#he had me fooled for a second!!! for One second i was thinking he was a Good Boy

[hoshigray]

hear me out🙏 imagine student body president!sukuna and delinquent!reader😍 same scenario but just switched

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i hear you, loud AND clear !!

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: student body president! Sukuna x bratty delinquent fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern setting; you and kuna are college seniors - oral (m! + slight f! receiving) - face + throat fucking - clitoral play (sucking) - impact play (cheek + pussy slaps) - fingering (f! receiving) - standing + piledriver positions - unprotected sex - overstimulation - dumbification - degradation (brat, cumslut, pig, slut, whore) - blackmail - dick piercing (frenulum) - mention of drool/spit and tears.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 0.7k

If there’s one thing that Sukuna loves more than anything, it’s power.

For Sukuna, the pinnacle of power is not just a status but a destiny he believes is his alone. In his heart of hearts, he knows he is the one who can keep this school in check, his control palpable in every corner of the campus.

Having Ryōmen Sukuna as the student body president of the senior class was either the best or worst thing, depending on who was asked. Although intimidated by some faculty and professors, they saw him as a significant influence on maintaining the students’ behavior for the college’s image. As for his peers, some would vouch that he was the scariest person they've ever met within their college student’s behaviors on campus. As for the students…whether they made sure not to get in the salmon-pink-haired man’s way, did as they were told, or generally avoided getting in his bad side all around, the truth was known in the air: Sukuna is a force not meant to be reckoned with. 

So, dealing with people who stand in his line of power will be dealt with — especially brats like you.

You were the biggest thorn in Sukuna’s side, a true innocent fool who dared disobey him without fear of consequence. For one, you were such a disrespectful minx, always speaking to him with such a foul mouth as if his aura that frightens others doesn’t shake you down. You bat your eyes at him during his lectures, dumb doe eyes that flutter with dull eyelids as if not a single word from his mouth was processed in that mind of yours as you’ll just wound up doing the exact shit again within a week or less. You have no amount of respect for his superior status, treating Sukuna like some big shot. 

“Tah, you don’t scare me, Prez!” You mocked with a laugh. “You and your little tattoos can go somewhere and make the other babies piss their pants and leave me the hell alone. Mind your business and stay outta mine.”

God, to say you were insufferable was scratching the surface. Sukuna can admit that nothing in his last year of college would allow him to experience absolute euphoria than crushing that childish grin off your face. It’s all he can think about whenever he has the misfortune of seeing your name or catching your face in the halls on his way to lectures and meetings.

But then again, if he can’t discipline you in the way he wanted on school grounds, it doesn’t mean you’re safe from him on the outside.

And then, like a miracle to his prayers, he finally had the dirt to give him all the more motivation. His second in command, Uraume, had found some evidence of your inappropriate behavior on the school’s campus. Pictures and videos alike, his smile grew bigger the deeper he looked into it.

Images of you flashing your bare tits in what seems to be a party in one of the dormitories and some drunk guy motorboating your chest, another of you smoking weed in one of the laboratories, which were undoubtedly smoke-free, and one portraying you fingering yourself in while sucking off one of the basketball athletes in the gymnasium men’s locker room. And the cherry on top was explicit videos of yourself that would tarnish the school’s reputation and have you expelled in seconds — absolute music to Sukuna’s ears. 

The thought of destroying your image and exposing you to the filthy bitch you have put a spark of joy in the student body president’s cruel heart. But what would the fun be if he threw this evidence out all at once? He was a man who loved to drag out the torture of his victims. So, when he pulls you aside, to your dismay, and showcases the dirt he has on you, the look on your face? Not even a picture would be enough for him to enjoy such a glorious reaction. He never thought he’d see where you’d beg and plead to him on your knees, only fueling the superiority within his stance.

However, he likes to play with his food. So, he’ll put his hands up, “Alright, fine, I won’t take this to the higher-up…” yet the smirk didn’t match the comfort expressed. “On one condition.”

And for said condition? To use you and see your talents for himself.

“Damn, this mouth really knows how to work, huh?”

Oh, to be fucking your face in the student body government lounge isn’t something he’d expect. But holy shit, is he not fucking complaining. He throws his head back as his pelvis relentlessly smacks the plump of your soapy lips. His hands grabbed your head and forced you onto his length, which you were crying on like crazy.

Tears roll down your face; the harshness of his ruts sting like hell. You could only grip his jeans to steady, yet the more he bullies his dick into your throat, your train of thought becomes more impossible to follow through. 

He slaps your cheeks, “Pay attention, bitch,” he curses from above and yanking you by the ear. “Loosen that jaw of yours and suck me off like the cumslut you are.”

Your glare gratifies him, watching you obey his words and hollow your cheeks. Jesus, the tightness of your throat has shivers crawl to his shoulders.

“Mmmff! Mmmm!!” Your muffled whimpers were all his ears could pick up on, and they made him sigh heavenly. He peers down to meet such a naughty image: your lips coated in saliva and his precum bubbling and piling with every snap and pull of his hips. Your tears and furrowed brows gave him the hugest ego boost of his life, making the devilish superior push feverishly into your mouth. 

“—Mnnph! Yesss, yeah, that’s right; keep cryin’, you fucking brat.”  Fuck, he’s so fucking close; your mouth and tongue were doing mad work for him to release, busting his load into your throat and succumbing to you to drink and accept his semen.

Balls deep to your lips, saliva mixes with salty tears, striking down your chin. You swallow every bit of him with a satisfied hum, eyes rolling up when he grinds his pelvis for his dick to go deeper.

But that doesn’t mean you should rest — hell no. Sukuna rips his erect limb out of your mouth and pushes you to your back with a kick. You couldn’t interject as he pushed your legs to your chest. An exotic position that exposes the damp spot of your thong from your lifted skirt. 

The president tsks at the display with a sneer. “Fucking slut, so wet from just sucking me off.” He slides the underwear and is welcomes to your scent and taste when he glides his tongue to your clit. “You really are a fucking bitch in heat, huh?”

His tongue pets and laps around your labia, lubing your vagina with his spit while slurping your essence that messes around your inner thighs. You’re choked up, whining from his tongue fucking the entrance of you and licking your clit.

“—Ohoo! Hoohh, Sukunaa, pleaseee,” you slurred from the suck of your clit, his tongue pushing it and grazing his teeth with the delicate bud. “Hahhhfuckk, put it innn, ‘Kuna, I want—Daaahaa!!” You cried at the slap of your cunt, stinging your sensitive clit from the rough palm of his hand.

“Don’t tell me what to do, brat,” another smack to your slit as you cough up spit. “Such a broad, only thinking with just your pussy.” Although, he had to admit, seeing your pussy wink from his hits and teases made his pride sing. With a low chuckle, he straightens up, your anticipation climbing up when he brings his middle and forefinger to wet with saliva.

Yet a record scratches at the feel of something wet around your asshole, the digits pushing and teasing your puckered entrance. Begs fly out you’re mouth, but they substitute with a scream when his fingers manage to insert inside and massage around your walls.

“What, you thought I was just gonna play with that pussy like you wanted?” He laughs at your cries, stroking his ego from your anus, clamping onto him with the scrape of his fingernails. “You got some nerve; only dirty pigs like you get dirty rewards.” You gasp at the withdrawal of his fingers, and he whistles at the sight. “So here ya go, little slut…”

Sukuna aligns his cock to your rear, pushing it with no care for your lack of preparation. You scream at the insert of his cockhead and piercing, and the stretch that comes along his inches burrowing inside causes more tears to fall. But not in pain—the expression on your face showed no sign of resentment. 

“Haaahh, yeeesshh,” your hands come to the back of your ass to help the position you’re in, the angle making your writhing figure jolt. And it gets better once Sukuna’s hips go at a mediocre pace. “Shooo goood…!!”

Your hands find Sukuna’s ankles when his frenulum piercing jabs you with precision with the increase of his erratic thrusts. High pitches and shrieks fill the student body lounge, skin slapping against each other, creating an inappropriate sound. Like Sukuna cares, though; fucking your ass on the floor with no grace — so much for a president.

“—Khheh, hooohshiiit, pig can’t even speak properly, making such a ruckus.” It’s true; you showed no restraint in concealing your wails. If anything, they get louder and louder with the clasp of your butthole on his length, drool spilling from your agape mouth. “Noisy ass acting all dumb on my cock.” 

The graze of his piercing gets worse every second; shit feels way too good, like his balls smacking down your ass. But you couldn’t foresee his next move; Sukuna slipped his middle finger inside your chasm and wiggled around your vagina. A strong yelp erupts from your body from the “come hither” motion that scratches your upper walls, and you can’t help but let yourself go.

Your climax has you howling, your holes contracting with force from every passing wave that rocks your core. You pant heavily, milking the dick that continues to plunge into your ass, Sukuna groaning at the grasp of your anus and the walls around his middle finger. 

He then pulls his digit out and brings it to his mouth, sucking your liquids with a smirk. “Not bad, broad.”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[safination]

The Wrong Competitor

|Masterlist| Ao3| Pairings: Alastor x wife!Reader. Platonic! Vox & Reader Tags: fem!Reader, AFAB, Established Relationship, , Alastor is in hell for a reason, Reader is in hell for a reason, being a simp for your partner, husband! Alastor. demon!Alastor, drinking ,flirting

Vox approaches with a steady and confident smile. There are two drinks secured around one hand. The other reaches out for a handshake. Alastor takes a step forward, using his body as a barrier. “Just a friendly one,” Vox says, a charming smile on his screen. “It would be a shame to ruin the Princess’ evening. The music is lively and the food and drinks are delicious.” Alastor’s eyes twitch from underneath the mask as he sees you reaching out. Well, that won’t do. He takes the handshake intended for you, shaking Vox’s hand with a firmer grip than needed. You’re determined to enjoy yourself and Alastor prides himself on being a husband. So, he won’t cause a scene—not today at least. The handshakes last longer than handshakes should last. Vox slides his eyes towards you, a smug smile displayed on the screen of his lips. You tighten your hold around Alastor’s arm, leaning to his bicep to hide your scowl. TLDR: The Hazbin Hotel decides to hold a masquerade party. Despite his better judgment, Alastor invites his wife even if he’s aware of Vox’s attendance, who’s keen on competing with Alastor for his wife’s attention….If only Alastor knew how much you and Vox would gag at the idea of him flirting with you. It’s not his wife’s attention that Vox competes for. It’s not even Alastor who he’s competing with. Actually… Alastor isn’t part of the competition.

Have a little brainrot of mine. Lol just pure on crack of the silliest shit. Tell me what you guys think because I found this so fucking hilarious that I had to write it down. Anyway, have my heavily unedited brain rot. I tried a different writing voice today instead of my usual third person-second person pronoun pov, and tried like an all around pov. Update: *6/19/2024 We lost electricity at home so instead of studying, I decided to polish my un-polished crack. Everything's the same, it's just written better and I didn't add much.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Alastor slithers out of the shadows below, stepping out from the darkness that pools underneath you. There are hundreds  of shadows to pop out of, still it’s your shadow that Alastor chooses to spring out from. There’s a smile painting his lips as he materializes. A deer mask covers half his face.

“Goodness,” you say, mirroring his smile. “What am I supposed to do when strange yet handsome Sinners pop out of my shadow without a warning.”

Alastor steps further into the light. “Handsome?”

And oh…oh.

(Oh, indeed. Alastor is wearing a tail-coat, a vest hidden underneath. Oh god he’s wearing a vest. One side of his hair slick back, allowing stray strands to flutter around the deer mask. When you run your hand across his biceps…you feel it underneath your touch—Sleeves garters.)

The smile on your lips widens, and you’re thankful that a mask covers your own face. “I’d call you handsome any day, sweetheart,” you tell him. “If it’s alright with your wife, of course. Such a charming little thing like you surely belongs to someone.”

“I think I like you better than my wife.” Alastor inches closer to press a kiss. “She never compliments me as much as you do.”

A delighted humm escapes you. “Then she’s quite the fool, for you are quite the charmer.”

Alastor shakes his head, a small laugh escaping as he smoothens some feathers that stick out your head. “You didn’t have to join me tonight,” he says. “I’ll be too busy with work to be next to you.”

“Then you should have thought about that before you gave me an invitation to Charlie’s party.” You reach out to smoothen the lines of his tail-coat, pulling on it to adjust its fit around his body. “And I’m already here, wearing a very, very, expensive dress.”

“Do you even enjoy such parties?” Alastor grabs your wrists before your hands can trail any further. “It seems your mind would rather be somewhere else.”

“There’s food and music, and I get the excuse to wear such a lovely dress.” You pull your wrist from his hold, catching his hand to intertwining your fingers with his. “Do you like it? I hope you do, considering I received it along with the invitation.”

Alastor lifts his arm, twirling you underneath to flare the skirt of the dress. “You look almost as dashing as I do.”

“Ha! And that’s precisely why I must join you, deerest.” You smack his bicep in good fun, barking out a laugh. Dear god, he’s wearing the leather sleeve garter tonight.) “With such dashing good looks, I’l fear others may try to take your attention.”

He flicks your nose. “Stop it.”

Alastor slips off the deer mask, gazing straight into you. Those eyes of his shine brighter than the stars above this Hell. He reaches out, and pulls on the ribbon that secures your own mask to your face.

There are feathers on your mask. It mimics the bird you are. Alastor inches closer, staring straight into you once there’s nothing to obstruct his view.

“That’s mine,” you say, trying to grab your mask.

Alastor shoves the deer mask on your face. The force causes you to stumble back a little. He’s such a nuisance, honestly…but …but well, his fingers brush over your feathers as he ties the ribbon on his mask. 

Strands of your feathers flow between his fingers as it lingers. Alastor presses the feathers to his mouth, brushing them with his lips. “I think our masks are a bit too on the nose,” he says, and each word caresses your feathers. “Deer masks suit you much better, and this way, I can spot you from even across the room.”

Alastor inches lower until you meet his eyes. You take the bird mask and tie the ribbon around his head, securing it on him.

There’s a feather that sticks out your head. Alastor picks it out. The stray feather gets waved around until he tucks it within the mask.

You reach out to remove the feather, but Alastor catches your wrist and presses a single kiss on the inside.

“The color of my feathers are different from the ones on the mask,” you tell him. “Come on, take it out. It sticks out a bit too much.”

“I’ll have you know that I quite like the feathers.” Alastor plays with the feather on his mask. “More importantly—tell me about your day. I want to know every second of every minute…it’s been a while since I’ve heard from you.”

“You would know all about my day if you were living at our home with me,” you tell him, crossing your arms. “You know, the home that we’ve built together for the past few decades?”

Alastor plays with the edges of your pinky before intertwining his fingers around your hand. “Or…” he begins, and presses a single kiss on the wedding ring around your finger. “I would known if you lived at the hotel…with me.”

There’s a smug smile on you. “Are you asking me to live with you?”

“Would you?”

“I would.”

“I’m still rather hesitant to involve you with the hotel…yet I found myself sending an invitation anyway.” Alastor presses a kiss on the edge of your lips, letting himself linger. 

“An invitation?”you say, faking a gasp. “That’s weird because I swore the invitation came with a dress as well. Hmmm, now I’m wondering who sent such a piece to me.”

“I found myself sending an invitation…and a dress.” Alastor rolls his eyes. “But the point still stands, it’s safer if you are at our home. It’s quiet and secure and doesn’t have a giant sign pointing straight at its door.”

“Ah yes…that,” you say. “I heard about it on the televisi—newspaper. It must be tiring to be attacked thrice in one day.”

Alastor shakes his head, pulling you into a tight hug. One hand presses on the back of your head, cradling you gently. “Just before I lose you to my job.”

You steal a kiss from him. “As if you could ever lose me.”

Music beats through the cracks of the Hazbin Hotel’s door. Alastor escorts you inside, a bird mask on his face as he runs his thumb up and down the skin of your hand. You adjust the deer mask on your face before following him deeper inside.

The door opens easily, and you walk inside, arm in arm with the Radio Demon. The fun about masquerade balls is being able to hide behind a mask.

 Except from those who really pay attention.

Vox approaches with a steady and confident smile. Two drinks are secured around one hand. The second reaches out for a handshake. 

Alastor takes a step forward, using his body as a barrier.

“Just a friendly one,” Vox says, a charming smile on his screen. “It would be a shake to ruin the Princess’ evening. The music is lively, and the food and drinks are delicious.”

Alastor’s eyes twitch from underneath the mask when he sees you reaching out to shake Vox’s hand.

Well, that just won’t do! Alastor takes the handshake intended for you, grabbing Vox’s hand before you can reach it, and shakes his hand with a firmer grip than needed.

You’re determined to enjoy yourself, and Alastor prides himself for being a Husband.  (Rosie tells him that there’s a difference between ‘a husband’ and ‘a Husband’ with one clearly better than the other.) So, Alastor won’t cause a scene—not today at least.

Vox slides his eyes towards you, a smug smile displayed on the screen of his lips as he shakes Alastor’s hand. It forces you to tighten your hold around Alastor’s arm, leaning into his bicep to hide a scowl.

The handshake lasts longer than handshakes should last.

Vox offers you a glass. “I brought drinks to start,” he says, keeping the second glass around his hold closer to him. “I hope I’m remembering this correctly—but you still enjoy lemony flavors, correct?”

“How delightful!” Alastor tries to take the drink intended for you.

Vox quickly retracts the drink, taking a single step backwards. “It’s for the lady.”

Alastor’s smile widens ever so slightly into a snarl.

You take the drink from Vox, smiling as lemony goodness fills your senses. Not many bartenders keep such flavors. Part of you wonders if Alastor organized the bar to keep your favorite drink in stock.

One hand trails up Alastor’s back as static emits from his skin. It snakes around until it hooks behind his neck to pull him into a kiss. It’s just a quick peck of the lips, but Alastor places a hand around your waist to pull you closer. Such things are reserved in the confines of privacy, but it seems he doesn’t mind tonight.

There’s an imprint of your lipstick on his skin. It’s something you don’t bother mentioning to him

“Just before I lose you to the crowd,” you say.  “I’m sure you can’t leave your post for so long, and I’ve already kept you for far too long. Don’t worry about me—I won’t be too far from your gaze.”

Alastor presses one last kiss on your cheek before walking away.

With a scowl on his screen, Vox turns the other direction.

You trail behind him, smiling at the second untouched drink around his hand. It seems he’s also wearing a tail-coat tonight, but it doesn’t suit him as handsomely as it does for your husband.

“So, it seems you're here,” Vox tells you, that proud Overlord puff on his chest as he walks around the room. “And here I was wondering why the life in the room suddenly became dull.”

“Funny,” you say, matching his steps. “It seems you’re still pining for my husband—Will you ever give up on him?”

“Ah yes…the same husband who disappeared on your for seven years,” he says, casually swirling the second drink in his hand. “He left you once, he can leave you again.”

You take a sip of your drink, letting the taste of lemon slide down your throat even as your eye twitches from underneath the deer mask. “It’s quite hilarious to know you still remember how my husband hates lemon undertones in his drink.”

“Well, I didn’t want him choking on such unrefined tastes.”

“Is this meant for Alastor?” You grab the second glass from his hand, bringing it closer to your nose. “Whiskey. Ah… it was meant for him. What—were you too scared to give it to him?”

Vox barks out a laugh, crossing his arm. “It’s for me, actually.”

“Then drink it.”

“It’s been compromised by your stench.” Vox takes the glass and tosses it away.

From across the room, Alastor swirls his whiskey and allows his eyes to wander across the crowd. In a room full of Sinners, he can never be too careful especially when you’re involved. It’s then that his eyes catch Vox inching closer to you, and it’s then that his grip on the glass tightens.

Charlie smiles at Alastor as he doesn’t seem to be listening to her. That’s alright—it’s quite loud and drinks often tend to loosen him up. Alastor’s looking at her, but his body faces the crowd as he leans on one of the tables. It’s almost as if he’s looking out.

It’s been the same pattern for almost fifteen-minutes ever since Alastor came back with a bird mask instead of his own deer mask. Charlie would say something, and he would nod. From time to time, Alastor would glance out into the crowd in the same direction his body is facing.

“So, I had an idea to get more sponsors,” Charlie tells him, tapping the glass for her soda. “We can do a whole music number with flowers and dancing and singing, and I just thought you could be our main lead! The genre would be rap music.”

Alastor’s eyes slid to the crowd once more. “What a spectacular idea!”

Charlie follows his gaze until they land on you. Well, that certainly solved the mystery of where his deer mask went and where the bird one came from. One of the feathers on Alstor’s mask matches yours perfectly.

“Do you think we can get more TVs for the hotel?” she asks. “And I don’t mean the old ones, but the flat-screens that are about fifty-inches.”

You glance over at Alastor and Charlie when you notice their looks, and offer a small smile and a wave.

Alastor smiles back, giving you a wave as well. “Perhaps.”

“How about some digital cameras?” she says. “All of us could take a happy family portrait.”

“Of course.”

Wait-staff carry trays of different types of appetizers. Vox snatches a couple tiny platters, offering some to you. The first bite causes you to hum with delight. It’s quite delicious…but quite small. Vox offers another tiny plate to you, and it’s grabbed enthusiastically.

It’s great that Vox took more than one.

He bites into the cracker with some kind of seafood on them, humming at the taste. “You’ve aged.”

“Yes, it seems I have.” You laugh at him, shaking your head as you take another sip of your drink. “I’m quite lucky that I’m in the company of my husband to grow old with. It’s quite the treat to be able to live day to day with Alastor.”

Vox offers you a bite of the cracker.

You take it, nodding and humming with delight at the taste. “Oh, that’s quite good—here, taste this one.”

At the sight of your laughter, Alastor’s drink shatters into tiny pieces of broken glass. It shatters to the floor.

Charlies raises an eyebrow at him. It only takes a snap of her fingers for magic to work its wonders and clean the broken glass and replace his drink.

“Apologies,” Alastor says, smile widening just a fraction. It doesn’t fully reach his eyes. “I forgot my own strength.”

Once more, Charlie follows Alastor’s gaze until it lands on you, and once more, the glass in his hand shatters when he sees Vox inching closer to offer you some appetizers and then your laughter.

Charlie snaps her fingers and a new drink appears in his hold. “I’m going to run out of glasses eventually.”

Alastor takes a turn around the ballroom after Charlie kicks him away from the corner. It’s all he can do to call his growing ire to keep the guests happy. Afterall, it’s him who controls his emotions and not the other way around. There’s also the matter of his job.

A Sinner blocks his patch, a doll-like smile on her face. “Do you happen to be the Radio Demon?”

“In the flesh!” Alastor’s smile widens to show off the yellow in his teeth, giving a little bow.

“I wasn’t sure with the mask,” she says, motioning towards it. “My friends said they spotted you earlier with a deer mask, but it seems you’ve changed it. I quite like the feathers .... Although, the one that’s different kind of sticks out.”

A muscle in his cheek tightens. “I’m quite fond of that feather,” he says. “It means quite a lot to me, and I don’t take kindly to those who insult what is precious to me.”

“Oh…of course,” she says. “It suits you quite well.”

She points a finger towards his bowtie. It seems it’s a bit crooked. There’s a smile on her face as she reaches out her sully hands to fix it.

Alastor takes a single step back, making it a point to show it off to her that he’s doing so.

The doll-like smile on her face wobbles a little. That’s fine. Alastor always hated dolls. “Oh…um…,” she says, scrambling to recover. “There’s a stain on your lips.”

His ears flicker for a moment, but he runs his thumb across his mouth. Red stains his gloves. It’s the color of your lipstick. “It seems I do.”

“Been drinking too much wine tonight?” She offers him a handkerchief.

“No need.” Alastor takes out his own handkerchief. It has his initials carefully embroidered on them.  He goes to wipe your stain on his lips, but decides against it. “The wine they serve here is quite bland, but luckily there’s something much sweeter on the palate.”

Her smile fades into a frown when she notices the embroidery on the edges of his handkerchief.

Alastor continues to stand with a smile as she tries her best to compliment him in the smallest of ways. It’s quite nice to hear such compliments that inflate his ego.

Although… It's a bit weird.

The thrill of sudden recognition doesn’t hit as high as before. It’s just stagnant now. Praise doesn’t thrill him like they should.

Alastor allows his mind to wander, and his ego inflated to the highest degree when he imagines you standing before him instead, saying the things this random Sinner tells him. (He should figure out a way to get you to compliment him more.)

Plates of food and dozens of empty glass litter the bar table. It’s the aftermath of downing unlimited alcohol and enjoying some appetizers as insults are hurled that not even a merciful god can forgive.

Vox takes a bite of the olive and flicks the toothpick that came with his drink. It lands between your feathers.

A curse escapes your mouth as you try to dig it out. “Why are you even here?”

“It’s a party.” Vox hands you another drink. “I like the music, the drinks are unlimited, and this is quite fun.”

The drink gets downed in one gulp, and you flick the toothpick at a passing Sinner’s hair. It lands between the strands of his hair. “That’s one more point for me,” you say, pumping your fist. “Come on, TV boy—give me my point.”

Vox’s head flashes. It goes from his face to a screen with both your names on it. The number below your name increases on point before his face returns once more.

You shimmy a little dance as your point increases.

Vox makes a face, cringing at your dance. “You’re such a fucking loser.”

“Ha! His loser,” you say, sticking out your tongue.

“You’re still five points down,” he tells you, scowling as he grabs a passing drink from a waiter. “Why suggest this game if you’re not even good at it.”

You shrug, grumbling a little. “I always win against Alastor.”

“Are we not going to get in trouble?” Vox swirls the drink in his hand. “This is still a royal’s party.”

“Aren’t you an Overlord?” you say, taking another bite of a cracker. “Act like it. I mean, it’s not like anyone’s going to call you out.”

The music catches your attention, and it pulls your focus to the dance floor. Oh…Alastor’s dancing. His broad back puffs out as he moves across the floor with purpose and grace. There’s a charming smile on his face as he dances along the beat of the music.

That looks fun.

 It would certainly be a shame to waste such a beautiful dress by blending in with the decorations on the walls.

You turn to Vox. “Care to dance?”

Vox takes another toothpick, flicking it. It missed the Sinner’s hair. He curses while you pump your fist. “With you?” he says, making a face “Ew—no, that’s disgusting.”

“Alastor’s dancing right now,” you say. “It looks fun.”

Vox raises an eyebrow and glaces to the dance floor. A snarl appears on his lips when he notices that smug smile on the woman dancing with Alastor. “A new challenger?”

You tilt your head, and feathers slide across your face as you observe Alastor dancing. Oh, Vox’s right. There’s a woman with him right now. “Oooooh, who’s that? She’s quite the belle—smash.”

Vox turns to you, making a face. It’s quite funny to see. “Do you even know what that mean—”

“I know what I said.”

His screen shifts and paragraphs of information appear on his face. “Oh…she’s one of the daughters of the Ars Goetia.” The scowl on his face deepens as he continues watching, and he offers an arm towards you. “Come on—let’s dance. Game on, bitch.”

“Just ignore her,” you tell him. “She’s no threat to me, and I allow you to flirt with Alastor all the time.”

“That’s because I play fair,” Vox says, rolling his eyes. “We have our rules, and it creates order. This bitch doesn’t know that…and hasn’t someone ever told her—three’s a crowd.”

Once more, you turn to the dance floor. Alastor’s graceful movements catch your eyes and a delighted hum escapes your lips. His body dances with control and power. There’s awe in the woman’s face as Alastor dances with her. 

That’s alright—she’s only doing her due diligence.

Only a blind fool wouldn’t appreciate how Alastor’s hair sways with each side-step, or how his tail-coat fits handsomely across his back, or how charming his smile paints across his lips, or how the dress-pants he wears compliments how long his legs are.

Vox may be a fool but at least he isn’t blind.

“Holy fuck! Woman—get it together!” Vox points towards the dance floor, to the Sinner dancing with Alastor.

There’s a triumph in her smile. She dances with Alastor as if she won.

Vox watches your expression carefully, chuckling as a cold look steels your face despite the gentle smile. Oh, it is so on.

“Well, this just won’t do. If there’s one thing I hate—it’s those who don’t know their place,” you say, snaking your arm around Vox with a smile. “Game on, bitch.”

Vox escorts you towards the middle of the dance floor, that proud Overlord puff back on his chest. It’s quite easy to match his movements when he always was quite the talented dancer.

“Hey…,” you say, eyes twitching. “What are you doing?”

Vox’ hands hover above your skin, refusing to make contact. “I’m afraid that if I touch you, my life would turn to ruin like everything else that has had the misfortune of meeting you,” he tells you, a triumphant smile on his lips. “And you’re doing the exact same thing!”

“That’s because I’m married. It would be improper of me to be touching such a slimy Sinner.” You slam the point of your heel right on his shoe. “My apologies…it would be much easier to dance if you’re actually holding me.”

Vox steps on your toes, and you snarl at him. “You first, witch.”

“As you say whenever Velvette tells you to take a bath—no thanks.”

“The I guess you say the same thing about shampoo—”

“May I interrupt?”  There’s a wide smile on Alastor’s lips that show off the yellow in his teeth. He stands in the middle of the ballroom, not caring as others give him weird looks for blocking the path. Alastor stands proud as his hand offers itself to you.

Across the dance floor, there’s an irritated look on the woman’s face when Alastor abandoned her mid-dance. There’s a smile on your lips as you show her what real triumph looks like.

Vox smiles at him, and hands you towards your husband. “Of course.”

He takes your hand, playing with the tips of your fingers before intertwining them. A hand snakes around your waist to pull you flush against his chest. The music flows slowly across the room. It’s sweet melodies forcing you to lean your head on his chest.

Alastor squeezes your hand.

You squeeze back.

His legs slide between your as Alastor dips you low, a hand on the small of your back to support your waist. He takes the lead in this waltz, spinning and twirling your around while pressing himself as close as possible to you.

The side of his cheek, nuzzles into the crown of your feathers as you’re swayed around the ballroom.

“I’ve found myself in a bit of a corner,” you say, snaking your hand up and down his back as if to pet it. “I owe Vox two dances. You interrupted the first, but there’s still the matter of the second one.”

Alastor’s hand tightens around you, and shadows flare around the room. It causes dancing couples to instinctively take a step away. “Did he force you into a deal?”

“Not at all,” you say, nuzzling into his hold. “I lost a bet, that’s all. You know me, I get rather competitive, and got a little bored a while ago after getting my fill of food and drinks.”

 “I’ll take your place so just stay far away from him.” Alastor’s smile turns into a snarl. “Don’t worry, he won’t bother you again after this.”

You go on the tip of your toes to press a kiss. “Thank you.”

Alastor twirls you underneath his arm. “I never got to ask…,” he begins. “How do you like my outfit?”

“It suits you very well, my love,” you tell him. “In fact, I have to say that you are the most handsomest of handsome, and those pants really do you some justice.”

Alastor flicks your nose. “Stop it.”

“Should I really?”

“No…,” he says, leaning into your ear. “I want to hear more.”

The dance ends eventually, and Alastor behind you with one hand on your shoulders and the other holding you to escort you like a gentleman.

Vox greets you with a wave, another drink around his hand.

You step out of Alastor’s hold and press a hand on Vox’ shoulder to whisper into his ear. “As you dance with my husband, I want you to know that he’s taking your hand only because I allow it,” you tell him with a smile. “I want you to know that it’s only possible because of the permission I grant you.”

Vox snorts and offers a hand out for Alastor. “Understood.”

The musicians play their instruments and music once again fills the dancefloor. Sinners stay paces away as Vox and Alastor dance, especially given the threatening expression on Alastor’s face. It’s funny how Vox doesn’t seem to mind Alastor’s darkened gaze.  The irritated look on your husband's face makes you a bit guilty. Oh well, you’ll make it up to him later.

The dance ends, and both Vox and Alastor go their separate ways once more. There’s a twinkle in Vox’s eyes as he gives you a small nod of farewell. It has you shaking your head.

Alastor wipes his hands before taking your hand once more. “Let’s go.”

“Already?” you say, frowning. “We’ve only had one dance so far.”

“We can dance to your heart's content, my love…just not here,” Alastor says, fixing the straps of your dress. His hands ghost around the zipper, and it lingers there for more than a moment. “Apparently, I’ve maxed out my working days. Charlie told me it was in my contract and I have to spend them before I can go back to work at the hotel. She practically kicked me out. So, I have the next few days off.”

“That’s good.”

“Shall we go?” Alastor brings your hand closer, pressing a kiss on the ring around your finger. “Home—our home.”

“Really?” you say. “You’re going to go home with me?”

“For the next two weeks.”

Alastor watches your smile brighten as your eyes crinkle. It’s the most precious thing in this ballroom, and its radiance can light up the whole room. You spring up to hug him, squealing as you wrap your arms around his neck. The force of your hug causes him to take a couple steps back to keep from falling over. Alastor places a hand on the small of your back to steady you.

His bowtie is crooked. 

You point towards it,and reach out a hand to straighten the fabric. Alastor takes a single step forward, leaning down to allow more access. The pads of your thumb smoothen his crooked bowtie.

Vox catches your eyes and he toasts a drink in your direction.

You remove the wedding ring around your finger, slipping it over your middle finger instead. The ring and the finger are presented to Vox as you leave with Alastor’s arm around your waist.

Game on, bitch.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Alastor whenever someone flirts with you : hiss hiss, get away from my wife. Reader whenever someone flirts with Alastor: Fucking understandable. Finally, someone with good fucking taste. This is so funny and silly. Vox and Reader are so sibling-coded that it wonderful. I love fan-fiction. I love how unserious it can be

[starryeyedjanai]

counting the days till i'm coming home

lake monster steve fic steddie | Explicit | part 1 of 4 | read on ao3

The first time Eddie stumbles across the monster in Lover’s Lake is right after he fails senior year for the second time.

He doesn't know it’s the monster everyone talks about at first—because no one has ever really seen it.

People only talk about how there’s something in the lake, something that sometimes pulls people under, something that’s been there since before Eddie was even born.

He’s sitting at the edge of the lake—just watching it ripple, thinking about how he’s probably going to be stuck here, in Hawkins, for the rest of his life—when he sees something moving out of the corner of his eye.

His head snaps over to look—because for as long as he’s been coming out here to Rick’s, he’s never seen anyone in the lake.

But there’s someone in there now.

This guy, he’s almost ethereal looking—smooth tan skin, hair slicked back from the water.

“What are you doing in there?” he asks before he can stop himself.

The boy looks up at him, his eyes lighting up. He swims over to Eddie—he’s fast, probably faster than anyone on the swim team even.

“Hi,” he says after he stops a handful of feet in front of Eddie.

“Hi,” Eddie says, almost breathless.

He’s even more gorgeous up close, with his full mouth and doe eyes and moles dotting his face and neck and shoulders.

“What are you doing in there?” he asks again.

“What do you mean?” the boy asks.

“People say there’s a monster in the lake. You should be careful.”

A smile tugs at the boy’s mouth as he says, “People say a lot of things. But nothing’s ever happened to me when I swim here.”

Eddie nods. People say all kinds of shit, so he isn't surprised that the monster in Lover’s Lake is probably just a myth that got repeated too many times.

“I’m Eddie,” he says, wondering where this guy came from. He doesn't recognize him from school—he’d remember a face like that—so he must be visiting relatives or something over the summer.

“I’m Steve,” he says, drifting a little closer. “You should come in the water sometime. It’s nice.”

Eddie smiles. “Maybe sometime. Not exactly dressed for it right now though,” he says, a little ruefully, looking down at his jeans.

He kind of wishes he had the confidence to strip down to his briefs and dive into the water, feel its cool touch on his overly warm skin. He’s been sitting out here a while now—and now that he thinks about it, he doesn't remember hearing a splash when Steve got into the water. He must have really been distracted by his thoughts.

Steve shrugs and wades back further into the lake. “I’m here all the time, so if you ever decide to come in, I’ll find you.”

Those words haunt Eddie after he leaves the lake, after watching Steve disappear under the surface and not seeing where he popped back up.

He sees Steve in his dreams that night, whispering the words I’ll find you over and over as he reaches out as if to touch Eddie, but the touch never lands on him. He spends the entire dream craving that touch, wanting it, but never getting it—just listening to him tell him he’ll find him.

He wakes up in a daze, thoughts only on the boy in the lake—his voice, his hair, the way his skin looked in the sunlight.

He slips a hand in his boxers and he isn't surprised to feel how wet he is. The dream was confusing and weird, but craving someone’s touch isn't new.

There have only ever been a handful of guys here in Hawkins that he’s been attracted to, but he’s always only ever crushed on them from afar. There’s no way he’d risk the wrath of some backwater jock by hitting on him.

There’s something alluring about Steve though, even though from what little Eddie’s seen of him probably suggests that he’s also a jock. But he’s not from here. There’s something about that that makes it less scary, thinking about approaching him, asking him if he wants to fool around.

Worst thing that could happen is that he gets the shit kicked out of him and can't go to Lover’s Lake for the rest of the summer. But Steve will be gone back to wherever he came from come September. A guy like him has probably got plans for college already neatly lined up, swimming scholarship or whatever sport he plays that makes him almost inhumanly fast in the water.

So he thinks about it as he touches himself. Thinks about going back to the lake and finding him there, waiting for Eddie.

I knew you’d come back, he’d say when Eddie dove into the lake.

Eddie imagines being brave enough to wade close enough to feel the heat of Steve's skin.

He’d say something like I came back for you or something equally as cheesy.

Eddie fucks two fingers into his cunt, the palm of his hand grinding against his dick as he thinks about Steve reaching out just like in his dream, but this time actually touching him.

He thinks he’d probably gasp at the first touch of Steve's fingers grazing his skin, touching his tits, thumbing at his nipples.

His breathing picks up as he thinks about Steve's hand slipping between his thighs, touching him like he’s touching himself now.

Maybe he’d spin him around and let him feel the expanse of his chest pressed against his back as he touches Eddie’s dick with deft fingers.

He’d press them tight together so Eddie could feel how hard he is for him, just for him.

Maybe he’d take him like that, right there in the lake for anyone walking by to see. He’d press inside him, stretching him out on his cock until Eddie's eye crossed from the pressure building inside him.

Maybe he’d turn Eddie's chin with his free hand and kiss him, slow and deep as he fucks into him from behind.

Eddie comes with his fist pressed against his mouth to keep the noises from spilling out as he clenches around his fingers, riding it out.

He sinks boneless into his sheets, still thinking about warm brown eyes and big hands all over his body.

[mustainegf]

BROOOO 91 JAMES AND THE READER R IN A HOTEL AND LIKE SHE WANTS TO TEASE HIM SO SHE RANDOMLY STARTS PLAYING W HERSELF AND WONT LET JAMES TOUCH HER SO HE STARTS GETTING FRUSTRATED and you write the rest 🥲

Added some cute stuff at the end cuz you know me, I’m a fools for the lovey stuff

𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐋 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 ¹⁹⁹¹

The night was quiet, me and James finally had some time together, he didn't have another show for 2 days.

Since getting back to our hotel room, we'd been lazing in bed, just relaxing and enjoying each others company. But me being me, it was hard to only enjoy the company, and not the distinct bulge in his jeans.

I'd been trying to ignore it as best I could, but with every second that passed, my desire for him grew stronger.

He noticed I was looking at his dick and his eyes twinkled, knowing exactly what I wanted.

I hummed softly, glancing up at him as my hand gracefully slipped under my lace panties. I was only lounging in them and a shirt, so James had a nice view of me.

I heard the rustling sound of his pants moving over his leg as he got comfortable. My fingers began to rub gently over my slit, bringing more moisture down on my pussy lips.

I was so wet already, I knew this wasn't going to take long. I slowly slid one finger inside myself, not too deep, just enough to tease me.

My body shivered as I moved my hand faster, wanting to come all over my fingers. "Stop fucking teasing me," James said in a gruff voice. His voice was so sexy when he was like this.

"Hmmm," I moaned softly as I added another finger. "I'm not done playing yet."

"Baby, you need to let me touch you," he demanded. I smirked, glancing at him with a mischievous look. "Mmmm, you know I like to play," I replied seductively.

I retracted my hands, slipping off my panties, making James think I was giving him what he wanted. He sat up to get a better look at me, but before he could do anything, my fingers resumed their dance, my raw and dripping opening on display for him.

"Oh fuck, babe," he growled, watching me work myself into a frenzy. I wanted him so bad right now. So very badly. "Let me help you," he pleaded.

"Not yet," I purred, dipping my fingers inside me once again.

"Baby, come on, please." James begged, watching closely at the precise ministrations I gave to myself.

"I will, soon," I teased, adding another finger to my entrance. I couldn't stop myself from thrusting against my own hand, chasing my orgasm.

Ilooked up at James, locking eyes with him as I brought myself closer. His breathing accelerated as I stared at him, pinning him with my gaze. "So pretty," he said huskily.

I smiled, continuing my movements. "Please, please baby, let me touch you," he whispered, watching me like a hawk. I bit my lip, still playing, still denying him.

"Beg for it, Jamie," I grinned, working my fingers as he watched.

"Come on, don't make me beg," he smirked back at me, leaning to kiss up my tummy. "Hm? You want me to beg to make you cum? Beg to be inside this pretty pussy?" James teased.

"Fine. You win, Hetfield." I giggled, my hands slipping through his hair.

"Oh thank god," he chuckled, pulling my hips to him, burying himself between my thighs. "That's what I like to hear," he cooed, wrapping my legs around his waist, pulling him closer to me.

The feeling of him sliding along my slit was exquisite. Ileaned forward, licking his neck, feeling his hardness pressing against my clit. I ground my hips up against him, and I could feel his tip penetrating me.

"Ilove you, James," I smiled, the sincerity in my voice more powerful than our soon to be lovemaking.

He shuddered at my words, nuzzling my neck, whispering "I love you too, pretty"

A soft groan escaped my lips as he pushed inside me.

My arms wrapped around his neck as he drove deeper. "Yes, baby, yes," I cried out as he filled me.

"You feel so good inside me," I sighed, tilting my head back as he continued to slide in and out of me.

"You have no idea how much I needed this," I breathed, rolling my hips against him, dragging him further in. His lips pressed against mine, his tongue invading my mouth, just like he was doing with his cock.

I was already so worked up from my fingers that I knew I would cum soon.

"James, James... please, I need to cum." I begged, clutching the sweaty shoulders of the man I loved so much.

"Just say the word, babe, just tell me what you need," he replied, my body undulating underneath him. "Now, please, Jamie, please."

I gasped as my orgasm hit me, flooding his cock with my release. He stilled momentarily as my orgasm took hold, letting me ride out the pleasure that had taken over me. "There you go, keep cummin' honey."

James gradually slowed, even though he hadn't cum yet, he didn't want to overwhelm me. "You did so good, such a good job."

He murmured, kissing the top of my head. I shivered as he kissed his way down my neck, my body humming with satisfaction. We stared at each other for a long time before eventually softly laughing. He was so handsome. "James.." I smiled.

He leaned his forehead on mine, brushing my hair behind my ear. "Hm?" He hummed with a gentle smile.

"You're just as handsome as the day I met you," I whispered.

[crepesuzette2023]

hiiii wanted to say thank you for all the fic recs and ask if you might recommend some longer titles ? i normally go for like 10k words max but I have a long drive coming up and am craving long form ! maybe mclennon primarily but like I'm flexible if it slaps

With extreme pleasure: some of my favorite one-shots are over 10k. And there's been some great ones lately.

But starting with the classics: Now and then (there's a fool such as i) (@stonedlennon). The Nerk Twins travel to Caversham in 1960. Call me by your name vibes, but in mclennon. And Lifting Latches/Writing Postcards (thinkpink20). Early days, clothes swapping, pining.

More recently, I loved Monkey's Paw (@planetaire). Tokyo 1966. The tension! The relief! Paul's ass in the striped suit! Even longer, by the same writer: don't talk, take my hand (1968 angst, with an unexpectedly bright/weird ending!)

tomorrow, I'll miss you (@pauls1967moustache) is another absolute classic. Mclennon 'Before Sunset' AU: John stayed behind in Hamburg...years later, he and Paul meet again.

The two latest ones by @scurator are also great: Where the Spirit Meets the Bone (All of Us Strangers-inspired AU with a hopeful ending) and The Theory and Practice of Gamesmanship (John/Brian/Paul, say no more, *fans self*—just gorgeous, esp. Brian).

There's some great McHarrison in the @beatleskinkmeme Summer of Love collection, which made me think of two longer Paul/George/John faves: No I in Threesome (@with-eyes-closed) and A Wrench in Clocks (honeyheffron).

Stop All the Clocks (@javelinbk). 1967. John and Paul mourn Brian in Scotland, and discover they are in love. Sweet and healing. second that emotion (@backbenttulips): John and Paul on tour in 1964. They explore each other body and soul.

For a lighter turn (had to think about this often lately for some reason): The Jumper by @merseydreams. 70's. Denny Laine wears the sweater John has given to Paul many years ago. John sees a picture of it, and wants it back. The sweater, of course. This is not about Paul! (Also, watch out for Linda in this one! <3)

If you're into omegaverse (actually, even if you're "normally" not): There are two long I Need You Darlin' (@beatlessideblog) extras. Act Naturally (Paul has the ambition to plan and control John's heats; John consents; they fail in the sweetest way possible), and Boxing Day 1958 (their first time trying it 'the other way around').

[ticklygiggles]

Definitely not a sleepover | Uenoyama, Hiiragi & Shizusumi

A/N: Second to last fic commissioned by Max (@wertzunge)! Thank you so much for your patience and support Max! I hope you enjoy this one! Thank you for inspiring me to finish Given hehe. I hope they're not too ooc!

Summary: He could have been spending the night with Mafuyu, but why was Uenoyama stuck with these two?!

Words: 1k+

Uenoyama couldn't believe that he really swallowed every word Hiiragi said to convince him to spend the night at his house.

“It's going to be a very special night training, Ue! You cannot, by all means, miss it. Otherwise you'll be a trashy guitarist.” 

Special night training my ass! Uenoyama thought as he found himself in front of the tv in Hiiragi's room. He wasn't quite sure when it happened, but when he realized, Hiiragi had put on a musical and the three of them had gathered under the kotatsu, a large bowl of popcorn in the middle of the table. Not even twenty minutes into the movie, huge tears were already streaming down Hiiragi’s cheeks and he wiped the snot off his upper lip with the sleeve of his sweater. 

On the other hand… Shizusumi next to Hiiragi watched the movie with disinterest, Uenoyama thought even boredom, while he stuffed his mouth with popcorn, his cheeks puffing out like a squirrel's, and when he had swallowed the bite, he gobbled down a chocolate bar or a bag of chips. 

This was ridiculous! When was that stupid training going to start?! Of course never! Uenoyama had been fooled! Feeling like the vein in his forehead was about to burst with every sniffle he heard from Hiiragi, Uenoyama stood up, grabbing his jacket. 

“Since I see you two are very busy with your special training or whatever, I'm leaving!” 

“Huh?!”

Tch! To think he had to give up the chance to have a sleepover with Mafuyu just because of Hiiragi's silly games. He's so infuriating! 

“I don't have the time to waste it with you. I have things to do and- ack!”

Something closed around his ankle and prevented him from taking another step; Uenoyama fell face first against the wooden floor and gasped as he felt a pillow saving him from a blow that could have possibly killed him. Face flushed with anger, he turned around and saw Hiiragi gripping his ankle tightly. He opened his mouth to shout something, but instead of a scream, almost hysterical laughter came out as he felt fingers wiggling underneath his socked toes. 

Hiiragi was tickling him?! 

“What- AHAHA! S-Stohop! What ahare you d-dohoing?!” Uenoyama tried to wriggle his foot out of Hiiragi's grip, but it seemed like he had an iron shackle around his ankle. Hiiragi skittered his fingers up and down Uenoyama’s sole, tickling the ball, the arch, the heel and under and between his toes. 

Uenoyama had always been a ticklish person, his sister had made sure to remind him about that during most of his childhood, but as they started to grow up, the one sided tickle fights had stopped and Uenoyama barely got tickled after that, but it seemed that no matter how much time could pass, he would always be a ticklish. 

“You cannot go, Ue,” Hiiragi said with a mischievous grin on his face as Uenoyama squirmed and banged his fists against the floor. “This is actually a special training for you! We decided to teach you how to smile more, otherwise, you see, Mafuyu will stop loving you, right, Shizu-chan?” 

“Mhmm,” Shizusumi hummed uninterested, his eyes still fixed on the tv and his mouth full of popcorn. 

Uenoyama growled, “YOU-! He w-wohon’t- ack!” He squealed embarrassingly loud when he felt Hiiragi’s fingers climbing up his leg, his thumbs pressing against the back of his knees and rubbing at the muscles, making Uenoyama cackle.

“Look at that, Shizu-chan! Uenoyama really can laugh! I thought it was impossible!” 

“S-Stohop tickling mehe!” Ritsuka thought he never hated being ticklish that much until that moment.

A deep blush was spreading across his cheeks and no matter how hard he tried to stop laughing, the cackles would easily escape from between his lips as Hiiragi scribbled at the back of his knees. Uenoyama didn't even know he was ticklish there, which added more to his embarrassment. He made sure to write down the spot on his mental list of embarrassingly ticklish spots on his body. 

“H-Hiirahahagi, you b-better s-stop or ehehelse- ahaha! N-Not there! Nohohot there!”

Hiiragi's nimble fingers found his ribs next and Uenoyama laughter not only increased in volume, but it also became more frantic and panicky, making his laugh sound high pitched. 

“You're doing very well, Ue!” Hiiragi said, chuckling mischievously to himself. “At this rate, Mafuyu will not hate you anymore!” 

Uenoyama growled again. Since when did Mafuyu hate him?! Gathering all the strength he could, he was able to lift himself a little and throw Hiiragi off him. The other boy fell on his back and whined before suddenly startled laughter poured out of him. 

“AHAHAHA! N-Noho! I'm s-sohorry! I'm sorry! Sh-Shihizu-chahan! Hehelp!” 

Uenoyama laughed evilly, in the heat of the moment, he even straddled Hiiragi's waist, his fingers going to town all over his torso, jumping from his ribs to his tummy and then to his sides and even under his arms. Hiiragi looked almost childish, his cheeks were pink and his mouth was stretched out into a bright, happy smile. 

He can smile like that, huh? Uenoyama thought, perhaps a bit too distracted to notice Hiiragi's fingers coming closer and closer to his ribs until it was too late and he found himself cackling again as Hiiragi pushed him off and pinned him.

“You want to play, huh? Let's see if you- AHAHAHA!” 

Uenoyama wasn't sure how, but this whole situation had become a war. In one moment he had the upper hand, tickling Hiiragi until he was shrieking, but at the next, he was the one squealing and laughing his head off. Some other times it was the two of them filling the tiny room with hysterical peals of laughter as they both squeezed the other's sides or ribs. 

But, Uenoyama had to admit it, he was simply too ticklish, and Hiiragi had found that rib that always made him see stars. He thought he was going to die laughing. It was such a shame he didn't get to say goodbye to Mafuyu and his family. What an embarrassing thing it would say in his epitaph: 'Beloved son, brother and boyfriend. Died from a tickle attack.' That was a bit- 

“Ack! Sh-Shizu-chan?! I was getting Ue, why- ack! Aaag! Nohoho! STOHOP!”

Uenoyama was too busy trying to stop the giggles still pouring out and catching his breath to notice that Hiiragi was currently suffering an attack just as intense as the one he was subjected to. When he finally could sit up, he saw Shizusumi pinning Hiiragi's arms under his knees, his hands lost inside the short sleeves of Hiiragi's shirt, his fingers digging into his armpits. 

Poor Hiiragi was pink in the face, laughing hysterically and kicking his legs like a mad man. Uenoyama almost felt bad for him, but he deserved it for being so annoying. Shizusumi had probably had enough of his noise and silly games, but Uenoyama jumped in fright when Shizusumi turned to look at him with some kind of smirk on his lips. 

“Hiiragi was too mean right now, wasn't he, Uenoyama?” 

He looked so scary!

“U-Uh… yes.”

“I wasn't! I wahahasn’t, plehease!” 

“Why don't you come here and help me get him back, hmm?” Shizusumi invited him, his fingers not stopping for even a second. “If you're brave enough, you can tickle his hips, he's very ticklish there as well.” 

Hiiragi begged not to and that was enough to convince Uenoyama. The guitarist smirked and sat over Hiiragi's legs, his hands latching to the other's hips, pinching and squeezing until Hiiragi was in hysterics. His laughter was kind of nice, just like his singing voice. Uenoyama thought that Shizusumi and him were making him sing in some kind of way and that made him chuckle softly.

“You can also try his stomach. Right in the center, yes. You can vibrate your fingers- yes, just like that.”

“Sh-Shizu-chaHAN! D-dohon't be m-mehean! I'm dyiHIHIng!” 

“Behind his ribs as well.”

“Shizuhuhusumi!” 

Hiiragi was tickled until no laughter came out and Uenoyama got worried his voice would get damaged from laughing so much and so hard, but Shizusumi reassured him, saying that he usually tickled him like that and he could sing perfectly well afterwards. Uenoyama was not surprised at all, that sounded very ‘Hiiragi’, after all. 

He watched the poor vocalist sprawled against the floor, breathing heavily with his arms still above his head, although Shizusumi wasn't holding him down anymore. He was just slightly sweaty, and blushing to his ears, but overall looked fine and the smile on his face just refused to disappear. Uenoyama could feel his own lips curling into a little smile as well, but he stubbornly tried to hide it. 

“Hey, Ue,” Hiiragi called him, still laying on his back, a bit breathless. “What about I show you where exactly Mafuyu's most ticklish spot is?” Uenoyama perked at that and he nodded. Hiiragi smirked. “Hehe, I'll even teach you how to tickle him right, and our kind Shizu-chan will help us.”

Uenoyama looked at Shizumi, confused. The drummer was staring daggers at Hiiragi and Hiiragi was smirking at him. 

“Because, you see, Mafuyu and Shizu-chan here share tickle spots.” 

At that, Shizusumi got up at once, startling Uenoyama. He was ready to run out of the room, but Hiiragi caught him before he did so, and made him fall face first just like he did to Uenoyama. He was quick to straddle him and Uenoyama was surprised when he heard Shizusumi’s laughter. High-pitched nothing like his usual voice, but still a bit too deep to sound scary.

“C'mon, Ue! You'll definitely make Mafuyu the happiest if you know these secrets I want to tell you!” 

Uenoyama blinked, seeing the scene before him and wondering what the hell was happening, but it didn't really matter. He smiled and nodded, holding Shizusumi's arms as Hiiragi told him all about how to tickle Mafuyu in that spot that was making Shizusumi lose his head. 

He definitely was not expecting this evening to go like this– after all he was there for a special course or whatever… but he couldn't lie and say he wasn't having fun. Well, a sleepover with Hiiragi and Shizusumi wasn't too bad after all!

[autumnmobile12]

In Chapter 3 of Ambush Simulation, I wrote that Touya plays piano, and I wanted to further expand the thought process behind that choice, especially since whenever the fandom has him playing an instrument, I usually see fanworks of him playing a guitar.

(Also, Ryouta.)

First off is the reason given in the fic notes: The piano aspect revolving around Touya rehabilitating his hands after the fire/coma.

Second of all was the idea that his teacher was his grandmother.  For context, the relationship between Grandma Himura and Touya is a brief and tragic one.  As stated in the chapter, she has since passed away, but what’s important is she came to see him after he returned and that visit became an almost permanent one.  After learning he was dying, Rei and Endeavor both shut him out, whether it was guilt over what had happened to him or not wanting to get attached.  As an elderly woman already approaching the end of her life, Grandma Himura has that poignant understanding that time is running out for both of them and she chose not to squander that.  There’s also the idea that she may feel as though she failed her daughter, and so she’s trying to make amends as best she can through her grandson.  How the piano fits into this narrative:  The Himura family strikes me as a ‘traditional role’ family.  As in the women aren’t making particularly strong waves of rebelling against the patriarchal hands they’re dealt.  Under those circumstances, a piano is a far more ‘respectable’ Western instrument for a lady to play compared to the snooty attitude against something as ‘uncouth’ as an acoustic guitar.

Following that snobby train of thought with the third point, there’s also the unfortunate fact that piano does have a cloud of elitism hovering over it compared to other instruments, so that’s some more social bullshit for Touya and his ‘unsightly’ appearance to navigate.

Another thought that went into this is how a piano is a very noticeable and public hobby as far as a household is concerned. You can practice violin or guitar in the privacy of your own room, but a piano, especially one as big as a parlor grand, demands its own space. Practicing with other people in the house means them overhearing both your good and your bad moments, but it's easier to fool yourself into thinking no one is listening if you're in your own room with the door shut as opposed to being in the open in a communal space. Hence why he does not like either Endeavor or Shouto overhearing him.

...

The idea that Touya teaches though?

I can trace the inspiration for that back to this screenshot from Klaus:

Because he would be this person.

But there is more to Alva's character that's gone into this inspiration. If you haven't seen the film, I recommend it. It's actually a pretty wholesome Christmas movie. If not, you can find Netflix's official clip Klaus: Learning to Write on YouTube. That's pretty much what I had in mind when writing that element in this AU.

[callmelittlebuttercup]

Peace Offerings Pt. 16

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Chapter Summary: As they make their way back to Jackson, the Reader and Joel make a discovery that sparks a desperate hope in Reader and causes them to stray from their original plans to return to their haven.

Chapter Warnings: pitfall trap, claustrophobia, blood, mentions of stab wounds. (A pretty tame chapter ;))

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part Sixteen

It wasn’t without pain or sorrow, but Joel and I were making good time on our travels back to Jackson. He’d stopped trying to fill the empty space with distracting dialogue, but he showed he cared in other ways. Since he understood why I could no longer stomach it, he took the jerky for himself and harvested berries and roots for me to fill up on, along with the bread Tommy had snuck us. He handed me our shared canteen every once in a while, making sure I was hydrated, and other small things like that. One thing I appreciated more than anything was that he never asked me how I was doing. I hated that question even before tragedy struck. No one wanted to hear the real answer and always expected you to say “good how are you?” I obviously wasn’t good, so Joel knew there was no point.

I was walking inatentively behind Joel when my foot kicked something hard and a melodic sound rang out. I looked down to see a blue, metal canteen at my feet. My stomach squeezed when I realized how familiar it was. I dropped down to pick it up and turned it around in my hands. The lump in my throat grew larger when I read the name scribbled onto it. 

Matthew Doe

My hands quivered as I stared at the memorabilia, questioning if it was real. Joel had noticed I wasn’t behind him by now and was standing there, trying to be as patient as possible. “What’s that?” he ased as he made his way towards me. “It’s…” I gulped and held the bottle up to him, “It’s Matthew’s canteen.” 

His face dropped as his eyes wandered over the sloppily written signature. “It was his from scouts in high school. Must’ve kept it.” I observed. Joel’s face was now twisted into a puzzled look. “What?” I questioned. He stared at the bottle, looked around us, and then took the map Tommy had given him out of his backpack. “We’re taking an obscure route back. Definitely not one that the watch would take out this way. It’s strange that we’d find his stuff out here if he was… if he died back there.” He thought aloud. “What are you saying?” I asked as a hopeful feeling bubbled through my chest. He breathed deeply and pressed his lips together. Definitely deciding whether to tell me this information or not. “Joel,” I pushed, standing up and grabbing the his hands which were still wrapped around the canteen. He took another breath, “I don’t think he really died at David’s.” My hands were still ontop of his and they tightened around them with anticipation. “So you’re saying…” I began to speak, but he cut me off, “I’m not saying he’s alive, but I think he at least managed to escape.” I stepped away, suddenly feeling a second wind of hope. “I have to find him.” I breathed. My name left Joel’s mouth cautiously, “Let’s be realistic.” I turned to him, “Joel, he could still be alive. I have to find him.” I said again as I began to desperately search for footsteps in the snow. “If you won’t go, I’ll go by myself.” I demanded. He sighed and didn’t answer me for a moment. I gave up and continued to search, pretending not to care whether or not he followed me. “We can look for him if you promise to not get your hopes up. I can’t see you like that again.” Joel blurted from behind me. My eyes met his pitiful ones and I nodded, “I promise. Come on.” 

I was lying. I most definitely had my hopes up. The possibility of Matthew still being alive was the one thing I needed to keep going. Of course it would destroy me all over again to find out he really was dead, but I would be a fool to not take the chance that he could be out there somewhere. 

About 20 feet away, footsteps began to appear in the snow. They manifested in patches of untouched snow. It was like puting together a puzzle piece, but the line of prints was somewhat straight. “Seems like he knew where he was going.” I said aloud as I kept my head trained towards the ground. “That’s because there were two people.” Joel said, pointing out the fact that there were a total four footprints next to each other in each track. “So others in his group survived?” I asked. “Maybe.” Joel shrugged. I felt a smile creep its way to my lips, but I couldn’t let Joel see my optimism and swallowed it down. 

After 30 minutes of following tracks, I felt Joel’s hand wrap around my arm and yank me back forcefully. I glared at him, but he pointed to a barely visible piece of string pulled tought between two trees. “Tripwire.” He grunted, “We’re in someone’s territory. Stay behind me from now on.” I nodded and followed his demand, never letting a distance larger than three feet come between us. 

Joel kept his eyes forward and I kept mine on the ground, looking for tracks along with any more booby traps. The coast was clear until Joel stopped in his tracks, causing me to slam into the back of him. He reached a hand around to steady me. His response being on the opposite end of the spectrum from when we first started our journey. There was no gruff “Watch where you’re going.” No scowl of disapproval. Just a gentle, protective hand curling around my waist. My hands clung to his back at the first sign of trouble and I reluctantly removed them from his warm, muscular form. “What is it?” I asked as I peeked around him. “S’a pitfall trap.” He informed me. The tone of his voice was low. It usually dipped further into the bass clef when he was concerned. “Don’t think these people are gonna be very friendly. You sure you want to get involved here?” His stare was intense as he questioned me. I swallowed hard and nodded, “We’ve gotten through worse before, I’m sure.” He cocked his head to the side and raised his eyebrows before turning around and cautiously feeling out each step to make his way around the trap. I followed behind him, though not as close as before. 

Clearly not close enough. After my next step the ground gave out from under me and I tumbled down into the pit, landing hard on my back. The impact knocked the breath from my lungs and I gasped desperately for air as I sat up on my elbows. Joel immediately leaned over the edge, sheer panic spread across his face as his arm was stretched out towards me. “Shit. Grab on, quick!” He urged. The world felt like it was spinning as I peeled myself off of the ground. I used the wall to keep me upright as I moved to where his hand was outstretched. I reached up as high as I could, even stood on my toes and tried to climb the wall a bit, but the distance between us was still too wide. I heard Joel curse under his breath before standing up and turning to walk away. “Are you going to leave me here?” I asked shrinkedly. “No, I’m not going to leave you here. I’m going to find something for you to grab onto.”  He said it like I was stupid. I sighed and slapped my hands over my face. He was angry at me again. Unlike just minutes ago, we were moving backwards.

Suddenly, I heard a gun cocking and I moved to press myself against the wall and as out of sight as possible. My first instinct was to call for Joel, but I didn’t want to make noise on the small chance that I hadn’t been discovered yet. I was wrong. I stared up at the wide opening of the hole and made eye contact with what looked to be a 10 year old kid. “H-hi.” I said cautiously. “Lucy, get over here.” Another voice called out. It was a man’s. “But daddy, there’s a lady!” She called out. I stood there awkwardly, trying to look as unthreatening as possible. I could only imagine that Joel was looking the opposite. “Yes, honey but there’s a man right here with a gun pointed at us. Stay still.” He said in a soft, informative voice. I heard the safety of the gun being clicked back on and the man breathed, “Thank you.”  My throat tightened when I realized why Joel had put the gun down. It was a little girl.

“I’m John, and this is my daughter, Lucy. I’m unarmed and pose very little threat to you so I appreciate the fact that your gun is pointed at the ground right now.” Joel had no response to the man’s spiel except for a gruff, “Get her out of there.” I rolled my eyes at his lack of manners during this negotiation. “I will, sir, as soon as you drop your weapon and step away from it.” There was a long, silent pause before I heard a muted thump and the sound of Joel’s boots crunching in the snow. The top of his head disappeared from view as he stepped away. I hadn’t realized how much comfort the mere sight of him brought me until it was gone. Once close to frostbite, my palms became slick with sweat. 

After what seemed like the longest minute of my life, a rope ladder dropped down in front of me and I wasted no time scrambling up it. When I reached the last rung, Joel grabbed onto my arm and hoisted me up the rest of the way. “Thank you.” I breathed as I studied my captors. 

 The man was younger than Joel but older than me. No older than 45. He had light brown hair and brown eyes, unlike his daughter who donned blonde curls and crystal blue eyes. She was staring at me with the brightest smile I’d seen in years. “Hi, Lucy.” I said politely. “Hi.” She said excitedly and asked, “What’s your name?” I told her my name, much to Joel’s dismay, but he stood there with a glimmer in his eye as he watched the little girl and I’s exchange. 

“So uh, I assume you guys will be on your way now.” The man said awkwardly. He was desperately trying to seem tough, but his softer side was unmistakable. “Actually,” I blurted before Joel could speak, “We’re looking for someone.” The man’s eyebrows raised. “You are?” He asked. “We have a man! He’s tall and has hair like mine and he’s pretty like you!” The little girl squealed. “Lucy,” her dad reprimanded gently before turning back to Joel and I, “We did have a man stumble onto our property a couple of days ago. He was in real bad shape, had a gash from a cleaver in his chest. Would that be him?” Lucy chimed in again, “He sleeps a lot.” Her dad shot her another look, but gave up on trying to get her to quiet down. 

I almost broke down in tears right then and there. There was no mistaking that it was Matthew. The words weren’t able to leave my mouth so I helplessly looked to Joel who nodded and said, “That might be him.” I swallowed and breathed, “Can we see him?” The man pressed his lips together and thought for a moment before answering.“I guess I can’t say no, can I?” He chuckled awkwardly as his eye shifted between Joel and I.  I stared at him with a blank face that said “No, you cannot.”  He understood my expression. “Well, you two seem like nice people, but before we head back I’m going to need you to hand over all of your weapons. You’ll get ‘em back when you leave. I promise.” My eyes shifted to Joel knowing he’d absolutely hate this idea. 

His eyes flashed with worry, but they softened when they shifted between the girl and I. “Alright.” He sighed as he dropped to the ground to rummage through his bag. I stood there alongside Lucy and watched him pile guns and knives onto the ground. I, too, wondered where he’d gotten all of that from because we most definitely did not leave Jackson that heavyhanded. 

Once the man was in possession of (supposedly) all of Joel and I’s weapons, he began to lead us back to the house. “It’s about a mile through the woods here, and then there’s a small pathway to the house. There are still traps so keep your eyes and ears peeled for my warnings.” The man explained as if he was a tour guide. 

Joel and I had fallen behind the man and his daughter a bit. “You okay? That was a hard fall.” He whispered. “Yeah, surprisingly. Just a little sore.” I croaked. He nodded and looked ahead again. “Joel?” I said, reaching for his hand, “Thank you for doing this.” He wrapped his fingers around my palm and squeezed a bit, “‘Course.” By the way he was looking at me, I swore he was about to lean down and kiss me, but our heads were both jolted ahead by Lucy’s tiny, yet loud voice. “Are you guys married? My mommy and daddy are married and that means they can have babies. They only had one baby and it’s me!.” I almost giggled at her innocence, but the awkwardness of her question turned my cheeks red. I didn’t know what Joel and I were, but we were most certainly not married. “Lucy, that is none of your business. Keep on ahead now, honey.” Her dad said as he shot us an apologetic look. I smiled at him and Joel remained expressionless. The rest of the walk to the house was silent as Lucy became occupied with questioning her dad up ahead. 

My hand was still latched onto Joel’s and it squeezed with anticipation as we started up the stone path to the house. My feet dug further into the ground as we reached the stairs. My anticipation quickly turned to anxiety as I realized I was either getting close to devastation or a miracle. Joel noticed my slowing of pace and squeezed my hand again. “S’okay. I’ve got you.” He whispered. I followed him up the steps and stepped across the threshold of the house. “Honey?” The man called, “We’ve, uh- We’ve got visitors.” A beautiful blonde hair, blue eyed woman shuffled out of the kitchen with a concerned look on her face. Her eyes met Joel’s first and then quickly jotted to mine. She smiled, “Hello.” I smiled and nodded, my throat was too swollen to speak. “They think the man in the back room may be her brother.” John explained. Her face fell and she nodded slightly, “Oh. Okay. He’s sleeping now, but I’m sure you’d still like to see him, right?” She asked me. I nodded again. She held out her hand and I replaced mine from Joel’s to hers. 

The hallway she led me down seemed to feel twice as long due to my anxiousness. She finally stopped infront of a wooden door and knocked lightly. There was no response. Her hand wrapped around the doorknob and cracked it open a bit before gazing in. I tried to peek in over her head but nearly fell when the door opened all of the way. The skinny, gray man laying in the bed slowly moved his head towards the door, his eyes squinting from the light. I could barely see him through my welling eyes, but I knew it was Matthew. I rushed to kneel next to his bed and avoided touching him in case of any injuries. “Matthew.” I breathed. His eyebrows twisted in confusion, “Sis?” He choked. I nodded. “Holy shit,” He reached over and wrapped his arms around me the best that he could, “You found me.” I laid my head onto his chest and breathed deeply for a moment. “I thought you were…” I couldn’t say it, but he cut me off anyway, “I almost was, if it hadn’t been for these folks.” I turned to the woman who was standing in the doorway. “Thank you for saving him.” I sobbed. She nodded and smiled before disappearing back into the hallway.  “How the hell did you find me?” He asked in awe. “Well, they sent a group of us out after you’d been missing for a while. There were two raider attacks and then long story short, I met David.” I explained. His face dropped and his eyes darkened at the mention of the evil man. “He didn’t-” He began to ask, but I shook my head, “No, he’s taken care of now.” He nodded and his chest fell as he let out a breath, “You did that all by yourself, sis? Badass.” He said before coughing a little. He was still incredibly weak. “Not necessarily…” I said quietly, “There was a group of us too. I mean, yes, I killed David by myself because we all got separated for a bit. It’s just Joel and I now.” I saw his jaw clench ever so slightly. Despite our many conversations, I could still sense Matthew’s disapproval of Joel and I’s… situation. “The same thing happened to us.” He said quietly. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” I breathed, changing the subject quickly. “I’m getting there.” He said before peeling off the blankets to reveal a blood-soaked bandage stretching across his chest. My stomach folded in half as I eyed it, and he quickly covered it again with the blankets. “I’ll be okay, sis. I promise.” He said as he cupped my now ghost white cheek into his cold hand. I nodded. “I’m glad you’re okay too.” He whispered. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Masterlist

Taglist:

@demonsasss @ashleyfilm @ayamenimthiriel @scarlet-daisy @jellybeanxc @briyannaholt @hujickova @morgaussy @vivian-pascal

[joelsbeard]

haha it’s me again, ur writing is srsly addicting you’re never getting rid of me😝

could u mby write some hcs for joel and reader when they’re parents? let’s say they had sarah and she’s in the energetic kiddie stage so they literally never get to fuck anymore because they have to worry about her all the time, so when they do get some alone time they js go crazy with it?

little specific and i’m sorry about that😭😭 js wanted to see what ur thots on this areeee<333

LMAO the pre-outbreak!joel horny gets to all of us!!! I'm also planning on writing some fluffier stuff too with joel, reader, sarah, and ellie as well :)

Joel would be so understanding with not pushing you to do anything you don't want to, especially after giving birth. He tells you he'll wait as long as he needs to until you're ready ❤️ You also can't keep your hands off your man tho lol so you end up waiting ~ 2 months to have sex (doesn't mean you weren't fooling around before tho hehe)

He loved your body before you were pregnant, while you were pregnant, and after giving birth!! He thinks the extra meat on you (lol) and cute little lightning marks are adorable bc it just means you went through all of carrying and growing his baby and giving birth ❤️🥺

And he's always like "you're so beautiful thank you for growing our babies and protecting them for 9 months 🥺"

Obviously once you have sarah you guys are sleep deprived as hell during the little free time you get, but you also enjoy just spending time together as a family of 3 or just having the time to cuddle when she's asleep or if tommy is helping watch her.

Your first time together after giving birth is probably a little nerve wracking but it ends up all just being in your head since you and joel make sure to go slow, and if anything is sore he always stops to check in with you first 🥺

Once you adjust and it starts feeling good you're like "godd, did you get thicker since last time? You feel so fucking big babe🥺😭" and joel almost cums right there hearing you say how big he is 🥵 meanwhile he just laughs and is like "you're too sweet baby. But god you feel so damn tight, I can feel you squeezing my cock, you feel so damn good baby" and bc its been 2 months he's trying his best not to cum in like 5 seconds lol

Joel Miller is a tits man. I mean tbh he loves your tits and your ass, even your tummy and lil toes lol but if he was held at gunpoint and needed to pick one I would think he's a tits man.

He probably went nuts when you were pregnant watching your tits get huge lol, even when sarah's nursing he'll look over and be like "those were mine first little miss, fyi 😠" LOL or he'll always find excuses to stop what he was doing just so he can watch you and look at your tiddies like 😍 😭 men 🙄

Sarah and ellie probably both prefer eating directly from the boob vs bottles lol and whenever it's joels turn to take care of them he tries to give you alone time so you can rest, so when ellie or sarah are hungry and he has to feed them with the bottle and they wrinkle their noses and push his hand away he's like "i know, i'd prefer the real thing too huh babygirl, but you gotta work with me here so mama can get some rest" LMAO

I'm not gonna lie, once you and joel are fully sexually active again after 2 months, since it can be so hard for you to find time together and you also don't wanna leave sarah with someone else yet, when she's dead to the world you probably get a little handsy with each other 😭 you're like, she's only 3 months and she's asleep, she's not gonna be aware of what we're doing 😭. You guys are just too desperate for each other to let that opportunity slide lol. Or sometimes she'll be in her bassinet, her crib, or in her play pen and you and joel will take the baby monitor and go to some part of the house so he can finally rail you 😭

When she's around 3 or 4 and is more independent, you'll have tommy babysit her for a couple of hours at his house or something so you guys can finally get some alone time (thank god for uncle tommy lol) and he knows you two ask him to babysit to give yourselves a little break from running around after her, but also bc he knows yall need some of that alone time lol.

It was hard the first couple of times you had someone else watch sarah (even if its tommy) bc you and joel are such helicopter parents and you're always worried about your lil babygirl lol, but you guys also missed having that time between just the two of you

Joel probably gets a little more handsy with you at home than usual bc with taking care of sarah it's not like you can fuck when you want to, so he just has to settle for giving you more ass grabs and grinding his bulge against your ass like a perv when he hugs you from behind LMAOO

It's not always him that initiates it though, you'll rub your foot up and down his leg sometimes or wiggle your ass on his crotch lol and he'll be like "you think it's funny to tease me like that knowing i can't do anything huh baby? just wait til i get you back for that" but he can never tease you too bad bc he wants you too much and he feels bad sometimes when he makes you beg too much lol

When your milk ducts are clogged you know damn well who's helping you out with them lol. I mean, what can he do it's not like he wants to see his girl in pain 🥺 it's just a bonus that he enjoys helping lol. He's like I ain't no bitch if my girl's in pain imma help her even if it means i have to drink her damn breastmilk lol (not that he even minds it in the first place tho 😭 he basically gets an excuse to suck on your tiddies)

Or sometimes they get so full and sore and you're just like :( "babe my boobs are so sore :(" and joel of course is like 😈 "oh no my poor baby, you want me to hold them for you?" you always say yes lol, and maybe end up fucking oop

It probably turns him on knowing that not only did you carry and grow his baby for 9 months but that even after birth you continue to nurture her from your own body bc women are just amazing like that lol

When Sarah was around 4-5 you guys were full on fucking in the morning and you made the mistake of not locking your door (you were still getting used to having a child living in your house lol) and she ran in bc she wanted to bug you two to ask for breakfast. thank god she doesn't remember it much afterwards (but you and joel do 😳) and you just told her you were having a really big hug before you sent her to her room saying you'd be there in a minute. Poor joel basically went totally soft after that 😭

Other times you'd just make sure she was really focused on playing with her little dolls or watching a movie and you and joel would go to your room to fuck 😭

[lemonhemlock]

Is it just me or is everyone's obsession with being "disappointed" in Alicent greatly exaggerated? It is true that most of these concerns were raised when the trailers were released, but it seems to me that episode 1 turned out to be pretty.... normal? God knows the writers flip-flopped on her reactions and objectives in the second part of season 1, but so far I think she had a pretty understandable characterisation?

She is angry with Aemond for killing Lucerys, but I feel like that's a pretty basic reaction? What was she supposed to do, congratulate him? He went to Storm's End on a diplomatic mission, after all. She does tell Otto that she understands Aemond's ire with Lucerys and even kind of excuses and minimizes what he did, because he never got justice for his eye. But it's a normal scolding mother reaction to not encourage these kinds of behaviours in one's children? Also, it's been, what, a week? She's allowed to be upset that Aemond goes on one (1) big boy errand and immediately loses his temper.

I also wouldn't be taking Aemond branding her "a fool" at face-value lol. This is the boy who will soon be executing children at Harrenhal and lighting the Riverlands on fire. Sometimes "holding love for your enemy" is not such a bad thing, Aemond!

She does light a candle for Lucerys in the sept, but this is, again, not that big of a deal? She is allowed to extend sympathy for the senseless loss of life and regret that it has come to this, without ~betraying her family, lol.

She accepts in front of Otto that there will be violence, but insists that it need not be senseless. I'm having a hard time understanding why this is such a controversial take. There are so many pieces of meta that people reblog constantly about how the Dance of the Dragons consists of wanton and unnecessary violence, but god forbid the same sentiment comes out of Alicent's mouth. 😂 Then she is branded a Rhaenyra-lover at the expense of her children. I'm not denying that the writers have a problem with separating her actions from gravitating around Rhaenyra, but wanting to prevent as many deaths as possible is not some woke take in the service of better-written female characters.

Similarly, of course she is still writing letters to Rhaenyra! You must never abandon diplomatic efforts if there is the slightest chance it will reduce bloodshed! Sure, you can argue that the narrative is also simultaneously assigning her the motive of (still) being love-sick about Rhaenyra, which can get grating, but I feel like fans fail to realise that killing off members of the black faction that they find annoying is always going to come at the cost of the smallfolk and other innocent people who have nothing to do with this quarrel. Sometimes you have to eat your tongue and make concessions in order to avoid military escalation.

[coquelicoq]

i like the natsume dub, but i'm glad i watched it with subs first. for one thing, the japanese voice acting simply cannot be beat. for another, the dub translates nicknames into english - for instance, the little tatsumi that hatches from an egg, turning natsume into a teen dad, is called "eggy" in the dub instead of "tama" (which unless i'm mistaken is a shortened form of the japanese word for "egg") - which isn't a bad thing, but it does end up creating the possibility of a little misunderstanding once you get to taki's first episode. because if you couldn't hear the japanese, and you were accustomed to characters getting jokey english nicknames like eggy, and you heard that a character who hadn't talked for almost a year was named something that sounded phonetically like "talkie", would you assume that she had a completely different name in japanese that was a pun on the japanese word for "talk"? because that's probably what i would have assumed lol. but luckily i watched it in japanese with subs first, so. crisis averted!

[cave-monkey]

It dawns on me that the journey to the west took 5,040 days exactly, right, and while the book goes from tribulation to tribulation, there were still only 81 of those. And they were missing one when they got there. And some of the tribulations Tripitaka went through happened before the journey even started.

So, even being generous and saying that most of the tribulations that occurred during the actual journey could be said to have taken a few days to handle each, that's still only about 10% of the journey. A tribulation was anything that happened that put Tripitaka in danger or presented any sort of obstacle to him. Anything even remotely exciting would have fallen into that ~10%, and nothing else could have happened, because otherwise they wouldn't have gotten west one moderate inconvenience and/or major trauma short of the prize. (I mean, unless the thing that happened managed to not involve Tripitaka at all in any way, but that's very hard to do when you are all attached at the hip.)

Holy cow they really were just walking. ALL THAT TIME. No wonder Zhu Bajie was stirring the pot at any given opportunity. It was literally the only thing to do.

[trashbaget]

tell me your failed/embarrassing flirting stories to make me feel better, i’ll go first: today i said “get out of my way” forgot to say “i’m kidding” then immediately said “bye”

[orcelito]

Cassy was being so sweet. SO sweet. Barely even going for my tortellini bowl! Just sitting on my lap and purring and being a blob of putty

Then I got up to throw my (disposable) tortellini bowl away. He got up too. I sat back down. Then shortly after, heard a loud bang from the trashcan falling over >:(

[screampied]

‘ IT'S A MATCH: LAST FRIDAY NIGHT ! ,

profile. girl, matching with your best friend on tinder is pretty awkward. hooking up with him, even more awkward. wanna know what’s even worse though? saying that word—i love you.

wc 4.9k

warnings. fem! reader, modern au, humor, size kink, mutual pining, loser boy gojo, unprotected, cheesy pick up lines, praise, touch starved satoru, cunnìlingus, overstim, créampie, i felt silly ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

an. old old draft ;') based on the song last friday night. damn!

“mannn i’m so cooked,” gojo murmurs to himself, pacing back and forth. he’s dragging his feet against the silkened strands of the carpet before a soft pout spreads across his lips. “she left me on delivered for seven minutes…… seven.”

to be fair, in actuality you did. only because you were occupied with doing your hair. gojo being gojo was freaking out, thinking you were probably uninterested. albeit, once you finally did reply, his heart nearly fell out of his chest.

‘how does 7 pm sound?’

‘soid@:$:@) good’

‘um what?’

gojo mentally smacks his forehead, stupidly mashing on his keyboard, barely even letting a second go by once you responded. he was way too eager, he intakes a sharp breath before smiling — replying with a cheesy thumbs up.

he had the dumbest grin plastered on his face. after his best friend, you, advising him to give dating apps a try, he actually does. gojo matched with a lot of women not even minutes after installing the app onto his phone. how coincidental that the main person who caught his attention was you, the both of you matched and he made sure to text you first.

who knew though. that you’d be matching with the one and only satoru gojo. definitely not you, and of course, not him.

despite what everyone said, gojo was a bit of a womanizer, sure. but he was also a huge hopeless romantic.

he started fooling around on dating sites . . not looking for love necessarily but mainly to pass time. you mentioned it to him and he decided to give it a try.

pretty soon, time flew by quick. with a quick snap, it was just about to hit six o’clock pm.

gojo threw on grey sweats and ruffled up his hair a bit. he couldn’t lie to himself, first date and he felt a bit nervous. who was he kidding though, you told him to come to your apartment.

probably wouldn’t end up being a date, but still.

he read through your bio about three times, and your personality stood out to him.

you and him surprisingly had the same interests in lots of things, you loved sweets, and loathed scary movies. “…she’s so perfect,” he’d utter to himself, just imagining the sound of your sweet voice.

gojo abruptly snaps out of his thoughts—he didn’t want be too late, so with a quickness, he starts to make his way to your house.

with hands buried in his pockets, he gives a few hard knocks on the front of your door. about approximately nine seconds later, you open the door and his maw instantly drops. “y-you?”

“hey, y—satoru?” you mimicked the same reactions

the silence was practically deadly.

the two of you stared at each other for what seemed like centuries before you furrow your eyebrows. “satoru,” you mumble, bringing a hand towards your face to rub your forehead. “…you matched with me on purpose, didn’t you?”

“wha— noooo!” he protests, a cute pout tugging against the corners of his lips. he obviously did. you eyed him from head to toe. whilst his hands were buried into his pockets, you could tell that you made him a bit nervous. a light tint of color started to flush against his cheeks before he pulls on his sweater. “heh, is it gettin' hot in here or is it just me.”

“oh my god,” you suddenly spoke. “no wonder you didn’t have a profile picture,” and then you give him an abrupt glare. “satoru. why’d you even use the kfc logo as a profile picture anyway? idiot.”

“oh— it’s a long story.”

you deadpan, mentally face palming yourself.

gojo takes a good look at you, and he’s got a sudden sheepish grin. “woah,” he utters, and his eyes linger for a long time. he’s never seen you dress in such a formal pretty way. he felt a sudden heat rush to both sides of his face before without thinking, he murmurs. “you look kinda hot.”

“kinda? now i’m offended.” you scoff, tugging on your fishnets.

“all you’re getting from me,” he fake pouts. he then comes closer, closer . . all until he’s just inches apart.

one look at your dress and he just wanted to rip it off. you and him were so attached to the hip, he’s never expected to see you in this kind of light. if you were being honest, his gaze that ran against your entire figure made you a bit nervous.

throughout your long term friendship with gojo, he was known to be flirty every now and then. you figured that was just his personality but perhaps he started to view you different. “so,” he shrugs, bending down to your level as a way of mockery, “is this the part where we hook up?”

“well technically, yeah—” and you look right into his eyes.

he was just undressing you with eyes practically, cerulean bright irises roaming down your body before he hums. “…..oh,” and he awkwardly scratches his head. “so do i make the first move or—”

“you’re such an idiot. just kiss me, ‘toru.”

he snickers, and after what seemed like forever, gojo leans in for a kiss.

he was so pretty, he didn’t even have to try. long fluttering lashes that matched his snowy white strands flap closed. gojo tasted sweet, the moment his lips went against yours, you sink into his embrace. he was surprisingly a good kisser, not that you ever kissed your best friend or anything—but for some reason, it felt so warm.

so natural…

your heart, it starts to pick up a bit and your arms wrap around his broad shoulders.

gojo let off a soft grunt, your sweet aromatic perfume wafts right into his flared up nostrils. you shiver a bit, feeling his hands slowly drag up your body. minty, a good way to describe the brief taste that loiters on his breath. he was always chewing peppermint—an unserious guy with a sweet tooth, although this time maybe his sweet tooth was for you instead of casual sweets.

the kiss was passionate, you almost forgot you were literally making out with your best friend.

you did dream a bit about this moment, him holding you all close with his lips mashed against yours. his hand continue to wander, such big hands compared to yours. you slide your tongue against his before parting your lips just a bit further.

“….mhm,” he’d huff out in a muffled groan, and he made sure to focus his hands near your hips. his fingers brush against the thin fabric of your dress before he gives it a hasty yank.

steamy breaths collide against each other whilst each second passes—eventually, gojo’s leading you toward your bedroom.

no bother in asking you where everything was since he technically knew the layout of your house like the back of his hand. “wanted to do this for so long,” he finally speaks in shortened breaths—he’s panting, and you let off a soft gasp once he lifts you up. instinctively, your legs wrap around his waist and he slyly smiles. “you should really clean this place,” he murmurs, walking casually with you in his arms. “oh right, you can’t because you’re always at my house.”

“the point of hooking up is to not talk, satoru.”

“well excuse me,” he dramatically rolls his eyes.

at first you were a bit shy coming to the bitter realization that you ended up matching with gojo by pure luck. by now, things weren’t even that awkward—or at least awkward yet…

you didn’t wanna jinx it though, he leads you towards your bed before you plop down on your hands. you sit down, staring up at him and he starts to pull up his grey sweatshirt. you watch intensely, his abs peeking as he yanked it off before you spot a glance of his dark blue boxers hiding above his sweatpants.

so attractive . . .

you’ve seen gojo shirtless countless times but never completely nude. just imagining him, his glistening body presenting itself right in front of you… phew.

you intake a breath, mentally preparing yourself.

“awh,” he sneers, and you’re so secluded into your erotic thoughts that you don’t even realize he’s practically half naked now. all that was left was his wan-colored sweatpants. he was a tease, your eyes fixate towards his ripped chest—his abs, they were sublimely sculpted and chiseled.

sharp.

you felt like if you ran a finger down his perfectly structured v-line, you’d get a paper cut. his six pack flexed and you had to squeeze your legs shut. it was no surprise gojo had a daily work out routine. he’d even try to drag you to come with him sometimes. majority of the time, that’d go to no avail though. “enjoying the show, yeahhh?”

“shut up.” you grouse with a swift eye roll.

a smug grin curls up against his pink lips before he grabs your hand. “wanna feel me?” and you’re confused by what he wants you to feel until he makes you slowly slide your hand down his clenched pecs. you peer up at him, his body feels so warm— it was brick hard, exactly how you thought. your fingers continued to run down his ripped modeled chest before feeling against a scar. “cute fingers,” he teases, making it trail lower and lower until you spot his happy trail that was just about poking above from the very hem of his boxers. “you should pull them off of me.”

“fine,” you mutter with a puffy blow, bringing both hands towards his lower half. gojo stares, watching you pull down his sweatpants— then his briefs. you made sure to take your time, tugging on the stretchy aqua-blue fabric before within seconds, his length springs out. “you weren’t lying.”

“hm?” he says, watching your eyes continue to wander — he was definitely big, your memory suddenly refreshes of the pictures you exchanged with him, and the carpets very much did match the drapes. his shaft was . . turgid, at least the tip was. it was a pretty flashing pink, smeared with a few droplets of his own pre-cum. gojo was well trimmed, but had a few left over white specks scattered all across his base. he even had a cute mole down near the very edge of his length. specks of white hairs near his happy trail decorated his body, it was attractive. he had a left curve too, it was quite noticeable—a strikingly long vein that pulses at the sight of you, running down the very middle part of his dick and you merely moan.

as you move yourself closer, he’s stood standing while you’re sat on the bed and your glossy lips give his swollen tip a few chaste kisses.

“damnnnn,” he pants, feeling his cock twitch from the way your lips made instant contact with his tip.

the more you stared at his length from your peripherals—the more you observed its color. it had a rich rosy tan. slightly—still the same pinkish color with a brief tapered ridge. he was hefty, there was no question. inch after inch, he stood tall right in front of you. gojo claws a hand into your hair softly before sucking in his breath. “baby wait, i wanna do everything. ‘m already hard.”

you hum, amused—giving his frenulum a subtle lick before backing away, jibing out a, “oh really?” and then once he makes you lie back against the bed, you sit up with a sly grin. “do you even know how to eat pussy? and i’m not just talking about from your 'experience' from reddit or twit—”

“girl shut up,” his tone pitches an octave and it’s quite funny.

always sassy—you watch as gojo strum his fingers against your dress, taking his precious time to lift it up before feeling against your thighs. so soft, he’s always wanted to feel you—especially right here, take in every part of your curves, your gorgeous physique. his lips form into a cute scowl as he pulls you closer towards him. “i know what i’m doing.”

“yeah you do.” you sing along, and he shoots you a pout. you loved the banter between the two of you, toying along with him—he always made it so easy. it doesn’t take long before he starts peeling off your fishnets with his teeth, it was so dirty. you felt yourself throb a bit, edges of his teeth softly pricking against your skin as he yanks the thin nylon material made fishnets that stuck against your thighs.

your back lies flat against the bed and you intake a single breath. gojo rubs a hand against your tummy, you quaver a bit simply from his touch. he’s keeping eye contact the entire time too, irises never looking away for a split second—he mimics the same motion, peeling your panties off with his pearly canines.

it’s lewd, he doesn’t even pull them off all the way. instead, he just leaves it on you but has it rolled down to your thighs. “lotta back talk for a girl this soaked, to be honest.”

“ . . . . ”

you don’t reply, and he chuckles to himself. he finds your lack of an answer quite cute.

gojo stares between your parted thighs and your lips were all stretched—glistening with a sheet coat of your sweet arousal.

“so pretty,” he coos in a low voice, and you watch as he leans in—pressing a soft kiss against your entrance. immediately, his lips gets all shimmery from your own wetness and it’s hot. gojo purposely runs his tongue against his lips because he knows you’re staring directly at him. “my best friend tastes soooo sweet.”

“quit talking, ‘toru.” you moan and you don’t realize how your voice is becoming more and more shaky by the second.

“fine. fiiiiine, can’t have shit,” he grumbles playfully.

you stare as he prods two lengthy fingers against your slit. with a gulp, you prepare yourself. he gradually starts to insert two fingers inside, curling them up whilst it adapts to your warm walls and his arm shakes. “oooooh,” he whispers in a mere raspy voice. sweetened squelchy squelches came from your cunt and it was so loud it rang throughout your ears like church bells on a wedding day. “she’s quite— the talker, huhh.” he continues, and that’s right when he places his lips against your folds.

you swallow, feeling your back immensely arch from his hot lips.

gojo’s tongue swipes against your pussy. the middle part of his tongue skims down and it feels so good, he’s slow at first. he knows the exact direction to go and your toes curl. a free hand of his slides near your pubic mound, applying just the right amount of pressure—he does this so you can quickly feel your sweet g-spot. you do, and a gasp leaves your lips, it’s mindblowing.

already, he made you feel your forbidden g-spot.

you didn’t even know gojo—your dumb best friend had this kind of experience. as his palm presses down against the particular spot, his other hand is still occupied. lengthy fingers curl all throughout your walls, reaching every spot by prodding with just the right amount of deepness.

“f-fuckkk,” you whine, and suddenly your nerves make you shift your attention back towards his slick tongue. as his tongue was lolled out, a pretty clean pinkish tongue. he slithers it by using the back of his tongue, merely copying a sort of vacuuming type technique. the sounds that ran out his mouth was so filthy, your thighs start to twitch profusely and your hands found its way into his hair.

“s—satoruuu.” you’d babble and its only been a few minutes. a few long minutes, your squirming was cute to him. you tried focusing on your breathing patterns but that was no use. your mind went blank, empty like a canvas.

“mhm,” he groans, feeling himself get hard simply from your pitchy moans that reverberate and bounce across the thin walls. his fingers still went in and out of your cunt at a decent thrusting pace. the way you easily swallowed his two digits was just perfect, it didn’t take long at all for him to find your clit. “there she isssss,” he hisses cheekily, changing up his tongue strokes just a bit. it felt so good, heavenly. the way he drags it against your pussy. your jaw hung open with only sweetened sobs and whimpers leaving right past your spit-glossed lips.

whilst he’s rummaging through your vulva, he occasionally breaks away to spit right onto your cunt. it was no surprised gojo satoru was a messy man. he couldn’t help it, he’s fantasized about this exact scenario maybe once or twice. as his saliva trickles between your slit, he grunts as he watches. just all sopping wet just for him. he blows against your entrance just to make you squirm even more.

with his fingers still buried into your cunt, he does the ‘come here’ motion—a simplistically erotic motion where he uses not one but both index and his middle finger to flick back and forth inside of you. right there, oh you could have came.

“o-oh my goddd,” you whimper, his warm breath colliding against your arousal. “i-i’m close, satoru. think ‘m getting close.”

“aw,” he purrs in a sweet tone, using the flat of his tongue to lap up against your clit even further. you’re so soaked—his chin starts to drip with your slick and it’s so attractive. he pulls himself back to grin at you, a dumb pussy-drunken smile and nothing but your slick arousal running down his chin, so sheeny. “suck a little harder, she says?”

you nod, although you were sure your inevitable orgasm was quickly approaching.

your favorite part was when he sucks deeply against your clit, practically tongue fucking you. he had quite a long tongue so it did wonders, it made sure to reach every particular crevice imaginable. “nah don’t run from me now, gorgeous,” he utters sweetly once you squirm a bit more—he grabs on your hips, removing his two fingers just to hold you steadily in place. “give it to me, baby. show me how much of a messy girl my best friend can really be, huh.”

his dirty talk was just the icing on the cake. gojo’s just coaxing you towards your incoming release, all the while—it felt so good. the way your legs quavered, a trembling mess.

gojo’s holding your jerking hips against his mouth so he doesn’t miss a single taste. your mouth forms into a surprised 'o' and it’s like he’s been waiting his entire life for this moment—to be fair, he could have just asked a long time ago.

he was shy though, he didn’t wanna ruin the friendship—yet now that he’s propped up between your legs, eating you out like a starved man, you don’t know how you could continue to be just friends. not in a negative way, but after this—every time you’d stare at gojo, you’d just see his face that was right between your legs that one friday night ago.

once your orgasm comes, you whimper out— a ripple surging out of you and you’re so squirmy.

it was so intense, you fell into a trance, feeling that familiar spark combust and you’re slump back. your maw still hangs open and you’re so cute—only inaudible whimpers, cacophonies of his name, the repetitive whiney, “s—satoru, ‘toru.”

his nose brushes against your entrance before he pulls away—he grows quiet for a brief moment before sitting up, you’re out of breath before he leans in for a kiss. you moan right into his mouth, running a finger down his cute undercut and that makes him whine into your mouth. his undercut, he’s always liked the feeling of you running a finger down there—it hypnotized him in a way, the entire scene was so salacious. tasting yourself on his damp tongue, your legs wrapped around his waist and his dick brushes against your parted legs.

“you’re not that bad of a kisser, you know.” gojo mutters as he finally breaks away—a stringy shiny trail of spit departs and he sits up. “why can’t we do this more often?”

“you never ask,” you breathe, still getting over your recent release—he talks so much, you almost forgot how much of a blabbermouth he was. literally seconds ago his face was buried between your thighs and now he’s rambling to you about a sale he spotted on one of his favorite candies. “. . yeah yeah, lie back now.”

he lies back against the bed and watches as you make your way towards him. he lands backwards with an ‘oof’ before raising his eyebrows in amusement. “oh? you’re gonna be on top? what if i wanted to have you bent over—”

“i’d rather die than let you see me arched over.”

“heh, woah now angel—that’s just mean. after i gave you that teeth shattering orgasm,” he says with a dramatic eye roll. you align yourself with gojo, your arms wrapping around his shoulders and for a concise moment he grows quiet. “hm. don’t really care though, you’re still hot. straddling me like this and—”

you lean forward, silencing him with a kiss because he just wouldn’t stop talking—it was cute in a way though, gojo would literally talk your ear off. he kisses back immediately, feeling you hover against his leaky tip before lowering yourself further and further down. “mhm,” you’d gasp at the current stretch. it was hard to ignore, he was big—no secret about that. due to how sopping you were, it made it easy to just sink right down. gojo’s jaw tightens as he brings a hand towards your waist, another near your ass. with a tight squeeze, he continues to fall into sinful bliss at your cunt holding him hostage. your walls hugged him tightly the more you sank down. his breath was heavy, he heaved and heaved before you’re finally all the way down.

parting away once more, he utters out a needy, “touch me.”

“ask nicely,” you whisper, starting to rock your hips swiftly in place—you were so hot, especially in his eyes. you’re so warm inside, feverish, tingly. gojo swallows thickly, a breath getting caught in his throat as his white lashes flicker towards your waist. you brush a thumb against your best friend’s lips before humming. “touch me pretty please, say that.”

“how about i tell you a joke—” he cuts off, yet moans once he feels you grind your hips in a specific rotation—so good. he’s at a loss of words before his eyebrows curl up and furrow, head throwing back in pleasure. “heh. uh, check, please! know what’s on the m-menu? me ‘n you.”

“…………………..”

“…..you’re right, i should just shut up,” he puffs out, his cheeks burning with such heat. he holds onto your hips before he swallows his pride, speaking in a cute pout whilst avoiding eye contact. “touch me pretty please.”

you smile, trading a finger down his chiseled chest—so muscular, he was perfectly sculpted.

his loved your touch, it makes him ten times harder. your fingers roam against his body and he merely folds into putty, his abs—they clench as you’re being stuffed by full of his thick inches. gojo made sure to go slow, he didn’t wanna hurt you—especially considering how big and how much of a damn packer he was. so big you almost drooled.

he was mesmerized by the way you moved, with a single pivot of your hips it didn’t take long for him to locate that spot. you moaned, feeling a surge of haziness overtake you before you lean in to kiss near the crook his neck.

“man,” he croaks, and each time he speaks—his voice gets more raspy and out of breath. “uh, keep ridin’ me like that ‘n i’m gonna die. your pussy’s fuckin’ dangerous—shit.”

again, he rambles while you’re riding him in the same constant rotation. he falls in love with the jerks, the way you grind and delve your hips even further into him.

it’s amusing to study his facial expressions though, the way his blue irises would roll back into the very depths of his cranium—his pink sheeny lips parting, even his irregular breathing patterns. he was so whiney, your cunt swallowed him whole and he starts to feel fuzzy. hot, you felt so hot inside. it merely gives him whiplash once he feels your hands trail up toward his chest. his chest, more so his pecs—abs, his nipples.

“s-sensitive there…” he pants, and with his same grip against your hips he drags you closer—back and forth, it was so slow. you’re grinding against his body and he thinks he’s feeling a certain type away. you know, that word. this entire view, seeing you top him like this—gojo was about to lose his mind, a fiery sensation pools low into his abdomen. you had him all hot and bothered, it didn’t take long before his thigh starts to bounce.

“are you?” you tease, leaning in to run your tongue against his perky nipples—oh, his reaction. it was priceless, he grips onto your hair this time, moving a few strands away from your face while you’re still riding him before he whimpers. with shaky lips, he begs for you to suck harder. you didn’t even know if he was into something like this, perhaps your best friend was a freak.

a freak in bed.

you wondered if he’d be like this if he got matched with some other random girl on tinder. being this whiney for them, but since you two were close maybe you had an exception.

“angelllll,” he drags out his words, and it’s cute. his tongue rolls a bit and beads of sweat start to race down the side of his forehead. “i’m gonna—”

suddenly, he grows quiet once his cock that was buried into your folds abruptly slips out.

he slowly looks up at you with a head tilt, and you’re staring right back up at him—he’s still panting with his hands attached to your hip. “oops,” he sheepishly laughs, trying to ignore how he was so close to shooting right inside of you. it squelched, you break away from his chest before kissing near his neck. he moans, aligning himself back against your entrance. “f-fuck that was kinda hot.”

“i can’t tell who sounds like the girl more,” you start to pant yourself, and you feel yourself coming close right with him—you briefly bite your lip before feeling such nerves sneak its way inside. his girth, it never failed to leave you speechless. with gojo, he was a bit thick but more so lanky—thin, yet he made sure to reach every crevice of your cunt. you felt him deep, the more his hold against your hips tighten—the more he’s pumping you full. you’re constantly leaning forward, cupping his face before sneaking a few kisses near the corners of his lips.

“shut up,” he rasps, and he’s close. you’re about to milk him dry—his breathing picks up and he presses his fingers right into your hips. strands of his hair runs through his face before he whines, head throwing back in pure bliss. “god, you do it so good—so good, ‘m gonna cum,” and then with pretty hooded eyes, he swallows before reaching between your legs. he runs a hand against your sopping wet cunt that was a sheer mess itself before sighing lowly, “where do you want it, angel? tell me if i should—”

“inside,” you whisper, and your voice was so close up to his ear that he could have just came from your voice and your voice alone. shivers ran through his body, your chest presses against his and he’s maneuvering quicker circles against your pussy. “f-fuck, ‘toru. ‘m gonna cum too.”

his ruffled hair was all in his face, it was cute. you’re being stuffed full—he’s so hefty you’re dizzy, approaching that release before seconds pass and you gush out. it comes out slow, a shockwave ripples out and you whimper—softly nibbling your teeth deep into the inside of his neck.

“oh f—fuckkk,” he babbles, and his voice ends up cracking, its adorable. both of his ears burn with radiating heat before he finishes, dumping a sloppy load of velvety ropes into your cunt. you literally did milk him, you bring your hips to a more slow stop—deeply grinding against him still and he slumps back. he pours so much into you he’s speechless himself, a hand hooked around your waist as you continue to swivel. “i just— i need you—shitttt.”

you stare at gojo and he’s all dumb, panting heavily. his chest heaves and tightens, loving the warmth of your plush thighs wrapping around him. “i.. i think i love you,” he abruptly says, and with his tone—it’s like in more of a question, he watches your shocked stare peer into him and he sighs. “i don’t wanna use dinder anymore, i— i just want you.”

“it’s called tinder, satoru,” you kiss near the side of his lip. “and i love you too, dummy.”

“really?” he looks at you, still smothered with a look of fatigue—he could go for more rounds but he needed a minute—plus he may or may not have a cramp in his leg. “soo when’s the wedding then?”

you deadpan and he sheepishly smiles at you, he’s still got a firm grip on your waist.

the feeling of gojo’s remains of cum just seeping down your thighs as you straddled him—still with his twitching shaft inside made you kiss your teeth a little. “i’m sure you’ll get cold feet, you’re scared of literally anything.”

“pft. girl, that’s not even remotely true. do you realize who you’re talking to?”

the arrogant gojo came back — you roll your eyes and he slyly grins, yet all the meanwhile he’s holding you close against your chest. you let him kiss you once more before you both pull away once his phone suddenly beeps.

a loud screeching notification . . you were assuming it was a text. he feels you shift a bit, turning to see what it was but pulls you closer towards him, deepening the kiss. you give up, locking your arms around him once more, preparing to start up your hips again.

oh, he tastes candied, sweet…

you moan straight into his mouth before the phone ends up beeping again and again.

consistently until it starts to get annoying, gojo grunts, departing from your honeyed lips. “who’s texting me, angel? thought i turned tinder notifications off.”

you grab his phone, it brights up from your fingertips hovering against the screen before you squint. “uh, it says . . . suguru geto?”

he repeats. “suguru ge—” and then he timorously runs a hand through his hair with a raised eyebrow. “oh. eh, what’d he say?”

you pause for a long moment before reading the message, by long—seven consecutive seconds to be exact, your lip twitching, slowly realizing as you skim through the text by this ‘suguru geto.’

“. . . he says that he had fun last night.”

“oh!”

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞.

Synopsis: What I think Alastors wife would be like, if he had one of course.

Warnings: mentions of blood, pinning, harassment?, Alastor being himself, not in a specific time period but at some point shifts to hell? Let me know if anyone is interested in a part two!!

Navigation!! // Masterlist!! // Serendipity Writes (event)

Alastors wife probably didnt like him at first, and that’s a guarantee. He likes a challenge, but Alastor also likes being liked by people. It fills his ego, makes him feel good about himself. He likes to watch people stumble and fall but quite literally cracks under the pressure of doing just that when it comes to winning you over. Chances were he was constantly trying to figure you out, for two reasons. One, being that he didn’t understand how you couldn’t like him. I mean come on, look at him! He’s got the charm, the manners, the style and the class, the status. What more could you want? The second reason being, the more you denied him, the more he took it as a challenge, the more he wanted you.

Well, surprise surprise, you dont like people with an image to keep up; and to his dismay, that’s exactly what he does. He projects an image. One he refuses to change, and even after marrying you, still doesn’t drop the image, but starts to become more real and honest with himself.

“People who project an image of themselves to others are just trying to fool themselves into being someone they aren’t.” Was what you told him.

Alastor had also asked you out multiple times before you finally said yes. Everyone knows Alastor is very picky with the people he chooses to surround himself with. Everyone he associates with is either there to serve him, or to provide him with something, even if they’re unaware of it. Which only made you trust him less. What purpose did you serve him? What if one day he found you no longer useful and tossed you to the side? Well what were you to do then?

Denying him proved to be a challenge in itself, seeing that he’s quite literally everywhere all at once.

He’d try cheap tricks first. Buying you gifts, constantly showing up at your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers or a stuffed animal. One time he even got you a whole gift basket of your favorite treats. How sweet~ if it was actually about you and not him just trying to patch up his ego. Well at least that was what you thought on the matter.

If that didnt work he’d resort to going ghost. After all, people only miss you when you’re gone right? Well not in this case. He had left you alone physically, at least to your knowledge, but he had still kept a close watch on you. Why, he just knew it would bother you that he suddenly stopped! Until he overheard you speaking with a friend about how happy you were to finally get some peace and quiet. Well that simply wouldn’t do. After all, you should always make an impact, and what kind of impact would he be leaving on you if you went back to your old boring life? No no that just wont do dear.

He’ll start showing back up at your doorstep, taking you on surprise outing to force you to spend time with him. He’ll take you on a walk around a nearby park, a restaurant one day, the picture show the next. He has a long list of places to take you, so you’ll never go to the same place twice! Get your dancing shoes because he’s gonna take you out to the town for the night, after all the city never sleeps! This is when he becomes less forceful, but more of a decent calm. He begins to listen more when you speak, and you actually begin to care about what he’s saying, what a shock!

It’s almost like a switch flips after your outings. He’ll take you to an orchestra show, snickering to himself when he sees your eyes begin to water as the show closes out. He’ll force you to hold onto his arm as he walks you across the street on a rainy night, making sure you don’t slip or trip on the wet pavement. If you ever do, he’ll try his best to catch you and if he doesn’t? Oh what a nightmare, it seems he’s fallen too! For you that is~

You two begin to feel closer, not only physically but emotionally. He gets you to open up about your personal struggles, and in turn, he’ll share some of his own, but not too much. He doesn’t allow himself to be fully and completely vulnerable with you, not yet. But he does try his best to sympathize with you when you share your piece of mind with him. He feels accomplished to know this part of you, and his ego is the last thing on his mind anymore, but instead you take up all the space.

He doesn’t use pet names for you, not cute ones anyway. He’ll call you his devilish belladonna, especially if you love flowers. His creepy spider Lillie. He’ll often speak in the ‘language of flowers’, and will educate you on it if you don’t know so you know exactly what he’s talking about.

He’s the type of person to correct people in public to make them feel stupid, but he never does that with you. Instead he’ll wait until it’s just the two of you and tell you jokingly how wrong you were. You’ll get upset because he let you look like a fool, but in his mind he’s just protecting your feelings. If anyone else corrects you, they’ll have their mouth sewn shut that’s for sure!

He never gets you the same bouquet of flowers. They’re always different, and every week or so you have a new one. He keeps a separate batch for himself so he knows when to get you another. That being said he also makes the bouquets himself, he does not buy them for you already made.

When you finally take Alastor up on his offer to court you properly, he is over the moon about it! Finally, you seem to be coming to your senses dear! Though you quickly follow that comment up with a “Let the blood rush to your head first.” He just bats his lashes at you with a smile. You always know how to make him feel so loved!

Gets very jealous very easily. If he sees you laughing with someone that isn’t him, he’ll size them up before deciding if they’re a threat or not. Heaven forbid anyone actually put their hands on you and uh oh! Limb of the floor someone come get it!

His possessive nature is rooted in abandonment, and thus being said, he has deep attachment issues to you. You are never out of his sight when you two begin dating, and you’re hardly ever far from him in general. You two dress similarly too, especially if you’re from the same era. He’ll switch up your wardrobe slowly so it complements his.

He isn’t one for strong PDA unless he feels like he needs too or just has a strong want too. Usually it’s an arm around your waist, or you hanging onto his arm loosely. The most he’ll ever really do is a kiss on the back of your hand or to your temple. That being said, he’s like this for various reasons.

One, he has a lot of enemies, which means that not not only does that put you in danger, but if you’re also a powerful overlord, it puts him at risk too, though he doesn’t care much about that part.

Second, he doesn’t like physical contact much, and though he always makes an exception for you, he has his image and pristine reputation to keep up. Which you extremely dislike but tolerate because it’s Alastor and if he hasn’t changed much in centuries, nothings going to change ever.

Alastor is very very fond of you, whether you believe it or not. Your fiery attitude has him whipped more than he likes to admit. He’ll joke with other sinners that he’d sacrifice you to save himself but you both know that isn’t true, his nervous ticks prove it to be false, if you do say so yourself.

He’s very fidgety. He’ll tug a piece of your clothing or twirl a strand of your hair between his claws. If you claim he’s messing up your hair he’ll cast a tornado of shadows around you to fuck it up even more, and then smiling at you lovingly when you threaten to cut his ears off because you can’t tell if they’re his hair or just furry ass ears. You always give him a good laugh.

Other sinners are actually convinced you both hate each other, but turf wars on the news show that you two are the most in love when you’re wreaking havoc on innocent sinners for no possible reason other than the fact you two had an argument and the best way to settle it? Dancing in the rain, which actually isn’t rain, just blood falling from the sky because you like to kill people for fun.

“My darling looks the best in red if I do say so myself! Especially if she’s dressed by another’s remains, oh the beauty!”

Alastor has and will continue to get in his feelings about you and his mother getting along so well. He loves you both to pieces, so seeing his two favorite people together makes his dead heart swell with joy.

He’ll ask you to accompany him to the tailors, he values your opinion more than others so you often make adjustments to his suit and he’s just like ‘Whatever she says that’s what’s going on the suit.’ You also make him your personal dressing doll, trying different patterns and styles on him for fun. Alastor is a true skinny jeans hater and he will die on that hill, again. He really appreciates the 60’s style, but prefers to stick to his own decade.

He will take you out hunting with him, and the two of you share breakfast together with the fresh meat you’ve caught. He only gets the best quality for you because he refuses to have you two ‘eating like chums’. A restaurant tried to lie to the two of you, saying their meat was high quality and fresh. Alastor killed everyone in it and you two shared remains like a true power couple. Hells finest of course. ;)

He’s very critical of picking out jewelry for you. Hunting for the perfect ring for you took him ages, mainly because he knew exactly what he wanted but no jeweler had what he wanted all in one ring. So instead he forces them to make him a custom one. Torn limbs and bloody parts later, you have the ring that Alastor worked so hard to give you. He proposes to you Extermination day, claiming he’d love to spend another year in hell with you before the angels come to rip you two apart from each other. It was such a sweet day, at least to you it was.

The type of relationship where he plays the piano and you sing. He loves when you sing and will gush about you to anyone in sight even if he doesn’t know them.

Is very needy in private. He’s a stage 10000 clinger, and will stick to you like his life depends on it, but will be damned if anyone catches him. You don’t tell anyone about it, you like the private life.

You two have cook offs all the time. You make the hotel staff judge, and ultimately Niffty is the tie breaker because she’s brutally honest. Once she told Alastor he should stay out of the kitchen because women were better at it for a reason… harsh!

He was fine though, he got her back by ridding the hotel of bugs. He knows she likes chasing them around and for that she sobbed at his feet for ten minutes asking him to bring them back. It didn’t take much actually, Sir Pentious brought them back on his own, much to Charlies dismay.

He loves to read with you. You two often read a book and once you both finish you have a tea session over it. It starts off being about the book and then somehow shifts to just gossiping and talking shit about the other overlords, except for Rosie, we love Rosie in this household.

Speaking of, Rosie is usually where you get your clothes from. She’s a sweetheart when she isn’t picking pieces of muscle from her teeth, that sharp smile is a killer! She loves to talk about Alastor with you, and usually she’s where you go after you two have had an argument. You’re also her personal Barbie doll. She puts you in outfits and she and Alastor judge over them. Nine times out of ten you leave her boutique with a new wardrobe every time.

Now let’s talk about Vox.

Honestly the whole reason Vox knows about you is probably because he was digging through Alastors shit. But when he sees you? Oh lord, this man is HOOKED.

He doesn’t even know how Alastor managed to get you entangled with him. He finds out about you when you and Alastor aren’t dating yet, and he basically jumps at his chance to try to be with you.

Vox will forever consider you the one that got away, you can’t change my mind.

Alastor has proven time and time again that he’s basically better than Vox. He took a seven year back, came on the radio one day and boom all his viewers were back. In Alastors mind there’s no competition, just Vox being obsessed with the fact Alastor said no.

Valentino uses it against Vox all the time, and it will always make Vox buffer.