#The choice to archive it is Certainly a Choice...
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I know the "underage sex" archive warning change will be (and already is) the subject of pretty much all the wank about this update, but I just want to take a moment to appreciate Appendix A too. I'm an acafan currently reworking my fandom history course, and I put that on my syllabus before I'd even finished reading it lol. I found it a really useful explanation of the logistical issues inherent in managing a huge, global archive. And I'd never heard of the fic language settings issue before, but it's an instructive example that I'll absolutely be using going forward. I'll still have to wait a bit for more people to see the update and share their thoughts on what they think of this as part of the response to the end racism in the otw campaign, but I certainly think they made the right choice about the archive warnings, and gave a well-explained list of reasons that it would not work. I'm curious what other people think about this part of the update, since it seems like that evaluation and the harassment clarifications were a major part of the force behind this overhaul
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I don't know how I feel about the decision to archive it, even if it has been inactive for a while, but it's called the racism-discussion-forum not racism channel 💀
For info it was archived(available to everyone on read only) in March as most discussion ceased in February, so idk when this screenshot is even from...
idk and idc what’s going on over there but there had to have been a better name for it than the ranboo discord racism channel right 😭
#Just wanted to clear that up#For anyone looking in the tags for a clarification like me lmao#From what I read it was a decently good space for actual discussion and learning#But I am white so idk how much my word counts#The choice to archive it is Certainly a Choice...#Ranboo#Also ik op didn't care but other ppl are confused in the notes so I hope you don't mind? If you do lmk I'll delete it 🙏
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Hey Ao3 what the hell do you mean I can look up fics in asl
#like I can imagine exactly how I would do this via weird Pictionary#but it’s certainly a choice#ao3 fanfic#ao3#archive of our own#who is posting under this language#asl#american sign language
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i will be for real with you all. the many variations of the "everyone should be commenting on/reblogging my fanfic!!" mindset (and its children, "and if you're not doing that you're a bad person" + "and i am directly tying that to my motivation to write/my self esteem" + "and if you don't do that you are directly harming my motivation to write/my self esteem") are all bad for you. i've said it before! and i'll say it again! there is nothing wrong with reminding an audience, whether it's in the notes of a fic or in a tumblr post, that authors like comments! calls to action are great! it's the anger that i see when people post about how they get no reblogs. or the passive agressiveness in posts about how people will like but not reblog. or posts straight out saying that likes mean nothing. that's the shit that's not working.
first off: it has to be said. you are not entitled to people's time or effort. it's a harsh fucking truth but it has to be said! you're not entitled to the time it takes someone to read your fic, much less comment on it. you're not entitled to a space on someone's personal blog. human beings are never going to do exactly what you want them to because people just don't fucking do things sometimes. and expecting things from the people that read ur stuff (or see your art!) is only going to create a cycle of frustration in which your expectations are continuously left unmet and unmet and unmet, and if you cling to them, you're going to build up that frustration and anger, and it's not going to go anywhere positive. prommy. it's okay to be frustrated with a lack of attention! but then you have to let that go. and accept that any interaction is because people choose to interact, which is more than they can be expected to do.
which leads me to the "likes are worthless" argument. first off telling people that you don't want their interaction is not going to lead to more interaction. second off what the FUCK are you talking about. i know people get upset when people like but don't reblog because it doesn't further their content's reach, but: what the FUCK are you talking about!!!! likes are an acknowledgement that someone saw what you did and they liked it, enough to let you know. isn't that the goal? with a quick reference to the above paragraph (you are not entitled to time/effort/blog space), we have to talk about the way that people structure their intake of validation. likes are good! reblogs get your stuff out to another person's audience, but that enables more likes! any interaction is interaction. and also:
we cannot be basing everything around validation and interaction from strangers. that is only going to do you harm. as i said, your expectations are realistically most often not going to be met, unless you don't set expectations; if you will only have good feelings about something if people give you a certain amount of likes/kudos/comments, a certain amount of reblogs, you're going to end up with negative feelings, because most times, you're not going to get that. and the same way that you build up anger and frustration, you'll build up anything else you tie to that: sadness, worthlessness, however you feel when you don't get something you want. you can't let that control you. you can't live your life with all of your sources of happiness and self-worth rooted in external factors. those things are great for a boost! but you have to love your creative work for its own sake. you have to enjoy sharing things because you enjoy sharing things. it is genuinely not a healthy mindset to hang so much on other people's actions.
and i get it! believe me! i had one big work a while ago that got a bunch of comments with every update and it was absolutely thrilling and i got hooked on that validation. and then it fucking sucked afterward, cause nothing else i did ever got to that point again. it's brain poison! for real! it's the same shit they put in likes on social media, and i'm sure we've all seen the articles or ted talks or whatnot about the dangers of social media addiction! it's the same thing! and what i had to do to get out of that was find validation elsewhere. start investing myself into my creative processes for the sake of enjoying the creative process. train myself into enjoying every bit of interaction i got, rather than setting a threshold at which i could enjoy it. and it's hard work and i have to do it constantly and it fucking sucks but i am so much happier with my fics because of it. living in that disappointment and anger is awful. i promise it's better to fucking. practice gratitude. i hate that shit but it works sometimes.
and also! it has to be said. as a fic writer + reader: the "likes are worthless, everyone should be reblogging/commenting on fics" posts are fucking annoying. make different posts.
#i'll say it! i would not reblog fanfic because that's not what my fucking blog is for!#and it's my blog. and that's why i get to make that choice.#anyway.#on god y'all those posts are NOT encouraging people to be proactive in commenting and reblogging.#your bitterness is Certainly driving more people away than pulling people in.#and i try SO hard to be sympathetic cause it's not your fault that you're stuck in that! it's not!#but you can't live like that. it's not good for you.#and you're SO annoying because of it. oh my god.#you're not entitled to those comments! you're just not! so you have to restructure your thinking to be happy with your work itself#and then to be EXTRA happy about whatever interaction you might get from it online.#and that's more net happiness in the end anyway. so.#sending love get better please. sick of these fucking posts#fanfic#fanfiction#ao3#ao3fic#ao3 writer#ao3 stuff#archive of our own#fic#fanfics#fanfic writing#fanfiction writer#fanfiction woes#fanfic comments#fanfic community#ao3 community#ao3 comments#fan fiction#^ visibility tags i want people to see this
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I do find it weird how KOA and Jane S stans have a sort of alliance, like it's the same side with one goal. Which is? So the Jane stans make out she respected/idolized K so much and took good care of her "little girl" and the K stans kind of give their blessing to Jane x Henry like they speak for KOA and know that's the kind of replacement she'd respect. Like if she'd outlived AB she wouldn't still be super insistent that she was his only wife? Or that Jane and Mary would. still get on when Mary v Edward started up. It's like they know it's not realistic but feel pretending it is good optics?
Right, I have always found that weird, too...you think Katherine would have been okay with it just being another of her ladies-in-waiting (that she seemingly had no connection to/with) that replaced her as Queen and was Mary's stepmother? Bold.
Yeah, I think it's honestly just vibes/aesthetic or living in the sort of...well, it was a bubble, or rather a brief stint in time of relatively rosy relations between them (although that's...exaggerated, for sure, Chapuys seemed to believe the promise by Jane for Mary to visit court was delayed because Henry wouldn’t do it until after Jane’s coronation, that clearly was not the case, it seems like it was an afterthought at best by how long it took to come to pass, she also doesn’t seem to have heard from them/received letters from them often), time couldn’t tell any differently, because Jane didn't get to be a mother for very long, sadly. I've said this before but it's likely if Jane lived most of them would hate her for supporting her son/'s claim over Mary/’s, just like they hate AB for doing the same for/defending her own daughter/’s.
#like it was not just an issue with AB as a person or whatever altho i don't think she liked her much as a person...#and then it probably went even deeper than that?#a lot of her defenders say she would have been 'fine' if henry had married another princess and wouldn't have resisted#but that's it's just that he was being ridiculous in his choice#and it's like no...i don't think 'i would rather be torn from limb to limb' would have changed based on the#status of a new wife that equalled hers?#it was actually charles v that told (idr who but it's in the archives) someone that if henry chose a princess (of his family.) that he#would not support katherine anymore and would instead support henry in his annulment#it was all about holding imperial power; mary really was the stalking horse used when he saw#henry was not going to marry anyone besides anne and certainly not another royal from charles' family#that could give him a stakehold in england#anon#*status/birth#ie royal parents
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Wrote a silly little story about geopolitical conflicts using minecraft mechanics <3 Can confirm it’s better than the minecraft movie xoxo.
“Being taken under a weathered skeleton’s wing and moving into one of the last mob cities free from the Brine family’s chokehold on society was supposed to be a clean slate for Steve. It was supposed to be his only chance to lead a normal life (sort of). And it was, for a while. Between the human village just above them reporting suspicious mob behavior, Enderian soldiers acting out of turn, whispers of the Nether’s involvement, and Oceanic tribes wreaking havoc on the surface, It seemed his past was starting to run faster than he was. And It certainly didn’t help that the son of the End’s most decorated general got framed in an espionage scheme to undermine Overworld political barriers. Now the guy was digging into Steve’s past to open up old wounds and Steve had no choice but to help him do just that.”
#minecraft#minecraft writing#minecraft fic#minecraft ao3#ao3#original characters#they’re so cool tho trust me bro#like what other story has a girlie pop victorian zombie this is an untapped market#minecraft steve#minecraft herobrine#minecraft enderman#minecraft zombie#minecraft skeleton#minecraft default skins are characters hehe#give it a chance hehe
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you should probably leave
pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader
description: joel is enamoured by his new neighbour, but old patterns will always be his downfall.
warnings: UNEDITED, slight age gap, slight smut, implied unprotected piv, protected piv, swearing, alcohol consumption, insecurity, angst, reader is given a birthday (she's a sag like me)
words: 10.8K (my longest fic to date)
date posted: 14/03/23
part two
(inspired by you should probably leave by chris stapleton)
OCTOBER 12, 1998
The weather was something that she was unsure if she could ever get used to. For her entire life, she had spent the entirety of the late autumn months dreading the first snowfall of the season before lugging out her extensive collection of knitted sweaters and fur-lined boots. Instead, her little archive of winter clothing was left in a cardboard box in her childhood bedroom, along with the majority of her other belongings that she had not brought with her on her grand adventure–if you could even call it that.
The University of Texas at Austin had not been her first choice of school, or her second, or third; she actually had never even imagined going to school any further than a few hours from her hometown in Pennsylvania, and yet there she was, standing in front of her brand-new home, sweltering under the harsh Texan sun as she struggled to unload her packed car all on her own. Well, to call it her home would be a pretty tight stretch, as well as to label it as “brand-new.”
The small bungalow-style house had caught her eye on a flyer in the grocery store, a listing for one female roommate in a cul-de-sac not too far from the city. It wasn’t exactly her dream home by any means, with an ugly yellow exterior and a kitchen that could certainly use an updating, but it she had recently been forced out of her own apartment due to her previous roommate preferring her boyfriend to live their with her instead and it was the nicest of the few places within her price range that would also accommodate the mutt she’d rescued during her first year. All things considered, it was quite literally perfect for her situation–plus her new roommate seemed to have been at least more considerate of her boundaries than the last, which gave her some hope that things might actually work out.
Y/n grunted at the weight of the box, cursing herself internally for enrolling in school and owning so many textbooks as she lugged it up the front steps, dropping it just inside the door. She couldn’t help but grimace as she glanced up, meeting the watchful gaze of Manny, his furry little head tilting curiously–likely wondering why she was making so much ruckus and interrupting his nap.
“Lazy ass,” she muttered under her breath at him, kicking the box to the side before trudging back out the door.
The next few boxes were filled with clothes and shoes, fortunately for her spine. She hauled several out, dropping each of them to the pavement of the driveway carelessly as she wiped at her sweaty forehead, apparently too enthralled in the work to notice the beat up truck as it turned into the neighbouring driveway.
“Hey there,” she turned to find a young man, his hair combed back to expose his effortlessly charming face to her, “You need a hand?”
She glanced down at the boxes at her feet, “I wouldn’t wanna bother you.”
A young girl appeared at his side, wide eyes peering over at the older female curiously. The man shrugged, puffing out his broad chest as he moved. Y/n almost laughed at how obvious he was being, only seconds after meeting her. The man gave off the impression that he had always thought fairly highly of himself, probably the quarterback of the high school football team, maybe even involved in the armed forces–the navy, she was betting. He crossed the barrier between the two driveways in two long strides, extending his hand out to her as he came closer.
“I’m Tommy,” he flashed her a grin, his accent coming out thicker than it probably would have normally. He glanced over his shoulder, motioning for the young girl to follow him into the neighbouring yard, “This is my niece Sarah.”
Y/n smiled politely, shaking his hand lightly, “Hi, I’m Y/n. I guess it’s nice to meet some of my new neighbours.”
“Well, Sarah, here, is your neighbour. Me, I live–”
“What happened to Stephanie?” Sarah interrupted, “I didn’t know she was moving.”
Y/n turned her attention to the young girl, “She isn’t, we’re just living together now.”
Sarah’s mouth formed an ‘o’, the gears visibly turning in her head as she formulated her next question, “Are you guys dating?”
“Sarah!” Tommy choked on his spit, “I’m sorry–”
“It’s okay,” Y/n chuckled at his response before turning back to the young girl, “No, we’re not. I guess she just didn’t wanna be living here all on her own anymore.”
Tommy’s shoulders relaxed, the mortified expression leaving his features in favour of one that she might have even considered relief. He shook his head at his niece, giving her a hard stare, “I’m sorry about her. I figured that she would have some better manners by now–my mistake.”
Sarah swatted at him, a pout appearing on her lips as her brows furrowed. The girl didn’t quite understand how the question may have been taken with offence by some, and was quite miffed by her uncle’s insult.
“No, no, it’s okay,” Y/n affirmed, “I think it’s actually a good thing that she knows about that kinda stuff.”
Tommy glanced down at the boxes, clear discomfort appearing on his features, “Alrighty then, how about these boxes?”
Y/n gave in, offering Tommy one of the heavier of the three boxes, while shifting the smallest and lightest to the young girl, who had been adamant in helping out. She instructed them to just drop the boxes to the floor by the door, not looking to take up much more of their time.
A loud gasp escaped Sarah, her wide eyes falling on the mutt, who had appeared to have been equally as excited to see her as he rushed over, tongue lolling out of his mouth and tail flapping wildly. Sarah squealed when he barrelled into her, a fit of giggles leaving her mouth as he brought her to the ground and began to cover her face in slobbery kisses.
“Manny!” Y/n groaned, grasping the dog’s collar and pulling away enough for Sarah to sit up off of the floor, “Sorry, he’s just convinced that everyone wants to be his friend.”
“I’ll be his friend!” Sarah beamed, reaching out and squishing the dog’s face in between her palms, “I mean… Can I?”
Y/n shrugged, “As long as it’s okay with your…” She glanced at Tommy for help, unsure about Sarah’s parentage situation. He’d already made it clear that he did not live next door, but had never explicitly stated who did.
“You’ll have to ask your dad, Sarah,” He chastised her, “Anyway, we should get out of your hair now, let you settle in.”
Y/n nodded, “Yeah, thank you for the help, though.”
“No problem, ma’am,” He winked, southern charm on full display as he stepped out onto the front step, “Anytime for a pretty girl like you. C’mon, Sar.”
Sarah begrudgingly offered the needy pup one more affectionate squeeze before following after her uncle, leaping off of the step and bounding across to her own front yard. Tommy paused, hand resting on the railing of the step and giving it a firm shake. His lips pursed into a line as he let out a small huh as the bannister shifted out of its place, then back in under the pressure.
“Yeah, Steph said there were all kinds of little things wrong with the place,” Y/n noted, “But hey, if it’s got four walls and a roof, it’s good enough for me.”
He chuckled at her, shaking his head, “You know, my brother and I are contractors, we could come over and help you fix things up if you guys wanted.”
She hummed, “I’ll mention it to Steph. Wouldn’t wanna just start making changes to her house while she’s not here, would I?”
Tommy hummed, “‘Spose that’s true. Anyway, I should go see where she ran off to, but I sure hope I’ll be seeing you around.” He shot her a cheeky wink before jogging back over to the neighbouring yard, leaving her and Manny among the mess of boxes in the entryway.
Y/n huffed, glancing around at the mess, then at the furry little beast at her feet, who waited patiently for her to begin offering him her love and attention. She rested her hands on her hips, shaking her head softly, “Well, let’s just get this done, boy.”
– – –
Joel grunted as he clambered in through the side door of his home, sighing in relief as he slipped out of his heavy work boots and dropped the armload of groceries onto the kitchen counter. He could hear the TV on in the living room, drowned out by Sarah’s yell of a greeting. He rushed to put away the groceries, sticking the brown paper bags in the recycling before stepping into the dimly lit sitting area.
Tommy was reclined on the couch, slumped into the worn leather like a pile of mashed potatoes as he balanced his can of Budweiser on his bent knee. He nodded to his brother briefly as he lifted the beer to his lips, hardly taking his eyes off of the football game on the screen as Joel plopped down next to him. The older brother leaned forward, pressing a small kiss to Sarah’s head so as to not disturb her as she worked on her homework on the coffee table in front of the couch before finally copying his brother’s position.
“The hell took you so long? You left the site the same time I did, and I had to go pick this shithead up from school,” he playfully kicked at Sarah’s leg, “plus I helped your new neighbour move in.”
“Supermarket was a zoo,” Joel moaned as he ran his palm flat over his face, then furrowed his brow, “What new neighbour?”
Tommy nodded his head back in the direction of the mustard yellow house, “Chick next door got a new roommate.”
“Uncle Tommy was flirting with her,” Sarah chimed in, not taking her eyes off of the math textbook in front of her.
Joel rolled his eyes, “Now tell me why I’m not surprised.”
Tommy shook his head, taking another large gulp of beer, “I know what you’re thinking, but this girl’s different. She’s not from ‘round here. Not sure where, but she’s got an accent. Canada, maybe.”
“You know what a Canadian accent sounds like?” Joel scoffed, knowing that his brother was prone to drawing his own conclusions.
“Well, no,” Tommy frowned, “But I imagine it might sound like that. Doesn’t matter, I think I’m gonna ask her out.”
Joel grunted in response, turning his eyes to the game on the screen.
“She wasn’t flirting back,” Sarah grinned up at the two men, her eyes lighting up at the sight of her father’s growing smirk and giggling as his own laughter came tumbling out. Tommy kicked her again, only this time with a little more force, “What? You invited yourself over there and were all,” She puffed her chest out and deepened her voice, “Anything for a pretty girl like you.”
Joel rested a palm on his belly as he shook with laughter, his other hand landing on the top of his daughter’s head affectionately as Tommy crossed his arms, sulking.
“I think she was flirting back,” he argued.
“She wasn’t,” Sarah reaffirmed.
Tommy leaned forward, “Now how the hell would you know anything about flirting, huh? You been doin’ a lot of it at school?”
Her face burned in embarrassment, sputtering for a response, “No, that’s gross!”
Joel frowned at her, shaking his head in feign sternness, “You better not be. Otherwise I might need to break out grandpa’s old hunting rifle.”
She didn’t utter another word, simply gathering her things in her arms and rushing off to her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her as the laughter of her father and uncle followed her every step.
OCTOBER 17, 1998
Just under a week had passed since he’d first caught wind of his new neighbour, and Joel had yet to even see this woman. He’d noticed the new car in the driveway, and he’d picked up on the presence of the dog fairly quickly, especially after he’d caught Sarah tossing some of the vegetables from her dinner over the fence for him. Joel hadn’t paid it much mind, he was far too busy to be concerned with some young girl who didn’t seem to be causing much issues.
He’d had words with Stephanie several times in the past; once for blatantly smoking pot on
her front step when they were heading out for the day, then for leaving her garbage bin too close to his driveway, causing him to back into it and scratch the paint on his truck, and then once more when she’d had a little get together that ended up lasting until 4am, when the police arrived. He would normally have called himself a narc for having the party shut down, but it was keeping Sarah awake and the door had been shut in his face when he went over to ask politely.
The day had been long, and normally he would have refused Tommy’s invitation to head over to one of the local dive bars, but after dealing with the shit-show that had gone on at the job site that day, he really needed a drink. Sarah was out of the house, anyway, having slept over at a friend’s house, so there was quite literally nothing keeping him away.
“Brother’s night, my ass,” Joel grumbled into his glass, glancing over to the corner booth, where his brother had joined a pretty brunette, leaving Joel to himself at the barside. He waved at the bartender, motioning for another top-up of his whiskey.
A figure appeared at his side, leaning onto the bartop to call out to the bartender. Joel glanced over, his eyes raking over her radiant side profile in awe. He shot his gaze back to the glass of amber liquid in front of him, then briefly over to the girl once more. His eyes narrowed in on her pursed lips, noting how her brows furrowed in frustration as the bartender migrated to the other side of the bar. She turned to him suddenly, and Joel whipped his head back around to ensure that he wouldn’t appear to be some creep–though he was positive he certainly had been.
“Is it always like this here?” She asked him, tilting her head. “I swear, I’ve gone to three different spots along this bar, and buddy keeps looking in the other direction.”
He cleared his throat, “You not from around here?”
She smiled sheepishly, “Is it that obvious?”
Joel chuckled, “Just a little. You gotta get his attention, be firm. Here,” he tucked his index finger and thumb into his mouth and let out a loud whistle, nodding at the bartender as he rushed over.
“Two vodka crans, please,” The girl smiled prettily at the bartender, then scoffed as he turned to begin pouring the drinks, “Shit, I guess I could stand to learn a thing or two.”
“It comes with time,” He frowned, realising that he may have implied that he was at the bar every other night, “I mean, not that I’m–”
She touched his arm softly, electricity running through her fingertips and into his bicep, “Hey, I’m not here to judge you if you’re not here to judge me, heh?”
He nodded, opening his mouth to speak once more when another figure appeared at her side. His smile dropped, taking in the sight of his next door neighbour, probably one of the last people he wanted to see on his night off.
“What the fuck is taking you so long–oh,” Stephanie narrowed her eyes at the older man, who simply turned and took another long swig of his whiskey, “Hello, Joel.”
“Stephanie,” he drawled, “How you doin’ tonight?”
She smirked at him maliciously, “Fine. Y/n, this is the guy I was telling you about.”
Oh, this is Y/n, he thought to himself, suddenly understanding Tommy’s instant interest in the girl.
“All good things, I hope,” he sighed into his glass.
She shook her head, “Oh, just that you’re the neighbour from hell, and that you’re a narc.”
Y/n tucked her bottom lip in between her teeth, visibly uncomfortable at the confrontation. His eyes fell to her mouth at the movement, wondering what it might feel like to take that same lip in between his own teeth.
“You keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night, Steph,” he huffed, praying to any god that would listen that she hadn’t completely turned Y/n against him.
Stephanie sneered at him, grasping one of the drinks from the bartop and stomping off, leaving a thick tension over the remaining two. Joel met Y/n’s gaze once again, noting the visible embarrassment on her face as she began to laugh slowly.
“Sorry about her,” She laughed nervously, “For the record, I know that she’s a little dramatic.”
“‘T’s fine,” Joel grumbled, swallowing the last gulp of whiskey, “You ain’t gotta apologise for her, she can feel however she wants about me.”
Y/n chuckled, a genuine one this time and Joel couldn’t help but carve the melodious sound into his memory, “I’m Y/n, by the way.”
He nodded, accepting the soft handshake that she offered, “So I’ve heard.” He noticed the slight furrow of her brow before he clarified, “I’m Sarah’s dad.”
Realisation crossed her face, “Oh, Sarah! She’s a real sweetheart.”
“Yeah, she is,” he smiled softly at the complement, “She sure likes you, and I’m assuming that it’s your pup that I’ve caught her feeding her broccoli to?”
Y/n giggled at him, “Huh, I’d noticed that he was especially gassy lately. Here I was thinking it was something in the water.”
Joel let out a loud laugh, then realised that he had not actually introduced himself, “Shit. Sorry, I just–” he coughed, “I’m Joel.”
“So I’ve heard.” She repeated to him, clearing her throat before turning to gaze at him through her lashes with a soft smile, “So Joel, is this seat taken?”
– – –
Y/n had not expected to have enjoyed herself quite so much when Stephanie forced her to go to the grubby little saloon, feeling incredibly out of place among all of the southerners. She had been hesitant to leave Manny on his own so soon after moving in, but the last thing that she had wanted to do was get on Stephanie’s bad side so early on. Then, she’d stumbled upon the devastatingly handsome man sitting all on his own at the bar, and her tune changed drastically.
She sat on that stool for the better part of two hours after Stephanie had fucked off, leaving them to become acquainted with one another. Joel had offered her another drink, which she accepted under the terms that she would buy the next round, and against his better judgement, he found himself doing a shot of tequila with her as well. She smirked to herself when she took note of the flush that had crawled into his cheeks, and how cheerful his dark chocolate eyes looked under the dim lighting of the bar.
Y/n had noticed Tommy in the corner booth, and how he had been blatantly pressing his southern charm onto the brunette under his arm in the very same way that he had to her, which made her feel much better knowing that he couldn’t possibly be that upset about her doing the exact same to his brother.
Her hand had come to rest on his knee, leaning across to invade his personal space animatedly as she spoke, her own cheeks flushing each time that he grinned or laughed at her words, and she had lost count of the amount of times that she had rubbed her thighs together or considered smashing her lips to his.
Tommy appeared at his side, clutching his shoulder in his firm grasp, “Hey Joel, you think you’re ready–oh, hey, Y/n.” His cheeks had turned red, one hand self-consciously rising to rub at his cheek, where the stark red lipstick stain had once acted as a trophy and was now an admission of guilt. Tommy pursed his lips, “Wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight.”
She shrugged, “Steph forced me out.”
He nodded awkwardly, unsure of how to save himself in this situation.
Y/n turned her head, catching sight of her roommate’s drunken attempt to seduce the bouncer before turning her attention back to the older of the two brothers, squeezing his knee once before sliding off of the stool, “Speaking of, I should probably leave, she’s gonna get us banned from here any minute now. It’s been nice, talking to you, Joel. See you, Tommy.”
Both men watched as she disappeared into the crowd, eyes trailing after her figure longingly.
Tommy huffed, “You think I still got a chance?”
Joel’s shoulders shook in a drunken fit of giggles, lifting his own hand to proudly show off the nine digits that had been marked into his skin, “Nope.”
Tommy’s jaw dropped, clear disappointment on his features before it was quickly replaced by pride, “Well fuck, brother. Didn’t think you had it in you.”
OCTOBER 31, 1998
Y/n wiped at the sweat on her brow, breathing picking up in delight as she turned the corner and the blinding yellow house came into sight. The sun had already begun to set by the time that she and Manny had set out on their evening walk, now settling low on the horizon and casting a golden hue to the world below it as Manny tugged on his leash, obviously also desperate to escape the heat.
A loud honk sounded from behind her, muffled slightly by the music playing over her bulky headphones, drawing her attention to the dark pickup truck as it sped past, Sarah hanging out the back window with a grin on her face as she waved dramatically. Y/n chuckled at the young girl, allowing Manny to lead her into a faster pace as they grew closer to their house.
She slid the headphones down to rest around her neck, pressing pause on her walkman as Sarah rushed towards them. The girl paid very little mind to the woman holding the leash, instead dropping to her knees and reaching out for the excited dog’s face, laughing as he began to lick enthusiastically at her cheek.
“Hi,” her gaze rose to find Joel as he rounded the bed of the truck, hand resting on the top of the tailgate as he tried his best to look casual, “sorry, this one never shuts up about that dog.”
Y/n smiled at him, warmth flooding through her cheeks. She’d only actually spoken to Joel a handful of times since that night at the bar, mostly simple greetings while Sarah occupied herself with Manny. Joel was too awkward of a person to try anything with Sarah present, and Y/n was too compassionate to question him about why he hadn’t bothered to call yet in front of his daughter.
Y/n shrugged, “To be fair, he never shuts up about her, either.”
“Oh did he tell you that?” The man asked, brows raised playfully, “I didn’t know you spoke dog.”
“There are many things you don’t know about me yet, Joel,” She smirked at him, “Oh, happy Halloween, by the way.”
“Right,” Joel raised one hand to stroke his hairy chin, “Yeah, you too.”
Sarah glanced up from Manny’s pleading brown eyes, “Dad forgot.
Joel sent a sharp glare to his daughter, then smiled sheepishly at her, “Not too concerned about a holiday that’s got nothing to do with me, anyway–this one decided she’s too cool for trick-or-treating with dad this year.”
“Oh don’t feel too discouraged, I gave my dad the boot when I was even younger.”
“See?” Sarah pressed, glancing back at her father, “You don’t even like Halloween, I don’t get why you’re mad.”
Y/n widened her eyes and clutched her chest dramatically, “What do you mean, you don’t like Halloween? It’s like, one of the best holidays!”
Joel rolled his eyes, “Oh don’t tell me you’re one of those people.”
She pursed her lips, “And just when I was starting to like you, Miller.”
His eyes met hers, curiosity pooling into the dark mocha irises as he considered her words. He almost appeared apologetic; could he feel guilty about not calling her? Y/n did her best to not appear too shaken by his lack of contact–she hadn’t expected anything from him the next day, but after two weeks and still no call? She’d taken that as a sign that he’d been a tad too drunk when he had been so shamelessly flirting with her, and that he had no intentions of ever pursuing anything.
Y/n was thankful when Sarah interrupted the pair, preventing her from spiralling into a nervous breakdown from her own inner monologue, “What are you dressing up as?”
The woman shook her head with a mischievous smirk on her lips, “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see when you come knocking at my door, huh?”
“No big plans?” Joel tilted his head, “I figured that roommate of yours would have you out on the town.”
She shrugged, “Steph’s out of town. Something about the drinks and the guys being stronger. Looks like it’s just gonna be me and my little guy here,” she gently clapped a hand against Manny’s side, “Well, us and a selection of horror movies.”
Sarah stood up, leaning into her dad’s side with her elbow, “How convenient, my dad will also be home alone tonight.”
Joel dropped his head in embarrassment–just leave it to Sarah to blatantly play the role of her father’s wingwoman. He refused to meet Y/n’s amused gaze, ears burning as Sarah continued.
“And he totally loves horror movies. He watches them all the time.”
“Oh really?” Y/n did her best not to burst out laughing, enjoying the sight of both Joel’s embarrassment and how confidently Sarah was trying to talk up her own father. She crossed her arms over her chest, doing her best to not make it too obvious how much she actually wanted to invite him to join her, but she didn’t want to display too much interest in him if he genuinely had none in her, “Well then maybe he should head to Blockbuster before all of the good ones are rented.”
She raised her brow at him, signalling to him that it was his turn to make a move, as she would not be making any more. He nodded at her, red flooding his cheeks as he tried to muster up the courage to discuss the clear tension between them.
Y/n smiled politely at them both, then glanced down at the heavily panting dog at her feet, “Well, I better get this guy out of this heat. See you guys in a bit, then?” She led the dog past them, glancing back over her shoulder, her lips pursed as she watched Sarah poke at her father’s side sharply.
The young girl smirked at her dad knowingly, remaining silent, though the expression on her face made her thoughts very clear to the man. She scowled at him, crossing her arms over her chest, “Christina’s sister is so right; all boys are stupid.”
The man scowled at his daughter, watching in silence as she moved around him without another word, disappearing through the front door without so much as another glance. Joel scoffed, shaking his head at her, and wondering how the hell his nine year old could be so goddamn right about the situation.
– – –
Joel wiped his hands anxiously across the expanse of his thighs, attempting to rid himself of the nervous sweat that had collected in his palms as he stood on Y/n’s front step, mustering up the courage to finally knock.
“The fuck am I doing,” He cursed to himself, shaking his head as he ran a hand over his face.
Y/n was younger than him; not by a lot, but they were still in very different stages of their lives. He wasn’t willing to admit that he genuinely did like her, and considering that she was still a young woman and still in college, he wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking for with him. Was it just some quick fuck that she wanted? Joel wouldn’t be opposed–hell, he was ashamed that he’d imagined such a thing more than a few times since meeting her–but he wasn’t sure if he could jump into bed with her and then move on with his life, nor could he expect her to be willing to just pick up the role of step-mother to his little girl.
Joel had woken up on October 17, hungover as hell and struggling to recall any of his memories from the night before. He’d forced himself out of bed much earlier than he would have liked, needing to pick Sarah up before her soccer game. The man had stumbled his way into the shower, blindly going through the motions of bathing himself as the warm water slowly began to remove the fog from his mind. It was then, as he had reached out for his bottle of body wash that he noticed the smudge of blue ink on his skin, and then jumping in surprise at the memory of the beautiful woman who had given him her phone number–the woman who had him laughing like he hadn’t in so long and blushing harder than he thought possible–the woman who he hoped was now lying peacefully in her bed next door, preferably all on her own.
The few times that he had seen her since then, he had thought about apologising for not calling and telling her the truth of what had happened, despite his embarrassment. He wanted to ask for it again, but every time, Sarah was there, making a fuss over the little pooch that never seemed to leave Y/n’s side. He wished that he were more confident in himself, more willing to speak to other women even if his daughter was there, but he simply would never be able to look at the young girl again if Y/n were to reject him.
“Shit,” He swore loudly as he turned to rush off of the step, instead booting one of the carefully carved jack-o-lanterns onto the pavement of the driveway and watching in horror as it shattered on impact.
“Joel?” He froze at the sound of the door creaking open behind him, smiling bashfully at the young woman as he did his best to not appear too guilty. Her eyes fell from his flushed face to the mess of orange at his feet, a surprised chuckle leaving her lips, “Damn, you really do hate Halloween, huh? Enough to come over here and start destroying my decorations, anyway.”
He sputtered for an answer, “I–it was an accident, I just knocked it off by accident on my way out–”
“Your way out?” She questioned, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the doorframe, “So what, you were just loitering on my front step?”
He scoffed at her, “I was actually on my way to apologise, but if you’d rather I just get lost…”
Y/n raised a brow inquisitively, “I’m listening.”
“I just–I’m sorry for not calling,” Joel admitted with a sigh, debating whether or not it would be best to explain exactly why, “For what it’s worth, I would have if I hadn’t washed it off by accident.”
An amused expression crossed her features as she mulled over his explanation, “You…washed it off?”
He shrugged and scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, “I did.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, as if she were trying to decipher whether or not he was being truthful, “Okay.”
His gaze shifted from side to side, uncertain as to what she meant, “Okay?”
“Okay,” She affirmed, “So what time did you wanna come over tonight?”
Joel swallowed the lump in his throat, “Tonight?”
Y/n shrugged nonchalantly, ignoring the butterflies that slammed at the lining of her stomach and threatened to erupt, “Tonight. You said it yourself, Sarah’s gonna be gone all night, so would you rather be home alone or come over? Otherwise, I’ll just be here by myself, scared and in need of a devastatingly handsome cowboy to protect me from Michael Myers.”
Blush spread across his cheeks, his hands coming up to rest on his hips, “I don’t know about ‘devastatingly handsome’, but I think I could handle some asshole in a mask.”
She grinned at him wickedly, “That’s what everyone thinks, but I guess we’ll see tonight, around eight?”
“Eight.” He confirmed, then glanced down at the mess at his feet, “And sorry about your pumpkin.”
“It’s alright,” Y/n smirked, “You’ll just have to work extra hard to make it up to me.”
– – –
Joel anxiously adjusted his shirt, frowning at himself in the window of her front door. Despite dismissing Sarah’s teasing by claiming that this was in fact, not a date, he’d taken her advice in showering the moment that he had gotten into the house.
He was aware that she was flirting with him, but until he had gotten out of the shower, towel sitting low around his waist as he wiped the steam away from the mirror and took in his shaggy appearance, he had not been at all concerned about what activities the night might lead to. Staring at his own reflection, nervousness quickly began to settle into his bones.
He had made quick work with the clipper, shortening the length of his facial hair after several weeks of negligence and leaving his lower face to be covered by a light stubble. He put a little more effort into his hair than usual, running a thin layer of gel through it while noting to himself that it was probably time for a haircut. He even took things a step further, dabbing a few drops of some woodsy cologne onto his skin; the bottle had gone untouched for two years, having been a Christmas present from his mother.
“Are you wearing cologne?” Sarah asked as she appeared at his side, face painted to resemble a circus clown, “I knew this was a date.”
“It’s not a date,” He argued, doing his best not to jump in fright at her appearance, “Shouldn’t you be out on the town by now, Ronald McDonald?”
“You showered, put on cologne, and you’re bringing candy? It’s a date.” Sarah listed, “And I’m Pennywise, by the way. Christina’s sister is coming to pick me up soon. She says that guys always dress up when she goes out with them because they want her–”
Joel grunted, glaring at his daughter, “I want you to stop hanging around Christina’s sister.”
Sarah ignored his comment, “Is that what you’re wearing?”
Joel glanced down at his outfit–a clean pair of jeans and an old t-shirt that he’d probably gotten out of a beer box or something, “What’s wrong with this?”
“What’s right with it?”
Joel considered his parenting style for a moment, wondering if he would be free of this headache if he had spanked his daughter once or twice in her life. Sometimes he forgot that the girl was only nine years old with how intelligent she was and how much more mature she seemed in comparison to other kids her age.
“It’s not a date, Sarah.”
She rolled her eyes, “It could be. Come on.”
Sarah rushed past him, leading him into his own bedroom as she began to dig through his closet. She frowned with almost every piece that she picked out, tossing them behind her recklessly and ignoring her father’s scolding for the mess that she had quickly created.
“Hah!” The girl pulled out an egg-plant button down and shoved it into his grasp, “I knew you had to have something that wasn’t that ugly.”
He grunted at her, but didn’t reply out of respect for her brutal honesty as he quickly shed himself of the worn t-shirt he’d previously been wearing in favour of the one that Sarah had chosen. Now, as he stood at her front door and internally decided for himself that this was a date, he couldn’t help but thank God for his daughter’s awareness.
Finally, after tugging at the hem of his shirt, he raised a fist and knocked heavily on the door. Joel choked on his own saliva when she appeared in the window, smiling sweetly at him when she pulled the door open. She had already changed into a pair of black yoga pants and a sky blue shirt that exposed just a tasteful amount of her midriff.
“Hi, again,” she breathed, a smile forming on her face, “You look nice, purple is definitely your colour.”
Joel burned, “I–thank you. Sarah picked it out.”
Y/n turned to the girl, who had already ushered the dog up onto the sofa with her, “Well she has a clear eye for style.”
“She definitely thinks so, that girl damn near harrasses me about my clothes everyday.” Y/n laughed out loud, Joel’s ears tingling at the melodious sound, “You look great, too.”
Y/n beamed down at her outfit, shrugging to herself, “Thanks, I thought about keeping my costume on but I wasn’t entirely sure how much you would be into Strawberry Shortcake.”
Joel chuckled at her, glancing down at the object in his hand, “I brought beer, by the way. Wasn’t sure if I should bring anything, or if you even like–”
Y/n reached out, snatching the six pack from his grasp, “Ever the gentleman, cowboy. So, you coming in?”
– – –
The house was filled with laughter, both having nearly finished their first beer as they shared stories freely. Halloween played quietly in the background, though neither of them paid too much attention. Y/n did her best not to physically melt when she felt Joel’s arm drape across the back of the sofa behind her, resisting the urge to tease him for attempting to cover it up by faking a dramatic yawn.
She brushed her fingers along the top of his thigh, smirking to herself as she watched his leg slowly shift closer to her, though he didn’t address the affectionate touch. He spoke to her softly, and made an effort to hold eye contact with her as he did to–she was starting to feel some guilt about the conclusion that he’d drawn about him after he’d failed to call her. Her own gaze continuously fell to his lips as he spoke, and she was sure that he had noticed by the way that his lips began to curl confidently. Her heart hammered in her chest, wondering how much longer she would need to wait before he finally made a move.
Joel, however, was wondering exactly how he possibly could make a move. While feeling confident around her, there was no way to escape the fact that he hadn’t been on a date in at least a year, and he could count the amount of women he’d slept with since Sarah’s mother on one hand. At various points throughout the night, he had considered leaning in to kiss her, but had successfully siked himself out each time. The first time, he’d been interrupted by the pooch who had been jealous of his owner’s attention being focused elsewhere, though he could only blame every other time on his own insecurity.
“Do you want another beer?” Y/n asked as he swallowed the last gulp out of his can, “Or I have wine and pop?”
“Pop,” he scoffed, chest rumbling with quiet laughter.
She raised her hand and slapped his pec as she stood up from the couch, “Fine, you don’t get anything.”
He laughed, watching as she disappeared into the kitchen and shamelessly admiring the shape of her backside in the darkness of the dimly lit living room. He sat there for a few moments, staring at the movie in discontent, sighing as he ran his hand over his face and murmured a nearly silent fuck it, and following after her.
“Is it too late to apologise and get that beer?”
She glanced over her shoulder at him, smirking as she shrugged coyly as she turned and leaned her back against the front of the refrigerator and holding the perspiring can out in front of her, “You’ll have to come get it yourself.”
Joel crossed the small room in two long strides, stopping as the can met his chest, though he paid it little mind as she stepped away from the fridge, pressing a fleeting kiss to his lips. He froze for a second, stomach clenching at the soft touch.
“Sorry,” Y/n whispered, though her tone betrayed how unapologetic she truly was, “Was that okay?”
He didn’t respond, quickly taking the beer out of her grasp and tossing it onto the counter as he cupped her face, capturing her lips with his and pressing her back against the fridge once more. She smiled against his lips, fingers bunching in the material of his plum coloured shirt and tugging him even closer.
His lips were chapped against her own, the telltale sign of a busy man who hadn’t been too concerned with his physical appearance up until now, though she could not picture another kiss that she had received in the last several years that would even compare to Joel’s.
One of his hands fell, fingers splaying around her waist as he pressed even closer, parting his lips as he felt the tip of her tongue prod at the seam and allowing her to seek out his own. He moaned at her taste, fingers wandering to her hip and hesitating, almost as if he had been asking for her permission to move even lower. She grasped his hand, guiding it around to cup her bottom.
Pulling away for air, she giggled softly and fluttered her eyelids open to find him already staring at her with blown pupils. One of her hands slid up his chest, tugging at the collar of his shirt before her fingers trailed over his patchy beard affectionately, “I don’t know if this is too soon, but do you wanna move to my bedroom?”
Joel chuckled at her, squeezing her cheek through her yoga pants, “Lead the way.”
– – –
Joel worried that he might have gone into cardiac arrest as he struggled to catch his breath, back slouched against the headboard as Y/n slumped flush against his chest. The cotton sheets pooled around her hips as she continued to move softly, working them both through the aftershocks of their climaxes. The man sighed in appreciation as her lips continued to slide against his jawline and leave gentle kisses in their wake, her fingers still lost in his dark curls.
Joel’s own hands squeezed her hips as she finally slowed to a stop, helping her slide off of him and smirking to himself at the whine she let out at the loss of contact. She shifted, moving out of his lap and curling into the cool sheets on the bed next to him.
“How was that?” He panted, “Have I done enough to make up for lost time?”
She grinned at him, her own chest rising and falling with her slowing breaths, “I think I recall doing most of the work, actually.”
“Bein’ on top doesn’t mean you were doing any work, sweetheart, I think we both know that.” His eyes fell on the digital alarm clock on her bedside table, grunting to himself as he took note of the late hour, “Shit–how the hell is it ten-thirty already?”
She glanced over to the clock briefly, then back at him, “Time flies when you’re having fun.”
Staring down at her nude form, guilt began to eat away at him as he began to slide off of the mattress and begin gathering his clothes that had been scattered around the room.
“Are you leaving?” His back was turned to her as he pulled on his jeans, though he could only imagine the look on her face from the emotion that dripped from her voice; she was disappointed, facing the reality that she would be abandoned after doing something so intimate.
“I mean…” Joel coughed, “Yeah, I should probably leave. Gotta work early tomorrow, and Sarah’s got soccer practice, and–”
“You don’t have to explain yourself,” She sat up, hugging her knees to her chest in an attempt to regain her modesty, “I get it.”
Joel couldn’t help but wonder how many times she’d done this. She seemed disheartened, but not entirely surprised at his decision to head out, as if she was expecting this time to be different from the others–as if she was expecting Joel to be any different from the other shitty guys she’d met since moving to Austin.
“Darlin’,” Joel cooed, coming to sit at the edge of the mattress and cupping her face in his large palms, “It’s not like that. I want nothing more than to stay the night, but I know that I won’t sleep a wink tonight if I do.” His thumb stroked her bottom lip as her mouth slanted into a small, saddened smile. He leaned in, pressing three kisses to her lips, each one longer than the last before pulling back, “Can I get your number? I promise I won’t ask for a third time.”
Y/n smiled at him, kissing him once more before snatching a pen off of the bedside table and scribbling on his hand, “You won’t get it if you ask for a third time, Miller.”
MARCH 12, 1999
Y/n sighed blissfully, gnawing at her lip to prevent any moans of pleasure as Joel worked himself into her over and over, his hips meeting hers with slow, meaningful movements as he did his best to keep both of them quiet. Joel wasn’t normally one for booty calls, though he had hardly seen her in the past few days and couldn’t resist when his mind had wandered while in the shower–and for the first time in what felt like decades, he could rely on the help of soft, feminine touches rather than his own fast and rough tugs.
Her thighs shook, teeth biting into the pillow beneath her face as she pressed her hips back against him and arched her spine in pleasure. She met his thrusts enthusiastically, fingers winding into the sheets tightly.
“Shit,” She gasped, “Joel, I’m gonna–”
“I know,” He rasped, “Shhh baby. Let go, I’ve got you.”
She didn’t hold back, allowing the white hot pleasure to run through her veins, muffling her cries in the plushness of the pillow. Her walls clenched around him, gripping him for everything that she could manage as he fucked her through it, head rolled back in pleasure as his own orgasm teetered over the edge. His fingers tightened around her hips, hauling her back against him a few more times before his seed painted the inside of the condom.
His hands slid up from her hips, one pressing on her back to force her to lay flat against the mattress while the other cupped the soft flesh of her belly to roll her over. Joel took in her figure, eyes scanning her face for any signs of discomfort before dropping to her breasts; the man was absolutely entranced by the shape of her breasts, eagerly pawing at them during makeout sessions and suckling at them with the utmost love and desire as he fucked her. She smiled at him tiredly, hooded eyes admiring his own figure as he slipped out of her, sliding off of the bed and disappearing into the ensuite.
When he returned, he wore a pair of black boxers and carried a maroon washcloth in his hand, carefully parting her legs and sliding the cloth through her folds, puffy and sore from his touch. He whispered an entirely disingenuous apology as he pressed lightly against her abused clit, chuckling to himself as she jumped. Tossing the cloth aside, he settled into the mattress next to her, sliding an arm around her waist and tugging her into his side, sighing in relief at the physical contact.
The rising sun had slowly begun to peek through the blinds, filling the room with a soft glow in the aftermath of the third round. Y/n glanced at the clock on the far wall, sighing to herself as reality settled into her bones. She hadn’t intended on staying so long, especially after how eagerly the both of them had initiated the first round, having allowed herself to remain at his side until she felt his member begin to grow against her thigh once more. Now, after taking him inside of her three times over the past six hours, she knew that she would eventually need to get up and leave–a habit that they both had and hated when they were finished.
She pressed careful kisses into his flesh, lips moulding to the sweaty skin of his shoulder and neck affectionately while her palm rubbed circles into his firm chest. Joel nuzzled his head into her hair, his own lips pressing to the crown of her head as he, too, appreciated the afterglow.
Y/n’s body and heart screamed at her as she finally pulled herself away from him, hopping out of the bed and collecting her clothing from the floor. Joel watched her with sunken eyes, his attempt to remain stoic as he easily recognised what she was doing proving fruitless.
“You don’t–you don’t gotta go just yet,” he called to her, desperation lacing his voice, “Don’t gotta be at the site till eleven tomorrow–”
“Today,” she corrected, “And that’s in seven hours. Besides, I don’t wanna fall asleep and risk having to run into Sarah. I should probably leave.”
He nodded slowly, continuing to watch her as she dressed and fixed her appearance, preparing herself mentally and physically for her four A.M. walk of shame. Joel wanted to call her back to bed again, to convince her to stay with him and promise breakfast in the morning, but instead watched helplessly as she disappeared into the dark hallway, and closed his eyes disappointedly at the sound of the front door closing behind her.
JUNE 2, 1999
Golden rays of sun peeked through the blinds, trailing up the length of the bed with each passing moment before finally gracing over the soft skin of the woman next to him. Joel laid in his bed as still as possible, one arm around her shoulders to keep her flush against his chest, savouring the intimate, domestic moment before it would eventually come to an end–it always did.
The alarm clock flashed the time tauntingly at him, as if mocking him for wanting to keep her there for much longer than he knew he could. This was undoubtedly the latest she had stayed in his bed; it was nearing six A.M. and she had yet to stir from her deep slumber.
His eyes trailed the length of her bare back, his fingers pressing gently at the indent of her spine as he pushed her body impossibly closer to her and bathing himself in the feeling of her nude body against his own. Joel resisted the urge to shake the growing ache out of his leg as pins and needles crawled up the length of his limb, too afraid to move and wake her–he knew what would come once her eyes had opened, as she had done it countless times now.
It was the twitch of her fingers against the soft flesh of his belly that alerted him to her growing consciousness, nails following the pattern of hair that covered his abdomen softly, drawing a quiet moan of delight from the man beneath her. He felt the curve of her lips against his shoulder, turning his head to meet her eyes as they fluttered open.
“Morning, cowboy,” Her throat was dry and her voice was scratchy, but her words still held the power of causing an eruption of butterflies in his gut.
“Morning,” He leaned closer, the tips of his nose brushing her own before she swatted him away, covering her mouth self-consciously and mumbling something about morning breath. Joel chuckled at her, moving her hand away and planting a soft, closed-mouth kiss against her lips.
Her smile grew, hazy vision flickering around the sun-lit bedroom as realisation dawned on her, “What time is it?”
Joel’s own smile faltered as he cleared his throat, glancing over at the alarm clock again, “Five-to-six.”
“Shit,” She groaned, a hand settling on her forehead, “I should probably leave. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
Joel shook his head at her, “You ain’t got nothing to apologise for. I like having you here.”
She pecked his lips again, fondness creeping through her at the man’s admission, “I like being here. But I should go before Sarah wakes up.”
Joel caught her arm as she moved to crawl out of the bed, “Stay.”
“What?”
“Sarah knows you’ve been coming around and leaving early in the morning.” He told her, thumb smoothing circles against her wrist, “She says she’s happy for me, but she said that she won’t approve until you start bringing that damn dog of yours over here when you come.”
Y/n chuckled, her eyes growing a thin red rim along her waterline, “What are you saying?”
“I’m asking you to stay. Every damn night you spend here, you go rushing out like this is just a quick fuck, but I think we both know that it’s a lot more than that. Just come back to bed, please.”
Y/n shook her head at him, glancing over at the rising sun through the blinds in contemplation before she finally shrugged, crawling back into the bed and settling against his naked form with a sigh, her hand resting on his chest as she massaged small circles into his sweaty flesh. Both of them relaxed into one another, enjoying the silence of the early morning and dreading the unavoidable fate of the alarm going off in the coming hour.
NOVEMBER 27, 1999
Y/n tapped her nails against the hardwood of the tabletop rhythmically, doing her best not to make her dissociation too clear as her friends and family chattered back and forth. Her mother was busy on her left hand side, sharing dozens of her favourite childhood photographs to Y/n’s friends with a fondness that only a mother could have, while the seat to her left was empty. The watch that she’d received as a gift from her parents sat on her wrist, the time ticking away as grief settled in her stomach, the realisation that he simply wasn’t coming eating away at her pride.
Her birthday was not something that she generally liked to celebrate, but knowing that her parents, siblings, and a few members of her extended family had orchestrated a trip to visit and celebrate with her had her counting down the days, especially after she had convinced her unofficial boyfriend to join them for dinner at one of the nicest wallet-friendly restaurants in Austin. Now, as she sat silently and watched as her friends laughed and cooed over possibly the most embarrassing photos of her while picking at their slices of birthday cake, her mind only wandered to where exactly he was, and how much more fun she would be having if she were warding him off of any of those photographs–especially all of the ones from her junior high years.
She hadn’t had the chance to speak to him at all that day, having woken up after he had already left for work and dropped Sarah off at school. At the time, Y/n had smiled to herself, thanking him mentally for allowing her to sleep in on her birthday, though she was beginning to wonder if she should have taken the lack of birthday wishes as a sign.
She actively avoided Stephanie’s gaze, wanting to escape the oncoming I told you so, and made as little eye contact as possible with her mother, who watched her sympathetically, and her father, who silently raged over the presence of the empty chair. Y/n now felt embarrassed over how much she’d actually gushed over the man to her family before dinner, wondering if maybe she was more invested in him than he was in her. After all, he had yet to officially ask her to be his girlfriend, despite the fact that she and Manny had taken up residence in his home at least four nights a week and that she had been included in more recent movie nights with him and Sarah.
Maybe she was reading into it too much–something must have happened. Something happened to Sarah, or maybe Tommy had been locked up again. There was no way that Joel had forgotten her birthday, there was simply no way.
– – –
Joel’s feet ached, crying out in pain with every step and sighing in relief as he finally kicked off his heavy boots. The crew that he’d brought on for his most recent and highest paying job to date had given him hell that day, leaving him aching for nothing more than a hot shower and a peaceful night at home with his best girls. He hated having to tack on extra hours to his day, but not arriving home until after ten was something that he would have to deal with in order to finish the job, and he was hoping to save up to take Y/n and Sarah on a little getaway for a weekend in the near future.
The kitchen was dim when he stepped in, and he was somewhat surprised when he discovered no plate of food left for him in the microwave, nor was there a pan of leftovers in the fridge. Instead, there was a single empty carton of a microwavable dinner on the counter along with an empty can of Pepsi. Not wanting to seem ungrateful, he shrugged it off, though he had grown accustomed to Y/n bringing dinner over and making sure that it was ready for him on days that he worked late.
Soft footsteps rushed down the stairs, Sarah rounding the corner with a wide grin on her face as she held a small piece of paper in her hands.
“Hey babygirl,” Joel kissed her head softly as he moved into the living room, even more confused when he did not find Y/n curled up on the couch with a stack of her textbooks, as she so often did while waiting for him to return.
“Hi dad,” Sarah’s smile dropped, glancing back into the entryway in confusion, “Where’s Y/n? I made this card at school today but I figured I’d wait until after you guys came back to give it to her.”
The blood in Joel’s veins ran cold, his heart skipping a beat at the sudden realisation of why his house appeared to be so void of his girlfriend, “Fuck.”
“Dad?” Sarah’s wide eyes narrowed, all too used to her father’s undiagnosed case of short-term memory loss, though he had never ever forgotten something like this before.
“Shit,” He swore again, snatching his keys off of the counter and rushing to jam his feet back into his uncomfortable boots, “Sarah, go to bed. I’ll be back later tonight.”
The girl watched helplessly as her father raced out the door, tears welling in her eyes as she stared down at the happy picture she had pasted into the card and frowning as she feared the worst.
– – –
Joel arrived at the restaurant just before eleven. He knew it was a long shot, as the reservation was for seven-thirty, which he had purposefully written down and stuck to the fridge so that he would not forget. The few remaining staff inside shook their heads in pity at the man, quickly coming to understand his situation as he rushed inside, asking about the reservation with a bouquet of flowers in his grasp.
His shoulders slumped as he parked in his driveway, trudging across the lawn into the neighbouring yard and knocking firmly on the door. He waited a few moments, cursing quietly as he got no response and knocking again.
His frown deepened when the door swung open, a fuming Stephanie standing in his way. Her face burned scarlet, fists clenched at her side as she took in Joel’s pitiful appearance. She took a step forward, joining Joel on the front step and closing the door behind her.
“The fuck do you want?”
“Where’s Y/n?” He asked, ignoring her bluntness.
“She doesn’t wanna talk to you,” the girl sneered at him. “It’s one thing to stand someone up, even to forget their birthday, but to embarrass her like that in front of her family?” She scoffed, “you know, I warned her about you, but I took no pleasure in being right. You should have seen her tonight, barely spoke at all.”
The metaphorical knife in Joel’s gut twisted at her words, the fist clenching the bouquet tightening even further around the stems. He could picture her; all dolled up, chatting with her family as she eagerly awaited his arrival, her pretty smile dampening as time passed and eventual tears in her eyes as she realised the truth–he had forgotten about her.
“Just let me talk to her,” he begged, “Please.”
Stephanie shook her head, “I think it’s best if you never show your face on my property again, Miller.”
“Joel?” Both of their eyes turned at the sound of Y/n’s voice, finding her peeking around the door curiously. “Steph, can you give us a minute?”
The woman sent Joel one final glare, patting her roommate on the shoulder before slipping back into the house.
If the knowledge of what he’d done hadn’t been enough, Y/n’s appearance was the final blow to his gut. Her eyes were bloodshot, cheeks swollen and marked with visible remnants of tears. She wrung her fingers together anxiously, keeping her gaze lowered in shame as she closed the door behind her and turned to face him.
“Baby–”
“Don’t.” Y/n interrupted, “Just explain.”
He sniffled, “I can’t explain it, or excuse it. We got held up at work, and I really need this job to be done and over with already. I’m so sorry, baby.”
She shook her head, lifting her sleeve to wipe at the underside of her nose, “You didn’t even say goodbye before you left this morning. Did you even remember at all?”
Joel bit his lip, “I’m sorry. Let me–”
“Joel,” Her voice cracked, “I love you.” His heart soared as she spoke those words for the first time, then shattered as she continued, “I understand that I’m not your first priority–that’ll always be Sarah and I can’t blame you for that. But, fuck, you suggested the restaurant, Joel. You spoke to my mom over the phone and promised her the best steak in town, and she sure seemed to like it, but you weren’t even there. I won’t ever be your first priority, but I can’t be your last, either.”
“Y/n–”
“I think my cousins liked it, you know.” She continued, wiping at her cheeks, “They’re the type to pray for your downfall, and I’m sure they were loving every second of the dinner once everyone realised that you weren’t coming. Hell, all I did all night was talk about how amazing you were, and then–” Y/n cut herself off with a quiet sob. “You should probably leave.”
“Don’t do this,” Joel cupped her face, dropping the flowers to the deck recklessly as he wiped the tears away from her cheeks with his thumbs, “Tell me what to do. Hit me, yell at me, do something, but don’t ask me to walk away.”
She looked into his eyes, and for a moment, Joel felt hopeful that she might actually listen to him, though all hope was quickly diminished as he removed herself from his grasp, reaffirming her statement as she stepped back into the house.
“You should probably leave.”
#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#joel the last of us#joel miller imagine#joel miller x reader#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller one shot#joel miller fic#the last of us#tlou#hbo the last of us#Spotify
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So excited to finally be sharing my @zukkabigbang2024 fic, betaed by the amazing @kartoonkrazy and with wonderful art from @lizardlicks (link incoming)!
Featuring culture sharing, culture confusion, gossip, a very sassy Kanna, a very over-it-already Katara, meeting the parents when you and the parent are both world leaders and also you have issues with parents, and Sokka's daddy issues.
[“Right,” Hakoda manages. “An honor.” “Once we will endeavor to meet with equal honor in return,” the Fire Lord says so quickly he starts almost before Hakoda gets out the last syllable. “Sure.” Hakoda has to forcibly unclench his teeth to grind out, “We’re happy to welcome the delegation.” As if they had any choice in it. Fuck, but it would have been a lot easier to say no if the Fire Lord weren’t dating his son.] Or, Zuko is nervous about making a good impression on his first visit South as Fire Lord, which certainly has nothing to do with meeting Sokka’s father. Sokka is excited to see his boyfriend after months apart, and is absolutely totally fine with not being involved in the week’s political negotiations. Totally. Hakoda already has a headache just thinking about how exactly he’s supposed to interact with a fellow world leader who is also a teenager, and also dating his son, and wait--Sokka’s old enough for dating now? When did that happen?
To all the people who on my other longfics kept going 'wow, I cannot wait for the conversation with Hakoda about this one!' to which I kept going '…about that.' -- this one's for you :)
#Get ready for everyone repressing their issues 7 layers deep#And also to get punched right in the feels#Alternate titles included - Zuko and Sokka vs work-life balance: The rise of Sei Zun#fic writing#my writing#Zukka fic#zukka big bang 2024#Zuko#Sokka#Hakoda#Bato#Katara#Kanna
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Fanfic isn't a possession.
When an author deletes a work on AO3, they haven't taken anything from the readers. It's not a physical object that can be snatched away, and if readers wanted a digital copy to keep, AO3 made that possible. It is the reader's choice whether or not to keep a copy. The author has absolutely no say over whether or not they do this.
If you have a favorite exhibit at the museum, and that exhibit closes for whatever reason, nobody "stole" art from you. Same thing with whatever play is currently at your local theater--it's temporary, and when it closes, the actors didn't take away your entertainment. Before streaming and box sets of tv shows being sold at Target, all of television was ephemeral, too. You caught it or you didn't.
I don't know why there is an expectation that fanfic should be permanently made available to readers. The archive certainly gives a place where that can happen, but there is no reason to assume that it always will happen, nor that readers are entitled to that.
There are many reasons to delete a fanfic--not orphan, not post anonymously, but delete. It's fine to be disappointed if that happens. It's not fine to harass authors or try to wrest control of the work from them or create archives full of stolen work.
#books go out of print#I read most of mine from the library so like there is an expectation of temporariness#why the fuck is fanfic treated so differently#I've actually seen arguments that given that AO3 is an archive it should be against TOS to delete fic#saw a post on r/ao3 today suggesting people feed fics with grammatical errors into chatgpt to make them readable#I know that yelling at an entire generation of fans to learn to respect other people is completely futile#old person yells at cloud kinda shit#but if I hadn't made friends through fanfic I'd be deleting my account after this year of bullshit#like for real what is next#like is this akin to pirating? is that why people think it's not only okay but good?#it's not pirating#pirating is when something is available behind a pricewall#fanfic is free you acn't fucking pirate it#fanfic#ao3
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[ "Symphony of Love & Desire" ]
Malleus x GN!Reader
Summary: It was Malleus' birthday and a party was being held at the Diasomnia dormitory. The formalities and main event of the party was done. You, Malleus' classmate and close friend, was pushed by your peers to sing a song requested by the band for further tonight's entertainment. You agreed to sing the song after a brief musing.
Tags: 18+, one shot smut, eventual smut, birthday fic (sort of), lots of kissing because I love it, porn with feelings, power play, dom/sub, slight degradation, hickeys, rough sex, pwp, creampie, multiple orgasm, brief oral sex (receiving)
A/N: I certainly have a type and Malleus is one of the addition. Yes, I'm now diving with my non-existent cock first at the LEGAL twst boys—especially Malleus. Also yes, I'm posting about another character's birthday instead of my side chick: Idia Shroud.
Word Count: 10.3K
[ Masterlist ] | [ Archive of Our Own ]
Malleus Draconia, the birthday celebrant, was seated at a table in the center of the dorm’s lounge. He looked even more stunning and regal in his white dress suit—a common outfit worn by birthday celebrants at the Night Raven College—that exquisitely hugged his tall figure and mesomorphic physique. He enjoyed the sights, sounds, and smells of the festivities.
The party was nearly over, most of the important affairs having been done, most of the guests gone already and those left were enjoying the last dregs of conversation and food. The main banquet hall had been cleaned up after the main course had been served. It was a splendid feast, with roasted meats, baked sides, and an array of soups and salads. After that, there was a delightful dessert course, featuring a variety of chocolate, baked, and creamy delicacies.
You stepped through the ornate double doors of the large lounge where the party was currently being held. The band at the front of the room had begun to play a slow, melodic song. The lights dimmed for a moment, before coming up bright again as a spotlight shined on you. Everyone's eyes were on you now, and the room waited with breathless anticipation.
You took to the stage before the crowd. You were dressed accordingly and you looked composed as you clutched the microphone stand. With a deep breath, you allowed your eyes to adjust to the sudden change in lighting before moving forward. You had been pushed into a role of prominence that you were far from comfortable with, but you let yourself loose for the night.
Malleus had remained the majority of the evening in his seat, content with observing the room and taking note of any little tidbit that may interest him. The band had continued their soft, slow melody, setting the perfect atmosphere for your announcement.
As the first cheers of support came from around the room, Malleus also began to applaud in support. He was just as entertained by this yearly ritual as any other, even if you did not always seem to be in the best spirits.
"Sing it loud!" He was heard to say, and the room followed his example.
Inwardly cursing yourself for falling victim to peer pressure, you took your place on the stage that had been set up. Your dread was not evident in your confident stance and easy demeanor. Your voice cut through the chatter when you lifted the microphone and called for silence.
"My gentlefolk. You know who I am, and what I am here to do, of course. As tradition dictates, this evening is to be entertaining and memorable, as I have the honor of providing this night's entertainment."
You scan the coagulation of students and some teachers then spot your gaze upon your peers that pushed you on the stage at the side—cheering you on. You shake your head as a faint smile appears on your lips.
You took a deep breath when the band started to play the intro of the song that they have requested for you to sing. Some students of the crowd clapped when they recognized the instrumental intro of the song. Surely, you wonder about their song choice. Nevertheless, you know the song by heart and it seemed there was no room for negotiation for this one.
As you kept singing, you found yourself enjoying the act; and Malleus kept watching, paying extra close attention to you now. Every lyric sung and every note hit with precision and beauty. The first lines of verses were sung with the full support of the room, which sent Malleus' spirits soaring.
Even with Malleus still in his seat, he leaned in closer, his eyes glued on you as you sang. A light sweat broke out on his forehead despite how well climate controlled the room was, and he took a few quick breaths to compose himself, though this did little to help his attraction towards you.
You looked at the crowd again with a smile on your face, your eyes moving over each and every person there. Your voice was sweet and smooth, your delivery was almost perfect and… sensuous as Malleus would interpret it. For all your unassuming manner, your presence was strong and striking as you stood and moved in front of that audience.
Malleus' eyes had remained on you from the very start, and he felt as if he had been hypnotized in place by your voice. He felt like a teen boy again, his face still a slight tint of rosy, his attention focused on you. He took deep breaths, but his heart began to beat a bit faster. His eyes followed every movement of your lips, every expression that crossed your face.
As you began to sing the climax of the song, Malleus could not help but become completely enamored with the way your body and movement expressed the emotions of the song. Each motion, each word said it all; that this was no longer a performance, but something more personal.
Malleus was breathing quite heavily, and a fine sheen of glisten covered his face now, feeling his heart beat faster and harder than he had felt in years. He stared at you, eyes glued to every breath, every blink, every motion. In a moment of weakness, he even licked his lips before he realized what he was doing. Every word that came from your lips felt like a dagger to his heart, though they were quite beautiful.
You took a deep breath as the song reached its final chorus, your wandering eyes watched the crowd and your eyes met with Malleus'; and you both shared a knowing expression. Your eyes remained locked with each other, and you could feel Malleus' eyes on you as well. Not an ounce of your feelings were left to interpretation.
Malleus' breath was caught in his throat and he watched you with an almost trance-like state. As you finished the song, your eyes still remained locked, and the room seemed to disappear as Malleus remained focused entirely on you. The final chorus brought him closer and closer to the ledge of madness, as a wave of heat and excitement covered him. He licked his lips again, it is as if this entire song was written by you and with him as the subject.
Malleus felt his fingers curling as he resisted the urge to grab you by the collar or brush his fingers through your hair. The song had him in a sort of ecstasy, having played on his emotions in a way he never expected possible. The emotions played in a symphony of his senses, and it was all he could do to remain seated.
You remained staring at Malleus with the same warm, slightly mischievous smile on your face that you wore since the beginning of your singing. As you had been in the center of the crowd, you now felt Malleus' eyes on you as you shared a moment of silence.
"Thank you gentlemen, I hope you were entertained by my performance for our dear Malleus' birthday."
You held Malleus' gaze for a few seconds longer than was comfortable, and then you turned away and greeted a cheering audience with a bow, your smile never breaking. You walked off the stage to a raucous applause, your face still slightly flushed with effort and excitement.
Malleus could feel his heartbeat out of his chest, his emotions a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation. He could not even hide his blush, nor turn his eyes away from your figure as you walked off stage with grace.
He remained seated for just a moment, taking deep breaths and hoping that you could not see just how excited he was at the song performance. Malleus could have sworn that you had planned for this show, and if you did, it was the most clever, well executed act of seduction Malleus had ever seen.
He took a moment to compose himself, but the images of you and the chorus kept playing in his mind. He was surprised to see how many members of the audience had their phones out and were recording the moment. Malleus took a deep breath once again and recollected himself as best he could, wanting to catch up with you before you left.
Malleus waited a few minutes, knowing that you had been performing on stage and probably needed to catch your breath and collect yourself. When he started making his way through the crowd, he spotted you off to the side in an empty hallway.
He made his way towards you, his heart beating so loudly he thought that it would give away his approach. When he finally reached the corner, he rounded the wall and saw you standing by yourself with your arms behind your back, eyes glued on the dark gothic paintings plastered on the walls.
Malleus took a deep breath and walked over, clearing his throat slightly as he approached. He hesitated for a moment, trying to decide whether to tell you how he truly felt. He took a deep breath and spoke.
"I have never... I have never heard someone sing like you do," his words were quiet, his tone soft and reserved. He could feel himself beginning to blush again.
"That... that song, you really sang it. You performed it perfectly, and I can't thank you enough. I have never been so... so mesmerized, so completely captivated by a song like that. Your voice…”
You turned at the sound of Malleus' voice and smiled at him, taking a moment to look the man up and down. The look that passed between the two of you was a telling one, and it was quite obvious that you both knew what was going on.
"Well, thank you for your words of appreciation, Malleus," you began to walk over to Malleus, hands still behind your back.
"I only did what I think would entertain me and the audience as well."
Your expression was that of interest, a sly and playful smile spreading out across your face as you began to take in the well-crafted suit and the handsome face of your friend. You also caught the light blush that was creeping towards Malleus' cheeks, and the way his breathing hitched ever so slightly. The man's expression was one of subtle excitement and eager anticipation.
Malleus met your gaze as he approached, his face flushing brighter with each moment. You might have been the most attractive person Malleus had ever met, as he would now admit despite the two of you being quite closer than he is to most people; and it was quite obvious that he was just as captivated by your figure as he had been by your impromptu performance.
As you drew closer, Malleus took a deep breath and stood up straight, trying to maintain some composure despite the overwhelming emotions washing over him. He placed his hands together and looked away from you for a moment before looking back again.
"I... I wanted to say.”
Malleus let out a nervous chuckle—which is a far cry from his normal disposition—feeling your presence like a warm glow around him as your eyes remained locked. You had a way of making him feel nervous and excited in all the right ways.
"I... It was... that song hit a chord with me that... I don't think I've felt that way in ages. And the way you sang it... I have had that song on a loop in my head for days, but the way you sang..."
He took a breath and tried to calm himself, "You're... magnificent.”
You smiled, eyes remaining locked with Malleus'. You took a small step closer, leaning in and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, a playful glint in your eyes.
"Magnificent am I? My performance must have really hit a chord then, to make you say something so... intimate about it. I am pleased I was able to please you so, Malleus."
You leaned in just a bit closer as you looked up at Malleus' unequivocally attractive features, a slight smile graced your lips.
"And I suppose I should also thank you for being such a fantastic classmate and a friend." You gave Malleus a light wink, the two of you smiling back and forth before Malleus looked away, his face still a bit flushed.
Your eyes twinkled, your smile growing and your gaze still lingering for a moment before you tilted your head upwards and pressed your lips against Malleus' own in a slow and gentle kiss.
Malleus was absolutely caught off guard by the sudden kiss, caught completely in the whirlwind of your lips. It was the most romantic thing anyone had done for him. Malleus felt lightheaded, feeling his body tremble as his body grew more flushed.
The moment was surreal, and so many emotions crashed and flooded through you at once. You could feel your feet leave the floor as your lips pressed against his own, his arms wrapped around you as you both relished in the moment. Malleus felt as if time stood still, and for a moment everything else in the world just faded away. His mind was filled with a mix of elation and confusion as his heart raced at the sheer excitement of the moment.
It was so tender and gentle, but every inch of it said "I have wanted this for a while".
Malleus had to bite his bottom lip to prevent a moan from escaping him. His heart pounded furiously in his chest, and he felt completely and wholly weak. He wanted to kiss you for a long time, and he never knew how your first kiss together would feel so wonderful.
You held Malleus gently as the kiss lingered for just a moment, though to you it felt like hours. You felt yourself begin to puff, not from the act of kissing but from the pure emotion coursing through you. Malleus was more than a friend to you, more than an intimidating figure to fear, he was someone who you could not help but admire and adore.
You could feel Malleus' body tense, yet there was a warmth and ease that could bring him comfort and make him melt in your grasp. You could feel Malleus' heart pounding against his chest, and he wrapped his other arm around your waist as the kiss lingered for another moment.
Sooner, you felt Malleus' hands grip your neck and shoulder, your chest heaving with your breathing and your heart racing. You could feel the way that Malleus felt you, wanted you... it was as if you were in a dream.
You pulled away from the kiss, your hand cradling Malleus' jaw, your thumb slowly stroking over his lips. You stayed close to Malleus, still looking up at him, your eyes peering deeply into the fae's soul.
"Did you enjoy your birthday present, Malleus?”
Malleus stood there, staring into your eyes as his mind and heart were still racing. For a moment, the only sound that Malleus could hear was his heart beating, pounding so hard it felt like his chest might explode.
"I... I don't think I could have ever imagined such a... perfect gift. I... I just..."
Malleus looked down at the ground as he tried to collect himself. Then, he finally got the nerve to look down directly at you. He still felt utterly weak in your presence, and you had only seemed to grow more stunning since the kiss. It was as if you were a perfect figure, every movement a dance, every look an enticement.
"Yes, I enjoyed it more than I have ever thought possible." Malleus gave you a brief, but passionate kiss. His heart was racing and his breath was short as he stepped back. He wanted to taste your lips again and he knew that he was in too deep now.
You let the kiss linger for a moment, gently leaning your head toward Malleus. When Malleus pulled away, you smiled and nodded, your expression one of understanding and appreciation. You could see the passion in Malleus' eyes, and you knew just how smitten the man was.
Just then, your eyes sparkled with a deep sense of playfulness and mischief, your hand that was still resting on Malleus' jaw went to Malleus' collar. With a light chuckle, you leaned your head upwards once more and pressed your lips to Malleus'; and your other hand pulled the back of Malleus' head, as your lips chafing onto his.
After what felt like hours of lips pressing in the most tender graze, you begrudgingly pulled away for breath.
"I love you, Malleus. I've been wanting to tell you that for a while now," you said with sincerity as your emotions poured out in the open for Malleus.
It was a long time coming and you were given the perfect opportunity to confess the love you felt for the few years you had known together.
Malleus was speechless, his heart racing to a point where he thought it might explode. The kiss was tender, sweet, and his desire to kiss you one more time was intoxicating. Malleus felt his heart ache from the separation, his very soul wanting to join with you, and he knew that if he did not make a move quickly he would regret it.
Malleus wrapped both hands around the back of your head and pulled you back to himself. He leaned in with no hesitation and pressed his lips to yours once more.
The kiss became more deep, slow, and completely immersive. Malleus' emotions had taken full control over him as he kissed you with a passion and love he had never felt before. Malleus pressed against you, his arms sliding under your shirt and his hands rubbing your back and shoulders; and you could hear the faint rustling of your clothes. He took the initiative of this kiss, wanting to take everything he could from you and give him everything back in turn. He wanted to give you every ounce of his body, to show you just how much he cared.
When you felt Malleus take control of the kiss, your eyes flickered open in surprise. You had never experienced anyone quite so assertive and bold, and it made you feel almost like a younger teen that had their first crush touch their hand for the first time all over again—your legs growing weak and your body quaking. You had to hold on tight to Malleus to keep yourself grounded, your mind swimming so much that you couldn't put words to your feelings.
Malleus held onto you as tight as he possibly could, his hot breath wafting on your face as his heart pounded like thunder. He was completely and unequivocally in love, and there was nothing that he wanted more than to feel your lips upon his forever. The entire world could fall to disarray, and Malleus would still keep his hold strong over the person he had fallen for.
When it finally ended, you were breathless, the passion of the kiss and the heat that it brought with it being almost more than you could bear. As your eyes slowly opened you felt Malleus' hands rub your back, his arms sliding underneath your shirt as he pressed his hand against your chest, his body pressed against yours as tight as he could.
You knew Malleus' intentions and your heart felt like it would jump out of your chest and bid you goodbye.
Your throat imperceptibly bobbed and spoke in a hushed tone, "Take me where nobody can see and disturb us."
Malleus pulled you close to him as he felt your legs giving way underneath him. Every inch of your body pressed against Malleus', and the feeling of your warm body pressed against his own felt better than any drug.
He didn't hesitate the moment you asked to be taken somewhere private, his arms wrapped around you as he lifted you off the floor. His lips pressed against your ear and he whispered seductively.
"Hold on tight."
Malleus was already in the process of pulling you to a secluded corner of an empty hallway, far away from the event and away from the crowded lounge. The corners were dark and empty as he carried you close around the corner, his hands occupied with your body. Malleus' expression was of excitement and passion, and his voice was deep and heavy as he spoke.
"You have no idea how much I have wanted you.” Malleus' heart was racing, his body practically buzzing with excitement. The moment had finally come, and he was going to cherish it to its fullest extent.
Your hands were wrapped around his neck, and Malleus felt your head pressed into the crook of his neck as he held you to his chest. You made your way to his room, where nobody was nearby, the door was locked, and the mood was intimate and exciting.
Malleus leaned against the wall, pressing you against it. Malleus' free arm and hand slid down your back and down your hip, his fingers brushing against the fabric and tracing the figure beneath. His other hand stayed wrapped around the back of your head, holding you against the wall as he slowly kissed you more and more. The kiss was aggressive and Malleus was finally taking what he wanted. Malleus' mouth was a warm, deep, and tender caress as it played over your mouth and chin and cheek.
Malleus finally broke your lips apart. Your eyes locked upon one another as your hearts raced and your breath was heavy, and then Malleus' fingers wandered over your shirt and he began to slowly unbutton it. He moved slowly, his hands touching your body in all the right places as he whispered seductively.
"Take a deep breath my dear, for things are about to become... quite intense.”
You had the greatest difficulty in taking a deep breath when Malleus' fingers started to unbutton your shirt. You watched the man's lithe fingers work their way over the fabric of your shirt, and your body felt like it had been set ablaze.
"Mm... Malleus..." your voice trembled just a little as you spoke.
You had never felt someone take such control over the situation, it was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. Your voice was breathy, and you could feel your mind trapped in a haze as the excitement only grew and grew.
Your breath went in and out in short bursts of air and your very soul practically boiling under Malleus' attention. The man before you was the epitome of power and status, your ideal of success, and you were utterly intoxicated under his touch.
"Whatever you want, Malleus, take it. I'll be yours."
This had been your dream for the longest time, and now it was going to be made a reality.
Malleus smiled as he continued to slowly unbutton your shirt. His hands felt the warm skin beneath, feeling the muscles contract and loosen as his breath caressed your neck. As the buttons of your shirt were fully undone, Malleus slid the shirt off of your body and leaned down to lightly brush his lips against your collarbone.
Malleus slipped his arms around your waist, his warm breath hitting your skin as he whispered seductively, "There is something I would very much like to do to you, my dear.”
Malleus' lips pressed back against your collarbone, his warm breath gently caressing your skin. His hands ran over your back and sides, his fingers rubbing and caressing the figure of your body while his lips began to work their way down your chest. His warm breath continued to hit your skin with each exhalation, and his hands kept moving over your body.
Malleus' lips kept on softly brushing against your skin, his hands gripping your hip as he leaned down to your ear. Your breath was ragged, and Malleus' voice had the distinct sound of dominance about it. His voice was deep and rich, and the words were slow and deliberate.
"I would very much like... to kiss... all of the parts of your body... inch by inch." Malleus slowly slid your pants down, his lips still caressing your neck as he spoke in a whisper.
Malleus paused, his lips still against your neck. The man was flushed with adrenaline, his muscles tense as his body practically vibrated with the heat that grew within.
"May I?" Malleus' breathing was short, and his body quivered with the anticipation of what he wanted to do next. His grip on you tightened as his lips slipped away and he looked directly into your eyes. Malleus looked like a hunter, and he was about to take his prize.
You couldn't contain yourself and the response was already bubbling to the surface. You were practically a bundle of raw nerves and anticipation, and the voice you heard was like that of honey on your ears.
"Please... yes... do it. Please, I want every inch of your lips on my body," you sounded desperate, your breathing ragged and your voice shaking with the intensity of the moment. It wasn't just a thought or a desire for you, it was a need, a hunger that could only be sated in this moment by Malleus.
Malleus gently kissed your neck, his lips and the breath from his words caressing your skin and you felt like your skin was burning in every kiss. Your pants were down to your ankles in another moment, and your eyes were focused on Malleus, locked onto the fae's eyes.
The atmosphere was filled with a charged tension, and Malleus could feel your eyes exploring him as well. His fingers brushed across your body as he leaned over you, his lips pressed once again on your neck. His kisses were driving you insane. You wanted the man to take you, to explore every inch of you, and to make you his entirely.
"Please, don't just say it, Malleus, do it," the words were soft and breathless, a plea from you to your friend, now lover.
This was real, you could feel it with the touch and the words of the man looming before you. Your skin continued to burn, and your legs were weak from the excitement and the passion. Your eyes flickered open and the words in your mind left your lips.
"Take what you wish, my love. I am yours." Your expression changed to one of quiet desperation, as if the very words came from your soul itself.
"Love." Malleus spoke the word as if it were honey in his mouth. Malleus leaned over you, his eyes and lips locked on yours, and he was enjoying watching your reactions. He breathed it, whispered it, and let the word linger as his lips moved down your neck, his teeth slightly biting down, and his tongue softly tasting your skin. His hands moving to your hips and holding you.
There was no more time for games, and now it was time for passion.
Slowly, Malleus took off his suit jacket and threw it onto a nearby chair. The two of you were inside his dorm room, and there was something romantic about getting close to the person he wanted so badly and finally having you all alone. Malleus' own breath was coming in short and heavy puffs as his eyes feasted on your mess of a quivering naked body.
Your eyes widened and blushed as Malleus took off his jacket and threw it onto the chair. Your breath came in short puffs, and your heart raced in your chest. Your every nerve and muscle aches for Malleus to do to you what you both had been waiting for. You saw the fae prince in a different light, and it was more intense and intoxicating than you could ever have imagined.
You felt like you were dreaming, your eyes staring up at Malleus as he went topless. His body was hot, his flesh was warm, and his skin was tingling with desire. Malleus' touch was both tender and rough, as if he was being gentle whilst preparing to pounce on you, and you let out a soft moan as the man’s hands touched you.
Every inch of your flesh tingled as Malleus touched you and his breath drifted across your skin like a fine mist. You wanted nothing more than to lose yourself in the moment, to forget that you were inside Malleus’ dorm room and give your heart over the man that was making your soul sing.
Malleus moved slowly, his eyes locked on yours as his lips found their target. He kissed you slowly, intimately, in a way that showed that your moment together was not one based on lust or obsession but on a desire for something much deeper and more meaningful.
Malleus pulled you close, and his arms came around you. Malleus' tongue darted around your jaw to your ear, and your own breath was coming in short and heavy gasps as you felt the fire between them grow once more.
Malleus' fingers slowly traced the outline of your body as he kissed you more. His lips danced across your abdomen and further down your hips. Your pants were down to your ankles, and Malleus was feeling your leg shake.
He kissed your thigh as he spoke. "I cannot wait any longer.”
You found yourself unable to speak, your body reacting to the man before you and your desires overwhelming your words. You wanted to scream out in pleasure and passion. Your body was burning hot from Malleus' touch, and your own hands were slowly stroking the man's back.
"Then... take me," you whispered, your words soft and breathy. "I'm yours... in every way."
The word seemed to come from your soul itself, and you let your arms fall limp. You felt like you couldn't hold yourself up any longer. The touch in Malleus' hands and tongue both drove you crazy as you felt your control over yourself fading fast.
Malleus slowly kissed his way up once again to your stomach, and your eyes were shut tight as you felt the heat increase; and your own hands were trembling as you felt everything about your senses heightened.
There was no time for games, and no time for play. The two of you wanted each other and it was time to finally be together. Malleus slowly lifted your legs, and your fingers were biting into the mortars of the wall behind you.
"You are mine and I am yours." Malleus' voice was a husky whisper, and his voice was filled with a passion and excitement he had never been able to express or feel before.
Malleus brushed one hand over your crotch as you stood weakly on your feet, making your back pressed and rubbed against the concrete wall. Your body was twitching. It sounded and looked like your breath was escaping in short and shallow puffs like an untended fire, your eyes fluttering and closing just to open wide and stare into Malleus' own.
You felt it building up inside, this deep craving and desire that you felt only grew the longer it remained unfulfilled. Your skin felt like it was ablaze, you could feel it burning under Malleus' tongue and lips.
"More... please," your voice was soft, and his breathing was loud.
"Malleus..." you whispered once again, your voice laced with lust and a desire for more. You were almost speechless, and your head was rolling back against the wall and you mustered all of your strength to stay standing on your feet.
Malleus stood slowly, his hand sliding over your ass and down your leg as he smiled. He took the moment to enjoy the situation and the person he had his attention on. Malleus' hand slowly rubbed and teased along the inside of your thighs, and both of you were heavily breathing.
Malleus watched you and your reactions carefully, noting every small change, every twitch and movement, every look and sound you made. It was a heady feeling, knowing he was having this much effect on you, but it was also exciting. The way he felt for you was exciting, and making a person as wonderful and put together as you responded to him so readily was a source of pride.
His own hands gripped your hips tightly, as if he was going to lift you up and take you right there while you both are pressed against the wall. There was something about you that drew him like a moth to a flame, something about you that made him feel like the chase was worth it. Malleus took his time and savored every touch, every moment, every word.
Malleus brought his lips back up to your face and your eyes met once more. Malleus could feel the heat of the passion coursing through your flesh, and he could practically feel the need and want, the craving for more. He wanted to take you right here, right now, for the moment was perfect and he felt it. He wanted you, and he wanted you so desperately.
"Do you want more?" Malleus' voice was gentle and filled with love.
"Yes, please... don't stop..." Your voice was little more than a grunt, but it had the effect you desired.
Your fingers dug into the wall behind, as if trying to stay standing and Malleus' hands clutching your waist to support you. You were practically shivering and your legs were parted by Malleus' thigh. You could barely think straight, let alone speak coherently.
"You want me." Malleus' voice was a husky whisper as he spoke the words. Malleus could feel your need for him, and he felt the hunger you had for him inside his very skin. The kiss was growing deeper, and suddenly, you could feel the man's hand sliding down your spine slowly, his fingers tracing over your skin, exploring and seeking for even more pleasure.
Malleus watched you fall apart in front of him and he had never felt more excited. You were his prey, and you were now a captive to Malleus. Malleus was so excited, he could hardly keep himself from biting your flesh, but he knew better. Your flesh was delicate and he loved you, and it would take great force of will not to tear you to pieces while the hunger for you built inside him.
"I want you." Malleus' voice was filled with desire to consume you whole.
And so, he did. He lifted you up and gently placed you on his bed as if you were a precious cargo; then he swiftly removed the dangling undergarments from your ankles.
He pushed you back so that you were lying on the mattress, and he let his lips explore your body once again. He kissed your chest over and over, his lips trailing down along the line of your abdomen then back up your chest—licking and nibbling the puckered nipples. He kissed your neck with long slow kisses, and then his lips moved up to your right ear and slowly moved down to your left jaw, kissing every inch of skin along the way.
"Malleus... please... " you whispered softly, your eyes fluttering in a daze.
Malleus took one look at your body and he felt his passion and his hunger build and he was finally hungry enough to take you and not even be subtle about it.
Malleus' own pants were quickly undone and set to the side of the bed. There was the sound of passion in the room, the sound of breathing and the rustling of clothes being shed. Your body was a marvel to Malleus and he took his time in admiring it.
"What a sight to behold." Malleus' voice was a whisper as he looked over your body, and then Malleus' lips and tongue made their way back to your ear. "Such a prize, to have in my hands.”
You were a mass of quivering hips, aching muscles, twitching fingers, and shallow breaths. You were trembling, shaking, and so much more as you let Malleus have his way with you.
You were a whirlwind of excitement and you were so far in over your head, you couldn't believe you hadn't both drowned. Your breath was shallow, your eyes flutter and unfocused as you let every sensation wash over you. Malleus' body and voice and words were a spell that you had just fallen under and you were utterly powerless to break it.
"Malleus... I need you..." you whispered, letting out a small gasp.
"Please..." You begged once more and spread your thighs a bit wider, your feet planted on the soft sheets of Malleus’ bed.
"Shhhhhh..." Malleus' voice was a husky whisper as he finally gave in to his own hunger.
He kissed your belly, licking and swirling his tongue along your flesh as he spread your legs even more, his tongue moving deeper down your body and his touch finally finding the place he was desperate to find.
You could feel your body shaking and you couldn't stop it. Your breath hitched and your body was tingling from head to toe as Malleus laps the flesh between your legs. And yet, Malleus felt no pity or concern for you. All he felt was excitement and hunger.
"Oh, Malleus..." your voice broke as Malleus gave in to his own passion.
Your hands gripped the sheets tightly as if to keep from being pulled deeper into the experience. Malleus' tongue and lips worked over your genitalia with abandon, pushing you further and further over the edge until you could do nothing but let go and let Malleus have what he wanted.
As the pleasure perpetually cascaded along your flesh, your hands mustered the dregs of your strength and grabbed Malleus' hair and pulled him back to your face. You wanted nothing more than to feel Malleus inside you like you had never wanted anything your entire life.
"I need you, I want you inside me." You grunted from the pain and pleasure as your flesh grew more aroused and screamed for more intense stimulation.
Malleus made a husky, excited sound as your hands grabbed his hair and pulled him back up. His lips were wet and sloppy from the kisses and licks he just gave you and he was quite visibly shivering now. The moment was pure heaven, and he was desperate to claim what was rightfully his and to make this moment last.
He climbed on top of you whilst spreading your legs. He held your shoulders and your arms, pushing his body down, and making sure that the two of you were close together. You had nowhere to go, no way to escape.
"You want me to take you?" Malleus almost growled the words, his voice a deep husk, and his fangs glistened against the dim lights of his room.
Malleus leaned in closer to your face as he lifted your right leg off the mattress. There was an unspoken question in his eyes, and you could see the hunger in his gaze for him.
"Tell me... " Malleus whispered the words, his voice full of desire and hunger.
You were trembling all over but you didn't feel cold at all. You felt hot like your skin was set ablaze by Malleus’ touch.
"I'm more than ready." Your voice was a breathless sigh as you looked up at Malleus.
Your genitalia was leaking with your slick from all the stimulation. You were a mess. Your hair was a mess and you were a mess of feelings too. You were ready to give yourself to Malleus, and there was no fear in that choice. It was the right thing, the only thing, that you needed right now.
"Yes," you whispered with your voice quivering in his excitement. "Oh my… god..." You let out a heavy sigh before you spoke again, "Please... please!“
Malleus was grinning as you whispered the words, as if it was the hottest, most seductive thing he had ever heard. He was a proud man, and to hear his prize say these things about him made his day.
Malleus let your legs move closer together, and his right thigh moved in between your own, slowly spreading you open wider before him. He saw the hunger in your eyes, and he saw the need in your face. He saw you open to him as you lay on his bed and begged for what you wanted.
"Good…" Malleus' voice was filled with delight. He leaned down atop your body and grabbed you by the hips, sliding his body closer to yours. His mouth slid to your ear, and his tongue was teasing one of your sensitive ears as his hand caressed your thighs.
"Ready, dear…” His eyes met yours, and the two of you looked at each other, both desperate for more after this long moment of longing. Malleus licked his lips and his smile was mischievous and cruel.
You gasped and shuddered as Malleus teased your ear, your eyes fluttering, your face flushed pink as you tried to stay in control, but you knew that there was no way he would last much longer.
"Yes! Yes, oh my god yes! Please take me. I want you, I NEED you, and I'm ready!" you were desperate, you couldn't wait another minute.
Your body was shaking with nervous excitement, and there was no fear in you, just pure, unadulterated need. You heard your own breath coming in shallow heaves, and you felt your own body's hunger as you watched Malleus move towards your entrance. You can feel Malleus' tip hitting and rubbing your pulsing core ever so slightly.
“I want you as well…” Malleus' voice was a husky whisper, his teeth gritted and his tongue working the edges of his mouth as he spoke to you. His eyes were heavy as he puffed, his warm breath hitting your skin as his desire for you grew with each word that left his lips.
You were right where he wanted you, completely vulnerable, totally exposed, completely open to him. Malleus' hands and feet slid around you, as his tongue worked over your neck, chest and arms. He was completely and utterly prepared to take everything you had to offer...
Malleus leaned closer to you once more until you were chest to chest, as his hand left your thighs and moved up your body to grip your waist. His mouth stayed glued to your ear, and he whispered softly in your ear as his body slowly slipped overtop of yours. He made sure to keep his eyes on you, his gaze firm and dominant, with a hint of desire in its glint.
"I know," he growled softly as he felt you shake with excitement. "Hold onto me... “
Your answer was a groan, a loud, lustful moan as Malleus moved over your body. Your eyes closed tightly as your body quivered, trying to contain yourself. You could feel Malleus' body against yours, and your own stomach churning with gleeful anticipation.
"Oh... oh Sevens, I..." your voice trailed off.
A loud gasp escaped your lips as Malleus’ tip started to push inside. Your eyes shut closed, all your attention was poured into the sensation of Malleus' shaft tearing its way inside you and stretching your flesh.
Malleus' mouth was right in front of your ear as he whispered to you. "You're mine, you… are completely mine."
And with a slow motion, with the speed of moving glaciers, Malleus started to thrust deliberately inside your walls.
He moved with determination and a cold hunger, for he knew how close you were to being his. He knew how much you wanted him and he knew it was only a matter of time. It was time to end this, to put the finishing touches on the perfect night.
"Hold onto me..." Malleus' command rang out once more, and his voice was a growl as he made himself clear.
He was in charge and you would know it. Malleus did not want to hurt you and he did not mean to hurt you. But, it was part of the game, and you would be fine by the end. Malleus let his movements be measured and slow for the first few seconds as he eased himself in, and then he slowly increased his pace. He wanted you to feel it, to feel every inch and every moment.
You were breathless, completely frozen in shock as Malleus claimed you in the most intimate way possible. Malleus was right on top of you, his manhood pumping fast and deep inside you, and you were helpless.
You tried to keep yourself together, but you were completely under Malleus' power and it seemed Malleus was in no rush at all to finish. Malleus moved with a confidence that matched the hunger in his eyes and the cold, dominant gaze he was giving you.
You let your hands move to Malleus' shoulders as you gasped out in the final act of surrender.
"I won't run away so claim me as your own," your words were punctuated with a low moan.
Your body shook involuntarily and your legs slowly spread even further apart to make sure that Malleus was able to move his hips faster and deeper. You let your mind go and you let his body take over. You were Malleus’, completely.
That moment of surrender was exactly what Malleus needed. He moved slower now, but his eyes never drifted off of you. He pushed his shaft fully inside you, and he stayed there for a beat, just to let you feel the force of his presence.
"I claim you," Malleus' words were a whisper, but there was no doubt as to their meaning or to his intention. After the man spoke, his hands began to slide back up your body, and his mouth was going to explore every inch of your neck.
Malleus moved slowly, but it was a steady rhythm. He was completely in control of the situation, and of you, and he was certainly going to take advantage of that situation. He wanted to enjoy every moment of this experience, and he wanted you to enjoy it as well.
You can see Malleus' face tightened as you shifted your body underneath him. You accepted the gift, and welcomed Malleus into you by bucking your hips against the fae’s. Malleus' body was moving with a slow and consistent pace, giving you enough to feel it, to build the intensity of the moment, each moment and every inch of it.
"Right there! Ah..." You whimpered breathlessly as Malleus' tip hit a sensitive spot inside your flesh despite the deliberate and tender thrusts of his hips.
Malleus' lips slowly worked their way down your neck, leaving small kisses in the wake of Malleus' mouth. He kept a slow pace, letting his motions carry your mind and body away with them. He slid your legs further apart, forcing you to move your thighs even further down the mattress, opening yourself up even more to Malleus. He was enjoying this and he was not going to be finished so quickly.
Malleus whispered in your ear once again, his voice a soft but cold voice that spoke of his pleasure…
"Enjoy it." Malleus whispered into your ear again, the words sent shivers down your spine. He knew exactly what he wanted, and he knew he wanted more than just this.
He was a man of control, a man who kept calm in everything he did... except tonight. Malleus' focus was entirely on you, his words and eyes sharp and cruel, but they were a mask for the hunger he had for you. He was moving deeper now, forcing the tip of his manhood even further in.
Your mouth was open as your breaths were shallow. Your mind was lost to Malleus' body. You were his toy, one of his possessions and you belong entirely to him. You swallowed a low, lustful sound that escaped your body as Malleus' shaft kept on tearing its way inside your tight and slippery flesh. Your body tremors with anticipation, your voice was a breathy moan that you could barely get out.
"Ah... I... Malleus... " you quavered as you stumbled with your words. Instead, you responded with a moan, letting your head fall back as you gave it completely over to Malleus. Your eyes were closed and you felt your mind drifting away.
Malleus' pace was picking up slowly now, moving back and forth, back and forth, and pushing himself deeper and faster. He felt the insides of your body clenching and pulsing around his shaft in every thrust of his hips.
He whispered into your ear, "You are mine."
The words were like a wave, moving over you, the feeling of Malleus' ownership over you. It was a cruel thing, that ownership, but it was also a powerful thing. Now Malleus would have his way.
Malleus' tongue was working on your neck; licking, moving, and whispering to you the things he knew you wanted to hear. His mouth was a whirlwind of motion. Each part of your body was being worked to perfection. He knew you would enjoy them all.
You could feel every deep movement, every moment of being stretched out. Your thoughts were cloudy and you were breathing heavily. Each thrust by Malleus was a new experience. Your words came out in broken sentences, your mind was in a vortex of pleasure.
"I am, I am yours..." With each word from your mouth, Malleus' pace grew faster, and he drove deeper, faster, harder.
Malleus' voice had grown harsh and was more demanding by the second. He felt you giving way completely and he knew it was only a matter of time. He was in the driver seat and he would keep the pedal to the metal.
"Oh, you! What a mess you are..." Malleus' voice was a purr, one that carried a hint of amusement with it. It was like he was seeing you through a fog of lust and desire, of unadulterated excitement.
"Are you ready?" His voice was quiet and it carried just enough menace, just enough warning that you were close to the edge. But you also knew that the question was not a request for permission, it was a question of Malleus' curiosity.
You had taken Malleus at his word, and you were giving into every sensation that was coursing through you. Your mind was losing itself, and each moment was getting even closer to losing control.
You could feel his manhood pumping in and out of you mercilessly. The way it throbbed and twitched, how warm it was, and the way it hit so deep inside that it gave you a burning sensation. His deft hands grope your flesh with a vice grip, leaving reddish traces of nail marks here and there; and how those hands leave handprints on the back of your thighs from his harsh spanks and grip. How the pleasure and pain mixed together to drive you closer to the edge. You felt the pressure accumulating by each passing second.
"Yes!" You felt like you were in a dream, like your body was completely removed from your mind. Your body responded instantly to the harsh voice of Malleus, it's every cell moving to please him. Your voice was a mix of pleasure and agony, as if you were struggling to hold on to yourself, to hang onto life.
"More... please.”
It was like he was punishing your body. Keeping you wanting, keeping you desperate. Malleus was going to hold you right there on the very border between submission and denial, of pain and pleasure that he inflicted on your body. All the while he was making it perfectly clear that these decisions were his alone.
Malleus' voice was a growl as he pushed himself deeper into you. He wanted you to feel every inch of him from every stroke. He wanted you to feel his possession, his dominance, his power. His words were a demand, not a request. He had been patient with you the entire time, and he had enjoyed the process. That patience was beginning to fade slightly now and every single word out of his mouth was filled with a sharp edge.
"More? You want more of me?" Malleus asked, and then his fingers curled firmly on your waist, digging their nails on your supple flesh.
Malleus smiled as he heard your mumbled words and desperate moans. He knew he had you at the edge of the cliff, and with the words he just heard, he knew it was time to push you over.
"Moan for me as much as how you pant like a dog in heat," Malleus' voice was low and demanding, and his tone had shifted to a more cruel edge. “Like how you are desperate for me to fill you with my seed.”
His hands were running up and down your body, and his face was just inches from yours. He was pushing and pulling, he was taking and he was giving... he was playing with you to his heart's content. He was going to get as much pleasure as he could out of you. He was going to push you over the edge into the abyss of sensation without remorse.
"Yes, please. I want more of you. Please!" Your plea was desperate, a desperate voice of a person pushed past their limits and into a realm of sensations beyond anything you had ever known before. Your body was shaking, your legs were wrapped around Malleus, your back was pinned to the bed and your head was thrown back in surrender.
"Oh god, please Malleus! Push deeper! Faster! Please, please!" you cried out loudly in a fit of passion and submission. It was as if Malleus' body was a lock, and Malleus' voice and words were the key.
"Yes... yes... give it to me... More!" And with that utterance from you, Malleus knew that the game was over. Malleus' voice was a purr as he pushed himself even deeper, and your voice was a rasped mess of pleasure, pain, and ecstasy.
Malleus knew that you just crossed the bridge into surrender. You had no words left and your body was doing all the screaming. Your eyes were closed and your breathing was ragged.
Just as your body was wracking with waves of pleasure, Malleus pulled himself out of you, just to plunge in with a force he had reserved for very special occasions. Malleus knew that this was where it ended, and he was ready to take that step too.
Malleus' pace was frantic now, as if he had held himself back all this time just to reach this moment of pure pleasure. He moved deeper, he moved faster, he moved harder. His grip on your body was iron and his voice was cold, harsh and demanding. No man was going to take what was his. Malleus was in control. The pace and heat were increasing as you both prepared yourselves to climb the pinnacle of pleasure. His body was the paint and your body was the canvas.
"Oh you... Oh..." Malleus' voice was heavy with lust and utter pleasure.
Your body was in perpetual tremor and your legs were wrapped around Malleus, unable to let go of the fae. You were quaking so hard and was almost unable to breathe. You weren't really in control of your body at all anymore as though your body was acting on its own.
You were in a heaven of pleasure. You screamed and your back arched so much that if Malleus let go, you might snap in half. It felt like a fire that was consuming every inch of you, every nerve in your body was set ablaze. It didn't feel like a fire of pain, no it felt like a fire of lust, a fire that was spreading from inside of you and consuming you entirely. You couldn't hold it in any longer, it was impossible.
"Yes... Oh, Malleus... Yes! " The scream was enough for Malleus to know it was finished.
And with a final powerful thrust of Malleus, you gave everything you had in a final act of lust. Your voice was a loud, dragged out guttural moan, and the words left your mouth slipped in a breathless whisper. You moaned Malleus' name over and over again. It was a pure, immaculate, physical release.
There it was, that single moment. Malleus could feel it too, you were giving yourself to Malleus and that was just the beginning. He had been patient but now he was pushing for more. Malleus had found a sweet spot and he refused to let his prize slip away. His own pleasure had been growing and he would not be denied any longer.
"My dear... I am still inside you." Malleus' voice was filled with heat, with the promise of more.
Your moan was broken and raw, every bit of your energy seemed to leave you with that final release only to be replaced almost immediately with shame. Your body was still shaking but your voice was broken. You could feel Malleus still inside of you, you knew that Malleus had no intention of letting you off the leash quite yet. Your eyes were closed, your face was flushed, and you were breathing as if you were being suffocated.
You managed to find your voice, albeit barely. It was not the begging words, it was not the strength of the voice you had been using so easily a moment ago. It was the voice of a person completely overwhelmed by a pleasure you never knew existed.
"I... Yes, I need more." Your eyes fluttered open and you turned your head just enough to look up at Malleus. Your hand reached out and grasped Malleus' buttocks trying desperately to keep him close as you let the fae find his own release.
Malleus was holding back no longer whilst he chased his release as you begged for more. His pace was growing more frantic than ever before. His voice was a murmur and his grip on you was a vice. His voice was becoming an endless cascade of his own pleasure, and his hands were moving in circles, kneading your body as all the while he was growing closer towards climax.
Every push of his hips sent your body into further spasms of pleasure, each moment had sent you to another intense climax. It was as if your souls were meeting somewhere in the middle, as if your bodies were two halves trying to become one.
His voice turned into a yell and he gave out one last mighty push to bring him over the edge. Malleus' voice was hoarse and it was ragged, it was a sound that seemed to echo throughout the room. He let out a final loud breathy moan and then he collapsed down on top of you as his semen filled you to the brim and flooded out of your clenching hole.
"Oh… my love." He groaned as he found his breath again. "You were perfect." He breathed out.
Malleus was laying on top of you. Malleus' breath was heavy and he was completely out of air. Your body was still wracking with waves of pleasure, as if it was still trying to adjust to the sensations that had been unleashed within. Your eyes were clenched shut and your body was shaking slightly as if you were in a dream and trying to wake yourself.
You were still struggling to find your words. There was no breath left in your body. Your voice had given out and your body was completely exhausted. The only sound that came out of you were a few gasps and a broken, hoarse moan.
Your whole body was shaking and you could barely move. You had given Malleus everything you had and you had nothing left anymore. There was nothing in your head either, your senses were all overwhelmed and you were not even sure you were still in the same reality. You were just a broken mess, utterly spent.
After what felt like an hour, although you're still breathlessly in a daze and exhausted, you managed to let out a hoarse chuckle and spoke.
"That was amazing, it was the best I've ever felt."
Malleus raised his head and looked down at you lying beneath him. He was looking at you still feeling his own sense of euphoria from the experience. He felt as if he was still high from the sensation, as if his entire body was awash from head to toe. His voice was still husky, still rough, and every breath he was taking was filled with the after effects of everything that had come before. He could not describe just how good he felt.
"You were perfect." Malleus smiled down at you, completely unable to wipe the grin off his face.
He turned his head around, his eyes locked onto yours. He leaned in as close as he could get to you and he whispered:
"The best you've ever felt, so far. " His voice was a warm growl, the kind that only promised more of what you just had.
"Oh, my dear, this is only the beginning.”
#malleus draconia#twst x reader#twst imagines#twst fanfic#twisted wonderland x reader#twst smut#twst malleus#malleus x reader#malleus x you#disney twisted wonderland
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We're simply meant to be
I just had to write something about them. ❤️💜 This time it's longer than usual, and not proofread (sorry) but if you enjoy this little piece, you can read the rest on AO3.
~*~
In the afternoon, Roman is still quite relaxed. He polishes the blade of his sword, humming verses of Sally’s song. Hey, why not? He is only 51% sure that this is a kind of date tonight. It’s not as if Virgil was in any way clear with his all-but-nothing sentence.
»You're right, Roman. We can live like Jack and Sally if we want to.«
There. The word 'date' has not been used in any form.
Virgil had laughed at this point, to Roman’s utter bewilderment. A delightful little laugh that took up all of his attention and everything else outside had ceased to exist. And of course Roman had not known how to help himself other than to take the whole thing to the next level.
»And sit together, now and forever,« he had said, and had taken Virgil’s hands carefully in his. In this moment, Roman had only felt his heart pounding against his ribs in a whirling drum solo.
After that, Virgil had turned away in embarrassment and mumbled something that sounded like, »See you later.«
So maybe it is a date after all.
Perhaps.
(It’s certainly not.)
For seconds Roman bites his fingernails helplessly. He had seen so many cheesy romance movies in his life that he liked to consider himself an expert in the field. There was nothing to surprise him, as he knew all the signs and all the rules. And if you can no longer rely on cheesy romantic movies, then what?
But somehow all these rules never apply to Virgil.
How did they get here in the first place? Aren't they supposed to argue and fight like in the good old days? Sometimes, Roman likes to picture the deep, passionate rivalry he and Virgil have for each other. He imagines them having endless discussions about Disney characters, staring at each other in a fiery way. And when no one is around, Roman sighs deeply and longingly at this point and buries his heated face in velvety soft red silk pillows.
In the evening, Roman takes a look at his imaginary wardrobe and starts hyperventilating. He’s never had a no-date before. With nobody.
He has no idea what to wear and if he has any piece of clothing that says, 'When you look at me, I can’t breathe, and whenever you’re around me, I talk a lot more nonsense than usual, but if this is a date, I’d be totally fine with it.'
Lately, Virgil had just been too nice and peaceful around him. He means, nice… within the scope of his limited possibilities. Roman can’t say that this is terribly unpleasant, it’s just very… irritating. He has to do something. Or rather, he has to delegate this problem very quickly so that someone else does it for him.
Roman was great at delegating. This talent was practically innate. That's why he calls Logan.
»We have a… situation,« Roman explains dramatically. »I don't know what to wear!«
Logan throws a 'What do you want from me?' look at him. He raises his eyebrows wordlessly and completely unimpressed and makes absolutely no attempt to move even a millimetre from the spot.
»C’mon, Teach, I need your advice here!«
Usually, Logan would not have been his first choice in terms of clothing and taste, but he also has that unclouded and focused sight that Roman needed right now.
»Pleeeaaase!«
Logan sighs and Roman strongly assumes that this is supposed to mean agreement. Probably, Roman had convinced him with his astute argumentation and natural authority. That, or Logan, for once just doesn’t think a discussion is worth the trouble.
»What's the occasion?« he asks without further ado, pushing his glasses up in an unconscious gesture.
»Something… important,« Roman says vaguely.
#sanders sides#sanders sides fanart#sanders sides fanfic#prinxiety#roman sanders#virgil sanders#logan sanders#patton sanders#humor & fluff
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Make That Double, Ch7 - Yan!SatoSugu X Fem!Reader [AO3]
Word Count: around 7K
Warnings: non-con, somnophilia, handjobs, fingering, lactation kink, mommy kink (geto calls reader mamma)
AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59666119/chapters/153693205
It’s hard to look him in the eyes, but you know you don’t have a choice anymore. Bed time with Geto consists of him keeping you huddled close to you while he does some of his nightly reading. He looks so deceiving in these moments with you, ditching his traditional robe for casual clothes—an over-sized block cotton shirt and pants. He looks so normal. He looks like an everyday citizen who won the genetics lottery.
But you know that to be so far from the truth. You know the ugly that lies beneath the angelic features, and all those pretty lies he spews from those kissable lips of his. Beneath that mask lies a serpent prepared to strike its prey at any given time.
In another world, he may be anyone’s dream man but this is not that world for you.
Tonight he opts for rereading one of his epic fantasies that he adores to info dump to you. You don’t care to entertain him, wishing for it all to go in one ear and out the other, but it doesn’t matter. You’re here to fill some kind of void in his black heart—that is assuming he even has one anymore—and you’re not even sure if you’re fulfilling that role he’s forced you to play. He’s the one tugging at your strings, and while you can put up a bit of a fight, he’s quite the masterful puppeteer.
The punishment he’s inflicted upon you isn’t all that cruel, in retrospect, but you can’t feel much between your legs at all. You’re practically numb from the waist down. It’s the kindest he’s been since your captivity. After that ordeal, he’s still provided some semblance of aftercare—a little bit of a massage with some proper ointment, he’s even offered some chocolates if you had an appetite for them following something like that. After seeing him so disappointed with you when he’s just confessed to you that he’s found some kind of affection towards you.
You don’t find it flattering in the slightest, but if it means he’s going to show you a bit more mercy, you’re going to take advantage of it any way you can.
“God, the protagonist in this book can certainly make questionable decisions,” Geto muses, wetting his thumb before flicking to the next page. “I can’t seem to make sense of it each time I get to this part of the series.”
You wish you could groan. You almost do, but that’s asking for immediate death.
Who fucking cares?
Instead of saying what you really think, though, you just hum, nuzzling your head into his shoulder, trying to appeal to him. Trying to make him happy because that’s what you’re here to do. That’s all you’re meant for now.
But you’re still going to find a way out or so help you….
“Getting sleepy?” Geto teases with a light laugh, but it doesn’t have that mocking tone to it. It’s….endearment. It’s sickening. You want to vomit. How can a man act like this when he’s just made you lose feeling in your lower body because he let his paranoia get the best of him (even if he’s kind of right)? “Rest, Mamma. I’m going to be up for a bit longer. Although…don’t be surprised if I help myself a little to you while you’re resting.”
Fucking psychopath. Of course you expect nothing less of him. This is all he does. He hasn’t stopped himself before!
But, you don’t protest, you know better than to do something like that now. You do something worse. You squeeze your eyes shut. You lift your head off of his shoulder. You pucker your lips, expecting a kiss good night, and he accepts your invitation, smiling against your lips as he hums in delight. You’re about to pull away but he catches your lips again, moving his languidly against yours, soft, fervent, desperate. Faint rustling of him setting aside his large red leather book as his hands cup your face, thumbs brushing against your soft, buttery, supple skin. Geto almost seems to marvel at you, the way a follower may a God. He breaks the kiss barely moments later, lips barely centimeters apart as his forehead rests against yours, his violet eyes boring into yours as they soften the longer they stare. They shine so brilliantly that it might as well serve as the only source of light in the bedroom then, apart from the soft amber light emitting from the side table lamps on either side of the master bed.
“I adore you,” he whispers in a reverent tone, making your breath catch in your throat. In the worst way possible. “I don’t expect you to feel the same.”
Because you never are going to feel the same. He knows that well, all too well.
You don’t respond, turning away. His fingers slip away from your face and he doesn’t react as you rest on your side facing away from him. But you do feel him staring as you will yourself to sleep, clamping your eyes shut, desperate for the comfort of darkness to consume you. It doesn’t matter what he helps himself to while you’re in a blissful state of sleep.
Your body tenses as the pads of his fingers ghost up your arm, as he bites back a longing sigh. A part of you almost wants to pity him, but how can you pity a man as pathetic and lowly as him? Your mind can’t even register him as a man the way he can’t register the majority of humanity as worthy.
For someone as prideful as him, that must penetrate like a wasp’s stinger.
It does make your heart swell with a bit of pride, but it’s not enough. You need to deal a stronger blow; you need something that will really, really eat at him. What might that be?
He draws his body closer to you; you feel his lips ghosting the nape of your neck before he slides all the way down until he’s caught between your legs. You try to sleep, but a moan escapes your lips when his mouth closes over your folds, suckling on them with need.
“Suguru….”
“Rest,” he grunts, between desperate sucks and kittenish licks. You can already feel the slick beginning to build. “Mamma, I got it from here.”
You cling the covers to your chest, your fingers digging into the plush velvety smooth fabric as he suckles on your clit particularly hard. You try not to focus on the sensations. You try to sleep. You try to listen. He’s going to take what he wants regardless whether you’re awake for it or not.
Eventually, you’re lulled to sleep by the light squelching noises of his tongue sweeping along your folds.
Yet another visit from Tweedledum, never mind the numerous protests from Tweedledee.
It’s not like anyone can control what a grown adult does. These two beg to differ when it comes to you, but to them, you’re not an adult with agency. You’re just something for them to bend and to shape to their will and nothing more. Perhaps in Geto’s mind, you’re something beyond that. Perhaps something beyond a pretty pet, a gorgeous trophy, but you refuse to entertain the idea. Men like them, who believe they’re above humanity, above morality, even…is there any use trying to understand the world in which they hail from?
“Princess?” Gojo calls, patting the seat next to him on that plush velvet sofa. You can’t even hide the wince as you amble over to join him there, but keep a slight distance. Giving a displeased sound—it’s a terrible sound—he hooks his arm around your waist, digging his nails into your skin and scoots you in closer until your bodies are flush against each other.
“We don’t have to do anything all that scandalous today,” he says with a cheeky grin, his tone cheery as if he hopes that might lift your spirits a bit. He can tell something’s amiss with you, something other than the usual. He knows you don’t want to be here in the first place, that you’re already unhappy, but there’s something else he’s caught onto because Tweedledum’s smarter than you ever dare to give him credit for.
A shadow crosses his face when he doesn’t find your reciprocating like you normally do—especially since Geto isn’t in the dungeon presently. Still attending to some matters with his family so he’s going to be late. “It’s just going to be a nice, relaxing movie night, yeah? Lots of sweets to chow on, though you’re the sweetest of them all as always!”
“That’s nice of you to say, Satoru,” you manage to reply through clenched teeth. But you don’t do anything more. You don’t try to snuggle into him; you don’t try to kiss him or feel him up which he usually enjoys. Those blinding sky blue eyes of his glimmer with concern as the tip of his finger glides down the side of your cheek.
“Why the long face, gorgeous?” he whispers, tone solemn for once. It’s out of character…he seems almost…shaken.
That’s a new one. In another world, you might have been elated that you can get that kind of reaction, but after the other night… you don’t know whether you should wade through these murky waters.
“It’s nothing, Satoru,” you speak, your lips twitching into a forced smile.
“It’s Suguru, isn’t it?” Satoru growls, shaking his head. “What’d he do?”
“He was upset at something I did. That’s all,” you explain, “H-he thought I went against his orders.”
“Oh.” His lips purse. “He’s not supposed to hurt you. He can hurt any other non-sorcerers for all that I care, I can’t control what he does since he’s a grown man, but you’re supposed to be out of that equation. We agreed on that. I can talk to him, you know.”
“He didn’t hurt me. Not…not physically,” you say, a half-lie of sorts, averting your gaze to the television screen. Looks like it’s a Lord of the Rings night again and he’s just about to reach the middle of the third film, where Pippin climbs that tower in Minas Tirith and lights that fire. One of your exes has made you watch these movies as well as The Hobbit trilogy numerous times, so you know the scenes by heart. You can practically recite them line by line. You can do that with Star Trek and Star Wars too.
Satoru leans in, his weight dipping next to you.
“What did he do?” he growls into your ear again. When your eyes land on his, they’ seem to emit a glow. “We agreed—no harm is going to come to you. You’re supposed to help him.”
“I…” You gulp. “Satoru, it’s not important.”
“Yes it is,” he grumbles, gripping your knee, squeezing reassuringly. “You’re important to us.”
Oh, how you wish you can believe that. Gojo leans in to kiss you on your cheek, and then on your temple. They’re soft, fleeting, gentle, like he actually loves you as much as he claims to love you, much like Geto claims to love you.
But how can people who claim to love someone do things like this and expect things to just blow over?
Why do you think you have a right to be upset? You don’t have rights here. Not anymore.
“H-he just, um,” you stammer, hugging your chest. “He…he…um…”
“It’s okay,” he sighs in clear defeat. “I think I get what you’re trying to tell me. I’ll talk with him when he gets back down here. Okay?”
He kisses the crown of your head and you utter a low whimper. He glances at you with another concerned look on his face. You hate it.
As if this is going to solve anything…
“Satoru, I, um…” you begin, tentatively resting your hand on his lap, fingers brushing over his pelvis which makes his breath hitch. His sharp eyes darken in anticipation.
Should you do something to thank him? In case Geto does something?
“Can, I, um…” you gulp, sporting on your best determined look. You have to be a good pet, right? You can do that. You can definitely do that. No matter how much it permanently stains your pride. “Can I…touch you…?”
Gojo inhales sharply as he pulls out his cock, guiding your hand to it.
“Of course you can, Princess,” he coos while flashing you a toothy grin, stroking himself to hardness. You’re not surprised he was already half-mast when he pulled himself out. He’s just getting himself nice and ready for you. “You know I won’t say no, but you don’t have to, okay?”
“I-it’s fine,” you breathe, grasping his cock at its base. “I…I want to.”
“Fuck,” he hisses, raking his fingers through your hair. “You really are the perfect girl.”
“U-um,” you can’t believe it, you’re being shy, but he probably can’t blame you because you haven’t been forced into sucking dick since the first time with him. You don’t really know what to do, so instead of diving right into it, you lick a line up his shaft, which earns an eager whimper out of him. That encourages you to continue, to just pepper soft little kisses around along the skin, ignoring the salty tang hitting your tongue each time. You’ve come to find you’re not a fan of it, but maybe it’s because you’re not attracted to him in the slightest. Being attracted to him might help in this regard but this feels more like a duty as their pretty pet.
But you know the more you can please them, the more they’re willing to do for you. At least, that’s more true for Gojo than for Geto, regardless of what he says about his ‘affections’ toward you.
“I-is this okay? I don’t really, um, know what I’m doing,” you admit, laving your tongue around the leaking head of his cock. He bites back a little whine, jumping in his place.
“It—it’s fine. You’re doing great. Better than great, Princess,” he praises, lips parted slightly as he reclines a little bit into the couch. He’s not even focused on the movie anymore and all of his attention is on you. You kind of like that you can take control every now and then here. Even if Geto is off taking care of his own business, if he’s here, you have no real agency because he’s the one monitoring everything you’re doing with Satoru.
“I guess Suguru hasn’t done this with you much. He’s always been more of a giver in this regard,” he chuckles, eyes twinkling in fondness at the thought. “I should know.”
You don’t comment on that, suckling experimentally on his tip as more precum leaks out. He jolts in his spot again.
“Fuck, baby. That feels so good. You could just use your hands too, you know,” he suggests, much like a teacher.
Well, he does mentor students at wherever he works, so that makes sense, you suppose. But in this context, that feels rather odd.
“Oh…..um. How?” Gosh, you really are playing up the naiveté there, huh? As long as he believes it…
Gojo laughs, his shoulders shaking with mirth as he motions his own hand in a ‘jerking’ motion.
“Like you would a pump. Just pump me with your hand,” he tells you, grinning wide. “You don’t have to use your mouth, though it would be nice.”
You respond with another little suckle over his tip while using a hand to ‘pump’ him like he instructed. He throws his head back, groaning low, his hand reaching over to smack your ass in approval.
“Fuck yeah. Good girl,” he purrs, fondling your ass a bit too roughly which makes you squeak. He laughs.
Faint footsteps descend down the stairs, and you don’t have to look up. You feel Geto gawking a bit at the sight, a little disappointed that you’ve started without him but he probably expected nothing less, either. You don’t stop pumping your hand up and down his length, amazed at how silky and smooth it feels even this hard and swollen looking it is. Your fingers lightly squeeze his shaft, eyebrows furrowing at the texture. You feel like you’re doing a science experiment, but the results are more pleased groans erupting from deep in Gojo’s throat that are soon cut off when Geto twists his head and kisses him.
“It seems she’s becoming more comfortable with you, Satoru,” he murmurs into his lips. “Don’t take that lightly.”
“You know I’m not,” he breathes, his face flushed. “She’s a quick learner, you know. Her hands feel so soft.”
Gojo’s hand that swatted your ass earlier pulls the fabric of your panties aside, his finger teasing the tight ring of muscle of your ass.
“You must need a little attention too, Princess,” he grunts out, biting his lip as he glances down at you with a dangerous look in those sharp blue eyes.
“Suguru,” he drawls his lover’s name lazily, jerking his head to a direction. He gives your ass another playful squeeze and you let out another yelp. “No reason to hold back, right? I mean, she’s primarily yours. I’m just part of the package deal here.”
“I wonder if she’s ready for us both,” Suguru muses out loud with a raised eyebrow.
You feel your muscles tense, but you don’t stop attending to Gojo.
“Actually,” Suguru—thank God—retracts that idea immediately, likely upon seeing your reaction as if he gives a damn about your feelings, as if you matter to him, as he joins the two of you on the edge of the sofa, prying your ass cheeks apart to get a good view of either of your holes. You whimper as he spits into your asshole, his lips twitching into a devious grin as he dips two thumbs into the tight ring to stretch it. “It might be too soon for that. She needs a little more preparation. She still struggles to take my size when it’s just me and her. You might be a little easier to take, though.”
“You are definitely right there. Your dick is way too thick for her,” Gojo concedes with a hum, moaning as you glide your tongue around his length again. His dick twitches; he’s so close already. “We could just use more dildos or something. Get her used to it a little more.”
“True,” Geto replies, but something’s amiss in that tone of his. It’s softer. Affectionate, even. You don’t want to admit it, but it is. It’s missing that hidden layer of greed, of ulterior motives because a part of you still believes he can’t have any real feelings—not even toward Gojo.
You don’t like it for some reason. However subtle the change in Geto is. Sometimes you much rather he be cruel than considerate, because his kindness feels far too comical. Unnerving.
But maybe, once upon a time, he really may have been a considerate, kind, compassionate man. You don’t know anything about these two or what they do or what they’re capable of doing or why they have ended up the way they are.
You don’t really care to dig into that rabbit hole. It’s not of your concern. They say so themselves.
You suppress the confusing thoughts swirling in your mind like a vortex. It’s not something you should be focusing on, anyway, instead focusing on bringing Gojo to a climax, which, it already seems like he’s nearly there. You give a few more pumps, wincing at the wet noises the skin makes before shyly closing your mouth over his tip.
“Fuuuuck. That’s it, baby. You know just what to do. Don’t doubt yourself like that, alright?” he praises as seeds of his orgasm shoots onto your tongue. You wince again. You find it all far from arousing, but that doesn’t matter.
You keep suckling on his tip as he shoots more of his seed into your mouth, panting as he comes down from that electrifying hot high. His gaze flits to Geto who’s watching him with amusement twinkling in his darkened violet eyes but he’s still hovering between your legs, far from finished with you. Your body once again tenses; you do not like that he’s actually refrained from touching or playing with you the entire time you focused on pleasing Gojo.
Like he’s…being considerate, giving you breathing room.
It’s so unlike him.
You jolt in place as a sharp hand comes down to smack your pussy. You immediately pull away from Gojo’s cock, ignoring the light pop and the line of spit still connecting your lips to the tip of his cock which you break off with a swipe of your tongue as you meet his eyes.
He smiles down at you, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment. Your eyebrows flash in confusion. That’s a smile that doesn’t reek of deception or otherwise.
“We can stop here for today,” he suggests, “Besides, Satoru has other duties he should be attending to right now.” That gentle smile immediately melds into something a bit firmer, stricter, as he gazes at Gojo. “You do have to get back to Jujutsu Tech grounds before Yaga realizes you’ve been gone longer than you should have been, right?”
Whoever the heck Yaga is. His boss or something? That’s all you can infer from that.
“It’s not like it’s surprising to them if I show up late,” Gojo quips, “Besides, I want to stay longer with you, Suguru. We have to talk.”
Geto’s eyebrows furrow at that and you gulp.
You glance up at Gojo, eyes shimmering in concern. He doesn’t acknowledge you, keeping his eyes locked on Geto’s.
Uh oh.
Trouble in paradise, indeed.
Geto sends you off under Miguel’s watch, catering to the twins while he remains behind with Gojo elsewhere in the underground area beneath the temple. There’s another section you haven’t entered yet. This is not how he’s hoped to spend his quality time with the love of his life; he’s hoped for something more intimate and far less serious than this, but Gojo often did choose the worst times to be serious about something and apparently that something involves your well-being.
Which, of course, Geto has come to care about as well.
“Well talk,” Geto ushers, folding his arms over his chest as he stares Gojo down, his nostrils flaring. “We could be doing something else, but I’m forgoing our original plan to hear you out.”
“Something we should have done years ago,” Gojo mumbles, shaking his head. “Which is talk it out. You wont let me in. I just want to get why. But before that, we have to talk about her. She shouldn’t be afraid of you. I mean, she shouldn’t disobey you, but she should feel like, she’s, you know…”
“Part of the family,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know.”
“So what the fuck, Suguru? I don’t care what else you do, but she’s supposed to help you sort your own shit when I’m not around. And I know once Yaga gets a hold of me I’m not going to be able to come back around as much anymore. I want to keep being your rock, Suguru, but to do that, you have to let me in.”
“So then,” Suguru scoffs, twisting around with his back facing Gojo for a moment. “If that’s true, then why did you vent to her about me first?”
Gojo’s eyes flashes. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
Geto’s gaze flits back to him, assessing his features. He can’t stay mad at a face like his—even when he’s angry, he looks like a lost puppy who’s been mishandled. Geto ignores the way his chest burns at the sight. He hates hurting Satoru. Whether or not it’s unintentional is irrelevant.
“Why didn’t you trust me enough?” Geto demands, softening his tone as the muscles on his face relaxes. “If you had been so upset with me, why didn’t you just bring this up sooner?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” Gojo claps back, glowering at him. Geto winces; that’s likely deserved, all things considered. Well…it’s obviously deserved. He has massacred hundreds to make a political statement and half for the sheer fun of it. “I wanted you to open up to me but when I tried you just told me it was ‘the summer heat.’ Summer heat my fucking balls.”
“So you did sense something, even that long ago,” Geto sighs, more and more guilt pooling into his stomach. How foolish he is to not give credit for Satoru where credit is due. It’s his fault for shutting everyone out, even Shoko; he has to admit to that fault of his.
“Of course I did! Obviously I just didn’t expect something like that,” Gojo replies, his shoulders sagging a bit. Geto takes a step closer, a hand reaching out to him. Gojo shuts his Infinity completely off during these moments but he doesn’t appear receptive to touch right then. Geto bites back a sigh. He doesn’t like to hurt those he loves, truly loves, and Satoru stands above everyone in his life. Now you are in the same plane as Satoru’s existence and he’s doing something wrong in trying to get you to lean on him, to trust him.
“What are you trying to say?” Geto replies, eyes downcast as his arm falls to his side.
“I’m trying to say why didn’t you just come to me in the first place?” Gojo answers, but his tone isn’t accusatory. He never has been with Geto. He’s always tried to understand. Even back then, he’s tried, but it’s Geto who pushed him away. “We could have worked it out then.”
“Now we’re going in circles,” Geto scoffs, gritting his teeth. His expression melds back into a softer one as he approaches Satoru, cupping his face. Satoru doesn’t pull away; he can’t, even if he wishes to, and Suguru should have seen that sooner.“It’s because of her, isn’t it? Perhaps we need to set the record with her. I already punished her once, but now she’s making you think you’ve done something wrong.”
“That wasn’t her doing,” Gojo counters hastily, “All she did was actually listen. Which, you know, I could do that too! If you let me listen. And like I already told you, she’s not supposed to be afraid of you, remember? This doesn’t warrant punishment. In fact, she should be rewarded because now we’re actually talking.”
“Satoru,” Geto starts, brushing his cheeks. “It’s not that simple.”
“It isn’t,” Gojo concedes, “But we can figure it out. Like we always do. Remember? And please, for fuck’s sake, go easy on her. She…really isn’t happy.”
“She isn’t?” Geto snarks, a little sharper than intended. He deflates when he notices how Gojo winces. “No, of course she isn’t. It’s foolish to think otherwise, but it’s not like I wish to bite. I don’t know why I do. I’m not an angry dog, you know.”
“You’re not,” Gojo agrees, resting a hand over one of Suguru’s. “You’re a cowardly dog. You bite because you’re scared. Just try wooing her a little, you know? You should have just taken the normie route and asked her out on a real date instead of dragging her into this.”
“That’s not my style,” Geto huffs. Gojo laughs, but it’s hollow.
“Proper communication? Yeah, I am well aware,” Gojo quips, grinning a little.
Geto glares at him.
“Satoru…” he warns.
“You know,” we don’t have to be arguing,” Gojo remarks, “I want to fix what happened. The charges may not be able to be lifted, but we can still…work around it. You know?”
“I know,” Geto relents, pulling Gojo in closer, so close he can inhale his expensive Prada cologne that he doesn’t find as nauseating and overpowering as his other scents. “But it’s too late to make amends for that.”
“No, it isn’t,” Gojo insists, practically on his way to getting on his knees for Geto, at this point. He may as well if it makes a statement. ““I can find a way around it. The only person who can execute you is me, but I can postpone that, obviously.”
“Postpone as in never allow it?” Geto interjects in a sullen, yet knowing, even teasing, tone.
“Exactly,” he exclaims, “Just think about it! You could just become a Sensei, with me. And you don’t have to worry about getting executed. Not with me on your side.”
Geto considers the options for a moment.
“No.”
Gojo’s confidence over his solution completely falters.
“The hell do you mean no?” he jabs, “No one else can actually kill you but me you know! And I obviously don’t want to, so there!”
“It won’t be on my terms,” he answers simply.
Gojo goes silent. His mouth hangs open for a moment, as if to counter with something, but then he shuts his mouth again as he ponders over what else he can say to convince Geto. There’s not much more to this, isn’t there? Geto doesn’t want to be a puppet; he’s made that abundantly clear. Gojo might find his resolve admirable if not for the lengths he went to just to prove his point.
“So is that what this is about?” Gojo mutters, sulking. “I guess I kind of get it. You don’t want them to pull the strings and you want to forge your own path. I gotta say, this was not the wisest decision, babe, but…I understand why. Kind of?”
“Precisely,” he affirms, “Let them think whatever they like about me, Satoru. I want no business with them anymore.”
“But…” he starts, but Suguru cuts him off with a chaste kiss. Satoru melts into it before Geto pulls away.
“Satoru, you shouldn’t play into their shit either. But you know exactly why I didn’t want you to follow me.”
“I know,” he replies with a frown. “But…”
“You shouldn’t have to be a puppet either, Satoru. You shouldn’t be a weapon to them.”
“No,” he agrees, “But for some reason, I find comfort in it.”
“Everyone—sorcerer or human—clings to what they find familiar,” Geto murmurs with a little grin.
“You know, regardless of being a sorcerer, you still are human, baby,” Satoru teases while matching his grin.
Suguru responds with a dark laugh, kissing him again.
“Don’t make me kill you,” he murmurs seductively into his lips.
You’re back in the bedroom when evening falls and Geto finds you splayed over the bed, flipping through one of his books sittig on the nightstand on your side of the bed. He beams at the sight, perhaps misconstruing it as a sign that you’re making yourself more at home here if you’re making more use of his belongings. He treasures his books like he does his adopted girls.
“Have you read that book before?” he asks as he shuts the door behind him, disrobing and setting the material aside. You don’t look up from the page you’re skimming, mostly because you’re not interested in seeing his pasty face but also because you’re actually quite invested in the mystery.
“Only heard about it,” you admit, “I understand why people are frustrated with the main character. She’s so obviously getting played by that guy.”
He chuckles, “It’s a frustrating thing to watch unfold, indeed. She doesn’t seem to pick up on that even when others have warned her.”
You shrug, stopping at the chapter you’re on to glance up at him as he settles onto his side of the bed.
“Love makes you blind, I guess,” you comment, gazing up at his face. “What did you and Satoru talk about, darling?”
“I should apologize,” he starts, frowning. “I’ve been harsh on you when I shouldn’t have been. I was wrong for that. I don’t expect you to forgive me so easily, but—”
“—it’s fine,” you reply a little too quickly, but you’re trying to stay in his good graces for a reason. You have only gotten a hint of what his ‘bad side’ looks like. You don’t want a repeat of it. “I’ve already forgiven you. I-I was out of line. I’m sorry.”
“No, you weren’t,” he replies, “You did a good thing. You did what I should have done. You did nothing wrong, Mamma. I did.”
“O-okay,” you whisper, a little pathetic because a part of you is still frightened he can switch gears at the drop of a hat. And he definitely can and has. “I understand.”
A silence falls over the two of you for a few moments. Those few moments feel agonizingly long, drawn out like a scroll rolling across a table. But some rustling beside you breaks the silence as he loops an arm over your frame and snuggles you close until you’re nestled into him.
His finger fiddles with the gold chain around your neck, a fond smile playing at his lips. Yeah. Of course. You’re his pretty little thing, after all. Just his pet. A little appendage to his messy bond with Satoru.
His eyes dip lower, and that smile only widens. You’re bare all over; you’ve forgone clothes the moment you enter the room now as opposed to just stripping to your undergarments. Of course he’s pleased with the change; it just means it’s another way he’s going to misconstrue as you becoming more comfortable with being here, under his ‘care.’
He trails kisses along your milky collarbone, suckling on your softer, tender spots, and you clench your fists, grunting a bit. You have only just begun to gain some feeling back in your bottom half from his punishment last night, and now he’s intent on making you lose feeling in your legs again if this goes any further tonight. And you know it will. That’s how it always is.
Just an appendage. Just a pet.
He doesn’t love you, no matter what he says, and it doesn’t matter that he tries to find other ways to accommodate you. He still takes what he wants in the end. One way or another.
He pulls away briefly, his tongue darting between his lips as his eyes trail down between your breasts.
He kisses the area just above them, and you freeze, feeling your blood run cold. You feel like you could crash right then and there; you can’t take another minute of this but you know you don’t have much of a say. It depends entirely on Suguru, whether he’s truly in good spirits or not and you can’t even tell half the time.
“Suguru, I…” you sharply inhale as he kisses lower, lower… humming to himself as if he can’t help it, marveling at you. You try not to sound too audacious when you decline this. “I-I can’t. I…”
“You’re afraid of me,” he remarks, lifting his head to stare at you, his forehead creasing as he frowns.
Your eyes widen.
“No!” you exclaim, but he only raises an eyebrow and you try not to deflate. “No, Suguru, no… nothing like… that…”
“I don’t want you to be,” he mutters, resting his face into your lap like a child, like a beggar, even, is more appropriate. Your eyes triple in size at this. Geto has never behaved this way before. He takes your hands into his own, running his thumb along your knuckles.
“I don’t want you to be afraid of me,” he goes on, resting his forehead against your hands. “Mamma, you are in my world now. I want you to feel like you belong here. The twins adore you like a mother. I adore you already. I wouldn't take that lightly. Satoru has come to find some kind of affection for you too, but the man is too damn prideful to really say anything to your face about that.”
You don’t have anything to say to that. (Not that you really give a damn, but as long as you stay in their good graces, can you really complain? It makes things less Hellish for you, ultimately.)
“Moreover,” You try not to groan, so he isn’t finished babbling then; he clears his throat. “He told me you were unhappy. Which is expected, given the circumstances. Unfortunately I don’t think anything will have gone differently if I had done things normally. While I can’t change the past, I can only hope you’re willing to let me make things a little easier for you here.”
This feels too easy.
You can’t anger him.
“Suguru,” you start, bringing your hand to his cheek and tilting his head. His eyebrows flash as he tries to understand what you’re doing, but he can piece together a situation very quickly as you present one of your stiff nipples near his face. His face flushes a little, eyes half-mast as he glances at you with pure adoration before slurping hard onto your nipple, making a gasp leave your lips.
He hasn’t used this in a while, so he must have really needed it today. As long as it means he doesn’t try to hurt you, because you don’t have to make this as bad as it is.
A hand finds your waist, steadying himself as he suckles hard on your nipple with more need, and your lips part, breathy, broken whines filling the room and seeming to encourage him. Because he chuckles against your skin, grinning.
“Does Mamma enjoy taking care of me?” he growls before closing his mouth over your nipple again with a long, lewd suck.
It’s like the typical routine now. Once he finishes with that bud, he pops off and latches onto your other one, milking you for all that you’re worth until he feels like he can carry the world on his shoulders again. Whatever these supposed burdens of his are, you don’t care, it doesn’t concern you.
“Suguru…” you utter softly, a bit embarrassed by your lack of real reaction, and his pupils roll upward to observe your face. You don’t realize how flushed and debauched you are, and he might’ve made a comment if not for how occupied he is sucking on your tit like his life depended on it like he usually did. But again, this has been the first time in a few weeks since he’s taken advantage of this. He’s been keeping distance, respecting your space, up until the moment where you crossed an ‘unknown’ boundary between he and Gojo.
The hand resting on the dip of your waist snakes lower to the fleshy, meaty part of your thigh, his rough callouses brushing against your soft skin. He hums against your little bud, nibbling slightly on it as he adjusts you, sliding you into his lap and groaning as your cunt brushes against the growing tent in his pants. He bucks upward, growling from the delicious friction and making you gasp, and he grins before pulling on your nipple with his teeth as he moves away. A little playful twinkle in his eyes as he does before he finally releases the oversensitive bud, licking off the leftover droplets of milk coating the corners of his lips, a bit dribbling on his chin.
He buries his face between your tits again, kissing the skin between them, biting and licking the marks he leaves behind as his other hand moves to play with your folds, already lightly soaked. He hums, obviously tickled pink at the discovery and you can’t find yourself to be more embarrassed by your physiological reactions. Two dexterous fingers slide easily into your slicked entrance and you breathe sharply through your nose, hiding your face into his neck which makes him chuckle.
“Don’t be so shy with me, Mamma,” he teases as he adjusts his position, kissing into your neck as his fingers twist and curl inside of you, making you jolt in your place. “You haven’t been whenever Satoru’s been around.”
The dark tone in his quip catches you off-guard. It shouldn’t, and yet fearful eyes meet his. Is he…?
There’s a deep scowl now in place of his malicious grin. You don’t know which is worse. Stone cold violet eyes bore into yours, and you feel yourself shrinking more from fear.
Hasn’t he just told you he doesn’t want you to be afraid? That he wants you to feel like you’re home?
Perhaps that’s still true, but…
“Regardless of you doing the right thing for us or not,” he grunts, plunging those two slender fingers of his deep into your spongy walls, making you wriggle in place but he secures his hold on you. Your walls are clenching around them. He doesn’t relent that agonizing pace, seeking your release. “Satoru isn’t supposed to be benefitting from this arrangement more than I, Mamma. Understand this- you belong to me. First and foremost. Satoru is part of the deal with me, yes, but that doesn’t mean he gets to toy with you whenever he wants to. Most of all you shouldn’t initiate anything with him—I’ve seen you. You mustn’t question my authority when it comes to this relationship.”
But it isn’t a relationship for you. It’s an obligation.
Between Satoru and Suguru? Sure, that’s a relationship. A weird one. The weirdest one you have probably ever seen in your life, but that’s still a relationship between them.
“I-I’m not questioning your authority over m-me, Suguru—!” You come in a hot flash, clenching tight around his fingers and at least that frightening scowl of his twitches into a satisfied, toothy grin as he fucks his fingers into your cunt for a few moments longer before sliding them out. Bringing his fingers to his lips, he groans as he sucks on your intimate juices; You can’t look. So you don’t. But then you hear the little whisper of clothes as he yanks his pants down, pulling out his fully stiff cock and patting the head against your slick cunt.
“Good,” he hisses as the head breaches your hole. “Then we’re on the same page. You’re mine, Mamma. Just mine. Satoru is out of the question.”
You answer with a pathetic whine as he plunges deep inside you. He laughs darkly, huddling you close, whispering disgusting little words to you as he continues to take everything from you.
#geto x you#gojo x you#satoru gojo x you#gojo x reader#satoru gojo x reader#suguru geto x reader#suguru geto x you#yandere geto#yandere gojo#yandere gojo satoru#yandere suguru geto#erixtales#geto smut#gojo smut#jjk smut#satosugu smut#satosugu x reader#satosugu x you#yandere x darling#yandere x you
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I want to add on that to me, talking about Moash killing Elhokar is more interesting because there is actually room to talk about the morality of revenge and how Moash's life has lead to this point and what options somebody has when someone with immense power has abused it.
When Moash kills Teft, he's 1. Under the influence of an evil god who took away all of his emotions 2. Just fighting in a war. Killing Teft is inarguably bad. I love Teft. But I honestly don't hold any ill feelings towards Moash for it because of number 1 up there. He's not exactly in his right mind right now, and there isn't really much room for fun discussion about character motivations because of that and number 2.
Can i get an explanation on how people think Moash isn't a bad person, importantly not bad character. I'm not saying he's worse than the other bad people in stormlight, dear god there's a lot of those, but none of them except perhaps dalinar, are treated as good people. Even dalinar isnt made out as a good person by the books that's the fandom version, the book version of dalinar is when he "spices up" his romantic life with a characteristically high body count.
Tldr: im sick of moash killing teft getting ignored and people focusing on elhokar
#row spoilers#moash isnt being possessed by odium per say#but moash certainly doesnt have ahold of all of the strings in his head#which makes discussion about why hes made certain choices just not very deep#am i actually answering the original question i dunno i just woke up#stormlight archive
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Heyo! Here's my fic for @fairytalesfromthesmp feat. some of Kenjo's sketches for the project. @kenjo-arts and @rutadales did some incredible art for this fic, please go check it out!
TITLE: through the zeros and ones SUMMARY: When Dream slays a dragon, it's nothing personal. He's just trying to provide for his adventuring party: get enough food to last through the winter and neutralize a hostile enemy in the process. It should be simple, right? He certainly doesn't expect the dragon to use its dying breath to curse him. Now he's a dragon too, thanks to eating cursed dragon flesh - and the only way to reverse the spell is to do a favor for the Ender Dragon, a mythical beast who rules a dimension beyond the bounds of reality. The journey to the End is long and arduous, but Dream has no choice. Along the way, he meets a warrior, a crow, a jailer, a ghost, and a prince. WORD COUNT: 16k, complete
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song 15! 10:36 (beabadoobee) + dan heng (spotify wrapped event)
i know you thought it was just us, i didn’t think you’d fall in love, you’re just a warm body to hold at night when i’m feeling all alone
Dan Heng knows you often have trouble sleeping.
You aren’t like March 7th, who has probably the most normal sleeping habits, or the Trailblazer, who is a little paranoid in a new environment but can conk out in two seconds flat, and you certainly aren’t like Dan Heng, who foregoes sleep frequently by choice. You like to sleep, but you just can’t do it well.
Your first night on the Express, he heard a clatter coming from the hallway and went out to find you rummaging through the storage closet looking for an extra pillow.
He frowned. “Is yours too flat?”
Your face flushed a little, and he had the fleeting thought that you looked pretty like that.
“No, I’ve just always had some trouble sleeping comfortably, but uh…. it gets a little bit better when I’m—“ you paused and gave an awkward little cough. “—hugging something.”
Dan Heng didn’t really know what to say, so he went back into the Archives and brought out his own pillow. At your protests towards accepting it, he simply replied that he wasn’t going to sleep that night. “We stop at Belobog tomorrow. I’ll get a new one there.”
Then, as he was walking back to his room, he turned his head back and cleared his throat. “Ah, goodnight.”
As he glanced at his reflection in the data bank, he noted that his cheeks were a little pinker than usual.
It’s exactly because you have trouble sleeping that he’s stuck in this predicament: lying in your bed as stiff as a board with your sleeping body clinging to him.
Earlier today, he sat beside you on a high speed airship on some obscure planet, and you held onto his arm to keep from being tossed around. He felt something hit his shoulder a few minutes later and found you fast asleep. He turned red, scowled at March when she took a photo and upon your mortified apologies when waking up had given you an offer.
“It was the best sleep I’ve had in ages,” you told him sheepishly.
Dan Heng is a logical, coolheaded man. So there was really no excuse for when he blurted out, “I can sleep in your bed tonight if it helps.”
Now, his heart is beating a mile a minute and he swears the heat from his face has raised the room temperature by about five degrees Celsius.
And as he lies there, watching your peaceful face, he curses himself because he knows that he would put himself through this a million times just so you could be like this.
This thought comes paired with a horrible realisation. You need him in order to sleep, but he needs you in order to live. He needs you more than you need him, and he isn’t sure how he feels about having that weakness.
Dan Heng breathes in and tries to calm his beating heart. He can figure this out in the morning. Right now, it’s just us.
He relaxes his muscles and allows himself to feel your warmth. He closes his eyes and holds you as he drifts off to sleep.
#dan heng x reader#honkai star rail imagines#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#hsr imagines#hsr imagine#honkai star rail#dan heng#honkai x reader#written works !#2023 spotify wrapped event !
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Slay the Archivist (TMA and STP Crossover AU)
I haven't seen a fully fleshed out Magnus Archives and Slay the Princess Crossover, so as someone whose binged both, its my duty to create it.
Backstory
After the end of MAG200, Jon, Martin, Annabelle/the Web and some remnants of Jonah Magnus/Elias are shunted into the multiverse, and into a new world where they can spread their fear. Being exposed to the Fear Entities in such an upfront way that no other mortals have ever managed to achieve, Jon, as the Avatar of the Eye, is prioritized by the Fear Entities and proceeds to absorb them into his Avatarhood, basically becoming a God of Fear itself. While his old self and humanity isn’t completely gone, it’s certainly much more diluted amongst the new influx of power.
Annabelle of course, as the Avatar of the Web, which was once the Brain of the Fear Entities but has essentially been usurped by Jon, decides to trap him and Martin in a sort of pocket dimension. Both of them forget their names, and have their memories wiped, now convinced they are still working in the Institute and having no memory of their relationship. Using Jonah Magnus as a sort of puppet, Annabelle uses his voice to guide Martin into destroying Jon once and for all.
Speaking of, what is Martin in this case? Martin’s personal connection to the Lonely, Annabelle empowering him with the Web, and Jon subconsciously empowering him through the Eye means that Martin, like Jon, is empowered by multiple Fears, which gives him more of a chance to kill Jon then she does. Yet, Martin still retains his humanity for the most part and therefore Jon's power relates specifically to Martin's own fear, making him a sort of antithesis to Jon: If Jon is the God of The Things That Are Fear, then Martin is the God of The Things That Are Not Fear.
The Construct
Within the construct Annabelle created is essentially a dollhouse-like recreation of the Magnus Institute. Jon and Martin both are in the mindset of their season 1 selves, with Jon being distant and bitchy and Martin being insecure and a bit of a pushover. Both are actually Gods, but have no clue to their true natures.
Annabelle, using Elias’ voice, calls Martin to his office and demands he kills Jon in order to protect the world, taking the role of the Narrator to guide Martin into doing the job right. In the hallway is a knife on a desk, which Martin has the option to take or not.
Jon, being an Avatar of all of the Fears, now has an interesting caveat in that, depending on how Martin chooses to interact with him, his appearance and personality changes in tandem with what they are BOTH afraid of. Jon embodies a different Fear in every route, changing the more he and Martin butt heads.
Because of their godhood and the nature of the Construct, Martin and Jon can’t ever actually die, even if they kill each other; they’ll simply be shunted into a new chapter picking up from the previous one.
Blade VS No Blade
Much like STP, the "Player's" choices alter how Jon appears. If Martin takes the knife, Jon’s demeanor is more like his Season 2 self; paranoid, angry, distrustful and secretive. Without the knife, he acts more like his Season 1 self; incredulous and snobby.
That's it for now, but I'll be expanding on this in the future with the different Fear Vessels.
#slay the princess#slay the princess au#au#tma#the magnus archives#the Magnus Archives jon#jonathan sims#jon sims#martin blackwood#tma martin#Martin tma#the magnus archive fanart#crossover#crossover fanart#crossover au#stp spoilers#stp fanart#elias bouchard#tma annabelle#tma the web#jmart#tma jmart#jmart fanart#slay the archivist au
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