#can’t i just sit and think about my boy?
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Powerslide
Pairing: Yeonjun x Reader
Summary: Usually, your best friend’s player roommate is the most annoying person on earth, but after your date ditches you, he’s more than willing to step in as a replacement.
Tropes: enemies to whatever this is, frat boy!yeonjun, bff!taehyun, college AU, soft dom!reader, sub!yeonjun, kinda exhibitionism & dacryphilia
Word Count: 1.5k
Warnings: smut (mdni!!!!!!!!!!), mentions of alcohol
A/N: My friend really wanted a Yeonjun fic to happen and I suddenly felt like writing this. I am NOT a smut writer, so this might not be very good, but I tried <3
“Damn baby, I'm a train wreck, too
I lose my mind when it comes to you
I take time with the ones I choose
And I don't want to smile if it ain't from you”
—Boyfriend, Ariana Grande & Social House
The guy you’ve been seeing has pissed you off for the last time. As soon as you got a text asking to reschedule tonight’s date, while you were already standing outside of the restaurant he was supposed to meet you at, it was over.
You reply for him to go fuck himself and trudge back to campus to complain to your best friend, Taehyun.
Despite the two of you becoming almost inseparable after being paired up in organic chemistry together, it’s clear to both of you that it’s just a platonic thing. If you had to pick which one of his friends you were most into, it’d be his roommate, Yeonjun.
Except he pisses you off more than the guys you actually go out with. You can’t recall a time where you’ve ever talked to him sober or he hasn’t shamelessly flirted with you in front of whoever else was involved in the conversation.
You know he sees girls as pawns and not people, and so you don’t even bother thinking about the two of you together. Until he answers the door instead of Taehyun, fresh from the shower, water still dripping from his hair onto the towel barely clinging to his waist.
“Where’s Taehyun?” you ask. Your line of sight naturally falls on his bare chest, but you do your best to look up at his face. He’s smirking at you.
“He’s got a soccer game,” Yeonjun says, stepping aside to let you into the common room. “Should be over soon if you want to wait for him.”
You walk past him, plopping yourself onto their small couch. Yeonjun’s eyes don’t leave you, taking in your full date night outfit and the way it hugs you perfectly.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks. You can swear you can hear him about to burst out into laughter as he watches you go through the five stages of grief. “You had a date tonight, didn’t you?”
“How do you know that?” you sit up, finally locking eyes with him. By now, he’s got a full fledged grin on his face.
“Taehyun told me,” he shrugs, his towel becoming looser with every movement. “Listen, I was just being nice and asking. If you want to ice me out like you always do, go ahead.”
His honesty makes your face heat up in anger. Yes, you’ve never been very nice to him, but for good reason. He’s just another fuckboy in a frat, and you’ve dealt with enough of those in your first years of college to know better.
“I can be nice,” you scoff, turning to look out the window. It’s so dark that all you can see are the streetlamps in the distance.
“Then by all means, show me,” he says, his voice shifting from playful to something more serious. “I’d really like to see how nice you can be.”
There’s something about the way he’s talking to you that feels good. Wrong, but good.
“Fine,” you relent, looking back to see he’s gotten much closer to you than before. “But you need to go get dressed.”
“Am I distracting?” he smiles, tilting his head at you. You roll your eyes.
“More like nauseating,” you lie. He is distracting, just like usual. The only thing that really keeps you from giving him a chance is how annoying he is, but for some reason, you’re happy to entertain his advances tonight.
“I’ll be right back,” he says before walking into his bedroom. When he comes back, he’s got a red hoodie and ripped jeans thrown on, his hair still damp and messy. “Better?”
“Much better,” you approve. He nods before sitting down next to you on the couch, close enough so that his hand can graze your knee without it being obvious that he’s totally doing it on purpose. “Do you really want to hear about my love life?”
“Hmm, what else would we talk about?” he hums, his gaze locked on your glossy red lips. You can feel your face heat up, prompting you to scoot further away from him.
“We could talk about yours instead. Although, from what Taehyun tells me, I’m not sure you’re even capable of love.”
“Ouch. I could be, you know? For the right girl.”
“And who’s the right girl?”
“You.” You want to laugh at how ridiculous this all is, but Yeonjun’s breath is hot against your neck, and he leans in to place a single kiss against your sensitive skin. “I can treat you better than any of those other guys, Y/N. Let me show you.”
Fuck it, you think to yourself. He’s here and he’s hot and he’s desperate for you. You turn to face Yeonjun, crashing your lips onto his. He tastes sweet, no doubt from the bubblegum he’s always smacking whenever you’re around.
When he moans into your kiss and grips his hand in your hair, you feel a shockwave in your core. You climb into his lap, his hard-on nestling in between your legs. He groans at the pressure.
“God, you’re so hot,” he gasps in between kisses. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this.”
“Trust me, I know,” you laugh. “You make it so obvious.”
“I can’t help myself around you, Y/N.” He snakes a hand underneath your skirt, his fingers feeling how he’s already got you soaked through your panties. It takes everything in him not to finish right then and there. “Can I touch you?”
“Not now,” you say, your hand gripping his wrist and pinning it against the couch. Tonight, you’re in charge. “Maybe if you’re good for me, we can do this again.”
“Please,” he sighs as you grind your hips into him. “I’ll do whatever you want.”
You never pegged Yeonjun as someone who begs in the bedroom, but you aren’t complaining. You pull away from him, moving off of his lap to beside him, your hand palming his erection through his jeans.
“Fuck, that feels good,” he says, his eyes squeezed shut and fists clenched. You bring your free hand up to his chin, moving his head to face you.
“Open your eyes,” you tell him. “I want you to look at me.”
“I can’t,” he stammers. “I’ll cum if I do.”
“You aren’t allowed to cum until I say so,” you whisper, sucking at the sensitive spot on his neck. His breathing grows heavier by the second. “Yeonjun. Look at me or I will never let you touch me again.”
His eyes shoot open and he’s not sure how much more he can take. Sure, your body is to die for, but it’s always been your face that he likes the best. Seeing you with messy hair and smudged lipstick, all because of him, is an image he won’t be able to get out of his head for months.
“You sound so pretty for me, baby,” you tell him, moving your hand faster. He could really get used to you calling him that.
By now, he can’t control his moans and tears start to run down his face. All he can do is whine your name over and over in the hopes that you’ll finally give him permission to finish.
As if it weren’t agonizing enough, the front door’s handle starts to jiggle. “Hey, Jun?” Taehyun’s voice calls from outside. “Can you let me in, man? I forgot my key.”
Yeonjun’s eyes go wide at the sound of his roommate. You reach up to cover his mouth. “Be quiet, Junie. You don’t want Taehyun to hear you, do you?”
He shakes his head as you continue palming him through his pants, one of your fingers slipping into his mouth. He moans around it.
Taehyun starts banging on the door. “Dude, are you asleep? Wake up! I need to shower and get to bed.”
You laugh at the nervous look on Yeonjun’s face, cupping his cheek with your free hand and placing a soft kiss on his lips. “Cum for me, baby. It’s okay.”
Your words send him over the edge and he’s bucking your hips into your hand just seconds later. He does his best to keep quiet, although not even your kiss is enough to dampen the string of profanities that leave his lips.
When he’s done, he stares at you with sleepy eyes and the most satisfied grin on his face. Both of you look down at the wet spot on his crotch. He’s never going to be able to wear these pants again.
“Go change,” you say, patting his cheek and getting up from the couch. You smooth your hair down and fix your skirt into place. “I’ll get the door.”
Yeonjun knows that every time he looks at you now, he’ll be thinking of coming undone under your touch. He quickly scrambles out of the room before you can let Taehyun in.
“It’s about fucking time, man,” Taehyun scoffs, his eyes locked on his phone. When he looks up, he’s shocked to be greeted by you instead of his roommate. “Y/N? What the hell are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you,” you say, smiling at the confused look on his face. “I wanted to tell you about my date.”
“Oh, yeah, that was tonight. Sorry, I picked up a game at the rec center.”
“It’s okay,” you reassure him, following him into his bedroom and shutting the door behind you. “Yeonjun kept me company.”
—————-
Taglist: @orangesodafoam @ur-mother-realnotclickbait @iyeeeverydee @internet-folks @darlingz99 @foxyjun @niningtori @csbenthusiast @lonelybutterflytae @midnight-mochii @theresawtf @nowadays56 @jjklvr9
Literally only tagging the people from my taglist that I KNOW are over 18!!!
#tomorrow x together#txt#txt fic#txt fluff#txt imagines#txt x reader#txt angst#yeonjun x reader#yeonjun angst#yeonjun imagines#yeonjun#yeonjun txt#txt yeonjun#txt smut#yeonjun smut
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Darlin', can I be your favorite?
Pairing: Sukuna x fem!reader
Word Count: 2k
Synopsis: In a world full of death and tortue, wouldn't it be the easiest to seduce a man who is able to protect you at any cost? Ryomen Sukuna definetely is exactly that. Now, the seduction part...
Warnings: no really deep plot, just some teasing and a little bit of spice here and there, language, reader trying to seduce Sukuna with literally everything lol
Inspired by the song "favorite" by Isabel LaRosa
Your mission was clear since the first time you saw him in action, felt how strong he is: Get Sukuna to fucking adore you.
It might sound ridiculous to the untrained ear. Sukuna, the king of curses, the most frightful creature walking on this planet? To even consider you’d be able to warm his heart is worth a laughter. You know exactly how all the others would react when they hear your wild plan to seduce him, to get him to catch feelings for only you.
But what better defense than having the king of curses by your side? This fucking world is nothing but a battlefield and as a jujutsu sorcerer, you’re in the middle of it. Day in day out you risk your life in order to safe others. And even though it might sound tempting to simply haunt after Gojo Satoru, it’s not the same.
No, you want Ryomen Sukuna and no one else.
Your heels click against the floor as you make your way through Shibuya’s train station, Sukuna’s fingers lying in your purse comfortably. What better way to catch a glimpse into his heart than giving him back those? Well, to be exact you don’t have a set plan apart from getting him to like you. After all, love can’t be forced, right?
Well, that skin tight dress paired with those high heels you chose for today might do that, though.
“Now, where are you Yuji?”, you mumble to yourself, eyes darting around the worn-down area.
There is no doubt in the fact that a fight occurred here not long ago. The air still smells like blood and sweat, the wall is still hot from an enormous impact. But who? Was it Yuji? You follow a trail of blood with your hips swinging from side to side. You just need to find him, need to seduce the king of curses. This is your best chance to not croak in this shitty job.
Your heels stop in their tracks.
A tuft of pink hair rests against the entrance of the rest room, so minor that you almost missed it.
Almost.
You walk towards the beat-up boy while casually inspecting him. He’s definitely alive, but barely. Yuji’s whole face is covered in multiple cuts and bruises. Who on earth did he fight against? And where is that other person? No, it’s not your responsibility to think about that right now. With a swift motion you open your purse and reveal those oh so deadly fingers.
“Now be a good boy and swallow”, you purr.
Your hand grabs his neck and yanks his head upwards while you carefully feed Yuji Sukuna’s fingers. Please, let this work. You are tired to the brim of running away, of fighting curse after curse each and every day. How about a peaceful life with Sukuna by your side? Fuck Jujutsu High, fuck Satoru Gojo. You don’t want to die before you were even able to live properly.
“Get your hands off me, human.”
For a moment, your heart skips a beat. Just one look into his red gleaming eyes and suddenly so matured face is enough for you to realize that this isn’t Yuji anymore. No, the person you are sitting on with your hand wrapped around his neck is none other than Ryomen Sukuna.
Finally.
“Oh, you’re awake. That went smoother than I thought”, you reply with a cheeky grin, not moving an inch away from him like he told you to.
“Who the hell are you, brat?”
He has definitely seen you before, you are a jujutsu sorcerer without any doubt. But why are so damn close, why does your hand wrap so delicately around his neck? Your dark eyes rest on his face unpromising, lashes hanging into your orbs seductively. What’s that supposed to be?
“My name’s whatever you make it. But how about wife?”
Sukuna isn’t able to move, let alone speak. Did you really introduce yourself to the king of curses like that? He shouldn’t waste any time, wring your neck the way you deserve it, dissolve you into tiny pieces. Who the hell do you think you are to speak to him like that? You, a puny woman? Not even the fact that you reunited him with a few of his missing fingers is enough to spare your life.
But why…Why does he still sit there like he did before, allowing your hand to rest against his neck? Why is he unable to give you a sharp answer like he always does?
“I am the king of curses”, is the only thing he’s able to press out.
“And I’ll be your girl. Deal?”
He lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding, eyes scanning your features up and down. You do have a pretty decent face for a human, your delicate eyes keeping him trapped. That confidence dripping from each and every pore of yours, the way your body is so near that he’s able to hear your blood circulate…
“What the hell are you talking about, stupid girl? If I wanted to, I could kill you without even flinching. Now get off me and run for your life.”
When Sukuna finally regained his threatening voice again, he expected your heart to shiver, your body to stumble backwards until you run away. But instead, you move even closer and dare to sit on top of him, gleaming eyes now staring him into the ground while your naked thighs rub against his pants.
“But you didn’t. Think I must be your favorite.”
The fact that he didn’t kill you right on the spot when you disobeyed his order is enough proof that your plan is actually working. Yes, you managed to confuse the king of curses, to arouse his interest. Now the only thing that’s left is seducing him.
“You are annoying as hell. Now get off me, I have some work to do”, he barks back at you.
His hand grabs your wrist roughly and removes your grip around his neck. But instead of simply throwing you off him, he holds your arm in place while keeping only inches of distance.
Oh, his lips are so close that you are literally able to taste them. Just one movement, one innocent flinching of your hips above his and the gap between you both is closed.
“Are you trying to seduce me, dumb girl?”, he breathes out.
He does it so well, keeping himself cool and composed while his mind races back and forth with your intoxicating smell penetrating his nose. In his long life, there was never a woman who actually tried to seduce him. After all, he’s the king of curses, so strong because of the fact that he never felt love or affection for anyone in all those years. He’s heartless, cold, a menace. Why would a woman ever get the idea of showing him affection? He came here to kill, to destroy this fucking city and make that brat suffer.
But now there’s you.
And apparently you couldn’t care less about the fact that he’s the king of curses.
“Actually, I am”, you purr, your free hand beginning to draw small circles onto his chest.
“Why would you do something so fucking stupid?”
“I mean, you’re the strongest, right?”
He has to blink a few times, the way you look at him as if he’s the dumb one catching him completely off guard.
“I’m the king of curses”, he reminds you all over again.
“And with being your favorite, you take me places-“
“What the fuck are you talking about?”, he interrupts you roughly.
You roll your eyes in sheer annoyance, nails now digging into his chest.
“Make me your wife so I don’t die”, you finally blurt out.
Is this the reason behind your questionable action? He could have killed you right on the spot and just one look into your gleaming orbs tells him that you know that all too well. And still, you risked your life for him to protect yours. Were you really so sure you’d be able to seduce the king of curses with a lousy dress and some high heels?
“Why would I do that?”
Enough playing. He should behead you right on the spot before torturing you for the time you wasted. You aren’t even worthy to breathe the same air as him, let alone being this close to his body.
But…Why isn’t he able to simply throw you off, then? Why is he even questioning what you’re up to, replaying your words over and over in his mind?
“Because I’ll let you taste-“
Your mouth is so close to his ear that your hot breath caresses his skin while the filthiest thoughts leave you with ease. His eyes grow wider and wider with each passing second, disgusted but at the same time…
“Enough”, he hisses through gritted teeth while grabbing your shoulders roughly.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Aren’t you at least a little invested? I have a lot to offer”, you reply, ignoring his last question elegantly.
The war inside his head makes him forget that he’s actually out on a mission for a moment. You…you are so different from all those other jujutsu sorcerers, risked your puny life so that he eventually watches over you. How ridiculously brave, how fucking stupid. But still, when your gleaming eyes rest on his face like that, that oh so cheeky grin plastered on your face you make him wonder. A wife, his favorite?
Before he’s able to think straight again, a wave of freezing mist darts towards you at neck-breaking speed. His heart skips a beat, eyes darting towards Uraume who fixates you with hate dripping from every poor of her warped face.
You won’t be fast enough. No jujutsu sorcerer except for Gojo Satoru himself is able to escape Uraume’s powers when surprised. If he doesn’t react, you’ll die. But isn’t that what he wants, that you finally vanish into thin air and leave him alone? You, the girl who just claimed him as her husband only because she doesn’t want to die.
“No.”
His body moves on its own. All of the sudden he finds himself standing in front of you, his hand deflecting Uraume’s Frost Calm with ease.
“Don’t you dare to hurt her, Uraume.”
You can’t believe it, breath getting stuck in your throat. He really did save you. Even though all you did was purring at him, trying to convince him with sugary words, Ryomen Sukuna stood up for you and defended you against one of his. Out of instinct, you push your wobbly legs off the ground, excitement filling you to the brim. With that oh so cheeky smile, you wrap your arm around his and eye the person in front of you up and down innocently.
“But she…she is a human being, Master. She’s a weakling, one of your enemies”, Uraume breathes out.
“Who allowed you to speak to your Master like that? Get out of my sight and do what you were taught to.”
You watch in awe as the person standing in front of you crumbles, their hateful gaze almost piercing through you like a knife until their gone as fast as they came.
“So, I really am your favorite, huh?”, you hum.
“Shut up brat, I’m the only one who can kill you. Now get going, I have a lot of work to do.”
Tags:
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@magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut
@mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0
@ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife
@coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain
@risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny
@ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr
@kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world
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@ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299
@okay-it-is-ivy
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk fanfic#jjk shibuya arc#shibuya incident#shibuya#jujutsu kaisen shibuya arc#jjk shibuya incident#sukuna jjk#sukuna#ryoumen sukuna#jjk sukuna#jujutsu sukuna#ryomen sukuna x you#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen x reader#sukuna ryomen#uraume#ryomen sukuna#daddy sukuna#isabel larosa#song inspired
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my sweet sweet melo.. do talk about nerdy wonbin 🙏
i’ve answered this a few times but it keeps getting deleted …. anyhow i <3 nerd bin !! this is nerd bin…
makes me think about nerd wonbin who offers to help tutor you !! binnie who always shows up to class in baggy clothes, thick glasses and his beanie but shows up to your dorm in a tight fitted black shirt and thinner glasses, even with his hair cut abit. you just find yourself so distracted, so much so that you can’t focus on what he’s telling you. especially when he’s sat across from you like that, arms flexing as he leans against the table to look at you.
would move to sit next to you, confidence growing inside of him when he sees how nervous you get. catches your eyes drift to his stomach when he stretches his arms above his head because his shirt ends up riding up his abs and sitting above his belly button. he’d find your distraction cute, hand leaning on your thigh as he asks you if you’re okay.
would think you’re the cutest when you end up laying under him, whimpering as he touches you. he’d love how distracted you get as your eyes trail down his body once his shirt is off. he’d also really love how much you underestimate him, wanting nothing more than to show you he’s not just the sweet, shy boy you see in class but in fact he’s so much more.
shows you that by fucking you brainless, has your nails digging into his back and his name falling from your lips with each harsh, deep thrust. his demeanour would be such a contrast to the nerdy wonbin you’re used to see in class, he’d shock you so much but it’d be incredible. i also whole heartedly believe this wonbin would be absolutely insane at oral ..
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Molly can we get a snippet of the baby making au and the first sonogram? Or the first pregnancy test? How does Kate tell Anthony that she's pregnant?
Oh imagine how excited they would both be to see their baby for the first time.
“Do you need anything?”
Anthony’s knee was bouncing up and down as he sat beside her in the obstetrician’s waiting room.
“What would I need?” Kate chuckled, filling out the form on the clipboard in front of her.
He’d dressed up. She’d realised that when he’d stepped inside her office, his oxfords shined under his chino’s and sweater and a sports coat on over the top and she’d laughed. “Are you… trying to impress my gynaecologist?”
He’d adjusted the sleeve of his jacket, “I’m trying to look like a responsible future parent.”
“And we feel a tweed sports coat does this?”
“Yes, I also think I’m going to grow my beard in properly. It feels very Dad.”
This was one of the reasons he’d been the only person who’d crossed her mind when she’d decided to pursue this. Apart from the fact that he knew her better than almost anyone, Anthony was so… unexpectedly sweet. He’d be a good father. Gentle, and kind, and supportive. He was a nurturer. She’d loved that about him when they’d been together. She loved it about him now. Even now he was looking after her. Trying to look after the child they’d made together.
“I don’t know, I could get you a water. I have a muesli bar in my jacket in case you’re hungry.”
“I’m fine, Ant. I was only a little sick this morning.” Kate sighed, “Do you have any medical conditions in your immediate family I don’t know about.”
“You said you would call me if you were sick.”
“I was a little sick, that might happen again lot the next nine months.”
Anthony clicked his tongue, “Well, I could have brought you something to help.”
“Ant, medical conditions.” She corrected the spiral she could see he was going down. “I did write your lactose intolerance down.”
“Not sure that’s relevant.” Anthony sighed, “But no, nothing really. Greg’s deafness isn’t hereditary.”
Kate nodded, “All done then.”
“I’ll take it back for you.” Anthony leapt to his feet, taking the clipboard from her and striding back towards the desk. He froze, two steps away from her, his shoulders rising and falling heavily.
“What, did you find out I’ve been lying about my age for years?” She teased, her stomach fluttering nervously.
He shook his head, clearing his throat, “No I um… I actually just saw my name listed as the baby’s father and um…” He trailed off, “That feels nice.”
Tears pricked at her eyes and she swiped them away as he sat back beside her, taking her hand. “Stop, you can’t say shit like that Ant Bee.” She’d been using that name for him for nearly 15 years. “I’m too hormonal now.”
“Sorry, I’ll wait like a good boy.”
“Kate!” The Dr called out, gesturing them inside, the paperwork tucked under her arm. “Come on through.”
“Can I…?” Anthony gestured to himself. “Are Dads welcome for this part?”
“That’s up to Kate.”
“Come on,” She tugged on his hand, following the doctor through.
“Kate, congratulations!” The Dr said, sitting behind their desk and gesturing for her to sit on the exam bed. “And his must be your partner.”
Anthony looked awkwardly at the ceiling, and Kate sighed, “This is Anthony. He’s very excited.”
“Okay, well, first things first,”
It was nice, to have Anthony’s hand squeezing hers tightly as she answered the doctors question, Anthony chiming in occasionally to confirm things he’d found in his research, making notes in the notebook he’d brought with him.
“Okay should we look at baby? That’ll help us confirm a due date.”
“But that’s only a guide, I read.” Anthony said quickly and Kate fought to roll her eyes, “And we’ve been trying so we can’t really pin point it.”
“That’s right. It’s just an approximation.”
“It’s not a test, Ant.” Kate chuckled, pulling up her shirt.
“I’m just trying to show that I’m prepared.”
Kate could feel her heart hammering in her chest as the doctor moved the ultrasound over her abdomen, the gel cold against her skin.
“And there’s baby.”
Kate’s heart stopped. It was tiny, flickering over the screen and the heartbeat filled the room. Exactly what she’d wanted. This. To be a mother, even if she had to do it alone.
Anthony’s hand squeezed hers and his voice cracked, tears welling in his eyes, “You’re a mum, Katie. They’re beautiful.”
Tears welled in her own eyes and her chest felt tight, “And you’re a dad.”
Anthony let out a watery chuckle, “God, I need to get started on that beard.”
“The heartbeat’s really fast.”
“The heart beat’s very strong. Baby looks very healthy.” The Dr hummed, “Should we get some photos?”
Kate nodded, swiping at her tears, “Sorry, I’m just so emotional at the moment.”
“Happens all the time. We’re out of tissues in here, sorry. There’s some in the lounge.”
“I’ll get some tissues.” Anthony breathed, swiping his own tears before he kissed the top of her head. “I’ll be back. God, you’re incredible.”
The door shut quickly and Kate took a deep breath, leaning back against the back of the bed.
“He’ll be a very sweet Dad.” The Dr said conversationally. “How long have the two of you been together?”
They’d agreed there was no need to let the doctor in on their arrangement, it didn’t matter. And Kate shouldn’t have said it, it wasn’t right to claim him. But she couldn’t help herself.
“Um… We met when we were sixteen.”
“That’s so sweet!”
“Yeah, he’s um… he’s a sweetie.”
And he was also the other thing she’d always wanted.
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Hey! Could I ask for a breaking-4th-wall kind of drabble with Solomon? In my heart I refuse to believe the boys aren’t real; they’re just in another world 💔 idk if thats denial or what but yeah lmao
something comfort or fluff would be nice ^^ even though just seeing Sol always makes me smile it’s a double edged sword and I then think back to how he ‘isn’t real’
(It’s kinda sad I can’t marry that man though…? It was love at first sight in OG game and people think Solomon’s down bad, I’m hella clingy when it comes to close relationships though ☠️ )
(Also random but as kind of a vent the kind of person best for Solomon would be someone who can heal his inner child, yeah? Problem is my inner child is also broken from emotional abuse lol, my issues would not help. I’m not good for him fr)
Hi there, anon!
Let me begin by saying that you are definitely good for Solomon. In fact, I would argue that you would understand him better because of your own issues. You know how it feels, you can relate to him in a way that someone else wouldn't be able to. And I think there's something extremely healing about having someone else to figure it out with. Why can't you and Solomon heal your inner children together?
As for the request, I hope this is what you're looking for! I definitely took the fourth wall breaking idea and ran with that!
You're sitting in your house on your phone, looking at Solomon on the home screen of your Obey Me account. You tap on his sprite and he smiles at you.
"Hm? What is it?" the dialogue says.
"I want you to be real," you say, knowing he can't hear you. "I want to touch you for real."
You sigh, turning off your phone and going about your evening. An hour or so passes and you're now focused on something else entirely when the doorbell rings.
It's odd. You weren't expecting company.
You answer the door and nearly faint from shock.
Solomon laughs gently at the look on your face. "Hi, MC. You wanted to see me?"
You stare at him with your mouth open. "What- I don't- How are you…? How are you here?"
"I'm a sorcerer, MC," he says. "With the right spell, I can make anything happen."
You're a little confused, but is it really worth asking any more questions? He's here and he looks solid. He looks real.
Solomon seems to understand your uncertainty. He reaches out a hand toward you. "I promise it's really me," he says. "Won't you let me show you?"
You couldn't have refused even if you wanted to. You didn't take the time to think about it, just immediately put your hand in his.
Solomon tugs on your hand and pulls you close, wrapping an arm around your waist. The world spins and you're being teleported to a new location.
You gasp when you find yourself looking out at a familiar view. The Devildom stretches out below you, RAD's great structure in the distance, the sparkling city lights next to an elaborately detailed fence. You're standing on a cobblestone street with Solomon's arms around you. The sky is dark, but it always is, here in the Devildom.
"Did you think it wasn't real?" Solomon asks. "Did you think I haven't already fallen for you?"
You clutch at him because this is all so unexpected. "Yes," you admit. How could you have possibly thought otherwise?
Solomon laughs, but it's soft, like he can't help it because you're so cute. "I'm sorry," he says. "I should have come for you sooner. Do you want to stay? For a little while?"
You throw your arms around his neck. "Yes!" you cry. And there are tears on your face because you're somehow here, with him.
Solomon kisses away your tears. You melt in his arms as he does. He gives you a questioning look, as if he's not sure how far he can go.
You let him know by kissing him. Solomon's embrace tightens around you. You can feel his heart beating against yours - rapid, like he's also overwhelmed by this impossible moment.
masterlist | Thank you for reading!
#obey me#obey me nightbringer#obey me solomon#obey me solomon x mc#om solomon#om solomon x mc#obey me solomon x reader#om solomon x reader#obey me imagines#obey me fanfic#obey me fluff#obey me x reader#x reader#request#misc writes
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The Mother-in-law
In celebration of Mother’s Day in my country, here are some headcanons of meeting characters' moms (and a grandma).
Gn reader x Jade, Floyd, Kalim, Sebek
Afab reader x Ruggie
Tw: None
1.8k words
Having a boyfriend comes with extra relationships, and you’re about to meet one of the people most important to him.
Mama Leech
Mama Leech is a classy lady. Tall and lanky like her sons, she exudes an air of elegance but also threatening, her sharp teeth gleaming like pearls.
She sometimes comes to land on business matters, and knowing that you were dating one of her sons, she just had to meet you.
Sitting across from her at the Mostro Lounge is a nerve wracking experience. You feel like you have forgotten how to even use a fork.
She daintily stabs hers on the steak, her enigmatic yellow eyes never leaving yours.
Her voice is velvety smooth, sharing pleasantries with you, all talk but with as much substance as water has flavor.
Suddenly, she goes quiet, her teeth seemingly becoming more jagged.
“I hope you do have good intentions with my son. He’s a nice boy who deserves the best, don’t you think so?”
“I don’t know what the “best” could be, but I do think he deserves to be happy in the way he wants to be.”
She continues with amicable and innocent topics thereafter.
If you’re dating Jade, she’ll say:
“My dear Jade is such a hard worker. You must help him relax from time to time, or he’ll overwork himself.”
If you’re dating Floyd, she’ll say:
“My dear Floyd changes like the currents. When you’re around him you’ll never know how he’ll react! It’s so delightful.”
Regardless of who has captured your heart, she’ll offer you a little trade secret.
“There’s something nobody knows, not even his twin, that when he was little, he…”
Before she can continue, the tweels appear to retrieve the plates and silverware.
If you’re dating Jade:
“I hope the meal was to your liking.” says Jade.
“Jadeeee! Mamma was about to share something fun! ___ wants to know too, right?”
“But it is rather impolite to share others secrets, is it not, mother?”
If you’re dating Floyd:
“Mama! Ya can’t talk about me behind my back! I'm the one who’s gonna share secrets with ___!”
“Now, now Floyd. We shouldn’t interrupt our clients' meal.”
Mama Leech smiles innocently at her children.
“It seems time has passed by way too quickly. I must take my leave.”
She stood up so graciously you would have never believed she had fins instead of legs most of the time.
“It was a pleasure meeting you, my dear. And you, my darling boys, don’t forget to answer my messages more often!”
With that said, she gave you and her sons a tight hug, before disappearing out the door.
Lady Al-Asim
Lady Al-Asim is a beautiful woman. She’s not called the rose of the desert for no reason. But unlike what that title might suggest, she is not fragile.
Once she learned that Kalim had gotten a partner, she wanted to meet them as soon as possible.
You’d be invited to spend some time with her in her wing of the Al-Asim estate, along with Kalim, so he could introduce you to her.
The meeting place is a room filled with pillows and carpets. As you sit on a plush purple pillow with golden embroidery, you can’t help but think that it must be worth more than everything in Ramshackle combined.
Kalim grabs your hand and smiles radiantly at you, calming your nerves.
Lady Al-Asim enters, a goddess among humans, ladened with jewelry and precious silks.
But the most beautiful part of it all is her warm gaze at seeing her son, and the way she walks slightly faster than what you assume is protocol to greet him.
After inspecting her son and filling him with kisses, she sits in the middle of a dune of pillows in front of you.
“Hello, my dear. How do you do?”
“You must be feeling awfully warm. I’ll ask for some drinks to be fetched. Are 12 varieties of tea and 23 of soft drinks alright with you?”
Her words are polite and warm, and the conversation is pleasant.
Kalim sings your praises at every opportunity, and so does his mother, remembering with staggering accuracy the things he has told her (and they were many).
It feels like you’re in a competition to see who can praise you the most.
It’s embarrassing, but they’re both so genuine in their compliments and admiration that you can’t help but feel your heart well up with happiness.
“Oh goodness, look at the time. It’s getting rather late and you both need to go to bed early.”
Kalim deflates a little, but perks right back up.
“That’s fine, mother. After we graduate we’ll have way more time to chat like this, as a family!”
You almost spat the tea you were drinking, but Lady Al-Asim's smile just got bigger.
She escorted you both personally out of the room and into the teleportation mirror, giving Kalim a big hug and ordering servants to bring him piles upon piles of things.
Kalim went ahead, leaving you alone with his mom for a bit.
“Take care of my dear Sunshine. He loves you very much and I reckon you love him too. And above all else, be happy.”
Out of her pocket she retrieved a small golden bracelet.
“Ground my son. But also let him sweep you up in his magic carpet once in awhile.”
You arrived at NRC feeling warmer than when you were in Silk City.
Grandma Bucchi
Grandma Bucchi is a kind old woman. Her face is marred with age, but she moves with the speed of someone three times younger than her.
Ruggie wanted to introduce her to you, seeing as she is the most important person in his life.
Initially he was a bit reluctant to bring someone like you to the slums where he grew up, but since you were so insistent on meeting her, he eventually relented.
Once inside the house, a humble abode filled with knick knacks of various origins, a tasty smell fills your lungs.
Grandma Bucchi leaves the kitchen with her gray hair in a bun, cleaning her hands in her apron.
“Ruggie boy, is that you?”
“Yeah, Grandma. It’s me.”
The small woman approaches her grandson and squeezes his cheek.
“I could barely recognize you. You’re almost skin and bones. Don’t they feed you at that fancy school?”
As she stops pinching his cheeks she turns to you.
“So you’re the famous ___? You’re rather pretty aren’t you?”
Before you can thank her, the old woman is already walking back to the kitchen.
“I’m finishing my stew. Sit down and sip some dawa.”
“Grandma, let me help ya. You know your bones aren’t what they used to be.”
“Ah, boy! Don’t get between me and my kitchen. And don’t leave your datemate hanging.”
You sat down on the wooden chair and sipped the warm drink on the table. It had a sweet, and despite being warm, fresh after taste.
You both sat in silence, the sound of the sizzling water filling the background.
Soon after Grandma Bucchi came out of the kitchen holding a big pot, a heavenly smell permeating from it.
“Dig in, children.”
You gladly started eating, and soon the lul of chewing and conversation filled the room.
“I hope my grandson has been treating you well. He can be a handful sometimes, I tell you. But he’s a great cook.”
The day soon turned to night, and the time to leave was approaching.
“Before you leave, children, take the rest with you. I want you both to be eating well!”
“Granny, ya should keep it for you and the kids.”
“Oh, Ruggie, we have enough for all of us. Just don’t give me any more kids to take care of! At least for now.”
You both blush profusely, heat creeping up to your ears.
“We ain’t gonna do that! Bye, Grandma!”
You both hastily left, but you could swear you could hear the old woman chuckle under her breath “ah young love”.
Mrs Zigvolt
Mrs Zigvolt is a tall imposing woman, boisterous, full of pride for her family and also a truly powerful fae.
From the moment your relationship became official, Sebek wanted you to meet his mother.
To him, she’s perfect, and he wishes for her to approve of his relationship.
When he got news that she’d visit the NRC campus he was overjoyed, and immediately designed a plan to teach you as much about fae culture as possible.
His passion is admirable, but it’s obvious he’s incredibly nervous, practicing in front of his mirror what he’ll say to his mother.
On the day of the visit, he waits for her in the mirror hall, standing as straight as if he was practicing a drill.
You put your hand on his shoulder, and see him relax just a tiny bit.
When his mother arrived, tall and full-figured, she reminded you of a well trained soldier, but the moment she saw her son her face lit up, and she quickly strode to him, hugging him with all his might.
“I missed you so much, Sebby! Look at you! You’ve grown so much!”
Her deep and mature voice was surprisingly complementary to her words.
Sebek kept his straight posture, his eyes gleaming like stars.
“Yes mother! I have grown exactly 2,7 cm since you last saw me.”
Mrs Zigvolt smiled lovingly at her son.
“And who might this be?” She asked, turning to you.
“Mother, this is the person I am romantically entangled with. They do not distract me from my studies nor my duty to protect Lord Malleus.”
“And do they make you happy?”
Sebek's cheeks turned bright pink, his posture becoming stiffer.
“Yes, mother. They make me very happy.
His mother clapped her hands and gave you a bright smile.
“That’s what I wanted to hear. Has my son been treating you well, young one? I sure hope so! He can be a bit of a handful.”
She leaned down to whisper in your ear.
“We thought he’d never let himself find someone, especially so soon. But he did, and from what he has told us, he’s quite head over heels for you.”
“Mother, we must hurry if we want to complete the school tour on time!” called Sebek from the entrance, already on his way out, the tip of his ears pink.
“Yes, yes, Sebby. We’re coming!”
He left the mirror hall, and you started walking to catch up to him.
“One last thing.”
She lightly tapped your forehead with her clawed finger.
“Use your head, but don’t forget your heart, okay?”
You nodded your head, and she smiled, booping your nose.
“Now let us go to our Sebby, or the poor boy might die of stress waiting for us.”
You left the mirror hall with a good feeling about this first meeting.
#twst#twisted wonderland#x reader#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#Jade Leech#Floyd Leech#Kalim Al-Asim#Sebek Zigvolt#Ruggie Bucchi#Kyusbow
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Too Late To Turn Back Now {Angus Tully x Reader}
Summary: A dislocated shoulder, an insult to end all men, a few lies, going out to eat, and an unwanted revelation about Angus Tully. What a perfect way to celebrate Christmas Eve-Eve.
Part 4 of ?? (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3)
Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of arm injury, mentions of underage drinking, minor harassment, and discussion of cancer.
This was one of the more lighthearted and fun as hell chapters to write, so I hope you all enjoy it!
Word Count: 5.0k
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Apparently, Angus Tully had gone on another adventure without you. One probably shouldn’t call it an adventure if he went to the chapel, and merely stared at the photo of your dead friend for hours on end.
“Do you think he was praying?” You asked Mary after she told you that while you were helping her make lunch.
“I think he’s just as religious as you.”
You scoffed. “He’d never become a priest.”
“You’d make a lousy nun.”
“I’d be a fun one.”
Once the four of you sat down to eat, your father tried to give you cookies you knew for a fact were given to you by Miss Crane. You also knew they were a week old at this point. Still, to spare your father’s feelings, you broke off a piece. You then put it in your mouth, nodding with a smile before bringing your napkin to your lips as if to clean them, when really you just spat the cookie into it.
Immediately, Angus asked to go to the bathroom, and you knew he wasn’t doing that, but you couldn’t blame him.
“I’m trying.” Your father shrugged, and all you and Mary could do was laugh.
You helped her was the dishes after that, and went back out to the dining hall, still seeing your dad sitting at the same table, alone.
“Everything alright?” You asked.
“Yes, just waiting on Mr. Tully.”
“You honestly can’t force him to learn today.” You scoffed, leaning against one of the chairs. “It’s Christmas Eve-Eve.”
“You always had lessons on Christmas Eve-Eve, and you didn’t complain.”
“I did.” You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Several times.”
He sighed. “I’ll let him out early by an hour; if you attend as well.”
“Never mind, let him rot.”
“I thought so.” He got up from his chair. “Where on God’s green earth is that boy?”
You watched him leave through the doors Angus took ten minutes ago, and as you were about to go into the kitchen to (lovingly) bother Mary some more, you heard shouting. Now of course, you were (and still are) a nosey bitch, so you had no choice but to also go through the doors leading out into the hallway. You heard Angus first.
“There’s nobody here, okay? Just us two losers, a grieving mom, and your-.”
His face and words fell once he saw you enter, and your father turned to see you standing in the doorframe, looking as if you wandered into something you shouldn’t have. Then, you threw on the attitude.
“What am I now?”
He looked away. “Nothing.”
“Oh, wow!” You began with fake enthusiasm.
“I didn’t mean-.”
“-No, no of course you didn’t.”
Your father stepped in. “That’s enough from the both of you. Mr. Tully, I can forgive you for using the phone without permission if-.”
“-If what?” He interrupted. “No, let’s cut the shit: You stay out of my way, and I stay out of yours.”
Of course, your father had detention slips in his back pocket, and of course he threw one up. “That’s a detention.”
Angus pushed past him, groaning and walking fast down the hall. You pursed your lips. “You really showed him.”
“Stuff it, Lady Macbeth.” He scolded, then called Angus. “You just earned yourself a detention, sir. Now, get back here!”
Angus looked back. “Being here with you is already one big fucking detention!”
“Son of a bitch, that’s another detention!”
In response, Angus knocked over a trash can, which caused your father to run like you’d never seen him run before. You should be ashamed that your first instinct was to laugh, but you weren’t and you still aren’t.
You should also have felt like a fool for deciding to run after them as if it were a game. Again, you didn’t feel like one then, and if you were to do it again as an old woman, you would in a heartbeat.
You saw as Angus tore off posters from the wall and would stop at corners just to taunt your father. Then, after running around more than half the school (you had no idea how much honestly, but it was enough for you), you stopped outside of the gym with the both of them. Even with Angus’s back turned, you knew he was contemplating the unthinkable.
“Don’t you even think about it, Mr. Tully.” Your father warned, panting from running. “You are a hair’s breadth from suspension. I’ll wash my hands of you, you hear me? Wash my hands.” Angus ignored him, stepping into the gym.
You followed your father as he kept going. “Stop right there, you know the gym is strictly off limits. This is your Rubicon. Do not cross the Rubicon.”
Angus took one look at the gym equipment, then back to the two of you. “Alea jacta est.”
He winked at you before springing towards the trampoline, bouncing off of it and over the balance beam. When his body landed with a hard ‘thud!’, you and your father were stricken with tense silence.
Which was then broken when an inhuman scream ripped from Angus’ throat.
Still, as your father looked on in horror, you said (being completely unbothered). “He’s faking it.”
When his screams didn’t subside, and you only heard them grow louder and he threw in more explicate language, your smile fell. It was when he got to his knees did you see how mangled his right arm looked, and you felt like you were going to throw up.
Angus Tully was one step ahead of you in that department, and that’s all we should say about that (not that he nearly puked on you; if anyone ever says that, they’re lying and should be shot on sight).
So, that was how, on the afternoon of Christmas Eve-Eve, you came to be standing outside of your father’s shitty 1964 Nova. You and Angus, who was crying while wearing half of his jacket, were shivering violently, waiting for your father to scrape off the car.
“Hurry up!” Both you and him would beg.
“I am hurrying!” Would be your father’s only response, and you saw his face grow redder every time either of you would yell.
Luckily, he managed to (somehow) scrape it all off and you three piled into the car. Even though you were going to anyway, you father insisted you sit in the front (more than likely because he knew you and Angus would probably try to kill each other in a high tense situation, and who would’ve figured he was right).
“I was on thin ice already.” Your father panicked at you as he stepped on the gas to the hospital. “If Woodrup finds out, the facts won’t matter, he’ll make it my fault.”
“It is your fault!” Angus cried from the back of the car, trying to hold his mangled arm up. “You were supposed to be looking after me!”
“I told you to stop!”
“You said you washed your hands of me!”
“No, I meant it metaphorically!”
“Of course you meant it metaphorically. What were you gonna do, actually go and wash your hands?!”
Your father turned back to the road. “Unbelievable. Unbelievable, I said I will wash my hands, never once did I say it in the present tense!”
“I don’t know, Pontius Pilate.” You shrugged. “This Jesus guy makes a good point.”
When he hissed your real name, you nearly shrank into your seat. “I don’t need any more of this from you. You were the one to tell me he was faking it anyway!”
“You said that?!” Angus yelled. “Jesus, I knew you hated all men.”
“Not true.” You turned around to look at him. “I would’ve said the exact same thing about a woman, especially if I heard her screaming from your room!”
Out of all the times you made a man cry and left him speechless, this one was and forever will be your favorite (obviously he was crying from his arm, but you liked to think your comment also did that). Your father scolded you for your foul mouth, but it was 100% worth it.
There you three sat in the emergency room, waiting for over an hour for a nurse to let you in, when your father started monologuing to himself.
“This is the end. They’ll inform the school, who will inform your parents, and then it’s curtains. You’re gonna get me fired; you.” He looked at Angus, then you. “I hope you like sleeping in the snow, Josephine.”
“I love it more than life itself.” You rolled your eyes.
Angus grumbled. “I’m the one about to lose an arm and all you can think about is yourself.”
“Hey, he was worried about me.” You pointed out.
He turned and glared at you, and you actually felt bad for the first time that day.
A nurse soon approached you, handing your father a clipboard and pen. “If you could just fill this out, please. Admissions and insurance.”
Your father, hesitantly, begins to fill it out. It sounded like a joke at first, having to sleep somewhere else, but honestly what were you going to do? You and your father lived in the faculty housing ever since-.
“-Excuse me?” Angus asked the nurse as she was walking away. “Is there any way we could skip this whole insurance thing?”
“It’s just standard procedure.”
“I understand. But look, we were over at Squantz pond playing hockey, and I slipped on the ice.”
Your father whispered. “Angus, what are you doing?”
But he kept going, glancing at you for a moment. “Our mom told him not to take us, but I made him. Our folks are divorced, and we don’t get to see each other very often. She’ll be mad as a hornet if she finds out.”
The nurse still didn’t let up. “Okay, that’s your business. But we just have certain protocols.”
“Yeah, protocols.” Your father tried to warn.
Angus didn’t listen to either. “Please, we ever get to see my dad. It was my fault, all mine. I don’t want to get him in trouble.” He looked at you. “We can’t have her dragging him to court again.”
You shook your head, swallowing a pretend lump in your throat. “No. Last time was…oh god.”
He looked back at the nurse. “Can we skip the whole insurance thing? We can pay cash. Right, Dad?”
What a sucker; it took you and Angus to do ‘Kicked Puppy” eyes for a minute, and she was brining the three of you in to the see the doctor in three.
When they were removing his shirt, they told him first look away from the arm, but they didn’t inform you.
“Is it that bad?” He asked upon hearing your audible disgust.
“Not the worst thing I’ve seen in a hospital.”
Your father slugged you, but not hard enough for it to hurt. Still, the whole thing was a blur as they popped Angus’ arm back into its socket. It was dislocated, not broken, and a part of you selfishly wish that it had been just to spare you from the disgusting noises. That and also Angus’s screaming, as if you hadn’t been objectified to that enough.
The three of you were leaving after Angus' arm was tied in a sling, when your father spoke up.
“Barton men don’t do that.”
“Do what?” Angus asked, readjusting his sling.
“Well, I had momentum.”
“Mhm,” he looked at you. “what’s your excuse?”
You shrugged. “I don’t go to Barton, and I’m not a man. Thank God, by the way, considering I hate all of them.”
Even though you said that sarcastically, neither of the men said you were wrong.
When you three made it to the pharmacy, and your father handed over the prescription, the pharmacist went to search for it. Angus lowered his voice, saying to your dad.
“You said that if Woodrup finds out, you and her screwed. So now he won’t find out.”
“What if your parents ask?” You questioned.
“Never going to happen. Trust me.”
Your father raised his brows. “Okay, then. This all remains entre nous. Got it? You know what entre nous means?”
“Oui, monsieur.” He smirked “Now you owe me.”
“Owe you?” Your father gasped. “Do not try to leverage me, Mr. Tully.”
“All I’m looking for is little thank you that I did something nice for you. That’s all.”
You shrugged, deciding you wanted a treat too. “It is Christmas Eve-Eve.”
Your father took you all out to ‘The Winning Ticket’; the classiest tavern within 50 miles. Classy being the less dingy, place in Barton. As your father and ‘Friend of Some Sort’ had a minor debate on underage drinking, you saw the last waitress you wanted approach.
“Miss Crane, as I live and breathe.” Your father sounded amazed as if he saw Aphrodite herself. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, hi guys!” She laughed “Yeah, I always pick up a little extra work over Thanksgiving and Christmas.”
“Well uh,” he gestured to Angus. “This is Mr. Tully.” Then to you beside him. “And this is-you already know my daughter.”
“Yes,” she nodded. “quite well. My niece knows her too if you can believe that.”
He laughed a little louder than he should have, and you wanted to crawl under the table and bang your head against the metal support until you split your skull open.
“Oh, and sure, I know you.” Miss Crane nodded to Angus.
“Angus Tully,” he smiled. “we met outside of Dr. Woodrup’s office. I was wrongly accused of blowing up a toilet.”
“Well, I didn’t know about the ‘wrongly’ part. I just know that miss Hunham talks a lot about you when she visits.”
Aaand now you wanted to just take any of the silverware off the table (even the spoon would work) and stab yourself.
“Does she?” He teased.
You were quick with a comeback. “About how ridiculously annoying you are. I was baking cookies and Elise nearly crawled into the oven because the things I said about you were just too horrible for her to hear.”
“Now be nice.” Your father said.
“When have I never?”
The three of you ordered (after another discussion about alcohol and underage drinking with Miss Crane this time), and it did not escape you or Angus how your father’s eyes were still on her even after she left.
“Ouch,” Angus smiled. “you two have chemistry.”
“That’s the Percodan talking.” Your father pointed out.
“I don’t know, seeing her like this, I think she’s pretty attractive.”
You gagged, not even having the will to come up with a good comeback, you were so disgusted. Thankfully, your father had one.
“Listen, you hormonal vulgarian, that woman deserves your respect, not your erotic speculation.”
You never gave it much thought; your father dating women after your mother died. He just never truly seemed that interested in anyone, and he said it himself, he never goes out. Still…while you do want him to be happy, the woman of interest is your best friend’s aunt-.
Angus pursed his lips. “May I at least go to the bathroom? Sir? “
“You mean the payphone?” Even when he saw Angus’ eyes darken, your father still was not stirred. “Jo March, accompany him, please.”
You sighed. “Why do I have to be his keeper?”
“Because I, Pontius Pilate, washed my hands of him, remember?”
With that being said, you walked with Angus over to the bathrooms, and waited outside with your arms crossed like a child being punished. After a few minutes, he came back out, and the first thing you asked was.
“How’d you lie so easily?”
He gave you a look. “When?”
“The hospital.” You clarified. “You came up with a whole story on the spot that was so convincing, you had a nurse wrapped around your finger within a minute.”
Angus shrugged, beginning to walk away. “You were honestly the icing on the cake.”
“Oh, thank you.” You spoke with sarcasm, following him. “But honestly, you-.”
“-Are you any good at pinball?”
Okay mister ‘Trying to Change the Subject’, you’d play this game (literally and figuratively). “Yeah, I think so.”
He grabbed two dimes from his pocket. “Wanna bet?”
“I guarantee you that’s all the money you have, so there’s nothing to bet.”
“Not exactly.” You both wandered over to the machines. “If I win, you owe me something, and vice versa.”
“And if I wanted you to get out of my life?”
“Done and done, but only If you win, which you won’t.” He put the dimes on top of the machine a guy was playing on.
“Sorry, kid. Next game’s taken.” The many said.
Angus furrowed his brow. “But I just put some dimes down.”
“Don’t care. My buddy’s up next.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“That’s how it works in here. Why don’t you go shoot the other fuckin’ machine?”
“Because I don’t want to shoot the other fuckin’ machine.”
You put your hand on his non-injured arm. “Angus, it’s fine.”
Before he could retaliate, the man lost the game, sighing. “Thanks for fuckin’ up my mojo. Kenny! You’re up.”
“Bullshit.” Angus shook his head. “I put my dimes down, so we’re up next.”
“What was that?” You both looked and saw ‘Kenny’, a drunk man with a hook for his right hand. Shit… “Hey, kiddies,” he snapped his fingers at the both of you. “my eyes are up here.”
His friend snorted. “Look at these fucking kids; spoiled little Barton boy and his prissy girlfriend.”
Not the first nor the last time you were a smartass to a man where it will almost get you killed. “I’ll have you know, gentlemen, he is not my boyfriend; he is the reason I hope every day I become an only child.”
“You know what?” Angus stepped in before Kenny could respond. “You can just take my dime.”
“Take it?” He taunted. “You want me to take your dime? Like it’s charity?”
“No, what I mean is, we could play together.” and let this be known that Angus Tully was not always great at thinking on his feet. “Yeah, you could be my left arm.”
“The fuck did you just say to me?!”
Flinching at his tone, you decided to actually use your brain, for once. “Oh my gosh, I think I hear Dad calling us.” You took Angus’ hand without thinking. “Come on Fitzwilliam, you fucked everything up as always.”
You didn’t care that two, pissed off men were following and yelling at you, you didn’t even care that you were holding Angus’ Tully’s hand and having him trip over his own feet as you pulled him back to your table, you just needed to get out of there.
“Papa,” you call out to your father. “can we go please?”
He hummed at your arrival (and the term of endearment, which you only use if something has gone array). “Why?”
“Our favorite asshole got us in trouble.”
“Hey!” Kenny shouted at you and Angus. “Why’d you run off? We were just talking to you. Do they teach you manners at that school?”
Hook for hand be damned, your fight or flight instincts kicked in when he put his hand on Angus and you were about to be the reason he’d lose it. Then, Miss Crane stepped in.
“Kenneth, leave them alone, they just came in for some food.”
Still, he looked like he was about to charge the both of you.
Your father stepped in next. “Kenneth, is that right? I don’t doubt that he did something to offend you. It’s his specialty. Perhaps I could purchase you gentlemen something to imbibe, and we could let whatever this unfortunate incident is go the way of the dodo.”
“The what?” The first guy playing pinball asked.
“The dodo,” Angus said. “it’s an extinct bird.”
“What he’s trying to say is,” Miss Crane translated. “he wants to buy you guys a beer.”
It didn’t take long for the two men to consider it. Kenny nodded. “Yeah, okay.”
“Same here.” His friend agreed. “I’ll have a Miller.”
“The champagne of beers.” Angus smiled, nodding.
It was when everything final cooled down, and as the two men and Miss Crane left to get their drinks, did you notice you were still holding Angus’ hand. Which you let go of as if you were holding fire in the palm of your hand.
He went back to his moody self after that, as you were walking back to the car after finishing dinner (no connection of course).
“Why’d you buy those guys beer? They’re assholes.”
Your father shrugged. “That’s one way to look at it. Here, catch.”
He tossed him the keys, which he caught. Your father continued his lecture, walking ahead of both of you. “How many boys do you know who have had their hands blown off? Barton boys don’t go to Vietnam. They go to Yale or Dartmouth or Cornell, whether they deserve to or not.”
Angus glanced at you. “Except for Curtis Lamb.”
“Except for Curtis Lamb.” Your father repeated his words when they stood outside the car.
“Were you ever in the military?”
“Yes, I tried to enlist in ‘41, but was rejected-I have to get in over there.” He said after failing to open the door on the driver’s side. He walked over to the passenger’s (which you begrudgingly allowed Angus to have this time) side that Angus unlocked. “They made me an air raid warden. Gave me a whistle and everything. Helmet. Arm band.”
You opened the back door and slid into the seats, but Angus stayed outside, asking. “Before we get going, can I be candid with you?”
Your father already was used to that question from you, so he didn’t even look scared when he hummed his approval.
“You smell.” He got into the car. “And it’s really noticeable toward the end of the day. I even smell it on your coat. Mind if I crack the window?”
He didn’t even wait for his response before rolling the window down anyway. Before you could say something snarky to defend your father, he spoke first. “Trimethylaminuria.”
Angus furrowed his brow. “Huh?”
“Trimethylaminuria.” He repeated. “Means my body can’t break down trimethylamine. That’s the smell. And uh, yes, more toward the end of the day.”
“Wow…your whole life?”
Your father nodded.
“No wonder you’re afraid of women.” Angus said your name, glancing back at you. “How did he marry your mom?”
Your jaw dropped, and only inaudible noises came out at first before you settled on. “I’m too sober for that conversation.”
“For the record,” Your dad interrupted, stunned. “I am not afraid of women, and you shouldn’t be asking a girl personal questions after insulting her father. Jesus.”
Angus nodded. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. Dr. Getler says I should give more consideration to my audience.”
“Who’s Dr. Getler?” You asked.
“My shrink.”
Your father decided to jump in. “Has Dr. Gertler ever tried a good swift kick in the ass?
He scoffed. “Okay, now your turn. Go ahead, tell me something about me. Something negative.”
“Something negative about you?”
“Sure, just one thing.”
“Just one?” You and your father questioned.
He nodded, preparing for the absolute worst, but it never came. Your father merely turned back to the front, started the car, and began to make the long drive back to Barton. You weren’t even out of the neighborhood when Angus then asked.
“Fitzwilliam?” He looked at you. “What kind of name is that?”
Your father snickered. “That’s what you called him?”
You shrugged. “The guys thought he was a stuck-up rich boy, but he’s really awkward and looks like he wants to kill himself every time someone looks at him, I had to.”
“He strikes me more as a Hamlet.”
To anyone who didn’t know anything about Shakespeare, that would be a compliment. To you and your father specifically, it made you laugh. Of course Angus Tully would be one of the most overdramatic characters in theatre.
“Seriously,” the boy in question said tiredly. “who the hell is Fitzwilliam?”
Your father shook his head. “My advice, Mr. Tully? Brush up on the classics; Pride and Prejudice would be a good place to start.”
None of you had the strength to do much more that night besides spending time in your rooms before bed. It was as you were a few chapters into Little Women, did you wonder.
“Why were you and my dad yelling at each other this afternoon?”
Angus looked up from his copy of Popular Mechanics to see you in the doorway once you asked that question. You both were both just wearing your pajamas and socks; outfits you had only seen each other in for either a short number of times, in dimmed lighting, or with jackets over.
It felt different this time…stranger, even.
“Hello to you too.” He greeted, setting the magazine down.
“Well?”
Pursing his lips, he didn’t look at you at first before saying. “I was calling a hotel.”
“Your mom’s?”
“No, one in Boston.”
“Why would you…?” The look on his face said it all. That look of regret and pity that you didn’t understand what he meant right away. “Oh…”
You wanted nothing more than to have said it with disgust, but it was disappointment that laced the word. Then, with a mix of anger and even hurt.
“Am I that insufferable to be around?”
He shot his head up. “What? No.”
“Seems like it.” You scoffed, beginning to pace around the room. “What happened to ‘Friends of some sort’? I asked you if we were fine because I felt like you’d gone quiet, and you said we were. I get it; you asked me to tell you the craziest thing that happened to me, and I should’ve just said ‘I got slightly drunk at a party’, not everything. You barely tell me anything about yourself, and then I just go and throw out the shittiest things that have happened to me. It’s not fair, and I’m sorry-.”
“-My father’s dead.”
Nothing could’ve gotten you to shut up faster.
It caused you such a shock, that you sat down on the bed beside him, staring at him. His gaze changed in a matter of seconds; when he first told you and you looked at him, you’d never seen anyone surer. Then, as shock settled into you, discomfort did for him. You let the quietness between you linger for a moment, terrified of your own response.
“I…I had a feeling.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
You were expecting him to immediately respond, but he didn’t. You debated on just sitting in the silence, or crawling back into your room and pretending this didn’t happen, when Angus finally spoke up.
“I was thirteen, he was…really, really sick for some time but then it just happened so fast and…I don’t really like talking about it, I’m sorry-.”
“-No, I shouldn’t have pressured you-.” You relented first, and ff the circumstances weren’t bleak, it would be funny how you both spoke over each other.
“-You weren’t, you told me something about yourself and I should’ve-.”
“-You aren’t in debt or some bullshit to share anything with me-.”
“-I just haven’t really told people that before-.”
“-Your arm wasn’t the worst thing I saw in a hospital.” You decided to break the loop, and it was successful. “My mother was sick too and…” You chuckled, but felt tears prick your eyes all of a sudden at the thought. “God, she’ll haunt me for this, but she was so skinny the last time I saw her…Cancer. She and my dad were debating on if I should see her like that before she goes, and I won the argument in the end that, yes, I needed to say goodbye. I’m glad I did, no, that’s not what I think of when I think of her but…it scared me. I was eleven.”
He nodded, listening without interruption; a skill that seemed he only acquired during these small moments of vulnerability. Well, you wouldn’t necessarily call yourself vulnerable; you were merely answering his questions truthfully based on your experiences (of course; no vulnerability whatsoever. You didn’t open yourself up to others outside of your father and Mary, why would you to Angus Tully?)
“I went to the chapel before anyone else woke up and I just couldn’t stop staring at the picture of Curtis Lamb…I can’t even say it got me thinking about death or anything like that I just…I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I felt weird and wanted to run away.”
“I get that.”
“I’m sorry for trying to get a hotel by the way,” he apologized again. “if that matters.”
You gave him a smile. “It does.”
For the first time in a while, you thought you saw him smile too; a genuine one, mind you, not the shit-eating grin he often gave you and everyone else. It was then you decided to get up and head to bed, bidding him goodnight. Then, again, you stopped in the doorway from another thought.
“What were you going to call me?”
“Huh?” He perked his head up.
“When you were crying about being stuck over here for Christmas?” You alluded. “You and my father are losers, Mary’s a grieving mom, but what am I?”
His eyes drifted in thought, then back to you. “‘Your know-it-all daughter.’ That’s what I was gonna say.”
“Yeah,” you nodded, smiling as you backed out into your room. “I do know all, Angus Tully.”
You couldn’t see his face anymore when you went to your bed, but you heard his sarcastic ‘Goodnight’ with him saying your full name, and your chest felt lighter than it did the night prior to talking with him.
…What the hell was happening to you?
You were giddy, you giggled to yourself about nothing and had to hide your mouth under the blanket so Angus wouldn’t hear you in the other room. For a moment, when asking him what he would’ve called you, you wanted him to say ‘pretty’. So much shit happened that day, but the one thing, the one thing that your mind goes back to is taking his hand, and not letting go until you realized-…
…No…
No…
Oh, what the fuck?!
Oh god!
Once you were happy about having a newfound crush on Angus Tully, and now you were in absolute agony.
What a wonderful way to spend Christmas Eve-Eve.
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Cake Eater’s Delight
Matt Sturniolo X Reader
A/N: here’s your anal fic as promised! I spent way too much time describing yoga positions. For this, I am extremely sorry.
Contains: smut, anal, oral, butt plugs
TW: BEARS! Also, the term "Butt Slut" You give me a simple request, and I will do the absolute most
Y/N is wearing yoga pants that accentuate her ass. Matt is intent on fucking it.
Today is self-care Sunday, and Y/N just finished making a strawberry banana smoothie with extra protein powder for her boyfriend, Matt. It’s seven a.m., and she has the whole day planned, but first, she has to get him up and ready.
“Wakey wakey, My sweet boy.” she chirps eagerly, holding the smoothie to his face.
“Oh god.” he groans, wipes the sleep from his eyes, and sees how hyped Y/N is. Still very disoriented, he says, “I see you’re having a good morning, Baby, but what time is it?”
“It’s seven a.m. and I’m super excited for our early morning nature walk!”
He sits up and sighs. “The fuckin’ nature walk.” Matt was actually pretty enthusiastic about this last night when he agreed to it, but not so much this morning. It’s too early, and he just wants Y/N to come back and be the big spoon for the next two hours. The smoothie, however, is immaculate, and he made her a promise. He summons all of his strength and swings his legs over the side of the bed. He sits facing Y/N and says with a smile, “I’ve never been more pumped for anything in my life!” Y/N gives him a bone-crushing hug before skipping off to get him the outfit she picked for him yesterday. Matt can’t help but stare at her booty as she makes her way to the closet. Those damn yoga pants get him every time.
Half an hour later, they arrive at the closest California state park. Matt is warming up to the idea of this walk. He really does love nature, and having a little stroll in it is certainly something he would do as self-care. “Maybe we’ll see a bear!” Y/N squeals.
“I love bears. They're so fucking big and dumb.” He really does hope they see a bear. His excitement over seeing a dangerous animal in the wild isn’t his fault. He has a very serious condition called white man curiosity. Bless him and his family.
As they walk the dirt trail, Matt tells her facts about all the animals and plants they encounter. At some point, the trail leads them to a very colorful part of the woods filled with flowers. The trail has slowly been getting narrower, so Matt is now walking behind Y/N. “Baby, If I sincerely told you that I accidentally body-swapped with my sister, would you believe me?”
He’s deeply confused by the question, but he has an answer for it, regardless. “I would probably ask you a question that only you could answer first.” he pauses to laugh at how silly she is. “Would you believe me?”
“Most definitely,” she responds with unnatural quickness.
Matt is taken aback. “Why so certain?”
“Well, now that we’ve had the conversation, I don’t think you’d say you were body-swapped unless it actually happened.”
He’s getting very invested in the conversation now. “I’m not worried about it because you only really get body-swapped with people you dislike. So I don’t think there’s any danger of this happening to me and my brothers.”
“I don’t hate my sister, but we are polar opposites, so I see body-swap potential.”
“Be careful not to get sucked into any body-swapping hijinks, My love.”
“I’ll try, but no promises.”
Suddenly, he grabs her arm and stops her in her tracks. Y/N turns around to look at him, but all she sees is a beautiful array of flowers. Matt had been behind her, picking a bouquet of flowers as they talked. He moves the flowers from in front of his face and hands them to Y/N. “It’s a thank-you gift. I truly am having an amazing time today.”
“This is insanely fucking sweet. Thank you so much, Baby.” She leans in to give him a soft peck on the cheek. “I think we should start heading back though. We’re getting kinda far out.” They had gotten lost in each other's company and didn’t notice that they had been walking for an hour and covered at least 2 miles of the 5-mile trail.
Matt tears his gaze from Y/N’s face to take in their environment. “Goddamn, we’re like way out in the fuckin wild!” He can tell Y/N is getting somewhat uncomfortable with the thought of being so deep in the woods, so he holds out his hand for her to take and starts to walk her back down the trail.
Y/N lets go of his hand and taps him furiously on the shoulder. “Matt. Matt, it actually fucking happened. Look!” she whispers in his ear and points into the distance.
“A bear!” Matt yells.
“Hush!” she hits him hard on the head. “Don’t be the idiot who gets killed because he screamed at a bear. Just get the camera out.”
He fumbles with his backpack but realizes he didn’t pack it. He was so sure they wouldn’t come across a bear. The pictures and videos he takes on his phone will have to do for their next vlog. Once Matt has all the bear material he needs, they continue down the dirt path, tip-toeing very quietly.
When they finally reach their car, they’re exhausted, sweaty, and gross. Matt, however, is also rocking a semi. He’s been walking behind Y/N for hours now, watching how her ass moves. They’ve just started experimenting with butt stuff recently. He’s been obsessed with her backside ever since. He can't get the image of the pink hello kitty butt plug sticking out of her ass out of his mind. The drive home is pleasant and gives him time to calm down. Matt doesn’t want his horniness to get in the way of the day Y/N has planned.
They arrive home, and Y/N flops on their bed. The walk was way longer than it was supposed to be. She’s anxious to tell Matt about the next activity she has planned, but she needs a quick break to hydrate. Matt comes in clutch and brings her the Stanley cup she filled up that morning but forgot to bring. She sits up and takes the cup. “Thank,” she says as she takes a sip. “God!”
“Don’t thank God. Thank me, Honey.” he winks as she absolutely chugs her water. There’s water dripping from the sides of her mouth running down her neck and breasts. Fuck she can even make drinking like a feral caveman look sexy. When she finishes, she sets the cup down, and Matt’s dick jumps in his pants. She looks like she could be in a wet t-shirt contest. He’s really fighting for his life right now and needs an activity to distract himself. “Alright! Get up, Baby. It’s time for whatever’s next on the list.” He hopes it's something lame and calming like meditation or maybe some silly facial skin routine.
“Okay, I’ll go get the yoga mats and bring them to the living room.” She hops up from the bed, fully recharged and energetic as ever. “Oh, yay. I’m gonna bring my new yoga ball, too!”
“Oh, good!” he says quite insincerely. He should have seen this coming. She’s wearing the yoga pants she reserves for actually doing yoga. This is going to be torture. He tucks his boner into his waistband and waits for Y/N in the other room.
When meets him there, she kicks her yoga ball into the corner and gives Matt a big hug before setting up their pink and blue yoga mats. She’s so happy to be spending the day relaxing and playing around with him. Her ponytail whips around behind her as she spins to face Matt. “Did you know it’s actually recommended that you do yoga or stretch after long walks? The walk wasn’t meant to be long, but how lucky it is that my plan works out.” She’s speaking extremely quickly due to her excitement. She pauses for a breath but begins talking again before Matt can respond. “Are you ready?” she asks expectantly.
“Of course, My love. Your plan is perfect.”
They stand on their respective mats, and Y/N realizes that Matt has probably never done yoga in his life. “Let me show you five poses you need to know before we start.” He takes a deep breath and prepares for a face full of outstretched booty, but to his surprise, she sits down crisscrossed. “We’re gonna start off with the Sukhasana. Just sit down, touch your pointer fingers to your thumbs, and close your eyes.”
“Seems easy enough,” He says and patiently watches as she changes pose.
“Then we’re gonna transition into the Adho Mukha Svanasana. Just get on your hands and knees,” she demonstrates as she talks. “Place your hands down in front of you, shoulder-width apart. Then walk your legs back so your hands are under your shoulders, and your knees are under your hips.”
“That’s a lot of words to explain what I believe is the very simple-looking downward-facing dog.” Yup. This is exactly what he expected. It’s awful and stressful, but it’s also absolutely fucking glorious. Her booty is a piece of art crafted specifically for him by the hands of God. He tears his eyes away and looks at her face as she once again, changes her pose.
“Oh, shut up. I’m trying to sound like a yoga professional,” she says with a small chuckle. “Anyway, the next pose is the pigeon pose.”
“Yeah, super fancy and professional.” He smirks, and she rolls her eyes.
“Moving on!” she says, letting out an exasperated breath, “From the Adho Mukha Svanasana position, you’re gonna lift your left leg up while keeping your other leg straight and your foot arched.”
“Jesus Christ,” Matt whispers loudly. The pose essentially looks like she’s throwing it back on the floor. Her bottom is round and cute, and all he wants to do is reach out and squeeze it. That’s a lie, actually. He wants to smack it. Hard, very fucking hard. He wants to grope her fat, meaty thighs and worship her body. She’s talking, but he can’t hear her. He’s in a trance, and he needs to do something about it. “I’m sorry, Sweetness. I really am, but I can’t keep it to myself anymore.”
Y/N gets up and looks at his face, very concerned. “What’s wrong, Baby?”
He still hasn’t looked up at her face. “It’s your ass.” He licks his lips. “I have to fuck it.”
Y/N moves so that she’s directly in front of him and grabs him by his jaw to make him look at her. She whispers in his ear, “I know.” Matt has been lusting after her all day. There was no possibility that she wouldn’t notice. "Time to destroy my root chakra."
“Fuck yes!” He pulls her into a rough, toothy kiss. His lips are soft, almost silken, and pillowy against hers. His hand reaches up to massage her breast, and she moans into his mouth. She needs him. Needs to see more of him. Y/N tugs at the hem of his shirt. Matt takes the hint, breaks the kiss, and removes it. She puts her hands on his chest and rubs them down his abdomen. He’s so beautiful.
In one swift motion, he wipes her hands away. She whimpers and gives him a pathetic, needy look. “I know you want to touch me, Baby. I know.” He says as he makes his way over to get the yoga ball. “But right now, I need you to bend over this ball and show me that pretty, pretty ass of yours.”
Y/N does as she’s told. She loves it when Matt bosses her around. He pulls at her pants aggressively, and she doesn’t understand what he’s trying to do. Then she hears a tearing sound and feels the cold air on her bare bottom. “You just ripped my favorite yoga pants!”
“Quiet!” He barks. “I’ll get you new ones.” He says as he forces her panties down around her knees. His hands part her cheeks, and he can’t believe what he sees. He has been lusting after this woman all fucking day, thinking he was being a pervert. Little did he know that Y/N had her butt plug in the whole time. He takes a closer look. It’s not her favorite Hello Kitty one, but the one with the blue jewel on the end. Matt’s eyes widened; it’s their second biggest one. Y/N anticipated this, and she always comes prepared.
He kneads both of her cheeks as he asks, “Oh, Sweet girl, did you plan this? Was this part of your little self-care day? Did you need to be a little butt slut for me to feel complete?”
“I do.” She whines. “Last night, I got so horny thinking about you playing with my ass.”
“I can tell, Sweetheart. You used the big blue one. We’ve never even touched that one before. Were you training your ass for me?” He sits on his knees behind her so his face is level with her rear. Matt takes his time biting and kissing her ass. She lets out a hiss when he starts to play with the plug, pulling it out only to put it back in again. Every little movement has her gasping. He keeps going until she’s too loose for the stretch. He slaps her on the ass with so much force he leaves a handprint, and she lets out a wail.
“I know we haven’t done it before, but do you want to take my cock?” he asks.
“I want to try,” she says in a shaky voice.
“Are you sure?”
“I am. I swear.”
“I promise I’ll be gentle, but first,” He shoves his pants and boxers down and takes his cock in his hand as he walks around to Y/N’s front. “I need you to lube up my cock. Can you do that for me, Baby?”
“Mhmm, I can.” She replies eagerly and opens wide.
Her mouth is wet and warm around his cock. He holds her hands behind her back so she has to deep-throat him to reach his base. The dirty, sloppy sounds coming from his thrusts in and out of her throat are music to his ears. He needs to hear more. He grabs her by the ponytail and fucks her face harder. He wants to hear her choke and gag. She doesn’t mind it. She’s just happy to be of service. Her mouth is so fucking perfect, but he needs to stop before he cums. He pulls out, and she gasps for air. “You okay? Catch your breath, Baby.” He gives Y/N time to orient herself.
“I’m okay.” She gives him a big smile. Only sluts smile like that after choking on cock.
“If you want me to stop at any point, just tell me, and I'll stop.”
Y/N nods her head, and Matt takes his spot behind her. He pulls the butt plug out very carefully and sets it aside. Her pussy is so wet and leaking, but he ignores it entirely, except to say, “You’re dripping down your thighs, My love.” he smiles to himself as he taps his cock on her ass. “You’re soaking your new exercise ball,” he says as he slowly pushes his tip in. When he finally pushes in past his tip, it burns and hurts, but she loves the sensation. She keeps thinking that it can’t get any longer, but it just keeps going, and the stretch burns until, eventually, he gives her all of him. Her asshole clenches hard, and it feels so fucking amazing, but then it’s burning and hurting right at the entrance, and she whimpers as he pulls himself out halfway. He’s going so slow, and he wants to speed up so badly. Her asshole feels so much better than he imagined it would. He knew she would be tight, but he didn’t know how deep she could take him. She can’t fit him all the way in when he fucks her pussy. It feels so nice to be able to give her everything he’s got.
“You can go faster now.”
“Oh, yes.” he bites his lip and speeds up to a respectable pace.
“No, faster. I need it faster,” she says desperately. He picks up the pace, and finally, he starts to feel like he’s properly fucking her. She’s moaning and whining because it feels so bad and so good at the same time. It’s a very confusing sensation, but all she knows is she wants to cum so badly. Usually, Matt likes to make Y/N cum first, but he doesn’t know if anal will make her cum, and he just can’t resist cumming in her ass. He stands her up so she’s up against his chest and reaches in front of her to rub her clit. This is what she needs, what she’s been missing. He loves the sounds she’s making. He doesn’t even notice he’s been drilling into her faster and faster. Y/N is letting out loud yelps with every thrust. If anyone overheard them, they would think she was in agony.
“I’m gonna cum, Baby. I want you to try to cum with me. Can you do that?” he says, breathing heavily.
“I can try.”
“What do you need, Love? How can I help you cum?”
“Please pull my hair.” His hands are around her ponytail before she can even get all the words out. He pulls so hard she’s forced to look up at the ceiling.
“Like that?”
Her eyes are rolling to the back of her head. “Fuck, yes! Just like that! I’m gonna cum!”
Matt puts more pressure on her clit and feels her cumming. It feels different from when he’s in her pussy. The thought of having had every one of her holes pushes him to the edge, and he releases himself into her asshole.
Y/N’s knees buckle, and she collapses onto the exercise ball and pants. He wants to ask her if she’s alright, but he’s distracted watching his cum leak out of her ass. “Fuck,” he leans over to pick he up bridal style. “Let's get you into a bath, okay?”
“You’re not gonna believe this, but that’s actually next on the list.”
“Perfectly planned, My love.”
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prompt: legacy
Vegas twists the ring on his finger and replays the scene in his mind again. Porsche, wounded and vulnerable, and Kinn knelt by his side. At Vegas’s feet. He wonders what would have happened if he’d had time to pull the trigger– first on Porsche, then Kinn.
Chances are he would have been killed. They were still outnumbered on enemy grounds, he probably wouldn’t have even made it out of the garage.
His father would still be dead. And whatever future he had envisioned for his son had died with him.
Still– he can’t help but think about it. If he’d succeeded, how would the main family ring have felt on his finger, instead?
“We’re back!” Macau’s shout jolts Vegas back to the present, where his curry has reached a gentle simmer.
Pete shuffles into the kitchen just behind Macau, smile widening when his eyes meet Vegas’s.
“This smells great,” he says appreciatively. “I think we got everything you wanted.” He places a full bag on the countertop next to where Vegas is working.
“You’re everything I want,” Vegas responds without thinking, and grins at both Pete’s automatic blush and Macau’s overexaggerated gagging.
“Stop it,” Pete mumbles. He places a chaste kiss on Vegas’s cheek before starting to put the groceries away.
“Phi, can you help me? I don’t get this homework.” Macau has managed to splay what looks like the entire contents of his backpack on the kitchen table in the seconds Vegas was looking away.
“In a minute, this is nearly done.”
“Do you want these washed?” Pete asks, gesturing to some fresh herbs.
“I’ll do it, you sit down.” He removes his ring and rolls his sleeves up, running some water to rinse the herbs. “Maybe you can help Macau.”
“With English?” Both Pete and Macau say incredulously. Vegas laughs at the offended look on Pete’s face as they begin to bicker good naturedly, leaving Vegas to return to his cooking.
It’s not until much later, when dinner has been eaten and the dishes are being collected up, that Vegas realises he never put the ring back on.
ending at the ending <3 this has been such a fun little anniversary project, it felt right to once again leave off with my favourite boys living their best post-canon life
#kpanniversary2024#kp fic#boots writes#vp#thank you everyone for following along with these prompts and THANK YOU DREAMY FOR ORGANISING!!#i'm amazed i managed what i set out to do and only missed one haha#oh and massive thanks to lu for helping edit... all of these
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King and Prince 18
Part 17
He’d heard stories from Dustin and the others about the tales Eddie made up for them. But hearsay was different from actually experiencing it. There was a quick review, a recap that Steve could tell was purely for him, someone who hadn’t been present for the previous tellings. And then they were off.
Eddie started off sitting but didn’t stay still for long. He moved like a man possessed as he weaved the next part of the story. His voice and his mannerisms changed depending on who he was speaking for. An old innkeeper had a withery tone and moved like a frail elder. But then he was a seamstress, with a soothing voice and an elegant way about her movements and gestures. The only time he stopped was when he paused to ask the others what their characters would do in the situation they found themselves in.
“Stop trying to tell Will what to do, he knows what he should do”, Lucas said.
“Obviously he doesn’t if he hasn’t made a move yet”, Mike said, not backing down.
“You guys aren’t considering every angle”, Will said. “If I go on the offensive, we can cut through, but at the risk of all our stamina. If I go on the defensive, we risk running out of time.”
“And we NEED to save Max and El”, Dustin reminded them.
Max scoffed. “Who said we need saving? El’s working on the lock right now and I can zoom us out.”
“Your confidence is admirable, but misguided”, Mike deadpanned, flinching when Max lunged forward for a fake out punch.
She snorted and gave him a five finger love tap anyway. Eddie watched them all with a devilish grin, probably the most mischievous Steve had ever seen him before they finally came to a decision. The story moved on and ended with a cliffhanger of the boys making it to the wizard’s tower just as the girls broke free of their cage.
“And that is where we shall leave things tonight”, Eddie said, his smile only widening at the groans and boos thrown his way.
“We’re literally crashing through his doors! You can’t end it there!”, Dustin exclaimed.
“You always do this”, Lucas agreed. “You get some sort of fun out of leaving us hanging off the edge.”
Eddie stood up and brushed some imaginary dust off his pants. “That’s my creed, always leave them wanting more. Now off to bed with you.”
With more groaning and moaning, the kids trudged off. Rubbing their eyes and biting back yawns despite denials of being sleepy. Steve stood as well, hanging back just a bit until they were alone.
“So this is a bedtime ritual?”, he asked. “Seems counterintuitive to get them so riled up before bed.”
“Started out that way”, Eddie said. “Grew into this. And what’s wrong with filling their heads with visions of adventure and feats of bravery before they go off to dream land?”
“Well, I must say you’re a master storyteller.”
Eddie moved from his chair and around the table. “We could make a character for you as well, little prince.”
Steve thought about how involved the children got with the story and how there seemed to be rules on who they could interact with and how. It all appeared very technical. He was rather certain they were performing equations in their head while doing it too.
“I think I’ll pass. I wouldn’t want to ruin the flow of your story.”
When Eddie came to stand near him, Steve started towards the door and they easily fell into step next to each other. Standing this close no longer struck fear in his heart. Steve was beginning to understand that regardless of all else, King Edward, Eddie… was just a man. A man who cared about his subjects, about those in his care. Who did things to make them happy. Things like ordering tailored outfits for them.
“You know, I’ve been wanting to learn more about you-your kingdom. And how it all works.”
“How what all works?”, Eddie asked.
“The beasts at your disposal. The conflict between our two lands is mostly because of them. But your people don’t seem to be afraid despite living closer to them.”
“I know just the perfect teacher for you”, Eddie said as they got to Steve’s door.
Steve imagined Eddie taking him out into the woods again, allowing him to see the beasts face to face and learn first hand what made them so unique. He imagined also getting to know Eddie better. Many parts of him were still a mystery.
So he was a little disappointed the next day when a knock came on his door and it was not Eddie.
“You’re not Eddie.”
“No, I’m Scott Clarke. His Majesty has tasked me with your education. You can call me Mr. Clarke, the rest of the kids do.”
Steve had heard that name here and there from the kids, one of the castle tutors, the one they liked the most. Even so, it felt a little juvenile to be sat down in the library and looked over books and diagrams of something he had already seen with his own eyes.
“You might notice, Your Highness, that tensions rise between our lands mostly in the fall and winter. That is no coincidence. Demobeasts go into hibernation once spring begins and the weather starts to warm up. That doesn’t mean you won’t see the odd one out, perhaps to get a little snack in between its long sleep, but for the most part…”
Steve tried his best to pay attention, he really did. But he wasn’t much for book learning. He got by long enough to learn the basics, but he learned better by doing. Hands on sort of experiences. He tried sitting in Clarke’s lessons for a few days before getting sick of it and finally seeking Eddie out himself.
“You know, when I asked to learn more about your kingdom, I expected to learn from the king”, Steve said when he caught Eddie in the hallway.
“Ah, a king’s work is never done. I thought to give you a man whose knowledge rivals my own. If you wanted some special attention from me, all you had to do is say so.”
They were at least three feet apart and yet Steve felt pinned down by that gaze. It had been a while since he and Eddie had been alone. What would a private tutoring session even look like? Would Steve be able to focus on the actual lesson or…
“I wanted to learn about you too”, he admitted quietly before clearing his throat and speaking more confidently. “So you won’t teach me yourself?”
“I think if you really want to learn, you need to open your ears”, Eddie said.
----------------------------
Steve took to asking others about Eddie instead. About his abilities, about his past, about everything. He spoke to Robin first, hoping to get the most straightforward answer.
“What’s there to say? He’s super old, he’s been ruling since forever, he can shapeshift and control beasts. You know the rest, total joker underneath it all.”
“How long have you known him?”, Steve asked.
“A few years. My mom was less than thrilled that I share affections with other women and I had to find a place to stay. Eddie let me in and the rest is history.”
When he asked Dustin it would’ve been easier to list the things Eddie wasn’t capable of. Changing into any creature imaginable, the power of flight, of sight beyond sight, whatever that meant. It got to the point where Steve was sure he was making things up.
“Next you’re going to tell me he’s an incredible dancer and can cook too.”
“Actually, he can’t do any of those things”, Dustin said. “He does this weird jig that makes his legs look broken and everything he makes comes out either under or overcooked.”
Well, that was a couple supposed flaws. But it didn’t really give him a better image of Eddie. He thought to question the other kids and got very similar answers. The boys practically worshiped the ground he walked on. El spoke reverently as well but didn’t really talk about how she and Eddie had met. Max was less impressed by the feats Eddie had accomplished but despite everything, she respected him.
It wasn’t lost on Steve that most of these children rarely mentioned their parents. Dustin’s mother worked in the kitchen and only after asking directly did Lucas reveal he had a family that lived in the town. But the others were still an enigma. Just as he thought to press deeper, Nancy shoved him against the wall.
“Hey what-”
“Why are you interrogating everyone?”
“Interrogating? Does it look like that?”
“You’re asking personal questions. A lot of them people might not want to answer”, Nancy said, glaring at him.
“I’m just trying to understand.”
“Understand what?”
“Everything? Everyone? People have always said I’m an idiot and for once I’m trying to fix that.”
Nancy glared and crossed her arms. “Sometimes people aren’t so open to sharing. I hope you understand that.”
“I do.”
Her expression softened just a little. “A lot of us have things we want to hide. That’s why we’re here-Eddie-he-he lets us live the way we want. Without fear. That’s the most important thing. At least in my opinion.”
Steve nodded. “I understand.”
And he did. He just wished to know, to really know, to be…well a part of it all. Sometimes it still felt like he was on the outside looking in. He was sitting by his window, gazing up at the stars, wondering what else was missing. Just about all his needs were being met. He was getting closer with everyone. And yet there was still this itch under his skin. He felt silly the next morning, but it took a hazy dream of hands and lips and then waking up to his own erection to realize what he had been hungry for.
Part 19 coming soon
Tag Team
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SUBBY IZZY. I'M TALKING MOMMY KINK. EVERYTHING. PLEASE SUBBY IZZY.
A/n: I love subby men, they're just so pretty, so I hope I made this good for you <3
Warnings: Smut, face sitting, bondage, squirting, sub/dom dynamics, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!
I need to talk about this picture for a second Idk why there’s a dog but I it makes it better, the dog looks like it’s trying to make Izzy proud??? Is it scared of him??? Is it trying to be like him??? idk and idc, it’s just aksjsndh. thank you for coming to my rant
You and Izzy met after a Guns N’ Roses gig, one in a bar since they were just starting out. You and Izzy got to talking by the bar after, he offered to buy you drinks but also mentioned that he didn’t have any money.
Your relationship was friends with benefits, and more than one. Since Izzy didn’t have a house you let him live with you free of payment. Any money payment, that is.
Instead of money he’d pay by being your little toy once a week, sometimes more. You had rules set in place so no one got hurt, of course, but you had more than enough fun with him.
Guns had gone on a quick tour and Izzy left without a final payment, meaning he was late and you were needy. He came right back as if nothing was wrong, unlocking the door ready to tell you of all the fun he had when he paused.
You were standing in the doorway to the bedroom in a set of black red lingerie, holding black rope in your one hand while the other rested on your hip. The sight alone had Izzy hardening in his pants and he rushed into the apartment, eager to make it up to you.
You tied his wrists behind his back and laid him down on his back on the bed. “You remember our safe word, don’t you?” You asked, tilting his head up to look at you with a finger under his chin. He nodded excitedly with a wonky smile. You gave him a light slap across his face, not enough to really hurt him. “I can’t hear you.”
“Yes! Yes, I-I remember.” You nodded and rubbed the pinkish spot on his cheek.
“Good boy, now be good for mommy.” You moved to hover over his face, having already taken off your panties so he could eat you out properly.
His tongue delved into your, his nose hitting your clit every time you moved your hips. You kept most of your weight off of him at first but as you got closer, needier, you let yourself use him.
Izzy was whining beneath you, tears trickling down his cheeks. Your one hand was in his hair, the other held onto the headboard for stability while you rode his face. “Fuck! Fuck, good boy, such a good boy letting mommy have her way with you.” You moaned, feeling your high getting closer.
You took your hand out of his hair and used it to rub your clit, bringing you over the edge. You pulled yourself off of him, Izzy gasped, finally being able to breathe again. It was short when you squirted on his face, essentially waterboarding him.
You laughed at his wet face, moving down his body and kisses over his neck and chest. He looked up at you with nothing but love and lust. He didn’t care what you did to him so long as you weren’t ignoring him, he loved everything you did to him and he couldn’t get enough.
“Mommy-mommy, please, let me cum, I-I’ll be good.” He said, squirming under you. “I’ll be your good boy.” You thought about it for a moment, thinking of all the ways you could deal with him.
“Good boys pay their debt.” You said with a devilish grin. Izzy whined but you could see it in his eyes he couldn’t be happier to have you take care of him.
After all, he left without paying on purpose. He wanted to see what punishment he’d get.
#guns n roses#guns n roses fanfic#guns n roses x reader#guns n roses smut#gnr#izzy gnr#izzy stradlin smut#izzy stradlin gnr#izzy stradlin x reader#izzy stradlin
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My Home Is You Part 2/3
A/N: Enjoy. Leave a comment, like, or reblog if you've enjoyed it. Thank you to @kingliam2019 for requesting. And @jellybeanstacey0519 & @mrsyixingunicorn10 for asking about a taglist and commenting on the last part.
Fandom: The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare
Pairing: Gus March-Phillips x Female Reader
Warnings: 18+ for language, Nazi's, canon typical violence, possible spoilers for the movie, and mentions of sexual assault.
Part One
“So are you two fucking?” Freddy sits across from you, pointing between you and Gus.
“Freddy!” Gus shouts, outraged as you spit tea across the table, staining the map.
“What?! It’s a valid question!” Freddy grins, crossing his arms over his chest. You cough, trying to catch your breath while Gus pats your back trying to clear your airway. “It’s a small boat,” he continues, despite the incredulous looks from both you and Gus. “And it’s obvious you’re sleeping together, but what I want to know is if you’re fucking?”
“Steamin’ Jesus,” Henry shakes his head and quickly grabs the back of Freddys coat to drag him up the stairs to the deck, his vocal protests growing quiet at he moves further away.
“Here,” you glance up and see Appleyard holding out a glass of water, “Freddy doesn’t have a filter.”
“It’s alright,” you sip slowly at the water, “he’s right, it is a small boat.” You glance at Gus, “filled with intelligent men that are bound to notice I’ve been sleeping in bed with you since the day I arrived.”
“But just sleeping,” Gus brushes a finger over your cheek, before a grin spreads across his cheeks like a cheshire cat. “I’m a lady, and I will not have my virtue questioned,” he holds a hand to his chest in fake modesty, “it’s a struggle, Apple, day and night I have to keep this daring rogue off me.”
“Me?” you ask, faking outrage, “virtue my ass,” you reach a hand out to Apple, “the lady doth protests but everytime I have her moaning into the pillow that protest falls on deaf ears.” Apple looks between you both with a grin shaking his head and rolling his eyes before you both fall into each other with laughter.
“I think you might have met your match,” Apple crosses his arms over his chest, “and a part of me is alarmed as well as pleased.”
“BOSS!” Henry shouts from above, and you rush to the deck, “it’s a British destroyer,” he points off through the fog.
“Do you think they’ve spotted us?” you ask, eyes going wide, “can we hide in the fog?”
“I can’t outrun that, darlin’,” Freddy frowns.
“And if we’ve seen them,” Gus lowers the spyglass, “they’ve surely seen us.”
“What do we do?” you stand beside him and he tugs off his coat, putting it around your shivering shoulders before placing his arm around your waist.
“Well,” he looks around at the other men, “we play the part. We are swedish fisherman, let’s be swedish fisherman.”
The boys work like a well-oiled machine as they quickly remove any guns, explosives, or otherwise unsavory items below deck and hide them away. The destroyer looms closer and the sway of the waves does nothing to quell the unease in your belly. “Time to move, Little Lamb,” Anders, holds his hand out for you and you grab it, sliding your hands into the sleeves of Gus’s coat as he lowers you below deck and hides you away. “Stay put,” he smiles softly, “everything will be okay.”
Gus comes down the stairs, pressing a hand to Anders's shoulder as he moves past him back up to the deck. “You all settled then?” Gus asks, coming to stand before you, you nod silently, “good,” he looks around, “good. We’re going to be fine. I promised you remember?”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” he grabs your arm, tugging you closer before lowering his mouth to your ear, his mustache scratches against your cheek and his breath hot against your neck leaves you trembling.
His voice is low, deep, and etched with promise, “I don’t,” he whispers pressing his lips to your neck for a moment before quickly retreating up the stairs. You fall back against the wall, your breath coming out hard and fast as you quickly pull the wall shut, disappearing from view. The skin of your neck burns like a brand from his kiss, and you press your palm to it and close your eyes remembering every moment like a cinema reel.
The waves kick up as the ship moves alongside the small fishing vessel and you can hear snippets of the conversation. Your blood churning cold when Gus replies using his normal voice, not the accent he’d been practicing moments before. Suddenly you hear your name shouted from above and push the wall back, running up the stairs, “What’s happening?!”
“Help Freddy with the sail,” Henry shouts, everyone moving as quickly as possible, “we need to get the hell out of here.”
You don’t question, doing everything you can to get the boat moving. Finally, everyone but Henry stops, watching the destroyer set off bombs into the water. “U-boat,” Gus replies, coming to stand beside you, holding onto your waist as the ship rocks from the tumultuous waves. The sea becomes quiet, nothing but the whip of the wind as you move further and further away. “Bullseye,” Gus whispers, “I think they got him.”
“But let’s keep going Hayzy,” Freddy shouts, “don’t want to take any chances.”
The rest of the day passes in silence as you all take in the close call. And as night descends and dinner passes no one says a word when Gus climbs into his bunk behind you, pulling you close to his chest, hearing him hum a sweet song in your ear as you drift off to another nightmareless sleep.
The next few days pass without incident as you move closer and closer to the target. Each of the boys has taken to passing the time by teaching you what they do best; Freddy spending hours giving you the ins and outs of explosives, Henry teaching you everything you need to know to man the boat if need be, Apple pouring over maps and documents while discussing strategy, and Lassen, the Danish Hammer, teaching you hand to hand combat so you never have to become a victim again.
“You’ve been busy,” Gus sits down beside you, handing you his water, as you catch your breath from Anders newest lesson; how to breakout of a chokehold.
“I like it,” you smile, water splashing down your chin, “I feel like I can take on the world.”
He grins, brushing the water off your chin with his thumb before putting it in his mouth. Your mouth goes dry as he licks his lips with a wide smile. “Not fair,” you stick your tongue out at him, and he lets out a booming laugh, similar to the first time you heard him back at the Garrison.
“Do you think it’s been easy for me?” he teases, “seeing Lassen’s hands all over you.” His eyes darken, “maybe I should take over the lessons?”
“No,” you shake your head, “then I would learn nothing.”
He scoffs, “I happen to be an excellent teacher.”
“I’m sure,” you replace the top of the water, handing it back to him and standing. You stretch, reaching your hands over your head, his eyes widening as he takes in the sliver of exposed skin between your shirt and pants you borrowed from the boys. You grin, leaning over him and putting a hand on his shoulder before whispering in his ear, “I’ve been sleeping with you for ten days, Gus, and I know for a fact you can’t keep your hands to yourself.”
You pull back with a grin and his mouth gaps open and closed like a fish before he grins, “tease. I’m a good girl.” Gus stays there watching through the rest of the lesson, encouraging and giving feedback. It’s a unique feeling to be around men that not only respect you but also encourage you to fight and learn when it seems the rest of society want to see you as a housewife with a home full of children and a hot meal on the table.
“Alright, Lassen, you’ve hogged her attention for long enough,” Gus stands brushing off his pants.
“Me?” Anders laughs, “I think you should look in the mirror my friend, see who is really hogging all of her attention.”
Gus ignores him holding out a hand for you, “come along, darling, it’s time you learn how to shoot.” You take his hand and he leads you to the front of the boat where he’s arranged a variety of weapons.
“Now what is your experience with guns?” Gus asks, leaning against the table with his arms crossed.
“Well,” you sigh, “I did end up a prison in a Nazi garrison, so the experience has been less than good.
His smile drops and he nods before turning back to the table and lifting a simple handgun. “Okay, we start small,” he lifts the gun, “this is a colt .45, small but deadly, it can be easily concealed. To fire, you remove the safety, set your stance, aim, and fire.”
“Sounds simple enough,” you nod, reaching a hand out for the gun. “First thing, how do I remove the safety?” He spends the next 15 minutes going every minute detail about the weapon until you feel confident you could repeat it back to him.
“Now, stance is very important when learning how to shoot. Because weapons kick back, and if you’re not standing correctly it will knock you on your butt.” He moves behind you, placing his hands on your hips, and raising them the sides of your body and out towards your arm. His mustache tickles your cheek, and he relaxes against you. “Now, steady on the target,” he gestures to the bottle sitting on the edge of the boat, “take a deep breath.” His body moves with your own, each of you taking a deep breath before he whispers in your ear, “Fire.”
The gun kicks back and he holds you steady, the bottle blasting into pieces and shattering into the sea. “Bullseye,” you can hear the smile in his voice as he lowers the gun and replaces it on the table, his body still pressed to yours. “That’s my girl,” he turns you slowly, your eyes rising to meet his.
He’s close, his lips but a breath away, “Gus,” you whisper, “I…I want.”
“What do you want, darling? Say the word and it’s yours,” he smiles softly, his thumbs tracing patterns on your hips. He leans forward, pressing his lips to your cheek, then the other before hovering over your lips, “Tell me, darling. What do you want?”
Your heart thunders in your chest, so loud you’re sure he can hear it. The tension is thick enough to cut with a knife and you can feel the slick between your legs, anticipation for his kiss, his touch building till it’s a raging inferno inside. “I want-”
“BOSS! An urgent message on the wireless!” Freddy shouts and you can’t help the word that slips out of your lips.
“Fuck!” Gus lets out a laugh, pressing a kiss to your forehead before quickly turning towards the stairs.
“Don’t worry darling,” he tosses over his shoulder, “we will continue this conversation later.”
You stand there for a moment composing yourself, the sea doing little to quench the heat from his touch. Never in a million years did you think you’d crave a mans touch like this especially after what happened in that camp. There is a deep seated fear that that experience would tarnish every future encounter, but with Gus, it’s so easy. Everytime he touches you it’s like all the bad fades away, and all that’s left is him.
“I need to get my damn head on straight,” you whisper to the wind before turning to follow him below deck. The boys are standing around the wireless, clenched jaws all around. “What happened?” you ask coming to stand beside Gus and see the message on the notepad. “What does this all mean? Tin of corned beef?”
“It’s code,” he mumbles, wiping a hand on his face, “it means they moved up the sailing date by three days and the port is now filled with more soldiers than any of us were anticipating. Hayzy,” he looks up at the boy, “can you get us there in 12 days?”
“Not the way we’re going,” he shakes his head, “we’ll need to cut through German occupied sea, otherwise we’ll never make it in time.”
“Do what you must,” Gus nods, watching as he retreats upstairs to change course. “Heron says he has a contact who might be able to give us some backup. We need more men if we’re going to live through this.”
“Even then,” Apple sits down across from him, “we can’t take on an entire army.”
“Trust Heron,” Gus leans back in his chair, “he gave us coordinates to meet him. We will make our way there and see what he has to say. This mission,” he licks his lips, “is vital to the British. If we fail, then Britain will fall to German occupation.”
“What are you trying to say?” Apple asks with a groan.
“I’m saying Gentlemen, and Lady,” he nods his head at you, “failure is not an option.”
The boys sit there in silence processing the news before returning to their duties. Gus sits in his chair, his shoulders slumped like they weigh a hundred pounds each. “What can I do?” you stand behind him, massaging his shoulders. He moans, closing his eyes and leaning his head back into your waist.
“I don’t know if we’ll survive this, darling,” he says the words quietly so only you can hear. His voice is heavy with the pressure. “The odds are stacked against us and I’m not a gambling man but if I was, I’m not sure I would bet on us.”
“Don’t say that,” you push his arms out of the way and sit in his lap, his eyes snapping open as he wraps you in his arms and into his chest. “I saw the way you took down that Garrison,” you wrap your arms around his neck and rub the hair at the nape of his neck. “There is not a team alive like yours. If anyone can do this, it’s you.”
“You put too much faith in me, darling,” he says with a sad smile.
“And you don’t put enough.” His forehead presses to your own and you cradle him to your chest, running your fingers through his hair. “You have to come back alive, Gus. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“You’d move on,” he mumbles into your chest, “you’re beautiful, smart, and sharp as a whip. Men would be falling over their feet to marry you.”
“Well that’s just too damn bad!” he lifts his head at your outburst, you hold onto either side of his face, and smile, “because all I want is you. All I need is you, Gus March-Phillips.”
It’s like two magnets, colliding together, his lips press to yours with a hunger deep inside. His lips are warm and soft and you feel his tongue seek out your own as he deepens the kiss. He tastes like tea and those ginger biscuits he loves so much and you feel yourself getting drunk on the taste of him. “Shit,” he pulls back with a groan, pressing his forehead to your own, “I didn’t think it would feel like that.”
“Like what?” you ask, suddenly self-conscious.
He pulls back with a smile, “Perfection.”
The next twelve days pass in a blur. Each day is filled with training, preparation, and endless amounts of kisses. The boys tease every time you sit down for a meal and Gus pulls you into his lap and presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Don’t fuck in my bed,” Freddy shouts one night over a meal and you kick him under the table, feeling Gus chuckle behind you. “Ouch! What the hell?! Some damsel in distress she turned out to be!”
“Anders has been teaching me to fight,” you spit back, “I could easily kick your ass.”
“My little lamb has become a tiger!” Anders shouts gleefully.
“She sure is,” Gus remarks with pride, “that’s my girl.” You lean back in his arms as the others playfully spit out insults back and forth like brothers. Gus joins in occasionally and makes you laugh so hard your belly aches.
“All joking aside,” Apple wipes the tears from the corners of his eyes, “we arrive at the coordinates tomorrow. Heron should be there with his contact.”
“He’ll be there,” Gus nods, looking at the men around the room. “We have a big day ahead of us men, let’s get some sleep. Apple, you take first watch.”
“Yes, boss,” he nods, going up the stairs.
“Come on, love,” Gus moves you to stand and drags you over to his bunk. The others quietly moving around the room and cleaning up from dinner. He tucks you into his bunk before placing a quick kiss to your lips, “I’m not tired, I’m going to sit up with Apple. I’ll be back later.”
“Okay,” you tug him down for another kiss, “don’t stay up to late.”
“I haven’t married you yet and you’re already nagging me,” he teases pressing another kiss to your lips, “I promise I’ll be back soon.”
You watch his back retreat up the stairs, closing your eyes and snuggling down into his sheets. Suddenly your eyes pop open and you gasp, he said yet.
#the ministry of ungentlemanly warfare#Gus March Phillips x reader#gus march phillips#Female Reader#Autumn Writes#Henry Cavill#Henry Cavill character fanfiction
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How does reader feel abt megumi constantly attempting to summon mahoraga and risking his life in almost every battle? Or how do you feel abt it even?
(omg no one’s ever asked my opinion on them. this is crazy. well, personally, i would also pull out mahoraga during every battle so i really can’t blame him. sometimes you’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do. i do think he’s going too far sometimes (ahem, todo) but that’s a different conversation)
reader, on the other hand, will not be putting up with it for a minute.
i think that if megumi were to be raised under her care, she would make it a point to be intentional with how she and satoru teach him about power, and about taking care of himself.
so under her guidance, i doubt he would be so willing to sacrifice it all.
specifically because when he was first moving into jujutsu high, she took him by the cheeks and give him a hard stare.
“if you do anything to hurt my little boy,” she’d said to him, “i’ll kill you myself.”
megumi had to refrain from rolling his eyes. though his lip twitched and he nodded immediately, mumbling a “yes, ma’am.”
and then he kissed her cheek so she’d let him go.
with readers heavy input, satoru is having the talk with megumi about how powerful he is, and how he doesn’t have to give anything up just to win way sooner. like… nine, ten years old.
and of course, if either of them do anything stupid, reader is sitting them down on the couch and pointing a finger between them.
“dying is not a trump card, you hear me?” she’d ask, kicking satoru’s feet. “if you die, you lose—i don’t care who else goes with you. and so help me if i hear anything about—“
“she’s so dramatic, right?” satoru will (not) whisper conspiratorially.
and for once megumi nods along with him.
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But it’s better if you do
Summary: Being Jennifer checks human girl friend and being best friends with needy, instead of Jennifer finding needy when she freshly turns she finds you. You struggle to find the right time to confess your love for the demon girl, when People of devils kettle go missing you can’t bring yourself to care when the succubus’s lips are on yours.
Warnings: reader doesn’t really care about anyone but Jennifer, homoerotic gay friendships are my fav, Jennifer killing and eating boys normal succubus things, arson, a complicated relationship with Jennifer where she kisses reader w/o consent, stalking, breaking and entering, probably more but I’m not sure!
A/n: I love Jennifer check so much I’m only like 80% proud of this fic but man Jennifer is so hot & what else could I do aside from using a patd song!
✧༺༻∞
Melody lane, a shitty little jukebox club in the middle of devils kettle usually filled with drunk old men, crusty teenagers, and Jennifer’s flings.
But occasionally they had a half decent band playing. And okay alcohol when Jennifer actually managed to convince the bartender. the only way you’d ever hear any of them was when Jennifer managed to drag yourself and needy along with her to the club to watch as she seduced either a new fling, or an old one.
You never minded Jennifer dragging you to places, you liked the company, I fact youd jump when the girl invited you to one of hers and needys sleepovers, it was usually filled with sinful thoughts, movies you’d rented, and shroud gossip about your drab peers. To you Jennifer and needys were the most interesting people in devils kettle.
But there was something especially, special about Jennifer. from her sensual smile, to the way she’d bite her lip when you were near, the the taste of her lip gloss, and the nights her lips were on yours. You’d deal with the disappointment of going back to friends the next morning as long as you got to feel the girls cold hands on your body.
she was addictive. so addictive, you’d stay in a constant loop of the girls lips on yours as you shared a bed with each other, her touch delicate and light over the skin of your chest. It was the only time her words were ever gentle and not piercing alone with you was the only time she’d let her guard down.
But you loved her in public too, when she was mean and cold. you didn’t mind when she was mean to you, infact you liked her meanness, her spirit, her beauty, her love for fun, her piping hot gossip. You liked Jennifer not just for her banging body but for her soul.
The way her hands would rest on top of yours underneath the table in geography, the way her perfect nails would scratch against your back on your sleepovers.
You loved Jennifer, like you loved breathing.
the night melody lane burned down and the freaks from that band wanted a virgin and some how hypnotised Jennifer to join them in their creepy van needy had to hold you back from chasing after the girl, but from the sound of people’s bones breaking and the smell of their skin burning off when you three were briefly trapped in the club it left you in the wrong headspace. It left you unable to think straight.
the only thing repeating in your head over and over, “where’s jen? Why did I let her go with them? I should have done more.” Over and over again
But from the burning bodies, needys quiet sobs, and watching as your best friend get in a van with freaks all you wanted to do was go home, sit on your bed, and cry. Your ride home in Jennifer’s sea-bring left you itchy and uncomfortable. it felt wrong to sit in Jennifer’s car without her. But still you sat there with the aircon blasting because you couldn’t handle the heat You still felt the residual burn from the fire.
It felt wrong to be safe in a car with needy When Jennifer was probably suffering in the hands of emo guys from a shitty band out of state that decided to lay their seedy sights on devils kettle and take your best friend from you. It felt like one big cruel joke.
“Are you gonna be okay without me?” Needy asked resting her hands on the steering wheel pushing her glasses up against her face. Snapping you out of your thoughts
“Yeah yeah… I’ll be okay will you?” You asked your arms tightly wrapped around yourself the chill of the night air against your uncovered arms was welcomed.
The nerdy girl observed your face, not quite believing you’d be okay by the far off look in your eyes she wasn’t even sure she knew where you were. She was wrong. you knew exactly where you were but your head was out of it. Part of you still left with Jennifer in the van Still fighting needys grip still being held back in needys hold as you watched the girl you love be carted away with strange men.
“Yeah I’ve got chip.” Needy smiled awkwardly your voices quiet in the silence the small car light basking you two in warm orange. Watching eachother in awkward in silence, you were just grateful for your lives. And you’d talk about the effects of this eventually, but not tonight.
“Drive safe needy.” You smiled hand squeezing her shoulder tightly before unbuckling and getting out of the car. The walk to your door had been quick the buzzing silence and the illumination from the street lights left an eerie feeling to chill your bones. Or maybe it was the chill of the night air cooling your burning skin.
slotting your key into the hole and sliding the door open you’re met with your home drenched in darkness. The usual warmth and safety of your house felt unnerving.
The warm yellow lights from your ceiling and the sounds of the tv that sounded like childhood was gone only filled with aching silence. It was like even your home reflected your mood.
The only light was what came from your porch and needys headlights as she left down your street.
you wandered to the kitchen in the dead of night, the familiar creak of the floorboards and the buzz of your fridge calmed your racing thoughts, the only light source from the beeping green timer on the oven that stayed on no matter what you did. This was good.
This meant you were safe. You were home.
As you Pulled out a glass cup and filling it up with sink water, resting against the counter you downed your glass quickly the smooth liquid cooled the dryness in the back of your throat, the smoke from the fire coated your throat and making swallowing difficult.
You felt so sick, climbing the stairs to your bedroom and collapsing on your bed you flick your dated lamp on the warm light illuminating your room you finally let the tension from your body the sound of a creak made you crack your eyes open straining your ears to hear anything else after a few minutes of silence
it was probably nothing climbing under the plush comfy blankets of your bed you felt like a little kid again. safe under the blankets tucked in where nothing could touch you.
Despite your blanket force field you didn’t dare turn off the lights. You keep them on and let them light the room.
You were always terrified of the dark. The only darkness you liked was the back of your eyelids
So you shut your eyes tightly and tried to ignore the horrible stench of smoke littering your clothes and staining your sheets. It would be your mother’s problem in the morning.
✧༺༻∞
When you cracked your eyes open again you were met with the sight of your light turned off and your room shrouded in darkness, Odd.
The world outside your window was also silent no crickets, no cars, just nothing.
Sitting up on your bed your blanket clutched to your chest you strained your eyes to look through the darkness, to adjust to the dimly lit room as you blindly reached your hand for the lamp switch turning it on despite the click you’re only met with darkness.
So you tried again,
Click
Still darkness?
“Fuck sake” you muttered the age of the lamp clearly took its toll and of course it chose today of all days to die.
Pulling the cord to you you’re met with a jagged edge, not the plug pulled out from the Power Point under your bed. But a cord that’s been cut the edges fraying dangerously.
Panic swirls in your chest any semblance of tiredness in you disipates as you observe your room, straining your eyes demanding them to focus. Your heart racing you can’t help but imagine a horrid monster under your bed that’s going to grab your ankle the moment you hop down.
Letting out a quiet whimper at the thought you push yourself against the headboard you’re met with two options: brave getting off the bed, and making a run for the light switch Or…Jumping out the window from the second floor, and splat on the veranda. no.
You’ve got one option,
You’d have to brave the darkness.
Taking a shaky breath you push yourself from the safety of your bed you become alarmingly aware of every step, every sound, every creak. You can hear your breaths in the silent room but something in the back of your mind swears you heard the breathing of something that wasn’t you.
you wonder if you’re being pranked, “ok needy, chip. Not funny!” You call shakily into the darkness.
but when a hand grips your foot and tugs you hard to the floor, you slam painfully against the wood Groaning at the impact it only takes you a minute before your mind is clear again.
And you realise there’s some monster under the bed that tugged you to the floor. And their hands still holding your foot. you scream and tug your leg from their hold with force but still your eyes don’t adjust to the darkness and your scrambling to get back up but the monster doesn’t let you tugging you again to the floor. their hand grips your upper calf leaving a wet, sticky hand print.
What the fuck.
You feel their body crawl over you their cold hand trails your body with force but
Before you can scream again hand is covering your mouth tears well in your eyes at the feeling all the worst scenarios come to mind as you lay there frozen in fear, tears well in your eyes spilling down your cheeks.
“P-please” you whimper in its hold and the monster laughs. It laughs. Or what you think is a laugh it sounds like a horrible gurgle but it must be amused by the way the pressure holding you down lets up only slightly.
Just as quick as the laugh came it’s gone replaced with silence and a monster straddling your hips it feels human.
And in away that makes it worse. When the monsters hands trail your body from your hips to your chest where they settle over the little silver bff locket Jennifer gave you, it brings its wet slimy lips to your cheeks and its tongue slips from its mouth and you come to realise it’s licking your tears from your cheeks. It’s hold lightens immensely as it places a light kiss over your lips and you cry harder unable to see what this thing is, before its pulling back and it’s stopped straddling your waist instead it sits with its hands on the floor and its knees to it’s shoulders.
In the dim moonlight you catch a glimpse of black hair, and a sickly smile
“Are you afraid of me?” It asks with a voice like Jennifer’s and you swallow the bile in your throat
“Yes.” You hoarsely whimper, you’re left with a horrible realisation the lips that just kissed you feel the same as when Jennifer does. Before you can confront this thing masquerading as Jennifer it replies.
“good” just when you think you’re safe the creature skitters back to toward you, you finally see what this creature is, the light a passing car that shines into your window gives you enough time to see the creature and you’re right.
it’s Jennifer, just Jennifer she doesn’t look like some permanently deformed monster she still looks beautiful despite Her face covered in mascara streaks and an inky black substance that littered her pale skin and what looks to be blood on her shirt jennifer smiles and she crawls towards you her hands trailing your chest to her necklace. And she leans near you her lips hovering over the shell of your ear and she places a kiss And it doesn’t feel like it did when you and Jennifer sleepover, or the way she leans towards you to whisper something in your ear at school this is intimate.
But this leaves you questioning If she was Jen why did she go so far to tug you to the floor? Why Did she hold you down? Why did cut your lamp? You had so many questions and by the way the girl observed you it unnerved you, it made it abundantly clear you weren’t getting any answers tonight but still you couldn’t help yourself.
“Jennifer?”you say through tears finally sitting up “Jen…what happened?” You ask tearfully she’s crouching on the balls of her feet her her arms holding her ankles and it’s impulsive but you can’t stop yourself you reach out to touch her cold cheek with a shaky hand.
“Why were you under my bed? What are you covered in?”Your hands still hold the girls face before venturing to her shoulders and you pull her to stand up with you and to your surprise she does it. she watches you with a familiar glint in her eyes and you can see she wasn’t some bogey man. Just Jennifer. covered in what you assume is blood, and an odd black substance, but she was still Jennifer.
“What did they do to you?” You whisper before you can stop yourself, tell yourself that is was just shock. Like shock did this kind of thing to people. You couldn’t trick yourself with lies something happened.
It would do no good to question the girl about it just yet, so you Lead her to your kitchen you filled up a glass of water for the girl and watched as she downed the entire thing before going through your fridge, tugging through all of your food, finding nothing of value.
She turned back to you and she watched you hungrily like she wanted to consume your soul like you were prey and she was predator, like a lion and an antelope on a nature documentary. It made your skin prickle.
“Jennifer? What’s going on?” You pleaded your eyes watching her every move, Jennifer stalks up to you with speed that makes you back track into the counter, and her body entraps you against the counter and her lips ghost yours before she pulls away and you fight the urge to chase her lips you watch as she dashes out the back door, the slam of a screen is the only thing that even told you you were not crazy That and the black goop drying to your body.
✧༺༻∞
The next morning you arrive late to school having missed first period, staying awake into the long hours of the morning too afraid to sleep. from the fire, to your odd encounter with Jennifer it left you shaking, sitting for hours in an extra hot shower trying to pull yourself together although the heat seemed to make your skin prickle and the fire in melody lane burn brighter in your mind. You needing to feel clean, you needed to shower off the grime, and the incident with Jennifer.
Maybe it was The mild case of smoke inhalation in your lungs that made you hallucinate last night but the black goo on your body made you question that theory.
when you finally arrived to your first class of the day you sat beside needy and the girl looked as traumatised as you felt and you don’t have to ask to know she’s had a night similar to yours.
“Hey” you greet and the girl greets a quiet “hi y/n” back but you don’t pay much mind not when you’re teacher begins to talk about the fire and the people who died who went to school with you.
At the mere mention of melody lane needy and yourself share a look with eachother a sense of guilt and dread that you three survived. It wasn’t dread over the fact you survived, you all were happy to be alive but you felt somewhat responsible for the fire despite not even setting it.
Why did three girls who are the most unlikely group of friends survive? Why not everyone else? Were they not equally important? What if one of them were going to cure cancer. Why did you live you weren’t going to cure cancer.
When the door to the classroom swing open and Jennifer walks in looking as perfect as ever, you can’t help but think the girl looks absolutely stunning (like always) your cheeks prickling with the feeling of her hand caressing them last night and you fight the urge to chase the imaginary feeling. Making sure you don’t raise your hand to your cheek over the feeling.
Instead you shake your shoulders like it’ll put your back in the present. It works. But you can’t shake the feeling of your hairs that stand up on the back of your neck as Jen pulls up a seat beside you and her warmth heats your side and her addictive perfume wafts around you, and you can tell she’s watching you with the same look as she always does. A sensual look thats different than the looks she gives her flings, it’s a look that makes you feel like you can’t breathe.
She slathers lip gloss over her plush pink lips as needy attempts to talk sense into Jennifer, you didn’t even realise she was talking. Only catching the final bit of her conversation
“Anyone we know?” You hear Jennifer ask like she doesn’t really care, but there’s a twinge of annoyance in her voice.
“We know everyone…” needy says her eyes watching Jennifer like she’s foreign. And you watch the desk like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.
You don’t pay much attention when Jennifer talks about how amazing she feels and how she doesn’t care about the fire. It shocks you truthfully because told but you don’t have the energy to pay attention to anything but the guilt when Craig’s friend, Jonas, starts crying in the middle of class.
You look down at your lap playing with your fingers as Jennifer talks to both yourself and needy you catch sight of needys hands. her nail beds caked with the same inky black substance that assaulted your body and for the first time since Jennifer walked in you look her in her eyes with a sort of horrified intrigue, it wasnt a dream that you conjured up in your fucked up mind. when your eyes flicker to needy something passes between you both. A shared Understanding.
✧༺༻∞
You spent the first day back at school in a weird headspace like your drifting through the hall’s hollow. Like your energy’s stagnant, like a ghost. It’s like you died in that fire.
It’s like you’re not actually here anymore you walk the halls seeing but not observing. Clutching your book to your chest as you walked the halls with needy the sounds of sobbing filled the halls, friends embracing friends it made the scene even more intense.
You were counting every minute down until the end of the day until you could go home watch some tv and stare into space, you stood beside needy looking through your locker as needy told chip about what she witnessed with Jennifer. You couldn’t help but pay attention to her story despite your hands searching for your school book.
“It was like evil…” needy shook her head unable to come up with words to describe it, chip watched the girl with something akin to awkward concern? Although chip was always awkward.
“I think you need to see the school shrink. I love you needy but that’s a little…crazy?” Chip shrugged defiantly before placing a kiss to needys cheek and walking to class.
“Well, I believe you needy. Something happened to me too last night she cut the cord to my lamp and she was under my bed…she pulled me to the floor- Somethings wrong.” Your voice shakes as you lowered it to a whisper confiding in needy with a nod of the blond girls head
“We need more information” needy spoke pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose
✧༺༻∞
When needy called you that night that Jonas had apparently been murdered and eaten it felt like time stilled, What curse was plaguing devils kettle stealing away its people it was odd. It was like melody lane was the one thing that caused a chain of events.
It was no time before news broke again there was another murder.
then another,
then finally Colin gray died after Jennifer agreed to go out with him.
Each murder had the same mo, a cannibal killing. murdering only boys. it was poetic As it was confusing, now you didn’t particularly care for any of these boys why would you? Who needed boys when you had Jennifer and needy? but you would admit to be eaten alive, left in a half finished houses, nothing but carnage with their pants down, rosary clutched in their bloody hands. It was pretty disgusting.
You empathised for these guys but truthfully you didn’t care, not one bit. The only people you cared for was needy and Jennifer and Jennifer had been glowing recently despite the murders, the girl waltzed around not a care in the world, she was living her best life. until she wasn’t.
Then there’d be another murder.
and then Jennifer would look beautiful again (not like she ever stopped but she’d look inhumanly beautiful.) And then shortly after she’d find another boy to toy with at school and in her fling with that boy she’d spend her nights in your bed, her soft fingers playing with your hair as you rested on her knees listening to the latest fall out boy cd And her strawberry lipgloss would leave a sheen on your lips that you’d be tasting for hours after.
And a scent on your tshirts that had you sniffing them for weeks, Then she’d disappear from your hold again. for weeks, she’d leave the sheets cold and her absence ever growing.
And you lay in your bed re-listening to fall out boy, and smelling her perfume on your tshirt to quench the Jennifer shaped hole in your life.
And she’d stop glowing, and she’d look tired, at school hair lifeless compared to its previous glowy form only a week ago.
And it began to make you wonder if maybe it was something more than just pms. It solidified your theory that something darker happened to Jennifer the day melody lane burned to the ground.
Maybe it changed Jennifer so much it made Jennifer kill these boys, you didn’t forget that night at your house where she looked inhuman. where she tugged you to the floor and her lips pressed against yours with force. like she’d have you right then and there like you’d be her last meal.
You had to confront her, Something was wrong with Jennifer check.
✧༺༻∞
It was a normal school day, nothing particularly special happened the morning your house empty by the time you woke up, the heater of your car blowing the same warm air against your cheeks as it always did, then you’d be at school the lively chatter of your fellow students excitement over the upcoming school dance was the only thing buzzing through the hallways
The various murders had become old news, by the time Colin grey died it was no longer of interest to be focused on the maneater “tormenting” devils kettle.
Just as quickly as the chatter came it left, and in its wake left nothing but a trail of murders behind and the horribly popular song released by low shoulder that seemingly took everyone in devils kettle by storm.
You couldn’t give a shit about the murders, these guys never cared about anyone but themselves, plus who needed boys they were useless anyway.
You’re infatuation with Jennifer grew but By this point in time you began to decipher by the help of needy, that Jennifer was a succubus. The blonde had been horrified to learn her friend had been killing these boys. That Jennifer virtually died the night the band shut the van door. Leaving Jennifer trapped with them.
The realisation that you indirectly killed the girl made you want to throw up, you’d never dream of harming the girl so learning you kinda sealed her fate left you wallowing.
The school library was chilly its plastic blue chairs and sad grey carpet left you rolling your eyes. The plain white desks and rows and rows of books left you and needy hidden from prying eyes
Shutting the occult book needy and your self discovered in the library both your hands shook with the realisation your friend was infact a demon, both needy and yourself shared a mildly horrified look and in no time the both of you departed the library the blonde to chip. And you to Jennifer.
✧༺༻∞
Rushing through the halls of devils kettle highschool you didn’t care to observe the faces of your peers opting to instead hurry through the halls to the change rooms Jennifer would have been only now finishing getting changed back from her flag girl practice and she’d always stay later for a long shower, so the room would be pretty much deserted. Perfect.
Flinging open the door to the change rooms you’re met with Jennifer tying her shoes on a small wooden bench the black haired girl lifts her head as you enter the room her usual bored expression plastered on her face her lips perfectly glossy and her eyes watched you with a sense of unnerving pleasure.
Like she enjoyed reading you to see when you’d figure her out.
“I know what you are” you tried to hide the shake in your voice when you spoke closing the change room door and stepping towards her. cringing inwardly at how blunt you seemed you refused to let the facade of fearlessness die so easily so you watched as Jennifer’s perfect lips tipped upward as the revelation
“Do you?” She dragged tucking hair behind her ear and standing up to stalk towards you bumped into the door as you stepped back you stopped the shuddering breath from leaving you when you felt her body creep in front of you her wicked eyes watched you.
“You’re a succubus. You’re the one killing the boys.”
“Boys are just placeholders, they come and they go.” The girl sneered her glossed lips bright as she watched you.
Steeling yourself beneath her gaze you took a breath filling your lungs with humid changeroom air;
“do you deny it?”
Your voice was strong as you stood your eyes boring into eachother you knew your icy tongue wouldnt do the girl any real harm, she’d had her fill she was immortal. Regenerative.
When you were met with silence Jennifer’s cold gaze calculating whether she should confess or kill you now. But the brave look in your eyes and the familiar feeling of your lips on hers she’d grown far too fond of you.
“Do. you. deny. it.” There was no doubt in you, now you were sure, Jennifer was a succubus you just needed her to confess to ensure you were not insane. Staring the girl in the eyes you hardened your gaze and you waited on baited breath for which of you would crack first.
This time,
it was Jennifer.
breaking eye contact she turned her gaze to the ground sighing. “Yes I’m a succubus god.” The girl groaned bored
“how did it happen?” You felt the flood gates open it had been involuntary for your concern to slip out through your cold facade
“The band freaks like totally sacrificed me, when I got into their creepy van it was like the fog on my mind cleared and I realised the trouble I was in, they took me to the falls and I tried to run but they caught me and…” the girl dragged the last bit out before plopping herself down on the bench sitting crisscrossed you sat next to the girl you felt tears well in your eyes.
Jennifer was murdered by the band freaks, and you didn’t try harder to stop her from entering that van, She died because of you.
You felt a lump rise in your throat, “they sacrificed you” you nodded and it felt like you were going to implode looking at your best friend and imagining her bloodied corpse all alone at the falls.
“Mhm, When they caught me they gagged me, and then sacrificed me to Satan- how fucking lame is that!” Jennifer rolled her eyes yet there was a hint of pain shining in her eyes maybe Jen wasn’t completely gone.
“And well after everything happened I managed to find my way to you… I was so hungry but I couldn’t bring myself to kill you, I like you too much.” Despite her bored tone her fingers fiddled in her lap she was nervous to confess this.
“Jennifer” your eyes shone as you watched the girl this was the closest you’d get to Jennifer telling you she loved you, atleast right now. But you understood what the raven haired girl was telling you, and it was like everything she’s done up to this point didn’t matter to you.
“Jen. I don’t care that you have to kill and eat boys, i don’t care that you’re like a demon now? I don’t care about any of it.” You shook your hands as you spoke with volition any confliction you held washed away.
“Jennifer I have loved you since we were kids. you were always my girl. Fuck those guys! The boys you’ve eaten, the band freaks, every pathetic morsel in devils kettle! fuck all of them! I want you, Demon and all.” You exclaimed your warm hands enclosing her cold ones your eyes booring into hers, the shiny sheen of lipgloss on her pink lips made you want to kiss her
It had been months since the fire, months since the girl had caressed your body like she was starving. Like your soft skin bled life itself into her undead heart.
You couldn’t wait any longer, you only had now.
“Can I kiss you?” Your hands hovered over the girls cool cheeks as you asked in a whisper, Jennifer didn’t respond instead the girl shot forward catching your lips into a kiss her lipgloss sticking to your lips as Jennifer had her way with you the girl certainly was a great kisser finally snapping out of your stupor, you kissed her back feverishly.
Both lips fitting together like pieces to a puzzle you hope to never pull back from her lips again. You’d put all of your fears behind you even if it was just for now.
#jennifers body#jennifer check#jennifers body x reader#jennifer check x reader#Jennifer’s body fanfiction#Jennifer check x fem reader#needy lesnicki x reader#needy lesnicki#Jennifer’s body x you#Jennifer check x you
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Across a Crowded Room (GN!Reader x M!Goblin)
Pairing: Flirty!GN!Reader x Male!Knight!Goblin
Genre: High Fantasy, Flirting, Sexual Tension
Word Count: 2576 words
Summary: You had entered the tavern with innocent intentions; to dance, to drink, and maybe take someone home, if they were interesting enough. But a certain goblin knight catches your eye, and you’re just dying to see him blush.
Request: Can I ask for your goblin knight x flirty reader? I want to see my boy blushing
If you want to read more about the goblin knight, check out here (SFW Headcanons) and here! (NSFW Headcanons)
No one throws better parties than knights, especially knights just fresh from a victory.
The clamering group came into your town just this afternoon, blood-soaked and smiling, shouting about free rounds at the local tavern. For a boring town just a couple miles from a well protected capital city, it was the most exciting thing to happen in months. Naturally, anyone and everyone who loves some good fun and alcohol was quick to congregate.
Including yourself.
The tavern is packed, sweaty bodies and beer all clashing together as people dance and drink, the band playing to rapturous applause and intoxicated cheers. Soldiers have stripped most of their armor, surrounded by groups of desperate hangers-ons, here for the fascinating tales or to catch the eye of a handsome knight.
You’re more interested in the free alcohol and the music, but you can’t deny that these soldiers are good-looking. Would it be bad to have those calloused hands pushing up your shirt, salty lips sucking on your neck, all pent up and ravenous from weeks on the road?
Damn, maybe you’ve had enough to drink.
You drop off your half-empty ale and pick up a fresh cup of water instead, thankful for the magical ice chest the tavern owner had just purchased/stolen off a drunken wizard. Your cheeks are still hot, but any dizzying fog fades quickly from your mind. Your eyes wander around the dance floor, wondering if anyones sober enough to be a good dance partner, or if it’s time to call it a night. Everyone seems to be partnered up already, and you think you’ll be walking home alone in the dark, when-
Bingo.
There in a corner booth, surprisingly free of drunken party-goers, sits a goblin knight in gleaming armor. His bulkier pauldrons have been removed, but his chest plate remains shiny and in place. He sips on something bubbly, something light and clearly not the hearty ale everyone else is indulging in. Yellow eyes survey the dance floor with a clear mind, a reserved smile on his face.
Welp, guess I can stay another hour or so.
You slink between dancing and flailing bodies, trying not to seem too eager as you make your way to the lonely knight’s table. He only glances up once you sit down in his booth, giving you a polite smile, probably thinking you just need to rest your feet.
Now that you’re up close you can see just how handsome he is. With that sharp jaw and slicked back hair, you’re surprised he isn’t fighting off propositioners with a stick.
“Hey there.”
“Hello.” The goblin gives you a nod, taking another sip of his prosecco. His eyes go back to the dance floor, still calm and casual. You slide across the booth seat, closer yet not to close, still trying to gauge interest.
“Not much of a dancer?”
The knight seems a little shocked you’re still talking to him, stopped half-way through another sip. He sets it down.
“I enjoy it, though I have less experience in this sort of dancing.” He waves his hand generally to the crowd, which are less dancing and more bouncing. The tavern is too crowded for any proper dances, so most people divulged into a mixture of shimmying and skirt tossing, often grinding someone to slide up next to and go back and forth. “Plus, my men are having a lot of fun already, it seems someone should stay behind and be responsible.”
“You’re the captain?” You slide another inch over. “That’s a hefty title, lots of hard work, sounds like you deserve most to let loose and relax a little.” You’re even more shocked now that he’s all by his lonesome; the captain is the one with most of the glory and prestige, someone you’d be proud to be on the arm of, even for just a night. The knight just laughs, gesturing to his drink.
“I appreciate it, but the wine has proven to be good company. Besides, I was never one to find getting into a drunken stupor to be very relaxing. A little too much vomit for my taste.” The knight runs a clawed hair through his slicked back hair, tucking back any loose strands. It shows off the strong muscles of his neck, just hidden behind his armor. You take an intake of breath.
“I see, I see. Are they any other ways you like to relax?” You finally close the gap between, the fabric of your pants legs touching his own, and throw your arm over the back of the booth. His tail twitches and his eyes glance down to your chest, clavicle exposed by your loose tunic. But this knight is a gentleman, and is quick to meet your eyes.
“I garden. Nothing too exciting, just some vegetables.”
“Really?” The curiosity in your voice is genuine, not the kind you force to keep the conversation alive. “I do too, mostly windowsill flowers, and the occasional herb and succulent. Though those tend to die on me, though. I’m not as familiar with desert plants.”
The knight's brow furrows thoughtfully, a thumb to his chin.
“How often do you water the succulents?”
“Uhm, maybe every 3 days.”
“Ah, that’s the issue.” The knight has locked in, turning his chest toward you. You become aware of how close your hand is to his leg, or his shoulder to your shoulder. “Succulents are small, but hardy. They only need water every week or so, some even less.”
“Oh, I never realized. I must have been drowning the poor things!”
“It's a common mistake, I made it myself the first time. Now they’re one of my favorites. Small but mighty.”
Much like yourself, Mr. Captain.
The stirring in your stomach is familiar, your heartbeat just a little bit faster. Handsome, polite, and knowledgeable without being condescending. Where has this goblin been hiding?
Well if no ones gonna snatch him up…I better do it myself.
“I’m so sorry, I forgot to ask your name. How rude of me.” You scoot on more, fully breaking the normal boundaries. You hold out your hand. “I’m ____.”
The knight looks at your hand, then looks at you. You think you catch a hint of a blush at the tips of his ears, right before he grabs your hand and presses a kiss onto your knuckles.
“Leon, my dear. A pleasure to meet you.”
His smile is infectious, one curling up at your lips.
Oh, I see.
“Should I call you captain? Seems only right with such an honorable position.” Your hand rests on his armored knee. There's two solid layers between you, but you can still feel him twitch at the touch.
“No need, I get enough of that from my men. Just Leon.”
“Ok, just Leon. Gardening’s a yes, dancing’s a no, what other things do you do for fun?”
“Training, mostly. Not very exciting, but I personally enjoy the rigor and discipline of my work.”
“I disagree, good sir. I’ve seen knights train before, it is far from boring. In fact, me and my siblings used to make trips to the capital just to see them spar.” You chuckle, the old memory of betting on the good-looking knights resurfacing. Your teenage years were voracious. “Seeing them move so gracefully, so powerfully, with all that heavy armor and weaponry. It was enthralling. And if I’m being honest….” The hand on Leon’s knee moves upwards. Leon’s throat bobs, “...very attractive.” Your hand changes its course and moves to the outside of his thigh, tracing the empty sheath still tied to his waist. Leon exhales heavily out of his nose, his tail flicking by his side. “What weapon do you prefer most, captain?”
“Ah, my rapier.” Leon's voice only catches a bit, well-practiced dn maintaining his composure. If only that cute blush didn’t give him away. “Light, quick, and efficient. I am also proficient in a short sword, but I always find myself going back to the rapier.”
“Hmm good to know, I’m sure to become Captain you must have studied quite rigorously. I would love to see you spar one day, Leon.”
A tint of pride curls up the side of Leon’s lips into a smirk, his shoulders raising. He had been so bashful, but it seemed this was a skill he was comfortable bragging about.
“Well…” Leon looks at his men, all still drunk but most of them having found a suitable partner, a place to sit, or a bucket to throw up in. “I could show you right now.”
You sure your eyes are sparkling, your voice almost a squeal.
“Yes please.”
—
And that’s how you find yourself outside, away from the warm fire and flowing alcohol, goosebumps all over as you watch Leon demonstrate. He had procured his rapier from the tavern keeper, who had shown you a nice area outside with the proper amount of room. It was hard to say no to the Captain, after all.
“First you bow to your opponent. Respect is paramount to a proper duel.” Leon zips his feet together, bowing at a perfect angle, hand not even on hilt. “When it’s called, you may draw your weapon and ready yourself.” The gleaming metal shings as it’s pulled out from Leon’s sheath, his forearm muscle flexing with the smooth movement. He holds the weapon out and forward with only one hand, stepping his non-dominant foot backward. Yet Leon keeps his weight centered, his front toe ready to jab at any moment. “This is my preferred stance, as it allows me to be quick and fluid. Once the the match has started, I can make my first strike.” Leon is just as quick as one would expect, shoulder bursting forward to throw the sharp end of the rapier into his imaginary opponent's chest. “If I am blocked, I can easily move back and adjust.” He bounces on the balls of his feet as he scoots back. “I survey their next move, and then I may strike again-” Leon jabs forward, “-or parry a blow-'' Leon swipes his rapier diagonally, the force blowing a breeze across your face, “-or even block, and strike again.” Leon turns his blade, muscles holding steady as if real weight was applied, before he easily swipes his blade again. “If I hit, that is the end of the duel. As in real life, it only take one blow to slay you.” Leon flicks his blade in his hand, adjusting it to slide back into his sheath just as smoothly as before. He turns and gives a gracious bow, waving his hand to his single person audience.
You clap furiously, cheeks flushed from both the cold and your excitement. Seeing a person of such skill perform was always a thrill.
And very, very sexy.
You stand up from your seat, mimicking the excited whoops of a crowd. Leon plays into it, putting his hand on his chest in a faux-sense of embarrassment.
“And of course, always check on your opponent, and give a good handshake.”
Leon shakes his imagined fighter's hands, even mouthing words of “good fight, good fight.”
A strand of Leon's hair has come loose from his slicked-back style, hanging down in a curl against hsu forward. His cheeks are also flushed and his gloved hand goes to rub the back of his neck. You watch the bones crack as he stretches, the muscles flexing.
Oh my gods, thank you for this sight.
“So, how about we-”
You’re rudely interrupted by a stool being thrown out a window, a mixture of excited gasps and the angry yells of a barkeep about paying for that echoing across the lot. Leon is next to you in a moment, grabbing your wrist and pulling you close. He only comes up to your waist, yet you’ve never felt more shielded.
“ALRIGHT, EVERYBODY OUT, NOW!”
Drunken patrons and knights spill out of the front, you and Leon forgotten out in the back area. No one seems harmed, mostly embarrassed and/or delirious. Probably a prank gone wrong.
“Seems that ale was much stronger than it tasted.” You murmur.
“Quite. So was whoever threw that stool.”
You guffaw, shocked once again by this Captain’s sense of humor.
“Well, if the tavern is closed, let me walk you back to your abode. I hadn’t realized how late it had gotten.” Leon looks up aht stars, the moon high in the night sky.
“Uh, wouldn’t you like to check on your men?”
“They’re big boys, they can handle themselves. I would much prefer making sure you get home safe.”
Leon holds out his elbow for you to take. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you eagerly take it.
—
“I must thank you for your time tonight.” Leon pants, pushing back strands of loose hair behind his ears. “I was quite ready to spend the night with only my drink, left with my thoughts in that corner booth. But it has been a delight speaking with you. ”
“It was my pleasure, Captain. It’s easy to make fun when with such interesting company.” You nudge his shoulder with your hip, giving him another wink.
Leon chuckles, a tinge of dark green colors at the tips of Leon’s ears.
“I could say the same.”
There’s a lingering something in the air as you two walk side by side, the brisk night air against your sweaty skin. Your eyes can’t help but wander over his exposed shoulder and neck, see the way his tail flicks back and forth in a slow pattern. The space between your paths slowly close, your clothes and his armor only breathes apart by the time you reach your doorway
“So,” Your hand brushes across Leon’s shoulder, goosebumps pebbling the back of his neck, “...would you like to come in?” You gesture with your head, a wry smirk curling up your lips.
For once, the captain seems lost for words, something almost caught in his throat. His gaze dances across your exposed shoulders, shooting hack up in an instant. Your index finger tucks another stray hair behind his ear, an almost imperceptible shiver running down his spine. You can hear your blood pumping in your ears.
A gentle, gloved hand daintily grabs your wrist, pulling it away from his shoulder with a polite smile. Your stomach sinks a bit, but you try not to let it show.
“Best if not.” Leon’s thumb rubs across your pulse before gently setting it down to your side. It’s a polite rejection, but you can't help feeling slightly embarrassed for reading him incorrectly, words knotting up in your stomach. So you nod, placing your hand into your pants pocket, hoping he doesn’t see it shake.
Idiot, Idiot, Idiot-
“Of course, Captain. Have a good night.”
You turn to your doorway, trying not to let the disappointment hit too hard.
“There’s a market tomorrow morning, in the grove. I’ve heard they’re supposed to have the most beautiful plants on display from all across the kingdom.” Leon worries the bottom of his tunic in his hands. “Would you like to join me?”
A childlike giddiness fills your stomach, how lighter than ever. You don’t hide your smile.
“I would love to.” You linger in your doorway, feet kicking as a blush heats up your cheeks. “Meet me here at 9?”
Leon’s canines gleam in the lamplight, his lips curling as he drops into the bow.
“It’d be my honor.”
#my writing#reader insert#monster x reader#monster romance#gender neutral reader#goblin#goblin x reader
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Sub!Chris Headcannons
-C.S
▐ Sub!Chris who: Lets you do anything to him. He never tells you to stop. He could be crying below you, begging for more.
▐ Sub!Chris who: Couldn’t care less about what others think of your relationship. He treats you like a princess, as much as he can. People claim he’s letting you walk all over him, but he gives zero fucks. He just wants his girl to be happy.
▐ Sub!Chris who: Loves pet names. He loves calling you pet names, and he loves it when you call him pet names, ‘sweet boy’ and ‘pretty boy’ being his favorites.
▐ Sub!Chris who: LOVES PDA. He loves everything to do with it. He loves it when you sit on his lap making out with him in a room full of people. Even when you’re giving him hickeys and he’s continuing into the conversation like nothing is happening. Like he’s not getting a boner.
▐ Sub!Chris who: Loves foreplay. He loves it when you rub him through his wet boxers as you leave marks all along his body.
▐ Sub!Chris who: Loves aftercare just as much as foreplay. He hates that you feel the need to clean him up since ‘you made him messy’, but he loves the cuddles and movies with you afterwards.
▐ Sub!Chris who: Loves dirty talk. “Go on, pretty boy. Make a mess all over the sheets like the dirty boy you are.” And he cums immediately.
▐ Sub!Chris who: Has both a degradation and praise kink. You know how to use them both perfectly. “C’mon handsome. Be a good boy and cum all over like the slut you are.” And he does.
▐ Sub!Chris who: Sends you whimper audios all the time. Even occasionally videos of him jerking his own cock to a picture of you.
▐ Sub!Chris who: is very vocal. He lets out the loudest moans and cries, no matter how many times you demand him to keep it down.
▐ Sub!Chris who: Trusts you with every fiber in his being. If you wanna try something new, its an immediate yes from him. You never gotta ask him twice.
▐ Sub!Chris who: Is so pussy whipped. He’s just whipped in general. When anyone brings up how pussy whipped he is, he never dares to deny it— he knows its true.
▐ Sub!Chris who: Loves it when you fuck him to music playing in the background. Any songs work, weather it be your playlist with Tyler, The Creator, Frank Ocean, and Steve Lacey, or his with Travis Scott, NLE Choppa, and Lil Skies. Anything works.
▐ Sub!Chris who: Calls you ‘mommy’ in front of literally everyone, knowing it’s a turn on for you- also knowing he’s going to get punished for it. “’m sorry, mommy. Can ya go grab me my pepsi, though, doll?” he’ll ask with a sweet tone, and a grin, knowing it will cause your thighs to clench and your face to turn red.
▐ Sub!Chris who: Is so needy all the time. It doesn’t matter if your at dinner with family or friends. He’ll tuck his face into the crook of your neck, whispering, “need you so bad,” while grabbing your hand, placing it on his growing boner, as he chokes back a whine in your ear.
▐ Sub!Chris who: Can’t control his own body. He’s already came countless times, his body jerking with every touch, his hips bucking as you demand him to stay still. “’m sorry, s-sweetheart. y-y’know i’m n-not tryin’ to,” he slurs.
▐ Sub!Chris who: Stays vocal all throughout sex, but the further you go in, the less coherent his sentences get, and by the time you’re done, you can’t understand a word the poor boy is saying.
▐ Sub!Chris who: Refuses to move after sex, until he gets his cuddles. “Chris, we’re already late.” You scold him, but he whines, gripping you tighter. “Pleaseeeee, only a few minutes,” He whines.
▐ Sub!Chris who: Gets so happy when he pleases you. “Did I do good this time, ma?” He asks shyly, and when you nod, a cheesy grin immediately gets plastered on the boys’ sweaty face.
▐ Sub!Chris who: Loves shower sex. He loves holding the shower-head perfectly so it hits your clit, as he shoves his fingers into you, as you tell him how good of a boy he is for you.
▐ Sub!Chris who: Loves watching you get yourself off, and cums at the sight of it. Your fingers pushing into your wetness as he’s tied up, withering in attempts to get loose to help you, but he fails, so he sits and watches, his hips bucking into nothing and his cock twitching, and the second you get yourself off, he lets loose too, hoping you wont notice.
『 ↳✧･ﾟ Finn yaps❕ ;
Since the sub!matt hcs did so well, i decided to do some sub!chris hcs too <3
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ I do NOT give permission for my work to be published on any other site, nor to be claimed as your own . However , reblogs , likes , and comments are much appreciated ! 🤍
ੈ✩‧₊˚ @bernardenjoyer @lovely-calypso @tillies33ssss @junnniiieee07 @75sturn @imwetforyourmom @slut4mattsturn @thenickgirl
#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#fanfic#christopher sturniolo#fluff#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#angst#sub matt sturniolo#sub chris sturniolo#sub sturniolo
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