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cherubispunk · 4 months

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CHERUB (PART III) - Dealer!Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader

summary: the devil has a funny habit of making you want your own suffering.

a note from Lucy: Well, this is it folks. The third and final instalment of the unholy trinity that is cherub. The fic that i had no idea would get this amount of traction. The fic that gave me my username, blog theme, the majority of my mutuals and the freedom to explore more taboo areas of writing that I never felt comfortable with doing before. I just wanted to thank you all for all the kind words you’ve shared with me. Comments, reblogs, messages, they all mean the utter world. But i also want to specifically thank @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin who was such a huge help for motivation when wrting each of these. She's been there since the first day of cherub and always let me obsess over dealer!joel with her. Ange, i love you baby. Out of all my fandom experiences, this has definitely been one of the best. I know this sounds a lot like a goodbye completely, but it's not i swear! I just never really knew where this was going, but I think this is a pretty good way to end the series and I hope you agree too. Part of me isn't ready to let go after such a short run, but I honestly have no idea where to go from here so I think I did it as much justice as I could. Regardless, Cherub and Dealer!Joel will forever have a place in my heart all thanks to you lovely lot! Your love means the world to me and you are all so easy to share this with, you've given me an environment to flourish creatively and I'm eternally grateful for that. I wish you all the love, hugs, kisses, and angel wishes in the world!

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wc: 5548 Warnings: 18+ MDNI! DARK CONTENT! Unedited for now, no outbreak, no use of y/n but joel calls the reader ‘Cherub’, plot? what plot? we all know we're here for the porn anyway, bombastic age gap (reader is in her early 20’s and Joel is in his late 50s), gore imagry, religious imagry, Smut, very dubcon in theory but both want it bad, grafic smut, P in V sex (unprotected — pleaseee don’t do tis irl i beg of you), teasing, sort of edging? (idk what to call it but he doesnt fuck you until you beg for it lol). nipple play, biting biting biting!!!!!, references to domestic violence, use of pet names, manipulative! joel, stupid stupid cherub, stockholm syndrome, oral (f receiving), cum eating, pussy slapping, Joel being foul mouthed, cursing, dirty talk, overstimulation. Again, some of the most animalistic, disgustingly wretched and vile vile vile porn I have written thus far…with so little plot that this earned me my place in hell, i have my own circle now. Big Dick Joel Miller comes as his own warning.

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The danger didn't lie in his hands. It didn't sit in his closed first to be suffocated. Choked out until the life of it was compressed. Until its face was blue, then purple and its eyes were bloodshot and streaked with red. The danger lay in your heart. And it thrived off the beating.

What is ‘it’, you ask? Mania.

The Greeks had it nailed down when they split love seven different ways. To the crucifix through its punctured and bleeding palms. All equal, but different. They understood that one love is different to the other. That love can be either obsession, or lingering in the quiet parts of a person's mind. You cannot hold up a mirror to one and deceive into believing it is another. No matter how sweet the lie seeps into the ear. They don't work that way. You were not Lucifer, you had no forked tongue. And your mania wasn't Eve. There was no apple to devour. Only the strong arm of Joel Miller to cling to like a noose.

Some love passionately. Find it in the scathing friction of flesh upon flesh. The heat two bodies make only in sex. You were no body anymore. Merely a corpse for him to dig up and breathe life into whenever he needed relief. So it was not Eros. Some love playfully. In the back and forth of a conversation that makes the mind and heart float in the clouds among the soul. Entwine them together until you are too sedated to know the difference between the three pillars of personal holy trinity. There was nothing lighthearted about Joel Miller. So there was no Ludus. Affection. The subtle, it-is-there-even-when-it-is-not weight of lovers hand in lovers hand. Joel clutched your throat with his heavy hand. He didn't lace your fingers in his like tapestry threads. And he was anything but friendly. So it could never be Philia. He was not unconditional. Familial. Constant. Committed. Long lasting. Selfless. He crept in through the backdoor and took. Then slipped back out. So the thick blood red line was drawn through Storge. Agape. Pragma. The love you had was not for yourself. Without him you hated yourself. Hated how you didn’t feel needed. Or wanted. So Philautia was buried six feet under hot earth, the final nail in the coffin that was lowered into the rotting, thick-with-decaying-mulch, stenching ground. By none other than Mania.

This was something you came to realise as you stumbled from his truck back to your room. His come dribbling down your leg. Luke asleep on the sofa. Months passed of the same thing. He’d take you home from work, only letting you go once he'd had his fill. Played out the sick fantasy from mind to matter, let it bleed through his fingers into fruition. You let it happen for mania. It was the thing inside you that kept you going. Before you thought mania fed off your heartbeat. But now you realised mania fed your heartbeat. The kick it got every second fired the next muted pulse. That's what kept it alive. Energy for energy. You were never one to bite the hand that feeds. That’s a sinner's duty.

—

The usual sight of Luke slumped in his lazy boy, guzzling beer was what you expected. The liquor once again swigged past his lips and dribbling down his stubbled chin. Wiry greying hair greasy on his head, balding. Thinning. Residue from a line on the coffee table. You were never tempted by it before. And you were determined never be a Angel dust statistic like him.

Instead, you opened the flimsy door of your trailer to see him hunched over a small collapsible table. His hand running over his sunken eyes, dragging purple eye bags down with his fingertips in shame. Cards in his other. It had your breath catching in your throat like a hare in a wire snare trap. This time around the small collapsible round table. Cards in his hand. And two other men shared a knowing glance and a grim smile of satisfaction. Him.

Joel Miller.

The tension was thicker than molasses in the room. You only wished it was as sweet. You swallowed it down thickly. It stretched your throat. You watched in morbid fascination when he lay his hand on the table in a fan for all to horror at, a sly smirk slithering over his lips and curling the one corner of it up like a scorpion's tail.

“Full house.”

“Fuck!” And Luke’s hand slapped the tabletop as he folded.

The door clicked. All three looked up to see you. Luke, Joel, and the man who held a familiar resemblance to your own personal devil. With eyes on you, you felt more like that hare in the snare than ever. Clapping eyes on the hungry wolf as mutton dripped bloody from his sneer. Cruel and hungry. You imagined him as that wolf, hyde thick and bristled under your soft fingers as he led you to some deep, dark, thorny place. A place only lit by the eyes of owls who observed while he had his way with you. Ripped your stockings to get to sweet fruit.

“Great, the cunt is home.” Luke spat to the room but you, looking over the table again as he bit his thumb nervously to the edge of the hangnail. “Get me a beer.” Your nostrils flared in defiance at his demand, knuckles pale as fingers furled into a fist. An army of goosebumps had stood to attention all along your arms and the back of your neck. A shiver shattering down your spine. Your heart had enough of its prison of your ribcage in your anger, ramming into it over and over in a frantic hammering. And when that wasn't enough, you felt it in your throat. Among the tightening of your airways. “You hear me girl?” He asked, looking at you. He stood, chair scraping against the floor and you staggered back to the point your shoulderblades hit the door. While he was a thin, wiry man, he had a vicious backhand that stung. Like a vengeful aftertaste. “Y’need me to beat some sense inta ya girl, huh?!” You dared to spare a glance at Joel who was too busy collecting his winnings. You soon to be among them.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, looking to the floor and cowering off to the kitchen to get him his beer.

“Y’short, Luke.” You heard from the doorway, straining to hear the tail end of the conversation. Something about your uncle having it by monday. And then Joel telling him he shouldn’t raise a bet he doesn't have the dough to cover.

It took a second to catch your breath. Tears strung in your eyes and your chest threatened to split in two. Your sternum felt like it was cracking down the middle into clean halves under the weight of your chest. A hand clasped over your quivering lips to bite back a horrible sob and muffle it. Only your palm could know you were crying miserably. So you took a beer from the fridge, heard the hiss as the lid gave way and popped off. It clattered to the linoleum and you bared your teeth at the grating sound, picking it up and tossing it in the bin.

“Here.” You mumbled, placing it unceremoniously on the table in front of Luke.

“Y’got any spare cash on you, girl?” Luke asked, beady eyes staring you down as he raised the bottle to his lips and took a drink. You grimaced inwardly at the sight of his yellow teeth when he made a satisfied sigh.

“No.”

Joel’s brow raised. You should know by now not to lie to a man who can read you like a book. That's the thing about narcissists. They have a way of being able to understand you like a one word sentence on paper. A quick glance and you’re unravelling with concealed meaning and connotation.

“C’mon, Cherub…gotta have something from workin’ this late in that diner of yours…” You dared to challenge Joel with a look. A look that retreated soon after the advance of the glare of his eye. The same glare of the hungry wolf. Of the cheated man. It was unkind, and unyielding, and did not hold mercy upon the souls of the enthralled, the damned, or the harrowed. You might try to cross through the sentence, or turn the page. Or shut the book entirely. But the truth is still the truth even when you chose not to look. This was the man that knew your mind. Knew your body. And coaxed his will out of you each time. His word was all it took to cave, so you took the folded bills from your apron, flicking through them with a bitten back scowl,

“How much does he owe you?” Joel smiled with amusement, counting through his winnings to see what was short.

“Ninety-eight.”

‘What?” you asked, eyes wide, hurt. Disheartened. Fingers stilling halfway through the small stack. And Joel smirked.

“You heard me, Cherub.”

“Give Joel his money.” Luke warned.

“But it’s not his money! And it’s not yours to give!” You tried, and saw the warning tick of your uncle's narrow jaw. It was always set on edge before he threw a hand. Cast a palm across your cheek in a brandishing. It had you cowering. Relenting. Tossing the money in front of him. If it fell to the floor in its flurry he could pick it up and grovel about it. But Joel never grovelled. Only relished. Then reminded Luke of the money he still owed for the drugs.

And you walked back to the kitchen, biting into your lip again. With the devil and your demon in the next room over, you were sure this could be hell. A buzz filled your ears. Like the constant thrum of flies over roadkill. In festering flesh wounds where broken white of bone poked through gaping, bleeding holes. Blood matted in the hyde of the animal helpless and scattered across the road. A leg here, smashed teeth there. You were the roadkill. Joel was at the wheel of that which mowed you down. Luke was howling in the passenger side.

His boots thumped clumsily over the linoleum and he let out a huff through his nose while he adjusted his low slung jeans in the doorway.

“Cherub?” He asked, clearing his throat huskily — a consequence of the smokes he used religiously. You stood with your back to him, palms flat to the countertop and head hung low to fight the sting of tears simmering from within.

“He threatened to hit me.” You whispered, not turning to face him. If you mattered his ears would strain to meet you halfway. “And you did nothing.”

“Come on, Cherub…don't be like that.” he sighed, and you imagined him pinching the bridge of his hooked nose.

“He took my money. You took my money. How am I gonna get out of here without it?” You croaked, your tired eyes seeing faces of gaping mouths and slate black eyes in the speckled linoleum of the counter.

No reply came from the door. And when you turned it was empty. He had left. The other man had left. The tv was on again with the scream of a woman murdered. And Luke fell asleep in his lazy boy.

—

Another day, another shift. And more horror ensued. At first, what set the nerves thrumming was there was no sign of Luke. His truck was gone from its spot. No drunk slumped on the worn leather settee. No scream or grotesque image on the TV. Merely an empty bottle on the coffee table.

You swallowed, shutting the door cautiously with a muffled click of the latch. You didn't dare call his name. Just pushed it down into your stomach for it to churn the thought up in acid. But the horror jumped back up your throat into a lurid scream at the sight of your mattress tossed to the side. The moth bitten pillowcase on the floor, void of money. Your money. Gone. Someone had rifled through your belongings. Turned your only space into a mess. Strewn clothes, bed sheets, pillows in their haste. All your work. All the nights of living off bitter coffee from the pot at work, scrounging together tips. It made you seethe. The heat was an inferno at your fingertips, nails embedding crescents into your palms. You searched all over for it. But to no avail.

When Uncle Luke came home, he smelled of hard liquor. It was a miracle – or curse – he hadn't wrapped his car around a tree. He gloated, and sneered, and shoved it down your throat in his intoxication that he’d found it under the mattress. Joel had called him, told him you planned on leaving. And he connected the dots. Ransacked your room. Oh, how the man would hate his loose lips when you gave him hellfire.

You expected Luke’s reaction. You knew if he were to ever find out he’d snatch it up in his greedy, grimy hands and take it for himself. He spent all of it. Paid his debt to Joel, gambled some on bad luck bets, drank with the rest. Slugged liquor down his throat and got drunk off your labour. And then left you on your floor with tear stained cheeks and a heart of heavy lead.

You wanted your money. But would you take from the man who gave you your everything? Your sense of being. A religion and faith. You believed in nothing more than the way he held your name between his teeth. You forgot what your real name felt like in the same place. And it occurred to you that he had never said it. Did he know it? You weren't them anymore. You were Cherub.

The sweet and mourning lamb in you wanted to go over just to be his again, and not carry out the plan of taking back what was yours. That which he would see as sin. You felt guilt claw up your throat at the thought alone. It seemed blasphemous to conspire against him. Why do you insist on protecting yourself. You who was the sacrificial lamb?

If you did go – and you let him have you again – you were whole. But at what cost? Could you stand another night of temporary hell under the guise of heaven. Of touch so cold, like ivory or black ice. To have him thumb your skin with blunt endearments and the croon of ‘cherub’ past his chapped lips. Definite like black and white. No escape. What he’d do and how. Whispering them in the stone deaf shells of your ears like they were a sculpture. Pygmalion’s Bride. He’d made you all you were today. Took chisel to marble and carved out his masterpiece. Cherub.

You were soft, and pliable. Wax heated by his flame. You kissed back. You moaned for him. Begged him for his release and not your own. Bruised with his handprint. The warmth of life under flesh. But without him…you returned to marble. Another pretty thing to be gawked at. He tempted you with it because he knew more than anyone, more than god himself who watches these exchanges, that you can't live without him. It was like telling a child not to slip off to the woods in the dead of night. That was a pointless warning. You knew what lay there anyway, what threat it would be. That wolf in his thick bristled hyde. Curled up in his den. You would see it as innocence and vulnerability if you weren't so scared. But you knew when he woke up the teeth would shine again. And they’d tear flesh. Let blood. Gnash bone. Dripping from the glaring white once he finished with your carcass. Your matter between them and your crimson lacing his gums. Who knew being eaten alive could be so pleasurable.

But then again, how could bering alone really be hell if the devil wasn't there?

There is mania in your body. But you can't get it out. It rattles in your head and lungs and glues to the backs of your gnashers. No matter how much you wish to spit it out. It infects your tongue. It welds itself to the matter of your bones. Melts into the cracks between your teeth. Claggy against your tongue. All to show the sweetest of words have the bitterest of tastes. You can feel it swell underneath your skin. In the gap between muscles where it festers and heats you up. Like fever it burns, like the fire that consumes and the pillars that hold the temple up crack, the ground shakes, and the beast rears its ugly head at you. You’re losing your body to him. It's a fight you try to win. You dare to. You give your all, tooth and nail each time in the gaps between. In the silence and hollow that nestles in the middle of the meetings. In the quiet, where no one is around but the cracked plaster of your room. You stopped caring who fired the gun first. You were always the one who got shot down in the end. Right in the stomach. Blood gurgling up your throat in a grotesque plea for help.

All these weeks you had shrunk yourself to the size of a bird in his hands, sang a sweet sweet song of his name, until the squeeze of his first closest off your throat. And the sound stopped altogether. Laid there after the warning. Patient while you had your wings clipped and your freedom taken. And he took more. Took the beating of your heart with his teeth. Took the will to want. The will to love. The will to need anything else, as well as the need to have better. Below you were the foundations. Only now you saw them for what they were, a decaying mess of fragments, the stench of wood rot hot in your nose. A musk like no other. His musk. So in your anger you took an axe to a willow to see how it would weep. You slipped past the sleeping drunk you call Uncle Luke. Out the door, over gravel, past the truck he coaxed you to without the need of a sweet treat. You’d yank the axe from the bark of the weeping willow, its sob echoing in the wind that rustled its drapery of lush green leaves. Leaves that will wilt as sap bleeds from its severed trunk. Take the axe to the wolf. Cut him. Scrotum to throat.

Take back what was yours. And leave those woods skipping.

—

Your knocks descend upon his door in quick raps until he opened it with a grumble. Then a smirk. “Evenin’, Cherub.”

No salvation. No going back. No space among the clouds. Just the fall. You pushed past him into his front room. “Where is it?’ You hissed, tossing the cushions of the couch up. Nothing there. So you left them on the floor and did the same for the airchair. Nothing there either.

“Woah, calm down, girl!’ Joel huffed, reaching for your arm, which you tugged back from him in a new found strength surging you forward, out of his arms. “Where’s what?”

“My damn money, Miller!” You bit back with venom laced spit. A hunger for revenge making you salivate like a bad dog.

“The fuck you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I'm talking about, dickhead!” And he recoiled at your bared teeth, your verbal assault and battery, but went in for his own.

“Watch your damn foul language, girl!” He warned, reaching the end of his already short tether.

“You know how much he stole from me? Three hundred dollars of my hard earned chash. Forget my fucking ticket out of this shithole, I ain’t even paying rent now! And for what? Your god awful drugs!” His nostrils flared, and you watched the vein in his neck bulge under the sweltering heat of his own anger. Coiling inside him. Wounded bitch about to bite back.

“You didn’t have much of a probelm with my drugs after I fucked that pretty little hole of yours. All dumb and needy f’me, Cherub.” You grimaced at the sneer. But the feeling made your knees buckle. The name again. Cherub. You were Cherub. His cherub. “You want ya money back, huh? You can have it.”

That made you stutter. Thoughts skidding to halt at the sight of a brick wall. Crumpled matter as it smashed into it anyway. “What?”

“I ain't giving it to you for free though.”

“You're sick! It’s my fucking money!”

“Not in the eyes of the law its not.” And he folded his great oaks of arms over his chest in satisfaction. Once again one upping you.

“The eyes of the law? Says the fucking drug dealer. I bet you got way worse than coke in duffel over there. Wonder what the law would say about that?” It was said dismissively over your shoulder as you turned to leave. Alas, once again his large hand encompassed your wrist and squeezed. Pulled you back flush to his broad chest. His breath was hot on your neck as he whispered sweetly into your ear.

“Come on now, Cherub. You wouldn't do me in like that would ya? Not when I love ya…”

The way he said it…it didn't seem real. It was false. Comforting but not real. You knew it was a lie. This wasn't love. He didnt love. If he loved you he'd ask for your number then call you. Take you out. Let you cry on his shoulder and drive you home after. Kiss you in the dark for only the walls to see. Let you stay a night or two, or a whole damn week. Give you your damn money back. Stand up to Luke with a closed fist to the face. Leave swelling and a deep bruise on his cheekbone as a first and final warning.

“You love me?” You asked, voice small and hollow in your chest.

“Yeah, Cherub. I love you too.” He cooed, as if he knew you loved him already. All this and nose running over the curve of the side of your neck, tongue trailing hot in pursuit, it had you keeling over in confession at his feet. “You’re so cute when you're angry. Come on now, lemme make those tears go away…and you can have your money back, and we can forget this ever happened.” That tone…it was patronising. It made the sense in you rattle the cage of your ribs. Claw at the bars of bone and run into them like a caged animal. Because that’s what it was. A caged animal. But your heart was holding its hand over its mouth in a trance as it let his words ebb deeper. Somewhere between desperate and divine. But what was his motive?

God, Jesus, all above that is holy, you didn't care! After all this time, it was still no secret, or hushed uttering that Joel Miller was now everywhere in you. Scraping the backs of your teeth, festering like a virus in your bloodstream. Melding to the marrow of your bones. The walls of your cunt.

He still had a devastating habit of seeping through the cracks of your closed lids. Still ready to pillage and plunder his way through your head in its numbed state of sleep. When you could have finally— finally stopped and not felt. But he ebbs deeper. Always would. Always will.

It's what got you here. It would end you if it could. Snuff out your heartbeat and the fire inside of you. All he need do was lick his fingers and press them to the wick. And leave the smoke to string out and curl. You thought you were hungry for love before. But now you realised you were just hungry for the sight of your blood on his lips. The gnashing of you between his teeth. The curl you made of his brow. If it wasn’t devastating, reaping its agony in your silly little fractured chest— you didn’t dare need, nor crave it. You came for the pleasure but you stayed for the pain. And he took again, and again.

So you let him ‘make it up to you’. Let him claw at your clothes until they were scraps on the floor. Tore your stockings. Showed you those gleaming teeth. The wolf. And you, his sacrificial lamb. His Cherub.

“Feel that?’ He asked, with the slow drag back and forth of him inside you, parting you. This wasn’t fast, or rough. This was slow. And it made you need more. Need it faster. Need him hurtling you towards the edge of harrowing oblivion. He knew that. It’s why he took his time with it this time around. “Yeah. You do.” Joel answered for you. You never had to answer. But often he made you say it from your own quivering lips. Just to have the taste of the words from your tongue bleed into his. The neverending praise. “Why would you wanna leave that Cherub?” You couldn't answer, only let out a soft sob. “Huh? Answer me, Cherub. Why’d you wanna fuckin’ leave that?” And he punctuated it with pulling out to the bulbous head of his clock, then slamming back in with one sharp thrust. And then he was still.

You whined a shallow gasp into his mouth. But he didn’t kiss you. Joel never kissed you. His teeth sinking into your bottom lip shut you right up before his tongue delved deeper into it. The thumb of the hand that slithered between your legs rolled over your clit, making you mewl over the buzz of electricity causing you to clamp down on his thick, full cock. You were so eager for more. Anything more than what he was giving you. He smirked into your mouth when he felt your hips buck forward, trying your damn hardest to push his cock deeper into you. Silly little cherub. You should know better than to defy God. “See? Felt good didn’t it?” You nodded as much as you could in your current piston.

“Mhm.”

“See what you can have if you stay. Why fight it cherub?”

“Yes, Joel.”

“You gonna listen then, Cherub?”

“Yes. Yes! I’ll listen, just-” You shuddered at the thought of it, tears brimming at the the threshold of your eye. ”Please.”

“Say it.” He waited, wanting you to beg for it in the pretty way he knew you could. The choir voice. The songbirds hymn. The whole time his eyes did nothing but stare you down hungry at the sight of you falling apart from nothing but a hand to your throat and a single his throbbing dick buried in your aching cunt. It all pooled down into your centre, creating a rush your head had trouble keeping up with. “Tell me why you wanted to leave.”

“I dunno-” You stuttered, once again rolling your hips up. His hand at your throat pressed into your skin again, harder. It choked you. It had you drawing in a sharp, meagre breath. And he pulled out, running the underside of himself through the hot, drooling seam of your cunt. You shivered when the tip brushed up to your clit momentarily. The bead of precome at his slit smearing into your sex, mixing with your slick. “I dunno, Joel. I- I just wanted my money. I just wanted out. I hate it.” You babbled through closed eyes, chest heaving with sobs, and hot tears ran thick down your flushed cheeks.

“You hate it, huh?” He mocked and crooned, still catching your clit with the tip of his cock, hips waxing and waning in a slow roll. “You hate me too?” He knew the answer. But again, it was the satisfaction of knowing you were wrapped around his finger. Ready to bend over backwards for him. Him seeping into you through the cracks of your ribs, the gaps between your teeth. The opening of yourself to the twisting knot of denial within you. Your back arched like the lofty roof of a chapel, legs parting like its heavy doors. He followed you with hunger. You opened your mouth to speak but he squeezed momentarily on your throat again, oxygen starvation and the smell of him dizzying you. He relished in the whimper that he garnered from you. That and how he left you breathless just from his cruel touch.

“No.” You garbled as his thumb unhinged your jaw. Saliva in your mouth pooling while his thumb pressed your tongue down, bitter with a smokers telltale tobacco staining. It slipped past your lips, dribbled down his digits making a sticky mess at the curve of his thick wrist. He drew up a glob of saliva in his throat, watching as it drooled thickly, gluttonously, past his lips into your waiting mouth. He watched as you gagged on it, and then he let your jaw go so you could close your mouth. You swallowed eagerly, savouring the taste on your tongue. For what did it matter anymore? One day, you’ll be nothing but dust. Bronchioles in lungs will mimic roots. Navels will copy trunks. Organs will feed worms. Ribs will fossilise and lips that are kissed will mould back to Mother Nature. It's all you have ever been. Quick. Convenient. Easy to please, eager to help. Waiting lips, wanting cunt. Warm, never warm enough. But he kept you like a butterfly in a glass jar. He let you see freedom but never experience it. Why need it when you had the stretch of him inside you. The feeling of him, heat to heat with your sex.

“You want this, cherub? Wanna be stuffed full of me again?”

“Always wanted it, Joel.” You mumbled into his mouth, sniffing back the last this spurt of tears, hypnotised. His hand wrapped around his cock, the large splay of his palm did nothing to dwarf its size with he jacked himself once, twice, three times to the sight of you. He squeezed the base with hiss, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth after cursing under his bated breath. He was thick, flushed, the tip swollen and leaking, drooling greedily with a rivulet of precum down the underside of his length. He trod a path with his hands down to your breasts, kneading each one between his palms with a pinch before guiding himself back into the mouth of your heat, your cunt swallowing him down to the base. The needy roll of your hips into his showed just how desperate you were. He groaned at the start of the friction between you, and slowly dragged back out of you, moving just as slowly back inside. He repeated this twice, and then he let loose. The motion turned into a needy clash of his hips to yours. Again. Again. Again. Somewhere along the sting of passion and heat, his hand wrapped around your throat, feeling the flex of it as you swallowed under his palm. He bit down into your neck, reaching out from you as his hips slammed erratically. His heavy balls slapping against your ass with each rut forward of his unrelenting. The way he fucked you, was like holding a knife to your throat. It grounded you in the most harrowing way to each of his breaths. His panting in your ear. It swallowed you whole. Mad your legs wrap around his waist and your hips keen up into him.

Your cunt drooled down his shaft, down to the base, down the sensitive skin of his cock. He growled and hissed in your ear, teeth closing around your earlobe, his hand dragging back up and grip tightening around your neck. Getting off on the feeling of your pulse under his thumb.

You felt the knot tighten. And tighten. Right in the pit of your stomach, deep in your sopping wet cunt where the mouth of your cervix met his fucking. The walls of your cunt sucking him back in as the angle of his hips snapped up into the spot that had you seeing entire constellations. They darted to and fro across your vision. It blurred the edge, spots of dark matter, deep black, the colour of oblivion slinging over the back of your eyes that now burned with tears of pleasure. His fingers dug deeper into malleable flesh, gripped tightly at your hip with his free hand, thumb brushing over your hip bone down your mound to toy with your clit after a slap to it. And it was the action that sent you spiralling, babbling his name nonsensically among a string of curse words. So pretty and fucked out beneath him. Joel couldn’t help but stare smugly as your eyes rolled back into your head when your orgasm hit like a freight train. He came undone soon after, his climax hitting a crescendo with a growl bitten into your shoulder, bruising and brandishing you with his mark again.

He pulled back, leaving you to the mercy of the cold. Watching was his hips moved again to fuck his release back into you. Your hole quivered in protest, and you squirmed under him. “Don’t be fucking ungreatful now, Cherub.” You relented, going still and boneless on the mattress. Limbs unfurling from their tension. “That's it. Take it. Take it all.” He groaned smoothly. Just like the roll of his hips. He fucked it slowly back into you. And you took his release inside you to keep. “Good girl, Cherub.” He whispered, kissing your lips in a tender dichotomy. Not letting you rest until he was satisfied you took every drop of him. Afterall, it was all you’d have left of him until he next chose to pick you up. All the while, he trailed his tongue back down to your breasts, pressing the flat of it to your nipple, drawing it with a sharp suck into his mouth. Pressing the blunt of his teeth into your flesh. Letting the taste melt on his tongue. Salty with your sweat. He did the same to the others. When he went soft inside of you, and his hips stilled. He slipped out of you with hitched breath, the pad of his fingertips tracing your abused, used sex. Your legs twitching when he rolled your clit under two fingers. “I said stop squirming.” He grunted, landing another slap to your pussy. It made an obscene wet sound. His come dribbling out slowly.

“Open your mouth.” Joel commanded, and you did. Waiting for whatever he had planned. He licked a hot strip from your asshole to your cunt, pressing his tongue in to drag out some of his release. And he climbed back up to spit it into your mouth. A hand clamping down on your jaw. “Don’t swallow. Close your mouth.” And you did with the side of his thumb clamping it shut for you. “Taste that?” You nodded in response. It was hot, heavy and thick and salty to taste. Divine. “Show me.” You opened again, his creamy spend diluted amongst your saliva and he smirked. Clamping your jaw shut again. “Swallow.”

Joel watched in open mouthed amusement as the delicate column of your throat rippled under muscle contract. “Good girl, Cherub. Remember that taste next time y’feel like leaving again.” He warned in a growl. And you nodded, swallowing your pride. Your fear. Your mania aiding in shoving it down your throat to dissolve in acid. Once again you were in those deep dark woods. The one where the wolf lay. Remnants of you in his teeth. The willow is still weeping, slashed in half. The axe free of his bloodshed by the entrance of his den. The owls' eyes still lit the scene of sin where overhead the starlight was snuffed out by the tangle of branches thick in their black greenery.

You never got your money back. Maybe one day you'd get out of this town. But the devil has a funny habit of making you want your own suffering. Even angels can’t resist a slice of that heaven. Fallen angel. Wounded bitch. Cherub.

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jasmines-library · 7 months

Note

Can you do a Winchester brothers (mostly Dean) x sister reader where she is captured but they tie her to an anchor and drown her and the boys have to save her and bring her back to life

Sounds of Someday

WHUMPTOBER DAY 24: Prompt: “I thought they were with you?”

Fandom: Supernatural.

Summary: the request pretty much says it all. When you and your brothers split up during an unusual hunt, you get caught and become part of a witch’s ritual, which ends with your life slipping away and your brothers struggling to reach you as you are dragged away.

Warnings: Drowning, blood, capturing, character death.

Word count: 2.3k

Note: thank you so much for requesting anon! This was really fun to write. I hope you don’t mind that I included it in my whumptober series, I thought it fit interestingly with todays prompt!

MAST ERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

You and your brothers weren’t sure what you were hunting. There was no pattern- nothing set in stone to follow and every time you thought you had latched onto something in the lore, it would change unpredictably to something that contradicted what you’d just believed. At first, you thought it was a vampire. It had appeared out of nowhere, slinking in from the darkness. But then people started to go missing and the bodies were being discovered in strange ways: with nasty scratches, dark bruises or completely torn to shreds. Then, Sam led you on to believe it a spirit, looking to extract some sort of revenge. But you weren’t sure. Nothing was linear and it was making your head spin just thinking about it.

The town you were hunting in was quaint residence in the centre of Minnesota. It was surrounded by woodland and was fairly isolated from the rest of the world around it, making it the perfect stomping ground. It honestly surprised you that this place hadn’t cropped up before.

Your feet had begun to ache as you trudged slowly through the pine needles behind your brothers. You had a backpack slung over your shoulder which rattled as you hauled it higher up on your back. You had been walking for ages, training behind your older brothers who, given the fact they were much taller than you had managed to move at a much faster pace, having to take less steps due to their long strides. Sam had insisted that you stake out the woods in chance of finding something hidden nearby, but the area was vast and the three of you were yet to find anything in the hours of walking behind you. The sun had begun to dip below the horizon too, making it increasingly hard to gage your surroundings and keep your bearings.

“We should split up.” Sam said suddenly as you came to a fork in the path. It broke the silence that had gradually settled over you once you had run out of things to talk about.

Dean furrowed his brow. “What? Are you stupid, Sam?”

The tallest Winchester sighed deeply and slowed his pace to a stop. “We’re not going to find anything if we all huddle together. It’s getting dark and our best shot at finding something is if we split up.”

“That’s exactly my point, Sam. It’s getting dark and we don’t know what’s out there. Besides, there’s no way y/n is going out there on her own-“

“Y/n is old enough to go back to the motel alone-“

You scoffed, cutting him off with a stern look. “Do I get a say in this?”

“Y/n-“

“Dean.”

“You know we don’t like it when you go off alone-“

“I’m not a child, Dean. I can take care of myself.”

Your eldest brother let out a relenting sigh after shared an unspoken glance with Sam. The two of them had a habit of doing that. “Fine. But if you’re not back here within the hour then you’re in deep shit.”

You grinned, turning to head down the middle path.

“And y/n-“ Dean called out to you. You glanced back at him over your shoulder. “Keep your phone on.”

You nodded and made your way down the trail. Dean didn’t move for a while. Something nagged at him, so he stood as you wandered off into the trees, watching you with careful eyes. Little did he know that he wasn’t the only one watching you.

You had been walking for sometime. Too long. The woods had thickened and the darkness made it impossibly hard to tell the path ahead from the path you’d just taken. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were lost. And to make matters worse you hadn’t even found anything useful. You had considered messaging Dean for help; but that would involve admitting that you were wrong and you knew that if you did that you wouldn’t hear the end of it. You were reluctant, but when you reached into your pocket to pull out the device, you found that it was missing. You then considered turning back, you knew something was wrong and it was nearing an hour since you had left and were due to rendezvous with your brothers, so you would be able to reach them without worrying them…but that was when it caught your eye.

Dangling limply from a brunch, a piece of blood-splattered cloth hung. It was fresh, still dripping blood onto the muddy ground below it. It looked as though it had snagged on a branch. You reached out to collect it in between your fingers, turning it over slowly as your examined it. When you went to pocket it, there was a loud snap of a branch to your left.

Almost mechanically you had dropped the cloth and replaced it with the cool hilt of your pistol. You were on high alert, searching for the source of the sound. Then came other to your right. And then behind you.

You were surrounded.

You didn’t know where to direct your attention, whipping around to find your best course of action. But whoever or whatever was tailing you was smart and clearly outnumbered you.

Someone tackled you from the side, forcing you to the ground with a sickening thud. You screamed, startled. Delivering an upwards kick, you tried to throw the woman off of you, but her grip was firm as she rolled on top of you, pinning your wrists above your head and straddling your waist. There was another pair of hands working a rope around your feet and other around your hands. You tried to squirm, kick and scream, but a harsh slap left you disorientated as a gag was forced around your mouth.

Sam came to a halt at the rendezvous point. He was a few minutes late and was met with an antsy looking Dean, who was pacing and constantly glancing at the time displayed on his phone screen. Sam could see the gun he had loosely planted in his jean pocket.

Dean turned at the sound of footsteps approaching, but he was in no way revived. In fact the sight made his chest constrict. Sam was alone.

“Where is she?” Dean demanded, crossing the space between him and his younger brother in two large strides.

Sam furrowed his brow. “I thought she was with you?”

“No.” Dean fumbled in his pocket to bring up your contact number. “She texted me. She said she had found you and that she was gonna…”

Dean trailed off when Sam flashed up his screen to reveal an identical message. They had been played.

“Son of a bitch.”

“You think she did this?” Sam asked. It wasn’t something entirely out of character for you. You would often trick your brothers into getting what you wanted, or simply just for some peace and quiet.

“I-“

All ideas were cut short at the sound of a shrill scream, that caused both brother’s hearts to falter. Your scream. They would recognise your voice in a crowd of a thousand. Neither of them wasted any time as they darted towards the sound.

You had managed to make out three of them as they began to drag you through the woods over bumps. The pine needles gathered in your hair and clung to your clothes to poke at your skin. You knew that your brothers would realise quickly that something was wrong. It was hardwired into them. But one of them was doing something with your phone which you could only assume she had managed to snatch from your pocket somewhere along your trek.

You could only watch as they dragged you into a clearing. You were grateful when the upturned roots morphed into grass. The lake glistened under the moonlight and the start sky. It was the type of serene scene that you and your brothers would pull up at and sit on the roof of the Impala just to revel in the quiet. The thought only made the situation seem even sicker. When the women hauled you onto a dock, you sensed two more people lingering nearby. One of them held a weighted book and the other a set of chains fastened to what looked like some sort of anchor.

Your eyes flew open when the realisation hit you like a ton of bricks. They were witches. And you were part of their spell. You tried to dig the heels of your boots into the wooden slats and scrabble away, but one of them landed a kick to your stomach and dragged you closer again, hauling you up onto your feet and holding you tightly in their grasp.

One raised your hand, biting into it with a silver dagger and then squeezing it into a chalice. You’re screamed and bit into the gag. Then they began to chant. Old, foreign words that rang throughout your ears. But nothing stayed. Your mind was too hazy as your blood dribbled out of the wound. After the final word had been spoken, one of the male witches snatched you away and pushed you towards the edge of the dock. The water was dark and endless below you and you tried to teeter away from the edge but you were in a vulnerable position and with one wicked smirk and another chorus of chanting, you were sent tumbling over the edge and into the water. But not before you hear the faintest whisper of your name carried across in the wind.

There’s something irresistably poetic about drowning. You weren’t sure if it was the way that time slows to nothing the moment your body it’s the icy water, or the way that it was so quiet under the surface, but there was something about it.

Well, that was until you watched the bubbles escape from your mouth and your nose, rising up to the surface and the dissipating. You tried to kick the binds way, flailing to gain some traction on the water and pull yourself up the the surface so that you could take a desperate gasp of air, but the binds rendered you powerless as the anchor dragged you down down down into inky nothingness. Your lungs burned as you struggled to retain what precious air you had left in your lungs, jerking and twisting to try and get free, but the struggling left you tired and soon the last of the air rose from your mouth. The water assaulted your eyes too, blurring your vision even through there wasn’t much to see besides the white light of the moon above.

Somewhere above your there was a loud splash as Dean delved deep into the water, scrambling after you. He had watched in horror as your body pummelled off the side. He didn’t think he could urge is legs to go any faster as he ran next to Sam who helped him make quick work of taking down the witches. Once the odds had been evened Dean took the plunge after you.

His body nearly went into shock against the stabbing of the cold, but he paid no mind to it as he watched your body sink at an alarming rate. Your hair drifted around you like a halo as he urged his body forwards to catch up with you.

Somehow he managed to wrap a calloused hand around yours. He pulled you to his chest, palling at your stillness, and fumbled to release you from the anchor. Once the heavy weight was gone, he gave one hard kick after pushing your body so that it could drift to the surface, following closely behind and ignoring the burn in his chest.

When his head broke the surface the took a huge, spluttering gulp of air, sucking it in greedily. But you didn’t move. You didn’t squirm to keep yourself afloat, your chest rise and fall, you didn’t even blink.

Dean was then paddling his way over you you, lifting your body so that Sam, who was clinging to the edge of the dock with an outstretched hand could pull you into land.

“Come on!” He urged, gripping you under the armpits and pulling you back onto try land. Dean was inches behind, silently praying that you would be okay. But your heart had stopped.

“No. No no no.” Dean cried at your stillness. “Come on y/n. You don’t get to do this to us.”

He hovered over you, locking his hands in place to begin CPR.

“Come on, sweetheart.” He pleaded, breathing into your mouth. He could feel the resistance in your lungs. His chest tightened further.

“Dean-“ Sam’s voice wavered as he laid a hand on his shoulders.

“No. Shut up Sammy.” He shook his head and blinked away the tears and he pressed harder against your chest, winching at the sound of them splintering beneath the force of his compressions. “She’s fine. She’s fine.”

“Dean…”

You sat up abruptly, heaving a wet cough as you keeled over expelled the water from your lungs. Dean patted your back to help. Everything hurt, your head, your joints, your lungs.

“That’s it, kid. Let it all out.”

“They… they-“ you tried to speak, but your voice was horse and scared so it came out more like a whimper. You took in deep breaths.

Dean cradled you to his chest, rocking you back and fourth in his arms as you sobbed, shivering from the cold and the shock.

“You’re okay, kid.” Sam tried to reassure you.

“We’re here y/n. We will always protect you, no matter what. And as long as you are here, we will always keep you safe. I promise.”

<- DAY 23 ⛤ DAY 25 ->

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

Taglist:

@deans-spinster-witch

@senjoritanana

@amaryllis23

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captainsophiestark · 3 months

Text

Presentation Problems

Tristan Flynn x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Fandom: Crescent City

Summary: We all need a little distraction from work sometimes, and lucky for Flynn and Y/N, they stumbled into each other's lives at the perfect time.

Word Count: 2,479

Category: Fluff, Humor

A/N: This is functionally a prequel to Nosy Best Friends and The Best Night Ever, but it can also be read independently of that!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I muttered to myself as I tried to force my brain to comprehend the words on the page, to write something coherent related to that, but I just couldn't do it. I'd been studying in an empty classroom, working on a massive grad school presentation due tomorrow for hours, and I just couldn't make another complete thought materialize. The stupid book was mocking me, and so were my notebooks, and so was my laptop.

And I'd had it.

"ARGH!"

I flung my notebook as hard as I could, as far away from me as I could get it. A split second later, the door to the empty classroom I'd commandeered flung open, and a very tall fae male stepped inside. My notebook hurtled right at his face, but at the last moment, he managed to catch it with a free hand. He blinked at it, eyebrows furrowed, then looked up and made eye contact with me.

I stared right back, both of us trying to figure each other out for a few moments. As a human, I wasn't totally sure I didn't need to find a way to get the Hel out of here, immediately, but I was also exhausted and more frustrated than I'd been in a long time. If ever there were a time for me to throw hands with a Vanir, it was now.

"Who are you?" he barked, one hand still holding my notebook and another drifting towards the gun at his side. Looking at him for more than two seconds made it clear he was part of the Fae Aux. Just my luck.

"A student trying to get some fucking work done," I snapped before I could stop myself. "Who the Hel are you, and why are you barging into empty classrooms on my campus?"

He blinked at me for a moment, apparently surprised by my outburst, but I just crossed my arms and stared him down with a raised eyebrow. I was exhausted, and I didn't want to get back to work, but I also didn't want to stay here a moment longer than I had to. And I couldn't get anything done if I had to deal with a member of the Aux first.

"We're chasing somebody who ducked into this building to try to lose us. They're dangerous, especially to a human, so I need to get you out of here."

His hand dropped fully from his gun and he started walking towards me with purpose. I took a few steps back to put a desk between us and glared at him.

"No way! Do you know what I'm doing right now? I'm fighting for my life working on a presentation that makes up a ridiculous percentage of my grade, and it's been absolute Hel, but I am so close to being done! I am not leaving now."

He raised one eyebrow at me, then held up my notebook.

"This is close?" He sounded a little amused, and I noticed a spark in his eyes that hadn't been there when he'd first stepped through the door. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"I have more notebooks right here that I can huck at your head again, so I'd watch it with the taunting of the stressed grad student."

He let out a chuckle, a smile that he didn't try to hide breaking out on his face.

"You know it's illegal to attack a member of the Fae Aux?"

"If you bother to spend time on me when you're chasing an apparently dangerous perp and have a thousand other, better things to be doing in this city, then your whole department is a waste of time and resources."

He laughed again, that spark in his eye getting even more noticeable, not seeming the least bit bothered that I'd just called his job worthless. A loud crash from outside the classroom quickly sobered him, though. He dropped the notebook on the desk before me and raised one finger to his lips for quiet, then started moving towards the door, one hand resting on his gun again. I watched him take a deep breath, before flinging open the door on the exhale, drawing his weapon and launching into the hallway.

If I weren't so pissed at him, with the last bit of emotional capacity being taken up a sliver of fear, it actually would've been pretty hot.

Instead, I flipped my tossed notebook back open to the page I'd been working on, keeping half my attention on the door and getting ready to throw something heavier in self-defense if I needed to. It didn't take long though for my original interruption to return.

"Hey, don't throw anything at me, alright?" he called from the hallway, easing through the door a moment later. He hand his hands up in mock-surrender and he shut the door behind him with his foot.

"Why are you back in here?"

"Ouch. That's all I get?"

"For interrupting my studying? You're lucky you're not getting worse."

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile, but it quickly faded as he crossed the room to stand in front of me again. I eyed him suspiciously, still keeping half my attention on my notebook.

"The guy we're looking for wasn't in the hall. It's seriously not safe in this building until we find him, especially for a human. So you need to go."

"No way. I'm not leaving this building until I'm done with this presentation, and then I'm not coming back to this building until I have to. And I'm not letting a single thing change this plan for me. I will fight you tooth and nail if you try to drag me out of here, Aux boy, and don't make the mistake of underestimating the amount of fight I can put up."

The guy sighed, long and heavy, running a hand through his hair as he did. I crossed my arms again, and I didn't break or look away when he fixed me with a look.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

He huffed again, letting the silence drag out a little bit more, then spoke again when I still didn't budge.

"Dammit. Fine." He stepped aside and typed a few hurried texts into his phone. I watched him suspiciously, and after a few moments, he turned back to me. He plopped down in the chair at the desk across from mine, and I frowned.

"What are you doing?"

"Like I said, it's not safe in this building for you to be alone in an abandoned classroom right now. So I'm going to make sure you stay safe in here, since you won't leave, until my partners catch the guy we're looking for in the rest of the building."

I crossed my arms.

"So what, you're just gonna hover over me for the rest of the night?"

He shrugged. "Pretty much."

"No way! That's gonna be distracting as Hel, and I don't need a fae bodyguard."

"As great as your aim is with that notebook, sweetheart, this is a threat greater than half the Aux could handle. And unless you want to take time out of your studying to try to kick me out of here?"

I narrowed my eyes, mentally trying to calculate just how long that might take. He apparently could tell, because he fixed me with a grin and tried (and failed) to be subtle about flexing. I huffed and rolled my eyes, but I returned my attention to the notebook in front of me all the same.

"Alright, good," he said with a smile. "Glad we could come to an understanding. I'm Flynn, by the way."

"Flynn. I'm busy. Do me a favor and don't distract me any more than you already have."

He snorted, but I didn't look up from my notebook again.

It took me longer than I wanted to get back into focus-mode, but I kept waiting for Flynn to say something or do something that distracted me. Instead, he just sat on the other side of the table, flipping through some of the books I wasn't using but otherwise staying quiet.

It made me a little suspicious, but I decided not to question it. Thankfully, I eventually managed to get back in the zone, almost completely blocking out the fae before me. The distraction he'd unintentionally provided had been exactly the break I needed for one final push. My nose was barely an inch from my notebook and then my laptop screen as I finished putting everything together, then finally flopped back in my chair with a sigh.

"You done? Or are you about to pick up your notebook and start looking for another target?"

"You know what, I'm so happy to be done with this stupid project that I'm not even going to comment on your assumption that I'd find another target, instead of just keeping the one right in front of me."

Flynn snorted, but I just smiled at him. When he caught my eye, a small smirk slowly spread on his face too.

"So, are you ready to finally let me get you out of here? Or do you have more to do?"

I huffed, crossing my arms and leaning back in my chair.

"I should actually probably practice this presentation once or twice, since I'm supposed to be giving it tomorrow... no chance your mystery perpetrator is gonna get my classes canceled for a few days, is there?"

Flynn grinned. "Sorry sweetheart, but you're out of luck on that front. I got a text about an hour ago that my Aux partners managed to catch the guy."

I frowned, my brain trying to process that. If the bad guy he'd been after had been captured an hour ago, then why the Hel was he still here?

My face must've conveyed as much, because Flynn kicked back in his chair and crossed his arms before clearing his throat.

"You seemed like you needed some company. I wouldn't know personally, but I've heard it's easier to study sometimes when you're not just sitting in a room by yourself."

I grinned. "Wow. That's actually kind of... cute."

Flynn raised an eyebrow. "Cute?"

"Yeah. And since you've already proved your dedication to helping me with my work... any chance you'd be willing to let me practice my presentation on you?"

Flynn groaned, throwing his head back a little before fixing me with another look.

"I won't lie, I was hoping your sentence would go somewhere a little more fun."

I shook my head as I stood up, carrying my notebook and laptop with me.

"Nope. So, what do you say, Aux boy? You in?"

He huffed a dramatic sigh, but when I turned back around after setting up my presentation, he'd turned his chair to face me and was leaning back, ready to pay attention.

"Last chance to escape," I teased, giving him a little smile as I walked to the center of the room. He just grinned right back.

"I'm not going anywhere."

And for some reason, his words made my heart skip a beat. But I ignored it, instead launching into the final presentation of the project I'd been working on for way too long. I started out a little stilted, but I'd been staring at the material for so long that I hardly needed to look at my notecards, so instead I looked at Flynn. He smiled at me, nodding along and clearly showing his engagement, and slowly but surely it helped me find my rhythm. By the end of the presentation, I didn't need to rewatch the recording I'd set up to know I'd aced it.

"That was great! I normally don't give a shit about any of this crap, but you made it interesting. And... I think you actually might've managed to teach me something."

I couldn't help laughing, feeling lighter than I had all semester as I gathered up my project materials.

"I'm glad to hear it. Thank you for listening."

"Sure thing." I finished packing up, then turned to face Flynn, the two of us standing a few feet apart. "Are you sure you don't want to run through it again? I don't mind."

I smiled. "No, that's okay. I appreciate the offer, but I feel really good about this. And now that I'm done, I don't want to look at this shit ever again, except for when I have to present it tomorrow."

Flynn chuckled, his eyes scanning my face before meeting my eyes again. The corner of his mouth quirked up, and my heart stuttered in my chest again for just a second. By the look on Flynn's face, his fae senses had allowed him to notice it.

"Since you're all set for your presentation..." he started. "Maybe you could let me take you out tomorrow night. To celebrate, once you won't have any more reason to throw books at peoples' heads."

Slowly, a smile spread across my own face. Still, I tried not to let myself get too carried away. Not right away, at least.

"I didn't think fae usually took humans on dates. Especially not members of the Aux who are also fae nobility."

Flynn's eyebrows raised, the only sign he was surprised. But then that surprise turned into a smirk.

"Did you look me up, sweetheart?"

Heat rose to my face, and I quickly broke Flynn's gaze.

"I was hanging out in a room with you alone for over an hour. I saw you flipping through my notebooks, I figured I might as well get some information of my own-"

I stopped short at the feeling of Flynn's fingers just under my chin, gently stopping me in my tracks and raising my gaze to meet his. My heart sped up quickly, my eyes widening, and he immediately dropped his hand from my face.

"You don't have to say yes if you're not into it. But I like you, and I'd like to take you out tomorrow night if you're interested. Human or not, I've never been so interested in somebody, even if that somebody did begin our relationship by throwing a book at my head."

Slowly, a slight smile returned to my face as I studied Flynn with new interest. He was undeniably handsome, and based on everything I'd seen so far, he didn't show any signs of the red flags I'd seen or head from Vanir before.

"Alright. You're on. But you should know, if it goes well, I can't promise there won't be more flying books in the future."

"Good," he said, grinning and offering me a hand. I hesitated half a second, then took it with a smile. "I need somebody to keep my reflexes sharp, and it might as well be a gorgeous girl."

I laughed as the two of us headed out of the classroom together, hand in hand. We'd just met, but somehow, this just felt easy. It felt right. I hardly knew this male, but I just got a good gut feeling about what was coming next.

If only all Hel-cursed study sessions could end this way.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

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wowbright · 5 months

Text

Fic: Reservations

Fandom/pairing: Glee, Kurt/Blaine

Event: December Klaine Fanworks Challenge 2023, day 12: rail

Words: ~ 650 words

Rating: Mature

Summary: Cooper gives Blaine a present and some advice.

Notes: This is part of my Mormon!Klaine universe. It takes place after Out of Eden, which I am still in the process of posting to AO3. It’s among the likely possibilities for their future. It’s sort of a continuation of Proposal, and it's rated mature only for dialog.

* * *

Right as Blaine pulled up to the departure terminal at the Phoenix airport, Cooper made a surprise announcement.

“I know you and Kurt were planning to stay with the family of a friend of some missionary you met in Germany when you go to Salt Lake City, but frankly, that's stupid. I mean, if you really want to meet them, you can have lunch. You two must be desperate for privacy after your crazy homecoming.” Cooper tapped something into his phone. “There. I sent you the reservations. Hotel’s right off Temple Square. Can you believe I was able to get you a honeymoon suite at this short notice? It's even got a view of the temple, since you two still seem to be into that kind of thing. If not, I guess you can always close the curtains.”

A notification buzzed on Blaine’s phone. It was an email from Cooper with all the info about the reservation. Even with it right there in front of his eyes, Blaine was having a hard time processing. "Honeymoon suite?”

“Yeah. It's my wedding present to you.”

Blaine's mouth went dry. This was supposed to be a secret. How many people knew? “Wedding... present?”

Cooper put his hand on Blaine’s shoulder. “Look, I know I shouldn't eavesdrop, and I didn't mean to, but if you don't want people to overhear you, then maybe you shouldn't be talking in the kitchen about whether or not Kurt needs to send home for his birth certificate.”

“It was four-thirty in the morning! Everyone was supposed to be asleep! When are you up at four-thirty in the morning?”

"What can I say? I'm unpredictable. Directors love that about me. But I knew you wouldn't, so I had to go back into my bedroom and hide and not get up until 6 a.m. just so you two wouldn't freak out.”

But Blaine was doing exactly that right now. “Does anyone else know? Does Mom know?”

Cooper shook his head. “If you're asking if I told anyone, no, I didn't. And I'm certain no one else knows, or someone would've called a family meeting about it. You're fine. Just be careful.”

“I'm trying. Our family is just so—”

"I wasn't talking about our family. Screw them. I was talking about when you’re in the honeymoon suite. There's a Jacuzzi, and I know how newlyweds are about Jacuzzis. To those who haven't tried it, spontaneous sex in a Jacuzzi sounds like the best thing ever, but it's really not. The water washes away almost every kind of lubrication, natural or man-made. But if you're that desperate to get railed in a Jacuzzi—or to do some railing, or exchange handjobs, or whatever, I don't want to make any assumptions—you need to get some silicone lube and practice applying it first. If a hole will be involved, maybe even put some in there before you get in the water. A little goes a long way. And not your mouth. Do not put silicone lube in your m—”

Blaine hid his face against the steering wheel. “Oh my gosh Cooper, why are you so—” A car horn blared behind them.

“Guess I should get going,” Cooper said casually, as if he hadn’t just been giving Blaine a graphic lecture on sexual safety in hot tubs. “We can't sit in the drop-off zone all day. Hug for your big brother?”

Blaine had half a mind to kick his brother out of the car without even looking at him. But the other half convinced him not to. Red-faced, he leaned over the console to hug his brother. “Thanks, Coop. Not for the unsolicited sex advice, but … you know.”

"Well, I've got a big trust fund from my first mom that our dad was thankfully never allowed to touch, and I've got to do so something good with it.”

"Not for that. I mean, yes, thanks for the hotel, but also…” Blaine trailed off. He wasn't crying, exactly, but he did have to sniffle.

“I know, bunso," Cooper said, rubbing Blaine’s back. "I know.”

#december klaine challenge 2023 #day 12: rail #mormon!klaine #wowbright writes fic #klaine fic #klaine fanfic #klaine fanfiction #humor with feels

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autisticlancemcclain · 1 year

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fic rec friday 23

welcome to the twenty-third fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

1. lucky i’m in love with my best friend by @nezueye

“I really wanna kiss you right now,” Lance murmurs, staring at Keith’s lips.

“So kiss me."

Lance scrunches up his nose. “In front of all of our friends? I thought you were allergic to PDA.”

Keith shrugs. “You’ve been sitting in my lap for the past 20 minutes and I’ve been basically groping you the entire time.” He punctuates this statement by bringing his hands back to Lance’s ass and squeezing just a little, as a treat. “Some more PDA is okay, I think.”

yes i know i recced one of nez’s fics last week and i’m here doing it again. they’re amazing okay. every single time the devotion settles heavily in my lungs im ALLOWED to be obsessed with them. this one gets to me especially bc its established relationship, which is my favourite dynamic always, and its as funny as it is sweet!! double blamy!! also the title is from possibly the most klance song ever, and if you would like to hear jeremy shada (lance’s VA) singing a cover of the song... you’re in luck

2. the meaning of donuts by @katranga

The next few days were filled with Lance informing everyone, multiple times, of their “new” friendship. “We’re friends now, did you hear? Keith and I are friends.” Over and over, big smile, loud voice. Looking between Keith and whoever he was telling like he expected a round of applause. Or confetti. Or a parade. What he usually got was somebody making a crack about bonding moments, which prompted a tight, put-upon sigh on Keith’s end. And Lance would look at him fondly, and Keith would have to bite his cheek to distract himself from how much he wanted Lance to lean over and kiss him. -- Keith realizes he may, potentially, possibly have some feelings for a certain blue paladin and he is Not Thrilled about it.

14k words of keith being exasperated by himself by being disgustingly in love with lance and lance being increasingly more in love but lowkey being oblivious about it??? hell fucking yeah!! lance is so bright in this fic bc thats how keith (begrudgingly lol) sees him and its so true and wonderful

3. perish the rest, this thought is yours by @moonguilt

“Lance? Lance can you hear—” Keith's voice crackled unintelligibly. “—big hit. Are you—” More crackling, and—silence.

Lance frantically pressed his comm button. “Keith? Keith, hey, uh, small problem maybe—”

The control panel flickered a few times, then sputtered out, and suddenly Red was falling—eerily slow at first, then faster than a bullet. Lance bit back a scream, smashing buttons and yanking at the controls desperately, but Red just kept falling, falling, falling, and all Lance could do was watch as she turned belly-up in the air, giving him a perfect, horrible view of Black taking several heavy shots directly to the cockpit.

This time he did scream. But it did no good, and Lance was forced to watch as Black—as Keith—careened toward the moon's surface, a faint trail of purple dusting his wake like the tail of a comet.

————–

Lance and Keith are sent on a mission to answer a distress signal from the desert moon of Xat-lor VII. They get more than they bargained for, both in enemy numbers and in feelings. They have to fight to survive long enough for the rest of their team to arrive, and in the meantime, Things Happen.

i will Never get tired of flirty keith. somehow in the first couple years of this fandom we forgot that keith is the one with game and lance is the one whos freqently getting flustered and tongue-tied, and god bless finn for reminding us. this fic has post s7 but only the good parts (and fuck s8), black paladin keith red paladin lance, bamf co leaders who are in love and also stupid, and (im mentioning it again bc Duh) flirty keith. loml.

4. feel it in the space in between by angelbolt

“Coffee champagne, in my opinion, would be carbonated coffee with a shot of white wine. Does that sound like a good time to you?”

“It sounds like a great time.”

Adam leaned in, his nose wrinkling with a smile as he whispered, “Junkie.”

“You love it,” Takashi dismissed, kissing the wrinkles. “You think it’s endearing.”

Adam drummed his fingers over Takashi’s scalp, “I find too many of your flaws endearing, my love.”

“Even my dad jokes?” ✦ takashi and adam get engaged.

prekerb adashi does NOT get enough attention!!! at all!! i love them in love and happy with baby keith!!! this fic is sweet and sappy and gives both shiro and adam some much-needed dimension. shiro is a DOG and i love that for him. the big hero six scene made me cry.

5. two bros, chillin’ in a space pool by angelbolt

Harrumphing, Lance paddled to the edge, heaving himself to sit on it, one foot extended to point at Keith, "Fine! Then if you believe yourself to be so much better than me—"

Keith seemed distracted, mouth slightly open, "I never said—"

"I challenge you to a duel! A swimming duel!"

He looked wholly unimpressed once again, "Wow, that's new." ✩ My take on why they were both shirtless.

i will never in my life get over angry pining. the idea of being down bad for someone and FURIOUS about it will never not be funny to me. this entire fic in general made me laugh out loud and in particular this fic used the word ‘ah-HOOGA’ unironically which is not only ballsy but also beyond my words to properly appreciate. lance is a menace. early s1 fics my love

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

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beastabyss666 · 1 year

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Ok......So, the new HB episode is out, how unexpected for me. I apologize to my fellow readers for not reviewing the previous episode, but I was so tired and busy, having to deal with a lot of work. The cat must have got my tongue when I saw the dildo scene, I'm sorry. And what can I say......Actually, this episode is the best one in the 2 season at this moment. I mean, at least it wasn't that cringe and plot ruining as the other ones.

The animation looks pretty good in action scenes(and not so good in other, especially when some characters speak). The backgrounds look good, and I somewhat like the fact that the Sloth Ring is pink. Looks so sweet, bubblegum and cotton candy-like. But the floating pieces of ground are very cliche for a fantasy world. Also I think there were too many sound effects, when sometimes it feels like there's a lack of them. In principle, everything is as always. Stolas is a damsel in distress again, Moxxie and Millie are boring, Stella is evil(and extremely stupid for some reason), Blitzo is loud and annoying and spits cuss words every second because the authors think it's funny. Also Loona just...... didn't speak in this ep at all. No words. Don't know if it's good or not. The plotline of her going to doctor and being afraid of shots is pretty boring, tbh. I still have no idea why hellhounds are treated like some pets in this universe when they're competent and sensible beings. Also, I don't know if anyone told that or this is just me, but I absolutely hate the idea of putting fucking westerns in "Hell". I know Vivzie isn't so original and her universe is super bland and uninteresting, but shit, westerns just don't stick in the setting of Hell at all, it's not that vibe and it looks ridiculous. And that's not because I don't like westerns. Striker's song felt absolutely redundant, and Striker himself seems....unnatural? Seems like Vivzie made him that masculine bigot guy who's bigheaded and is obsessed with having a huge cock(because dicks are funny according to the writers). They have finally showed Andrealphus, Stella's brother, and there's nothing interesting about him to say. I'm just glad they didn't make him a stereotypical gay. Knowing Vivzie's "rep" and how feminine he looks, it would be predictable. As I've said before, he looks like a shameless Elsa ripoff, as his blue ice castle(covered with red fucking sky, god, these palette choices burn out my eyes). I've heard some controversial and suspicious stuff considering him and Stella(more precisely, someone says that originally they were going to have incestuous relationship). Not sure if it's true, and I do hope that Vivzie won't go so far in making Stella an unredeemable villain.

I didn't see anything "weird" or vulgar in their conversation, it felt like puerility. I like to imagine that their relationship is like a niminy-piminy brother always cheering up and complimenting his little sis because he can. I've seen some cartoons with a similar character dynamic and a certain part of their fandoms found indecent connotation in this, and that's their problems in their depravity. And yeah, I know that my thoughts aren't true and they obviously have a manipulative relationship. Andre straight up insulted Stella and manipulated her, btw. If Viv really wanna do them having incest - fine, another reason to quit watching this show. But something tells me that she won't dare to lose a bunch of fans and be yet again cancelled in social networks.

Summing up, this episode was pretty good by the standards of the season and bad by the standards of..... something qualitative I guess? Viv still hasn't learned how to separate drama from comedy, which makes it difficult, no, impossible to feel Stolas' sad shit. This character is one of my personal winners in the list of the most repulsive and annoying creatures and him always being sex crazed about Blitzo pisses me off. How the hell are we supposed to take him seriously if all he wants is a dick? The rest of the time he whines about how unhappy he is and pretends to care about his daughter. Season 2 continues to look like terrible Wattpad fanfiction and it discourages from watching this series. It's not even fun to hate or criticize it anymore, it's just......Ehh.

#anti vivziepop #spindlehorse critical #vivziepop critical #anti helluva boss #helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critique #helluva boss salt

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scoutbert · 9 months

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Heyy idk if anyone here remembers me or cares but I figured I'd make a little life update just in case. And if not, maybe I'll just look back on it in a few years and smile.

I've had this blog for about ten years now. I was a freshman in high school when I began. It was memes, fandom, and the occasional depression. I even posted some pretty dark stuff a LOT of the time because I felt like I had nowhere else to vent.

Now I am 24. Twenty four!! I can't believe it. I lived!

I've been homeless, I've been traumatized. Went through a lot of stuff! If you like to feel sad and lurk, feel free to check out my tags for more context, haha. Some of it is pretty triggering and downright toxic so yeah take care of yourself.

But yeah. Twenty four. Sheesh. I am in a much better place now. I have an apartment with some friends and my partner. We have a little dog. I got a new car that I don't have to live in anymore. I work gigs like food delivery and dog walking. Money is always tight, but what else is new?

I still have a little problem with the booze and the weed, but I'm not searching for ways to destroy myself anymore. I don't seek chaos just because that's where i felt the most normal.

I'm learning to be okay with peace. And mediocrity. I used to- well, still do sometimes- compare myself to everyone I knew my age, people who had support systems I could never dream of, who went to college, and found their dream job. Who never wanted for anything. Always smiling.

I learned that it's not a competition. Life, that is. As long as I wake up every morning, I call that a win. It doesn't matter that this person from school makes six figures and already has a house and a kid. I get to wake up and walk dogs and look at trees and flowers, and I get to come home all sweaty and take a hot shower and make a sandwich. That's enough for me, for now. Much better than couch surfing and showering at planet fitness and eating gas station sandwiches.

Anyway. At the risk of overdoing it, I just wanna say thanks Tumblr. You were my anonymous diary for years. I received support from strangers I can never repay. I laughed at memes, made art, got in arguments about stupid shit.

I'm not leaving! Just expressing gratitude I never had. I am no longer full of hate. Just a morsel now, haha. There will always be a part of me that is bitter about everything I had to go through, and embarrassed at how I handled it. But I did my best and most people met me where I was at and accepted me anyways, even when I wasn't at my best. Thank you.

If I ever hurt you or exhausted you, thank you, and I am sorry.

Anyway. Yeah. Thanks. I'm doing okay. Good, even. Now that I'm not in crisis constantly- and I was in crisis for the better part of those ten years- I think I will find something I am passionate about, and work at exploring it. That sounds nice. :)

#scoutbert #personal

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warlock-enthusiast · 7 months

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“Don’t worry, I got you.”

Prompt number: 2 Fanfiction Fandom: Baldur’s Gate 3 Rating: PG Characters: Halsin, Tav (Elisen), HalsinxTav Warnings: non apply

They’d faced nothing but rain for the last week. Day after day, night after night. Everyone became a little grumpy and a little frustrated and tensions rose while their feet were wet. Camping outside seemed their only choice and all tents were soggy and started to smell weird. Even Scratch and his new best friend appeared a little less enthusiastic and cowered close to the fire for most of the time.

Only a few days until they would reach the city and no one seemed to truly enjoy the thought. Maybe Karlach, but within her happiness lingered something dark and memories of the past. She and Astarion could readily agree on how Baldur’s Gate offered them dreams and haunted them at the same time. To be honest, she was quite happy to not be at the camp at this moment, able to stare into a river and not ponder about the woes of everyone.

Elisen put one bucket to the side and reached for the second one.

Elisen sighed and filled buckets with water. Gale needed it for the stew and she saw it as a way to escape the gloomy camp for a few minutes. Lately she barely had time to follow her oath and work for what the ancients demanded of her. The nature around seemed dull and lifeless as if being sucked dry.

Her connection to the Feywild was also disturbed by the thing stuck in her head and she despised how cut off it felt. How she did not feel the presence of her Lord Oberon.

Her right leg buckled and so did the left. She tried to keep balance with moving her arms and certainly looked very stupid. Elisen already saw herself landing ass first in the mud as a pair of strong arms pulled her away from the sudden disgrace.

Suddenly the ground gave away.

Deep in her own misery, she had not looked at her surroundings and missed a patch of slippery earth.

“Don’t worry, I got you.” Halsin didn’t let go. Instead his hug was strong enough to completely press her against his chest.

She felt his heartbeat, smelled his skin. A scent of the wild, cedar, the earth, elderberry.

“Thanks.” Compared to her clammy self he offered warmth and stability. Part of her wanted to sink into his arms and not worry about anything anymore. They’d flirted, danced around the subject of a romance and everytime Halsin talked about duty and the right time. Elisen was not sure that it’d ever come. Even now, with them being so close, he did not go a step further. Always upholding this strange, invisible barrier instead of finding her lips.

A blush crept on her cheeks and she kept her head close to his chest. Halsin did not move and neither did she.

“Can we stay like this for a little while?”

“Did you follow me?” Elisen’s voice sounded muffled and was swallowed by his armor.

“We shouldn’t venture out alone. Who knows what these woods hide. So the answer is: yes.” The movements of his chest seemed almost soothing. By the Gods, she wanted to never let go. Unspoken emotions bubbled in her throat and her tongue felt too heavy to communicate any of them. Where to start? She’d never encountered someone like him and the weight of her feelings made it hard to breathe at times.

Halsin swallowed and his big hand touched the small of her back. “Yes.”

#fictober23 #halsin #tav #halsinxtav #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #elisen adfaren #headcanons

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notmoreflippingelves · 4 months

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@saemi-the-dreamer asked: Esteban: 2, 7, 18, 19 and 21? :D

As I mentioned in my initial reply to the ask, I made a separate post for Esteban, since--as will surprise no one--I really rambled on A LOT about him. And it wasn't fair to shove all my EsteRamblings into the same, much shorter post with Gabe.

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

Honestly, pretty much everything about Esteban's character journey in S3 makes me absolutely INSANE (in the best way). But I think the thing that makes me most feral of all is the moment when he falls into the crystal well. His sparkly new outfit and stupid hairdo. The fact that the narrative has visibly and thematically linked him via this shared experience with Elena for the entire rest of the show. The symbolism of him being given the power to run away (literally and metaphorically) from the problems that he has caused. The fact that the show will ultimately end with him not running away but instead running towards something (Elena, specifically to save her from the problem Esteban himself caused). It's just... they did all this to me, an English major, and expected me to be normal about it. The audacity.

7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?

I like it when Esteban is *included* in things. While I wouldn't say he gets as much focus as the four amigos or Isabel, he still does get a good bit of art and a reasonable amount of fic. And its honestly nice to have a blorbo who isn't just shamelessly ignored (*cough Jean Innocent *cough) or vilified to the point of OOC-ness (*cough Kristoph Gavin cough*) , or used almost exclusively as a plot device to facilitate the fandom preferred ship of which they are not part of (both of the others).

18. How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

"Admire" is a weird way to put it as it makes it sound as though the dynamic is or should be aspirational/healthy. And I'm honestly having trouble coming up with one that fits that particularly description. I guess either Isabel or Francisco would be closest to meeting that description. But I don't really have too much to say about them right now.

So I am just going to go ahead and treat this question as "relationship that I find interesting and enjoy watching." And honestly, there is a LOT of them. Obviously his relationship with Elena is arguably the building block of the entire show and naturally, I love and cherish it with my entire heart. But I already ramble too much about it so I won't do so here.

I also find his history and complicated relationship with Victor fascinating. The two are clear foils of each other and very shippable ones too, and so my little English major brain/rare pair loving self gets a lot of mileage over the little that we see of them together. But we really only get a single episode of the two of them interacting. (Apart from a few moments in "The Magic Within" and Esteban being mentioned a few times in "The Lightning Warrior") so there's really only so much that I can say about them. And a lot of what I love about them is really just head canons/parts of my fic, so it could be totally ooc.)

Similarly, I think his dynamic with Dona Paloma is fun to watch and has a lot of interesting potential, but we really only scratch the surface of it. The narrative lets them be temporary allies or business rivals for the sake of a given episode's plot, but its rarely done in a way that adds something new or interesting to their relationship. (When Esteban + Paloma political shenanigans happen, its rarely used to advance either of their character developments and when it is, it's usually just Paloma's..as Esteban gets most of his development in other episodes).

So, I feel like I have to say that the most-interesting-and engaging Esteban relationship (apart from Elena) has to be Naomi. The two of them have a really interesting dynamic to watch and their relationship specifically (as opposed to just the two of them as individual characters) gets a good amount of direct focus. Whether Esteban is sniping at Naomi from across the Grand Council table, begrudgingly accepting her as a capable colleague by the end of "Finders Leapers," teaching her to waltz (in order to show up Paloma) in "My Fair Naomi" or clinging to her when Valentina's carriage goes out of control, the two of them don't just steal the scene but positively abscond with it in the most delightful way. Plus, I love the parallels of Naomi ending the show in Esteban's former position as Chancellor. (I like to headcanon that she's gonna end up seeking a lot of advice from him for her new role and may even recruit him as her number two. He has 41 years of valuable experience that it would be shame to waste).

19. How about a relationship they have in canon that you don't like?

This is hardly a surprising answer, but...I do not particularly care for his relationship with Luisa. Esteban was orphaned when he was 9 at most, so he barely remembers his mother. The closest thing to a mother that he does remember is the grandmother who raised him. He needed lots of love and validation and attention, and based on what we see in canon, Luisa didn't give him nearly enough. It took years for her to realize they'd left him out of her "favorite" family painting, the flashbacks in "Dias de las Madres" suggest that she was unaware of just how lonely and vulnerable baby!Esteban was even knowing that he had just lost his parents, she gives a pretty clear impression of Elena being her favorite grandchild ( even before Esteban's secret comes out) which I am sure did *wonders* on baby!Esteban's already fragile self-esteem, and in "Coronation Day," even after she knows that Esteban helped save the kingdom (including both her and Elena), she still side-eyes Elena when Elena says that she has forgiven Esteban. tfw you sacrifice your life for your cousin's (who is also your grandma's fave) and risk it again to banish the evil time spirit, but it's still not enough to earn a long-overdue hug from your granny.

21. If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?

Give him very specific and sexual Shuriki-related trauma. I mean to be fair, it's not that I enjoy it so much. It's just there in my head and it happens even when I try to make fluffy and silly little plot bunnies. I would say my favorite thing that I actually enjoy doing and make an effort to do is just aggressively validate him and his feelings since he doesn't really get much of that in canon. I like having characters tell him how much he means to them, and I like for them to genuinely mean it. I like to tell him that he is capable of being loved (romantically and/or platonically ) and has the right to be loved. I like for people to recognize that he has been through so damn much and is still living with the scars that the Dark Times have left on his mind, heart, and soul. I like for other characters to come out and tell him that he's important to them, that he's fundamentally a good and worthy person even if a flawed one who lost his way for awhile, I like having characters tells him that they enjoy his company. And perhaps, most of all, I like having characters (especially Elena. but also Victor, Naomi, and probably anyone else) feel protective of him. To have them promise to take care of him and make sure that he never has to feel alone, forgotten, unloved, or helpless ever again. So basically, my favorite thing to do is aggressively project onto him and give him all the sorts of things I would want for myself as wish-fulfillment.

My least favorite thing that I sometimes see done in fic is when past (or present) Shuriki/Esteban is genuinely romanticized (as opposed to treated as inherently abusive/dubiously consensual). When their feelings are assumed to be mutual, genuine, healthy (if admittedly unconventional/unexpected), and redemptive. Particularly when Esteban tries to "save" Shuriki from Elena and/or "redeem" her from her prison cell, because he loves Shuriki/knows that she isn't really "all bad." Because no, in my view, Shuriki is far beyond any hope of redemption, and no one in Avalor would know that more than Esteban, who was forced to stay by her side and serve her for 41 years.

Now, I do think it's possible that Esteban may have developed a little bit of Stockholm syndrome towards Shuriki, based on the length of time they worked closely together, how utterly dependent on her that he had to be just in order to survive, and how desperate he's always been for just a little bit of attention/affection. But again this wouldn't be real, genuine love. At most, it would be physical attraction, and a conditioned learned dependency on her as a survival mechanism. And given the huge power imbalance between them, there's also this inevitable question of any physical and/or emotional relationship being built on a foundation of dubious consent and sexual harassment (at best).

Given that Shuriki does seem shocked and genuinely hurt when Esteban finally stands up to her in "Secret of Avalor," I think it's also possible that she did grow to care for him as much as she could possibly care for anyone. But I also think that the closest to "love" that it's possible for her to feel is casual affection (similar to what one might feel for a favorite toy) or possessive lust.

And um... so no, I do not think Shuriki is capable of love and even if she was, I don't think it would be possible for her to be rehabilitated by/through love. And even if she was, Esteban is the absolute last person I would want to do said rehabilitation work.

Shuriki personally murdered multiple members of Esteban's family, conquered and terrorized his country, and then made him do all the work of managing Avalor while giving him none of the credit. He was a stupid teenager when they met (and from what we can tell, she seems to have been at least 5-10 years older than him...possibly a lot more if she'd already started magically de-aging herself), . As such, she easily manipulated him by preying on his youth, insecurity, and naivety. (Honestly, they give me BIG "Edmund Pevensie and Jadis the White Witch" energy. Baby!Esteban was a bit older and presumably *a bit* smarter than Edmund, but still very naive and very vulnerable and therefore very susceptible to the corruptive powers of someone significantly older, crueler, and more powerful than he. )

So, it makes me super sad and uncomfy to think about Esteban wanting to be and being responsible for personally saving the life/ soul of the person who has corrupted and controlled every aspect of his life since he was 17-18. He deserves better than that. Even if I still like giving him extra trauma and having him wrestle with it.

#elena of avalor #esteban flores #chancellor esteban #even if no one else got me; i know the crystal well of takaina got me #do i hear an amen to that?#so much enrichment for my literature major enclosure provided by such a silly little plot device #ah yes : the crystal well of soulmate coding; narrative foils; and symbolic deus ex machina #we've all seen it #anti-esteriki #well only anti in the way that its sometimes shipped; i do enjoy the really dark content #it makes for peak esteban woobification #i just want him to be peak sad pretty boy with his enormous and pretty 'sad boy' eyes

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slusheeduck · 7 months

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Fictober 2023 Day 22 - Prompt: "No, you'll never understand, ever." Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

The huffs and sounds of despair were just loud enough to draw attention as Falerin passed Astarion’s tent, and he paused to poke his head inside. There wasn’t much in there—full elves, he knew, didn’t sleep, and he was almost always next to the fire with him since their initial tryst. But there were a few odds and ends, including a table with a few bottles and combs and a chair currently harboring a thoroughly despondent-looking vampire, face in his hands.

“Astarion?” Falerin got a low groan in reply. He stepped fully inside, careful not to disturb anything, and went over to lightly touch Astarion’s shoulder. “Is…everything all right?”

“It’s that damn forge,” he muttered. “Why did we even go to the forge? For weapons? At what cost?” He lifted his head to look up at Falerin accusingly as he gestured to his hair. “And now I have to deal with this?”

The normally well-styled curls were unflatteringly askew, frizzing from the heat of the forge. Falerin’s mouth twitched.

“I mean…you can’t see it.”

“Yes, but I’m not stupid, Falerin. I know what a wreck they are, and even worse, I can feel it.” His head fell back into his hands. “I’d cut it all off if it wouldn’t just be back at sunset.”

Falerin gave an awkward rub to Astarion’s back, though he stopped as the vampire bristled. “I…well, look, I understand…”

“No, you won’t understand, ever,” Astarion interrupted peevishly. “You and your godsdamned stick-straight hair.”

Falerin rolled his eyes, and he looked over the table. “Well, maybe I can help. I can see what I’m doing, at least, you just need to walk me through it.”

Astarion peeked back at him, then sighed as he finally lifted his head, slouching in his seat. “Fine. You can’t make it any worse.” He picked up a couple bottles, setting them against the edge of the table, along with a wide-toothed wooden comb. “Purple bottle, comb, blue bottle. Just…tame it. It’s bad enough to look like a wreck, but when my hair gets like this, I just…it feels terrible around my neck.”

“Purple, comb, blue,” Falerin repeated, then took the purple bottle and opened it. Rosemary-scented oil greeted him, and he poured it into his palm, letting it warm a bit before he started to smooth it through Astarion’s hair. He’d never really gotten the chance to play with Astarion’s hair—for all the show he made of their relationship, he wasn’t much for a cuddle…or a hug…or…really, anything besides sex. So it felt strangely intimate as the curls wrapped around his fingers, slowly being tamed with each pass through.

Astarion stayed quiet, head tilted back. His face had shut off: eyes shut, mouth in a straight line. He wasn’t bristling like he did with so many of Falerin’s casual touches, but whether he was enjoying this or suffering through it was impossible to say.

The warlock pulled his hands back, rubbing the excess oil into his hands before he reached for the comb. Carefully, he pulled it through his hair, evenly dispensing the oil and doing his best not to tug too hard.

“Which way do you part it?” he asked quietly.

“Left.”

Falerin nodded, trying to imitate the seemingly-effortless toss of curls with careful comb-strokes. “It’s…not going to be perfect.”

Astarion let out a humorless little puff of a laugh. “Well, you’re the one who’ll have to suffer through seeing it.”

Falerin smiled. “Seeing you is never suffering for me. The opposite, actually. I’d still be just as glad to see you if you were bald.” His smile widened mischievously. “In fact, you did say you’d cut it all off if you could. I could get a knife and…”

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

Falerin laughed as he reached for the blue bottle. “I won’t, I won’t.” He poured a little of its contents into his hands, then once again smoothed it through Astarion’s hair. He lingered a bit this time, fingers combing through the curls and chancing some gentle scratches to the vampire’s scalp—this time, Astarion relaxed as he did. His eyes fluttered open, looking up at Falerin curiously.

“You really mean that, though?” he asked softly. “Being glad to just…see me?”

Falerin gave him a soft smile, and he leaned down to kiss Astarion’s forehead. “Of course. You’re more than just your looks you know.”

“Well, obviously. I’m a great lay, too.”

Falerin rolled his eyes with a smile. “You know what I mean.”

“Actually, I…” Astarion cut himself off, and he pulled his head away from Falerin’s hands, giving his hair a little shake before pushing his curls back into place. He turned around in his seat. “Well, it feels better. How does it look? Be honest, unless it looks terrible—in that case, lie profusely.”

Falerin laughed. “You look wonderful, like you always do.”

Astarion’s gaze flicked over him for a moment. His mouth quirked up. “You know, from you, I believe that.” His gaze lingered on Falerin’s face for just a moment, then he got up to his feet. “Well, now that all’s right with my hair—and, by extension, the world—I suppose we ought to rejoin society. Well, in as much as our camp counts as society. Come along, darling.”

Fictober 2023 Drabble Master Post

#fictober23 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #It's not a ship for me unless there's prolonged hair-playing #You can tell Fal's trying real hard to impress him because he didn't lick the hair oil #Tempted tho #Also this is before the blood drow lady and thus before the actual confession

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biggest-simp-eversposts · 9 months

Text

Made of Ivory and Gold

Lucio x Reader

1.2k words

Part 1 —> Part 2 —> Part 3

Summary: You let your insecurities get the best of you, causing problems in you and Lucio’s relationship… Or Lucio is stupid, but you are stupider.

AN: Heyyy pookie bears😚😚 I’m here with food for you🤭 specifically the Arcana fandom because we are literally dying but I still love it. Yes, I did write this because I redownloaded the game after two years of not playing it💀 hope y’all enjoy it🫡💖💖💖 (Also I didn’t realize Lucio was a Capricorn till after writing the first chapter (December-January) so I made the ball a New Year’s Eve ball but that would also that is probably around his birthday and he would have the masquerade😭😭😭 just don’t think about it)

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It had been 6 months since you and all your friends successfully bound the devil and stopped his evil from spreading. You and Lucio had been enjoying life to the fullest and adventuring full time ever since. As it was getting closer to the new year though, it seemed you and Lucio deserved a break from adventuring, a time to go home and visit all your friends. It so happened that Nadia was hosting a party to celebrate the new year, you knew Lucio could never pass up a party.

As soon as you two entered back onto the streets of Vesuvia you could feel the breeze change, the scent of pumpkin bread wafting through the air, a wide grin stretched across your face. You turned to Lucio who matched your expression.

“It's good to be home,” you whisper to him, leaning your forehead to his.

“It is indeed,” he grabs your hand tightly and interlocks your fingers. The two of you make your way through the streets you know well. Not much has changed since you two had left the city. Something that definitely hadn't changed was the stares, at Lucio of course. As you walked past shops and stalls people would turn and ogle at him, mouths slightly agape. How could they not, he was the (ex) count of Vesuvia, restored to his full glory after dying of the plague, plus he helped save the city. Sometimes they got to you though, you were always next to him, so it was inevitable that people would look at you as well. You wish you knew what they thought of you, as immature as it sounds. You didn’t think you were nearly as attractive as Lucio, as strong, as powerful, as confident, as charismatic, so what didn’t people think when they looked at you with him. Lucio speaks, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“We’re here” he says softly to you, noticing how distracted you seemed.

You both now stand outside Asra’s magic shop. You step inside and a familiar feeling washes over you, warmth and magic in one.

“Just a second,” Asra yells from the back of the shop. They rush to see who has entered the shop.

“Y/N, your home!” Asra brings you into a tight hug, you wrap your hands around their back and bury your face in his neck. “We missed you,” he mumbles into the hug. Before you can ask who “we” is, Faust shimmies her way from inside Asra’s scarf.

“Oh Faust, how I missed you!” you say as the snake slithers up your arm, releasing Arsa from your embrace. As you play with the little snake, Lucio and Asra make tense eye contact, nodding at each other. A silent deal to not cause problems for your sake. After you had chatted with Asra for a minute, a royal carriage pulled up in front of the shop.

“That’s us,” says Lucio, grabbing your things to put in the carriage. As he steps out, you and Asra share one last hug before waving goodbye and stepping out the door. You hop into the carriage with Lucio and make your way to the palace. You gaze wistfully out the window as the carriage takes you to the palace. Lucio could tell something was off about your mood since you had gotten there.

“Darling,” he puts his human hand on your shoulder. “Is something wrong?” you turn your face from the window and look at him.

“It's just a bit strange to be home after being gone for 4 months, that's all,” you have a soft smile on your face as you tell him. You turn your body and lay your head on this shoulder, closing your eyes. You feel him put this arm around you and lay his head against your own. He rubs his hand up and down your arm.

“So,” he lifts his head a bit. “Are you excited for the ball,” You could hear the excitement in this voice, but in all honesty, you could care less about the ball. Big functions like balls and parties were never really your thing, surprising you ended up with Mr. Party Animal.

“Mmm, I'm more excited to see Nadia,” Lucio scoffs at your answer.

“Noddy is great… but not better than a party,” you giggle at his reply.

“I bet she picked out great outfits for us though,” you say, Lucio hums.

“Her taste is not bad… not as good as mine though, right?” He shifts to look you in your eyes, you stare back at him.

“No one could beat your taste Lucio,” You lean in and give him a soft kiss on the lips. Before you can pull back though, Lucio grabs the front of your shirt and pulls you closer, deepening the kiss. He pulls back to where your lips still brush.

“You clever thing, I see what you did there,” he calls you out with a smirk.

“Whatever do you mean, my count,” you fain innocents, a devious smile takes over your face before Lucio pulls you back in for a feverish kiss. He pulls you closer and into his lap, his lips leave yours and trail along your jaw. But before anything else can happen, the carriage stops outside the palace and the door opens. You and Lucio get out, your face still hot from what had just conspired in the carriage.

Lucio and you are led up to Nadia’s private balcony. She greets you with a tight hug, and Lucio with a tight lipped smile and curt nod. She urged you to stay with her and have tea.

“So, how has the road been,” she asks, bringing her cup to her lips. You tell her what you have been up to, Lucio interrupts every other word to say how cool you two are. After an hour or so of catching up with Nadia, and learning about her developing relationship with Portia, she has to return to her work. You and Lucio find your way to the guest room the two of you will be living in for the next month. You walk in and flop face first onto the bed. You hear Lucio laughing behind you.

“Tired already, my gem?” Lucio sits next to you on the bed, you turn your head to look at him.

“As much as l love our adventures, 4 months of non-stop traveling makes me tired,” You grumble out, Lucio laughs again.

“I’m excited to relax as well, but not as excited as I am to party,” he says, standing up and walking over to the closet. Your eyes follow him. “It's been 6 months since I last went to a party, and we didn't even get to enjoy our time at the masquerade,” he opens the closet, inside hanging two outfits picked out for the both of you.

“I guess it is hard to have fun when the devil is trying to destroy the world,” you stand up and go over to the closet with him. You take out yours and Lucios outfits, laying them on the bed.

“Yours could use more gold… besides that, these are perfect!” Lucio says, clapping his hands together. Your outfit is a midnight blue floor length dress. It simmered like nothing you had seen before and had a mighty slit up the side. Lucios was a gold and white suit decked with gold gems, accompanied with a long gold cape.

“These are beautiful Lucio… I told you Nadia had good taste,” you say before leaning over and wrapping him in a hug. He retired the hug, resting his chin atop your head.

The ball was only 3 days away now, and you couldn't say you weren't nervous.

#the arcana #the arcana lucio #count lucio #lucio the arcana #lucio morgasson #lucio x apprentice #lucio x reader #lucio x mc

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rriavian · 3 months

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I don't like to think myself as shy reader, it's just as a reader sometimes I think my comments lack something others would be able to say easily....😅 most of the time I'm scared that what I said might just sound stupid to the creator... 😬

This is a very fair point! And something I also used to feel myself when leaving comments…just not knowing how best to phrase what I wanted to say, or how to translate my love for a fic into words. It can still sometimes take me a little while to wrangle my thoughts into a coherent comment.

I’ve seen some guides on structure going around tumblr that look pretty useful, so I might reblog them again/save them somewhere :)

But just to reassure you—as a writer I cherish every comment I get, because it’s the only way I know that someone enjoyed what I wrote. We are all only human—and even though it’s fun writing can take a lot of energy and time—and the encouragement really does inspire you to keep writing. There’s nothing quite like seeing a comment come through to my inbox! Kudos/bookmarks don’t really give the same buzz, or the same relief, that reading someone’s words and saying ‘oh thank goodness. They liked it’ does.

That connection with a reader is really precious to me, I suppose the equivalent of someone smiling at you, or giving you a big hug.

So there’s someone who has just discovered Baiting the Trap and I’ve been getting email notifications of their comments all day. The comments aren’t super long (they don’t have to be!) but this person has my whole heart <3 I have been smiling all day because of their words.

In a fandom that functions largely online—and which for a long time I participated in only as an anonymous writer—that connection means everything, makes me feel like part of a community. This was partly why I joined tumblr in the first place (sorry if this is a bit too personal!) because I was feeling very alone, and struggling to know if people even enjoyed what I was writing anymore.

Corintheus is very much a rare pair but in the beginning a lot of people were reading it, and when that changed I couldn’t help but feel like I had done something wrong.

Which is a little silly (and why I don’t really talk about it!) but that creeping doubt was very hard to get past for quite a long time. I really don’t mean to say this to make anyone feel bad, but it was my experience, and tumblr has been such a lifeline because it really helped me to feel connected to others in the fandom. Not only that, but peoples words/questions have inspired me to write some of my favourite prose :)

And when I logged onto tumblr just now and saw your happy valentines message...my heart felt so full it could burst! So I want to also let you know how much I appreciate you, and how happy I am every time I see your username in my notifications/on my dash.

I know from experience that figuring out how to phrase a comment can be really hard, and how one can worry that they sound silly to the creator. Especially on a fic you really love! You want it to be perfect. But the comments you leave are your words, the way you phrase things is your unique style, and that’s always perfect <3

#rria answers #this got a bit long!#valhargreeves <3 #you are wonderful

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raayllum · 9 months

Note

What do you think of tdp's rating potentially changing for s6? Personally I'm all for it because I'm on the younger side of the fandom (not a minor but I definitely was when I started the show) and it's nice that the show is growing with me, but I've heard complaints that the increasing darkness doesn't fit well with some of tdp's less mature aspects/humor. One of my favorite artists dropped the show because of it, which is a little disheartening since I thought s5 was absolutely amazing.

Honestly I thought S3 was pushing the lid on Y7 with some of the final ep violence / some elements of the Aaravos-Viren-dark magic body horror, so I think realistically S4 (because of the Ibis scene) and s5 (gestures to - half the season) should absolutely be rated PG. Y7 tv shows tend to get away with a lot more than G-rated films (at least since the mid 2000s I think) so I think that skews stuff as well.

As for the humour, even when it doesn't work for me (personally S1, S5, and S4 have had the best humour for me) it's almost all character based so I give it a pass. Like soo many people acted like the goofiness in S4 or fart jokes were baseless / a personal offense, but 1) Claudia's always had bathroom humour and while it's never been something I found funny, I appreciated it for its character consistency and that a girl gets the gross out humour at all bc we just don't see that a lot, and 2) teens and adolescents make bad jokes all the time. I make fart jokes all the time. I don't really want 'em in my media, but I do think they're funny, and I like that the characters in my media think they're funny because yeah... Bad puns, stupid jokes, being ridiculous with your friends, even or especially in times of crisis - sounds pretty grounded in realism to me.

I think part of the disconnect people have with humour (and less 'mature' humour, which - my favourite Shakespeare joke is the "do you bite your thumb at me sir" from Romeo and Juliet which shows my 'maturity' level when it comes to laughs, lmao) vs the rest of the show is... People outside of the age demographic being unwilling to accept that they're outside of the age demographic. Like drop TDP for any reason you want, of course, but

It's like - I didn't love the episodes in She-ra about "learning how to be a good friend," but I'd be dumb if I genuinely complained about it because this show is For Kids and it's catering to them first and foremost. It's not supposed to cater all parts of itself to my age demographic, nevermind my taste and no art does that, even stuff that is for my age demographic because it's an unrealistic choice to put on media. TDP is a little different since they've gone on record stating that its for Families, so that warrants something a little more 'mature' by proxy (and I very much think the show reflects that) but like - it's for families, and that means reflecting all those elements, too. Including humour (some for adults, some for tweens/teens/etc).

TLDR; emotionally scared because I love all the kiddos but very glad overall about the rating change, cause I'd rather people be warned ahead of time / be able to make informed choices about what they want to watch / consume.

#thanks for asking #anonymous #as always subjectivity is the root of preference

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sorroute · 6 months

Note

i literally just came across your blog, but i like speed-read through your stuff so far, and you sound so fun?? akdljhfkajshfdsj like genuinely. anyway! so, i’d like to ask to participate? i’m a young adult, female and NSFW are fine if you have any ideas ^^

(this is a warning that this might end up really long ;-;)

Gender: female

Pronouns: she/her

Male or female character: straight, so preferably male, but this is for fun, so if you think a female would fit better, go ahead! i really don't mind ^^

Which fandom: BSD

Personality: i guess i should start with the generic MBTI? i’m either an INTP or INFP, depending on my mood – i’ve also been mistaken for an extrovert plenty of times, so there’s that ;w;

when i’m meeting new people, i’m pretty friendly, and i make friends with mANY different types of people. i’m perfectly fine with the idea of talking with strangers on a day to day basis, so i’m fairly confident in that regard. i do get tired easily, tho, in a social settling.

i don’t tend to talk more when i make friends with someone? i make more jokes, sure, and i speak a little more freely, but, in general, i think i talk less when i’m around my friends. not because i feel like i can’t express my thoughts; i just prefer to listen, rather than talk. not to say we don’t have chaotic moments together, i’m just. yeah, a listener XD

i’ve been told that i’m very easy to open up to. i try my best to make whoever it is i’m talking to, comfortable and heard – and i do pride myself on being a nonjudgemental person – so it makes sense.

i’m pretty cheerful! i don’t get upset very easily, and i’m very easy-going. like, i don’t think i’v ever had a fight with friends. i’m very much the mediator, if i’m even involved in any drama (VERY rare). although, i’m a bit more subdued around my family, i’m also the same around them.

i’m VERY empathetic, but i don’t come across as that, because i’m not a very emotional person (usually a stereotype of empathetic people). i feel a lot, but i regulate them well and don’t express much. i worry a lot about other people, probably a little too much, actually, and, in that, i tend to ignore my own problems.

to deal with the stress, i take care of other people? like, i’ll cook dinner, send messages, send care packages, that sort of thing? my love language is CLEARLY acts of service and/or gift giving. i just prefer doing things for people, rather than people having do things for me; i feel very awkward about it (not that i don’t appreciate it!! i just don’t know what to do TwT). i’d love for physical affection to be one of my love languages, tho!! i’m working on it (•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑

i get stressed really easily, and i don’t cope with it very well. i don’t take it out on others, i just turn inwards, if that makes sense. i hate vulnerability, in myself, so i simply pretend like i’m perfectly fine (not to sound edgy lmao). i believe it, for the most part, tho i am trying to get better at being more open. i am a bit of an anxious person, i admit, and me and my friends joke about it, as all friends do ;w;

i’m creative and analytical! love making things, and love analysing media. tho, i am a bit critical of both my own and others work. i just have high standards, man. i am a bit of a thinker, as in, i contemplate the deep stuff, and i like discussing things like that, in moderate amounts ;w;

i like to think i have a good sense of humour XD i'm witty, and i make my friends laugh a lot, and catch acquaintances off-guard.

i’m also quite brave?? that sounds really weird to say, but i am. maybe it’s a bit of stupidity as well, but if someone needs help, i just? help them? like, even if that requires me scaling up scaling up a dodgy cliff or something.

i feel a bit dull as a person, actually, because i spend a lot of my energy trying to reflect the best of someone back at them, so i feel like i haven’t fully developed, if that makes sense. that’s something i’m working on, too hehe

anyway! now that i’ve spilled my guts in this, i will now apologise for it being so long!!

Any hobbies: creative writing, reading (both fiction and non-fiction), producing (music) and singing (choir heck y e a h – tho on a seriously note, i do really enjoy singing, and i’ve been told by people that i have a very sweet voice (i hold that very close to my heart akjldhfkjashdf)), learning languages (right now trying to increase my Japanese vocab and introducing myself to Korean :D), trying to learn how to dance because i SUCK, cooking (best compliment is being told i’m a great cook), i dabble in art a little, since i’ve always been drawn to art, i love a good day trip outside, anything from hiking to the beach!

Appearance: i’m 175cm and have a pretty slim build. tho, i’m getting back into exercising (after injuring myself and not being able to continue my sport :,) and now i’m too far behind in skill to do it ;-;) because i’ve lost a bit of muscle. i’m half-Japanese, half-Caucasian, so typical dark brown hair (pretty long, my dude), tho my eyes are quite a light brown (i frickin love my eyes you actually don’t understand). my style has gotten progressively more feminine as i get older, and i’m liking it. generally, either i have an art kid style or why are you wearing that that looks horrible. or some light dresses!

Aesthetic: soft or tough, no in between

Any problems you struggle with, whether it be mental or physical: probably have ADHD, but i don’t have the means to get it diagnosed ^^;

i literally wrote so much, and i know you said that the more the better, but!! adfjjsdhf if you did get to the end, thank you so much ;w; i hope you're having or had an amazing day!!

Aaaa hihi!! You seem so cool :3 It took me a while to find someone good to match you with and I was completely forgetting sigma existed .... I feel like you guys are made for eachother

Sigma

Your guy's first meeting was surprisingly not that awkward

At least for Sigma's standards

You guys struck up a conversation pretty easily, and he seemed really chill, but was incredibly anxious on the inside

He was so insecure

"oh my god what if she thinks I'm weird?? Did I say something wrong?? She's so pretty what do I do oh my god help" - His thoughts when you two first met

Although as you two continued talking, he definitely started to warm up a lot more

He was baffled at how kind you were compared to his first impression of you (terrified and anxious)

(He thought you were super intimidating because of how pretty you were and he got all flustered and froze up)

That was probably the most comfortable he's felt while talking to someone before though

Like he genuinely adores you

You're his safe space :3

Loves how cheerful you are, it always makes him feel less stressed out

Sometimes asks you to help mediate fights in the casino

When you start taking care of him and helping him he's so grateful

And confused

Why are you doing this for him? He doesn't deserve it

(he does)

Once he catches on though, he 100% tries to help you too

I mean, he was already trying to do that from the start, but now he's extra worried about you

I feel like you guys would be really similar with coping so when he feels stressed he likes to do stuff for you and when you're stressed you do stuff for him and usually when one of you is stressed the other is too so you guys kind of end up taking care of eachother

This relationship would definitely a good learning experience<3

Both of you struggle with vulnerability, just in different ways

He tries to help you to open up more, and he begins to feel more comfortable doing so as well

He likes your analytical side because it helps him think more rationally rather than a spur of the moment anxious decision he made last minute

Always goes to you for advice, but feels guilty in doing so because he feels like he's being a bother and he should be more independent :(

He's amazed and so touched at how far you'll go to help others

That's probably one of his favorite things about you :3

Although he loves everything about you

He listens to your music all the time, and asks if he can listen to some unreleased stuff because it makes him feel special

Like it was made just for him <333

HE WOULD ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT IF YOU EVER SANG HIM TO SLEEP

He would probably cry tbh

Happy tears

Loves your voice so much, it immediately calms him down whenever he's having an anxiety attack or is just feeling down or insecure

Definitely tries to learn Korean with you

I feel like he'd know Greek, so if you were ever open to the idea he would LOVE to teach you :3

You guys both suck at dancing it's okay

He thinks dancing is really romantic (depending on the type of dance) but is also super embarrassed to actually try to learn how to dance

His insecurities get the best of him

But if you ever asked, he would try to learn for you <3333 (/with you)

NSFW BELOW THE CUT

He's either a needy sub or a soft dom

When he doms he's so so so soft

Loves telling you everything he loves about you and how amazing you are

When he subs.... He's still so so so soft

Physically and emotionally

His hair feels like cotton candy

It's almost a guarantee that he will start to cry

LOVES being praised by you

But is too shy to ask :(

He feels like he doesn't deserve it

Be careful if you praise him too much though he might have a breakdown

He's loud, but tries to be quieter so he can hear your noises better <3

Because like I said, he adores your voice

Either way, dom or sub, he just wants to make you feel good and loved <333

A/N

TYSM FOR THE COMPLIMENT<3333 I kept coming back to your ask just to look at it because it made me so happy. Also you seem sosososo cool and amazing??? I know I said this at the beginning of the post but it's true :3 Also it's completely fine that it was long!! I loveloved reading about you!!! ໒꒰ྀི >ヮ<꒱ྀི১ Have a wonderful day/night anon, and I would love to hear any feedback or constructive criticism from you if you have any :3

#bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungou stray dogs #matchup event #bsd #bsd sigma #sigma x reader #sigma x you #bsd sigma x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader

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lilsocksiswriting · 2 years

Photo

Fandom: Jujitsu Kaisen

Paring: Sukuna X Fem!reader

Summary: Sukuna realizes that by dating you he may be creating a horny little monster and he's ok with that.

Warnings: NSFW, No Beta, minors DNI,

Tags: College/modern Au, more fluff, very suggestive themes

Word Count: 5k

Masterlist

Chapter 3 || Chapter 5

Author Note: I would have included the sex scene in this chapter but I’m feeling real slutty for a parallel with the first chapter.

You don’t wake up from your alarm blaring right next to your ear causing your heart to lurch in your chest. You simply wake up. There is not even that small moment where you feel like you’re about to cry like a baby because you want to go back to sleep. You feel refreshed, good, ready for the day and that stupid final exam.

You still don’t want to get out of bed. At least not yet. You want to enjoy this time laying in Sukuna’s bed before your thoughts catch up to you. Everything is so warm and comfy, and you slept so well. The kind where you wake up with sheet impressions, drool dried across your cheek and soaking into the pillow. Only you weren’t laying on a pillow.

You sit up abruptly, waking Sukuna up with a startled grunt. Sukuna hates when people disturb his sleep. But all his anger dissipates when he cracks his eyes and sees your face staring back down at him. Your face is red with embarrassment. Dried slobber glues a few stands of hair to your cheek. You look so cute like this.

“I’m sorry.”

His face falls. What did you have to be sorry for? What is for the past week? Couldn’t you just forget about that for a little while longer and enjoy a morning with him?

“I-I drooled all over your shoulder.”

Oh, was that it? Why do minuscule things like this make you sound so guilty? You did this same thing last night too when you left your tears soaked into his shirt.

“If it bothers you that much in can invest in something more waterproof to wear around you. Did you sleep as good as it looks?”

You nod, “Yea, it was the best sleep I’ve had in a while actually.”

Sukuna smiles triumphantly and folds his hands behind his head. “Good. Then you should be rested enough to tell me what the hell’s been going on with you.”

“You know a small part of me was holding out hope that you would have forgotten about that long enough for me to sneak out.”

“Ha, not a chance doll. In fact, I might not even let you leave this bed,” waking up to the warmth and weight of your body alone was enough to arouse him. He really did have it that bad for you.

“And how would you plan on doing that?” the banter came out easily.

The tattooed man just has to give you that stare and lick his lips to cause your cheeks to heat up.

“Would be ashamed if you had to miss that final of yours.”

‘Would it?’ because honestly losing yourself in these sheets with Sukuan didn’t sound as bad as it should.

“So come on, out with it.”

“I’ve…” though you weren’t tired, and you can actually think, this is still hard to put into words, “I really fucked up. I’ve been such a horrible person. A horrible, stupid person.”

“And how have you been so horrible and foolish?”

“I- oh god,” you have to look away from Sukuna. Choosing instead to focus on the scattered sketching paper atop his desk. “I had this really big stupid schoolgirl crush on you when I first started to hang out with Yuji. You know, like, the best friend's hot older brother kind of crush.

But then I started to get close to everyone and I was like ‘wow this is what having real friends feels like. Which, I know, sounds pretty lame. But just having formed like Yuji, and Nobara and Megumi made me realize that all the friends I had back home were so…surface level. They wouldn’t hold my hair back when I got sick. They didn’t care if I was overworking myself. They really just cared about reputational and how we looked out friend’s group looked to those outside of it. But that’s beside the point.

The point is that I was afraid of losing that. Of being all alone at this big new school. I was so afraid of losing these first real friendships that started to make up reasons why we wouldn’t be a good match. But then I had to start thinking about why we wouldn’t be good together. And I guess- no I know at some point all those reasons kept telling myself just started to sort of snowball until I was making all these assumptions about you being a bad person. But you were never one in the first place, ok wall not as bad of one as I made you out to be.

You had feelings for me this whole time I and I just fucked that all up with the way I acted and made assumptions.

I wanted to apologize for the way I always thought the worst of you even when you were trying to be a good person to me. But I was so stressed and tired, and I could barely think of anything beyond finals and work, and I wanted to give you a genuine apology. I want to give everyone a genuine apology for pushing them away. I just don’t know if I can find the right words. I mean would an apology even do anything. What if I already ruined everything e with everyone?”

You take in a shaky breath. Sukuna is relieved. This wasn’t something that was entirely his doing. He is still confused.

“Why did you say had?”

You look back to Sukuan mimicking his face of confusion, “When? I kind of just word vomited there. I’ve surprised that was all coherent.”

“You said I have feelings for you.”

“Oh,” you guess you did, and you are remained how much that realization hurt. “Uhm yea, I ruined my chance with you- “Sukuna’s bedroom walls blur for a moment, and you find yourself under an annoyed-looking Sukuna quickly laying back in bed with him.

Sukuna just stays there above you, hand on either side of you. Just glaring, saying nothing to help you figure out what was going on in his head.

“Um, Sukuna- “

“Shut up. I’m thinking.”

“Of?”

“I said shut up.”

You open your mouth to say something, but you really can’t think of anything besides the fact that Sukuan isn’t always angry or annoyed. He just has a resting bitch face, doesn’t he?

“I’m shit when it comes to bluntly say stuff like this. I’m not all for deep emotional talks and all that. I can see how I came off like the arrogant ass to you. And you were never full wrong in those assumptions as being arrogant and an occasional ass is my brand of charm. It still wasn’t ok for you to go making assumptions like that. I should have just come out and said that I liked you a long time ago instead of beating around the bush and hoping you’d get the message”

You blink up at Sukuna who continues to look down at you waiting for a response. But all you can think of to say at the moment is, “You still like me.”

Sukuna sighs and his eyes flutter close, “My god y/n seriously?”

“What? I- “

“Yes, I am fucking like you. I like so many things about you. I like how you can look like you’re about to take on the work and win. I like that I can be myself around Yuji and you aren’t intimidated by me. I Like that you call me out on shit and don’t back down until I apologize. I like your body. Fuck, your body is amazing. And when you dress business casual? Holy fuck y/n, that shit drives me crazy-

You slap a hand over Sukuna’s mouth before he can go on. “Ok ok! I get it now. I- I just wow. I- “a smile breaks out across your face and giddiness blooms in your chest.

Sukuna licks the palm of your hand, and you jerk it back. He’s smiling too. So, you did get to see that softness his face can take again after all. Your hands come to cup Sukuna's face, and he lets you pull him down closer to you.

“So does this mean….”

“Mean what?”

“Well since we both still have feelings does it mean, ya know,” you try again hoping he’d catch on

And Sukuan has caught on, he’s just Sukuna. “Oh, of course, we can doll, 12/10 dick right?”

“No- I mean that too, but does this mean that we can, ya know.”

“No, I don’t,” he says then drops his voice to that sinful tone. “You got to use your words doll.”

It’s too early for him to sound that hot and make you feel this turned on. But it works he wins. “Does this mean we can date?”

“I thought that was obvious.”

“So, is that a yes then?”

“Yes,” Sukuan rolls his eye but closes the tiny distance between you two. Between the small kisses, Sukuan confirms,” We’re dating. You’re my girlfriend. I’m your boyfriend. We’re lovers now. In a relationship. Together. Spoken for.”

You don’t let him pull away that time. Your hands slide up, combing your fingers through his short pink locks. All it takes is a nibble on your bottom lip to deepen the kiss. You two stay like this, engrossed in each other until you need a deep breath.

You turn your face away from Sukuan apologizing as you catch your breath,” Sorry, I probably have morning breath.”

“Rancid.”

“Shut up.”

“We should get up anyway. You need to get ready.

Sukuna rolls off you so that you can get out of bed and go about your daily routine of getting ready. Since you’re final was just a written exam you don’t need to dress up which is good because you don’t have any clean clothes. In fact, after going through your morning skincare routine and brushing your teeth you decide to just stay in leggings and Sukuna’s hoodie.

Downstairs in the kitchen, Yuji’s grandfather is at the stove fishing up a pan of bacon. At the table, Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi excitedly wait for everything to be finished up. When everyone looks at you, you’re suddenly at a loss for words. Or more specifically there are so many words swirling in your head that you don’t know where to start.

So, your left with your mouth gapingly like a fish out of water. You’ve ever apologized to friends before. You never had friends to apologize to before. Anything before the three were fake. fake smiles, fake happiness. This was real. This is something you don’t want to lose. So, an apology might be a good place to start.

“I’m sorry. I-I shouldn’t have, um shut everyone out like I have.”

“And?” Sukuna’s voice behind you makes you jump.

“Um, I-I’ve just never had friends like your guys, and I didn’t know how to do this, apologize that is. I still don’t think I’m doing right, like saying sorry isn’t enough. But here I am trying,”

“And?” Sukuna urger’s again and you rack your brain for more words to grab onto.

“I promise to not do it again. If I’m having a hard time, I’ll talk to someone.”

“And?”

“I just really don’t want to lose you guys as friends, you’re like the first real friend I’ve had. Sad sounding but true.”

“And?”

And? and what else. What was she missing? What else was there to tell?

“Um, me and Sukuna are dating now.”

“And?”

“I hope he doesn’t make things awkward.”

And?” Sukuna's tone is amused, and you don’t pick up on it because you’re still stuck on thinking that you’re missing something.

“We’ll um, we’ll work out system. Like a sock on the doorknob or something so that no one walks – “

“Nope, don’t even go there,” their grandfather cuts in pointing the spatula over your shoulder. “And you, stop torturing the poor girl. She’s said enough.”

“Gramps is right. Sorry was enough.” Yuji adds.

“I just wanted to see how long she’d go on for.”

You turn your head to glare over your shoulder, “you are an ass.”

“And you’re very attracted to it,” He retorts stealing a quick kiss and then heading on into the kitchen.

You do your best to suppress a mile and follow suit. You feel lighter. Happier than you’ve been all week. Everything has come to a head and passed. This is what has come after, and it is nice. You had thought of the worst-case scenario, but never the best-case scenario. You and Sukuan have taken a seat at the table.

“So, who confessed?” Nobara asks

“Um, you,” you point at Sukuna who laughs.

“Not a chance. You the one would have to ask multiple times to make sure we were dating.”

“But you did confess to me first.”

“Nope. You did.”

“I did?”

“You probably didn’t nice it because you were just rambling on and on.”

“I- “you cut yourself off and slump your shoulders because yea that sounds like something you would do.

“I win,” Megumi pipes up.

“Oh?”, you curiously ask,” what’d you guys bet on?”

Sukuna didn’t share in your amused curiosity,” You three dweebs bet of us?”

“We bet on who would confess the feelings first,” Nobara corrected and went on to explain,” Megumi was the only one who bet on y/n I bet you would, and Yuji bet that neither of you would nor we would continue to a bear witness to the great pinning.”

“I was not pining.”

Their grandfather comes over from the stove to place down the plate of bacon with the rest of the food he’s cooked.

“Oh yes you were and even I was getting fed up with it,” He gripes while taking a seat on the other side of Sukuna.

“I wouldn’t call it pining…” Sukuna’s continued protest now seemed more like pouting that no one paid any mind to being too busy filling their plates.

“So, what finals you kids got left?”

“I’m the only one with a final today, right?”

The three other students nod in agreement with their plates now full.

Wasuke grits his teeth then snaps at the three,” Then why the hell did I cook breakfast for you three if you ain’t even got finals anymore?”

“Reward?” Yuji offers.

“I thought you said last night you were going to make breakfast because you didn’t trust me to make it.”

“Certainly not after that little comment you made last night,” There is a pointed tone on Wasuke’s scolding.

Sukuna, being as arrogant as he is, leans back on his chair and swings an arm across the back of your chair. You realize too late that he was seizing this as another opportunity to make your face beat red. “Who am I to judge my girlfriend's taste? If she likes a little something extra on her eggs, why am I to deny her that? “He cuts her eye to you. “Especially when I have so much of it.”

Megumi scrunches his face up. “Do we even- “

“ANWAY!” you nearly screech. “My final. It’s with professor Ully.”

“Ully, that old geezer?”

Yuji scoffs trying to stifle his laugh. “I don’t think you much younger than him gramps.”

“At least I know how to use the godman Blackboard.”

“Amen to that.” You raise a glass of orange juice Sukuna had poured for you. “He’s the one that doesn’t everything on paper remember.”

Nobara hums putting the pieces together,” Oh gross, and isn’t your final, like an essay questions test?”

“Exactly.”

Breakfast goes on like this, light conversation and complaining about the semester’s professors with Wasuke throwing in a bit of gossip here and there with that gripey tone of his that almost made it seem like he was uninterested in the whole thing.

When breakfast finished Waskue hades upstairs to pack for his end-of-the-year fishing trip. With the five of you on clean-up, it only takes a few minutes. You and Sukuna take up washing and drying the dishes.

“So, the strip tonight?” he asks.

The strip was one street a few blocks from campus that was just bars. You and the gang plus Sukuna would always go bar hopping to celebrate the end of another semester. You have some fond memoirs of stumbling home, laughing, and drunkenly trying to order from whatever fast-food place was nearby. Sukuna would have left you four longs before then with his arm wrapped around someone’s waist and his hand lips against their ear. You don’t tell him how would take a shot of something strong to burn away the pang of jealously. You wanted to be the one he wraps up his arms. The one who he was probably whispering sweet and lewd little nothings to.

And now you were.

“This will be the first time going out with a partner. Do you think you can behave yourself? Will it be too jarring for you?”

“You trying to tease me doll but you’re failing so bad l. I’m just wondering if you’ll leave early with me or am I going to have to take your drunk ass to get Taco Bell.”

“Leave early?”

He nods tossing a glance over his shoulder before dropping his voice so that only you would hear him. “I get wanting to celebrate, but I want to take you home tonight and make love to you.”

A little noise gets alighting the break of your thought.

“What?”

“Didn’t expect you to ever use the phrase ‘make love to you,” you admit handing him another plate to dry.

“I think it’s a nice way to encompass all the things I wanna do to you.”

“And what sort of things do you wanna do to me.”

Sukuna smirks and explains “I would offer to take you up to my room and show you, but I’d hate for you to miss your final. But if you must know I want to fuck you the way I wanted to fuck you that night.”

“Oh,” is all you can say because your head gets a little fuzzy at the thought of it.

“That’s all?”, his face falters

“No. Just- my mind went a little blank at the thought of mushy gushy romantic sex with you.”

And the arrogant smirk is back.” Oh, I’ll make you so gushy you won’t be nothing but a puddle who can’t even think.”

“OK!” Yuji slaps his hand on the counter he was just wiping down, “If this is gnat to work, we need a ground rule here. No dirty talking or anything dirty of the sort while in our presence got it.”

You’re unable to hold back a snort of laughter and hold up your soapy gloves. “We’ll be sure they stay three whole bibles lengths apart.” even going so far as to take a step away from the tattooed man.

“As far as you’re concerned little brother, we abstinence. No kissing until marriage.”

You two break that vow right before you head out for your final. Sukuna wraps his arm around your waist and spins you around to give you another quick peck on the lips. You can’t stop the giddy giggles on the way out. It just feels so nice to finally be able to not hide your feeling or deny you have them anymore

“You know we are happy for you.” Nobara notes as the for of you walk to campus. “But can we please keep the verbal fucking down to a minimum?”

“Thanks, and I promise I will try my best. I can’t say the same for Sukuna. Now, what are we wearing tonight?”

Your final went just how you thought it would. Quick but painful. Your hand is cramping so bad as you make your way back to your dorm. Your roommate is still at her final, singing her lungs out in a place that isn’t the dorm. Something you are extremely thankful for

You spend the rest of the day clearing up the disaster left behind by the week and lounging around in bed still in Sukuna’s hoodie. You smile goofily to yourself because that was another plus to dating Sukuna now; you don’t have to buy warmer clothes. It would be a con for Sukuna since he was about to have a lot of lees holies and crew necks.

When it gets dark you get ready for the night and head over to Nobars’s dorm to help her get ready. The boys meet you at the edge of campus. In the semesters before Sukuna would have simply given you a smirk and some sort of teasing remark. He still doesn’t that, only with the added part of tucking you to his side and keeping you warm on the walk over.

Something else is different though. It’s not something wrong. At least you don’t think it is despite the uneasiness churning in the pit of your stomach. It’s not something that everyone else seems to notice either so maybe it's just you. But what is it? What was making you feel so nervous?

“Doll?” Sukuna finally asks while in lone for the I.D check after you’ve been quiet the whole way to their first bar.

“Hm?” you look up.

“You just seem to be in your head.”

“Oh, I’m fine- “you stop as you look continues to look into Sukuna’s face, it has the same hits of concern from last night. You suddenly remember what caused that concern and how you might be doing it again. “I um, well…I think I’m nervous. I’m just not very sure why?”

Sukuna watches you gnaw on your bottom lip. He can practically see your mind working overtime to try and figure it out. He knows that it’s a lot more than just some nerves, but at least you not trying to hide that something’s bothering you. The line moves up and Yuji gets his I. D checked. It’s too late to ask you to elaborate on it but Sukuan doesn’t forget it.

Once Megumi comes back with the first round of drinks you almost feel like you were never nervous, to begin with. Everything settles into normal. The only difference is that you are setting tucked into Sukuna’s side with his arm around your shoulders. You want to enjoy this but there is just this thing in the back of your mind that you can’t hide tiny that makes you feel uneasy. It bothers you.

After drinks, the three go off to the dance floor while you and Sukuan sat behind to watch them. You would usually go with the three, but Sukuna’s firm arm keeps you in place.

With the trio gone leaving the quiet booth to yourselves so he can finally ask you, “So nervous?”

You slump a little and take to sliding your index finger around the rim of your empty glass. “I should just stop holding out hope you’d forget this kind of stuff huh?”

“It’d be a lot easier if ya would. And to stop to avoid talking about it too. We know what happen last time. Don’t get me wrong the head was great, but I’d rather have you suck me off without all the drama.”

“How do you just do that? Say naughty stuff like that?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“I don’t know why I’m nervous,” You admit quickly like it was a shameful thing that you don’t know how your own mind works.

Sukuna glances from you to the trio of idiots currently jumping around on the dance floor and screeching out the lyrics to the song blaring on the speaker. He was stalling for time. Making sure that what he said next wouldn't be too vague. You were the only one trying to change after last night,

“I think you think too hard about stuff.”

“Was that supposed to be reassuring?”

“Yes? I hoped it would at least. Do you have any idea of what's making you nervous?”

“That’s the thing. I can’t. I don’t want to be anywhere else but here with everyone. Like I’m excited and happy to be celebrating and to leave with you to have some awesome sex. But I’m still just nervous. And I can’t figure out why.”

“Have you ever felt nervous like this before?”

“I don’t think so. But I am all honestly…. but in all honestly these nudes feel kind of new to me,”

And there it was. Sukuna bites the inside of his cheek bit doesn’t work. He still laughs. It’s cute and funny and he just can’t help it. The glare you look at him with is even funnier because you really can’t see it.

“Y/n do you think you are nervous because this is new to you?”

“What do you mean? I’ve been out to a bar,” you point an accusing finger at him, “With you before.”

“Yes, you have. But we’re together now. You don’t have to shoot me dirty looks because you're the one who gets to take me home. Because we’re out at a bar as a couple. “

“I was never jealous.”

“Never said you were a doll.”

“I hate you.”

“Haven’t you always?”

You only stick your tongue in reply. Sukuna presses the back of his thump into the underside of your jaw making you crane your neck so he can lean down for a kiss.

When he pulls away, he warns in a tone that almost makes you think he’s daring you instead, “Now, now, don’t be a brat tonight, I wanna so easy on you tonight.”

“Is it really that simple?” you ask in disbelief.

A coy chuckle makes your stomach flip, “Let’s not find out yea?”

You let out a small huff leaning your head on his shoulder. “No dumbass that that’s the way it is. Am I really nervous because this is just something new to me?”

“I dunno, you tell me.”

“…. I’ve never done this before.”

“What did I say about using your words doll?”

You huff,” I am. I’m trying. I’ve never been out with someone like this. My dates have been pretty vanilla. Like nice dinner and a movie ya know. Like I said: surface level. They didn’t me feel like this. All giddy and stuff. “

“That sounds kind of sad. But also, is more proof to my theory that I am the only man to have ever made you cum.

“You don’t have to remind me,” you tell him. “I just don’t know what we’re supposed to do ok. God, I sound so freaking clueless right now.”

“What do you want to do?” Sukuna’s serious tone catches you off guard

You to sit straight so you can look at him. “What do you mean?”

“You’re here tonight to celebrate another semester and I’m not here to put a damper on that.”

“But there's got to me like boundaries something?”

“Wow, doll what naughty things are you thinking about.”

You feel your face flush with heat. You weren’t thinking of anything of the sort. You just couldn’t get acclimated to the idea of that much freedom. You had grown up around rules and structures that extend to all parts of your life, including dating. To suddenly not have nothing to dictate how you behave and tell when what to do- well it was scary, but it also made you feel drunk and giddy with the power.

“Whatever I want?” you ask, mind getting lost in the sea of possibilities now before you.

Sukuna swallows at the sudden change in your voice. At times like this, he wonders if you are aware of how seductive you can be. Your lips are parted slightly and look so inviting. Your eyes are full of so much desire and Sukuan wants to give it all to you. Whatever you want. Whatever you desire.

“Yes, “he answers trying to sound somewhat like he’s not getting lost himself, “I’m not here to tell you what you can and can’t do y/n,”

“Oh?” fuck that coy smile goes straight to his heart. Your eyes cut back to the dance floor. Absent of the trio who went off to get another round of drinks.

When you return your attention back to Sukuna, he can tell you challenge him. Testing these new waters. “What if I wanted to take someone home with us?”

Fuck, you were so God damn perfect.

“Oh, you want a toy to play with?” he refuses to look away from you. He probably couldn’t even if he tried to excite to be hearing this side of you. “Why even wait? You could have any one of these people following you into the bathroom like a lost puppy. We could have them between us within the hour doll. Or would you rather me watch as you make them come under your touch? Or are you the type to like an audience while I fuck you?”

You open your mouth to say something but quickly close it and grow beat red. You’re the first to break and it causes a smug sense of satisfaction to swell in Sukuna’s chest.

“Ok, yea. It’s going to take some work to get used to that. Don’t think my confidence is quite there yet. Seriously how do you do it?”

“A threesome not your thing?”, he teases.

But then you look back out the dance floor and bit your lip. It makes Sukuan get the sense that he’s watching the beginnings of a monster being made.

“Another conversation for another day.”

“Are you blushing,” Yuji asks coming back to the table followed by Megumi and Nobara.

You cup your cheeks. They were warm but Yuji shakes his head and points a finger at his brother. “I mean you.”

“No.” Sukuna answerers with that a pointed glare that told his brother to shut up. But you can see now too.

“I made you blush!”

“Don’t let it go to your head doll.”

“Too late”

After another round of drinks, you want to join the dancing this time. Sukuna lets you pull him to the dance floor with everyone else and with the thumbing base so loud you must pull Sukuna down so your lips are pressed into his ear.

“I can’t wait to go home with you tonight!”

Sukuna's chest thrums as a large smile plasters itself across his face. You can’t hear what he says but the way he pulls your hips into his and smothers his face into your neck tells you he is very happy to hear that.

#sukuna #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna #jjk imagines #jjk #privet stacks

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