#fucking menace aka

[blmpff]

(37s) 17.02.24

[anxiously-sidequesting]

I personally love and obsess over disillusioned and self-isolating protagonists which is one of the reasons why I advocate for a Young Wizard who just leans so much into their role as the Savior that they're now just this broken down individual who now genuinely shares everyone's fears and legends of them of being this Ultra Powerful, Non-Human, Above-All-The-Peasants Legend Amongst Men. Being picked apart and analyzed (INCORRECTLY might I add) by strangers and people who fear/hate/revere you, no matter where you go or what you do, over and over and OVER it just literally whittles away at who you used to be, what used to make you happy and now you're replaced with what everyone made you into. Not You, but a Hero.

But you know what's even better 😈😈😈 a wizard who cracks in a different way and is now just baaaareeely holding it together. A wizard who just is not All There anymore. A wizard who's Good Maybe, but someone who genuinely gives you a GOOD REASON to fear a switch in allegiance. Someone who reminds you that your entire life depends on their mood

Give me Harley Quinn YW, give me a YW who cackles and shrieks in joy as they batter the evil to the ground, give me a YW who pushes at the very edge of the EXTREMES even when they don't need to. I want a YW who doesn't carry around a gleaming sword, or a mystical staff, but a bat with nails studded inside or a rusty machete; I want poems and songs of not a Hero but a wolf in sheep's clothing who just barely gets by in masquerading as the Commoners. An unhinged YW is the second to best Bad Ending you could ever get from this situation and I want everyone to think about this actually

[shokupanko]

(´＿｀。) Happy Fukase Friday! Here’s a doodle :D

[swordmaid]

I forgot where I read it probably from some handbook but iirc drow hair is one of their symbols of beauty and to cut off someone’s hair is a way to punish and humiliate them. don’t really know if that’s an actual thing - BUT now I am thinking of shri’iia having longer hair throughout act 1 until she becomes an oathbreaker. it is only when she accepts her status as an oathbreaker that she cuts it to the bisexual bob that she usually has <3

[twpsyn-who]

Soulmate AU in which you see the way you die when you touch your soulmate for the first time.

And yeah we have the classic "bottle to the neck" scene which is kiss chief 👌🏼👌🏼👌🏼 BUT I present to you "Steve touched Eddie by mistake during high school" with a little bit of "Steve is an idiot and didn't notice" and "Eddie is suffering".

The fall of 1883. Steve has yet to make a move on Nancy, let alone touch her. Meanwhile Eddie is living his best life as of yet : his father finally got put in prison, new freshman has joinend his club and they finally found a drummer for their band. Yes, Will Byers got missing and Eddie felt a little bad for Jonathan, but that was life. Nothing could change Eddie's good vibes.

Until The King of Hawkins runs by him while trying to get to one Nancy Wheeler. The touch was barely there, a hand brushing by Eddie's leather jacket, but it was enough to trigger their apparent soulmate bound. That's when Eddie saw himself in front of his trailer (which looked more like a military base or a fortress with how heavily guarded it was), holding into a made up spear and a shield made with a bin's lid with nails pushed into it. There were huge bats (?) (Eddie wasn't sure what to name the things in the sky yet) getting out of the trailer and him from the vision began running towards one of the bikes outside, getting on one of them and pedalling away from the trailer.

He was yelling for them to follow him. It probably made sense, if uncle Wayne was in the trailer, for him to try get those monsters away. That didn't stop Eddie from being surprised at seeing himself trying to be the hero.

He was no hero. Eddie has always run away from conflicts, from fights and situations that put him in a bad spot. From help too, until his father finally lost it to the alcohol and Eddie has to accept uncle Wayne's offer to move with him if he wanted to stay alive. He was known for running away.

Yet he was trying to get the monsters away from the trailer, distract their attention. And he made a good job too, until his bike got stuck into a vine and made him hit the ground. Eddie felt sick while watching his vision self try fight the monsters only to get pinned down by them and eaten alive. He from the vision was yelling from pain and it took agonizingly long for the huge bats (looking closer they had no resemblance of bats, yet it felt right to call them as such for some reasons) to drop on the ground. By then it was more blood outside of Eddie than inside and he could see his vision's self organs from one of the bites.

There was more, Eddie knew there was more to watch, more to see before he was going to take his last breath, but the vision was too much and it took all of his willpower to get out of it. By then he was alone in the hallway, the classes going while he was watching his own death happen. He went straight for the bathroom and pushed his way into the first stall before getting on his knees and vomiting all he got to eat the other day.

He was crying. Eddie could tell that it was going to happen soon, with how young he looked in the vision. At that point it didn't even mattered anymore that his soulmate was the biggest jerk alive, not when the future was so dark and he wouldn't survive it.

Somehow Eddie spent the rest of the school classes in the bathroom, switching between vomiting and mourning over something that he was never going to have.

[eorzeashan]

i'm sure everyone has imagined their ocs as cats at some point but imagining Eight as one kills me bc it means Jadus tried to get a agent cat at some point but the rest would always fucking run away or hiss at him or cower in a corner and then this one saw him ignoring it one time and immediately loitered outside his door and screamed until he adopted it

[valleynix]

How would the maids react to seeing lunny once they are finally able to physically be with reader?

AKDBAKDBS WAIT I LOVE THIS

imagine you’re a maid, right? you’re walking down a corridor by yourself, on your way to finish some tasks for one of the daughters. you can’t remember who asked it of you, but you continue, anyway

someone else is walking down the hallway on the opposite end, and you barely lift your head to glance at them. they’re tall, and it looks like they’ve got a big, dark cloak and a hood over their head? must be one of the daughters passing by, so you’d better keep your head down to be respectful, lest it’s Lady Cassandra in a bad mood

she hasn’t really had those in a while, but it’s better to be on the safer side. you really didn’t feel like losing a finger this evening

the person passes, and when they do, they let out a small chirp

confused by the noise and wondering if you heard it correctly, you pause and lift your head, your brows furrowing

another chirp, this time almost like it was made in delight

you’ve never heard that sound from any of your bosses before. purring, buzzing, growling, hissing? yeah, those were pretty normal. but this sounds like a bird-

your curiosity wins, and you glance over your shoulder, eyes wide when you see the other person has stopped with you, standing only a few paces away. they do wear a cloak and a hood is over their head, obscuring their features, but-

oh. oh.

who the fuck-

when the new person lifts their head, you would swear you see that little bird that has your bosses completely entranced. same skin tone, same golden eye (eye??), same hair, if only a little more ragged, same features-

what the fuck? what happened to them? weren’t they smaller and didn’t they most definitely not have wings when you saw them a few hours ago?

their head lifts further, their chin tilting up to reveal more of their features as they grin, showing off their sharp teeth. their arms are hidden beneath their dark cloak, but the large wings behind them start to spread and you see something black with multiple eyes nested on it on the right side of their face-

a voice calls out somewhere behind you, one you are, unfortunately, familiar with. you don’t know what they’re saying - always speaking in that language you’ve never really picked up on - but the way they smile at you as they approach-

no. no. you did not have a death wish. you’re a little more curious as to who-

wait. there are two of them.

there are two of them.

they speak with each other in that strange language as though they were mere siblings lightly arguing with each other as you stand near them, flabbergasted. one looks human, just as you’d suspected, but the other is monstrous-

you can’t really think any more on it. they both turn and walk down the hallway, already having forgotten your existence. you don’t move for several minutes as you wonder if you’d seen anything at all - you’d heard from the others that little bird had powers over one’s mind - but you know what you saw

or maybe you don’t

blinking several times to clear your head, you turn back around and continue down the hallway, brows furrowed deeply in thought. you reach your coworkers eventually, and when you ask if they’d seen another version of that person you all sometimes take care of, they all shake their head no

hm. maybe you’re just going crazy. oh, well

[spkyscry-a]

A or B vote now on your phones.

[gotchaocha]

I’m playing a yaoi dating sim and they really made the character in the route i’m taking to go from ‘’I mean he’s kinda closed off but I’m sure he means well’’ to ‘’that men is a menace to society’’

[dreamlandxrunaway]

one class more and the semester is officially over 🫠

[sparklingchim]

hush hush; m | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 1.5k

rating: 18+

genre: hockeyplayer!jungkook, richgirlie!oc, brother’s best friend, college!au, fwb

warnings: koo is a menace!! aka horny, dick pic, masturbating (m&f), spitting, dirty talk, pic of tummy covered in cum </3, jelly jk & oc, jungkook asks for a more committed relationship 😳 & oc dips immediately 👊

summary: pov: you receive a dick pic from jungkook while you're out on a family dinner.

a/n: teehee just a little silly something cause it's my birthday n i rlly love this couple <3 🫂

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Jungkook

can u send me a pic of your boobies

It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes, on rare occasions, Jungkook manages to catch you off guard.

You

?

you know that i'm out with my family

Jungkook

why are u on your phone then

is your date boring

You

he's not my date you goof

but no

he's actually very nice

very pretty too

You steal a glance at Minho, who is sitting across from you. Clad in a black Burberry shirt, he sends a charming smile your way. You return it with a shy smile, gripping the phone you’re hiding underneath the table a little harder.

Jungkook

why are u texting me then

go enjoy yourself

You

you texted me first?

Jungkook

thought maybe you needed a distraction

You

no i'm fine

i mean it is kinda boring sometimes but

minhos brother is pretty funny

without him this dinner wouldn’t have been nearly as fun

Jungkook

wdym

he has a brother?

You

yeah he studies abroad but is back in seoul for a couple months

Jungkook

what's his name

You

eunwoo

taehyung knows him

they used to play hockey when they were little

maybe you know him too?

Jungkook

send me a pic of him?

You

jungkook 🙄

oh my god

you don’t need a pic of everything

Jungkook

yes i do

especially after you promised me to take a pic of your fit?

i’m still waiting

You

didn’t have timee

Jungkook

you always have time for me

You

no

you just always catch me at a time when i’m free 🙄

Jungkook

if that makes you sleep at night

ego too big to admit that you’re obsessed with me

You

me????

obsessed with you???

you’re silly jungkook

Jungkook

that’s bold coming from a girl who was screaming for more around my dick last night

Your head snaps up. Flusteredly searching the table for eyes who might have caught your sudden reaction.

“Is Jungkook texting you?” Taehyung asks, nodding to your phone in your hands.

You swallow. Hard.

“Yeah. Apparently he’s really bored at home,” you explain. “Doesn’t know what to do, so he texted me.”

“Tell him I might come to the party later,” your brother says.

You nod your head until Taehyung’s attention is no longer on you.

You

how dare you

Jungkook

???

just stating the truth

You

tae saw you texting me

Jungkook

oopss

You

he didn’t see what you texted

thank god

he said he might go to the party later

are you going?

Jungkook

hmm

don’t know

the only girl i wanna fuck rn is you

are you going?

You

no

parties are no fun when tae is around

Jungkook

watchu wearing btw

You

black dress

from miu miu

Jungkook

is it short

You

yes

Jungkook

fuck

And that’s when Jungkook surprises you a second time that night.

He sends you a pic of the hard-on he sports. He has wrapped his palm around the base, tilting his veiny length against his chiselled abdomen. His pretty mushroom tip lies above his belly button.

You instantly close your phone.

You peek at Taehyung, but he is in a deep conversation with Eunwoo.

“I need to use the restroom real quick,” you excuse yourself.

On your way there you dial Jungkook’s number.

“If I had known it is that easy to get you on the phone, I’d have done it way earlier,” Jungkook says the second he picks up.

When you enter the restroom, you’re lucky no one is in there. You hurriedly slip into a bathroom stall.

“What were you thinking?” you hiss in a whisper, the door shutting behind you.

“Thinking of you, clearly.”

“I’m sitting right next to Tae, you moron.”

“I was hoping you’d be next to that funny dude.”

You roll your eyes. “Quit being petty.”

“Just relax for five minutes,” Jungkook says, voice all deep and smooth. “Slip your fingers into your panties and have some fun with me, yeah?”

His soft voice nearly has you melting away – everything sounds so simple coming from his lips.

“What if someone comes in?” you voice your concern.

“You can be quiet. I taught you well.”

You bite your lip at the thought of your secret late-night calls when one of you two couldn’t resist – mostly Jungkook though – and it was incredibly difficult to stay quiet while Taehyung slept in the room next to yours.

You tug your panties down, middle finger running along your pussy.

“I have, like, three minutes,” you tell him.

You can hear Jungkook spitting on his cock. “I can work with that.” The faint noises of him pumping his lubed cock fill your ears and your finger starts circling around your clit.

“Been wanting you all day long;” Jungkook groans with a strained voice. “Fuck, I need you so bad.”

His desperate words are honey to your ears. You love him wanting you. Your finger moves faster, adding a little more pressure on your sensitive bud.

“Already missing me after just one day?” you giggle. “That’s not good, Koo. I can’t always sneak out for you.”

“Just love your pussy so much.” He spits again and your eyes roll at the sound.

“Can’t believe what you’re making me do.”

“What? I’m just saving you from a boring dinner.”

“It’s not that boring,” you defend.

“But you’re still having more fun with me,” Jungkook points out. “Don’t you?” he presses.

You bite your lip. “Mayhaps.”

“Fuck– if you were here, I’d shove my cock down your throat. Make those pretty eyes cry for me.”

Your brows furrow in pleasure. Your pussy is dripping with arousal for him.

“God, I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” You hear the smile in his voice – can exactly picture the subtle hint of a smirk on his face.

Your head falls back, a breathless moan flying past your mouth. “That’s the problem.”

“That’s not considered a problem.” Jungkook huffs. “Girls just like me. That’s the standard.”

“You need to stop talking or I’ll hang up.”

Your ears fill with the sweetest laughter from him. “I’m sorry, princess. I forgot you don’t like when I talk about other girls.”

Actually, you feel like throwing up whenever he mentions other girls, but he doesn’t need to know that. It’s not like you’re not with other guys as well. You just hate hearing about girls that Jungkook hooked up with when he’s with you.

“I don’t care,” you say, aiming for an indifferent undertone. “But you need to shut up and moan more, or I won’t cum.”

Jungkook’s chuckles deeply. “Would love to fill you up right now.”

A whine escapes you. “Jungkook.”

“You want that? Want your pussy filled my cum?”

“Always,” you moan, starting to move your hips along your hand movements.

"Wanna see you," Jungkook mumbles.

"Can't take pictures. I don't have time."

Jungkook’s moans get louder and you can’t help yourself but utter a few whimpers as well.

“I’m close.” Your tummy tingles – just a few more flicks over your clit and you’re cumming.

“Cum with me.” Jungkook’s tone takes on a husky note. “Fuck, princess, I’m gonna cum.”

Breathy moans reach your left ear while you shakily whine his name. Pleasure rushes through your entire body and your eyes screw shut.

“Shit,” he curses. “Wanna see how much I came?”

You laugh foolishly, a little light-headed. “Sure.”

Jungkook sends you a picture of his toned tummy covered with streaks of cum. His cock his still hard, resting near his belly button, the tip all swollen.

“Oh,” you marvel. “Pretty.”

“We could change that, you know?”

You swallow, still feeling dizzy. “Change what?” You tug your panties up, after cleaning yourself.

“Me talking about other girls?” he reminds you. “If you want it to be just me and you, we could arrange that. That’s fine by me.”

Your eyes widen a little. Jungkook is offering to be in a committed situationship and your brain short-circuits.

“But what about all the girls throwing themselves at you?” you reply in mock pity. “You can’t do that to them.” Jungkook is one of the most popular hockey players on his team. Every girl is thirsting for him. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him alone at parties, he always has someone by his side.

“I don’t care about them.”

“You’re a meanie.” You huff. “Uhm, I think I should head back. I think I have dessert waiting for me.”

“You’re coming over?” he asks.

“You’re goofy, Jungkook.” You roll your eyes with a soft smile forming on your mouth. “Can we talk later?”

“Yeah, sure,” he replies, but doesn’t sound as bubbly as before.

You hang up, let out the longest sigh ever and leave the restroom.

~

With hot cheeks you return to the table.

“You okay?” your mum asks as you walk past her to your seat.

“Uh-huh.”

When you still feel her glance on you, you say, “Nothing's wrong.“ and add a little smile afterwards.

While you were gone, they served your table dessert. A mango parfait with coconut sorbet is just what you’re in need for.

“Eunwoo also comes to the party later,” Taehyung says when you sit down. “You wanna join us?”

“Sure,” you reply absent-mindedly.

You can’t focus on anything, Jungkook’s words are on loop in your mind.

You should tell him that his offer is a stupid idea. A very stupid one.

The way your heart flutters at the thought of being the only girl he fucks should tell you enough.

But that is exactly why you want it so bad.

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

series masterlist

[yandere-kokeshi]

Saw an idea from @frogchiro and decided to write some feral content. Send her some love ❤

TW: yandere, monster fucking, werewolves, some crack/funny thoughts, talks about pregnancy/having pups (still gender-neutral), and knotting stuff.

Imagine TF-141 being yandere werewolf hybrids, falling for you all at once, each sharing their own yandere traits; which, causes all of them to be wherever you are. The need to scent you. Need you to be beside them at all times. And soon bring you home as theirs.

And now, you're their mate, sharing is needed — pack mates practically share everything, no?

Out of the four, Soap and Gaz are the absolute worst — they're feral, energized through the roof, and has to follow you around constantly; nudging into your crotch as they need to smell you. Smell your addictive scent that makes them all types of crazy, causing them to start nipping at your poor skin, growling at each other as the need for breeding comes along.

They both love to yap and bark at you, gently grasping your hand to guide you back to your bed (aka nest) so they can cuddle you (or stuff you full of their knot, their fluffy fur likely suffocating you.)

Though, you are often saved by Simon, and Price, whom are the biggest. They growl at them to watch it and gently bite their ears on scolding, snarling at them of needing to be more careful, and to not hurt you. You're their perfect mate!

Of course, Soap and Gaz make it up with sloppy kisses. And how can you not forgive them? Their obvious doggy eyes working perfectly.

Simon and Price are more so on the chiller side. Watching from afar, and demand cuddles that end up with their heads laying on your lap, the thumping of their tails on the chewed-up couch shows their appreciation when you finally decide to pay them attention.

But don't think they don't get possessive – because they do. More often or not, the hickeys and knots come from them. Though, they're regularly the nicest, rarely one to hurt you, and more aware of their size.

But, their breeding cycles are the fucking worse. Soap and Gaz are naturally horny, biting at your form as their tongue hangs out, but Simon and Price are a menace when in heat. Being more vocal, possessive, and often nipping at your ankles to not stray too far.

Regularly dragging you by the scruff of your clothes where the two of you can mate, spending their heat in peace. Making sure that you can see Price flexing his burly muscles, wanting you to admire their wagging fluffy tails, and showing off how thick, glossy Simon's fur is, and how both of them. All of them, really, can provide you with pleasant things, including a healthy litter of pups.

Despite them being pack mates, all of them are fighting on a regular basis — they all want to be the first one to breed, knot, and have you carry their pups.

When in their full werewolf forms, soap is more prone to chasing butterflies, and bringing you back half-alive birds, barking at you for his proud hunt – his mouth and chest covered in deepening blood.

Though, Gaz, and Price, actually bring actual gifts that are thoughtful — plopping full landscape roses in front of you, the roots still connected to the plant as their tail wag violently as they wait for your praise.

Simon, on the other hand, brings actual food. Like… steals a whole ass barbecued-chicken from someone's backyard, and nudges it closer to you as it's still warm.

Stares at you to eat it, his hazel eyes demanding for you to take it, but immediately snaps at Johnny, who only cackles back. He tries so hard to steal the items every time Simon gifts you something (he just wants a bite out of your food — sharing means caring!).

Everywhere on your body is marked by them, the harsh-but-yet healed maw-marked implanted into your skin. Their marks are typically licked, and kissed on by them.

Bring me some more ideas, please!! I fucking love these men who are feral for you — especially as werewolves 🤭

—

Here's my mw2 masterlist for more things <3

[risuola]

IV — EPIPHANY — F. READER x SUKUNA RYOMEN

Sukuna thought nothing can break him. He's powerful, he has influence and means to always come on top – or at least that's what he thought, because now he realized that he's nohing but weak.

cw: angst, blood, usage of weapon, reader discretion is advised — 2,6k words

a/n: in this part i wanted to give you a little insight into Sukuna's persona. show the menace in him, show the threat and how he is when he's not influenced by weakness that is our precious y/n (aka when he's not confused as hell by what's happening in his heart). i rewrote this part four times before i was finally somewhat satisfied with it.

series masterlist

You are safe with me.

Sukuna thought about the words with hilarity. The sentence so simple and kind, it felt foreign to realize that his own mouth allowed it out of his system. An odd sort of disdain washed over himself and he found it laughable that throughout his entire career of blood and murder, what made his blood pressure raise up was a lie he told you. A strangely comic amalgamation of letters and syllables that each time he thought of them made him more angry and more amused.

You were safe, technically, or maybe that’s what he wished to believe when he replayed the events of one very unlucky Sunday evening in his memory. It began lovely, too lovely in fact, but he chose to actively ignore the oddity of it – he came to terms with how easily you were able to render his senses useless whenever you came into the field of his view wearing something as pretty as the dress you picked for the date that day. It was in a shade of pink that you deemed similar to the color of his hair, a dusty rose, you called it, and Sukuna wasn’t sure exactly how much truth was that, but he couldn’t care less about it when you looked so drop dead gorgeous. When he watched you walking next to him through the crowded alleys in the park nearby your apartment building, he couldn’t help but notice only you in the mass of people around him. He felt like a teenager in a way, with his heartbeat drumming against his ribcage with pace similar of this after sprinting for long time. You were capable of triggering reactions in his body that he thought were long gone with the days of his youth but he was fine with it. As long as he could witness your beauty, he was fine with everything.

Sukuna laughed gravelly as the sequence of memories played in his mind – the dark sound of his voice causing two police officers outside the bars of his cell to tremble. Oh, how much he hated you and your stupidly breathtaking face for whatever the hell you did to him. If he could, he would tell you what he thinks of it right now and if not careful enough, he might tell you a little too much. Confess maybe. Yeah, he might do that someday. And maybe move out somewhere where you’d truly be safe. Where he wouldn’t feel like a fucking idiot for saying words that are so damn obviously a lie.

Moving out felt like a good idea. In couple of years, when he’s done ruling the criminal forces, he could take you out of Japan, somewhere far away and protect you from any harm. He’d take you somewhere warm, where he could shamelessly admire the way your skin tone looks under the golden rays of sun and the way your eyes shine and glisten like the most expensive and rare gemstones. The thought of you brought a wide smile to his face, as the picture spread in front of his closed eyelids. In the cold of his cell, he could almost feel the burning touch of your fingers tracing the shapes of his body.

* * *

Sixteen days.

It’s been over two weeks since you last saw Sukuna and it was getting harder and harder to go about your days. You missed him. You missed his face, his strong arms that manhandled you around despite your playful taps and tugs. You missed the huskiness of his voice, the low purrs he made in the morning whenever he’d nuzzle his nose against your temple inhaling the scent of your skin that he swore he was addicted to. And above all, you were worried and restless, and scared.

Whenever you closed your eyes, your mind was flooded with memories of the Sunday date you went on with Ryomen. He picked you up and handed you a little bag filled with your favorite mochi – the ones stuffed with fresh strawberries and whipped cream, a delicacy made in only one place in Tokyo and you remember how your heart swelled with warmth and love when you realized he had driven to that shop on the other side of the city just to get you few pieces of sweets. He was wearing his usual, black dress pants and a leather belt, perfectly polished boots and a dark grey sweater that made him look both casual and dangerous, with the tattoos around his wrists exposed under the rolled-up sleeves and his sharp features, that somehow whenever were turned towards you seemed a little bit softer.

You felt like a princess next to him, you felt loved and protected with his large hand enveloping your smaller one in his warm embrace. It was perfect. It was perfect until–

You didn’t exactly pick up what happened and how it happened. Even now as you think of it, you can’t truly recall how that tale-like evening turned into a mess that led you to lose your sleep every night that followed. It was a flash. One second you were leaning into Sukuna’s palm, greedy to steal his warmth and love and next one you were pushed tightly against his chest behind a bench. His hand, that was embracing you with as much delicacy as one would use to touch a doll made of porcelain was suddenly pressed harshly to the side of your head, covering your ear. Someone was shooting, Ryomen was shooting. You felt the impact of each bullet being extracted from his weapon. Each one of the subtle shakes of his muscular body reverberated throughout your smaller frame. You heard guns, despite his effort to protect your eardrums, but the loud explosive sound mixed with screams of people around was loud and clear in your head. An echo of danger and violence that you witnessed firsthand even though the man that held you did everything he could to protect you from the event.

You remember vividly the moment Sukuna groaned and cussed lowly. It followed a soft tremble of his large body and at first you didn’t realize what happened, but then you felt the unexpected wet warmth on one of your hands. “It’s fine, don’t worry,” he was telling you over and over again as your eyes began to water at the realization that one of your palms was covered in blood. His blood.

“It’s just a scratch,” he was lying to you, but you didn’t know it was a lie until you saw him later. The magazine in his gun was empty sooner than you thought it will be and the foreign shooting continued. It seemed like there were few attackers, but you couldn’t tell where all of it was coming from. All you remember was that you stayed hidden in the large body of your lover for the entire time until the police sirens broke the scene.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered to him, doing everything in your power to hold back sobs, as he kept you close to himself. You knew that police couldn’t be good for him and if not for you, he would most likely run away somehow, but he stayed there, behind the bench, holding you tightly and making sure not a single bullet could land on your fragile body.

He didn’t look mad, not even annoyed, when he was telling you what to do next and how to act in the face of what was to come, and even though you had the hardest time registering it through the immense fear you felt regarding his future, you were nodding. He was calm, and you thought that he stayed calm for you because the scene of shooting was enough of a distress for you already. And then, you saw him in handcuffs, with his hands shackled behind his back, guided towards the police car. Cops that were responsible for escorting him looked almost funny next to his towering frame and if he only wanted, he would quite easily throw those officers away. But he didn’t. And he didn’t do it to save you.

You remember the last time you saw him he sent you a smile, more so a smirk, when one of those cops harshly pushed his head down, making sure he got into the car. Few moments later, he was gone and you were left with the mess of the crime scene and the burden of a witness.

Later, you were informed by one of his pawns that it’s not gonna take long, but you knew that things were serious because few days slowly turned into a week and then two weeks and he still was in jail. And you couldn’t go visit him because he said so. You stayed in his house, safe and sound in the bed you always shared with him, except now you were alone and cold. You missed him. And you were worried.

It killed you inside to think Sukuna might face charges. A life sentence, most likely. There was only so much that you knew about his criminal past and you were sure that he kept many secrets from you, that he wanted to save you from the heavy burden of his misdeeds and cruelty. You knew how dangerous his lifestyle was, how dark was the path he chose to fallow and you knew that even someone as strong as him couldn’t escape the jurisdiction forever. But why now?

You couldn’t shake off the devastating feeling of emptiness whenever you wandered between the luxurious interiors of his mansion. It felt like you couldn’t stop worrying, day in and day out you were thinking if he was alright. Was he properly fed? He told you that he won’t contact you while in jail to protect you, but all you wished for was just to hear his voice. You were worried about the way authorities treat criminals of his sort. What will they do to him? The mere thought of torture or interrogation filled you with dread and anxiety. You never felt so alone and helpless.

* * *

It took too long.

In fact, detention took much longer than Sukuna anticipated but time behind the bars was nothing but an entertainment for him. It was amusing, it allowed him to let loose. Surrounded by an air of sadistic satisfaction he didn’t get to experience in years, he played game of pushing and pulling, a game of power. Despite being enclosed and surrounded by dozens of officers and guards, Sukuna had a sense of control over his situation, and it amused him. He was enjoying the misery that he caused others, relished in the fact that he was feared and hated. It made him almost giddy. There was a twinkle in his eye and a playful grin on his lips, he relished the experience.

“I’ve got few questions to you.”

He smirked, sitting smug and relaxed. For the nth time he was questioned; a futile attempt of getting information out of him, yet another display of the illusionary power that authorities thought they had but lacked severely. It made Ryomen laugh out loud each time he sat against a new face, it pleased him, he loved the feeling of having the interrogator’s full attention. Detectives that tried to enforce the law onto him looked tough, each one of them, until they dropped their weight onto the metal chair in the interrogation room. The heaviness of the sinister aura was unnerving to anyone who dared to approach and the criminal enjoyed breaking them one by one.

“Do you?” Sukuna spoke, his voice low and menacing, but bearing a thrill of amusement and excitement. The heavy chains that grounded his frame clinked as he moved just slightly and the shiver that went down the spine of the man in front of him did not escape his watchful eye. “Afraid?”

“Hardly,” a tone of false confidence responded to the question and Ryomen chuckled. To him, this was a game, and he was winning. He found joy in annoying the interrogator, knowing that he couldn’t get anything out of him. It was stimulating, it was fun. It was a game of cat and mouse. It felt euphoric to answer the questions, knowing that his words were confusing, that he was able to mess with the man’s head, make him question his own judgement.

Years and years of being on the top of mafia managed to clear his memory of being vulnerable and the caricature of it that he was now experiencing served for a nice refresher. He felt excitement to play with the law and as he sat there, restrained by metal bounds, he realized why he became a criminal in the first place. The constant chase of thrill and power was what made him who he was.

As the detective sat there, intimidated more and more with each passing second, Sukuna watched the disaster unraveling with a dark glint in his eyes. He enjoyed every moment of the tension and knew that chills were running down the spine of his current opponent. He was imposing, savoring the fear and the exquisite feeling of danger that surrounded him. It was intoxicating, it made him feel alive. He played with the interrogator as if the predator would play with its pray, he stared at him with a small grin of pure evil.

“You’ve been stubborn this whole time,” the officer said, clearing his throat and straightening his spine to make himself appear bigger but to Ryomen, he was merely a source of amusement. The criminal stayed relaxed and leaned forward, slowly closing the distance between his own face of death and the eyes of the person in front of him.

“Was I stubborn?” He questioned, his tone low and menacing and his lips stretched slowly, baring the teeth. “You’ve got me all chained up and still, you can’t get your job done?”

“You’re chained up because of the potential threat you might pose.”

Sukuna laughed. A raspy and low chuckle came from his throat; a dark omen that hung heavy in the air as if signifying the upcoming danger. It was cold and malicious, an ominous showcase of his real persona, of someone who has no compassion and knows no mercy. He felt a twisted sense of satisfaction at the sight of sweat running down the face of the man in front of him. He exuded an aura of fear, leaving everyone in the room unsettled.

“If I only wanted to, I could rip out your throat with my bare teeth.” Ryomen’s voice was low, it was quiet and nearly whisper like but the message it carried was more than enough to freeze the blood inside the veins of the interrogator.

“I assume you’re familiar with the idea of good cop bad cop method,” the man spoke again after a moment of dread. He cleared his throat once more, squared up his jaw.

“And which one are you?”

“Oh, I’m neither, but allow me to show you something,” interrogator reached to the inside pocket of his coat, pulling out a phone with his sweaty palms and pressing down few buttons.

The moment Sukuna looked down on the screen, his expression changed. A ghost of anger washed over his features as he took in the picture. Suddenly, he felt a wave of burning hot filling his veins and reaching his face; a dizzying sensation of dread and rage and then he realized that the power he wielded was nothing. With his eyes fixed on the little phone and his jaw clenched, shaken by the rush of adrenaline and with his knuckles white, Sukuna Ryomen experienced acknowledgement. An epiphany of sorts. The illusion of might and influence burst like a bubble made of soap and slowly he realized that he’s nothing but–

“Seeing something familiar?”

–weak.

» PART FIVE

taglist: @yihona-san06 , @tiredscavengerskeleton , @son4aras , @vixorell , @cecesharktales , @isleqt , @thickmacandcheese, @captainchrisstan, @bbylime, @sad-darksoul, @shartnart1, @kiki17483, @grimreaqueer, @phoenix-eclipses, @fan-of-encouragement, @valleydoll, @aleeeeeeees-stuff, @marifujioka, @going-to-californiaxx, @just-pure-trash, @edenofeve, @impulsivethoughtsat2am, @thigh-o-saur, @heyohalie, @matchat3a, @bubblearts, @littlemisspropaganda, @aconstructofamind, @lawislife18, @rzcnlb, @sunukissed, @b3llair3, @lzaj19 , @sanzusforeverwife, @annshz, @mrs--imperfect, @kaminari-no-ritsusha, @gojos-princesa, @burpzz

[rosewaterandivy]

girl crush

Summary: there’s more than two beds, but of course you sleep in his.

W.C.: 2.5k

Warnings: y’all know me - it’ll be the usual! Smut, idolatry, devotion, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), pussy drunk Steve— I don’t make the rules 😤‼️

a/n: aka your first time with Steve, who may or may not be your boyfriend?

🎶 I’ve got a girl crush, I don’t get no sleep, I don’t get no peace, thinkin’ bout her 🎶

“Wish I could babe,” his voice sounds distant over the phone, wind whipping every other word through the mic, “But we just started production out here, we won’t wrap for a while yet.” You’d caught him during a break in filming, miraculously.

Several dates in LA after an introduction from Eddie, and here you are trying (and failing) to plan another. He’s back in California after a press tour and you were fresh off of recording your latest album.

“Well,” you drawl out, “I could come to you?” The question is rushed, breathless, you screw your eyes close in fear of fucking it all up.

A pause.

“You sure?”

“S’easier than dealing with your schedule, Harrington,” you say lightly, “Palm Springs is doable enough.”

He’s working on some indie picture out in the desert, you were murky on the details. You hear shuffling from his end and ‘psst’s trying to get someone’s attention.

“Rob… Rob! Can you– yeah, the address?”

A moment later your phone dings with a notification.

“So,” you say, throwing clothes haphazardly into a bag, “What’ve you got planned for us?”

Three or so hours later finds you in the desert and absolutely ecstatic about it. Dressed down in cut-offs and an old merch tank–or, as dressed down as you could get–you breathe in deep, thankful to be out of LA. Little to no paps and tabloids to be worried about–or worse, Deuxmoi acolytes–so you could finally relax.

Steve met you out front with the fattest joint you’d seen in years, he nearly dropped it when you all but tackled him to the ground. You were so happy to be with him again.

“Little soon to be proposing, no?”

“Think I’d do better than some hydro from Arglye,” he grouses, but you take it from him anyway with a deep inhale, “Says ‘hi’ by the way.”

“Tell him I accept and we’re registered at Tiffany’s,” you say finally, exhaling slowly.

He rolls his eyes, “Okay, Material Girl,” he helps to hoist you back up, “Tour time.”

After the grand tour, which was impressive–“Holy shit, do you have Robin on retainer? ‘Cause if not...”--Steve entertained you in the kitchen, making what he called the ‘secret sauce.’

“Oh, that?” you scoff, pouring some wine, “Had that on date number two, if you’ll recall.” You take a sip and continue with a waggle of your brows, “My compliments to the chef, as ever.”

Steve blushes at that, recalling how pretty you had looked with your glossed lips around his cock, all warm and soft under the dim light from the setting sun. A groan rumbles from his chest as he braces himself against the countertop, knuckles turning white.

“You’re a menace,” he said, voice low and gravelly, before he turned his attention back to the pots and pans on the stove.

You shrug and drink some wine, savoring the crisp tart taste against your tongue. Steve flits from one spot to the next while he cooks, stirring the sauce one moment and blanching veggies the next; all the while, remaining loose enough to pour a second glass of wine for you and another for himself.

Infuriatingly attractive that.

The sun had gone down in the desert while Steve finished with the pasta. You’d assigned yourself the task of setting the table and doing the dishes after dinner. Plates and cutlery arranged, you helped yourself to some salad while Steve served the pasta.

You mouth had already been watering at the mere scent of whatever was bubbling away on the stove, and all it took was one bite to have you audibly moaning at the dinner table. His eyes met yours, mischievous and curious, as he sipped his wine.

“Fuck me, that’s good,” you say with closed eyes, savoring the taste.

Steve laughs quietly across the table.

Dinner goes on, you try to reign in your vocal appreciation of the meal. He fills you in on some details of the shoot, set gossip, and the like. You offer up the scant information you have about the upcoming tour and album release. Clearing the table is easy enough between the two of you, knocking hips every so often as you washed and he dried the dishes.

You ended up in his bedroom, collecting the duffle you’d packed from the guest room down the hall. It was a kind thought, that you would opt for a separate room and your own space; he was hesitant like that, never wanting to assume.

Electing to change in the ensuite bathroom, you step out of the denim cutoffs and fold them neatly on the counter. Shoes had been kicked off at the front door earlier in the evening, leaving you now in an ancient Corroded Coffin shirt that had seen better days. He’s sat on the bed, looking all soft and sweet–tousled hair and wire rimmed glasses framing his face nicely, skin flushed from the wine.

He bit his lip when he saw you come out, hair a mess and legs, legs, legs, but a vision nevertheless. He can’t help himself as you step between his splayed knees at the edge of the bed, his hands coming to rest against he curve of your hips.

“Hey honey,” he murmurs as your arms wrap around his neck.

“Hey Steve,” you greet in return, lips pulled tight in an embarrassed smile.

Gently, he tugs you closer to him, the fabric of the shirt rucking up against your skin. His finger skirts against the back of your thigh, the skin shivering involuntarily. “Missed you,” he says, voice raspy and low.

His soft gaze lingers on you, warm hazel eyes looking up through long lashes. “Missed you too,” you say quietly.

“Yeah?” he asks, fingers grasping at the flare of your hips before he leans back on the bed, “C’mere then.”

As you clamber onto the bed, he lays back against the cool cotton of the duvet pulling you down with him. Substantively seated in his lap, you rest your head against his chest and let out a sigh.

“Comfy?” he says, a hand trailing lazily up and down your back. You nod, fingering the fabric of the shirt between your fingers. Softened by time and wear, paint and lettering disintegrating each time you wore it. It smells comforting like you–cardamom and sandalwood with a hint of something boozy–smells like home.

“I’ll keep you close then.”

His other arms falls against your hips while he continues to trace shapes against your back. You feel his lips leave at the crown of your head before his head falls back against the mattress. It’s quiet and he can tell from the rhythm of your breathing that you’re a few minutes from falling asleep.

The nation’s favorite spitfire in his bed, face nuzzled into his chest, bit by bit chiseling your way into his heart.

Steve lets his teeth worry his bottom lip, willing his nerves not to get the best of him. “Y’know, I really like you.”

“Mmm,” your drowsy moan comforting, the lazy smile tugging at your lips setting off the butterflies in his stomach. “I really like you too.”

Fuck, he hadn’t been this nervous in a while. And yeah, you’d been seeing each other for a minute but not long enough to have the ‘what are we’ conversation.

His hand tangles in your hair, loose and windswept from the drive, fingers scratching lightly at your scalp. A muffled moan pours from your lips and vibrates his chest.

“Sorry, sorry” you slur sleepily, “M’not normally such a lightweight.”

Steve, for his part, doesn’t think anything of it. You’d had, what, one glass of wine at dinner— maybe two? But you could be tired from the drive.

Maybe he’s misreading this thing entirely. A brief flicker of panic licks up his spine; maybe it’s too soon, maybe you just want to sleep—

“Can hear you thinkin’ up there,” you mumble and pull him from his downward spiral. A brief movement as you settle your chin to his chest and glance up. Your eyes are half-lidded and sultry, lips pulled in an enticing fashion.

He grunts when you shift your weight until you’re practically sitting on his chest to keep him breathless. He’s smiling up toward the ceiling, one side of his lips curled upward, jaw slack, easy and yielding because Steve offers himself to everything like this: headfirst and wide-open.

It’s be infuriating if he wasn’t crashing headlong toward you. It’d be irritating if he wasn’t so damn earnest about it.

After a while of feeling out each other's atmosphere, eyes catching every so often before flitting away to focus on something else, Steve arches up to request a kiss, all warmth and need.

You lean down to touch your lips to his gently, brushing your nose with his along the way— a wholly delicate gesture he never would’ve expected from you, but has grown to adore.

“We can go slow,” you breathe against his lips. “Don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Steve’s stomach swoops. He reaches up to cradle the back of your neck, drawing your forehead to his. “That so?”

You're smiling— so big and beautiful it hurts. And his heart is so loud he thinks you must hear it.

The kiss was clumsy, you chalked it up to too much drink, but the touch of your lips to his burned down his throat, like whiskey and joy— warm and smooth and cataclysmic as his hand cupped your face. You kiss him and Steve hears himself sighing into your mouth. His cheeks flush in excitement because you’re not letting go, so he presses his lips to yours a little slower, a little firmer, learning all the ways you like to feel him there.

“Steve,” you breathe, and it lights him up. “Steve,” you say again, and his eyes slip shut. Even now, he’s crushed with longing.

You press the heat of your core into his groin, grinding your hips into his.  

When your tongue touches him again, he thinks he might go blind. His eyes flutter open as much as they can, to savor the moment of your face so close to his. Your eyes, shut. Your skin, flushed. Your hair, a silky, folded curtain against his chest.

You are straddling Steve’s thigh now, sitting on your knees and moving against his thick limb in slow orbits. The underwear sitting against your hips is still there but does nothing to keep the slickness between your legs at bay. His thigh is moist from it, and it catches a shine in the fading light.

“Need you, baby,” you plead. “Any way you want.”

You glow like a full moon in the night, divining his animal desires with phosphorescent eyes.

Too eager now with permission. Too eager now with the fiercest kind of lust—of love—he lets it go. All for you, and you all for him. He nips at your collar, drowning deeper and deeper. Fingers meandering to hook into the gauzy and damp fabric hiding you from him and pulls. Wants you bare and shuddering beneath him. Hip bones against hip bones, the noises you make—ragged and hoarse—sending tremors down his back.

Steve grips your waist and moves you from his leg. A whimper escapes before it turns into a gasp as he turns you around, back meeting the cool of the sheets. “You call it, sweetheart.” Comes his husky voice in your ear. You know he means it completely.

A moan slips forth when he dives into the back of your shirt and tears it off, does the same with his. He wants to hear that noise again. The two of you are entwined like real lovers, pulling apart only to breathe and whisper to each other.

He falls onto his forearms, touching foreheads together, noses together, lips hovering until you meet him in a sloppy half-kiss, tongue slipping over his, spit and sweat shimmering across your mouth.

Steve doesn’t bother taking his boxer-briefs off completely, crumpling them down just below his cock is enough for him to slide in like he was created for you. He tells you as much, as you whimper and cry out beneath him.

“Look at me,” He prompts, tilting your face so you see where he’s connected to you. He’s searing hot as he thrusts upwards. “You were made for this.” He’s delirious with it, the heavy thrum that flows through the union of your bodies, “You were made for me.”

Like a prayer, he repeats your name.

Inside of that deafening miasma, Steve is still awake and a part of him knows that this is what he’d been longing for. His cock is throbbing inside of you and every time he pulls out and thrusts back in, your cunt wipes any shred of doubt from his mind.

Your head tips backwards and he catches the base of your skull in one giant hand. “So good,” you praise, “You’re so good, Steve.”

God, he’s so hard. Cramming himself inside your body, torso to torso, as close as he can get because he needs it—he needs it so bad.

He’s blind with it, drunk off it, beginning to rut like he’s in heat, surprised at the confessions he burns into your neck g’na marry you, fuck— that have you gasping and clenching in equal measure. Catalogues and litanies of honey, baby, fuckfuckfuck, god—growling devotions sinking into your throat, your shoulder, your chest. Sucking inscriptions in the common tongue of love as they slip past his lips.

You take all of him again and again, matching his pace, eyes squeezed shut, opening briefly but dazed. Panting and pleading his name, sudden waves of orgasm making you shake and shiver. Then he starts again— easier, kinder, letting the beast work its way back through his skin. Tongue sweeping lines. Canines pulling flesh.

You sigh and smile. A sacred dream of flesh and blood wrapped around him. “Wanna see you, baby,” you say, “Let me see you, sweetheart.”

So he does, blinking through the darkness and finds you like a beacon, as you always are, as you always will be. His hair falls to one side, lighter from the summer sun, suspended and rocking along.

“’S that good? Like this?”

“Yeah. Yes,” he babbles, “Wanna give you everything.”

“Come with me, Steve—come on, baby.”

And it’s all so fast. Your words. His words. Your hands. His hands. Hips moving in heavy thrusts and hair falling over his face and endless moans of god, fuck, 'm gonna come at the last minute before his eyes roll back behind his lids.

Steve buries his face into your neck, groaning. “Mine,” he whispers finally coming back to himself. Raspy and slow and again when you gasp. Your nails dig into his back reflexively, thighs squeezing him tight.

He’s smiling like an idiot because he doesn’t know what else to do about it. His heart is fluttering and filling up. He looked at you for too long, thought about you too hard even though you’re right here and his, and maybe that’s what launched itself into his dizzy head.

A hard kiss that makes you whimper. Mine. Another to the line of your open jaw. Mine. Your throat. Your collar. Your chest. Mine. Mine. Mine.

You smile into his temple, rubbing your cheek on him, too. 

“Keeping me all to yourself?”

He nods eagerly, heart full, then overflowing. “Keeping you forever.”

[perotovar]

baby, i'm-a want you — (ch 1) "session one"

gif by me

pairing: joel miller/dieter bravo (just this time. main pairing is still javi/joel) rating: E (18+) mdni word count: 3.5k content: swearing, joel and tommy's southern accents being cute af, dieter being a menace, joel being awkward af (but it's cute), cringey porn dialogue, male masturbation (briefly), one (1) handjob, one (1) blowjob (it's messy), lmk if i missed anything! dividers: @saradika-graphics beta: @qveerthe0ry (ily ♥)

summary: javier peña has been doing this a long time. he's really good at his job. joel miller? not so much. he started doing this to get some extra cash to support his daughters. what happens when they're supposed to do a scene together? aka, the au where most of the ppcu boys are gay porn stars~

(read this first ->) prologue | series masterlist

Joel never would have guessed he’d do something like this ten years ago. Hell, not even five years ago. He’s not even totally sure how he got here, if he’s honest with himself.

He just remembers an, admittedly shady, business-looking man coming up to him and shoving a business card in his face. He asked if Joel had ever slept with men before. Joel was taken aback and thought he was coming onto him in a really bizarre way. He had, but that was none of this man’s business as far as he was concerned.

“There’s no pressure, I promise. Here, my website is on the card. If you see what you like, you gimme a call, okay?” The man had winked, grabbed his coffee, and left. 

Joel was left sitting in the middle of that coffee shop stunned into silence.

Later that night, sitting in front of the laptop Sarah nearly forced on him, he clumsily typed (using only his index fingers) the name of the website from the business card into the search bar.

Love Bites

The name and the man, Max Phillips according to the card, and his invasive question should’ve told him everything he needed to know, but Joel wasn’t prepared for the absolute onslaught of nudity he was met with.

“Jesus–” Joel mumbled to himself, slamming the laptop closed. Not that that would take it away, but he could hope. He sighed and looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head to himself. “The fuck you get yourself into, Miller?” He grumbled.

Slowly, and with one eye closed, he opened his laptop again. Once he got both eyes on it again, the website wasn’t… too bad. Well, it was still a porn site, but it wasn’t anything he hadn't seen before. He started looking around some more and didn’t bother turning it down. He lived alone now, both girls having moved out within the last year or so. He missed the hell out of them, and frankly, found himself bored more often than not. He and Tommy still owned Miller Contracting, but Joel stuck to the delegating and organizing part now. He had too many knee and back problems to keep up on the actual building part.

His finger rolled over to the “profiles” section of the website. He raised a brow and clicked on the trackpad hesitantly. There were several headshots of the men that made content for the website. He felt his cock twitch in his jeans and cleared his throat awkwardly, exhaling heavily. Well, it… had been a while. What could it hurt, right? 

He did have a lot of options…

Dark eyes trailing over the men on the site, he smiled softly. They all had little biographies that explained what their sexualities and preferences were. He snorted a little at seeing two different cowboys; one gay and a little older than himself, the other bisexual and perhaps around the same age. The younger cowboy had a prominent mustache and had a preference for “tying people up”. Bit on the nose in Joel’s opinion, but there was something for everyone. The older cowboy tended toward more amateur-style, “romantic” videos. Joel’s heart softened a little, but decided he wasn’t really in the mood for that sort of thing. 

In his search, he found just about everything; a messy haired, self proclaimed “adventurous” sort, a masked man that liked to roleplay, a clean cut looking man that considered himself a “romantic”. You name it, they probably had it. But his eyes landed on a particular man…

He had deep, intense eyes and a thick mustache. His hair was styled like he walked out of the 80s and he was wearing a thin gold chain. He had a bit of a Burt Reynolds thing going on, and normally that wouldn’t be something Joel was into, but this time, well… 

Joel clicked on his – Javier’s – page and started browsing the videos he had available. His bio said he was “fluid and polyamorous”, but Joel didn’t know what that meant. Wow, he was… popular. That didn’t surprise Joel at all, but his eyes landed on one of Javier’s “solo” videos. It looked like it was filmed in his apartment, but it probably wasn’t from how well lit it was. The video started off like Joel guessed all of them did; a fancy graphic with the words “Love Bites” in the center of the screen before the sound effect of someone taking a bite out of something, and a faint moan. The tips of Joel’s ears warmed, but he pressed on, watching Javier walk onto screen and sit in the middle of the couch that was in frame. 

Javier’s jeans were very tight, but maybe even moreso because of how fucking hard he looked to be. Joel swallowed a lump in his throat, his cock twitching again. Javier had an easy smirk on his handsome face, but he seemed like he didn’t have the cockiness that Joel expected a pornstar to have. The video seemed like it was personally sent to Joel and that thought made Joel’s cock stand to attention almost comically quickly. Unzipping his own jeans, he groaned at the constriction leaving, allowing him to breathe easier. He squeezed his cock and looked back at the video, Javier already getting started without him. He was stroking his own cock slowly, almost teasingly, biting a plump bottom lip. Joel moaned and shut his eyes for a quick second as he took himself in hand–

Ring, ring.

Joel groaned, squeezing his cock harder, and dug his phone out of his pocket. Tommy. He sighed and paused the video on Javier’s blissed out face and big hand wrapped around his–

Ring, ring.

“Christ, Tommy, what is it?” He grumbled, pressing the too-new-for-his-liking phone to his ear.

“Jesus, who pissed in your oatmeal this mornin’?” Tommy’s easy voice filtered in, a chuckle wrapped around his words. “And why are ya outta breath? Ya okay?”

“What–? Yeah, ‘m fine, Tommy. Why y’callin’?”

“Wonderin’ if ya could stop by tonight. Maria’s makin’ meatloaf and I know ya like it.”

Joel did really like Maria’s meatloaf. He sighed to himself and shut his laptop, his cock having softened considerably since hearing his brother’s voice. “Yeah,” he cleared his throat, trying to subtly zip up his jeans while he held the phone against his shoulder. “I’ll come over in a little bit, just gotta… gonna make a phone call.”

“Ooh, ya finally have a date, old man?”

“Can it,” Joel grunted. “‘M forty-three. Ain’t that old. And no, I was gonna call Sarah. See how her classes are goin’.”

“Send her our love, will ya? ‘N tell her she’ll have a cousin soon. Maria’s ‘bout to pop any day. ‘M scared to death,” Tommy sighed. The happiness was clear in his voice, though. Joel was happy for him, and smiled to himself. “How’s Ellie doin’, by the way?”

“Good. Think she said somethin’ ‘bout joinin’ a… roller derby team? Don’t rightly know, but,” he shrugged to himself. “Sounded like somethin’ she’d like, way she was describin’ it.”

Talking on the phone with Tommy always went the same way. He’d find a way to chew up a couple hours of your time, but Joel never minded. Once they said their goodbyes and their I-love-yous, Joel picked up Max Phillips’ business card and sighed, rubbing his thumb over the phone number.

What could it hurt, right?

That was two years ago. He’s been working for Love Bites for two years and had been avoiding Javier Peña as much as he could.

Joel’s never been good at… initiating conversations. Ellie would always give him shit for it. She usually went up to whoever had caught Joel’s eye and slyly made it her goal to get them to come over to him. 

But Ellie wasn’t here and she never would be. His girls knew what he did and even if they were a little concerned for him at first, they saw how much happier he’d been since joining. He was healthier, gaining a bit of “chub” as Sarah called it, and a healthier glow to his skin. He was on camera more often now, so he had to eat well and work out a little more. He didn’t do anything too crazy, and the audience that watched his videos had a lot of positive opinions and comments about his physique. It made him blush to think about it for too long, so he tried not to.

What was he saying?

Oh, right. Avoiding Javier Peña.

He’d had a huge crush on him ever since that first video he watched, and frankly, didn’t want to make a fool of himself if he talked to him. He’s filmed one video with him and it was the best Joel had felt in years. He almost came too quickly, and the video was supposed to be twenty minutes long. They had to pause so Joel could calm himself down, but Javier was patient and lovely with him. Javier had been doing this a lot longer than Joel had, so he wasn’t worried, which made Joel feel better. Just a little embarrassed. Afterwards, he had to leave, making up a story about seeing his girls for dinner that night.

“Javi!”

Joel’s eyes snapped up from his phone. He was in the middle of texting Sarah, saying that he’d call her when he got home from work. He had a scene with Dieter today.

And there he was. God. Joel’s cheeks flushed at the sight of Javier standing in the hall in his robe. He must’ve just finished his scene with Shane, the new kid. He couldn’t hear what he was saying, but the sound of Javier’s deep, commanding voice was enough to send a chill down Joel’s spine. Before he knew it, Javier was talking animatedly with Steve, another actor, as they walked off down the hall and disappearing around a corner.

He knew, realistically, relationships between porn actors could happen. Silva and Jake had been together for years. Joel’s problem with that was, well… Joel. His last real relationship was with Sarah’s mom years ago, and when the girls were in high school he had a relationship with this guy, Ezra for a while.

Smack!

“Jesus–!” Joel jumped, holding onto one of his ass cheeks protectively. Only one person would have done that.

“Hey, handsome,” Dieter grinned, sticking a hand down the back pocket of Joel’s jeans and squeezing. “Getting lost in Javi’s eyes again?” He winked.

“N-no! I am not,” Joel grumbled, finishing off his text and shoving his phone in his pocket.

Dieter snorted and rolled his eyes, then removed his hand to hold it out for Joel to take. “C’mon, big guy. You get to cum on my face today,” he smirked.

Filming with Dieter always felt good. He was a bit wild for Joel’s personal tastes, but he always made sure Joel was comfortable, and today was no different. 

Joel was playing a “plumber” that needed to work on Dieter’s “pipes”. This of course led to Dieter offering to “pay” in his own way. 

“Oh, come on, big guy like you doesn’t need money, right?” Dieter recited his lines expertly, running a hand down Joel’s t-shirt covered chest. “Bet it gets lonely doing this sort of work, huh?”

Joel had gotten a lot better at the acting part of things over the past couple of years. He was super stiff (and not in the right way) in the beginning, but now, he easily plastered on a smirk, eyes glued to Dieter’s lips. “Sometimes,” he shrugged, a big hand hovering over Dieter’s shoulder. Dieter saw the hand out of the corner of his eye and grinned, curling his fingers around Joel’s thick wrist and moving it down to his ass.

Joel smirked, squeezing the plump flesh appreciatively. “Bit forward o’ you,” he rumbled.

Dieter visibly shivered and bit his lip. “Sexy guy like you, of course I am,” he breathed. He leaned forward and kissed Joel messily, the hand on Joel’s torso moving down to unzip his jeans. Joel was already painfully hard and grunted into Dieter’s mouth when his pants were opened and lowered enough to pull his cock free. Dieter moaned and curled his fingers around Joel’s shaft, pumping rhythmically.

They stayed like that for a while; open mouth kisses, heavy breathing from Joel, and Dieter’s moans being picked up by the mics. 

Dieter pulled away to look down at the thick cock in his hand and bit his lip at the sight. “Fuck,” he groaned, his own cock twitching in his sweats. “Can I suck your cock?” He looked up at Joel demurely, eyes big and nearly black with desire.

Joel forgot he was supposed to be acting for a minute and grunted, hips bucking into Dieter’s grasp. “F-fuck, yeah,” he nodded, eyes glazed over. Dieter smiled and guided Joel over to the couch on the set. Technically, Dieter was supposed to get on his knees in the “kitchen”, but he knew Joel wouldn’t be able to stand for that long with his back problems. Sometimes Dieter’s improv classes came in handy. Max couldn’t complain too much, as long as Dieter sucked Joel off, then the video was still following the script.

Joel grunted as he sat, hard cock swaying slightly. Dieter giggled a little and happily got down on his knees, hands traveling up and down Joel’s thighs appreciatively. “Such a pretty cock,” he hummed, licking his lips as he watched it twitch in front of him, a drop of pre-cum gathering at the tip. 

“Why dontcha put that mouth to use, then?” Joel smirked, gripping the base and tapping the head against Dieter’s cheek. “Want your discount, right?”

Dieter smiled and opened his mouth wide, eyes shut in pure bliss. Joel gripped Dieter’s messy curls and held him still as he hit the head of his cock against Dieter’s tongue. Dieter moaned and opened his eyes, watching Joel’s face for any cues to stop. They never came, but it was something they all had to keep an eye on. When everything seemed to be going well, he happily wrapped his mouth around the head of Joel’s cock and started bobbing his head up and down.

He moaned, the vibrations traveling down Joel’s cock and up his spine, making Joel groan in return. “Mmm, knew you’d be good with your mouth,” he grinned, holding the back of Dieter’s head to set a pace Joel liked better.

Dieter heard a cameraman move to his right to get a better angle of his mouth, so he amped it up a little. He got messier, saliva dripping down along the sides of Joel’s shaft. Joel moaned weakly, resting his head on the back of the couch, but keeping one of his hands tangled in Dieter’s messy curls. Dieter started bobbing his head slower, eyes locked on Joel’s face as he moved further down his shaft, taking as much as he could down his throat. He choked slightly and pulled off, pre-cum and saliva covering his mouth and Joel’s cock. He smiled up at Joel and panted heavily, curling his fingers around the base to pump the thick cock.

Joel’s eyes rolled back and he grunted, hips bucking off the couch. “C’mere,” he breathed, heavy work boots landing heavily on the set floor as he stood. “Gonna fuck your face.”

Dieter shivered at the low timbre of Joel’s voice and nodded happily up at him. He pulled his sweats down and gripped his own cock in hand and started stroking himself rhythmically. Dieter opened his mouth for Joel obediently and nearly choked again when Joel shoved his cock down Dieter’s throat. He moaned weakly when Joel’s hips started moving, his heavy balls slapping against Dieter’s chin.

Dieter just had to take it, the lewd sounds of Joel fucking his face filling the otherwise quiet room. He fucking loved it because Joel was subtly massaging Dieter’s scalp and it sent shivers down his spine. His fist was almost a blur over his own cock and tears leaked out of his eyes, a blush high on his cheeks.

“Mmm, bein’ such a good boy f’me,” Joel grunted, biting his lip to rein it in a little. Dieter moaned at the praise, eyebrows downturned in pleasure. “Yeah? Like bein’ my good boy?”

Dieter whined and nodded as best he could, eyes completely glazed over. Joel slowed down his hips a little and let Dieter breathe for a minute. Dieter panted hard, a near-dopey smile on his face. “Come on my face,” he breathed heavily, extending his tongue for Joel. “Please.”

It was Joel’s turn to shiver as he slapped the head of his cock against Dieter’s face again. “Gonna have to earn it,” Joel smirked, reciting his lines as well as he could. 

Dieter whined and pouted up at him, his own hand slowing down a little. He didn’t say anything, letting Joel continue.

“Make me come, and I’ll paint this pretty face o’ yours.”

Dieter’s face lit up and he curled his fingers around Joel’s shaft. He watched Joel’s face while he wrapped his lips around the head and bobbed his head. His free hand held Joel’s hip and subtly moved to his ass and squeezed. He moaned around Joel’s cock and shut his eyes briefly before obediently looking up at him, big eyes wet and innocent. 

“Atta boy,” Joel grunted, cupping Dieter’s face lovingly. Dieter removed his mouth to kiss down his length as he stroked him, attaching his lips to one of Joel’s balls. “Mmm, fuck,” Joel breathed, tipping his head back. 

The hand on Joel’s ass moved slightly until one of Dieter’s fingertips prodded at Joel’s asshole. Joel grunted in surprise and smiled down at Dieter. “Really want me all over ya, huh?”

“Yes,” Dieter nodded, sucking one of Joel’s balls into his mouth. “Please.”

“Keep talkin’ like that and– ooh, fuck – Jus’ might get your wish,” Joel panted, shutting his eyes. He felt the build up in his lower stomach, his cock twitching violently in Dieter’s hand. “C’mere, baby boy,” he grinned, taking his cock back to stroke himself over Dieter’s face.

Dieter was buzzing, lifting Joel’s t-shirt to lovingly caress his hairy tummy, mouth open wide and obedient. 

Joel felt his balls draw up and his hips buck until– “Fuck–! Shit,” He moaned, thick ropes of come spurting out from the tip of his cock and landing on Dieter’s face and mouth. He caressed Dieter’s hair, thick fingers massaging his scalp while the other hand stroked himself until his balls were completely empty. 

Dieter happily licked his mouth clean, and hid his face in Joel’s stomach, whimpering into the sweaty skin. He moaned weakly, his entire body trembling as he came, completely untouched. Dieter was the only one in the cast that could do that, and he loved showing it off as much as he could.

“Shit,” Joel smiled, petting Dieter’s sweaty curls back and out of his face. “Ain’t you a sight.”

“Cut!”

Dieter deflated, a huge grin on his face. He started giggling into Joel’s stomach and smiled up at him. “Fucking love your cock, Joel,” he hummed happily.

“That’s what you always say,” Joel snorted, helping him up onto his feet. Dieter was a little wobbly still and cuddled into Joel’s side. He always got a little clingy after a scene, but Joel didn’t mind. As different as they were, Joel would probably consider Dieter one of his closest friends. It always worked in their favor, their natural chemistry and closeness coming through the cameras.

They were handed a couple towels and some water, the both of them taking them gratefully. Max came up to them, his usual shit-eating grin on his face. Joel always thought Max reminded him of a vampire, with that mischievous glint in his eye that always seemed to be there.

“Great show, boys,” Max started. “Dieter, d’you mind if I steal Joel away for a second?”

Dieter whined and clinged onto Joel tighter. Joel grinned and hugged him back. “Sorry, boss, looks like he ain’t leavin’ anytime soon.”

Max rolled his eyes, but continued anyway. “Fine. Meant to tell you earlier, but things got rolling, you know how it is–”

“What is it, Max?”

“You’ve got a scene with Javier tomorrow.”

If there were a record player anywhere, Joel would probably hear it scratching right about now. Dieter paused too, and looked up at Joel with worried eyes. He knew all about Joel’s crush, and was always telling Joel to just go for it. Joel froze briefly, but tried to school his emotions as best he could.

“O-okay, um. What time?” He asked shakily, gripping Dieter’s fluffy robe tighter.

“I’m thinking around noon? That way Javier can prepare, y’know?”

Preparing was always done before a particularly intense scene. Joel tried really hard not to think about Javier wearing a plug for a while before coming to set. 

“Right,” Joel nodded, cheeks going a little pink. “I’ll be there.”

“You’re the best, Joel!” Max snapped his fingers and walked off, talking to a couple of assistants. 

Dieter tapped on his chest and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “You really gotta say something, Joel,” he said softly. 

Joel sighed and nodded. He knew that. 

He just didn’t know what.

[sincerelywhistler]

You’re an Angel

aka 🚨 MENACE ALERT🚨

More Angel headcanons (ft. David) under the cut!

- Had angel fang piercings for a bit in college

- Cannot pick a favorite color, it changes every single day

- Spotify is their best friend; they have the most specific and niche playlists ever

- Professional photographer!! So skilled!! Fuck canon interpretation why does everyone have an office job!!

- “I saw this one hack on TikTok-”

- Gets super anxious when David works later than planned bc of Inversion trauma :D

- Once the clock hits the time his shift/event was supposed to end, they’re texting him every 30 minutes to check in. David understands and is eager to respond the moment he’s able to

- Changes wardrobe styles at the drop of a hat

- Blasts music through their headphones and dances a whole ass routine while cleaning the house

- David fears for their hearing, always shouting “I SHOULDN’T BE ABLE TO HEAR DOJA CAT FROM THE ACROSS THE HOUSE, ANGEL.” But the dancing is honestly impressive so he lets it slide

- “What if I dyed my hair blue?” “Do you think I’d look cool with pink hair?” “Should I dye my hair purple one day?” “How about like a really dark kind of burgundy?” proceeds to never dye it

- 186424742 Minecraft worlds, they’re a skilled builder and sucks ass at PVP

- Scarily good at mental math, like, they can be like a walking calculator it’s so odd. Helpful for helping Davey with calculating pack expenses though! Too bad they can’t spell for SHIT

- Had a gymnastics phase that lasted forever until they fell in love with photography

- Can (and will) give Davey one hell of a chair dance 😳

- They’re very crafty! Lots of their house decor is DIY but looks store-bought

- David knows no peace when it’s time for bed bc Angel is practically moshing in their sleep. If he doesn’t act as their weighted blanket and smoosh them into his chest so they lay still, they’d probably wake up half way across the house

- Their laughter so contagious it can cure every ailment within a 20 mile radius, especially when they accidentally snort