hard he is with each twitch and aroused pulse, his length consistently putting pressure against your g-spot. God, you feel so full.
Jay elicits gags from you again, pulls out so you can breathe, and then goes right back to fucking your mouth at his own pace. Jake, on the other end, has since lost all form of self control with your last gag. You’re dripping around him, clenching him so fucking tightly, he can’t help it when he grips your ass firmly and essentially gags you himself with how hard he begins to piston his hips. Even Jay is thrown off by the way you stop sucking and your mouth goes slack.
He slides out of your mouth, listening as a drawn out moan of Jake’s name comes from your lips. 
“Look at her–” Jay glares, forcing Jake to slow his hips and look at you. “Look at how good you’re making her feel.” He adds again, only slightly more aroused than he is threatened by your expression. 
Jake is looking, watching as your eyes fall to him and you buck your hips up as if to ride yourself on him. 
“God, please Jay, can she ride me?” Jake loses composure, slipping his hands out from under your ass and grabbing your waist. 
Jay doesn’t even get to answer the firm “no” he was intending because he can see you look at him with pleading eyes just like his best friend. It sucks to have all of this power but still not be able to say no to those pretty fucking, tear stained eyes when you look at him like this. What’s worse?
The way Jake is looking at him is arguably…just as fucking hot.
And so, Jay bows his head in approval and wonders when the fuck he became the third wheel in his own relationship, that is, until you sit yourself up, push Jake back, and settle yourself on his thighs. 
You don’t move as you look at your boyfriend, your pleading eyes now turning to concern as he stands by himself off of the bed. For some reason, it comforts him. 
Jay smiles at you softly, kind of like a small confirmation that he’s doing just fine, and then moves forward to further that confirmation for you.
“She takes it so well, right?” Jay averts his eyes to Jake, getting behind you on the bed and settling down with his cock in hand. “Go on, ride him, baby.”
So you do, rolling your hips forward and backwards in a way that has Jake slipping in and out of you with ease. He can feel you drip onto his legs and honestly, he’s in fucking heaven right now as he places both hands on your thighs and stares directly at his cock disappearing inside of you. 
It’s a shame really, considering being ridden is one of Jake’s weaknesses. 
“Can I cum in her?” Jake blurts mindlessly, his hips attempting to fuck into you despite your weight on him keeping his hips down. “Jay, please? Can I cum in her?” 
His questions come out frantic, pleading for the ability to release his control and absolutely let you fuck him into oblivion, but he waits, now halting your hits from moving as if to contain the load he’s about to release without permission. 
“What if I say no?” Jay laughs, gripping his cock and watching the way Jake twitches inside of you. 
You move your hips again, a small chuckle lightly coming out alongside Jay as Jake hits rock bottom and somehow spirals further down. 
“Shit, shit!” Jake groans, urging you to lift up a bit as he painfully begins to slam into you.
Jay can hear his cum seeping out of you with each plunge of his cock, he can see it spurt out of you and down Jake’s legs. God damn it’s way hotter than he anticipated it being. 
Without a second thought Jay is pulling himself up and positioning himself behind you. He doesn’t say a word as he presses the small of your back forward so that your tits press against Jake’s face, and prods his cock at your entrance. Right there beside Jake, he slides in with an uncomfortable stretch. 
“This is how you fuck my girlfriend.” Jay groans, feeling your pussy hug around his cock and his best friend’s. He can already feel Jake going soft from the recent orgasm, but he doesn’t relent. Jay starts moving his hips regardless, fucking Jake’s released load back into you with an impossible stretch.
Honestly, Jay is on cloud 9 listening to both of you whine and moan. Neither of you stopping him, and even Jake finds the sensitivity of his cock being fucked against as insanely pleasurable as it is painful. 
You’re staring down at Jake when you slightly lift, and he’s looking up at you as Jay continuously stimulates you both. At this moment, you’re both in this together and Jay has full control. Deserving control, you think. Smiling at Jake, you drop your head to his neck and start talking. 
“You felt so good,” You praise him, moaning at the way Jay slams into you. “Can you get hard again?”
Jake simply nods because he cannot, for the life of him, think of words right now. He’s already feeling his arousal coming back to him. Even Jay feels it, in the way his softening cock manages to get hard again within mere minutes. He’s never been able to get hard again that quickly, but then again, Jake was practically pussy starved so he doesn’t question it. 
The fit inside of you grows tighter and tighter as Jake’s cock wakes up to the overstimulation, all the way until all three of you are wincing at the drag of Jay continuously fucking into you. The sound of moans, slick, and heavy breathing is all that can be heard when Jake moves his hips at an opposite rhythm of Jay. 
“Oh, fuck yes–” Jay moans, throwing his head back and looking down at how stretched open you are with two cocks stuffed inside of you. “You’re doing so good, so fucking good–” He babbles on, praising you, or Jake, he doesn’t even know at this point. 
Overstimulated, his cock feels as though your cunt has a death grip on it as he continues to squeeze along size Jake’s length, your wet and sore walls clenching them so tightly that Jay barely has to move at all to feel like he’s fucking the daylights out of you. 
Jake’s small thrusts only push the orgasm to the edge for both you and Jay. The head of Jake’s cock drags alongside Jay’s with each thrust and it has him nearly gasping for air when his orgasm hits him.
Jake hasn’t stopped moaning since Jay fit himself into you, nor have you. Who has control in this situation? Not a single person, not even Jay, as he frantically bottoms himself out and shoots his cum against the impossibly tight space inside of you. Jay’s orgasm ignites yours, your g-spot having been stimulated this entire time, you nearly squeeze so hard that they both are forced out of you, but they fight the sensation, continuing to bury themselves into you through your high.
Pained gasps drag on and all you can feel are fingertips both clawing and squeezing at you when you release around them, squeezing both of them tighter, and tighter, until Jay has no choice but to slip his spent cock out of you. 
You slump over instantly, your walls fitting themself back around Jake’s still hard length inside of you.
Jake struggles to orgasm again, unsure of if he has any cum left after the first one, so he pulls out of you the moment Jay shoots a look at him, as if to tell him to stop. Still in his aroused state of mind though, Jake practically shoves you back onto Jay as he works himself up to whatever orgasm he has left by his own hand. 
It takes a moment, but you feel his second load hitting against your thighs not long after and all that’s left to do now is assess the damage.
 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
There was no damage. Even as Jay apologetically begs you to tell him the truth. To tell him he went too far, or was too rough. You liked it, and you hate that you have to convince him of it. 
“You sure you’re okay?” Jay asks, kissing you once on the back of your neck after you nod with a dazed smile. “And you?” Jay averts his eyes to Jake, who is sprawled out regaining his breath at the foot of your bed.
“I’m great, actually.” He says, looking over to Jay with a dopey kind of smile. 
“You’re both insane.” Jay finally releases a breath of relief, realizing how much you and his best friend have in common sexually.
It’s…weirdly endearing, making his heart swell at the way both you and Jake look at him expectantly. Like still, he has control over all three of you. 
“You didn’t like it?” You ask, and Jake nods along with your question to look at Jay.
“Of course I fucking liked it.” 
“Then what’s the issue?” Jake asks, sitting himself up now and pretending he doesn’t get a headrush almost instantly. 
Jay thinks hard about it. Is there even an issue? Did he ever expect to actually share his girlfriend with Jake this way? Of course not, but it doesn’t change the fact that all three of you enjoyed every bit of that. Plus, Jake doesn’t appear to be super competitive and listens to everything Jay says to do. 
Who wouldn’t be turned on by that kind of control anyway?
 ・・・・・・ EPILOGUE  ・・・・・・
Jake has become a constant fixture in your sexual relationship with Jay now, but he doesn’t step out of line much to Jay’s pleasure. Even now, months down the road from the beach vacation, all three of you came to terms with the fact that Jake wants to stay, and so do the two of you. 
Rent is split three ways, you’re split two ways, but you get it all. Truly, you feel like you have the best end of this bargain. Even now, Jay tends to have more private sex with you as if to avoid constantly living in the world of kinks and pushing boundaries. You enjoy it. You love sharing moments with him without Jake around, and even when Jake does walk in on it, he doesn’t stay most of the time because now, when it’s meant to be for all three of you, Jake is blatantly invited. He knows now that any sex he isn’t aware of isn’t for him, despite it being the complete opposite from before. 
It’s a comfortable kind of thing. Even if the three of you don’t talk about it outside of these walls, it’s what you like, it’s what they like. Even Jay has loosened up a bit more about you and Jake together. It’s not like you’re dating him, but your boyfriend has actually implied you go busy yourself with Jake when he’s exhausted or too tired to fuck you himself. If anything, when you do go and busy yourself with Jake, Jay usually ends up watching anyway. 
“Jake,” Jay says from across the room after yet another session of cuckolding his girlfriend and best friend. “I hope you know that she’s still my girlfriend and I will always be the one to fuck her better.”
“You’re really gonna say that after I just made her cum twice before you even got your cock out?” Jake laughs. 
“She’s my girlfriend.” Jay glares but Jake can see his smile.
“I know. You keep her happy.” Jake drops the playful act and decides to genuinely let Jay know. 
“Unfortunately, your cock is required for her happiness sometimes.”
“No, his cock is required for fun. You are required for my happiness.” You interject, reminding them that you’re literally still in the room, heaving from your third orgasm.
“And that’s why this little arrangement works out.” Jay agrees, lifting himself to kiss you. “Only I get your love and affection. Jake just gets 30% of your orgasms.”
“10% of yours too, apparently.” Jake shifts his eyes to Jay.
Jay does remember the few times he’s let Jake fuck you and grew so aroused by how you act with his best friend in contrast to himself, that yeah, he guesses he can give Jake and his huge cock some credit for making him cum a few times, but really, it’s because he’s seeing his girlfriend stretched out and cock stupid, definitely because they both whine in unison over him. 
At the end of the day, it’s cute, especially because Jake can still never fuck you as good as he will. You may be cock-stupid for his size, but you’re cock-drunk for how Jay works it inside of you.
And so, it appears that Jay is in a happy relationship with you, a healthy one. One where he’s perfectly comfortable cleaning his best friend’s cum out of you.
 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
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jazzyoranges · 2 months
Note
heyy i love how well written your works are, and i was wondering if there could be another tara carpenter x gp reader?? an enemies to lovers kinda thing, smut/fluff but it is totally up to you!! thankss❤️
All Mine
Tara Carpenter x gp!reader
Words: 2.8k
A/n: thank you!! also kind of a combination of this request and a prompt in this request
Warnings: reader has a penis, hate fuck? i think?, bottom!T, top!R, explicit sex, implication of breeding kink, teasing (lots of it), unprotected sex (your pullout game is weak), implication of alcohol consumption, no ghostface au
MINORS DNI!!
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Tara hates three things in her life. You, hairless cats, and soggy bread. In that order too
She could handle hating hairless cats and soggy bread, but you? You were in Tara’s friend group. Tara hated you and to make matters worse, she was the only one that did
You were nerdy like Wes and Ethan, quick-witted and funny like Mindy and Amber, athletic like Chad, charismatic like Quinn, protective like Sam, and (allegedly) nice like Anika. You had nearly every one of her friends best traits, but Tara knew why she didn’t like you. You were really fucking annoying
Along with all of your positive traits, you were loud and obnoxiously social. Not that Tara was antisocial or anything, but god you were on a whole other level. It was mildly infuriating how you could go to a party you knew nobody at and somehow come out with more friends than you started with
All those people and you decided Tara was the one you’d annoy. A nudge to her shoulder made Tara look up from where she was putting her head down
“You look like shit” The brunette doesn’t respond and puts her head back down on the table
“Sam tase someone without your permission again?” Tara could practically hear the smirk in your voice
“Please for the love of god shut the fuck up. Your voice is the last thing I need to hear today”
“Woah, someone’s mad” You stick out your tongue in response at the glare Tara sends your way
“Suck my dick, (Y/n).”
“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Carpenter”
Tara abruptly leaves the lecture room. You think you really fucked up this time, but let out a breath of relief when you see that Tara didn’t grab her things. She was probably going to the bathroom to escape you. Which, who would ever want to escape you?
Apparently not Tara because she’s back in her seat just a few minutes before the lecture starts
“Aspirin?” You grab the bottle from a pocket in your bag, shaking it next to her
“You have Aspirin laying around?”
“Anika told me you were at a party, I figured it’s the least I could do”
“You’re trying to drug me, aren’t you?”
“If I was trying to drug you, I would’ve offered it to you at the end of class”
“Why weren’t you at the party?” Tara asks, taking the bottle from you hands and shaking out two tablets before downing them with some water
“Missed me?”
“Nope, just surprised you weren’t blackout drunk”
“Good to know you think highly of me. I was studying, thank you”
“You? Study?” Tara scoffs
“Don’t act like the idea is so out of this world”
“Right, because last time I remember you passing up a party was because your betta fish died and you forced all of us to have a funeral for him at the park”
“Trout’s death is not one to be made fun of!”
Before Tara can respond, the professor starts talking and the lesson begins. Unfortunately her head is still kind of throbbing with only mildly wanting to throw up. She had to accept she wasn’t going to get anything done until that Aspirin kicked in. Especially when she can feel you staring at her
The class goes as smoothly as it can and you notice Tara hasn’t made an effort to even try to take notes. The lesson eventually ends and when everyone gets up, the brunette begrudgingly does too
You bump your shoulders together and Tara glares at you with enough power you actually manage to feel fear for a split second until you realize it’s Tara. The girl was like two apples tall. Two and a half on a good day
The brunette doesn’t realize you were handing her a paper so you physically have to place it in her hand. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion
“What is this?”
“Notes, you need them”
“I’m not buying you Raising Canes if that’s what you want”
“Since I’m such a good friend, I’ll give it to you free of charge. Just make sure to bring it back with minimal damage”
“You’re not gonna make me Paypal you fifty bucks?” Tara doesn’t have any classes for the next few hours so you two made a point to walk to your next class. She didn’t know how it started, but you were okay to talk to when you weren’t being annoying
“In my defense, Trout recently died”
“We buried him in the fucking park, I don’t think that costs money”
“It was condolence money. I made everyone pay and I think it was pretty genius”
“I really do wonder how you still have friends”
//-//
Someone knocks on the door of you and Anika’s apartment. When you realize your roommate is probably listening to music that was too loud to be healthy, you get up from your very comfortable bed
You don’t remember ordering food and you’re pretty sure Anika didn’t invite Mindy over, so the person behind the door was probably just the nice old lady across the hall that made cookies for everyone
For better or for worse, you’re met with a Tara Carpenter that’s caught off guard when you open the door. Tara usually sees you in well put together outfits so you can only imagine her surprise when she sees you wearing boxers that outlined your cock and a hoodie that barely covered it up
“Eyes are up here- What brings you to the Mojo Dojo Casa House?”
“Can’t you just let me in?” Tara’s cheeks burn in embarrassment. Thank god you just glossed over… it
“It’s protocol you identify yourself and state why you’re here” You lean on the doorframe, actively blocking the entrance to your apartment. Tara knew this was a losing battle and hated how you looked hot while winning
“Anika and I have a project we need to work on”
“You didn’t identify yourself” you’re wearing that same dumbass smirk you have after telling a horrible joke
“Tara. Tara fucking Carpenter.”
“Unfortunately I don’t think we know any Tara Fucking Carpenters. Guess you can’t come in” you shrug
“God give me patience.” Tara rubs at her temples like you’re giving her a headache
“Isn’t it god give me strength?”
“If god gave me strength, you would be dead.”
“Point taken, but you still need a password”
“You didn’t say anything about a password!”
“Yeah, well, I don’t know if you’re the real Tara or not. Say a fact about me only the real Tara would know”
The brunette pretends to think for a moment, even putting her hand on her chin and looking off into the distance for effect. When she notices you’re starting to get suspicious of her antics Tara pushes you though the door, successfully getting in without a password or confirmation
You stumble back almost like a cartoon character and you can hear Tara let out a small laugh. You can see the dimples on her cheeks whe she tries to cover it up with her hand
“Nika, your friend’s here!” You lead Tara to Anika’s room, making sure to knock loudly while Tara’s busy either checking you out or trying to blow you up with her mind. It’s unclear, but you have to lean towards the latter
“Isn’t Tara your friend too?” Your roommate opens the door, headphones around her neck
“No.”
“Yes.” Both of you say in unison. The look you give each other is almost comical with how Tara’s glaring while you’re smiling. Anika stares blankly between you two and it eventually starts to make more sense
“Stop eye fucking each other, we have work to do” Anika pulls Tara into her room. You shrug, heading off to probably yell at ten year olds on Fortnite or something
“We were not eye fucking” the shorter girl huffs, sitting on Anika’s bed
“I literally opened my door and thought you two were about to make out”
“I didn’t expect to get interrogated when I came here!” Tara flops onto her back, covering her eyes and trying (and failing) to stop the red that dusted her cheeks
“Whatever, I’ll get you to crack later”
“Kill yourself.”
//-//
Tara doesn’t understand what she’s feeling when she sees some random girl grind against you
It’s like that one scene in Euphoria when Maddy and Nate stare each other down at the school dance, except you were looking far more more bored. That is, until you see Tara glaring at both of you
Like a switch turned on, you’re suddenly more interested in the girl. You encourage her grinding with a hand kneading her hip, using your other hand to take a sip of your drink. And just like Maddy, she’s tempted to find Chad to do the same to you. She doesn’t.
Tara fucking hated you. But she also needed you now.
Making you jealous would take too long. In theory she had the time, but her hunger to taste you was making her do things she would’ve never thought of before. One of those things being grabbing your hand and leading you away from any girl that tried to even look at you.
The girl who was grinding on you calls her a bitch among other things, but Tara knows it’s worth it when she sees you smile at her like she’s your entire world. Because she was your entire world
She leads you into an empty guest bedroom of the house, locking the door before getting close enough to you she can smell the alcohol in your breath
“What’s all this about, Tar?” You grin. Tara doesn’t know if she wants to kiss or slap that smirk right off of your annoying face
“You know what this is fucking about.”
“Do I? I think you should spell it out for me.”
“You know, I’ve had it with your attitude.” Tara jabs a finger at your chest, the back of your knees hitting the end of the bed. In one motion you sit down and bring Tara down with you. You make her sit on your cock
“Anyone ever tell you you’re fucking hot when you’re mad?” You smile, finding the blush on Tara’s cheeks absolutely adorable
“Only you.”
“Good. How about we keep it that way, baby?”
“You’re so annoying.” The brunette cups your face with both of her hands, your lips fitting together like they were always meant to
“I know I am” You say in between kisses, your hands finding their way up Tara’s shirt, kneading the spot right under her boob. She forces your hand to stimulate her nipple, eliciting a moan from her mouth
“You’re so pretty, Tar. I can’t believe only I get to see you get all hot and bothered” You smile breathlessly
“Fuck. S-Stop talking like that or you’ll make me like you” Biting a hickey on Tara’s neck, you take of her shirt and her bra in a flurry of heat
“I bet you’ll like me even more when you’re bouncing on my cock” You force Tara to grind on the bulge in your pants, earning you a small whimper that makes you smile
“C’mon, all you have to do is admit you like me and I’ll fuck you better than anyone has” It should be considered torture how much you were teasing Tara. You were biting hickeys on her neck, playing with her nipples, all while a few layers of fabric were the only barriers between your dick and her pussy. Fuck you knew how to overstimulate a girl
Laying Tara on on the bed, you could really tease the brunette better in this position. You can feel the Tara’s wetness through her soaked panties, and you’re sure she can feel the pre-cum leak out of your cock. Your hands are on her hips as if you were thrusting, yet you deny her and your pleasure for the sake of being an ass
“Don’t you want me to ruin you for anyone else? I promise I’ll stretch you out so good no other guys’ cock can fill you up like me.”
“Fuck you. I hate you, you’re s-such a fucking asshole, you know that?” Tara reaches for anything she can hold onto, your arms being the nearest thing
“I can think ways you could ‘hate’ me even more” You smile when Tara reaches to take off her panties but you find her hands first. You intertwine your hands together and the action is so soft Tara almost forgets about the situation she’s in. Almost
“Whenever I masturbate I think of you, did you know that? God, sometimes I have these hookups and all I can think about is you cumming around my cock”
Tara thinks it’s embarrassing how she’s about to cum just by your sickeningly sweet voice and the constant friction between you two. Tara also thinks she’d rather die than miss an opportunity of a lifetime.
Sure you were a cocky pain in the ass, but you were her cocky pain in the ass.
“Fuck- I admit it! I think you’re the hottest fucking person in the world. I like you.” Tara looks straight into your eyes, and the smile reserved only for her makes another appearance
“That wasn’t so hard, was it Tar?”
“I still hate you.” You unbuckle your belt and unbutton and unzip your jeans with watchful eyes. You pull down your boxers just enough so that your cock springs out, making Tara’s mouth water. Fuck you were big
Pulling Tara’s panties to the side, she’s dripping wet when you swipe your finger across her slit
“Fuck- (Y-Y/n)” Tara sings when you lick up her juices with your tongue. She buries her hands in your hair, bringing you closer to her dripping cunt. You moan at her taste and the vibrations are almost enough to get Tara to cum. Almost
You rise to your knees, lining up your dripping cock with the shorter girls dripping pussy. You decide to be evil and rub your dick against her slit before easing your tip into her hole. It was infuriating how slow you were going and Tara remembers why she hated you in the first place
Tara’s whining and whimpering under you and you can’t remember a time where you’ve been happier than in this moment
Tara on the other hand, has never hated you more in her life than in this moment
The younger Carpenter decides to be bold when she grabs your shirt and forces you forward. You’re caught off guard and over half of your cock finds itself nestled tightly in her pussy as you catch yourself with your arms
“Y-You’re sneaky, aren’t ‘cha” With your face so close to hers, Tara realizes you’re as much of a victim to your teasing as she is. She can tell it’s taking everything inside of you not to fuck her raw until your dick is limp and Tara’s legs are sore
“You can go fast. I can handle it, baby” Tara cups your face with her hand, stroking your cheek with such softness like you aren’t literally lodged into her cunt like a dog in heat
With that confirmation, you give Tara a peck on the lips and buck your hips in such a way you hit that spongey spot inside of her
The sound of skin slapping is louder than the blasting music downstairs, but your grunting and Tara’s moaning combined are louder than both. Thank god the owner of the house was your friend because you don’t know if you could come out of that room if this is what Tara sounded like
“Fuck- I’m close” You say a little too breathlessly for your liking
“Don’t p-pull out.” The shorter girl uses your shirt as leverage to keep you inside of her. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion
“T-Too messy, don’t feel like cleaning up.” Tara answers between moans like she can read your mind
The familiar heat you’re so used to finally snaps. Wrapping her legs around yours, you cum with almost a guttural whine. Your orgasm is enough for Tara to have hers and you fuck her through it, making sure none of your cum drips out of her hole
You pull out and a few dribbles of your semen flow out of her cunt. You plug her pussy with your fingers and Tara is far too sensitive to handle it
“D-Don’t tell me you’re tired already?” Tara jokes, but all air in her lungs leave when you let out a laugh of your own
“I’ve got all night, love.”
Tara has to remember to make you buy her a morning after pill.
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lightseoul · 10 months
Text
cw. gn!reader, worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), pining lmao (if you look extra closely)
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“You’re late.”
At the sound of the pro-hero’s all-too-familiar gruff voice, you freeze, ass barely touching the chair you were about to sit on.
From where he sits across from you, Bakugou is now scowling.
Great, you think to yourself. Twenty seconds in and you’ve already triggered the beast.
“Sorry,” you say with the most apologetic smile you can muster. “Something urgent came up.”
At that, his scowl deepens, and his eyes seem to search for something as they flicker over your features. You feel yourself getting warm under the intensity of his gaze.
Three years of working under him and it still flusters you—being studied so blatantly by the #2 Pro-Hero, Bakugou Katsuki.
“What possibly could’ve been more urgent than an important meeting with your fucking boss?”
You internally scoff at his tactlessness, though you manage to seem unfazed on the outside. At the very least, the three years of being the HR head of the Dynamight agency have taught you how to deal with a certain someone.
Bakugou’s eye twitches so minutely, probably out of annoyance brought by the feigned innocence written all over your face.
You could lie and let the conversation move forward. But you’re feeling a little reckless, still reeling from that damned phone call you had a few minutes ago.
So you tell him the truth.
“I just got dumped over the phone.”
You expected a disinterested harrumph in response, not a choking fit over the ice-cold water he just downed.
You jump on your feet, circling the table to—supposedly—gently pat his back. Before you do so, though, you hesitate, hand awkwardly frozen mid-air, wondering for a second if touching any part of your boss’s body could put you in HR danger.
Once you gathered practically everyone in the restaurant’s attention and Bakugou has stopped coughing, you hesitantly circle back and sit on your chair.
“Are you okay?” you ask, as he wipes his mouth angrily with his napkin.
“‘m fine,” he croaks, not meeting your gaze for a moment before finally looking you in the eye.
He looks like he has something to say, but his words never come. His mouth merely opens and closes ever so slightly, you could’ve missed it if you weren’t staring at it.
Why are you staring?
“Great,” you shoot him a smile, grabbing one of the menus and thumbing through the decidedly sticky pages.
A pause.
“...You could’ve canceled, you know.”
At the sound of his uncharacteristically quiet voice, you look up, surprised.
“What?”
He sighs, probably irritated by your confusion. “You could’ve canceled the meeting,” he explains, “I would’ve understood.”
You can’t help but smile at him, the feeling of gratitude blooming in your chest. At the sight of it, he looks away, solemn.
“A commitment is a commitment,” you reply. “We already blocked off the hour to meet with the restaurant owner, and I don’t want to waste your precious time off patrol.”
“...Even though you just got dumped?”
Your heart throbs painfully at the mention of what just happened to you, but you quickly school your expression into a neutral one.
“Especially because I just got dumped.”
He chuckles. “What, you the type to throw yourself into work when life gets extra shitty?”
You playfully roll your eyes at his jab. “Don’t act like you don’t do that yourself, Bakugou-san.”
“I wasn’t,” he defends, smirking as he leans back against his seat. “Was just curious.”
Before you can even register what he just said, a waiter suddenly appears to your right, startling the both of you.
Bakugou then proceeds to order for himself, and as he does so, you study his face despite yourself, heart weirdly thrumming at the implications of what was just said.
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“Make sure to have the report ready by 5 PM tomorrow,” he says, breaking the silence as you walk towards where he parked his car. “‘m planning to stop by the office to read it before the night shift starts.”
“Got it.”
Before you know it, you’ve already arrived. Despite yourself, your heart sinks at the thought of going home. Whether it’s because you literally just got dumped unceremoniously or because the surprisingly pleasant meeting is coming to an end, you don’t know.
Bakugou turns to face you, a hand in his pocket and the other fiddling with his keys. “You sure you don’t need a ride?”
You nod. “The bus station is just a few blocks away.”
A silence falls upon you.
Again—there’s that serious look on his face as he studies you so intensely, it almost feels like scrutinizing. You’ve always felt vulnerable under Bakugou’s sharp gaze, but today it’s been extra piercing.
Finally accepting that it’s the end of the day and it’s time to go home, you nod again—more cheerfully this time—before you turn to leave.
You’re about a few feet away from him when he calls your name.
“For what it’s worth,” he semi-shouts, “it’s that dumbass’ loss.”
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tagging. @katsukis1wife @rinalou @loverboyrin @brunnetteiwik @beabe19
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tojipie · 10 months
Note
can i request y/n’s reaction to toji going to jail? like was she there for the arrest.. how did toji break the news?
partial continuation to this ask !
his crime is finally revealed ! mwahaaha. if i printed out every comment asking me to assign him a crime to go along with his prison sentence i’d be able to cover the state of texas. probs my longest work! and this isn’t even that long so what does that say about me? (poor work ethic)
prison bf series linked here !
content: angst, hurt/comfort, lots of fighting, themes of incarceration
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“can i ask you something?” you mumble, rolling onto your stomach to address your boyfriend face to face.
toji pauses, then nods, blowing an acrid plume of smoke towards the ceiling before passing you the cigarette he had pinched between two fingers.
a buzzer sounds from the tv in front of you followed by a sea of excited cheers.
“fuck!” he curses. bringing his fist down on the mattress. “i have 6 grand on this fucking match.”
you wait for his hand to unclench before tapping him, reminding him of your inquiry.
“yeah— yeah. what’s up?” he mumbles, squeezing the fat of your arm affectionately. toji takes what’s left of the cigarette back from you, stubbing it out in the marble ashtray on his bedside table.
“you never told me what you do for work.” the implication hangs heavy in the air as you wait for him to explain, the last bits of smoke around the two of you begin to dissipate. you realize he’s gone rigid.
“business, lots of things.” he says curtly, fishing a pack of marlboro reds from the side hesitantly. you hate when he does this, keeping his hands occupied so he has an excuse to not speak to you.
“right, but like..” you start, growing frustrated. “what kind of business.”
“real estate… y’know.” he smacks the carton against the butt of his hand, then fishes out a stick.
“property management. investing and all that.” he sounds a little more confident this time, cupping a lighter to his mouth with a cough.
you tear yourself from his arms and sit up on the bed, eyes cast on his. you practically feel his stomach drop from how he looks at you, movements laced with caution and hesitance.
“put that out.” you tell him. “stop playing games with me.”
“what?” he laugh’s incredulously, still trying to maintain his confident facade.
“do you not think it’s fucking weird that i don’t know where all your money comes from? do you even pay for this fucking house?” your patience had officially run out, you were pissed.
“nonono— hey— hey c’mon.” toji grapples for your hands, quickly trying to calm you down.
“you don’t do fucking real estate, do you really think i’m that stupid?” your accusation renders him speechless for a moment as he thinks of what to say.
the older man’s expression twists as guilt starts to usher in. he extinguishes the roll-up in his hand, flicking it into the ash tray on your nightstand before reaching for you softly.
“baby..” he chuckles, snaking two palms around the curve of your waist. “don’t be like that.”
“i know it’s illegal. i know it is and i’m not even mad, toji. i’m not .. i just want to know.”
he sighs, running a hand down the side of his face.
“you think just because we eat good that i wouldn’t ask questions down the line? do you think i’m fucking stupid?”
“no.” he whines. “no, fuck. c’mon.” you smack his hands away as he reaches for you once more, tearing yourself off the bed and out into the hallway.
you hear your name boom behind you angrily as he calls out for you a final time. glass shatters against the ground as he mutters to himself, heavy footsteps pacing back and forth.
you’re not unaware of toji’s presence as the older man stands in front of your curled up form on the couch. it’s dark, probably just after 3am. too dark to see his expression, though you know he’s frowning.
he lets out a quiet sound of realization as you turn over, rucking the blanket over your head to drown his presence out. the windows are open, you can feel the chill of the night breeze, even under your comforter.
“i can’t let you sleep here, pretty. that’s not right.”
you stay silent, holding your breath as you wait for him to either leave or fess up.
it’s quiet for a while. you slowly feel yourself being pulled into the precipice between sleep and awareness. an all-consuming warmth makes its home in your chest before you’re quickly struck back awake, heart jumpstarting at the sound of his voice.
“i invest in properties.” he whispers, kneeling beside you so you can hear him more clearly.
“i make investments in properties and then i let people store.. product there.” you know he isn’t lying to you this time. you feel it in his tone.
“product?” you grumble, your voice laced with sleep. you know exactly what he means, you just want to hear him say it.
“drugs, baby. warehouses.”
it’s quiet once more as you mull over what to say back. were you surprised? hardly. you knew what you were getting into as soon as you got involved with him. were you mad? well it was still hard to tell.
“ok.” you mumble curtly, throwing the covers towards your feet and stalking towards the master bedroom. you knew now, and that was that. you gathered there was no reason to keep fighting about it.
toji stands a little too quickly, watching your form disappear up the stairs.
“wait—” he starts, head spinning at your sudden acceptance. “wait really?”
“just come to bed.” you holler, sighing dryly to yourself at the sheer ridiculousness of it it all.
toji had a plan in place even before you’d found out what kind of business he was running. if anything were to happen to him, there would be a fund stored overseas for you to dig into while he wasn’t there to put food on the table.
he’d thought of everything, put measures in place that normal people wouldn’t even think of before it was too late.
he had your shared house put under a family member’s name, hired private security to watch the perimeter of the house 24/7, urged you to use a fake ID in public to conceal your real name, and never ever took you to work meetings.
it just wasn’t enough.
it wasn’t enough to keep his phones from getting tapped. it wasn’t enough to stop an investigation from being launched, and it simply just wasn’t enough to keep him under the radar and out of a prison cell.
you wailed like a baby when the bailiffs snapped those silver cuffs on his arms and led him out of the court room, crumpling to the floor and babbling nonsense towards the judge’s podium like it would somehow change the course of what just happened.
7 years in a federal penitentiary. and that was nothing compared to the sentence they would’ve gave him if his men hadn’t taken half of the fall for him.
toji didn’t look at you.
he didn’t so much as spare you a glance as you sat there on the carpeted floor, screaming into your hands while the bailiffs tried to pick you up off of the floor.
he didn’t say anything to you as you kicked and scratched your way towards his lawyer, hurling expletives and threats to the one person who was tasked with maintaining his freedom.
he didn’t look because he couldn’t.
he couldn’t look at you, his only girl. the girl he’d marry someday, the one he’d raise a family with. he couldn’t look at you because if he did he might risk breaking down right then and there.
he might risk grabbing you by the arm and booking it, going underground for the rest of your lives while his name slowly climbed up the nation’s most wanted list.
he could do it, without question. he’d be more cautious this time. but that just wouldn’t be fair to you. he was done roping you into his mess.
you were young, gorgeous, too good for all of that trouble. you’d worked all your life to get by until he met you, slowly letting down your walls, letting him spoil you like you’d always deserved. and what kind of man would he be if he took that away from you and forced the two of you into hiding?
toji felt himself crumble as reality began to sink in. his stomach dropped with each dreaded step towards his holding room. this was no joke. this was his fate and there was no getting out of it.
“wait.” he tells the bailiffs, whipping his head towards the direction of the courtroom in a panic. he wasn’t the boss anymore. these men didn’t answer to him.
“wait, fuck. wait!” he groans, barreling his way back down the hall. he needed to see you, needed to say goodbye. there’s no telling when they’d let you two visit or if you’d even be able to communicate. god, this was real.
god, he was a coward for giving you the silent treatment. he deserved prison just for that.
toji grunts as he’s tackled to the ground, gloved hands securing shackles on his ankles.
“get offa me. get off— fuck. i wanna see her.” he groans, thrashing as security circles his form. “nonono let me see her! fuck— fuck!”
all he can do is listen to you wail as he’s dragged down the hall, screaming out to you in hopes you hear him.
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ms-demeanor · 4 months
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i’m curious what your opinion is on the finer points of the case mentioned in the JSTOR post you reblogged earlier. the two sources in the post say that JSTOR didn’t press charges against him and had already settled with him by the time he killed himself. from what i read on wikipedia, the concern seems to be that JSTOR complied with a subpoena, which i don’t believe they have a choice to ignore? if anything it seems like the us government had reason to want him dead for wikileaks and public court records reasons, so they took a terms of use violation and blew it up into a dozen federal crimes.
is there more context i should be aware of? i have no particular affection or malice for JSTOR but the sources i found don’t exactly implicate the database or its employees in murder.
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That's from page 175 of this document. This line: "The activity noted is outright theft and may merit a call with university counsel, and even the local police, to ensure not only that the activity has stopped but that - e.g. the visiting scholar who left - isn't leaving with a hard drive containing our database" is where I think the culpability starts.
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If someone is downloading 1000s of articles (what seems like reasonable threshold for us to take action), what's wrong with us - or the university in collaboration with us - alerting the cyber-crimes division of law enforcement and initiating an investigation, having cop search dorm room and try to retrieve any hard drive that contains our content, etc. Our content is extraordinarily valuable and hard to replicate by the sweat of one's brow, but can be duplicated by savvy hackers and who knows what they want to do with the content?
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Page 379: "Does the university contact law enforcement? Would they be willing to do so in this instance?
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From page 1296:
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I think the important thing to note here is that JSTOR had worked with MIT and had plans in place to prevent future similar downloads, but remained focused on identifying the person responsible for the downloads and ensuring that their data was deleted.
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"I might just be irked because I am up dealing with this person on a Sunday night, but I am starting to feel like they need to get a hold of this situation right away or we need to offer to send them some help (read FBI).
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And there it is. Page 3093 of the document.
JSTOR can hem and haw about it all they want, but you can't un-call the cops.
MIT was working with JSTOR on preventing future incidents of pirating, but JSTOR repeatedly said that they weren't going to let it go, that it was unacceptable to drop the issue, that they were going to continue to pursue the pirate.
You can scroll through the document and see the JSTOR tech department and abuse team talking about Swartz as a script kiddie, and a hacker. You can see someone talking about how this was real theft - making the comparison to stealing books even while admitting that piracy doesn't close others out of access.
You can see the thread starts with a joke about punching someone in the face for hacking their system, and includes the tech team ominously considering whether they should threaten the MIT librarians with the FBI.
There's something really important to note here which I don't think that people who aren't PRETTY DEEP into hackery shit aren't aware of: US law enforcement is absolutely rabidly feral about prosecuting hackers. People may be more aware of this now because of Chelsea Manning and Edward Snowden (and perhaps a bit on tumblr because of maia arson crimew), but people who work in tech and who are in infosec - like the people joking about calling the FBI in these emails - would be aware of the bonkers disproportionate punishments faced by hackers. And knowing that, they kept pushing and pushing and pushing for identification of the hacker. They kept digging with MIT, they kept saying that simply preventing future incidents wasn't enough.
Early in the exchange someone from JSTOR asked "what's wrong with us - or the university in collaboration with us - alerting the cyber-crimes division of law enforcement and initiating an investigation, having cop search dorm room and try to retrieve any hard drive that contains our content, etc." and the answer is what happened to Aaron Swartz.
It is absolute bullshit for JSTOR to say "we arrived at a solution privately and didn't want to press charges" after law enforcement has gotten involved with a hacking case, especially one where they're talking about "real theft" and are attempting to quantify and emphasize the amount that was "stolen" from them.
The *public* may believe that private individuals or institutions are the ones who "press charges" but that's simply not the case. It's prosecutors who decide whether or not to go ahead with charges; they do it based on what cases they think they can win and what their office's perspective is on the crime. When you hear about people choosing to press charges it simply means that they decided to tell the prosecutor they wanted the case to go forward. It's up to the prosecutor whether or not that happens.
And the tech team at JSTOR had to know that law enforcement wasn't just going to wag a finger at an academic hacker.
There's a parallel here that happens sometimes when people have their identities stolen by their parents. If you mom takes out a credit card in your name, that's identity theft. That's fraud. That's illegal. If you reach the age of 25 and realize that your credit is ruined because your mom has been defaulting on cards in your name, you've got two choices to fix that: one is to accept the debt and pay it off and build up credit, and the other is to report the identity theft - which will end up with your mom in prison for a decade or so. Ruin your own personal finances, or your mom goes to jail for ruining your finances. So if you find out that your mom stole your identity you can't just call the cops to pressure her into transferring the debt to her name or something. That's not an option. The cops are not a threat to wave over people, they are not a way to get people to fall in line or act right. They aren't someone you can send to a college student's dorm room to retrieve a hard drive and have the matter drop.
When you call the cops on someone you are sending the full force of the law after them, and the full force of the law falls really heavily on hackers, and how heavy that blow can be is something that the JSTOR team must have been aware of when they were making snide comments about calling the FBI because they were frustrated with the noncommittal responses they were getting from librarians.
Ultimately it was the carceral state that killed Aaron Swartz, but they would not have been involved if JSTOR didn't think that what he did constituted theft.
Taking an *EVEN LARGER* step back from that, the idea that information can be owned and locked behind a paywall is what killed Aaron Swartz, someone who fought for information to be free.
Like. JSTOR is a licensing company. At the end of the day, cute social media posts and all, they're the same as the RIAA and ASCAB. They exist to extract a fee from people attempting to access information.
Aaron Swartz and all that he stood for are an existential threat to their core function.
Are JSTOR's hands as dirty as the federal prosecutors? Absolutely not. But they operate on a model that puts them in opposition to open information activists and it ended up with a hammer falling on Aaron Swartz that they dropped.
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writing-fanics · 1 month
Text
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‘silly little love affair’ [part iii of V maybe?]
[warning: angst: adam being a jerk: mentions of depression: implications of self-harm : feelings of loneliness]
previous part > next part
[a/n: y/n is dealing with a lot yes a big reason, is being apart from Lucifer. But even before then she always dealt with the feeling of loneliness and depression, she felt as if she wasn’t perfect like her brother that she was basically an afterthought (which she was). Adam is no way perfect but he got everything served to him a partners (that were all stolen by Lucifer lol) while she didn’t get anything.
which is why I should make a chapter where it’s y/n back in the garden of Eden, she asks the angels to make her a partner cause she’s feeling lonely. and they don’t even bat an eye just telling her no. Which is why she holds such disdain towards Adam and Sera.
“You really do love him?” asked Emily, and [Y/n] lifted her head. A faint smile appeared across her tear stained face, as she held the rubber duck in her hand, “More than anything.” said [Y/n], looking at the younger seraphim with bags under her eyes.
A portal appeared beside Emily, “Go,” said Emily, a smile on her face. [Y/n] looked at her in shock confused, but she gestured towards the portal to hell. She saw it the familiar Morningstar Manor, tears trickled down her cheeks as her heart skipped a beat.
“Don’t worry about Sera or Adam, I’m doing my job bringing joy to others,” she said, looking at her a warm smile on her face.
Even before she started a relationship with Lucifer, she always hated being alone. She struggled making friends even in Heaven, only being able to with Emily. She didn’t like to talk much or converse with other people, she felt awkward around others. Which is why she bonded so quickly with Lucifer, she fell in love with him as they became friends.
He made her laugh, and smile. She felt safe and comfortable around him. When they shared their first kiss, she felt butterflies in her stomach and fireworks. She’s never felt this way about anyone before, and it was scary at first but she grew to love the feeling.
“Emily?!” a voice shouted, appearing in the room. Sealing the portal shut, the hope faded from [Y/n]’s eyes once again.
“Going behind my back, you know better.” said Sera, and Emily looked at her and pointed towards [Y/n]. Sera looked over at her and had to admit, she felt a slight pang of guilt. Seeing how miserable and how worse for wear she looked, her eyes drifting towards the her long sleeve shirt. Catching a glimpse of yellow ichor, causing her to raise her eyebrow in concern.
[Y/n] tugged, on her sleeve to cover and brought her arm close to her chest. She looked up at Sera, and then looked away sadly her shoulders sulking, “I’m not going behind your back! I’m doing my job bringing joy to others.” Emily protested, to the older Seraphim.
She had to admit she hated the fact she was going behind Sera’s back. But she was only doing her job bringing joy to others.
“But it’s unfair she deserves to be happy!”
“It’s my job to bring joy to others.”
“She deserves it!”
Sera grew tense, “Emily! That is enough!” shouted Sera, looking at her. [Y/n] gripped the covers of her bed, her knuckles turning white. Her lower lip quivered as tears trickled down her cheek, “J-Just forget it.” said [Y/n], as she looked down her nose turning red.
Emily and Sera, looked over at her. Emily walked over towards her and placed her hand on her shoulder, “I-I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me.” she said, shaking her head.
Emily shook her head, “I won’t.” She said, and glared looking at Sera. “Cause I’m doing my job.” She said, and Sera shook her head her arms folded across her chest.
[Y/n] shook her head slowly, “stop moping about y/n, you’ll be fine.” Sera said.
“Says, the one who’s crush didn’t reciprocate your feelings.” spat [Y/n], mumbling under her breath. Sera’s eyes widened her brows furrowed, “You’ve got some nerve!” Sera said, looking at her angrily.
“I might! But you have some nerve keeping me away from the one I love!” shouted [Y/n], and the older Seraphim stared at her angrily.
“I’ve never been happier, felt more alive.” She said, as she ran her fingers through her hair, “you’ll never understand what it’s like being in love, how it feels to be apart from your other half!” She shouted, clenching her fist her eyes almost glowing red.
Sera stared at her a looked filled with disdain, “You’re right I’ll never know, and you’ll never see him again.” grumbled Sera, glaring at her and Emily looked at her in shock and disbelief, at her cruelty. “Sera!” Emily shouted in disbelief, and Sera held up a hand.
“That’s my final say,” she finished.
“Letting you fall will just be doing you a service.” Sera said, and the angel just shook her head and stared back at her covers. “I hope karma bites your ass,” She spat, glaring at the older Seraphim.
Before she could open her mouth to speak, a portal appeared beneath [Y/n]. A portal straight to hell, she fell through immediately before Sera ad time to react. Emily smiled, and gave her a little wave goodbye. She didn’t have time to thank her before, the portal closed.
……….
[Y/n] flapped her wings only able to fly for a couple of seconds, only for them to go limp. She screamed, as she tried to use her wings to no avail.
Her wings flapped for a couple of seconds to only go limp. Once again sending her plummeting toward the ground. A sense of panic set in as she realized she was once again plummeting towards the ground below. She frantically tried to regain control, but to no avail. Her heart racing, tears trickling down her cheeks as she got closer and closer to the ground.
She closed her eyes bracing herself for impact, unsure if she would survive the fall. She whispered to herself, as feathers come off her angelic wings and her halo faded away. Her eyes turning red and her sclera turning, yellow. Her forearm turning a dark reddish black, and her nails sharpening to resemble that of claws.
As much as she tried to use her wings, it was no use. They were just to weak only able to support her for a couple of seconds, before giving out. Sending her plummeting back down towards the ground. She closed her eyes once again, this time she thought for the final time.....
Until a pair of arms had caught her from her free fall
“Y-Y/n?” her heart stopped, her eyes shot open and she came face to face with the love of her life. Tears brimmed her eyes, as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
“I’m home.” She whispered, he was taken a back for a moment. He wanted to ask her so many questions. But decided it was best to wait.
Chapter III.5 Sneak Peek
Sera looked down at [Y/n] who stood before her sheepishly, “What is it, Y/n?” asked Sera, looking down at the human who fiddled with her fingers nervously.
“I-I, was wonder c-can I maybe have a partner as well?” She asked, nervously biting her lip. Sera looked at her raising her eyebrow, “You come to ask me now of all times?”
Her eyes widened, “I-I didnt mean?!” She stammered, looking at her. Sera looked down at her, “Lucifer Morningstar, has just corrupted the world with his concept of free will. Bringing evil into the world we created.” said Sera, and furrowed her brows at the human.
“You’ve come to ask me for a partner?” She growled. [Y/n] looked down and her body seemed to shrink, as tears brimmed her eyes feeling embarrassed.
“I-I was just feeling lonely.” Y/n said, sadly. “I don’t have time for this Y/n,” sera said, turning away. The human sighed, and sulked away tears trickling down her cheeks as she exited the room.
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moonstruckme · 2 months
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Heyy:)💞could I request something in which reader is a virgin and she’s afraid of her first time and like unsure if she feels ‘ready’ for it but also doesn’t want to come of as prude and the character you’re writing for just comforts her and tells her it’s fine🌞Any character you’re writing for would be fine!!:))) have a great dayyy🫶
Hi lovely, thank you for requesting!
cw: smut mdni, oral (fem recieving), virgin reader
Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 958 words
Steve’s hands are strong and warm on your waist, dipping lower. You roll your hips against his, and the sound that emerges from him is half-moan, half-laugh. He kisses you dizzy. 
“Can I take these off?” he asks, tugging at your back pocket.
“Yeah,” you say without thinking. 
You trust Steve. You haven’t been dating long, but you can tell he’s a good guy. He has a tendency to act overconfident and then backtrack immediately, which he says he’s working on. He’s genuine when it counts. Nice to you in all the ways that matter. 
It’s not until your jeans hit the floor, where Steve’s shirt already lies, that you start to think about the implications. Whether or not you want them. 
Steve grabs big handfuls of your ass, your flesh pudging between his fingers. He flips you over. 
You giggle at the suddenness of it, and he drinks in the sound happily, lips curving over yours. You press kiss after kiss after kiss into his mouth, giddy and lost in him. After a while, he dips his head to move his attentions to your neck. Your breaths become gaspy, head tilting sideways to grant him better access as your eyes flutter closed. 
You don’t even notice his hand moving until his fingers wiggle under the waistband of your panties. 
You go still. Then try to relax again. Try to embrace it. His fingers slide over your folds, already slicked, while his thumb searches for your clit. He finds it, circling tantalizingly. You try to get lost again. It’s not hard. Soon you’re panting, tangling your hand in Steve’s hair as his mouth sponges over your pulse. He slips one thick finger into you, then two. Scissoring. 
You try to make your voice sound casual as can be. 
“What’re you doing?” 
“Opening you up.” The words are mumbled against your skin, matter-of-fact. “M’gonna get you ready, don’t worry.” 
Your breath catches in your throat. 
“Whoa, hey,” Steve laughs. “Relax for me. You okay?” 
You hesitate, and his fingers still inside you, thumb slowing on your clit. 
“Hey.” He sits up, looking down at you. “Are you doing okay?” 
“I’m not sure if—if I want—”
“Oh, oh my god.” He slips his fingers out, wiping his hand on his sheets. His other hand twitches like it wants to touch your face, but he stops it before it gets there, setting it on the bed beside your head. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to assume…anything.” 
“No, you’re good.” You try to laugh it off. “I’m being dumb. We can keep going.” 
You tip your chin upward, kissing him. Steve doesn’t take the cue.
“I don’t want to do anything you don’t want,” he says, sitting up a bit more, putting more distance between you. You lie back on the mattress and fight the urge to cover your face with your hands. “If you don’t feel like it, that’s cool.” 
You rub your lips together. They’re still tingling. “It’s not that I don’t feel like it,” you try to explain. “It’s just that I’m not sure…I don’t know if I’m ready.” You cringe. “It feels stupid to say it.” 
Steve’s eyebrows twitch together. “Ready for…?” 
You give him a deadpan look, and his expression clears. 
“Oh. Whoa, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” 
You shrug. “I didn’t tell you.” 
“Yeah…” He seems a bit shell-shocked. “Why did you say we could keep going? Do you want to?” 
Your eyes fall thoughtlessly to where Steve’s hand rests just below your navel, your underwear a soppy mess behind it. “I don’t know,” you admit. 
Steve nods like he understands, though he still looks confused. “Well, we shouldn’t do anything unless you know for sure.” 
You look at him, guilt like concrete clogging your insides. “Really? You don’t think I should just get it over with?” 
“What?” His face screws up. “No. Honey,” —He’s never called you that before. You melt a little— “you should want to have sex. If you’re not sure, you’re not sure. That’s fine.” You search in his tone for any hint of sarcasm or bitterness but come up empty. His hand drifts over to your hip, running the length of it. “You’re not asking because you think I want to, are you?” 
It’s a silly, hypocritical stab of hurt, but it hurts nonetheless. “You don’t?” 
“No, I do,” Steve says hastily. “Obviously I do. Just, that’s not a good enough reason for you to do it. And I don’t want you to get it over with, that’s for sure.” 
He says the last bit wryly, glancing away from your face like he’s barely restraining an eye-roll, and you laugh. He looks back at you, grinning. Pleasantly surprised. 
“I mean, it wouldn’t really reflect on you if I was getting it over with,” you say, but Steve scoffs. 
“Fuck yeah it would. Sex with me should be magical, babe,” he tells you, kissing your chin firmly. “Sparks flying and butterflies and all that. The whole fireworks show.” 
“Oh, you’re selling it now.” 
“Not,” he does roll his eyes this time, kissing the corner of your mouth, “my intent. You tell me when you feel ready, and then I’ll start advertising, but until then don’t worry about it.” He catches your eye, and his are searching even as he raises his eyebrows playfully. “I can still give you the fireworks show other ways, if you want me to.” 
You blink. “Really?” 
Steve blinks harder. “Yeah! Jesus, your expectations of me are so low. Give me a little credit.” He presses kisses to your mouth, your chin, trailing down your throat, his blessed hand making its way back towards your heat. “Just sit tight, let me get you warmed up again.”
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