#the master is dead and in a little chest

[sttoru]

your boyfriend sleeps on the couch after an argument you both had earlier that day. after calming your nerves and taking time for yourself, you realise that you might have been a bit too harsh on him.

☀︎｜tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff / angst / hurt + comfort. age gap (reader early 20’s & satoru early 30’s). nicknames used; ‘(little) baby’. he’s honestly just the perfect combination of gentle and teasing. subtle mentions of size difference.

satoru shifts on the couch whilst letting out an inaudible yawn. he was tired after an entire day at work and finally had the chance to settle down in the comfort of his apartment.

though, he couldn’t really relax just yet. the reason why being the undeniable tension hanging in the air. he was in fact home, but it didn’t feel like it. not when you were missing.

you had holed yourself up in the master bedroom after an earlier argument the two of you had. it wasn’t a big fight — just a little squabble between lovers. satoru didn’t rush after you when you had decided to walk away midst argument. you clearly weren’t in the right headspace to properly articulate nor communicate your feelings.

he figured that you just needed some time alone and thus decided to leave you be. he didn’t want to risk losing you by annoying you any further.

satoru scrolls on his phone out of boredom. the light radiating off the screen starts to bother his already sensitive eyes. with a sigh, he shuts off the device and puts it down on the coffee table.

it was dead silent in the apartment that was usually filled with your lively chatter. the sorcerer wants nothing more than to cuddle up with you under the covers and fall asleep. but, you needed space and he wasn’t going to disturb you.

he drapes an arm over his eyes and pulls the thin blanket over his chest. his breaths were steady and his thoughts were surprisingly calm. satoru almost drifts off to sleep, however his body lightly jolts awake once he hears the creaking of a door.

careful footsteps echo throughout the hallway and stop right at the doorstep of the living room.

satoru moves his arm to the side so his vision wouldn’t be obstructed. his eyes land on the figure standing at the doorframe — one he could recognise instantly.

it was you, standing there with your head held low and your fingers curled around the hem of your nightgown. you didn’t take another step forwards and just lingered in your spot for a few seconds without saying anything.

“hey, baby.” satoru breaks the silence. his voice was as soft as it could be, not an ounce of annoyance or frustration in it. even if he had all the reason to be upset according to you.

you remember just how childish you acted earlier; you had lost all rationality, shouted at your boyfriend out of frustration and ran off mid sentence instead of properly addressing the issue at hand. the way you handled that situation was wrong and immature.

in contrast to your immature behaviour, satoru had stayed calm and collected throughout the entirety of your argument. he hadn’t raised his voice at you even once nor did he blame you for anything. you felt bad for acting like a bratty kid who didn’t get her way.

you eventually move towards the couch, still not making eye contact with your boyfriend. he sits up and simply watches you with a raised eyebrow—curious as to what you were about to do.

you knew you had to apologise for your behaviour, but what you needed first was his validation. you wordlessly climb onto the couch and under the blanket satoru was using.

your arms wrap around his torso and you hug him tightly to your body, face buried in his shirt to cover your embarrassed and remorseful expression.

satoru’s eyes widen a bit at the sudden show of affection, though he wasn’t complaining. he reciprocates the gesture and nuzzles his cheek against the top of your head.

“my little baby.” he chuckles, hands rubbing your back in attempt to reassure you that everything was and will be fine, “i’m happy you decided to come back to me — thank you.”

again. that tender tone satoru uses only with you and for you. the guilt from earlier hits you like a truck and your eyes well up with tears before you could stop the process.

“sorry,” your voice cracks once you finally muster out an apology. the warmth engulfing your cold body was enough to make you sob in his comforting embrace. satoru sighs and closes his eyes. he rests his chin on top of your head whilst holding you like his life depended on it.

no words were exchanged between you two for a good minute. satoru silently encourages you to cry it out and so you do. after calming down, you sniffle and pull your head away from his chest. your eyes were watery and a bit red.

the pad of his thumb sweeps the stray tears away from your cheeks, his touch precise and careful. he smiles softly at the sight of his teary-eyed girlfriend. you were so adorable and precious to him. even when you looked like a mess — a pretty mess.

“i just..” you start off, small hiccups interrupting your sentence, “i wanted to apologise for acting so childish. i shouldn’t have said nor did any of those hurtful things. i apologise for that as well.”

your lover nods along to your words. he hums in delight and kisses your forehead, his lips lingering there for longer than intended, “don’t worry, baby. i understand. thank you for apologising, though.”

you mutter a small ‘of course’ in-between sniffles. that was all the reassurance you had needed to hear from your boyfriend. though, you still felt bad and the guilt of your immature actions seemed to linger in the back of your mind.

you lay your head back on satoru’s chest and listen to his heartbeat — hoping that the constant sound would drown out any other thoughts. your lover lays on his back and pulls you down on top of him. his hands rub your sides, slender fingers toying with the silky material of your nightgown.

“i’m sorry for being immature sometimes. i’m sure it must be troubling to deal with.” you whisper as you enjoy the feeling of being back in satoru’s arms.

he grins and shakes his head in response. he loves every side of yours — even your immature one. if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be here right now. he truly loves all of you.

the older man places another soft kiss on top of your head and closes his eyes afterwards, “heh, i’d be lying if i said that you trying to act all tough earlier wasn’t cute.”

satoru snickers at the memory. he remembers how you pointed that little finger of yours in front of his face and how you tried to subtly stand on the tips of your toes so you could look him in the eyes properly. your attempts at looking intimidating were quite endearing.

it’s not like he was invalidating your feelings with that comment — he was genuinely trying to lighten your mood. and it wasn’t like it didn’t work.

“whatever.” you huff, playfully swatting his biceps and gaining an over exaggerated ‘ow!’ in response. you’re glad that things have gone back to normal between you two. if the situation had continued for any longer, you’d have lost your mind.

you aren’t the only one who is extremely relieved. satoru is beaming with joy because he gets to hold and talk to you again. that small period of silence between the both of you felt like an eternity to him.

no matter how many times you have those little arguments, satoru will still love you all the same.

[ridingthatd]

₊˚‧₊˚. SUKUNAS DESIRES

₊˚‧₊˚. sukunaxfem!reader, nsfw, heavy smut, sukunas little whore, sukuna being nasty, its really nasty

who thought you'll be stuck, in a snow storm, no where to go other then a obendent cabin that can barely keep you warm, freezing to death with your master- the master you despise the most, the one who you can't even look at without have an urge to punch the shit out of him, it's not like he was annoying or talkative-

it's just he was bossy- bossy without even trying to be, for some reason everyone seem to follow what he says without a second thought. at the same time you can't blame them after all he's the one and only- the king of curses, the man who lived for hundred, and thousands of years. it annoys you that no one can do anything to stop him or even as much as think about stopping him because this is how much fear he holds against everyone, he took over your little village, shredded everyone into pieces just because. shredded your soon to be husband just because.

yet here you are sitting on the cold wooden floor, bones shaking, just because your stupid ass decided to go out look for a special kind of plant- so you can make money, since you're barely surviving with the amount you have right now, but that isn't what bothers you- what bothers you is sukuna who decided to follow you just because.

who decided to lead you into a cabin since he can sense a storm coming just because. you take a glance at the man who's sitting at the opposite side of you, legs and four of his arms folded, eyes closed, you glare a him, why is he even here.

"quit glaring at me little human" sukuna growls out, clearly not happy about the way you're staring at him. he open all of his eyes to stare at your shakey figure and he frowns.

"do all human get this cold easily?" he says horsely his voice is harsh- maybe it's because you rarely hear him talk, all he needs to do is glance at anyone and this would do the talk for him. you stop yourself from rolling your eyes, he's probably here to watch you freeze to death, finding it entertaining to watch you die. but his next words had you widening your eyes that they might fall out.

"or is it just my delicate little flower?" sukuna causally speaks out, as if those words are not surprising- like he's used to saying it. he raises his eye brows at your shocked expression clearly not catching on what's so amusing.

he lazily trail his eyes up-down your trembling body, before his four arms open, he uses two of his arms to slowly un handle his kimono rob, and let it fall losely around his hips- only exposing his upper half.

you stare at him dumfounded, but horrified at the same from how big his body is- he had huge board shoulders, muscles ripping every part of him, you can't help but stare at his perky pinkish-red nipples, slowly trailing your eyes down to his hairless body, you were used to man having chest hair- but he did have a hair trail connecting his belly button down to the v line of his lower body.

sukuna keep his four arms open toward you as he huskly speak out-

"get over here foolish little human" this is why his arms were spread out, inviting you to his shirtless warm embrace.

"are you going to get your pretty ass here human or do you wish to freeze to death?" he tsk at you, clearly not happy about you making him wait- the gears in your brain turn around and you think about the situation you're in- you were few minutes away from becoming a frozen dead body so you clearly had no other option then to take the king of curses offer.

you slowly crawl your way to him, on all fours to cold to stand up- but what you didn't realize is that, it brought pleasure to sukunas brain, his two cocks spring out proudly, he peers down at you, looking so submissive crawling on all fours to get to him, your full round ass peeking out, swaying as you make your way toward him.

once you get close enough, sukuna stretch his two arms to reach you and place you directly on his erection- but you were to innocent to know what they were- while the other two arms tug you into his chest, just to envelope you in his kimono and tie his rob again.

you sit here to stif not knowing what to do because your whole body was pressed against his warm one, you can feel his perky nipples brush against your own, which make them intentionally harden to.

sukuna is enjoying this so much- so much that his cocks throb, twitch, leak, he couldn't help the purring that left his chest. you clearly feel him purring because your face is completely pressed against his neck, to your surprise it doesn't scare you- to your surprise it does nothing but relax you.

the blowing wind hitting against the windows of the cabin, the warmth of sukunas chest and the two warm things throbbing and twitching behind your thighs, seem to make you lose focus, slowly drifting into drowsiness, can't help but snuggle your face deeper into his neck- taking a deep breath of his smell, you can't help it when you take a glance at his perky nipples they looked so suckable so you leaned in sucking gently on one of them,- to your surprise it only makes sukuna growl and purr louder, so you back off staring at the string of spit you left and you give your attention to his other nipple.

you can feel two of sukunas hands gently stroking your hair, and down your spine, while the other two make their way toward your huge thighs, and plumpy perky ass, you let out a small whine once you feel sukuna grip your ass hard.

"shhh my little human, let your master keep you warm" he coo at you his other two arms still gently petting you, you intentionally move your ass toward his ragging cocks, and sukuna growls gently take your ear between his teeth, biting and sucking on it.

you didn't know why but you felt wet, and tingly down there, so bothered like you wanted some relief, so you start rubbing your thighs together for some fraction-

"feeling needy my little pet? is your sweet little cunt feeling empty?" he whispers darkly in your ear, you suddenly feel one of the warm things that was twitching on your thighs, brush against your tingly wet cunt- you whimper it felt so good that out of relfex you started rubbing on it, liking the feeling of how it was throbbing on your cunt.

sukuna let out a groan as his other cock start rubbing on your ass, while the other was being dry humped by your wet pussy, he can smell your strong arousal and it was driving him crazy- he was drunk on it as his hands trail up your kimono and find your drenched panties.

"i- i need to pee master" you embarrassingly mutter out, not being able to continue the feeling, not wanting to pee on the king of curses.

sukuna chuckles at how innocent you were, of curse at such lowly village they didn't teach woman about sex, they only teached the most important part about it, but they didn't tell you about orgasms, or about how good it felt.

he harshly rips your kimono open and throw it somewhere, leaving you only with your panties on, he stares at your nipples hungrily wanting to feel the hard bud against his tongue so he does, he takes one fat nipples into his mouth while his other hand knead at your other nipple.

you still and moan out, eyes rolling at the new sensation, thighs shaking, arching your chest against his face.

sukuna moans as he feels your wet juice drip down to his clothed cock. "aha you dirty little human, did you cum just from getting your nipples sucked? did you cum on your masters cock?".

you were to out of it, to even make out what he said, but sukuna didn't care as he tug his two throbbing, leaking cock out, stroaking them both together, groaning and growling at the sight of you so fucked out.

"Will you let me give the curses a queen, then?" Slowly, maddeningly slowly, he began to prod that cockhead into your folds.

an animalistic growl left the king of curses clearly getting off at the idea, he can spill his seeds in you, from the idea of having you as his, his queen. "sit on your throne, my queen."

and with that, sukuna forcefully impaled you on both his cocks so hard that you blacked out.

you startled awake, feeling intense pain and pleasure, feeling so stuffed that you can't breath- then you snap out whimpering and whinning, as you look around eyes half opened you can see, sukunas face- but he looked more animalistic then he did before, growling and groaning as he lean in to suck on your bouncing boobs. wet clapping noises filled the cabin, as sukuna tug you up and down his cock, filling you with not one cock- but both of them at the same time.

he can't help but roll his eyes from pleasure, as he takes a glance at your stretched out cunt, so red, so puffy, so tight, gripping so hard into his cocks as he plug them in.

"look at you! look at you taking my cock- no both of them, my beautiful fuck toy, created for the purpose of pleasing me!”"he growls out, the only sounds were his groans that were drowned by the sound of his cock being clenched tightly around your cunt, by your juice spilling out and coating his cocks, while his balls smacked on your asshole. 

“my queen's job is to obey me and to give me heirs… so when your king says cum for him, my queen had better cream all over my fucking cock, do you understand me?”

you screamed in this snow storm, knowing no one will be able to rescue you from the beasts cocks of his, that are tearing through you, ripping you apart as they rip an Orgasm out of you, making you squirt all over him, coating his kimono with your sweet honey.

"cum again hard now", came the low growl of a whisper.

you didn't know what came over you, you wanted to be submissive to him, you wanted to please him, you gave Sukuna exactly what he wanted. you squirted all over his cock again, it made a loud embarrassingly wet noise, the power of your orgasm was made more intense by the fact that the king of curses didn't slow down his inhumane thrusts into your very abused cunt… if anything, he began yanking into you harder, faster. 

there was an insane glint in his eyes, and with every thrust he made sukuna’s growls and grunts began to turn into laughter. 

cruel laughter, pure evil, like he was given the thing he wanted the most in this world.

then he filled you, his cum filling you so deep that you black out again, this time you didn't wake up in the cabin but in a bed whom belongs to the one and only- the king of curses.

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ end ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ

[dante-mightdie]

Viking!Soap who goes off pillaging, as one does in their free time, and comes back to Price with the squealing, kicking daughter of their (now dead) enemy clan’s chief.

Basically, “Look what I caught,” he says as reader kicks at him to let her go, to no avail, as she calls him a brute. He looks at Price like a dog bringing its master a bird.

god I woke up and hour ago to check my inbox and you guys sent in so many good ass requests i’m so proud of all of you

c/w: basically kidnapping, anal, stripping, dub-con/non-con, mentions of alcohol and pillaging, I can’t write in a scottish accent leave me alone

price had already settled down for the evening, his heavy cloak was slung over the chair in the corner of the room. his long hair had been taken out of the same bun he puts it in everyday, mousse brown hair falling in waves all the way down to his shoulders

he had planned on relaxing in front of the fireplace, nursing a bottle of mead but those plans seem unlikely now judging by the sounds of chaos approaching his tent. loud boisterous footsteps and laughter combined with high-pitched shrieks and cries

john knows that it’s johnny before he even sees him, that scottish brogue is unmistakable. he lets out a deep sigh when he finally sees the warrior burst into his home, a wound-up girl slung over his shoulder. price narrows his eyes as he watches johnny manhandle you, your back to his chest as he holds you down with his arms around your waist

“look what a’ found for ye, chief.” johnny says, a big grin spreading across his face as you kick and thrash in his arms, screaming your head off about what a brute he is, “stop yer whingin’, hen.”

“found?” price grunts out, taking a sip of the honeyed alcohol with a seemingly unfazed look on his face. your aggravated thrashes have calmed down to quiet sobs as you plead for these big, horrible men to let you go

“Anno ye said tae leave that clan alone, chief but ah caught this one bathing in the stream and knew ye would like her.” you can practically hear johnnys tail wagging when the apparent chief stands up and walks over to you, gripping your chin to examine your face before letting out a pleased grunt

“ye like her?” johnny all but whines, dropping you to the floor when the chief jerks his head to signal to out you down. you scramble to your feet, taking a few steps back and backing yourself into a corner

price lets out a small amused huff at your fight, downing the rest of his drink in a few big gulps. he walks over to you, your attempts to push him away are pitiful as his hands grip the hem of your dishevelled dress and tears the fabric in two

you squeal and weakly punch at his chest as he strips you down with what seems like no effort at all. your hands only stopping to cover your completely exposed body. johnny takes this as his cue to leave, turning on his heel with a defeated look on his face

“get over here, boy. I’ll let you have a taste after i’m finished with her.” price says, not even turning to look at johnny. instead keeping his animal gaze on your tits as he gropes them with his rough hand, “need you to tire her out so she doesn’t keep me up all night.”

johnny doesn’t need to be told twice as he takes his spot next to the bed, hand sliding up his kilt to stroke at his cock which had been hard since he snatched you up from your burning home

john grabs your upper arm and manhandles you over to the bed, bending you over the mattress and pinning your wrists to your lower back with just one of his monstrous hands

“please.” you plead, “i’m already promised to someone!”

price lets out a proper laugh at that one, lifting his spare hand and bringing it down on your ass with a thundering crack that echoes throughout the room. you squeal out in bed, pushing back your hips when his hand soothes over sore skin

“then I guess i’ll just have to kill him.” he grunts with a weak shrug of his shoulders as he shamelessly gropes your ass. this does little to soothe you as you soon start up your useless kicking and thrashing again. price only responds to this with another hard slap to your ass, “settle down. I’m not gonna fuck your cunt tonight. I know a lady when I see one. I’ll treat you proper on our wedding night, yeah?”

john uses his grip on your ass to spread your cheeks, spitting a fat glob of salvia at the right rim of muscle above your pussy. two of his thick fingers prodding at your ass before slipping inside. you squirm in his tight hold, let out a loud whine

he lets you adjust for a little while, waiting until your cries had settled down to soft sniffles before beginning to fuck your ass with his fingers. johnny makes himself known with his soft grunts and the slick sounds of his cock being stroked under his kilt

your soft pleads for him to stop are coated with cracked moans as he stretches your ass out. ha scissors his fingers inside, pulling them out when he feels little resistance. he fishes his cock out from his trousers and pressing the tip to the entrance of you

you whine and wiggle your hips slightly, your pathetic attempts at trying to get away do nothing to help as he grabs his cock and pushes himself inside you. his fingers couldn’t compare to this burn of being stretched like this on his cock

johnny lets a choked moan, throwing his head back as precum dribbles from his tip

“quit your whining, mutt. you’ll get your turn.” john grunts, grabbing your legs and putting them over his shoulders as he begins to fuck into your ass relentlessly

his face is inches away from yours, the animalistic glint in his eyes is a sharp contrast to the glossy, subdued look in yours

“he wouldn’t know what to do with a wiley little brat like you, girlie.” he grunts in your ear, one hand coming down to rub your clit with his thumb. he lets out a loud groan when he feels your ass clamp down around his thick cock, “don’t worry, I’ll take all that fight outta ya.”

[chosopie]

Hear me out: Conquer Sukana who killed y/n bethroned and Y/n, a very high ranking princess convinces Sukana who leave her baby brother, Yuji be. Yuji is a 3 year old who often clinging to y/n since Sukana basically stole the throne. Sukana falls for the beautiful y/n

CONQUERER - RYOMEN SUKUNA

“Master, it would be best if you spared them. They have done nothing against you,” Uraume spoke while he stood by Sukuna’s tall figure that loomed over you and your baby brother Yuji’s shaking figure. “Perhaps, you could even keep Lady Y/N L/N. She is known for her intelligence and her way with the sword.”

You stood in front of your little brother, arms spread open to shield his small body. Your face was covered in sweat and the blood of the man you were betrothed to. Now that he was dead, you were going to be queen—the queen of the foreign conquerer. It was unfair, but this was the rule and tradition every nation had mutually agreed upon. It was survival of the strongest. Those who are strong enough shall take what they can.

“Leave my brother alone or I will show you no mercy,” you spat.

“No mercy?” Sukuna laughed. “And what could you possibly do to me? You’re just a tiny and meek girl.”

You pulled out the dagger that was attached to the band on your thigh and pointed it at Sukuna’s upper abdomen. He quickly grabbed your wrist and yanked you to his hard and toned chest.

“Stab me, girl. Let’s see what you’ve got,” he moved his face close enough to yours that you could feel the heat radiating off his body. His eyes shamelessly examined your face, slowly trailing down to your exposed flesh. You wore a flowy purple off-shoulder dress that had a large slit that showed your legs. With him towering over you, he could see the top of your breasts your dress failed to cover.

You spat at him, causing him to move back. He scowled and tightly held your face with his large hand. His sharp nails dug onto your supple skin, leaving red streaks all over your cheeks.

“Do the women here have no knowledge of manners? Know your place. I own this nation now. I own you.” He let go of your face and snatched Yuji.

“No! Get away, monster!” Yuji fought back and tried to squeeze his way out of Sukuna’s arms.

“Yuji!” You screamed and stabbed Sukuna on the chest, carving out a big line that went all the way to his stomach.

Sukuna winced and threw Yuji onto the ground. You tried to run to your brother, but Sukuna grabbed you and held you in place.

“Please! Let him go! Just take me instead, you bastard!”

“Is that so?” Sukuna smirked, his hand effortlessly lifting Yuji from the ground and tossing him to you. You catched Yuji and hugged him tight, your left hand on the small of his back and right hand gently caressing his hair. “I shall take you as my wife,” the fierce man said.

-

Sukuna sat comfortably on his throne, his chin resting on the palm of his hands while he blankly stared at the lavish banquet your people had prepared. There were girls in revealing dresses that danced right in front of him, but his eyes were elsewhere. His gaze was fixed on you, who sat beside him in a beautiful white dress that was elegantly draped on your dainty figure. Your neck and wrists were covered in jewels of all sorts that Sukuna had gifted you prior to your unification.

“Smile a little, my dove. It’s our wedding. You’re more than lucky to have me as your ally. After all, I’m the strongest out there.”

Your eyes refused to meet his piercing gaze. “Ally? I had no choice. You forcefully took me.”

He gently reached for your chin and turned your head towards him. “You gave yourself to me, remember?”

“That’s because I had to protect my brother.”

“And you looked beautiful doing that. You would make a great mother,” he smiled with amusement.

: ̗̀➛ part 2

[some-bunniii]

Lucifer meeting an artist reader

・❥ The King of Hell admires your paintings

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

x: reader is g/n :) no use of pronouns or y/n

warnings: some raunchy details of your painting & mild swearing

When you arrived in Hell, the first thing you did was scream.

Where were you? Why was it so hot? What happened to your bed?!

“You’re in Hell, kid.” A blue bat-faced man had broke the news, as you stood helpless and confused on the street.

Hell? Like, demons and dark satanic magic kind of Hell?

That couldn’t be right. Were you that bad of a person to deserve such a fate? Did the few times you passed the Salvation Army donation bucket without dropping a coin damn you to this place?

Your death was fuzzy, a trail of shattered memories that could only give you bits and pieces of your final days. Did you go quickly in your sleep? Maybe, you hit your head so hard it caused you some kind of post-death amnesia?

Whatever had happened, you were here now with no way out.

During your first few days scouring for answers, you began to notice that Hell had an eerie similarity to life above ground. There were clubs, casinos, concerts. Heck, even TV! Sure, the things broadcasted were dark and sometimes disgusting.. but at least you had something to watch.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all? At least, compared to being thrown into dark, fiery pits for all of eternity like some cruel game of sink or swim.

Minus the people, of course. Most of them were pretty bad. Your first day watching a man get shot in the chest and lines of cocaine across tables in a diner made you decide to stay away from the streets of the city.

Which meant you had to get busy making a life for yourself. It started with working odd jobs as a bartender or a bell-hopper. You’d scrap together enough money to head to the nearest art supply store, and fill your bag with paints and charcoal pencils.

“You an artist or something?” The clerk had asked you as she scanned your items, taking note of your vast amount of diverse tools you were slowly collecting every time you stopped by.

“I usually paint, but yes, I used to do all kinds of mediums professionally when I was.. alive,” You had whispered that last part out with a pang of sadness, the reality of your situation still a fresh wound in your mind.

You had found an ad for an art studio, ran by a demon named Alexandre. You had showed him a few of your pieces, some pretty landscapes, a rendition of the Starry Night Sky which you had replaced the backdrop to be Pentagram city instead of whatever little village it was originally, and a self portrait.

“You got talent, i’ll give you that,” He had hummed, as his eyes scanned your paintings with intrigue, “But the subject? Not really what we’re looking for.”

“What do you mean?” You had asked, confusion evident in your voice.

“We’re in Hell, demons ain’t into pretty ponies and happy, little trees. They want more— eh how do i put this — sinful behavior?”

“Like…?”

“Like tits or anything that can be turned into a kink. They like blood and guts, and dead people splayed around. Dead angels too. Stuff like that.”

Tits? Dead people? You didn’t have much practice with that! At least not enough to make a career out of it.

But you had agreed anyway, this was your only shot. You stayed up late into the night, sometimes even into the early mornings, perfecting your skill when it came to much more risqué visuals. You would buy stacks of pornograohic magazines, flipping through for poses to memorize.

Slowly, you began to master the craft, and your time at the studio increased as you finally settled into life in Hell.

All you had to do was churn out painting after pastel after acrylic in the little cramped room you now called home. Alexandre would then take your pieces and sell them to the highest bidder. You’d get a percentage of the commission, using the money for whatever necessary.

Seeing as you could be mugged at literally any point in time, or anywhere for that matter, you made sure to keep a large sum of cash locked away in a double-bolted safe.

“You know Ozzie’s, that club down in the Lust Ring?” Alexandre had approached you one day, excitement in his eyes.

You shook your head as you sat behind the easel, your brush an inch from the canvas.

“Run by Asmodeus, one of the literal seven deadly sins?”

You shook your head once more.

“Fuck, you still have a lot to learn. Well, he really likes your art. He wants to buy a bunch of paintings for his club, and he’ll drop a shit ton of cash too. Ya think you can handle it?”

Your eyes had widened when he told you the exact price this sin guy was willing to pay. You had jumped from your seat, shaking his hand in profuse thanks, before scurrying off to gather more supplies.

And for a time, that’s how it went. You’d sell your steamiest paintings to Asmodeus, and other private commissions you took one after the other.

Apparently, your painting hung up in Ozzie’s was getting a lot of attention. Especially from a certain spider demon named Angel Dust.

After hearing Charlie’s decision to look for another member of their staff— someone who’d be in charge of decorating the premise with promises of love and tranquility up in Heaven— Angel Dust had taken a few snaps of your work with his phone, before showing it to Vaggie and Charlie. He had complimented your work, claiming it was ‘the best’ oil paintings he’d ever seen.

Although, in his line of work, he probably hadn’t seen many to compare yours so.

“ls this what we want in our hotel?" Vaggie had asked, motioning to a woman on the canvas that was drenched in sweat and white fluid, her private parts exposed to the audience as she posed suggestively on a stripper pole.

To which Charlie has responded, "I think it's... unique! You can definitely see she knows how to, um, really bring the scene to life! l'm sure she'll be open to creating our vision!"

Your phone had rung one night, with a voice on the other end begging you to come to her hotel and at least hear her offer for a new job.

Which lead you to the Hazbin Hotel, a slightly run down building that obviously needed more work. Inside and out.

“Oh my gosh! Hi there! My name is Charlie, and this is my hotel! it’s such a pleasure to meet you!”

“Thanks.. but I don’t see many guests around.” You had told her, your eyes darting around the lobby as you absorbed your surroundings.

“Well, we’re still trying to get our name out there. We’re not just any hotel, we’re a hotel set on redeeming sinners!” She exclaimed with pride.

“Redeem?” You had asked her, an eyebrow raised in disbelief.

She shook her head vigorously, “This hotel.. it’s going to be amazing! We’re going to turn Sinners into well.. non-sinners! They’ll be rehabilitated, and have morals! And honor! Heaven won’t be able to do anything but welcome them as angels!”

This idea had sounded a little far-fetched when you first heard it.

“You’ll be in charge of making art that reflects such views! Something that will make Sinners go, ‘Wow! Now that’s where I want to go!’”

“What’s in it for me?” You had asked.

“Well you’ll have your own room, and your own little studio too! I’m sure it’s much bigger than the one you already have. Plus we have a bar, and good company!”

You turned your head to the small crowd of demons a few feet away. A pornstar, a gambler, a snake guy with weird little walking eggs, and a really creepy man in a red coat that shot you a wide smile with eyes that seemed to stare right through your soul.

This was good company?

You contemplated her words, thinking deeply. Did you really need to leave the studio you were already a part of? You already had a room and place to paint, anyway.

Charlie must have noticed your hesitation to accept before quickly adding,

“Anddd you can sell your pieces here too! Plus, you can keep a hundred percent of the earnings.”

You perked up at that, the money made from your art would be... all yours? And, you’d get a breather from the drawing people having sex? That didn’t sound so bad after all!

“Deal!” You had reached out a hand, shaking hers with delight.

It had taken you a day or two to map out the interior of the hotel and figure out what could go where. You began to slowly brainstorm, what could make a sinner stare at a canvas and want to redeem themselves?

During your time on earth, you studied many artists through history. Most notably however, were those from the Renaissance. You remembered walking through the Sistine Chapel when you were younger,

staring at awe of the paintings of winged angels and heavenly skies.

You perked at that thought. That was it! The inspiration for your paintings, an ethereal perspective on what one would find in heaven. The feelings of bliss and care-free joy.

You spent your first few days in an undisturbed area of the hotel, it was a large room on the farthest side of the lobby. It must’ve been a guest room at one point, but other than a bed and few cushions that the ‘Radio Demon’ had placed for you, it was empty.

It was quiet enough that you could sit there, undisturbed, as you drew upon your memories and vast knowledge of histories in art as you slowly began to bring your ideas to life. Slowly, the room also took form into being yours, personal knick-knacks and stacks upon stacks of blank canvases waiting to bring your visions to life.

At the end of every day, you'd come out with your hands covered in charcoal and paint, your hard work on full display.

You had even grown closer to the other residents in the hotel, beginning to see them as more than their initial appearance. Even Alastor, who still kind of gave you the creeps, you had regarded as someone you could speak to without hesitation.

You’d sit on the couches with Angel Dust, drowning in popcorn as you watched whatever was on TV for the night. Sometimes, you’d sit with Husk at the bar as you listened to his stories from his days at the casino and as an Overlord.

It was there, when Charlie had summoned the courage to call her father, Lucifer, the King of Hell, to come visit the hotel and decide on getting her that meeting with the higher powers in Heaven.

Upon hearing about Lucifer's impending visit, you felta mixture of nerves and excitement. You've heardstories about him-his charisma, his power--but you never expected to meet him, let alone showcase your art to him. Would he even like them? He's no doubt seen much more beautiful sights.

As preparations for Lucifer's visit got more chaotic by the minute, you found yourself back in your Atelier, quickly cleaning up your room and berating yourself for any little mistakes you found in your paintings. Each stroke of the brush carried with it a sense of urgency, a desire to impress not just your friends at the hotel, but also the King of Hell himself.

The current piece you were working on was your most intense one yet. It depicted that of an almost nude man, flying high in the skies. His back was faced towards you, his face hidden from view. He was faced towards the sun, which bathed him in a warm glow. Arms outstretched, knees curled in, it seemed as if the angel was going to give the sun a large bear-hug.

It wasn’t until you heard loud commotion in the lobby did you realize Lucifer had arrived. Quickly dropping the brush you were holding, you sneaked down the stairs and quickly neared the archway of the lobby.

Peaking your head out, you canned the large room. Until your eyes locked in a pale figure. Lucifer.

He was beautiful, definitely held the looks of an angel that fell from heaven. His light blonde hair curled elegantly around his face. The candles from the chandelier above basked him in an ethereal glow, as though he could replace the sun itself. Just like the angel from your painting.

His eyes reminded you mostly of a snake. Calculating and cold, but holding so much wisdom and depth. There was a slight sadness there as well, as though itate at him slowly, consuming his soul. It was masked incredibly well though, and you only caught a glimpse before it disappeared.

His attitude toward his daughter made your heartmelt, it was obvious he cared about her in the way heacted and spoke to Charlie, even if his absence didn't speak so fondly of him.

As Lucifer and Alastor butted heads, you quickly scurried back to your room. You had hoped to finish your work-in-progress by the time he arrived, but the struggle to get those damn angel wings to be anatomically correct was a pain.

You hurriedly continued your work, trying to calm your nerves by busying yourself with the painting in front of you.

Charlie's voice broke you out of your concentration soon after, multiple footsteps closing in on where your room lay. You shot up from your seat, and stood up straight, ready to meet the man of the hour.

You couldn't help but feel a flutter of anticipation mixed with apprehension as they approached your make-shift gallery.

Charlie, Vaggie, and— wow, he looked so much better up close— Lucifer stepped through the doorway.

“Dad, this is the newest addition to our staff! They are in charge of helping to inspire our future guests through the power of art!" Charlie proclaimed with glee, pulling you by the arm towards her father.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, your majesty. I apologize for being so messy, I was just finishing up another painting." You had greeted him softly.

"Don't worry, you look great," He assured, a gleam in his eyes, "and the pleasure is all mine, anyone who is willing to help my little girl is someone worth meeting,"

You stood there for a moment. Unsure of where to go next, before you felt a slight nudge from Charlie that pulled you back to reality, "Why don't we take a look at your paintings? I promise you, Dad, they are amazing!" She squealed softly.

Beckoning Lucifer forward, you took him through each painting. You described your feelings for each piece, and what made you choose them for the hotel.

You rambled on and on, and Lucifer never said anything, he just listened as you spoke.

Which made you nervous, what was he thinking? Did he like them, or was he just waiting for you to stop talking so he could quickly escape to something of more interest to him? The thought made sweat dribble down your forehead.

To your surprise, Lucifer's reaction to your art was not what you expected. Instead of dismissing it as mere frivolity, he studied each piece with genuine interest, his expression thoughtful and contemplative.

He mostly stayed quiet, but once in awhile would throw in a joke here and there if he noticed anything of interest in the paintings.

His goofy nature that you caught onto watching him earlier was barely evident though, unlike when he was trying to impress his daughter.

After finishing the small tour, you turned to him in anticipation. Your hands nervously rubbing together, as you shot a glance to Charlie, and she gave you an uncertain look. You both held the same question in your gaze: What is he thinking?

"These paintings.." Lucifer began, his voice low and melodic, "Are different than most i've seen down here, not just some scandalous display, but with real meaning. They evoke emotions long buried, memories of a time before.. all this."

His words caught you off guard, and you found yourself nodding in agreement, unable to tear your gaze away from his intense eyes.

The one he was staring at in particular was a recreation of The Garden of Eden by Jan Breghal, a painting that depicted the place where humanity was birthed, and where it fell.

“Does it look like.. how you remembered?" You had asked slowly, if anyone could validate the truth in your work, it would be him.

"Actually, this is much prettier. The real deal doesn't do your painting justice," He replied, "It was so boring, just green on green."

Also," He added, "An unfortunate lack of ducks. Humanity should be grateful that I got them out of that forest, so they could see something actually worthwhile.. and with ducks."

You giggled softly at his words, have you ever met someone that seemed to love ducks as much as him?

As Lucifer continued to explore the room, you couldn’t help but notice the way he lingered on certain paintings, his fingers tracing the delicate lines with reverence. It was as if he saw something in your art that no one else did, something profound and personal.

Perhaps your choice of baby-faced angels, and ethereal landscapes brought back memories of his time in Heaven. Hopefully, that wasn't a bad thing.

When Lucifer finally turned to you, his gaze softened, a hint of something unreadable lurking beneath the surface. "You have a rare gift," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "To create beauty in a place like this... it's truly remarkable."

He looked at you for a moment, before a smile crept onto his lips. He was Lucifer, he knew exactly what you meant. It's what drove him to manipulate Eve to eat from the Tree of Life in the first place.

Was he finally getting a glimpse of the good free will brought to humanity? Was there actually meaning in his past actions that sent him to the depths of Hell?

His gaze narrowed in on the canvas behind you, and he slipped past you. "What is this?" He asked with intrigue, pointing towards your unfinished painting.

“My final piece. I've been working on it for days, but I just can't get the wings right.. believe it or not, i've never actually seen angel wings in person." You said that last bit as a joke.

His smile sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach. For the King of Hell, it was surprisingly warm, and kind.

Then an idea struck you, but you tried to desperately to push it down. Except it seemed like the only time you could ask someone with angel wings to let you use them as a reference. How many fallen angels were in Hell, anyway?

"I'm so sorry if this is out of line, but. could I, um, borrow you for a little bit? I've just been having trouble drawing the wings correctly and you, well, have them?”

His eyes widened, and his chest puffed slightly at your question. He shot you a toothy grin, “Paint me? Why didn't you mention that earlier?! I have the perfect figure for such a thing.”

Behind him, Charlie rolled her eyes, a hint of a smile on her lips. You smiled too, you should've known he'd have no problem with it, he was the embodiment of pride after all.

He plopped down on a stool before you, and removed his overcoat. Beneath what seemed to be a red and white gatsby vest that hugged his frame perfectly. Jeez, he was almost too good looking.

He stretched out his large wings, folding the otherfour behind him, only revealing the two much largerones. They were breathtaking, truly. They looked so fluffy too!

You guided him on the exact position you needed them to be in, before making your way to the canvas and getting to work.

Assuring the group you only needed to get a visual on the canvas, the actual work you would do on your own. Slowly, you traced the frame of his wings, etching out the soft lines of his feathers and the curvatures of its form.

You could only imagine how soft those feathers were and what it would be like to curl around them like a pillo-

You shook your head to rid those thoughts. Why were you thinking such things about Lucifer like that? It's not like he would even want to let you go anywhere near him or his wings.

Would he?

You continued your painting, trying not to meet his gaze as you would occasionally peak your head from behind the large canvas to get another good look at his wings.

There was a moment when you two did lock eyes, and he sent a half-lidded smirk in your direction. Thankfully the large object between you two helped hide your growing blush. He was obviously just trying to get you worked up, you assured yourself. Just like he did with Alastor. In a different way, of course.

"This reminds me of when Charlie was younger" Lucifer began, filling the silence, "We sat for a good few hours trying to get a family portrait painted and she would just not sit still!”

“Dad.. please, not right now." Charlie growled out in embarrassment, her cheeks flushed. Vaggie only smiled beside her, listening intently as Lucifer filled everyone in on her younger years.

“lt got to the point where I had to summon her favorite toy to get her to stop squirming, everything was smooth sailing after that.

"And what was her favorite toy?" You inquired softly behind the canvas

“A rubber duck! Like the ones you play with in the bath? She could not get enough of it whenever it squeaked. One time the squeaker broke, and I went to my workshop and crafted her a magical one that meowed instead! Haha!"

Okay, this family really has a thing for ducks!

“She hated it, but that only inspired me to keep making more. Sometimes, we'd sit together on the work bench, and I would just come up with ideas like confetti-spitting, or color changing ducks. She wasn't too good at speaking at that time, so every time she'd laugh that was my clue that she liked it!"

It was sweet, the way he rambled about his daughter. He never spoke of himself or his accomplishments, despite embodying the sin of pride. It was almost like his only pride was his best creation, Charlie.

He continued, the room full of jokes and laughter, even from Vaggie, regarding Charlie's life as a youngling. You listened intently to his stories, his voice dripping with amusement as he recounted story after story.

lt was so sappy and you loved it. Which made you grumble quietly to yourself, why did you have to have a thing for DILFS?! Concentrate on the painting!

After a moment, Lucifer's eyes turned back to the paintings around him, his gaze scanning each painting once more. "I've noticed that you seem to have a repetition in your work.. not that that's a bad thing!" He quickly corrected.

“But in all of your paintings featuring angels, there's always a swan swimming or resting nearby. Do they hold any significance, or are they just a passion for you?"

You looked up from the canvas, and also traced the angelic figures across the room. He was right, with the images of the divine beings also came the appearance of the large, white water fowl. Lying lazily beside the angels, or swimming across pools of water as the care-free beings danced and frolicked.

You contemplated for a moment, before speaking truthfully.

“I just think Swans are elegant and ethereal creatures. They embody the purest of souls, untouched by the taint of sin that consumes the world, just like how their feathers remain untouched from the waters they glide on"

Lucifer's eyes lit up slightly, drinking up your words.

“Plus," You continue, "they mate for life, and allow themselves to just.. decay once their significant other departs from the world. It's very romantic, and love is one of the purest emotions in the world."

Lucifer wasn't looking at you when your eyes met his again, his stare was far off. Past the room entirely, as your words echoed through him. There it was again, the glimpse of sadness that he tried to hide so painfully well.

“Does such love like that exist?," he murmured so softly you had to strain your ears.

There was a few moments of deathly silence before Charlie piped up, asking her father something about heaven. You tried to listen, but your mind was stuck on his words. Lucifer was in heaven once, and he still didn't fully believe in such things?

If there weren't others in the room, perhaps you would’ve asked him.

It took a few more minutes before you were able to wrap up fully, but you had no regrets of asking this man for help, the angel on the canvas actually looked like he had wings, not just stumps of white tuft.

You got up from your seat and walked towards him, noticing that Charlie and her girlfriend were not present anymore. It was just you and Lucifer in theroom now.

“Well, thank you, Your Majesty. You really helped me out here, and it'll go a long way to make the hotel look even better"

“Please, call me Lucifer. The formalities are only for subjects, not friends," he replied, "l did really enjoy getting to see your paintings, you are quite a phenomenal artist. I wasn't lying when I said your work was different from the rest. If only you were around for those family portraits."

You were so taken aback by his praise that you only shrugged it off, like it was no big deal. Even though, coming from the King of Hell, it was.

Glancing behind him, you saw Charlie and Vaggie whispering to each other in the hallway outside of the door. You assumed they probably wanted to finish up so they could get him to agree to the meeting with Heaven.

lgnoring his previous statement of formalities— he was the king, you thought, you weren't going to just pat him on the back and say 'see ya! —you lowered your head and bent down to curtsy, just like you were taught when you were younger, placing your hand slightly in front of you.

Usually, you'd use that hand to shake or grasp the other person's, but it felt wrong to treat this powerful angel like any other man.

Suddenly, you felt the soft touch of fingers gliding across your hand. In confusion, you looked up at those golden eyes and that charming smile. Trying to get a glimpse of what he was thinking.

His hand gripped yours gently, and with a bow of his own, lowered his lips, and pressed a soft kiss your knuckles.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you feared to blink, soaking in his beauty for as long as you could before he had the chance to pull away. You wanted to say something, but your tongue was refusing to work as your mouth opened and closed silently.

When he finally released your hand, he adjusted his hat and turned towards the door. Leaving you standing there, your face burning hot

He cleared his throat, and turned his head slightly, his eye catching yours. A playful smile dancing on his lips.

“l look forward to our next portrait together, hopefully where I am the motivation behind your strokes. Not just these dull wings."

And with his words hanging in the air, you were left alone, with the growing itch to press your face into a pillow and squeal.

——————

awww man, my first fic! I was trying to make this more dating-centric, but i couldn’t stop writing for their first meeting and it got too long haha! If y’all like this one enough, i’ll make a dating version!

let me know what you think 🙏 i reallyyyy appreciate all comments and criticisms!!

wonderful art i commissioned by DawnDrawnS on twitter! <3

[disneyprincemuke]

bother figures * fem!driver

being the designated baby sister of the grid by default is never as easy as you think it would be

pairings: alex albon x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver, george russell x fem!driver, lando norris x fem!driver

warnings: ugh annoying men

notes: this is hardly funny but like i've had to take inspiration from my bother-less life rn so i'm like rly going through it rn LMFAO and it's almost 5am here but as far as i'm concerned, it is night time somewhere so teCHNICALLY i'm not late to an update!

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

in the almost empty room, she sits in the corner seat as she taps away on her phone a message to reply to her siblings' group chat. she had arrived early for the driver's briefing and decided to take solace in the corner with a cup of hot chocolate.

she was enjoying the peace and serenity with the soft chatter in the background as she tried to lock herself in for the race weekend. that was until she felt a presence looming behind her with an aura she couldn't possibly ignore.

she slowly lifts her head up with a mean glare. she turns her head and meets max's blue eyes and sly grin. "what'cha doin'?"

she puts her phone on her lap as a scowl replaces her dead expression. "what do you want?"

"what are you doing?"

"does it hurt you when you see me and like... not do anything to annoy me?"

"yes, actually. i like talking to you."

"i just wanted to talk to ciara."

"now you can talk to me."

"but i don't really feel like doing that."

"why not? i'm here in front of you and not behind a phone screen. where's ciara?" he looks around, then at her with a beaming smile. "oh, would you look at that? not here."

"because she isn't an f1 driver."

"still not here to talk to you and provide you the joys of interacting with somebody face to face."

"max."

"(y/n)."

"times like these i remember you've got a younger sister."

"what's that got to do with anything?"

"you've mastered the practice of being annoying growing up, obviously. you're such a pro at it."

"how can you say that?" max cries, hand on his chest to feign hurt over her words. "i'm not annoying. please take that back!"

"you realise you made me stop my conversation with my lovely sisters because you saw me sitting alone."

max reaches out and pinches her cheek, grinning when blood rushes to her cheeks. "you were just looking a little lonely. just wanted to make you feel a little accommodated to, that's all."

she stares at him, lips pressed together. "okay, that's actually pretty sweet. i kinda feel bad now.”

“and you should!” max frowns, folding his arms over his chest. he leans back into his seat and rests one leg over the other. “you’re mean, you know?”

“i’m an oldest sister.”

“i’m an oldest brother.”

“i have three younger siblings that made me wanna shave my head bald.”

“that’s kinda crazy.”

“i know,” she sighs tiredly. but she smiles slightly. “but it’s kinda nice. with oscar and logan taking over those responsibilities growing up, we never had a moment of boredom at home.”

“cute!” max smiles. “if i lived with you growing up, you might’ve actually run away for good.”

“i could run away for good now if you’d like.”

“seb wouldn’t like that.”

“you’d have to deal with it. i’ll leave a note on my team’s fridge with your name on it.”

“you need to put the reason underneath. if not, your team will think you’re just naming the most handsomest driver on the grid,” max shakes his head in disappointment. “don’t wanna give off the wrong idea, you know?”

“if you say ‘handsomest’, it doesn’t need a ‘most’ before it,” she says, lips parted slightly at the atrocious grammar. if there’s one thing she can’t stand, it’s most definitely the reigning world champion making simply grammar mistakes. “you should get more sleep.”

“i do! i slept like 10 hours last night!”

“somehow i find that hard to believe with the bags under your eyes.”

“what are you two bickering about?” a hand lands itself on the back of her chair. carlos stands next to her with one hand on his hip. “i could hear you from the hallways.”

“damn, you should really keep it down, max,” she chuckles, sending him a shocked look before she clasps her hands together and rests it on her stomach. “you’re too loud.”

“i’m sure he meant you. you like… swallowed a mic as a kid,” max scoffs. he looks up at carlos. “tell me she was louder than me.”

carlos sighs. “you were loud on the same level, i believe.”

"see? i told you."

"you're moving in with logan?" alex's jaw drops, the tiktok video no his phone left to play on repeat as the younger girl dropped the news that logan's moving into her apartment. "mate, what?"

she looks up at him with a confused stare. "what?"

"i thought you said you didn't want people talking about you like that?" alex asks, raising an eyebrow. "people will definitely talk if you move in with a man."

she presses her lips together. "you've got a point, i suppose. but logan's my best friend. we've been talking about moving in together forever! since i was 15!"

"i'm just looking out for you, kid. you should really think this through," alex sighs as he slumps his shoulders. of course, he knows just how close she and logan are on a day-to-day basis. but people tend to be quite ruthless with women and he just can't see this going any other way. "you know how people are."

she sighs, shaking her head. "i don't know. i just don't think people would pay attention to that aspect of my life. i still deserve to make decisions that wouldn't be at risk of scrutiny, right?"

she takes a step forward towards alex. she hadn't exactly thought of the public implications that this would cause her. all she knew was that they'd talked about this for years and were ecstatic when logan shyly brought up their conversation from years ago.

"that's the basic that we all hope for," alex frowns. "but you know how people are. you've seen how they treat you just being here. imagine the chaos."

"maybe i'll just keep it under wraps and hope for the best," she suggests with a small smile on her face. "that could work, right? i don't wanna have to put down something i spent forever talking about."

"if you can keep it under wraps, i applaud you," alex smiles, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "and i thought you've had enough of men - why are you still moving in with one?"

"to save money, really," she smiles. "and with kidnapper and stubby at home... i think living with another person is best."

"but doesn't logan like dogs more?"

"yeah, but kidnapper's taken a very weird liking to him. he doesn't wanna admit, but i know logan really likes kidnapper a lot."

"typical logan, really."

"you'd be surprised how much feelings that loser's holding in."

"oh?" alex smiles mischievously. "tell me more?"

"nice try," she scoffs with an eye roll. "i'm not spilling the beans about logan's love life. that's lore you've got to unlock the longer you race with him. just hope he's feeling friendly enough to share, yes?"

"so true," alex frowns. "but what if he's not friendly enough? means you are my only source for material to piss him off with. so, 'fess up!"

"can't betray my best friend like that, i fear," she frowns. though, her smile grows slowly. "but i can be bribed."

a scowl carves her face as she stares at the roll-in whiteboard with pictures held up against it with sesame street magnets. she sinks into the plastic chair she's given and tilts her head at the men gathered around her.

"and that's why i think you should get the same car as me," lando says simply, recapping the marker in his hands. he turns to her with a proud smile after his presentation.

her lips part. "so that we can matchy and..."

"and fuel rumours," lando repeats. "i'm involved in too little drama this year. it's always 'no wins' this, and 'no podiums' that... i want more."

"that's not a very good argument," she answers slowly, confusion contorting her face that almost makes alex laugh. "i said that i want an easy car, not a supercar. i've made that clear to almost everyone on the grid, yes?"

"yeah, but like," lando whines, throwing his head back as he stomps a foot into the ground. "seriously? you can't do this one thing for me? i'm asking you a favour!"

"to spend big money on a supercar i have to drive like it's made of glass!" she laughs dryly, hands thrown in the air in disbelief. she looks around at the men that have forcefully pulled her out of her garage and put her in this private room, in this plastic chair when she could've been taking a power nap. "is this what i'm here for? you lot are trying to convince me to finally purchase a car?"

"as per logan's request," alex shrugs, sipping on his juice box. "he said you've been putting it off all year. the season's about to end."

"and you listened to that nonce?" she cries, pinching the bridge of her nose. "you guys are absolutely unbelievable. i can't believe i'm wasting my time here!"

george, sitting next to her with a picture in hand, points at the whiteboard timidly. "i really put in a lot of thought about a car you should get," he says softly, looking slightly disappointed that she's caught on a lot faster than they predicted. "can i at least show it to you? i don't have to present."

"aw, george," she sighs, shaking her head. "it's not another supercar, is it?"

"it's not, i promise!" he perks up with a small smile on his face. he turns to lando with a small scowl. "only lando did this presentation with his best interests in mind. alex and i took the task seriously - just hear us out!"

she looks between george and alex, contemplating if the brit is telling the truth. instead of getting up like she had initially planned, she leans back into her seat. "fine. if it's anything like lando's, i'm leaving immediately. i don't care who has yet to present."

"but this ferrari looks so pretty," charles frowns, turning the picture in his hand to show it to her. "it's matte black and all. i thought we could match."

"that is also a supercar."

"he's presenting last, so i really don't care what he says," george mutters, shoving lando away from the whiteboard. he picks up a big bird magnet and pastes his picture between lando and max's proposal. "so, i think you should get this super cute toyota car."

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhgbcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @love4lando @sadg3 @bborra @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Yokai Harem x Reader (II)

The two yokai men reach an agreement and you begin your journey together, searching for clues regarding the mysterious case of your incomplete reincarnation. You learn about the third of the Legendary Yokai, a gargantuan monster worshipped in times of war.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Character Guide]

The next swish of the mysterious man's sword is parred by Kiritsubo, who managed to make his way to you in time.

"Wait! It's not entirely him, Murasaki, I can explain!" He shouts frantically.

"So you let him live. This is why you've never been good for anything." The dark haired man snarls in a low voice, disgust seeping through his sharp teeth.

It becomes obvious rather quickly that he has the advantage in terms of battle experience. You can only stare in fear, stuffing your wound with your jacket sleeve. What else can you do? You're bleeding profusely and if a demon of Kiritsubo's stature cannot compete, you'd be even less helpful.

"Listen to him, man, I genuinely don't know anything about your master!" You beg as your limbs are flooded with a prickling sensation. They're slowly going numb. "Please. I just want to go home."

Damn it. You have no idea whether the bleeding will stop anytime soon. Is this how you die? You won't even get a proper burial. Even worse, your family will live on thinking you vanished without a trace, unaware you've been stabbed to death by a crazy jackass in feudal Japan. You wish you could make them stop.

You squeeze your eyes tightly, trying to think of a way to escape, when you hear both men groan in pain. You look ahead to see them on the ground, clinging tightly to their chests, faces twisted in a grimace. Huh? They couldn't have killed each other in the few seconds they were out of your view. What is going on?

After a few agonizing moments, the yokai seem to calm down. Kiritsubo is gasping for air, clumsily pulling himself back up. Murasaki remains on the grass, forcing himself to appear collected despite the cold sweat coating his forehead.

"That's...what...I...meant..." The silver haired demon groans between hitched breaths. "Whew. You see it now, don't you? She doesn't emanate enough power to pull this off. It's coming from somewhere else."

Murasaki clicks his tongue in visible annoyance.

"So then, what do you suggest?"

"I don't know. But something is stopping you from killing her and there's a chance she's connected to the source."

"What are you guys whispering about?" You inquire, crawling closer towards the horned men. "And why did you suddenly collapse? You scared the hell out of me!"

"You didn't feel anything?" Kiritsubo questions you with raised eyebrows.

"Besides the, I don't know, stab wound? No, thankfully." You respond sarcastically.

Without a word, Murasaki stands up and approaches you. He crouches down to your level and nonchalantly slaps your hand away from your shoulder.

"Hey!"

"Have you ever tended to a wound in your life? You're shit at it." He uses his sword to cut off your sleeve and folds it over your gash with calculated movements. You hiss at the pain and glare at him. "Bite down on a stick if you can't handle it. Better than being dead."

The white haired yokai flashes you an awkward but reassuring smile.

"He might be an ass about it, but he knows what he's doing."

"Why are you helping me, anyways?" you point out, somewhat wary. "You literally tried to kill me a moment ago."

"I changed my mind. You'll help us find the damned bastard or whatever it is he's using to control us."

"What, the priest? Hell no, I'm going back to my world. I've had enough action for the rest of my life."

Murasaki finishes bandaging you and gives you one final press, almost as if messing with you, and you wince. He stands up and slides his sword back in its sheath.

"If you focus a little, you will find there was no question or request in my words. I'm not negotiating with a weakling like you."

Kiritsubo squats down before you and claps his hand together, pleadingly.

"Please think about it, (Y/N). I know you don't owe us anything, but there's a chance we could finally break the seal and be free. If you'd consider helping us. You can walk away, but that won't change the fact you're part of Abe no Nakamaro. He will want his powers back at some point, and we can protect you when the time comes."

You cross your arms and frown thoughtfully, pondering the options. He did save you twice already. So in a way, you're indebted to him. And if he's right, and you will have to deal with more crazy encounters in the future, it's probably better to have two powerful demons by your side.

"Alright, alright. I'll help you." You exclaim with a confident nod.

Kiritsubo grins, satisfied, and Murasaki huffs and looks away. There's a prolonged silence as you wait for them to continue with further instructions, but the men remain quiet.

"So...what now?" you eventually speak up.

"Oh. I thought you knew where to go next." the silver haired man retorts, confused.

"Idiot. She's not a compass." Murasaki scolds him. "Can you stand?" He adds, turning to you. "There's a shrine a few kilometers away that belonged to him. If we leave now, we should make it before sunset. Maybe we can find something there."

You try to prop yourself up, but Kiritsubo promptly scoops you with his sinewy arm and throws you on his back again.

"I'll carry you. Just hold on."

A faint blush dusts your cheeks, but you don't have the energy to argue it. You clutch onto his broad shoulders and nod.

The walk is uneventful and both yokai seem to be distracted. The gentle swaying is causing you to be more comfortable than you'd like to admit and your eyelids become heavy with exhaustion. Before you know it, your head drops against the toned back and you fall asleep.

By the time you open your eyes again, you've already reached your destination. You yawn and stretch, lazily scanning the surroundings. A heavy shadow looms over you and you glance up. Still groggy from your nap, you scream before you can fully process the object towering above.

It's a statue. A colossal statue of some sort of monster. A demon with thick, wide bull horns sprawling out imposingly, almost eclipsing the ridiculously muscular build. The creature has four arms, flexed in a threatening manner, with one hand gripping a heavy spear and the other a skull. The crimson light of the sunset creeps through the windows and reflects against the chiseled clay, giving the statue a devilish glow. You feel insignificant.

"That's Suma."

"W-what?" your head tilts to Kiritsubo.

"He's one of us. You might meet him soon, if he's been alerted of your presence. This is a shrine built for him, to bring good fortune during times of war."

You cannot help but gawk at the structure.

"Is it, uh, life sized?"

"Heh, almost. He's a little taller than this." He chuckles, slightly nostalgic.

You swallow dryly. Just a moment ago you thought Kiritsubo was unusually big.

"I'd rather not meet him, to be honest." You shiver at the idea.

"Don't worry about it. Now that Murasaki has joined us, you're pretty much safe from anything. He's the strongest of us." The yokai remarks with a sad smile.

"Really?"

You peek at the dark haired man, currently flipping through dusty manuscripts, and briefly observe him. Compared to Kiritsubo, he's quite slender, with noble, elegant features. And he'd be able to defeat this enormous beast? Then again, the glimpse you've caught of his swordsmanship is enough of a convincing argument.

What a bizarre gathering of creatures beyond your understanding.

You remember to look away when Murasaki grunts and throws the remaining scroll of paper. His lips form a thin line as he rakes his mind for the next step.

"Nothing here. But I'm rather certain he has to be at one of his hideouts. We'll check each and one of them if we have to." 

"Wait, are you saying he's still alive? We saw his body before Sekiya and Sakaki took him for the embalming and burial."

Murasaki scoffs at his partner's gullible nature.

"And you believed it? That parasite spent his entire life searching for ways to prolong his reign. He's probably hiding somewhere, waiting for his renewed part of the soul to return to him." 

He rests against the wall and points a clawed finger at you. 

"This must've been his solution. Releasing his remaining energy until it found a proper vessel to grow stronger, and patiently awaiting the body swap. Then we go back to being whipped dogs fulfilling his whims."

It's your turn to be outraged, twisting your mouth downwards.

"No way, I'll pound that old man into sand!" You bark and throw a jab against the air, emphasizing your threat. "As if I'd just hand myself over."

"I'm not sure if it'll be that easy, (Y/N)..." Kiritsubo glances at you with a hurt expression. "He's a terrifying, vengeful bastard."

"Not if we find him first and take him out." Murasaki counters with a glint of determination in his eyes. "Humans need to rest, don't they? We'll spend the night here and tomorrow we head out. Kiritsubo, find me a map so we can keep track of the locations. I'll bring the wood for a fire."

And with this, he marches out. Kiritsubo scurries to his duty and you quietly follow his movements. He seems to be used to executing Murasaki's orders. You hadn't considered their group dynamic much, but it appears to have some rather complex hierarchies involved. You almost wish you could witness all of them together, wondering how they'd interact with each other. 

Who knows? If you stick around, it could happen eventually. Murasaki was surprisingly easy to convince, so the other yokai might as well agree to keep you alive until you find their source of misfortune. Heh. Almost like a harem, or something. You snicker to yourself.

Which reminds you...

The fire has been lit and Murasaki mumbles something about guarding the perimeter. This time you hurry outside after him. You reach out to the dark haired man and pull on his kimono sleeve.

He turns to you, mildly irked.

"What?"

"Teach me how to use a sword." You state with the assertiveness of an order.

"Why? I can assure you I'm more than enough. I've never been defeated." He stares at you, incredulous.

"I don't want to rely on you all the time. You're already this close to being unbearable", you explain, pinching your fingers together. "Besides, if I'm going to be stuck among beasts, I'd very much prefer being the one doing the cool stuff."

And with that, you pretend to slice through an invisible enemy, whistling the sound of your sword cutting through the air. You furrow your eyebrows, imitating the engrossed expression of a seasoned samurai in the middle of a battleground. Murasaki quickly lifts a hand to his mouth - did he chuckle just now? - and responds, the faintest amusement in his voice:

"As you wish. But I'm warning you now, I won't hold back."

"I've been injured twice in less than 24 hours, I'm sturdy enough." You answer, patting your chest proudly.

Next time one of the Legendary Yokai comes for you, you won't be as vulnerable. That's for sure.

[queenariesofnarnia]

sleepover secrets

gif not mine!

wc: 654

alastor x f!reader

🦌❤️

“You’re crazy as hell toots” Angel howls with laughter before tossing popcorn in his mouth. 

“Shut up! I can’t be the only person who finds the full on demon form totally fuckable” you try and defend yourself. 

“The only one who would say it out loud for sure” he informs you leaning against you as Fat Nuggets settles between you both. 

“I would never have the guts to tell him. I may be crazy but I enjoy not being double dead Ang.” giving Fat Nuggets  attention as you turn back your the movie he chose. A few moments of silence pass before Angel speaks again,

“Definitely a size kink thing right?” you couldn’t help but snort. 

“Definitely” you agree, unbeknownst to you a little eavesdropping shadow heard your spilled secrets. Going back to tell his master the news. The radio demon’s grin growing in curiosity. As the night grew on and more secrets were spilled the little shadow remained unseen gathering more to share with his master until you and Angel turned in for the night. The bottle you’ve been sharing forgotten on the nightstand. 

✨the next day✨

As morning hit Angel and you roll out of bed in pajamas trudging down stairs for breakfast. Greeting everyone, you sit next to Alastor who has your morning coffee in his hand. You thank him loud enough for him to hear before settling into your seat enjoying your coffee. Charlie suggested a group bonding activity, even pleading with Alastor to join. Everyone paired off into twos and just your luck of course you have him as your partner. 

“Okay everyone, ask your partner a question that you think would help to get to know them deeper!” Charlie optimistically instructed. 

“Ladies first dear” his always present grin seemed to sparkle with mischief today. 

“What drew you to radio hosting?” your question seemed to surprise him. 

“Well my dear, I believe this voice deserves to be broadcasted everywhere.” he answers, before pretending to think about what to ask you. “What do you think about my full form dear?” you shift in your seat at the question. There’s no way he could’ve heard you. Thinking of how to avoid the question. 

“I think it suits you. It definitely shows you’re not one to be fucked with” you answer looking away from him. His clawed fingers grab your face making you face him. You see Angel behind him with a shit eating grin looking at you. 

“It is quite rude not to look at someone while speaking to them my dear” his tone left you too stunned to speak. Dropping his hand from your face, you shoot up from your seat dismissing yourself from the group apologizing. Making it to your room in record time lying face down on your bed. 

“I’m never showing my face again” you mumble into your pillow.  

“Now that would be unfortunate dear” Alastor’s voice startled you as me appears in your bed. 

Startling you, before you could fall to the floor his shadow pushed you back up. 

“If I could have a heart attack still, I’d be dead” you huffed holding your chest. 

“You didn’t answer my question honestly dear” he said repeating his previous actions to get you to look at him. 

“You know the answer don’t you?” you ask doing your best to keep eye contact. “You do know it’s not right to eavesdrop on secrets shared at sleepovers Al” you give him the best serious look you can muster. 

“Whenever you want to see my full form again just ask cher” he said releasing your face before disappearing back into his shadow. Leaving you flustered. His laugh echos from the radio in your room, shaking your head with a small smile on your face. 

“You’re too much Al” you said softly but loud enough for him to pick up. 

“Don’t speak too soon dear” he replied before your radio turned off. 

[ioniiaa]

My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 3)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Quick Notes:

This is when both reader/you and Alastor are both alive. (... we'll probably end up in hell later on btw so stay tuned...)

Reader is an artist/painter.

Part 3:

Shutting the door to your house, you slide down to the floor, back against the door. Your hands come up to your chest, clutching the fabric of your shirt, heart racing.

Looking around the room, you felt suffocated. Every inch of the wall had some reminder of your husband, paintings, photographs, newspaper clippings of every accomplishment and accolade of his. It made you want to tear your hair out.

A silent scream leaves your throat as tears run down your face. Silent crying was something you've mastered after all these years..

But never have you cried and broken down like this, with something giving you a glimmer of hope. That something was Alastor, he made you feel appreciated, you felt free when you were with him, like all your worries were washed away and you were helplessly in love.

With the realization that you were in love, your hands fell to the ground with a quiet thud. For too long had you suffered the control, the physical and mental abuse at the hands of your husband and your family that only saw you as a pawn- a means to an end for them.

The tears dried up as you sat there silently for hours till the sun rose, feeling like an empty husk of a human. It took you a long time before you could collect yourself.

Though you felt so weak, you had to go out and do some errands. Having to keep up the image of perfect housewife, after all.

With a vacant and empty look in your eyes, you left the house, barely presentable.

You didn't even know what you were going out for, but you'd find something, anything.

During your walk around town, looking for something to buy so you wouldn't go home empty-handed, an odd feeling and urge came over you to take a route home that you've never taken before.

The way you took this time was full of twists and turns, leading to many shady backstreets and alleyways.

One sign reading "Arabella's Apothecary" caught your eye, prompting you to enter.

The door opens with a chime, the shopkeeper giving you a smug smile, "Welcome in dear, how can I help ya this fine morn'?" You nervously tell her that you were just looking around.

The shopkeeper, who you found out was indeed Arabella, like the sign outside indicated, "You know, people don't just come in here for nothin'... Hun, I think we both know you're looking for a key to freedom."

Arabella's words shook you to your core, "A... key? T-to freedom?" You laugh nervously, wondering if this woman was a witch. But then it came to you, maybe you did need... something.

She laughed at your face, "Bwahaha, I can read you like an open book! I'm no witch, I just deal in... specialty medicines, you might say."

After a short conversation with Arabella, you find yourself in possession of some arsenic. This little powder was your freedom, and you thank your lucky stars that fate guided to this back alley hidden apothecary shop.

During the week of your husband's absence, you didn't visit Mimzy's bar at all, actually. You were planning your husband's demise. You had to be methodical, careful, every single minute detail needed to have a plan and a backup plan- including your escape and how you would remove yourself from suspicion of being involved in your husband's death.

When your husband opened the door, announcing his return, you felt a pit form in your stomach. The bile rose in the back of your throat at the thought of freedom being so close and yet so far.

According to your plan, your husband would be dead in the next couple of weeks. It would be hell to not visit Mimzy's bar in hopes of seeing Alastor again, but if everything went according to plan, you'd be free of your shackles. So two weeks, give or take a few days, was nothing compared to the near decade of pain you've had to endure.

There were a few close calls during this time, but your husband was just diagnosed with food poisoning each time until he was found dead at his desk at the office he worked at.

You had slowly poisoned him slowly and consistently enough to evade suspicion. You knew this much when the police came knocking on your door informing you that your husband was found dead. The gates holding back the flood were unlocked, and you crumpled to the floor crying. The police tried to console you, but little did they know that you secretly crying from being overjoyed at the news.

At the funeral, your family and in-laws looked at you with distaste and all they did was tell you to get out of their faces, telling you what a disappointment you were for failing as a wife to keep your husband happy and healthy.

That was all you needed to hear. You turned away from them and left town, not bothering to stop by your home. You left only with the clothes on your body, making your way to Mimzy's bar. If anyone was able to help you, it would be Mimzy, your only true friend in the world.

You get to Mimzy's bar a bit too early, sometime in the evening, as usually the bar only opens late at night. So Mimzy was prepared to ward off any suspicious people that could get the bar/speakeasy in trouble, but she rushed up to you immediately, fawning over you, seeing you in all-black funeral attire with puffy eyes, " (Y/N)! Darlin'!! What happened to you??"

Mimzy ushers you into her office, gives you a warm cup of tea and a blanket as she barrages you with more questions. You smile weakly at her and make her promise not to tell a soul, and she pinky promised that she would take your secrets to the grave. And she kindly offered for you to stay with her as long as you needed.

You took Mimzy up on her offer, but you offered to help out at the bar for as long as you did. It was the only way you would accept her generosity.

-> Part 4

[spacebarbarianweird]

OK OK you just gotta hear me on this one,, Astarion and gn reader where reader is little spoon and Astarion can *sense* just how relaxed reader gets. Instead of their pulse racing from his touches they slow down. Muscles relaxed. Happy little sighs.

^^ he can’t handle this btw he’s absolutely fucking bewildered

A Person to Hold

Synopsis: Fluffy post-game epilogue

Tags: fluff

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

He looks at you, unable to stop smiling.

"They deserve happiness. We all do. And I will forever be grateful to have found it with you," Astarion says.

You make a step forward with open arms. Astarion hugs you, closing his eyes like a content cat. 

A mere half year ago these hugs scared him. It was weird. It was scary. What did you want? Did you want to hurt him? Did you want his body?

No.

None of that.

You taught him not to be afraid. You hug him daily and if he occasionally flinches you don’t let him go. You hold him in your arms when he has nightmares and kiss away his tears when it's just too much.

"I feel bad keeping you all to myself! After all, I get to see you every night."

"Are you sure? You won't be bored?"

You kiss his cheek and leave. In a few seconds, you look back, trying to see if he hasn’t changed his mind. 

"Darling, I can spend some time with myself. Go on, go and mingle. And I will be there, when you’re ready. I will always be here, my love."

He hasn’t. Astarion sits down beside a campfire sensing its warmth.

He doesn't feel like talking. He didn't manage to make friends with the others and now can sense hostility from them. He is a vampire. His strength isn’t suppressed by the tadpole and apparently once the vampire's master is dead, spawns become lesser vampires. Astarion doesn't feel the difference, to be honest, but he knows people feel something is off with him.

Well, it doesn't matter. What matters is that he feels good. He has never thought his head might be so clear. He can make a working ambush plan in a blink of an eye and it won't lead to a disaster because he actually can think everything through. He can walk on ceilings and walls again, he regenerates before you manage to notice he is wounded. 

He has the world to explore, places to see, things to do. He is going to make up for all these decades of misery, to bury them under the pile of happy memories.

And he has you.

Probably the weirdest thing that could happen to him.

You, who forgave his lies and manipulations, who gave him the second chance when it was the stupidest thing to do. Who made him believe the world isn’t an evil place. 

You are the first person he sees when returns from his reverie. Your breathing soothes him, so does your heartbeat.

Astarion never had anything. Everything he had a right to was stripped away from him including his own life.

But now he has you.

To hold, to kiss, to talk. 

To travel together, to hunt monsters, to be independent adventurers. You are there to save him from nightmares. And he is there to save you from death.

How could he become so happy?

“I am going to sleep, are you with me or do you want to hunt?” he feels a soft “pat” on his shoulder.

How come he has you?

You are a bit drunk and very sleepy.

“Let’s go to the tent.”

“Good, I got used to sleeping with you by my side.”

Astarion looks around as if ashamed of what he is going to do and, having made sure no one sees you, takes you in his hands bridal-style.

You are weightless to him thanks to the vampiric strength. He could walk many miles carrying you and not getting tired.

In the tent, you get to your bedroll and immediately cover yourself with a thick blanket. Then, you open it a little, inviting Astarion to join.

He takes his clothes off and crawls to your side. The night is warm, so are you. But since you have to share your body heat with him, you sleep under the thickest fur blanket. 

You are his and he is yours. If a year ago someone told him that would be his future he would bitterly laugh.

Astarion presses your back to his chest, placing the chin on your shoulder.

Your muscles relax, the pulse slows down. You are falling asleep in his arms.

"My love, thank you" he whispers in you ear, tugging you closer

“Hm?”

“Thank you for finding me."

You squeeze his hand. “You were worth it.”

He doesn’t want to meditate. He wants to hold you like that until you wake up. Astarion concentrates on your breathing and heartbeat. You are already sound asleep.

“Sleep well, darling,” he kisses your cheek. “We still have plenty of things to do together.” 

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96

[apollyonsdarksecrets]

A part of you, a part of me

Summary: Joel’s been down this road before, he’s seen all the signs, and he knows before you ever do that you’re pregnant.

Warning: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut, unplanned pregnancy, crying, fluff, pre-outbreak Joel. Established relationship, cream pie, pet names, cussing, pregnancy tests, just a bunch of happiness because that’s all Joel deserves in this world. 💜😭

A/n: I can’t say Joel has a breeding kink… but I can certainly say he makes me have one 😌

Joel Miller Master List

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Joel remembers everything from Sarah’s mother’s pregnancy, all of the signs that lead up to them finding out. And surely enough it was beginning to show in you.

It started one autumn morning, when he woke up to find you nestled in beside him, face pressed into his chest, snoring slightly, hair in disarray. You were the picture perfect definition of someone getting the best sleep of their lives.

The only reason it concerned his was the fact that you never slept in past 6. You were always up before Joel, making breakfast for him and Sarah and more often than not Tommy, taking Sarah to school with a sweet kiss to his lips before you’d dash off to work yourself.

Brushing the hair from your face he whispers softly, “Honey?” You grumble something unintelligible, pulling a smile from him. “Honey it’s 7:20.” You’re slow to open your eyes, hazy and still leaded with sleep as they focus in on him, his dark hair sticking up around his head like every morning, “You okay?”

“M’ just really tired… think you can take over this morning?” You whisper, reaching up and cupping his cheek, the stubble of his beard scratching your palm.

“Of course baby. You need me to call work? Want a day to relax?” You smile at his concern, knowing he’s already gearing himself to go the extra mile to make sure you start to feel better.

“That would be really nice.” He kisses your lips gently before leaving you to sleep in, and you end up sleeping most of the day away.

Joel’s quick to notice that you start to get more tired as the days progress, usually a morning person you were now sluggish and downing two cups of coffee just to stay alert, you’d stay in bed a little longer and go to sleep a little earlier.

Initially he’d chalked it up to being stress at work, you were an associate for a designer company, making all the hotels and houses around here ‘fancy looking’ as he would say. It was a big, busy job that you were very passionate about.

But then came the emotions and cravings, not anger or frustration like Sarah’s mother, but you cried, and you cried a lot. The alarm bells should of gone off when he found you one night in the kitchen after everyone had gone to bed. You were sitting at the counter crying, no you had been sobbing, and Joel feared the worst until you blubbered out that you just really, really wanted ice cream.

Him finding you like that only embarrassed you more, adding to the water works as he dragged you in for a tight hug, smoothing his hands up and down your back.

“I-I think I’m just PMSing.” You hiccuped bashfully, hiding your face against his chest as he kissed the brown of your head.

“It’s okay, we will go get some tomorrow, it’s Saturday and we can take Sarah with us to the little parlor in town.”

Two months in to your sudden changes is when it all came to a head, he wasn’t being nosy, had actually just walked into the house about to announce himself when he heard you on the phone.

“I don’t know Jenny, works been stressful, I definitely haven’t been eating right and I just don’t have the energy to go to the gym like I use to. Hell even my periods plying hide and seek with me. I thought about making a doctors appointment-“

Whatever else you say is lost on him as he stops dead in his tracks, his muscles tensing and mouth drying up. He makes his legs move, taking him around the corner and into the kitchen. You don’t notice him at first, giving him the perfect opportunity to just look at you, to really look at you.

At the sake of sounding corny… You really were glowing, face a little rounder, body filling out in different ways, curves softening under your clothing. The changes were slight, not so prominent yet, but he can see it.

His heart speeds up, emotions rolling through him like the ocean in a storm.

You are pregnant.

Walking closer he catches your attention, making you crack a wide smile that has his knees going weak. “Hey, Jenny, Joel just got home I’ll talk to you later… love you too, bye.”

Setting the phone down, you go to stand but Joel’s in front of you, dropping to his knees and capturing your hips in his hands. You let out a startled yelp, hands coming to rest on his arms squeezing gently.

“As adventurous as I am, I don’t think the kitchen is t-.”

“We need to talk.” His serious expression extinguishes your excitement, panic flashing through you instantly.

“What’s wrong? Is Sarah okay? Tommy?”

“Yes, they are fine, we need… we need to talk about you.”

“Me? Honey I’m fine, what do you mean?” Nervous laughter bubbles up in your throat, mind racing in every possible direction this conversation could go.

Joel rolls his lips together, glancing to your stomach then back to you. Your face is contorted with confusion, your grip tightening on his arms. “When… how long has it been since you’re last period?”

You scoff at his question, eyes rolling slightly as your posture relaxes. “Baby I don’t know, I haven’t been tracking it like I usually do. Between Carol and Tray calling out of work I’ve been given both of their projects to present, that’s two on top of my other two. And -.” You roll your eyes, temper rising, “and get this, two of them are so within three hours of each other, now how in the world am I supposed to-.”

“Darlin’.” Joel cuts off your rambling, one large hand shifting to your softer stomach, rubbing slow circles as he watches the confusion melt into realization and then back to panic as your eyes drop to your stomach.

“N-no… no Joel we.. we always use condoms.”

He gives you a look that says you’re lying through your teeth, which you are, there has been a few times over the past couple of months, after you’ve both had one to many drinks where you’ll wake up in the morning, slick between your thighs.

Joel watches your face pale, body shaking in his grasp and he pulls you a little closer with the hand on your hip. “How long?”

Swallowing you finally look at his face, his eyebrows furrowed slightly, expression pinched with… worry? Upset? Is he scared? Your own fears rise eyes flicking between his and something in his chest cracks open at the look on your face.

“M-maybe two months… I-I really don’t k-know.”

He nods, rubbing slow circles into your stomach, already knowing but needing to be sure. “Let’s take a trip to the store okay?”

*~*~*~*~*~*

You’re both quiet sitting on Joel’s bed, two positive pregnancy tests laying in between you. You are fighting back tears, stiff and trembling, waiting on Joel to blow up.

You’ve only been dating for three years, kids have never been a topic of discussion seeing as Joel already has Sarah, he’s been through the baby phase. Then there’s the fact you don’t officially live with him, though you’re apartment in the city is only visited when you need to do laundry. Almost every moment of the day is in this house or at work… does that me this will change everything?

“I’m… I’m so sorry Joel.” You finally whisper, fat tears rolling down your cheeks.”

“What?”

“I should… I should of been on the pill, I should of been more careful… I didn’t mean to do this to you.” The absolute devastation in your voice makes Joel move, kneeling down in front of you like earlier, this time his hands are on your waist, thumbs stroking the sides of your changing belly.

“Don’t you dare talk like that, you didn’t do anything to me. Yes I’m scared, I’m scared shitless but fuck baby… I’m over the moon.” Your watery eyes dart to his and he’s smiling, joy shining in his soft drown eyes making something inside your body relax for the first time in hours. “Now… I know-I know we didn’t plan this but I mean… This is us. This right here.” He leans forward, pressing his lips to your stomach making you giggle breathlessly. “This is a part of me and a part of you that… God it’s so wonderful and you’re so wonderful and I love you so much, I love this so much.”

Tears brim his own beautiful eyes, hands gently squeezing your sides, curling into the fabric of your tank top as he searches your tear streaked face. “You my sweet girl, are going to be the most amazing mother.”

Whatever reservations, whatever doubts you were holding onto flood from your body with the shaky breath that escapes through your trembling lips, and without thought you lean down, capturing his lips in a kiss, one that pours every little emotion you don’t know how to communicate into him.

Joel stands, lips never leaving yours and pushes you back gently onto the bed, fitting himself between your legs as the kiss slowly turns hungry. You’re burning from the inside out, tears still escaping down your cheeks, as Joel settles himself over you, mindful of his weight.

“Shhh don’t cry honey.” He breaths, lips moving down to your jaw, working the skin with sloppy kisses.

You tilt your head back, body thrumming with sudden need. “H-happy tears.” You manage to squeak out, hands tugging at his t-shirt wantonly. “Joel… I want you, please I want you.” You beg, arching your back pressing your hips up against him searching for some form of friction.

“I know baby, just relax. I’ll take good care of you.” He mumbles against your throat, a hand finding your pajama shorts and tugging them down, exposing your bare cunt to the cold air. He sits back, pulling your shorts over your ankles with a low growl. “Fuck baby, you’re so wet for me already.” Joel swipes a fingers through your folds, gathering your juices and circling your clit.

You whine into the air, closing your eyes as another pulse of arousal shoots through you, heart hammering against your ribs. “Please… Don’t tease me please.” The tears now streaming down your cheeks are out of desperation, your hands finding his belt and yanking at the worn leather.

Joel only chuckles with a shake his head, helping you unbuckle the belt and open his jeans, shoving them down far enough for his cock to spring free. You groan at the sight, letting your legs fall further open as you grab a fist full of his t-shirt pulling him to you.

“Need my cock that bad baby? Can’t wait any longer?” He groans as he runs the tip along your soaked folds, bumping your swollen bud making your hips jerk.

You shake your head, watching his cock as he slowly presses the head into your opening, your lip caught between your teeth.

“Hey,” Joel’s fingers find your chin, lifting your gaze to his and he feels like he might blow his load then and there. Your eyes simmer with pure lust… pure list and want and love and your looking up at his through your long lashes making his breath hitch in his chest. “Eyes on me when I fuck you, wanna see that pretty face when I make you cum.”

“Y-Yes sir.” You nod weakly, head resting back on the pillows as you hook your ankles around his waist.

“What a good girl you are.” He slowly thrusts in, savoring how you stretch around him, always so tight and warm. A low moan falls from your lips, legs tightening around him encouraging him to go deeper and he obeys, sinking into you completely.

You both stay still for a moment, breaths labored and hearts pounding. Joel keeps himself propped up with one hand, the other pushing your shirt up just under your breasts, finding its place on your small bump.

Joel pulls out half way before sinking back in, moaning and closing his eyes briefly as he finds his pace, deep and slow making your eyes roll and body languid below his. You can feel each bump and ridge of his cock, rubbing your walls in just the right way that your orgasm builds quickly. “So pretty, always wanted to put a baby in you, never thought I’d get the chance.” Your pussy squeezes around him your soft whimpers follow. “Yeah? You like that?”

“F-fuck… yes Joel… yes.” Your grip tightens on his shirt, anchoring yourself to him as pressure begins to build in the base of your spine.

His voice drops, the timbre in his drawl making your blood thick in your veins, head heavy and empty. “Just gonna have ta’ keep you pregnant then, barefoot in ma kitchen, swollen with all my babies.” Joel’s thrusts speed up, his mental image of you driving him closer and closer to his own orgasm. “I need to feel you cum for me, cum on my cock baby.”

His fingers find your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles and you nearly scream, the pressure radiating out into your abdomen pulling your muscles tight. You nod feverishly, panting out some form of yess and please, teetering on the cusp of oblivion, just for him.

Joel groans, eyebrows drawn together and thrusts turning sloppy, he can feel your pussy spasming around him and he knows he won’t last much longer.

“Let it go baby, let it happen, cum on my dick like the good girl you are.”

And it snaps, the tension flooding from your body as your orgasm erupts, a silent scream forming your lips into that perfect O shape that Joel loves so much, and as your cunt clenches down on him he stills, rope after rope of thick cum painting your quivering walls. He moans loud and deep, a shudder raking through his body as his eyes close and he basks in the euphoria washing through him.

Your legs shake around his twitching hips, whining pitchy and out of breath and Joel finally moves his fingers from your sensitive clit, splaying his hand across your stomach.

“You’re gonna be such a good mama.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

You both wait until after your first doctors appointment to tell Sarah and Tommy, over a lovely family meal.

“This is so good.” Sarah mumbles out around a mouth full of homemade lasagna making everyone laugh.

“Thank you, it’s my mamas recipe.” Joel’s eyes lock with yours, a smile tugging at his lips as your heart pounds in your ears, ready to spill the beans like you’ve planted. “I hope one day I can pass it on to you and your little sibling.”

It takes Sarah a minute, but Tommy stops eating immediately, his eyes growing wide, head wiping up to look between you and his brother, the smile that spreads across his face makes your heart warm.

“Ooo I’d love to try and cook it with you some time, I like learning new…” The realization dawns on her then, her jaw dropping open, shock taking over her expression and Joel can’t help but laugh.

“Really?” Sarah turns to you, and you’re already nodding, tears filling your eyes at the same time hers do. “I’m going to be a sister?”

“Oh honey…” She’s out of her chair and crashing into your open arms in an instant, crying against your chest as you bury your face into her curls, holding on tightly.

Tommy embraces Joel, patting his back roughly as Joel beams, watching his two girls over Tommy’s shoulder. This moment, this instances is all he’s ever dreamt of.

[toxicanonymity]

ring doorbell 🚪

5400 words, stepdad!Joel x f!reader

stepdad master

Summary: Joel holds it together at a Christmas party, only to show up at your apartment later. WARNINGS: I8+ stepcest, toxic fluff, f masturbation, party-typical alcohol, angst, reader dacryphilia, grinding, unsafe P in V INTERCOURSE FINALLY ❤️‍🔥 (he's clean, I tested him myself), pulling out (this time), big mess of cum. A/N: dedicated to @gracieispunk 🤍 (bc he's always been her #1) and all of stepdad's fans ✊💦

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Note: not a big deal but white elephant gift /party explanation if you don't know

This is the wk before Xmas week like 12/16/23 yes the whole fic is mildly in the future lmao the exorcist comes out this October.

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You still haven't snapchatted Joel back. After he sends nothing one day, you think about it a lot. You want to send him your own, but you can't decide what to send. You never used to overthink it, but after all this, whatever you send feels like a big deal. The next day, you're lounging on your bed thinking about it when you get a notification.  

[Snapchat: J. has shared a photo with you] 

You've gotten yourself off to Joel's snaps so many times  that as soon as you get the notification, you're throbbing.  You’re also relieved–after going a whole day with nothing from him, you were getting anxious.  It's a rainy day and you're doing nothing, so you get out your silicone Joel but it’s dead.  You change the batteries, silently thanking Joel for his foresight, and fold a towel under you.  Before you open his Snapchat, you get yourself close with nothing but your imagination. 

You imagine him showing up at your door, eyelids red, cheeks still wet with tears, unable to speak he's so desperate for you. Latching onto your lips as he barges into your apartment, hands cradling your head, pulling your face into his. Kissing you like he's starving.  Taking off each other's clothes on the way to your room without a single word spoken until he's on your bed and rasps "I fuckin' need you right now" as he gets between your legs. Tangling your fingers in his hair as his bare chest hovers over yours and his cock hangs heavily onto your mound until he reaches down and puts it where you need it.  His lips on yours again. His tongue pushing into your mouth as he pushes his cock into you.  Your legs wrapping around him as your body swallows his length. Joel pounding into you, moaning that moan you've heard so many times now, his skin against yours, thrusting into you, approaching that moment where he'll give you the biggest load you could imagine. 

At this point, you open the snap, and it's not what you expect. 

Photo: Close-up selfie of his face and bare shoulders. His shoulders are so muscular and tan that it takes you a moment to realize his head is resting on your pillow, in your room (at their house). His eyes are large and his brow is furrowed. He looks tired. Caption: Hope this is okay.  

A lewd snap could follow any minute, but the first one makes you cum.  Just the sight of his face, the face that would be right up against yours with that big, hard, beautiful cock finally inside you. Fuck. You keep staring at his face the whole time you cum.  You almost kiss your fucking phone.  This has gotten that out of hand.  You leave it on read.  It's sweet how he's being careful, almost timid.  But at the same time, bold to go into your room.  Hope this is ok.  You fall asleep, and when you wake up, there's another photo from him, just four minutes earlier. 

Photo (82 min after the first one): Close-up selfie on his side, hair is tousled. Arm looking huge. Eyes weak. Hugging one of your pillows.  The corner is covering his chin and mouth. Caption: Good nap.  

He just wanted to take a nap in your room? Your heart flutters, which is a little uncomfortable, like it's easier when he's just nasty. But you can't deny you like this sweet side of him. He doesn't know it, but you basically just took a nap together.

—------

The next morning, Joel sends another Snapchat.

Video: He's in your bed again, laying on his side shirtless with strong shoulders, muscle cleavage, and sleepy eyes as if he slept there all night. His voice is hushed. "Mornin', beautiful” (he yawns) “So about tonight . . .I'm not gonna make it weird, ok? I'll act normal."

Video (less than a minute later): He's in the same position but holding his phone further out and at an angle and your covers are pulled down so you can see a lot more of his torso. He says, "Hope you're still comin'." 

Later that day

Photo: Mirror selfie in a red and white fair isle sweater and a mostly straight face but his eyes are a little sad. Caption: See? Normal. 

There's a family Christmas party, and you're anxious despite Joel's assurances. Can you act normal? You haven't tried in person since that night with Jacques. If Joel is finally as willing as he seems, for some reason, that makes you nervous. For months now, you've been trying to break him down, often thinking it might never happen. Even with his dick pressed right up against your leggings on Thanksgiving, it felt far away. Now after weeks of no physical contact, it feels closer than ever. And as much as you wanna make your move on Mr. Cant-believe-he-ever-turned-you-down, you're unexpectedly anxious. 

—------

When you get to your cousin's house, both Joel’s SUV and your Mom's car are there.  A small mob greets you at the door.  One of your aunts takes your white elephant gift off your hands. Joel is nearby, quietly sipping a drink.  Looking over another aunt's shoulder as she hugs you, you can see how the sweater hugs Joel's biceps and has polar bears in the pattern.  Does he have to be so cute? As you finish hugging them hello, Joel puts down his drink and tacks himself onto the end of the hug train. 

He looks you in the eye with a subtle smile – sad but hopeful.  He lifts both his arms, meaning this is a full hug and your arms will go around his waist. As you get closer, his scent hits you and you have to physically stop your eyes from closing in pleasure as you inhale through your nose. When you first touch, there's a literal spark. Static electricity. You gasp and he chuckles. Not to be deterred, his scruff brushes your cheek as his big arms wrap around you and squeeze.  This brief moment might be the coziest you've felt all winter. You loosely embrace his waist, and when you pull back, he lets you go. You share a loaded glance, his eyes falling to your mouth as he wets his lips. An aunt comes to beckon you to the kitchen. 

When you glance back over your shoulder, Joel adjusts his glasses and awkwardly hovers near the door. He’s wearing khakis, and his sweater is bunched up above his ass.  Your aunt turns to say something to you and you whip your head back around and say "sorry."  

In the kitchen, your Mom says she feels like she hasn’t seen you in forever. “Sorry I didn’t get to meet Jacques. Joel said I just missed him.”  Joel comes and stands in the door frame, drinking out of his solo cup. 

“That was weeks ago,” you say, not feigning warmth.  

She asks if Jacques is still in the picture, and you shake your head no.  When you glance at Joel, he looks about as satisfied as you expect. He helps change the subject by asking your uncle about golf.  

One of the kids yells from the other room, "Uncle Joel! play Mario Kart with us!" And Joel leaves.

You overhear Joel say, "No cryin' when I beat ya this time." 

Followed by an outraged, "YOU DIDN'T BEAT ME!"

Then Joel says, "Oww!" 

—------

About an hour and a half later, you go outside alone to the deck for some air. The yard is dark. There's a trampoline and a treehouse. You’re leaning back against the wood railing, facing the house.  A lot of the adults are drunk now and the kids are being put to bed.  You want to leave, but the white elephant exchange hasn’t happened and you don’t need everyone asking after you, wondering what happened, whether you’re okay.  You’d rather serve the time at the party. Preferably without being social.

You figure no one will notice if you go up into the treehouse meanwhile. You climb up and use your phone light. There’s a lantern up there.  You turn it on.  There are papers scattered on the floor with crayon drawings of monsters and people including a stick figure with what appears to be a huge dick pointing straight toward the ground and he's urinating on a crowd of smaller stick people.  On another sheet, there’s a snowman with stick people for arms and they don’t look happy. 

The treehouse smells like cedar chips and melted crayons. You can hear the murmur of the party which grows louder as someone opens the door. You sit and scroll your phone, confident no one saw you go up there. You think about snapchatting or texting Joel but wouldn’t want anyone to see it if he’s too drunk to be discreet. 

—--

A twig snaps in the yard.  A few seconds later, the ladder to the treehouse shakes under weighty footsteps and Joel appears in the little door frame. 

"Thought I might find ya here." Fair enough–you weren’t anywhere else. He seems only a little tipsy. "It's almost white elephant time."

You look at each other in silence. His hair is messy. He’s so hot. You can't help but smile. He stays there in the doorframe with his big hands gripping the top of the ladder. 

You break the silence with crude teasing about how he stopped sending you lewd snaps. "What happened yesterday, you didn't nut?" 

He chuckles and looks down shyly.  "Takin'' a break, I guess.  And, uh. Wasn't sure you wanted that stuff.” He looks at you again. “Cause you never reply, so." It doesn’t sound like a complaint, it just sounds a little sad. “Guess I got in my head.”

You nod in understanding then rest your head against the wall again. “Guess I didn’t know what to say.”  

He asks, "But you like it?"

You raise your eyebrows, impressed, and slowly nod.  You say, "I guess practice makes perfect, 'cause damn." You take a deep breath and spread your legs, a symbolic gesture since you're wearing pants. 

He groans softly, making you tingle.  "Christ . .Don't get me hard while I'm on this fuckin' ladder." 

You reach forward and extend your hand to bring him in and out of view of the door. His hand engulfs yours for balance, but he holds his own weight as he crouches into the small structure. Unable to stand, he gets down on his hands and knees and looks around and asks,"Think this thing is stable?" 

"You're the expert." 

He laughs, then it fades and you both seem to realize he's on all fours between your legs. He clears his throat and sits back on his heels. He looks at his watch. 

"Do you, uh, wanna talk? We've got a minute." 

You shake your head. 

"I mean, we prolly should," he says softly,  then clenches his jaw and his eyes seem to weaken when you break eye contact. Ugh, he's so hot and pitiful. You rise to your knees and knee-walk toward him. He lowers his voice, "But we don't have to talk . . .right now." When you've closed the short distance, you watch his eyes glisten and smell the egg nog on his breath. “Maybe later,” he says even softer.  He swallows then cups your face in his hand and looks at your mouth.

After a final glance to your eyes, Joel softly presses his lips into yours and you meet him with the same softness. It makes you lightheaded.  You’ve never kissed each other tenderly before, but it turns you on just as much as if he had ravished you. Because it’s real. He’s really into this, and he’s stayed into it for weeks without taking out any of his self loathing on you, IF he even still hates himself for this. 

Joel's tongue brushes your lips, then you hear the sliding door to the house open in the distance. Your uncle yells "JOEL???" and you pull away.  Joel pulls you back in for a few seconds with one hand behind your ear and another hand on your ass. His khakis press into your jeans and your heart jumps when you feel his cock begin to harden. 

"JOEL! YOU FIND HER?"

You pull away again. He takes a deep breath, looks you over, and adjusts himself as he turns away. The uncle goes back inside.  Joel exits the treehouse first then helps you down the ladder.  As you brush off your knees and butt, he says, "shoulda told me you were comin' out here." 

“Why?” you ask and he brushes himself off as well. 

He hesitates and his face falls.  “I dunno.”  His eyes look more like his sad videos, like his cool facade is cracking.  “I was lookin’ for ya.”  His Adams Apple catches your eye as he swallows.  He puts his massive hand on your back for a moment, ushering you toward the house. 

—---

Your Mom gets too drunk and goes to sleep in a guest bedroom halfway through the white elephant game. Not the first time this has happened. 

You're in a chair and Joel is sitting across the room on a sofa, manspreading. He rests his hand on his inner thigh and your breath hitches. You cross your legs, clench your thighs, and try not to stare, but you feel him looking at you from time to time.

Your cousin’s husband Barry opens the gift you brought.  It’s a sweatshirt that says Cutie. He holds it up to himself and spins around for laughs. Joel glowers. Joel steals it when it's his turn and smiles when everyone laughs. No one steals it from Joel. At the end of the game, you hug everyone goodbye. Your hug with Joel is brief. 

—----

In the middle of the night, your phone wakes you up with a Ring doorbell alert. It’s Joel. He’s wearing the stupid cutie sweatshirt. He adjusts his glasses. He rakes his hand into his hair and looks around in a way that makes you wonder if he might regret coming. You lie there for a minute or two watching the Ring feed, but he just stands there waiting.  He braces his arm on the doorframe. His biceps stretch the sleeves.  You turn your lamp on the dimmest setting and get out of bed. 

You open the front door silently and he steps back as you open it.  His eyes are a little red.  He looks dead serious.  He puts his hand back on the doorframe and the sweatshirt rides up enough to expose a sliver of skin.  His Adam's Apple bobs and he asks hoarsely, “can I come in?”

You look around outside then step back and let him in. 

“I can’t sleep,” he says as he walks into your dark kitchen.  He shakes his head. “can’t sleep after seein’ you.”  His eyes glisten. “Can we talk?” 

You feel your heart rate rising and wonder if he can tell how nervous you are. You’d prefer to break the tension physically, but apparently he has something to say and you’re gonna have to hear it sooner or later.  You turn and walk into your bedroom.  You stack pillows and lie down face up.  If he's not willing to get on your bed at this point, you're not sure if you wanna hear what he has to say after all. 

At first, he stands at the foot of the bed with his hands behind his head, elbows bent forward in distress. Your eyes drift to his exposed happy trail and the way his joggers hug his groin.  “I dunno what the hell’s wrong with me.” He looks toward your window and chokes back tears. Then he kneels on your bed. “You’re never gonna know how sorry I am.” 

“Joel, I know,” you say softly. “C’mere.” You offer space next to you. Instead, he gets between your legs and your heart skips a beat. He lies face-down, with his feet hanging off the bed. His armpits rest on your upper thighs with his elbows and forearms on either side of your hips and torso.  It turns you on of course, yet he doesn't seem to be making a move sexually. 

“I am so, so sorry,” he says. 

“I know,” you say again. “We can move on. I don't wanna keep talk–”

“But,” he says, then pauses and swallows.  His eyes are big and watery.  “I dunno if you get it. How sorry I am.” a tear rolls down his cheek. He wipes it and takes his glasses off.  You reach out your hand to take them and put them on your nightstand. He whispers, “thanks,” as he dabs his eyes with his fingers which only sends the tears to his cheeks.  

“I know you’re sorry, Joel, I get it.” 

“No,” he shakes his head. “I don’t think you get-” He puts his face down on you for a second like he’s dabbing his cheeks on your PJs, then he lifts his head again. While choking back tears, he blurts out, “I’m SO fucked up over you." He blinks and looks away and another tear escapes his eye. "can't even fuckin' sleep except in your bed." He buries his face in your thin cotton PJs.

Now you’re turned all the way on. You take a deep breath as your ache for him deepens.  When you don’t respond, he whispers, “I’m sorry,” then puts the other side of his face down on you, his mouth below your belly button. His tears are dampening your PJs. “I dunno why I’m here,” he mumbles into the bottom hem of your tank top.  Your hips lift into his upper chest once, as though adjusting your position.  He ignores it and continues, “FUCK, i’ve been tryin’ to give ya time.” He looks up at you. “Tried to act normal tonight.” He shakes his head and his brow furrows.

He presses his eyes into your tank top one by one to dry them without using his hands.  “Then i show up in the middle of the fuckin’ night,” he laughs softly at how pathetic this is. It’s taking all your restraint not to rock your hips into him. You’re wet, so wet. 

—-

“Stop. Just c’mere,” you say quietly and open your arms. You lift your hips again. He looks up at you and the distress on his face dissolves.  As he crawls up your body, his big, sweet eyes begin to darken.  He puts his forearms down on the bed on either side of your chest and your eyes connect for a moment. Your lips part.

“You’re so. . .fuck,” he sighs, then presses his lips into yours. Your mouth warmly accepts him. His lips move against yours and he licks into your mouth slowly at first, like he’s savoring every brush of his tongue against yours. Then it becomes needy at a sensual rhythm. 

With your mouths still connected, he shifts his body. The warm bulge in his joggers meets your clothed heat, and then, oh god,  his cock hardens against you.  He softly hums, "mmm" as your mouths move together and he swells harder against you. You're throbbing, aching.  For a second, you wonder if you're having a wet dream (you're not).

There's a different electricity between you now. You can both feel it – He breaks away for a moment and looks at you, breathing heavily, and you can see it in his eyes. He's not crying anymore.  He looks at peace.  He rests his weight on one arm, and his opposite hand slides onto your breast, slowly palming it as his lips move with yours and his growing arousal digs into you. It’s the first time you’ve had his whole body against yours. And fuck, he feels good. It’s the first time you’ve been on a bed together.  That one time on your couch, he said it was dangerous being alone.  This time, he's not stopping, not even slowing down.

He didn’t regret it last time you hooked up, but now there’s a different buzz inside you now. If he ends up regretting it this time, you could get hurt. His rejection never deterred you before, but this time, you feel like it could crush you. You're not even sure why, but you have to somehow acknowledge it before he puts his head between your legs, or whatever he has in mind. 

“You’re sure you wanna. . . do stuff,” you begrudgingly say and inwardly shame yourself for the tremble in your voice. 

“I’m so fuckin’ sure, sweetheart.” 

—--

That's all you need, because you can feel it in his body, too. There’s no part of him that doesn’t want you. Your mouths embrace again and only come apart for heavy breaths and moans as your hips and lips move in rhythm.  His cock grows even stiffer and his hand moves from your breast, down your side. His hands are so big and masculine, but gentle. There’s nothing hesitant about his movements. He grabs your thigh, and you bend your knee. He hikes up your leg and pushes himself harder against you where it counts.   

He slides his hand down your thigh and into your soft sleep shorts, his fingers getting closer and closer to the pool of desire that's begging for him. When his fingertips reach your cunt, you arch your back and whine, pulling your lips away as your head tilts up toward the ceiling. His mouth comes to your breast and dampens your cotton tank top as he tongues your nipple through it. 

"Fuck," you say between heavy breaths.  You've never wanted anyone–or anything–so bad in your life. It's a need. 

You run your hands over his hulking back, feeling the muscles flex on either side of his spine, and curl your fingers under the hem of his sweatshirt.  He takes it off in a flash, his white t-shirt coming with it. He takes off your tank top, then his lips return to yours, his cock grinds into you, and you sigh.  

He breaks the kiss and pauses. His tan shoulders look huge the way he's hovering there over you. 

His voice is weak and hoarse. "Don't want ya to think I came here just to–"

"Shhhh," your hips lift and you moan at his hardness. 

"Ohhh, God," he rolls his hips into yours and sighs your name. He dips his head and noses your neck, then murmurs into your skin, "didn't come here to fuck ya, baby."  His scruff brushes your cheek on his way to look at you again. 

"I know," you say.  God, you need him so bad. 

"Okay," he whispers, then covers your mouth with his again, kissing you hungrily. 

Your lips break away, then you meet his eyes and tell him, "but that's what you're gonna do."

Joel reads your eyes for a moment, breathing heavily.  Then he nods silently and a surge of arousal runs through you.  "Yeah," he nods again. "I am."   

You pull him down so his bare chest is against yours. He kisses you hard with a little bit of tooth, making your lips buzz and your nipples harden against him. He sucks your neck, and his rock-hard cock presses against your clit rhythmically. You throb violently.  Then he whispers in your ear, "'m'gonna fuck ya, sweetheart," drawing a moan from you. 

"Now," you beg. You lift your shoulder blades off the bed, pressing him up with your breasts and stomach.  You reach around to his back and hook your thumbs into the waistband of his joggers. 

"Yeah," he breathes.  You tug down his joggers. He kicks out of them and you observe the massive tent in his boxers with a pang of need from your core through your heart.  He urgently pulls off your sleep shorts, then says "fuck," and takes his boxers off, too. 

You take a deep breath as you stroke your clit and spread yourself open for him. He moans softly at the sight of your fingers at your glistening cunt. He wets his lips as he reaches between your legs. His hand replaces yours, and he sharply inhales.  He spreads your slick around your folds and gently rubs your clit. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Yeah, let’s go.” 

He gets in position and hikes up your leg again. His head falls, putting his messy head of hair in your view.  He watches himself align his cock with your entrance, and your breath hitches at the first touch of the smooth head of his cock.  He begins to push inside with a moan, opening you up with his swollen tip.  Your clit twitches. His hips push forward, giving you more of him, and his mouth falls open as he watches it happen.  You both moan as his cock parts your insides. It’s happening smoothly, without effort, and the stretch is delicious.

Joel pries his gaze away from where your bodies are joined. He locks eyes with you, then plunges to the hilt and shudders as he bottoms out. God, the way his cock fills you up. His eyes glisten and his face looks like he’s in pain, but he’s not.  You catch yourself holding your breath, and you exhale with a whimper. Joel stays all the way inside with his swollen balls against you and closes his eyes, his chest expanding with air. “Jesus, fuck,” he whispers. His chest is heaving.  He opens his eyes and tries to speak. “You feel – god damn. . . you're. . .(a vocal sigh). . you–" 

You cut him off by pulling him in for a kiss. He twitches inside you and you both moan. 

After a moment, he slowly pulls his hips back, then pushes in again. "Mmmm" he moans into your mouth. All the times you’ve imagined this, you never counted on the contact of your bodies and faces together.  You could never have dreamed how full you’d feel. Even after having him in your hand. In your mouth. This feeling is new for you. It’s like he’s shaped just for you. He pulls back, then bottoms out again and groans against your cheek. How is it already the best you’ve ever had? He retreats, then slides all the way in with a punch of his cock as he bottoms out. 

"That okay?" he asks like he doesn't wanna hurt you. 

You nod urgently, "Give it to me."

He thrusts into you harder, working up to about once per second, at first. Breathing heavily, grunting, moaning, vocalizing constantly in one way or another. He kisses your lips, sucks your neck, and lightly bites you as your cunt hugs his cock just right.  He steals downward glances at your body and groans as he watches his glistening cock disappear into you again and again. He gradually ups the pace and intensity until you're whining.  

"Fuck," he sighs, and you whimper. "Too much?"

"Don't hold back," you shake your head. "Don't you dare hold back."

"Oh, baby," he says, then slams into you with all his weight. You asked for it, but you're really not prepared for the other realm he sends you to.  "Fuck MEee," he moans. He pounds into you, grunting each time he buries his cock in your dripping core.   He snaps his hips and kisses you sloppily. Your mouths are half connected and half moaning into each other's cheeks. 

You moan, “Jo–” but stop yourself. 

“S'okay," he pants. "You can say it.”

“Fuck, I–”

“Say it, sweetheart”

“Joel,” you whine.

"Oh, Christ," he pants.

"Fuck, Joel, uggggh–your--"

"Oh, Fuck"

"Feel so–"

"Yeah," he breathes, slamming into you with his weight behind it. “Fuck, baby–yeahhh”.

You feel the pleasure building in your gut and core as he fucks you.  Your sounds must seem increasingly distressed, and so do his. They tumble out of the back of his throat. The tension in your belly tightens. He lowers his chest against yours again. Your arms are around his neck and his forearms squeeze your sides. He manages to fuck you so deep and good, even while he's flat against you. His hips move like a mating animal. 

It hits you like a ton of bricks: This is it. Every other man is ruined for you. How could anything compare? Your own eyes prickle with tears.

Joel tries a few times to say things, but every time it devolves into a moan or guttural sigh. He makes sounds you haven't heard before. 

"Ohhh, fuck," he moans. "I dunno if I can–" 

You open your eyes and the agonized look on his face puts you all the way on the edge. He must be close. 

"Give it to me, Joel."

He pistons into you harder, all his muscles flexing.  You whimper as your thighs tremble. 

"C'mon, baby," he whispers, then he grunts. He growls, "Soak me, baby–ohh–Just fuckin'––nnngh"

You sigh vocally and start to clench around him.  You moan his name, long and drawn out as pleasure seizes you. 

You flutter around his cock and he gasps, "oh, fuck." You gush and groan, your hips lifting into him, mouth hanging open, breathing and whining at once.  

He pants, "Fuck–(a low moan), I wanna fill–ohhhhh, god (heavy breaths). Sweetheart, i really wanna–ahh, shit." He bites his lips together, his cheeks puff out, and his neck vein flexes. You’re still cumming. He grunts from the back of his throat as he pulls out and slaps cock down on your mound. He presses his body against you so his cock rubs your still pulsing clit. 

His cock is nestled between your bodies, and he’s grinding into you when he erupts massively with a shudder from deep in his chest.  His pulsations drag yours out as his cum coats your mound and lower belly. He groans as he slowly, wetly grinds against you. He breathes and gasps for air, still cumming. His cock pulses so powerfully, a hot rope every couple of seconds. 

With the movement of his hips and sliding of his cock, the warmth of his cum spreads around your skin, settling into your navel, and he’s still cumming. The obscene mess between you is sticky and growing.  Then, even after his balls have emptied, he stays on top of you, hard cock pressed against you, empty pulsations waning for what feels like minutes.  He's so warm and wet and hard. He lies there with his weight on you and dips his forehead to your pillow, resting his temple against yours. You both have aftershocks against each other as you try to catch your breath.

"Holy shit," you pant softly. Once he rolls off you, you're already sticking to each other near the edges of the mess where it's drying. 

—--

All you can do is breathe heavily. His lips find yours. He kisses you deeply, then pulls back and hovers over you. He brushes tears you don't realize you're crying off your cheeks and his brow furrows.  

"Shit," he says as his thumb brushes your cheek. His eyes are wide. "You okay?" He swallows and studies your face. 

You nod confidently and look him in the eyes. He bows his head with relief, then gently kisses you again. You're terrified he's gonna come down and regret it. Your wet skin begins to feel cold. You look down. "Oh my god." It's so much cum. You're covered in it. It's all the way up to your breasts, at least. It's all over him, too.

"Oh shit," he says with a small laugh. "Gimme a sec." He gets out of bed. 

-----

Cleaning both of you up takes multiple warm washcloths. You really need a full shower, but you're so tired and just want to be held. 

You move to  the dry side of the bed. You'll deal with it all in the morning. He turns off the lamp and gets under the sheets with you. You face each other, and he wraps his arms around you. 

You ask, "What time do you have to leave?" 

"I'm not worried about it," he says. 

There's a long silence, during which he strokes your shoulder with his thumb.

Then you whisper, "What now?"

"Mmm….We do it again, and again, and again. . ." 

You look up at him. "Are you mocking me?" 

He kisses you.

"I'm trying to have an adult conversation," you mock back.  

Then he whispers, "let's go to sleep" and kisses you good night. 

—-------

His Xmas party look 😍😍😍

Distressed stepdad art 🥹🥹🥹

Thank you so much for reading and engaging. Your comments and reblogs mean a lot!!!! I love you guys. You can follow @toxicfics to turn on notifications. make sure your phone has push notifs enabled for tumblr.

If this is the first one you've read, I strongly recommend reading the series (it's not long like prob <15k total). there are references to it in this.

------

All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot

[deadghosy]

ੈ🎐༄˖°.〰˚✩彡

BEING BEST FRIENDS WITH AANG:

prompt: being the same age as Aang, mostly the avatar has it perks considering you two are polar opposites

🐚 ྀ࿓it’s dead ass funny seeing two 12 years argue who sheds more, momo or appa. Katara would have to pull you off of Aang before you slap this little Mr clean head ass boy.

🐚 ྀ࿓for shits and giggles, you have definitely got launched in the air. You were begging Aang to just launch you in the air. Because you always dreamed of it since you met this airbender.

🐚 ྀ࿓Aang is pretty much protective of you if you can’t bend. So if you are a non bender, you better believe this boy makes sure you are by his side at all times of the traveling. Even after he finishes the Hundred year war. He’s the avatar, of course there’s still petty ass people after him.

🐚 ྀ࿓now if you weren’t a non bender and had a bending skill of some sort, he is still protective of you. You could be a master at bending, and this dude will still make sure you are behind him in danger. You two are such a powerful duo when bending, now a good trio is you, toph, and Aang at all once.

🐚 ྀ࿓you two are basically platonic soulmates who are always found by each other. Like that one time you went to go shopping at a market, and Aang followed you secretly since it’s his job to protect you at all time. Or that one time you lost Aang in the crowd and he immediately found you by your voice in an instant.

🐚 ྀ࿓”I’m gonna kill that asshole…” “please don’t.” Those words basically describes your friendship with Aang. Literally after Aang got his grow spurt and he was taller than you, you better believe this now wise boy would put you on his shoulder to drag you away from fights.

🐚 ྀ࿓you are the chaos in the peace and he is the peace within the chaos. You two are two peas in a pond, yin & yang. You have your moments where it’s the opposite sometimes. But where’s the fun when you create the problems whilst Aang has to drag you away from causing more problems.

🐚 ྀ࿓smack his head…he dares you. He knows you do it for jokes. But this boy is tired of having red hand marks on his head and feeling the painful burn.. if you did one more time, he is actually putting you in rock time out. You could try to get out. But this airbender is making sure he is having a kick out of this.

🐚 ྀ࿓when training with Aang, he tries to go easy on while you don’t. Of course you care about Aang deeply like he does for you, but you ain’t no pussy. You literally used chi blocking on him cause he hesitated blasting you away with his airbending. At the end you had to smack his head for trying to not blast you. And of course he still didn’t learn his listen as he just dodges.

🐚 ྀ࿓Aang is very affectionate person, everyone knows that. So of course he is holding your hand, waist if you allow it, wrap his arm around your shoulder. He might not be that much of a touchy person, but it feels nice to have the person that’s like his other half by him.

🐚 ྀ࿓cuddles is a must if you or him have a bad day. Yes you once snored while trying to move away from the airbender in your sleep. Aang wasn’t letting that happen at all cause he pulled you to his chest as he falls asleep.

🐚 ྀ࿓random arguments with Aang is also a must as you two argue over the most stupidest things ever. Say for example, your favorite book was gone. So you accused Aang of using it for something actually dumb. Aang got offended as he dramatically gasp and blamed you instead for being so dense for not keeping up with your stuff. And that’s where you would tackle him and start hitting his head. Mostly smacking his bald head cause it’s funny😭

🐚 ྀ࿓this sweetheart of an airbender will teach you about his culture. Now if you are part of one of the nations, you teach him your nation of course. It’s like trading Pokémon cards for more Pokémon cards. He will probably do something so you can wear an airbender outfit, just so people can see you two are best friends for life. Literally.

🐚 ྀ࿓I can see you trying to ignore Aang for something petty, and Aang is not having it as communication is key. He will literally pick you up over his shoulder and put you down so he can talk to you face to face. He’s serious about you, so of course he’s not letting you be this petty.

🐚 ྀ࿓yk how Aang had his hair grown out, yeah you actually liked it grown out like that. It was cute and you told him that in confidence. At first he thought you were lying so you can make fun of it. But when he saw how you kept playing with his hair. He actually was thinking about keep his hair grown out like this. His darkish brown hair was suiting on him. He’d actually fall asleep with his head on you as you play with it.

🐚 ྀ࿓Aang will never forget the moment he almost went avatar state for you. All because you wanted to be reckless and almost died. A fire nation soldier tried to burn you alive, but you were quick to dodge it. While for Aang, he didn’t get a clear view to see if you dodged it or not. So this man’s tattoos glowed scared and worried. Mostly angry if you died as he was about to burn the solider. Kyoshi was telling him to. But that all stopped when you grabbed his shoulder. Aang stops to look at you and hug you tightly, his heart went back to normal sped.

🐚 ྀ࿓to end this off, you guys are practically platonic soulmates who are made to be by each other’s side. Aang agrees and you, you just nod while you stuff your face in food. And Aang eats calmly compared to you. So if you choke on your food, he is smacking the shit out of your back worried if you actually choke on your food.

[grims-sunshine]

🤍 Where I'm supposed to be 🤍

Summary: Tav (aka the reader) is taking care of Astarion after defeating Cazador.

Word count: 1.5k

Pairing: Astarion x Tav/Reader

Tags: Hurt / comfort; I think this is called reverse comfort? (When the reader comforts the character); lots of mentions of blood; Not 100% canon compliant but it's just minor details/ me not wanting to simply retell what happens in the game

A heavy silence falls over the crypt as Astarion sinks to his knees. You almost preferred it when he was still screaming. The current silence feels like a dark presence stretching over you, making it difficult to breathe.

You can sense that your other companions are just as uneasy as you are. Karlach uneasily fumbles with the handle of her weapon and Gale is biting his lip while staring at the gory scene in front of you with Astarion as its main actor.

They're clearly struggling to decide what to do now. So are you.

Your first instinct is to hug Astarion, to fuss over him and make sure he isn't injured, but you're not sure he wants to be touched right now. However, just standing there watching him doesn't feel right either.

"Astarion?" You finally ask, taking a small step towards him, carefully stretching out your hand like you're talking to a wild animal. He doesn't react. His eyes are fixated on the dead body of his former master in front of him, almost like he's waiting for Cazador to jump up and start mocking him again. Like the moment he looks away, Cazador will return back to life and continue to attack.

You follow his stare, seeing the multiple stab wounds and the puddle of blood he's lying in. No, that bastard is dead.

You kneel down next to Astarion, placing a hand on his shoulder. If he noticed you at all, he isn't showing it. You look at him, trying to make out any immediate signs of injuries. He doesn't appear to be hurt, but you do notice the slight tremble of his bottom lip and the way his eyes swell up with tears. You gently pull him towards you, wrapping your arms around him. Astarion doesn't resist, letting his head sink into your chest.

He's completely still for a few moments, then the previous silence is broken by a series of loud sobs. Astarion's hands grasp the back of your shirt, fists balling together like he's scared you'll disappear. He trembles in your arms and you pull him even closer. You run a hand through Astarion's hair in an attempt to soothe him, even if just a little bit. It's sticky with blood, but you hardly notice that.

"It's okay, love. He won't hurt you anymore," you whisper in his ear, your other hand gently stroking his back. He only sobs louder in response, but it seems to help him breathe a little more evenly.

You're interrupted by the other spawn approaching. They still appear in just as much shock as Astarion, eyeing the corpse of their former master like they, too, can't believe he's really gone yet.

"Well… What now?" One of them eventually asks, all of them turning to Astarion like they expect guidance from him now.

You look over to your companions, hoping one of them might step in to redirect the spawn. But before any of them can say something, Astarion loosens his grip of you, getting up with his back straightened.

He's still sniffling a little, but already looks far more composed than before. Or, at least he tries to look composed.

Perhaps he even manages to convince everyone else that he's really okay. However, you can't help but notice the slight tremble in his legs as he walks over to pick up Cazador's staff, and the way he's fighting to keep his voice steady while talking to the others.

You've spent enough time around him, observing his mannerisms, to know when he's putting on a show. As much as he tries to appear alright, in truth he's far from being okay.

As Astarion's siblings leave, his eyes trail after them, staring off into the distance even after they're long gone. You put a hand on his shoulder, hoping to break him out of his trance. "Astarion, are you alr-" He cuts you off.

“Let’s just go home. I've had enough of this place," he says without turning around, just loud enough for you to hear.

You only nod in response and Astarion starts walking, the rest of your party following close behind.

Nobody says a word on your way back to Elfsong Tavern. Yet, you grow increasingly worried for Astarion. He looks like he's barely holding himself together, while pushing his emotions as far down as possible. You can only hope he'll open up to you later, rather than trying to pretend the events of tonight never happened.

The moment you reach Elfsong Tavern, Astarion drags himself upstairs to the floor you rented, straight to his bed where he sits down, staring at the wall. You contemplate whether it would be best to leave him alone with his thoughts for the time being, or whether you should try talking to him.

Eventually you decide to just sit down next to him, quietly reaching for his hand. "Just so you know," you start, "you don't have to talk right now if you don't want to. But I'm here for you."

Astarion nods in response, ever so slightly squeezing your hand.

You don't know how much time passes like this, but Astarion eventually breaks the silence, almost startling you with how suddenly he starts speaking.

“Do you think I made the right decision back there?” His voice doesn't have its usual smoothness to it as he speaks. Instead, it sounds sore and raspy. He just sounds tired.

“Yes.” You say it wholeheartedly, not even having to think before you respond. Astarion made the right decision - Of that you’re sure. “You’ve proven you’re better than Cazador. You didn't cause others to suffer for your own benefit. You made sure he'll never hurt anyone again. I’m absolutely certain you made the right decision.”

Astarion hums, nodding slowly as if he's contemplating your words. “At least one of us is sure, then. I really hope you’re correct.” He sighs and runs a hand over his face. "I'm not so certain I did the right thing. But maybe I should trust your judgment while I can't think straight."

You squeeze his hand tightly, and he gives a weak squeeze back. “Give it a while for everything to settle down,” you suggest, gently. “Once you’ve had some time to work through all this, I’m sure you’ll see things have worked out for the better.” He just grunts in response, letting his head sink against your shoulder. You sit like that in silence for a while, and you can tell he’s on the brink of falling asleep.

“Hey, how about we get all this blood off you and go to sleep?” You suggest, running a hand through his hair. Astarion just nods, allowing you to pull him along and lead him towards the small bathtub in the bathroom.

You run some warm water and grab a sponge while Astarion sits in the tub. Under normal circumstances he probably wouldn't let you take care of him like this, but tonight he doesn’t protest as you run the sponge over his skin, making sure to wash off the blood still sticking to his skin. He even closes his eyes for a while, completely giving himself into the care of your gentle touch as you run the water over his head in an attempt to get the blood splatters out of his hair.

Once you're sure you've gotten rid of all the blood, you bring Astarion a towel, wrapping it around him.

He sits there and watches as you grab a second towel, using it to dry his hair.

As you're about to put the towel away, you suddenly find Astarion's arms finding their way around your waist, pulling you close enough for him to rest his head against your torso.

You freeze in place, only moving enough to drop the towel and run your hand through Astarion's still damp hair. Just by his expression you can tell he needs to be close to you right now, and you have no intention of denying him that comfort.

After a while of being together like this in silence, you gently nudge Astarion. "Let's get you to bed, alright? It'll be much more comfortable there."

Astarion seems reluctant to let go of you, finally agrees to it after you promise not to leave his side for the night (not that you would've done so either way).

As he climbs into bed, you lie down next to him, pulling him into your arms. Astarion seems happy to rest his head on your chest. He seems almost peaceful like this, listening to your heartbeat while you run a hand across his back with gentle strokes.

"Thank you. For taking care of me… And for stopping me from probably making a big mistake. It's good to have someone looking out for me for once," Astarion mumbles, sounding like he's on the edge of falling asleep.

You run a hand through his still damp hair. "Don't mention it. You would've done the same for me." You press a kiss to his forehead, catching a glimpse of the slightest smile curling Astarion's lips. "And I hope you know you can always rely on me."

Astarion nods, hugging you a little tighter. "Yes. And I'm grateful for that, too."

Soon after, the only thing you hear is Astarion's soft breaths as he drifts off to sleep. You can only hope the next day will be a little brighter for him. But if not, he still has you to rely on.

Thank you for reading 🤍

Title was inspired by this

[thecuriousquest]

Everything has a Price

Bisexual & Poly Yan!TodoBakuDeku x Fem!Reader

Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @chickennugnugnug @palesweetscherryblossom

Warnings: Yandere themes, SFW, implied kidnapping, isolation punishment, neglect, starvation, conditioning, bisexual & polyamorous TodoBakuDeku, dominant behavior, aggressive behavior, I don’t know how frostbite works

Master List

Request Rules

—————————————————————————

You realized fairly early on how to piss off your captor’s individually and combined.

If you want to upset Izuku, all you have to do is throw a tantrum. Cry, scream, kick, throw things. But you can’t stop even when he’s trying to calm you down. You have to bite the bullet, fight your declining energy because if you give in then it won’t work. You have to wail and flinch every time he tries to touch you, console you. If you do this long enough, he’ll end up in tears of frustration and sadness because you’re sad and he doesn’t know how to make you feel better.

If you want to piss off Bakugou, all you have to do is seem disinterested in anything he has to say. Every time he kisses you, you have to kiss him back and then look him dead in the eyes and say, “I’ve had better.” If he hugs you with a little squeeze, ask him, “Are you not going to the gym as much anymore? You feel a little weaker now.” Always talk to him with a lack of excitement. It will infuriate him.

Todoroki is a different story. He’s very unique compared to your two very sensitive captors. Not a lot of things piss him off. Throwing tantrums doesn’t work, and acting disinterested in anything he has to say or show you doesn’t help because he will just shrug it off and read a book or something. No, you have to hit him where it hurts the most. You have to do this one out of the blue. You can’t be arguing with him, you can’t be having a conversation with him before you say this. While he’s watching tv, tell him, “You remind me of your father,” and then don’t follow up with an explanation.

It will eat at him. He’ll sit there, wondering what you meant. He’ll try to ask you about it, but you just shrug and go back to whatever it is you were doing. He doesn’t get any sleep that night or for the remaining nights that week. It doesn’t work if you do it too often so space it out.

This is how you individually piss them off, though. Collectively, you have to target one of them when they’re all together. Don’t show favoritism. You have to verbally berate one of them in front of all of them, and it works even better if you attack Bakugou.

Deku loves his Kachan, and Shoto is pretty defensive of his boyfriend. Now all of them are mad, and you’re feeling very smug at having riled them up.

———

However, you never expected things to turn out the way they do when you suddenly find yourself thrown into an empty shed in the dead middle of winter. Bakugou pushes you in with a nasty snarl grazing his lips. He points a stern finger at you as you cower in the corner.

“Alright, bitch, we’ve all had enough of your fucking shitty behavior! You want out? You’re gonna learn to appreciate what we give you in that house, and you won’t step foot inside until you do.”

The ash blonde slams the door shut behind him as he walks out. You hear a bunch of locks click from the outside.

So, here you are in a sweater and jeans, curled up in a corner, trying to fight off the winter air nipping at your goosebump covered flesh. You’re very grateful for your fuzzy socks. You curl your toes, hoping to gather some warmth.

You can see your own breath in the dim lighting of the shed.

The sun slips in and out of the sky over the course of two days. You’re only allowed this view because of a very small window, not one you can crawl through. You could probably only stick your hand outside if you broke it. However, you don’t need anymore problems.

Stomach growling, shivering with the frost bitten air, you bring your knees up to your chest and hide your face in the warmth of your elbow. If you hadn’t made them so angry so often, they wouldn’t have stuffed you in here. Rebuking yourself for your situation is all you can do, and it reduces you to whimpers and sniffles.

The door opens, and you see Katsuki’s boots stomp inside. He throws a bowl of rice at you. Cocking his elbow back, sending it towards your feet, and letting the plastic bowl crash. The grains spill everywhere by your sock-covered toes, but it’s the only warmth you’ve gotten over the last few days.

Before you can even say anything, the door is closing, and you can hear him stomp through the snow on the way back to the house.

Gathering up as much rice as you can, you hold it in your numb fingers, letting the steam soak into the pads of your digits. You only eat it once the food turns cold.

Bakugou, Todoroki, and Midoriya keep you like this for what you feel like is two weeks. You’ve only been able to stave off frostbite due to the warm meal you get once every two days along with the hot bottle of water thrown at you every morning. Bakugou is always the one delivering these things to you because you know if you started crying to the others, they would just bring you back inside. He never says anything to you, tuning out your pleas for mercy.

He walks inside the shed with no water or rice to give you, and you clutch your angry stomach. Katsuki tilts his head at you, analyzing you, trying to determine what’s going through your head.

“There’s a nice breakfast inside waiting for you. All warm and fresh. You want it?”

You nod, keeping your nose hidden in the crook of your elbow.

“Alright then. Beg.”

Sitting on your knees, you beg just like the explosion hero taught you.

“I’m so sorry I was bad, Master. I won’t do it ever again. I’ll be good now. I swear, I’ll be good. Please, can I go inside and eat? Please, please, Master?”

He runs his fingers through your hair, ruffling your scalp slightly. “That’s a good girl. You gonna stop pissing us off?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Come on then.” He picks you up, one arm under your back and the other under your knees. He takes you inside the house, and you feel the dramatic change in temperature instantly.

Shoto walks up to you, moving a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “Breakfast is on the table, Snowflake.”

“What do you have to say to IcyHot and the nerd?”

You look down at your hands. “I’m sorry I was so bad. Thank you for letting me come back inside.”

“It’s alright, Bunny! I’m just glad you’re going to be a good girl now.” Izuku kisses you on the head, and you don’t move away from him this time.

Leaning your head on Bakugou’s chest, he takes you into the kitchen before setting you on a chair.

You begin eating, thinking about how everything has a price. Apparently, pissing them off has one as well.