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its-time-to-write · 8 months

Note

I saw you asked for requests a few days ago. I was wondering if you would consider doing another part of the Kent!reader x Jamie fics.

I was thinking they do end up pregnant and its them telling everyone they’re pregnant . I can see everyone being so excited for them. And then Roy is just freaking out.

Since they’ve already discussed wanting to be together forever and have kids I can also see them deciding to get married before the baby is born in a small ceremony like Beard had.

I have quite a few requests about Jamie x reader having a kid, so if that ain’t your jam, maybe don’t read my next few posts😂 It’s totally my jam tho, maybe bc I’m suffering from baby fever again. thanks for requesting and for your patience!!

let’s fall in love for the night

Jamie’s jiggling his leg up and down so fast that you’re surprised he hasn’t cramped yet.

“Calm down,” you hiss, hand on his knee.

“Can’t,” he whispers back. “Roy’s gonna fucking kill me.”

You have no sympathy for him. “Yeah, and whose fault is that? Yours.”

Jamie shoots you a sideways glance. “Excuse me, this was a team effort.”

“Whatever,” you say. “I still say it’s your fault.”

Molly swoops by to refill your water glasses. “Dinner’s ready in a few minutes. Roy and Phoebe have been working very hard,” she says.

She raises her eyebrows on the word very, and you’re sure that Roy’s patience is being pushed to his limits. He loves cooking and refuses to let anyone help him, but he also loves your niece and can’t deny her anything she wants.

“Better go check on them,” she says, leaving you and Jamie alone again in the backyard.

Jamie resumes the previous conversation and says, “Well, I wasn’t the one wearing that blue thing with the flowers.”

“Well obviously,” you shoot back, “it wouldn’t even fit you.”

Jamie’s stopped jiggling his leg and he places his hand on top of yours. “Oi. Has Roy ever actually killed anyone before, or does he just have serial killer eyebrows?”

You wrinkle your nose and ask, “Why the fuck would I know?”

“You’re his sister,” Jamie replies in Phoebe’s patented duh tone.

“I’m his baby sister,” you say. “I’m even younger than Molly. If he’s killed someone, they’ve both conspired to make sure I’ll never find out. And hey, don’t make fun of the eyebrows. There’s a good chance this baby’s gonna end up with them.”

“Babe you don’t have ‘em,” Jamie points out.

“I wax,” you say smugly. “Oh, Molly texted. Time to go inside.”

Jamie groans but lets you lead him to the table.

—

All told, Phoebe didn’t do half bad.

“Auntie, I did the potatoes all by myself,” she says.

You look to Roy for confirmation. He grunts and gives a tiny nod.

“Great job, Phoebs,” you say.

Molly sets down her fork. “I’ve been thinking of changing my name back to ‘Kent,’” she says.

“Brill,” says Jamie.

“Fucking finally,” Roy says as he hands Phoebe some money. “For future words,” he mouths to her as she counts it before depositing what you’re pretty sure is 20 quid into her pocket.

Molly says, “We’ll all be the Kents again,” and you can feel Jamie go stiff next to you.

“The fuck’s wrong with you?” Roy asks, and you turn to see Jamie’s gone completely pale.

You pinch his thigh and he jumps. “Nothing,” he says hurriedly. “Well, not nothing. But, I dunno, don’t want to overshadow Molls’s good news, ya know? It ain’t important.”

You pinch him again.

“Ok, it’s actually a little fucking important (sorry Phoebe, take it from Roy). But um, maybe you could help me babe?”

He shoots you a pleading look so you take pity on him. You’ve had more than twenty years dealing with Roy, so you’ll let Jamie slide this once.

“Right, so, we’ve been meaning to tell you- I’m having a baby,” you blurt out.

Roy’s dinner roll gets crushed in his hand as his face goes bright red.

“What,” he growls, and you’re not sure if you’re more terrified by the absence of “fuck”s or the fact that it was a statement, not a question.

“That’s wonderful, love!” Molly says before Roy can say anything else. She’s not looking at him but you can practically feel him take psychic damage from the shut up and be happy you prick, message she’s sure to be telepathically sending him.

“It’s Jamie’s, right?” she continues, taking a bite of salad.

“The fuck kind of question is that?” you ask indignantly. “Who else’s would it be?”

“You don’t have to pay me for that one,” Phoebe pipes up. “I’ll give you a free tab of one hundred words because of the baby. If it’s a girl, you can have fifty more.”

You grin. “Sounds like a plan.”

“You’re probably going to owe her the fifty, Phoebs,” Molly says. She points to Jamie with her fork. “I mean, look at him. He practically screams ‘girl dad.’”

“That’s- fucking- great,” Roy garbles out. “‘Scuse me.”

“We’re having a backyard wedding next Saturday, too,” you call after him. “So we probably won’t all be the Kents again.”

You wince as he slams a door from somewhere in the house.

“He’ll come ‘round,” Molly says consolingly. “Remember how he was with Phoebe? And I was already married!”

You grip Jamie’s hand. “Molls, why can’t he just emote like a regular person? I mean honestly, did our parents fuck him up that bad?”

Molly raises a shoulder in a half shrug. “I don’t know, babe. Think he’s just like us, really, afraid of loving something so he just pushes it all away. And besides, you’re the baby of the family. We’ve always tried to protect you and keep you safe, and sometimes he feels like you’re out of reach.”

You ask, “He told you that?” and Molly just laughs.

“Not in so many words,” she replies. “But you know how he is.”

“He’s an arsehole,” you grumble. “I’m going to go talk to him.

—

Roy is, predictably, in the backyard. Not many places for him to go and think properly.

You find him sitting under the tree.

“Oi,” you say, “budge over.”

He grunts and moves so you’re not quite in the dirt.

“Can you be sitting on the ground?” he asks.

“It’s been like three months,” you reply, “That isn’t long enough for me to get stuck places.”

Roy says, “hmm,” but doesn’t offer up anything else so you just sit in silence next to him, pressing your shoulder to his.

“Why the fuck did it have to be Tartt?” he asks after a beat. “Could’ve been fucking anyone in the fucking world, and you fucking chose him.”

“You like Jamie,” you say in confusion.

“I don’t,” Roy replies, “he’s a prick. And a fucking footballer. Why’d you have to go for a fucking good-for-nothing footballer? He can’t even be around for his family when they go through shit because he’s going to be busy scoring fucking meaningless goals or some shit.”

That stings for a moment, but you take a good look at Roy’s face. It’s stoic, but shit if you can’t read it like a book. Blood is blood, and you’re a Kent just like him.

“This isn’t about him, is it. It’s about you. You think you did a shit job as a brother and an uncle so Jamie’s going to be a shit father.”

“I missed out on a lot,” Roy says hoarsely. “And before you say fucking shit, I’m not fucking crying. So shut the fuck about it.”

You grin and wrap your arms around him. “You’re the best big brother a girl could ask for. Took all my cues from you. And anyway, you’ve been there when it counts. Phoebe fucking adores you, practically attached at the hip you two. And yeah, Molls and I missed you when you were at Sunderland and Chelsea and wherever. But… you came back. We needed you, and you came back. So don’t go projecting your stupid self-image on Jamie, because he’s not like that. And you’re not either, you absolute fucking ape-armed frizzy-haired shit-faced twat.”

Roy huffs out a chuckle. “Ape-arms. Haven’t heard that one in a while.”

“Almost went with ‘camel knees.’ Haven’t used that since I was ten, but I thought it might hit too close to home these days.”

Roy laughs for real this time and tilts his head so it’s resting on yours. “Still fucking weird that my little sister’s having a kid.”

You say, “You’ll get over it. Oh, and don’t wear a goddamn T-shirt on Saturday.”

—

It’s rainy, so the backyard wedding becomes a living room wedding, because who really gives a shit? Richmond have a game tomorrow, but for today they’re in yours and Jamie’s house all dressed up (but still in trainers) laughing and smiling as Dani officiates what you’re sure is your dream wedding.

It’s not the one you and Molly would’ve giggled about as kids when you sneaked from your bed into hers, but everyone you loves is here.

For once, Jamie’s house almost seems too small.

(Dani was the only person you two knew who was ordained or whatever. And hey, could you have picked a happier person for it?)

Molly and Keeley had gone out with you to find a white dress, Sam and Phoebe were the flower-people, and Roy walked you down the stairs to where Jamie was standing with Isaac by his side.

“I’m not fucking crying,” Roy whispers in your ear. “It’s fucking allergies from being in this prick’s house for too long.”

“It’s my house too,” you remind him.

Roy just sniffs, pats your hand where it’s tucked into his arm, and presses a kiss to your cheek.

All in all, it was pretty great.

Gifts range from hair products to restaurant gift cards to designer baby clothes, including a tie-dyed onesie from Phoebe.

“I have a matching one at home,” she explains.

But now it’s the evening and everyone is gone except family.

“Can’t believe my baby’s married,” says a beaming Georgie as she ruffles Jamie’s hair from their place on the couch.

“Can’t believe he attained his childhood goal of marrying into the Kent family,” Molly remarks.

Jamie grins smugly. “What can I say, I’m a fucking goal-getter.”

You’re snuggled in Jamie’s arms, dress exchanged for a white sweatshirt and sweatpants set, courtesy of Rebecca.

“I’d’ve had a poster of you on me wall if they made one, babe,” Jamie says. “Better sight than that hairy git.”

Roy just rolls his eyes and says “I’m getting another beer.”

“Can you bring me a piece of cake?” you call after him.

“Me too?” Phoebe asks, looking hopefully at Molly.

Jamie pats your knee. “Don’t think he heard you, love. I’ll get it for ya. You too, Phoebs.” He shoots a wink in her direction, and she giggles.

“Oi, grandad,” Jamie says, walking into the kitchen. “Did you hear your sister?”

Roy turns around from the fridge with a menacing look.

“If she has a single moment of unhappiness, I’m going to fucking kill you,” he growls.

“Jesus, sorry,” Jamie says, hands in the air. “What’s got your knickers all in a twist?”

Fucking Jamie, never able to back down from a good squabble with Roy.

They’re both keeping their voices down because they know if they got caught, no less than three people would be grabbing them by the ear and yelling.

They might know this from personal experience.

Roy says, “She’s my little sister. I’d fucking murder for her, and so would Molly. Always tried to make it easier for her when she missed our parents and shit, but it always fucking got to her anyway. Didn’t help that I fucked off to Sunderland at fucking nine, before she was even fucking born. She’s wanted a family of her own for fucking ages, and if you fuck this up for her they will never. Find. Your body.”

Jamie’s not sure Roy’s ever looked this menacing, which is saying something, because he’s Roy fucking Kent. He always looks menacing.

So he nods and says quietly, “I ain’t gonna fuck it up, Coach. Had a shit dad too. Always wished he were around, except when he was then he’d get all fuckin’ angry and shit. But… still wanted him, y’know? Weird. Anyway, not gonna be like that with her. I want a family too.”

Roy looks straight into his eyes, looking for the barest hint of insincerity. Jamie’s gaze doesn’t waver. He’s not sure of much, but he’s sure of this. He’s sure of you.

Roy says, “Right,” nods once, then claps Jamie on the shoulder right at his phone dings.

Jamie pulls out his phone to a text from you that reads, pls stop fangirling over my brother. baby wants cake and so does ur mum

He smiles and tries to figure out how to balance three plates at once.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 4 days

Note

@throwaway20506 so I'm alerted when this is posted

WIBTA if I asked my boyfriend to pay for things more often?

I'm currently dating a guy who is from a very wealthy family, like. Super wealthy. As in, he lives in a one bedroom apartment downtown in one of the most expensive cities in the USA. He knows a lot of like. Semi famous and famous people. He's currently studying in the city I live in and we met at a gay event. Since he's studying, his actual income is somewhat lower bc he doesn't work all the time, but he has Investments (I'm not sure what that means to be honest, but it's how he pays for stuff like groceries and going out when he isn't working) and his family pays for his rent and stuff. He's obviously not hurting for cash in any way. On the other hand, I'm not destitute or anything but I work two jobs to make ends meet and have three roommates, and generally try to not spend more than I have to.

We both like to eat, so we go out for food sometimes. I've usually picked cheaper options and he tends to go for fancier places, like a place we went had caviar that he ordered? I've always been poor and haven't ever really had any close friends that were wealthy.

I expressed before that I wanted him to know I wasn't trying to take advantage of him for money or anything, and I'm not. He's genuinely a very sweet guy. He's bought me a few gifts before, but I never asked for anything. I want our relationship to be like. Fair and even. So we always split everything cost-wise 50/50. Which can also be kinda weird for me sometimes, w my poor friends if something is cheap (like if we order McDonald's or smth) we're very comfortable spotting each other or just "oh you can get it next time" type thing. But with him every little thing is 50/50.

The thing is, when we split 50/50 at some more expensive places, it's kind of more than I really want to spend going out. Sometimes there really aren't any cheap options on the menu. I've told him before that I don't want to spend a lot when we go out, but I think he just doesn't really have a good idea of what "a lot" is for me, and he really really enjoys these places. I'm also very aware I guess that his going out expenses don't really detract from his ability to do other things because all of his money is pocket money, whereas I need to budget to make sure I can afford non-boyfriend related fun stuff and rent and boyfriend stuff.

I've considered maybe asking him to pay a bit more of a share when we go out, but I'm not sure if that's fair. WIBTA if I asked to split 60/40 or something when we go out? Or maybe cover the meal sometimes? I don't want to tell him we can't go to his favorite restaurant, I just can't really afford it as easily as he can, and I know it won't negatively affect his finances if he pays more since he has. A lottt of money. I also don't usually get a lot, I was taught to always order something cheaper than the other person orders.

#aita #am i the asshole #eyestrain

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diorcities · 1 year

Text

icarus

pairing: jeno x fem reader.

genre: smut, angst

content: mention of inexperience reader, mention of virginity, face riding (female), slight bondage (collarbone), female masturbation, fingering, anal fingering, multiple orgasms, riding, oral sex (male).

wc: 2.5 k

an: stop bc this look so ridiculous i don't even care. am i projecting? yes. do i want my yn moment? also yes. i love daydreams, and i love being delusional, anyway, enjoy <3

masterlist

oh, icarus! for all you have fallen, still you flew! and for a moment, the sun knew of you, too.

“yn, you're here?” your friend snaps her fingers in front of you, making you blink twice. “i'm having a collapse,” you confess, grabbing your head. “oh, no, i think i'm having a panic attack.” your eyes widening as the realization hit you in the stomach. “yeah... can you have it later? we're in the middle of something.” you laugh, tense. “i mean, what's going on? we've been here before,” she wanders around, as the lineup moves. “like, past year, you forgot?” you shake your head, a glimpse of a smile slowly dancing on your lips.

of course you remember.

last summer was the best summer of your life. after you have studied all year for your final exams at university, you and your friend went on a summer trip full of concerts and traveling around the globe. it was a rewarding experience for passing all your exams with good grades and saving money on your part-time job. it didn't matter what concerts you were attending. imagine dragons, coldplay, taylor swift... after a whole year of working hard, it was kind of a present from you to yourself. forgetting completely about college, both of you had a great time last year.

one night you two bumped into a concert having a place in your city. your friend immediately wanted to go, and consequently, dragged you with her. since your motto was <enjoy the summer as if it was your last> you didn't waste time and started to feel the vibe of the moment. letting yourself go.

a guy caught your attention that night. spending all evening looking at him in awe. amazed. later that night, you were sure his gaze was fixed on you. stealing glances from time to time, your heart beating so fast in your chest from the arousal. when the concert was over, he invited you to come with him.

his voice was low and raspy, like a shot of rum. and later that night, you knew his breathing was sharp and heavy. arms covered in veins, body sculpture, and chiseled by some divine god. eyes so dark you are scared to drown in the void of his pupils. nose long and manly that still makes you wet your underwear. you let him have you that night. a couple times.

“oh, god, i lost you again.” your friend rolls her eyes. “what's the deal with you?”.

“sorry, i got lost in my thoughts,” you reply, advancing with the line. your friend gives you a look. “you sound flustered,” she notices, smiling. “stop that,” you cut her off, hearing his laugh. “i mean, i'm a human, i'm nosy,” she defends herself. “what if i wanna know what happened?” “nothing happened,” you answer. she huffs. “lies.”

once inside, you and your friend go to the right side of the scenario. “you never told me about that guy you met last year,” she comments. “you know... your first time.” she adds. “oh, what if he's here tonight?” her eyes wides. “could be,” you say, distracted. “that's why you've been smiling so hard, i just know it.” she laughs. “i kinda wanna meet this sex god that has you smiling like an idiot.” you join her and laugh. your smile dies in your lips as the bitterness hit you. chest starting to hurt. what if he doesn't remember you? what if he doesn't want to see you? your fingers start to fidget the moment the lights go out.

and there he is again. the warmth expanding in your chest when your eyes manage to find him. he looks the same as always. ethereal. unreachable. magical. your eyes opening, trying to grasp everything. frame it in your head. tattoo it. he doesn't look at you. his eyes sweep the whole place with parsimony, but his eyes don't find yours. and the flame in your chest spreads. wanting. wishing. your muscles move on their own as you stand up, without worrying about how ridiculous you are trying right now. but your attempt worked. and now his eyes lock with yours. and you feel like you're holding your breath, yearning.

is this how icarus felt when he approached the sun? this burnt feeling through the limbs, only to find out he was burning inside out? suddenly falling (in love) with joy because, for a moment, he was close to the sun?.

his eyes weigh down when he looks at you. charged with a deep feeling, an unknown emotion. licking his lips as he sinks into his thoughts, imagining. his hectic breathing makes him look attractive. his skin glowing with sweat. flexed arms looking bigger; the memory of them holding you tightly as he penetrated you with care. you bite your lip instinctively, and you see him spasm where he stands.

both of you don't think you can hold it anymore.

the hours pass slowly. a torture for you, already waiting for him. your fiery pussy wet by your violent desires. lips part open as you breathe fast and superficial. he disappears behind backstage and doubt freeze you right where you are. wondering if you imagined it all. until a message.

j: you free?

“no. fucking. way.” you shush her watching her open her mouth, in disbelief. “you're texting jeno!?” she whispers, and you nod. “wait, what? hold on.” her eyes sparkle. “so this mysterious guy is the one and only jeno lee?” you roll your eyes. “jeez, you'll let everyone know.” she glances at your phone. “well, you better go, right?” she says. “wait, you're not coming with me?” you ask, worried. “i mean, i don't see any threesome word anywhere, so yes, i'm leaving,” she says, “you better show off. tell me all about it tomorrow,” she demands, walking away. “eh, can i have an autograph, perhaps?” she jokes, before winking. you watch her leave before responding to the message.

you: always.

even up close, your eyesight doesn't do justice to his beauty. he had a shower before you arrived. water pearls forming in his jet-black hair. his hands guide you to a wall before attacking your lips fervently. with sharp and hungry movements, he devours your mouth with desperation. leaving you breathless. the kiss breaks enough to take a breath of air, a thread of saliva connected to your lips due to arousal. feeling his tongue make its way through your mouth, flicking and moving, causing your arousal released in your core. “i want you,” you whisper in his mouth, feeling his hands running over you. “how much?” he breathes. your hands guide one of his hands under your skirt. his palm rests in your pussy. wetness going through the fabric. a filthy groan leaves his mouth. “take it off for me, angel.”

you do as you're told. lowering your underwear to your ankles and picking it up from the floor. you hand it to him, watching him bring your underwear to his face, sniffing your scent. “cute,” he says, before he kisses you. hands finding the buttons of your shirt, undressing you. leaving quick pecks on your lips, he guides you to his hotel bed. you drop yourself on the surface, staring intently at him standing in front of the bed. “show me how much you want me.” his glossy eyes darken at the sight of you spreading in the bed as you do what he wants. your black skirt lifted up, showing your wet pussy. your fingers slide between your folds, before inserting two in your cunt, remembering the times you touched yourself thinking it was him.

your head pulls back, eyes shut, feeling a sweet warmth in your intimate area. your mouth opening to let out little gasps, while your fingers move rhythmically and quickly in and out of your pussy, hitting hardly your spot. “jen-o,” you pant with a whine. the only mention of his name on your glossy lips makes his dick twitch inside his pants. he sits in the bed, eyes glued on your fingers stroking your cunt. your back arch as you feel the flames spreading inside you, his hands stopping you from reaching your climax. a wave of spasms shakes your body, as you bite your lips, opening your eyes, before he uses the same hand that pulled out your fingers from your pussy to insert his own. “let me.”

his movements are by far more precise and agile than yours. his long fingers going in and out, as you stirred and hissed and twitched your face in pleasure under the blackhair's gaze. his free hand goes to your collarbone, restraining you from moving under his touch. the wet sounds filling the room with your whimpers and moans, feeling his fingers increase intensity and speed, driving you insane, making a mess of babbling and incoherent words. your eyesight going black when he hit your sweet spot repeatedly, limbs going numb, before the fire pools and spread in your core, to the rest of your body. legs pressing together as he keeps flicking his fingers inside, your walls contracting and pulsing in his digits.

he lets you go to lick your arousal from his fingers, humming in an instance. “so sweet.” he states. “fuck, let me taste a little more.” you feel his breath in your pussy, before his tongue wipes out your sensitive core. your hands go to his hair, feeling him licking and sucking you. your legs spread open, as he dives into your pussy with heavy breath.

he detaches from your pussy and sits up on the bed. his hands seek yours and climb you on his lap without difficulty due to your muscles still stiff, body feeling lightweight. he kisses your neck and lips. hands disappearing under your skirt sensing his fingers testing your ass, sliding his index finger along the length, until finding your hole, inserting his digit with a quick move. your body stutter as the warm feeling embraces you, starting to wiggle while his finger fucks you. it's a new feeling for you, arching your back due to the strange pleasure that hits you. starting to grind against his lap. his free hand goes to your back, unfastening your bra. his thumb rubs circles in your nipple while his mouth wraps the other one, sucking gently.

he stops his fingers while lifting you with one arm enough to pull down his pants. “are you gonna be a good girl and ride this dick? mmm.” you nod effusively. he releases his length and it hit your leg, twitching. your hands go to your skirt, but he stops you, “leave it on, you look cute.” glancing at his bulge you think that it must hurt him. so you don't waste time after he puts a condom in, taking it on your hands and plunging it inside, already craving it. a sweet burn embraces your pussy due to his thickness. stretching you out. adjusting and wriggling on his length. jeno lets out a rasping grunt before he makes you bounce on his lap. pounding into his dick, your vision fades to black, sensing the waves of pleasure washing you. your breathy moans and soft whines mixing with his guttural sounds. kissing his lips, grinding against him. awakening all your nerve endings.

you contract your walls feeling his dick twitch, before pushing it deeper, the dizziness clouding your senses as you go up and down, constantly hitting your core, almost seeing stars. “fuck, i'm gonna cum.” his raspy voice warns. you go faster and harder, riding him to his climax. feeling his dick, pulsating against your walls, you grind him, rocking your hips back and forth, feeling his cock still hard. your moves becoming sloppy the more you approach your orgasm, finally exploding and throbbing around his length.

you pant, exhausted. feeling mind blurry and body buzzing on top of him.

“sit on my face,” he hisses, lifting you up with ease. his body rests on the mattress as you climb to his chest, hands holding you for support before you sit down on his face. nose rubbing your clit.

you let out a little moan before you start moving. his hands holding your thighs tightly while you rock your hips into his face. tongue licking along your folds, nose stroking your clit, grinding against him, mixing your juices with his saliva. his warm breath hitting your core sweetly while he mumbles “taste so good.” speeding your moves as the knot in your stomach tightens. quivering and crying out because his tongue feels so good, before releasing your extasis in his mouth. your orgasm washes you over, dissolving in shockwaves.

you stroke his hair while he force you to rock your hips along his mouth. feeling so satisfied it hurts. “s-too much...” you cry, trying to stop him from moving you, but he's stronger, so it doesn't happen. “go on, darling, a little more.” he mutters into your core, sending shivers through your body due to the sensation. you swallow, deeply. “let me... i want to taste you too, ” you confess, fluttering your eyes because of how sensitive you were.

you hop off his body and drop your knees in front of him.

holding his cock in your hands, starting to move them up and down. he's already hard. you strike your tongue along his length, hearing his throaty breathing. “put it in your mouth, yeah?” he urges you. your warm mouth receives his cock with pleasure. sucking gently and watching him stare at you while you do it. tongue going to the underside of his shaft before returning to the tip, swollen and red. inserting it with ease until it hits the back of your throat. “you're taking it so well,” he says, breathy. you hum with his cock still in your mouth, causing him to swear. watching him so needy and agitated for you. oh, you wish you were the only one who could see him like that. his cock feeling so good, his tip resting on your tongue as you stroke him. feeling his flavourful seed spilling in your mouth before you swallow it.

you get up from the ground wiping the corner of your lips, staring at him, seeking his approval. “have i done it right?” you wonder. his hand caressed your cheek before sliding into your mouth. “mmm,” he grants. he taste himself on your lips.

“now, all fours on the bed. i'd like to destroy you a few times more.” strocking his length.

you feel him settle behind you, and you don't have time to get ready when his cock buries inside with a hard move. body propelled forward. his hands hold you in place before he starts to smack his hips against yours, pounding at a slow and hard pace, making you feel demolished. gasping with each thrust, your body collapses between the sheets, before he uses his strength to make you arch your back. mumbling and babbling like a fool, brainwashed by the way he's fucking you. your whole body shivering due to the overwhelming feeling of his cock sliding in and out of your abused pussy. “fu-uck.” biting your lips and rolling your eyes to the back of your head, spinning. your pulsing walls wrapping him tight while he curses a lot.

a few more thrusts are done before you release yourself around him. your limbs numbing with a white feeling. mouth part open letting out incoherent words, mind going blank. you feel his grip on your legs, turning you around, now facing him. “want to stop?” he asks, hovering over you and leaving kisses on your neck and chest. his eyes meeting your eyes, watching you smile languidly shaking your head. he smiles before he pulls in. “good girl.”

#nct smut #nct dream smut #lee jeno smut #jeno smut #♡jeno #jeno drabbles

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filmbyjy · 11 months

Text

COLLIE DUTY

SYNOPSIS > being the new CEO to the ‘Sim Corp’ was hard and stressful. jake didn’t have much time to spend with layla and so he decides to get a dogsitter, you. though, you were originally already his secretary. how will dog sitting bring you two closer?

FOUR - she’s a cute one [written + pictures]

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

WARNINGS: none :)

ah yes, who knew you’d spend the afternoon of your work day walking down to jake’s expensive ass mansion. no seriously, jake was loaded with money.

oh sorry, I meant Mr.Sim was loaded with money. as you can tell, he is your boss and CEO of the company. you never bothered to ever address him by Mr.Sim though. why? simply because the both of you are the same age. it truly was a funny story on how you landed this job. being his secretary.

you remember the day where you bumped into him and spilled your coffee onto his shirt. god, you remember scrambling to help him and wipe off the stain off his like $1000 coat. actually, you were already late to like an interview (at his company but you didn’t know he was the CEO)

“it’s alright. you don’t have to apologise.” the man before you says.

“no no, i’m sorry. I spilt coffee on you and your coat. it looks expensive. though I probably can’t afford to buy you a new one, maybe I could pay for dry-cleaning?”

He laughs. No seriously, he laughs at you. He found you sort of cute to think that you could pay for the dry cleaning of his expensive coat. It was a one of a kind coat and there was only one in the world. Specifically tailored for him but you didn’t know and he wasn’t a rich snobby guy.

“It’s really okay. It’s just a little coffee and you were a little clumsy. This happens the most of us. Just be careful next time, alright?”

“But I need to repay you in some way-” he hands you a business card.

“If you feel really bad then maybe you could eventually repay me by getting coffee together.”

You bowed a couple of times to apologise to him and then went straight to the interview. The same one he would attend since he so happens to be looking for a secretary at the time. This stunned the both of you a little when you noticed each other in the room. Jake was even quicker to also announced you would be his new secretary and that caused jay and another staff to look at him in shock.

“What? Is it wrong to want her to be my secretary?” Jake tilts his head.

“Mr.Sim, we barely started the interview.-”

“And? She definitely looks qualified. Maybe a little clumsy but she definitely can get it after a couple of times.”

“Sir-” jay stops the other staff.

“Alright then Mr.Sim, if you wanna do it. Go ahead.”

The memories…and now here you are. watching Layla running around with a tennis ball in her mouth. she places it on the ground in front of you and nudges you to throw it. you were surprised she warmed up to you instantly because you heard it took a while for jay to even convince her to eat the food he placed on her bowl.

you threw the ball and Layla runs over to grab it. she barks and happily catches it. she then runs over to where you were and flopped in front of you. she rolls over so her belly was exposed. you gave her a good belly rub and she enjoys it. maybe this wasn’t so bad, layla was a good dog so she definitely would be obedient with you. now, all you had to focus on was getting some actual work done.

you were still jake’s secretary after all. hence, you took out jake’s iPad and went to fix up his schedule for tomorrow. you scanned through and added everything important, called to make sure the clients would actually be present in the next week’s meeting. you just continued working. then, a message pops up.

it was jake, asking if he could see a picture of layla. you happily snapped a picture. however, you quickly realised what you had just sent after texting him that picture was just creating more work for yourself and now you were screwed.

a/n: rip you. I am also hoping that the pictures and texts don’t mess up bc the last time I did it, I could not edit the chapter and it wouldn’t save😵‍💫

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babiebom · 3 months

Text

Where they fall in omegaverse Dynamics (stardew edition)

A/N: no i don’t know what’s wrong with me but now we all get to experience the inner workings of my mind :) enjoy OBVIOUSLY KIDS ARE NOT INCLUDED I was gonna do everyone but decided I didn’t know enough about a lot of the characters so only people I know :)this is hella old btw

Tw: sexual mentions, cursing, some insults to certain characters but like that’s not new here.

Genre: shitpost, headcanons

Masterlist

Alpha- top of the hierarchy. Dominant, and usually in charge. Hot heads and breeders.

Abigail- i think she would be an alpha that acts like a beta or omega. No one would actually know she’s an alpha until she loses her temper or goes off scent blockers or something.

Alex- typical dudebro and will be doing the breeding thank you. I feel like he would be a stereotypical alpha like this is a given.

Sebastian- DONT KILL ME PLS this is kinda biased because I know for a fact that I am literally Penny but an actual person and he is the one I am attracted to so naturally I want to put him here. I am probably delusional but I also think he could take charge so hmph.

Shane- can’t see him being bred bc i think he would be doing the breeding. When he takes control of his insecurities and stuff I think he could be super confident and leader like. Just needs to not be depressed.

Pierre- it’s his personality tbh. Like while I desperately do not want him to be in this category based on how much I dislike him, he would go into this category purely because of how he acts. He wants the most money, he’a the “man of the house” and provider, he has a temper he would just be an annoying alpha.

Kent- sexy hawt military man is obviously an alpha. There is no way he is being bred, there is no way he is going to be the homemaker, being an alpha is literally the only thing that makes sense for him.

Mr.Qi - he gives off alpha vibes, no omega or beta could be this confident and mysterious for absolutely no reason other than just being that way idk.

Evelyn - she gives off the vibes that when she and George were younger they were the “it’s fine/HE ASKED FOR NO PICKLES” couple. I think she could whoop somebody’s ass back in the day.

Robin- she is the woman with a business, she is providing, she is building, she is alpha no question about it.

Gunther- it’s the way he tips his hat idk. Also the way he’s just like “oh you don’t have any cool artifacts? Get out of my face then.” Maybe not that mean but like vibes.

Sandy- HAVE YOU SEEN HER? she is alpha, the would never be a beta or omega that is not her style at all sorry.

Marlon- man kills monsters for a living. Like no omega is going to waste time on that or even do that if I’m honest. Leave monster killing to the people who don’t have other things to do.

Pam- she gives off alpha that had their omega leave them vibes and that’s why she’s a crappy mother because it was not supposed to be her job.

Lance- literally a fighter/adventurer. The man protects and attacks he has to be an alpha, there is no way an omega can do this, and due to him being an active adventurer, and him being protective makes him more alpha than beta.

Olivia- an alpha mother that wants her beta son(spoiler) to be more like her. She active in getting money, or at least I think she has stocks. And she’s more ambitious than I think an omega or beta would be.

Andy-is this because he gives off asshole vibes? Mayhaps. He just seems like he’s an alpha whose family left him so he’s bitter at the world. A corpo slave to so where else would he go?

Suki- boss bitch that actually sneaks into the capital(or whatever it is) and steals and gets other people to give her contraband so she can sell it to bitches at a high price for her risking her life. Would never bow down to anyone.

Beta- in the middle simply because they are neither dominant nor submissive. They do not give off smells nor do they have heats or ruts. Basic people tbh.

Emily- she is just vibes. No amount of sex or heats or ruts or pheromones will bother her. She is above that and is too busy making clothes for birds.

Leah- I think she would literally just be middle ground because she gives off those vibes. Also because I think she could possibly end up with either an alpha or omega, it literally doesn’t matter to her.

Maru- she is literally just science. I am sorry but there is no time for breeding and going feral because of heats, she needs to make this robot and she needs to make it now.

Harvey- I also would’ve put him in Omega but since he is a doctor I feel like that means he is a beta. Like I don’t think alpha or omegas would be able to have this job since instincts and stuff are a major part in how they act. Betas would be able to ignore everything else and just work idk.

Clint- doesn’t give omega vibes but definitely is not an alpha. Like not to jump on the Clint hate train, but he gives off angry beta vibes that wishes he was an alpha. He doesn’t have confidence, and he seems like a loser tbh. He probably wishes he was an alpha to get Emily, or even any girl that he likes, but doesn’t realize that she and maybe even the rest don’t really care if he’s an alpha or not so he’s mad for nothing.

Morris- he is literally just a worker bee. No sex, no love, just working and getting to the top and having money. The man is only ruled by money, no amount of good smelling things and sexy prospects will entice him.

Willy- a man who just wants to fish. He also gives off alpha vibes, but I think he is too comfortable to be around and too chill and level headed to be an alpha. Love him.

Magnus- I think he just magically made himself a beta in order to not have any distractions. Was married once, it was a mistake, he impregnated a person that lives in Pelican Town (*cough* Caroline *cough*) and she went back to her husband so he doesn’t want any other distractions. It’s only time for magic and protecting the town.

Linus- cannot be an alpha or omega and be comfortable living alone in a tent. He is just a nature man and it would not make any sense for him to be anything but a beta.

Demetrius- like father like daughter, the only thing that matters is science he just somehow ended up with a hot wife. She is happy being a provider and he is happy doing his science.

Grandpa- I have no idea I refuse to put him under either because it’s either admitting he is fuckable and submissive or dominant and a fucker. Absolutely not.

Lewis- hate him he has baby balls with how he treats Marnie, yeah he’s a leader being mayor, but no true alpha would act like this. He’s an asshole that is making himself seem like an even bigger asshole in an attempt to seem like an alpha.

Victor- is only ambitious about things he cares about, which is similar to the others on this list. Doesn’t wish to really do anything with his life other than what he is passionate about, like bridges.

Susan- all she wants to do is be on her farm as far as I know. I would’ve put her in alpha but she doesn’t give off those vibes she just seems normal? Like she’s able to take charge but won’t if she doesn’t have to?

Omega - definition of submissive and breedable. At the bottom of the hierarchy and their main purpose is to breed and serve the alphas. Sadge.

PENNY- the literal definition of submissive and breedable. Like yes? This is her actual dream? She would love this.

Haley- has the personality of an Alpha but is not one. Just extremely bratty. The right person will make her submit naturally and not just because of her status.

Sam- sweet boy Sam is deffo an omega. Maybe not super submissive but I think that underneath the childishness he would be a good homemaker. Like I think that his relationship with his younger brother shows that he is on the more nurturing side rather than the I have to provide side.

Elliott- Elliott stans don’t hate me. But he gives off worshiper vibes and not the person being worshipped. Maybe it’s his love notes and letters but I think he would do good with an alpha he could serenade all day.

Caroline- I feel like only an omega could deal with Pierre. She always complains about him working all the time and how he behaves but she never does anything about it. Omega behavior.

Jodi- an omega that hates being an omega. She is in charge of child rearing, and is the homemaker but hates it. Wishes she could be a beta and wishes she could’ve waited to get married and have kids. She is so unhappy this is her biology.

George- Evelyn’s bitch. I’m sorry. But like we all know that George is Evelyn’s sub. Idc.

Marnie- the most obvious out of the villagers that isn’t a bachelorette. Like yearns for a family and marriage and romance. She wants it, she needs it, unfortunately attached herself to an asshole.

Gus- yes he is a business man, but all he cares about is feeding everyone and providing a place for them to Hang out. He is an omega that found his calling in serving people instead of having kids and we love him for it.

Sophia- this girl isn’t Alpha at all. Like bffr she’s depressed, shy, and quiet. And her hobby is cosplay. Girl is one hundred percent an omega. Even though she owns her parents company, I think she isn’t like business motivated, only is happy that it’s this company specifically and allows her to garden idk.

Claire- she is different from the others on this list. Because she is motivated, she wants to be an actress and does work and provide for herself. I think though if she met the right person that would provide while she chases her dreams she would like it. Even her hobbies seem soft to me (reading, ballet. )

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softxsuki · 11 months

Note

i wanted to know for the urgent request if it could be for the obey me! boys, mammon, levi, satan, asmo, and barbatos when reader has been really down and depressed and even told them they thought about committing so they comfort them for it? i haven't gotten any comforting recently and i love your writing so i was hoping you could do this :( <3

Obey Me Boys Comforting Reader With Depression

TW: PLEASE DON'T READ IF MENTIONS OF DEPRESSION, SELF-HARM, AND THOUGHTS OF SUC*DE WILL MAKE YOU FEEL WORSE RATHER THAN COMFORT YOU. THANKS

Pairing: Mammon x Gn!Reader, Levi(OM) x Gn!reader, Satan x Gn!reader, Asmo x Gn!Reader, Barbatos x Gn!reader

Warnings: mentions of self-harming and old/new scars, depression, and mentions of reader wanting/thinking of taking their own life

Genre: Comfort

Post-Type: Headcanons

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: In which the boys find out that MC is feeling depressed and thought of taking their own life, and that they also self-harm, so they provide MC with comfort in their own way :)

[A/N: Kya!!! Thank you so much for trusting me with your urgent request! I hope I did an okay job with it. It's been a little while since I last played Obey me, so I cam very much behind with it (and I'm stuck on the regular game bc I can't level up mu cards fast enough. rip) but I really hope this brings you some kind of comfort. I'm here if you ever need anyone to talk to if if you just need someone to listen to you. Feel better soon <333]

Mammon:

Mammon notices the sudden change in your mood straight away since he’s always around you

He does his best to try and cheer you up without directly confronting you about it

So he’d invite you out with him and might even spoil you with pretty things in hopes that using his money on you helps distract you from whatever you’re feeling

But that all changes when he sees your self-harm scars

Fear fills him and he knows he can’t just avoid the topic anymore, he doesn’t want to see you in pain or have you harm yourself anymore

So one day when you’re out with him in town, he softly takes your hand and leads you to a bench away from the hustle and bustle of the town

He’s a little cautious, he’s not really good with being direct about his feelings, especially not with you because he gets so nervous and this was serious…he was scared to mess up

“Y’know MC…I may not be the best person to go to about troubling things in your life, but I want ya to know that I’m here for you. I…don’t want to lose you. Actually, I can’t lose you–never. So maybe things are hard for ya right now, but you’re one of the most important people in my life. Your problems are The Great Mammon’s problems as well, so let me in, won’t ya?”

He’s awkwardly rubbing his neck now as he feels his face heating up, but at least he got everything he wanted to say out

So when you do open up to him about your depression, self-harm, and thoughts of taking your own life, he feels relieved that you are finally speaking about it with someone, but he’s also scared that you’ve been feeling that way and he had been trying to ignore it for so long

He’s scared to let you out of his sight after that, so if he shows up to your room at 3am with a spare pillow, you know why

Mammon’s always inviting you to his room as well so you can watch stuff together until you fall asleep

Extra clingy Mammon who’ll probably bug you about how you’re feelings every few minutes, but at least you know someone cares

You’d find all your issues slowly dissolving as he covers you with love and attention, just don’t block him out

Leviathan:

Oh boy, Levi is very overdramatic when he finds out what’s been going on with you

He’s beyond scared to lose you–you’re his only best friend after all, the one who truly understands him and cares for him unconditionally

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t realize MC. I’m such a good-for-nothing. I can’t even tell when the person I care about the most is going through a tough time. Y-you’re amazing MC! You’re one of the best people I know, unlike all these other normies out there. You’re always so kind to me and I just hate that I couldn’t be there for you when you needed me…”

Yeah, he’s definitely beating himself up about it because how could he not realize???

“You’re always here for me, that’s why you’re the only one I felt comfortable telling this to. Please don’t blame yourself…I kinda didn’t want anyone to know at first; I thought I could deal with it on my own…” You’d explain to him

He’s a little relieved to hear it, but it still won’t make him feel any better

Levi is always throwing himself in the ground, so not being there for you at a time when you really needed him AND when he could have potentially lost you, scares him to death

Like Mammon, he keeps you by his side, but in your room since he sleeps in his tub and that’s not very comfortable for you LOL

He’d move all his games and game stations into your room and make a little base there to stay by your side until you’re feeling better

He probably goes to one of his older brothers who are more responsible like Lucifer or Satan and asks for their advice (without giving you away ofc. He’d make it sound like one of his online friends are dealing with this issue since you only trusted him with this info)

He’s very awkward and shy at times, but he’s glad that you trusted him to let him in on the pain you were feeling internally. He makes it his mission (literally, like he’s playing a game, but knowing that it’s far more serious) to get you back on your feet and in a better mental state

And we all know Levi is good at games, so this is one he won’t fail either :)

Satan:

Satan reads a lot, books of all genres, so he picked up on your sudden change in behavior very quickly and he’s actually the one who goes to you first to talk about it

“What’s going on?” He bluntly asks one day when you’re in his room reading with him in a peaceful silence

That catches you off guard…did he know? You could see the serious look on his face so you decide to just open up to him about everything; the depression, the self-harm, and even the thoughts that flash through your mind of taking your own life

Satan listens silently as you speak, taking in all your words and you see his eyes soften the more you reveal to him

“I see…” he’s lost in thought for a moment, but then stands up and walks over to you, taking your hands in his as he leaves a gentle kiss to the back of your hand. “I knew something was up, but I wanted to hear it from you before I assumed too much. I’m sorry you’ve been feeling this way. I’m here though, and now that I know what’s going on, I’ll do anything and everything I can to ensure you feel better.”

And he really will

Whenever you come over to his room to do your daily reading together in each others presence, he spends his time reading books on mental health that give him plenty of advice on how to best help you

He isn’t overbearing though, he gives you your space and allows you to reach out to him whenever you need him, only checking up on you when it seems appropriate so you don’t feel suffocated, but deep down he is worried and scared to lose you

So he offers you his own help, but also asks if you’d like to go to the human world to see or speak to a professional who might be more helpful to you than he could be

He even volunteers to go along with you if you don’t want to go alone–he just wants you to be happy again to not feel so claustrophobic in your own skin

Whatever you decide to do, just know that you have his 10000000% support

Asmodeus:

This man is very dramatic as well, but in a different way than Levi…

He throws tons of compliments your way in hopes that they help lift you up, but really, he’s better at giving physical acts of care

SO, your self-harm scars? He goes out of his way to wash them up and lotion them up, pressing small kisses the the older scars and newer ones as well

“Even with these marks, your skin is still as soft and beautiful as ever, darling. My lovely MC, I’ll do everything I can to take care of you from now on. I’ll pamper you everyday and remind you how much you mean to me, so please don’t harm yourself any longer…”

Asmo isn’t one to be very serious at times, but he knows now isn’t the time to joke around with you, so he’s uncharacteristically very serious, yet still as charming as ever

He’ll treat you to extra tight hugs and kisses, a little scared to let go in fear that he’d never be able to hold you again, so bear with him a little…he can be a bit suffocating

He isn’t the best listener or remarkably great at giving advice that doesn’t have anything to do with fashion or beauty, so he’d probably go to Lucifer for help, or maybe even Solomon, who’s more familiar with human emotions like depression

Anything you need or want, Asmo will get it for you

Get ready to feel more loved than you’ve ever felt before in your life

Barbatos:

He knows…of course he knows, Barbatos knows everything 😀

The first time you attempted to self-harm, he was there to stop you, so you never even got the chance

What he didn’t know about though was your thoughts of attempting to take your life, since you never actually made the move to do it, you only really thought about it

So when he sits down with you to hear you out about attempting to self-harm and you open up about your other darker secrets as well, he’s shocked

Momentarily, it’ll show on his face, but he’ll catch himself and gently smile to you as you continue to speak your mind

He doesn't want you to feel embarrassed by any of this or to beat yourself up for getting caught or for feeling what you feel–you were human and humans experienced moments of intense emotions that they can’t control sometimes, he understood this very well

“Oh dear MC, I am relieved that I was able to stop you this time. Though, I must admit I do feel particularly regretful that I am not able to read minds so I could put your own mind to rest from your dark thoughts. Now that I am aware of everything, I shall do my best to assist you in recovering mentally”

He’s not the most emotional guy out there, but you know he cares for you and when Barbatos dedicates his time and attention to something, he WILL get it done

Barbatos takes your hand in his and presses a delicate kiss onto each of your fingers, and leans his head onto the back of your hand, in almost a way that he’s ready and willing to serve you (not that he didn’t already, but it’s more of like his own way of physically showing his dedication to you??? Does that make sense? KINDA like when a knight is knighted and vows to protect whoever he’s assigned to??? Am I making sense? hopefully…)

He doesn’t need to keep an eye on you because he’d be able to stop you anyway if you ever decided to do anything drastic, but he does free up time in his busy schedule to be with you, he’s dedicated to serving Diavolo, but you very quickly become his number one priority (you already were, but he was never aware of it himself lol)

I don’t know, but I just feel like Barbatos is such a soothing person to be with, his voice is like silk, it wraps you up like a warm blanket and feels like a big tight hug when you need it the most

SO I imagine you’d feel better pretty quickly with all the attention he’s giving you, and the warm tea he makes you????! You’re set for life, get ready to feel brand new

REQUESTS ARE OPEN :D

Posted: 7/11/2023

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clementine-writes-things · 19 days

Text

Edward Nashton Headcanons

Summary: My personal headcanons for Edward Nashton. Again, these are MY personal headcanons and I use them for when I write about him. So, yeah. I can't believe I'm just now writing headcanons for this guy. This is long overdue.

Content Warning: Sexual themes (there will be a section for NSFW headcanons), angst, trauma, and smoking. I have so many headcanons for this man...

(literally going to eat him)

~Read Below Cut~

(Before this starts, I want to clarify something. Run Rabbit Run, a series I made, is my personal 'background' story for y/n and Edward. Of course I don't use that story in all my Edward Nashton fanfics bc I have other ideas yk. But, overall, it's my personal headcanon story for him. So a lot of these headcanons will apply to that. I hope that makes sense lmao. Run rabbit run is like my concrete headcanon, and every other fanfic I've written about Edward is pretty loosey goosey and just for fun.)

(ALSO IN MY HEADCANON HE NEVER BOMBED THE SEAWALL AND ONLY KILLED FALCONE AND THOSE DIRTY POLITICIANS SO SHUT UP BLAHBLAHBLAH I DON'T WANT TO HAVE TO WRITE ABOUT GOTHAM BEING UNDER WATER RAHHHHHHH <3 okie thx)

SFW Headcanons:

He has autism 110%. He got tested for it when he got out of the orphanage and was not surprised when he discovered he had it.

He loves journaling. Sometimes he will scrapbook. He likes to document his feelings/thoughts, especially when he's feeling down.

One of my headcanons is that his Riddler persona is always apart of him. He can't 'get rid' of it. So, he goes to therapy to deal with it and the journaling helps a lot with it.

^following off on that, I think that after the events he did and after being with y/n he genuinely tries to reform. He would use his 'crave for justice' and apply it to protesting and standing up for human rights and stuff like that. So like, imagine roaringkitty from Dumb Money. He always informed ppl about stocks. Edward is like that except it's about social justice and equality. Slay.

He really loves fruit. Like a lot. He favors kiwi and watermelon a lot.

he likes to make protein shakes/smoothies for breakfast a lot!

because he's a boyfriend that acts like a dad, y/n once got him a "World's Best Dad" shirt for April Fools (since that's also his birthday, y/n actually got him a real gift too which was a photo of them in a cute little picture frame) but he found the shirt to be really funny so he'll occasionally wear it out in public and everyone is always confused

"World's best dad? How many kids do you have?" A woman asked.

"None."

"Oh..."

*he proceeds to leave the conversation and leave the woman extremely confused and concerned*

He smoked for a little while when he didn't care about his own health, but he stopped when he started dating y/n. It's difficult for him, but with y/n's encouragement he's doing a great job.

he goes to therapy

he listens to Lana Del Rey occasionally, but only cuz y/n listens to her...although he doesn't mind listening to her music...

although he doesn't really look like it, he LOVES metal. His favorite bands for heavy metal/ NU metal is as follows (ranked from most fav to least fav): System Of A Down, Megadeth, Korn, Slipknot, Metallica, Slayer)

Other bands/singers he likes are (in no order/specific genre): The Cramps, Weezer, Green Day, ICP, Gorillaz, Billy Idol, I Monster, Talking Heads (he loves the Talking Heads sm)

He also likes 'oldies' like The Inkspots, Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, and Billie Holiday.

When he started dating y/n, he started to listen to hyperpop (bc y/n listens to hyperpop IN MY HEADCANON)

He isn't the biggest fan of hyperpop, but he doesn't HATE it. he actually loves some certain songs/artists. (mainly likes Lumi Athena and 100 gecs)

when edward and y/n go out to a social gathering, it looks like this:

but tbh, that's just how they look next to each other 24/7 lmao

edward loves to read books, especially classics like Frankenstein, Dracula, For Whom The Bell Tolls, A Clockwork Orange, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (bro loves banned books)

loves spoiling y/n with all his heart. the only thing keeping him from being a sugar daddy is that he is in the same age range as y/n. but other than that, he literally acts like a sugar daddy.

has a BUNCH of nicknames he made specifically for y/n such as: rabbit, bunny, firecracker, spazz, crackhead/drophead, and the sweetest one of all... "dickrider🥺" and he calls them that during silly little arguments or when y/n gets sassy

"Blah blah blah, Edward. I don't wanna hear it." - y/n

"Whatever, dickrider." - Edward

"'Scuse me?" - y/n

"You heard me. Dickrider." - Edward

"I am not a dickrider!" - y/n

"Well..." - Edward

"No." - y/n

"Wellllll..." - Edward

"No. Shush." - y/n

"Fine...dickrider..." -Edward

"EDWARD!" - y/n

Edward dresses like a 40 y/o divorced dad trying to learn the floss at a BBQ in a relatives backyard (so slacks and a polo/button up shirt)

y/n forces him to expand his wardrobe so he occasionally wears actual t-shirts and jeans sometimes, shorts, sweaters, etc.

Edward occasionally likes to grow out his hair slightly (kinda like Paul Dano's haircut in Ruby Sparks)

dyes his hair occasionally (mainly black but he once did black with SUBTLE dark green highlights)

he hates oatmeal, porridge, grits, Jell-O, and pudding. the consistency makes him want to scream. (same)

he is the most LGBTQIA+ friendly person ever. if he is meeting someone for the first time, he asks their pronouns.

i think that he is queer. i don't think he really has a specific sexuality. he's just queer, yk? but, that's really it.

goes to pride parades with y/n (I HEADCANON HIM DATING A NON-BINARY SHE/THEY AFAB PERSON OK LEAVE ME ALONEEE)

he GENUINELY loves to sing and will often sing y/n to sleep if they are having trouble.

he can play lots of instruments but has a preference for guitars (electric/bass/acoustic)

loves Breaking Bad.

hates Walter White.

he makes references to the show so much that it's concerning

"Oh shit! I just broke this plate!" - y/n

"Is it bad?" - Edward

"No, not really, bu-" - y/n

"Did it break bad?" - Edward

"Edward..." - y/n

"Was it breaking bad?" - Edward

"Get out of my apartment." - y/n

"Can you still cook? Can you still cook after breaking bad?" - Edward

"Edward Nashton, I'm going to hurt you." - y/n

he really likes stop motion moves, he admires how much work is put into them (loves Fantastic Mr. Fox the most. Coraline is a close second.)

he doesn't mind PDA, he actually loves it. he's proud to show off his partner (but he doesn't do anything more than kissing and cuddling in public...sometimes...maybe in a bathroom or a closet...hehe...)

sometimes he'll have nightmares about the orphanage and he'll wake up crying. y/n will hold him and comfort him back to sleep. he'll tell his therapist about the dream asap and work through it with them.

he'll also have nightmares about being the 'Riddler' again. those scare the shit out of him. he doesn't want to be that person again. his past haunts him frequently, even though he is reformed.

he knows how to sew very well and will sew customizations on his clothing and y/n's clothing. Example: hearts on their jeans, question marks on his sweatpants, stuff like that.

he knows that no one will truly forget what he did as the 'Riddler', but he hopes that donating to charities, raising money for them, and giving advice to others will show people that he's a changed man. but, all that really matters is that y/n knows he's a changed man.

practices drawing/painting/sketching in his free time (he loves to use charcoal, water colors, and oil pastels)

he hates when his skin is dry, so he lotions all the time. he has the softest skin ever. but, his hands are usually rough because he plays guitar and he has callouses built up. yet, it feels oddly nice against y/n's skin.

RANDOM THINGS I FEEL LIKE HE WOULD SAY: (ik this isn't really a headcanon but i just want you to see how much of a nerd/weirdo he is)

"You know, flamingos get their pink color from eating carotenoids. They are born a pale grey, but over time they get the pink hue that we know them for. Although, it's very rare for them to be a hot pink, more of a coral."

"No, y/n, you cannot drink the dish soap and burp bubbles. I don't think that's even possible."

*watching Tom & Jerry* "These physics are so unrealistic. Tom would be pulverized underneath that anvil. Blood and guts would be everywhere." *y/n looks at him with a horrified look* "Um, I mean...what a...what a goofy cat..."

*walks up to y/n with his phone in his hand* "So uh, one of my twitch followers in my stream today said I was 'Serving... *spells out c*nt*' and they also said that I 'ate and...left no crumbs?' is that a good thing?" *y/n laughs* "That's a very good thing." *he smiles*

"I saw a pigeon get it's head stuck in a donut today. It reminded me of you."

"Male ducks have corkscrew penises. So, they literally screw each other."

"Please stop putting your fingers in my mouth when I yawn."

"Yes I want a damn scooby snack. They sound fucking delicious."

"How am I supposed to live, laugh, love in these conditions, y/n? How!?"

"Y/n, be honest...do these jeans my butt look big?"

"A kid at the library threw a book at me and I contemplated drop kicking him."

"Please, for the love of God. Stop calling me the Rizzler. I...I don't know what that means..."

"Are you the backrooms? Cuz, I think I'm getting lost inside of you. Wait...that sounds weird. Um, forget that. Do you wanna kiss me now?"

"I'm not straight, but...that's all."

"One of my followers on Twitch said I look like the moon emoji. Banned."

"Edward, I'm afraid we can't make mac & cheese tonight. We're all out." - y/n

"Why? Do not be afraid..." - Edward (in the most deadpan voice)

"Well...now I'm very afraid..." - y/n

NSFW HEADCANONS! YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!:

Dom all the way. He has too much of an ego to be a sub. Ik a lot of ppl say he would be a sub, but I strongly disagree. Maybe he'd try it a few times.

This guy is too kinky, it would take 500 pages to list them (not rlly but ykwim)

He can bounce back between being completely vanilla and being ao3 type of kinky

some of his personal fav kinks are: BDSM (bro is sadistic prove me wrong), he is also a bit of a masochist though; choking; overstimulation; he has a daddy/sir kink; he actually likes roleplay a good bit, but it just has to be something good.

(one time y/n and Edward tried to do a college professor/college student roleplay and it was so fucking funny they couldn't go through with it. y/n said "Is there anything I can do to make my grade better Professor Nashton?" and he said "Do a better job...?" and that's when they both realized they couldn't get through it.)

Edward doesn't think sex is super important in a relationship, so he can go a long time without it. But, sometimes...he just wants to touch y/n. Not even have sex. Let me explain...

^sometimes he'll ask y/n if he can just finger them or eat them out, something like that. he doesn't even want to cum, he just wants to make them cum.

He developed a fond and cruel taste for teasing y/n in public. Sometimes he'll subtly make a fingering motion if he's picking something up. Or, he'll rub their inner thigh while sitting at a table. He usually only does this if y/n has an 'attitude' or if he wants to hint that he wants to have sex that night. However, if y/n ever gets uncomfortable during his teasing, all they have to do is tap him on the knee/shoulder and he'll know. They both respect boundaries <3

This is a bit of an angsty one, but sometimes during sex, he'll realize how lucky he is to be with y/n. So, he'll stop whatever he was doing and just hold them close to him. The sex after that is usually gentle and soft, which y/n actually really likes. He'll cry and tell them that he loves them so much and when they are both done, he'll just spoon them and find comfort in their body heat.

he is the KING of weird sex positions and weird places to have sex. he once fucked y/n in the closet at one of their friends house. it was cramped, so he had one of their ankles lifted on his shoulder and their other leg hoked around his waist. if y/n wants him to fuck them, he'll find a way. trust.

he really likes being praised during sex bc it makes him feel proud. it also feeds his ego a lot, but eh! hehe

if there was a competition for who could "do the best dirty talk" Edward would win it immediately by a landslide. y/n was the first person he ever had sex with, but they swear it was like he was a "professional" at it. he says such vulgar and erotic things and its jarring coming from such a sweet face. y/n loves it. what things does he say? well, let's start with sweet things he'll say during sex...

"You're so breathtaking below me, y/n. You're glowing."

"How is it that you looks so angelic while I'm fucking you?"

"You're doing such a good job, baby. You feel so good."

"That's it cara mia, cum for Eddie."

"You're making my heart race, honey. It just might burst out of my chest if you keep this up..."

^Aw, wasn't that so sweet :3 hehe, that's what he says a lot during vanilla and occasionally during some kinky sex. but, what does he say when he's in a "I'm going to fuck the soul out of you" mood? Uh...

"I know it feels heavenly, but you really ought to keep your voice down. You don't want to get caught, do you? Or, perhaps...that's exactly what you want. So filthy..." (while fucking you in a public bathroom)

"I wonder how long it'll take you to start begging for more...oh, there we go. Hm, not long at all..."

"I won't bite you hard, maybe, but I can't say the same about fucking you."

"What's the matter, rabbit? All fucked out and dumb? But, I haven't even started round 3 yet..."

"If you want it so bad, then why don't you bark for it? Yes, I'm aware you're not a dog, but I assure I can easily leash you up like one if you aren't a good girl/boy."

"I'm going to make sure you can't walk straight for a week. You know I can do it."

"You were starving for it. You were drooling over it. Now, you're gagging on it. How's it feel shoved down your pretty throat?"

"I don't care if they can hear us. That just means they know how good you're getting dicked down. Why don't you moan my name a little louder, make sure they remember who's doing this to you."

"'Oh Edward! Edward!' You sound so fucking cute when you're whining. Do it again. Louder."

"Suck on it like it's fucking candy. You're gonna get every last drop."

"Look at you. Before, you were teasing me in public, torturing me. And now, your face is shoved in the mattress while I'm fucking you from behind. Not so fucking cocky now, are you?"

HEHEHEHEHEHEHEEH

He's also AMAZING at aftercare. He'll give y/n a bath, sometimes he'll even take a shower with them.

He will always clean y/n's legs/pelvic area (and anywhere else that needs cleaning) with a damp rag every single time they finish having sex.

If he was particularly rough with y/n, he'll give them a gentle massage afterwards and tell them how good they did.

being the paranoid boyfriend that he is, he'll always remind y/n to pee afterwards so they don't get a UTI. he'll also tell them to drink lots of water.

One of his favorite things to do for aftercare is have them lay across his lap or sit on his lap or snuggle up against his side as they both watch a movie or TV show (it's usually Breaking Bad or My Little Pony. the duality of man.)

Tbh, if he can't make y/n's legs sore for at least an entire day after having sex, he doesn't think he did a good job.

#writers #fanfic writer #writers of tumblr #fanfic #the riddler #dc universe #gotham #danonation #paul dano #edward nashton #danonator #danocel #dano riddler #paul dano riddler #batman 2022

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ryverbind · 3 months

Text

Faceless Fixation (Sal Fisher): Beg For It [21]

TW: smut :P

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dacnorthxx started following you.

sallysusedtoiletpaper: VI WHO IS THIS WHO IS NORTH WHY IS THIS INTERACTION GIVING ME LIFE??? t0ddles2: @sallysusedtoiletpaper frontman of dark autumn complex sallysusedtoiletpaper: @t0ddles2 oh omg ok... I've never heard of them are they any good?? ashypoops: I haven't heard of them either. What genre? More importantly DOES VI HAVE HER VERY FIRST SHIP toodswithoutthed: @ashypoops I WAS ABOUT TO ASK BC THE CHEMISTRY!?!? they're obsessed w each other... I went stalk his profile. Ship name options: northlence, violeth... t0ddles2: they're rock/metal. even if u don't like the genre, they're worth a listen sallysusedtoiletpaper: WORD I just followed him and their band account >:3 also @toodswithoutthed I'm personally a fan of violeth. I'm linking this shit in the faces fan discord ashypoops: THERE'S A FAN DISCORD??? can u send me an invite pooks🥺 sallysusedtoiletpaper: @ashypoops ofc😘 sallysusedtoiletpaper: OMFG SOMEONE BEAT ME TO THE CHAT EVERYONE KNOWS NOOOOOO

———

Yea, so I lost my job. Big shocker.

Once my boss found out that I dipped mid-shift, the text was typed out and sent by the evening.

In any other situation, I'd be fucked. Indefinitely. Completely broke and flailing to get a new job. In fact, that was my first thought. As soon as I got the text, I clicked onto my bank account to check how much I'd have to live off of until I found a new job--

--only to find out that I had over $2,000 just sitting around, which was such a nice surprise. I don't think I've ever had so much money to my name before in my entire life. And all the transactions were straight from all my streaming apps. All within the past two weeks since being back in LA.

To say the least, losing my job couldn't have happened at a better time. Now, I can put my focus into something I actually enjoy doing.

But first, a trip to Nockfell, which is proving to be more chaotic by the second.

"Todd, dude, there's a chemistry to this thing, okay? It's a ritual," Larry says, all seriousness and business face as he stares back into Todd's uninterested gaze. "I can't fly without it."

Todd blinks, a flash of frustrated disappointment crossing over his features. "You're not taking an edible before the flight, Lartholomew."

Ash had a ticket ready for me before she even got to LA yesterday. Her entire mastermind plan was to abduct me whether I liked it or not-- not that I would've said no to begin with. And besides, having her at the apartment to help me pack last minute made pre-flight stress non-existent.

Travis is camping out at my apartment. He was more than happy to kick me out of my own house, claiming that my bed is comfiest anyway. Regardless, he said he had no desire to return to Nockfell anyway. And dad was just excited for me to go visit considering how much I've complained about missing the little town over all these years.

Sal and I haven't spoken since his last commanding text to me. Right before his very sudden face reveal. He's caught in an almost petrifying silence-- has been since he put his prosthetic back on. I, on the other hand, very much resemble a little puppy whimpering and begging at his feet. Metaphorically, of course. I wouldn't dare to physically exploit my internal thoughts.

The really sickening truth is that I'm so desperate to see his face again that I'd trip him down a flight of stairs just to recreate yesterday's scene.

Just kidding. I don't mean that. I definitely don't.

"All our seats are kind of screwed up, so I have no idea where you're sitting, sugar." Ash pokes my cheek, her chin in her palm and elbow propped on the armrest of her seat. "I bought them kind of last minute so I took whatever they had available."

A little smile tips my lips as I turn my attention away from the grumpy smurf and focus on my stunning best friend. Her viridian irises glow with renewed joy and energy like our plans check off so many bullet points on her bucket list. "That's okay," I reply, tilting my head. "At least we actually have seats, right?"

Ash grins, her maroon shaded lips accentuating the light freckles along the bridge of her nose. "See?" she chirps, arm winding through mine to pull me closer. "You get it. When do you not get it?"

Our plane calls for us to board, and so begins the toxic, anxiety-inducing split-up of the century. I lose all The Faces somewhere in the crowded line that gathers at our gate in just a matter of seconds. That's okay though, I'll probably end up sitting with some old lady that smells like an odd mixture of peonies, Dial soap, and Lysol. You know, a funeral home and two colds away from death. So long as she's nice, I'll catch her dentures when they fall out of her gaping mouth as she naps.

Anything for MawMaw.

I hobble my way into the plane, brain set on finding my seat before stressing about all other one hundred and fifty two things I have to worry about later. People are everywhere and it's, expectedly, a huge plane. Three rows-- two seaters against each wall and a row of three seats down the middle. Sickening, really. Social anxiety's worst enemy is looking for means of escape only to be met by even more people.

I block everyone out as best as I can, pretending that the people I bump into are just very dense pieces of furniture. Or, actually, even better-- a bunch of really buff kitties. Yep, just passing through a horde of Maine Coon's and Munchkin's.

I spot row F, my pupils zeroing in on the letter like a scope on a gun. Target acquired.

The majestic way I veer around what my mind imagines is a really tall Siamese and their spouse, a yellow Persian, is something that the directors of The Matrix are pissed that they couldn't come up with. I swing my foot around a figurative pair of paws and reach my free hand out to grip onto my seat-- F20. That's right bitches, I did it.

I swing my suitcase up, somehow managing to actually get it into the overhead compartment. I give it a good shove with both of my hands and a grunt, then pull the backpack off my shoulders to keep it at my feet when I sit down.

But now that I've stopped, cats are pushing past me and it's so aggressive and rushed that they suddenly aren't sweet, fluffy kitties anymore. They're people again and I'm starting to get dragged away from my seat by this sea of shared distress.

Nimble fingers latch onto my wrist from the seat beside mine-- the seat against the window. The hand tightens around me, giving my body a good yank forward. I use the aided force to weave my way around a few more people up until the hand pulls me into my seat.

I huff out a breath, pushing my hair out of the eyeholes of my mask. And begrudgingly, I turn my head to meet bright cerulean hair.

Sal isn't looking at me, he's facing the window. His entire stature gives off a mixture of unbothered and ashamed. He shouldn't feel that second one-- never. Granted, he shouldn't feel angry half as much as he does but that's besides the point.

Ever since it happened, I could tell that the abrupt exposure of his face has been heavily weighing on him. I don't owe this man a single thing-- he's been awful to me in so many ways, but I give credit where credit is due. Not only did he own up and apologize to me yesterday, he helped me to my seat... and he is handsome. Regardless of how he views himself.

He's my biggest enemy and I, his. But if I plan on getting fucked during my visit to Nockfell, I have to give him the Beating of Truth.

"So," I mumble, chewing on the inside of my cheek. If you couldn't tell, I'm absolutely forcing myself to do this even though it's the last thing I want to do. "How are we working around Ash, Larry, and Todd when we get to Nockfell?"

Sal's head tips up a bit, like he's wondering to himself if I actually just spoke to him. Then his head pivots sideways so that he can side-eye me.

"What?" He asks, voice genuinely shocked and confused. It makes my heart stutter a bit. Any time he speaks in a tone that isn't aggressive, it completely reboots my system.

"How are we going to follow through with this arrangement?" I try again, simplifying it into Sal terms. He has a wide vocabulary range; maybe using bigger words will snap some sense into him. For added effect, I lean onto the armrest separating him and I, trying to show that he doesn't repulse me or anything of the sort.

Sal doesn't move away, instead, he adjusts his body so that he can address me. Fully turns his prosthetic face to me and settles into his seat. I didn't realize how tense he was when I first sat down, but watching him relax now shows me how much my simple mention of our agreement settled his mental turmoil.

He's quiet for a moment, eyes dancing across my mask and body before his gaze meets mine again. "You still want to?" he finally decides to ask, eyebrows lifting beneath his prosthetic.

"Yea," I snort, scrunching my nose up as if his question is ridiculous. "Why wouldn't I?"

Okay, stupid question. I know the answer and the words came out before I could stop them. In more ways than others, that was a genuine response though. I can't accept that Sal would be so put off by his own appearance because I truly think it's so lovely. I have to remember though that not everyone sees themselves the way I see them though.

Sal's brows bunch together again, his eyes narrowing. "Stupid fucking question," he echoes my own thoughts, voice even and void of tone. Whoopsie.

I roll my own eyes, sighing. "Well, to settle the whole debacle," I start, aiming to just bite the bullet and extinguish the awkwardness and misplaced fear vibrating between us. "I think you're quite the catch."

Friendly banter is weird. Borderline uncomfortable, but... not quite. Just so that I'm ready to get this over with but I'd be prepared for it to happen again.

A nasally snort leaves Sal and he rotates his head so that he's facing the pair of seats in front of us.

"So," he prods, ignoring my statement. "North?"

Mission success. I know he'll never admit it and he doesn't need to, but I think he appreciates the compliment.

"What's it to you?" I counter, adjusting my position in turn. I sit criss-cross applesauce in my seat, making sure my feet don't touch Sal because God forbid. "You still get to fuck me."

"Not much," he says lowly, hand moving to ruffle up his fringe. There's that dagger tattoo again. And then his head tilts just a bit, haunting sapphire blue piercing straight through my soul like the weapon etched onto his skin. "But you're mine. North can't give you even an ounce of what I can."

Fuzzy fingers, a pounding heart, and the worst case of cold sweats possible dominates my body for the rest of the flight. My brain replays that statement over and over again, plaguing me with recurring physical reactions like I've just heard it in real life again. I wish he hadn't said anything at all if it was going to leave me like this.

Neither of us said another word. The only sound between the two of us was the constant cracking of my knuckles accompanied by me putting my feet on the ground-- then sitting criss-cross again-- then having to readjust again and again and again. He left me quite literally restless and I'm sure he's relishing in just the knowledge of it.

Landing in Nockfell was a quick divergence from bubbly hearted affliction in my being. A good distraction from Sal.

Perpetual autumn. Nockfell never gets too hot or cold. The air is always misty, the sky always grey and cloudy. Tall, ever-growing trees dominate both night and day, stealing all the light from the sun and hiding it in their leafy treetops. Nockfell houses the kind of atmosphere that I've dreamt of returning to for years now; the gentle eeriness and chill that I've longed to bask in ever since I left.

We step out of the airport and into the small parking lot where a suspiciously blue haired man is waving at us with a big, dad-like grin on his face. Not a question in my mind. That's Sal's dad-- the cropped, receding cerulean hair was the first obvious sign but as we grow closer, his bright azure eyes are the second giveaway.

"Wassup, daddio!" Larry exclaims, wrapping Sal's father up in a huge bear hug (which is so Emo Buff Daddy of him). I nearly forgot that Sal's dad, who I now know as Henry, is also Larry's step-dad. Crazy.

"Not much, big guy!" Henry chuckles, rubbing Larry's back affectionately once the hug comes to an end. He pats Larry's shoulder, that big smile still on his aged face. "You guys brought the friend back! Convinced her to come huff up our humid air?"

Henry moves over to Ash, Todd, and then Sal to hug all of them. He purposefully places a discreet kiss on top of Sal's head before turning to me.

He holds his arms open suggestively and my heart flutters. "You okay with hugs?" He asks me. "Everyone's family here."

A grin of my own sneaks onto my face as I take a little step toward Henry and wrap my arms around his middle.

Henry's arms latch around my body, shielding me from the moist, heavy air of Nockfell and anything else that could possibly hurt me here. His embrace is so comforting, so familiar, so protective that tears I've been holding back for weeks suddenly rush to the surface.

I love my own dad, he's perfect, but being hugged by his near doppelgänger reminds me of how much I miss him. I wish dad and I weren't apart so often. But that'll change soon with the money I'm making.

I don't allow myself to weep, I hide the tears and pull away from the comforting hug I needed so desperately to smile sweetly at Henry. Lovely man, his own smile widens.

The group of us piles into Henry's old 2000 Nissan Pathfinder to navigate around Nockfell.

We first stop at Ash's place-- a home I haven't seen in a decade now. Everything is so nostalgic-- the tall, two story, white-painted, wooden home and the canopy of evil-looking trees that hide it from the road reminds me of a time that's been ripped away from me.

Ash leans on the door of Henry's SUV, the window down for her to speak to me before she disappears. "I'll come by Sal's or the apartments later to scoop you up, 'kay? Parents and I have a meeting with some guys to transfer ownership of some things to me before the move." She chews on her lip, a deep yearning in her pretty eyes. "I'd let you stay with me if I could."

I shake my head at her-- I don't want her to feel guilty for handling business. "No that's okay." I tell her sweetly, grabbing onto her hand. "I'll kickback with the guys."

Ash smiles, squeezing my hand in hers before breaking off to head to her house.

Now, I never imagined I'd end up coming back to Nockfell in general, but to stand in Sal Fisher's home? These were even more improbable odds.

And worse, Todd suddenly slips out of the house with the very mean (he's ditching me!) excuse of meeting with Neil for a late lunch. That just leaves me, Larry, and Sal standing in the spacious kitchen of their shared two-story home. It's quaint, roomy, and pretty nice. I imagine it's kept up specifically because Sal tends to it.

And Sal, he doesn't say anything. Which is typical behavior from him. He only, swiftly, spins on his heels, luggage in hand, and disappears into a room right past the stairs. Okay, fair. It's late in the afternoon-- naptime.

And now it's down to two.

I look to Larry with a grin. And he's grinning back excitedly, wiggling around like an antsy child who's about to go on a field trip.

"I can't believe we managed to get you over here," he whisper-yells, screaming silently. You know, just open-mouthed and head tipped to the ceiling in pure excitement.

"Even Copernicus wouldn't be able to debunk this turn of events," I joke, watching Larry dance around his kitchen. I put my bags down. I'm sure we'll figure out this situation later when Ash returns.

Larry opens up his refrigerator, moving around some bottles before uttering an expletive. "Ah, fuck," he hisses out, quickly lifting his head which results in him slamming said head into the freezer door. I pause, wincing, eyeing his silhouette warily while awaiting whatever he has to say next.

He resurfaces from the fridge, rubbing his aching head and chewing on his bottom lip. "I left my fucking bags in Henry's car." He curses again, glancing up at me with agitated eyes. "I have to run over to the apartments real quick." Larry starts inching away from the fridge and I feel my heart leap. How could he forget his luggage in the car? And is he really about to leave me here with the master of aggressive seduction himself? We're bound to tear this house apart either via sex or a physical fight. I just don't know which one.

"I'll be like... ten minutes at most," Lar says, squeezing past me and around the kitchen table, rerouting to the front door. He gives me a look that screams vulnerability and urgency. "Please don't kill Sal, and don't let him kill you. Okay? I'll be back in a jiffy."

I blink at him, running my tongue along the inside of my dry mouth. This is not going to go well. "Okay," I say anyway. I can already see the headline on the newspaper-- 'Masked Streamer, Sally Face, Brutally Murders and Chops Up Rising Streamer, VioletViolence, With Kitchen Knife.'

Larry nods at me, pinches his lips together in a moment of concerned hesitation, then disappears through the front door.

I stand in the empty kitchen for a moment, watching the back of Larry's head through the front door window. "In a jiffy..." I murmur to myself, recalling the most soccer-mom words I've ever heard come from Larry's vicinity. It was so odd, I mean he would never say something like that, but here we are.

The house is empty aside from myself and Sal. What the hell am I supposed to do? Watch The Office?-- well, that actually doesn't sound bad at all.

I can literally do anything I want, though. I have been given the most opportune opportunity to act upon my will as I see fit. With that in mind accompanied by the suspiciously good conversation a certain blue-haired individual and I shared on the plane, I think I have an idea of what I could do. And I know I'll have a willing partner.

This will either end in a homicide via kitchen knife or an orgasm. I'll take my chances.

A sly little grin fights its way onto my lips as I spin on my heels, trekking over to Sal's room. His door is closed, giving him an ample amount of darkness to hide in while gaming or sleeping or whatever he's doing. But for me, it's the ample amount of darkness to create a moody setting. It's perfect.

The cold, metal doorknob sits comfortably in the palm of my hand as I give myself one last chance to think about this. I really shouldn't do this, but the timing will never be this good again. With everyone moving to LA, I may never get a chance this convenient since someone will always be around.

That's the last little bit of encouragement I need to twist the knob and slowly push the plain, white painted door open.

The wood squeaks on its hinges, making Sal turn his head up from his PC. His dark, shadowed eyes meet mine. They go from curious to a bit miffed in half a second— but he doesn't say anything, really just ignores me and turns back to his setup.

My heart races. He didn't turn me away or tell me to get the fuck out of his room. That's a good start. But that also means I can actually follow through with my very sudden plan— a plan which has no plan. I didn't even brainstorm what I could do because I genuinely didn't think I'd get this far.

I watch him closely, noting the way his computer casts a cool, blue glow against his prosthetic. His hand moves the mouse around and he clicks on various things, really paying me no mind at all.

My teeth clamp onto my bottom lip as I step past the threshold of his room, grabbing hold of the door and slowly closing it behind me. Once it latches into place, I wait, simply observing the man with my back to the door. For good measure, I turn the lock. You know, just in case I manage to get somewhere.

And he still doesn't look my way. The fact that he's ignoring my presence right now makes anticipation build up within me. My heart thumps a little faster than it already has been. My cheeks feel warm, I can't keep my hands still. It's like my brain is kicked into overdrive, forcing me to take notice of every little thing.

I lick my lips and take a step forward, scratching at the skin on my knuckles. I take another step, then another, my body growing warm with anxiousness all because I may stand in front of this man, present myself to him, and come to regret it. I really might embarrass myself. Just because we agreed doesn't mean he wants me at this exact moment.

But before I'm even really prepared, I'm standing right beside him. And he's sitting there without a care in the world, comfortably propped up in his gaming chair and pulling up different comments on what looks to be YouTube.

I've done about all I can for right now, but we are on limited time. So I watch him for a moment. He has to know I'm right here— I wasn't quiet, I didn't avoid his field of vision. I'm right here.

And I still get nothing.

Time to think. Should I say something insulting? That usually gets him riled up. Maybe then, one thing will lead to another.

I bounce on my heels for a second as I think up a quick insult. "Is this how you waste your time? Figured you'd at least reply to some of your fans if you were going to read their comments. Kinda shitty of you." Low blow probably. I don't really mean it, but I'm sure he'll take it seriously. His fans mean a lot to him, it's the best way to gain his attention.

But Sal doesn't even react, only scrolls through a few replies under a comment and clicks 'like' on a some. He doesn't flinch. Doesn't look at me. Never makes a sound.

I roll my eyes. Playing hard to get are we? He fusses at me for not complying all the time— he's such a hypocritical asshole. I hate that I'm into it.

I swallow thickly, putting my hands behind my back to try and hide my nervous fidgeting. "Sal," I try, cringing a bit. That was desperation— he has to know that.

Again, nothing.

He really must be trying to piss me off, that or he isn't interested at all. But thankfully, the zero interest half doesn't stink like I was afraid it would. Instead, it spurs me into action.

He can ignore my words all he wants, but he can't ignore me.

"I'm going to touch you," I warn because consent is important. "If you don't want that, you need to tell me."

I wait a good thirty seconds but he stays silent.

I pinch my lips together then grab onto the armrest of his chair, pulling it back just enough to place my body between him and his computer. He simply looks up at me with disinterested eyes, so I go further, fueled by the spark in my soul and the rage of him purposefully pretending I'm not even there.

I take a step forward and put a gentle hand on his shoulder for balance, then easily slide myself onto his lap. His thighs are warm beneath my own, his skin smooth under my fingertips. The dark ink on his biceps contrasts beautifully with the milky color of his skin and it's quite an honor to finally run my hands over his art.

I watch the way my fingers drag down his arm then up again, returning to his shoulder. I'm on top of him and he still hasn't said a word, still hasn't touched me. At this point, I'm yearning for something— anything.

The only good sign I'm getting is that he hasn't pushed me off.

I glance up, looking into his blue eyes that are darkened by the shadows of his room. They're watching me closely, no ounce of emotion reflected in them. He's just observing.

My other hand travels to his prosthetic face, gripping onto his jaw in the way that he does to me so often. "Think you can ignore me?" I whisper, a little smirk quirking my lips despite how badly I wish I could contain it.

A slight furrowing of his brows is what I get in return.

Ha, got him.

He still doesn't say anything, but I've piqued his interest at least.

"Larry's gone," I say next, my eyes traveling to the rough prosthetic in my hands. I run my thumb over the underside of his jaw, feeling a number of scars.

"I assumed so," he says, voice a bit deeper than it normally would be and toneless like it seems to have been all day.

My gaze meets his again, and this time there's a little fire in his pretty eyes. There's desire, interest, slow-building exhilaration. I love seeing this look on him.

"Mhm," I hum, moving my other hand from his shoulder to the side of his neck. "Are you going to sit here and ignore me like the asshole you are, or are you going to have mercy on both of us?"

Sal slowly blinks, eyes traveling over my form, drinking me in like I'm the last drop of water on earth. "You called me an asshole for a reason," he bites out. "Don't expect much. Unlike you, I can actually hold out."

"But what's the point of holding out?" I counter, tilting my head to the left. "Larry's heading to the apartments. We have about ten minutes. That's enough room for one of a couple options. Stop being a little prick and do something."

"More like twenty. Larry takes his sweet ass time." Sal's eyes narrow. "You think insulting me is going to coerce me into this, you little bitch? Thought you knew our dynamic well enough by now." My words are getting to him. That's exactly what I want.

"I do know our dynamic," I whisper, leaning my head down so that my face is level with his. I look into his cerulean eyes and they gaze back at me, one pupil dilated. Then, I bend lower until I'm at the nape of his neck, his hair tickling my jaw.

I use the hand holding his face to tilt his head up and away from me, using the angle as leverage to place my lips onto his warm skin.

I hear a muffled sigh from him in response and it takes everything in me not to smile.

My mouth moves slowly along the side of his neck, placing meaningful, wet kisses along his throat. But when I get to the hilt of his tattoo, I bit down gently.

He flinches at the feeling of my teeth digging into his skin, then completely aborts his mission to ignore me completely.

Sal's hands fly to my waist, one gripping tightly onto my hip and the other trailing up my back and into my hair, gripping the strands tightly before yanking my head back.

My teeth are ripped from his neck immediately and Sal pulls me away from him by the base of my neck. I gasp, staring into his captivating azure eyes from just centimeters away. His prosthetic nose bumps my mask's and he holds me there without a word.

His eyes trail down my face and heavy breaths follow his gaze. His cold fingers are curled into my neck, his nails digging into my skin.

I swallow, wondering if maybe I should have just minded my own business, stayed in the living room and waited for Larry to come back. Maybe I pissed him off.

I lick my lips and blink at him, my mouth gapes open as I try to find something to say. He's silent. It's not awkward, just scary. Scary is ten times worse.

Sal must see the regret and fear in my eyes because his own eyes lessen their harsh glare a bit and then he rasps out, "Can I touch you?"

Every inch of my body goes rigid with shock, anticipation. "Yes," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. My fingers tighten ever so slightly on the underside of his jaw while my heart runs an entire marathon in my chest. Now is not the time to get nervous because I sweat when I'm nervous. I need to be horny– not nervous.

Sal takes a deep breath, eyes set on mine. I feel his chest rise ever so slowly, then go back down the same exact way. The pause between us is utter agony and I feel like I'm going to start spazzing out or something. Honestly, with the way I'm sitting on top of him, I might just fall over and die on the spot. That feels less incriminating than whatever is about to ensue.

Cool fingers grasp onto my thigh, his palm flattening against my skin. His hand drags up to my side, followed by his other hand leaving my neck to grab the other side of my waist. The feeling of him touching me, just like he'd asked, fills me with memories I tried so desperately to forget just a couple weeks or so ago. This is deja vu in the best way.

In one swift motion, Sal lifts me up and plops me on top of his desk. I brace myself with my hands on either side of his keyboard that lays behind me. Questions of concern start flowing through my brain because this is an odd place to be.

"Don't knock over my shit," Sal breathlessly informs, eyes glancing up to me. HIs hands move to the waist band of my bottoms and I suck in another anxious, anticipatory breath.

I nod quickly, watching him with wide eyes as he looks down at my waist, his hands circling to the front of my stomach and fumbling with the button of my shorts. Oh my gosh.

I gulp, looking at anything but the man between my legs, currently pulling down the shorts I'd traveled in. His cold fingers brush along the outside of my thighs, causing goosebumps to rise all over my skin. He's slow, purposeful, dragging this out to get whatever reaction out of me that he can. It feels like my heart is about to explode.

I have no idea what he's about to do, he doesn't warn me either. I don't have the guts to watch this scene play out. The prospect of his dilated pupils, messy hair, and that glare in his captivating eyes is too much-- so much that warmth pools between my thighs before he can initiate anything.

"You look scared," he murmurs and I flinch at the gentle, comforting tone he uses with me. I've never heard something such as this come from him and be directed at mebefore.

"I am," I answer honestly, licking my lips while his fingers slowly pull my shorts down my legs. I lift myself a bit to aid him, shivering when my bare legs meet the cold surface of his desk. "A bit."

"Why?" Sal asks, hands pressing onto my thighs. With how warm my skin is and how cool his fingers are, the contrasting temperature is enough to spark an aneurysm. He drags those hands of his up my legs until he reaches my panties, hooking his digits into them.

I shake my head, chin quite literally tilted up to the ceiling. I'm not quite sure what has me so scared. Am I afraid of myself? Him? Getting caught? Being dropped again?

One risky hand leaves my hip and Sal's prosthetic comes into view. He's hovering over me, in a standing position now. His hair falls onto my shoulders, shielding us from the rest of the world like a curtain. I blink up at him, breath caught in my throat as a rush of chills invades my body.

"Hey," he says. His voice is a bit on edge, but it's concerned. So concerned that it distracts me from my own fear for a moment. "You're okay," he continues, his hand gripping onto my chin and pulling my head down so we can be eye level. I look between his bright eyes-- his eyebrows are risen a bit, as if to communicate to me that I can trust him. But can I?

"I'll take care of you. If you want to stop, if you don't want to start-- let me know. Say anything and I'll end it immediately." He tilts his head a bit, eyes glancing over my face. This is different. This looks vulnerable. "If I made you uncomfortable at all, I--"

My head shakes in opposition. I don't even have to think about it. "No, it's not that. It-- I trust you." The words spew out of my mouth and I immediately regret it. Something smug takes over his expression and I press my lips together, grabbing onto his wrist connected to the hand that's still holding my chin. "I trust you with this. If I was tied to train tracks, I wouldn't even think of calling you." I narrow my eyes at him to exemplify my point. His eyes squint as if he's... smiling? I'll ignore that. "But you've never... made me uncomfortable. You always ask. You always check. So..."

I watch him nod slowly, our gazes never disconnecting. He seems to contemplate what I've said, measurably formulating his next move. "Do you want to talk about what's stressing you then?"

My head rears back and my eyebrows furrow, his hand falling away from my face. "What brain eating amoeba has overtaken you?" I blurt out, holding a hand out between us. It's incredibly odd-- this is out of place. "You are never concerned about me-- what is this?"

If you can't tell, I'm not a fan of change. I greatly prefer stability even if it's toxic.

Sal drops the caring act almost immediately, his eyes rolling so hard that I'm worried they'll sink into his body. "I can't go down on you if you're freaked, can I? I wouldn't even feel comfortable doing that. I'm an asshole, not a monster."

I pause, every facial feature relaxing as his statement slaps me in the face. Key words: go, down, on, you, asshole, monster. Yep, only monstrous assholes go down on their enemies. I'm the very brave, very eager, very shocked recipient of this going down.

I take a deep, shaky breath, blinking at Sal who watches me with what looks like a raised eyebrow. "Okay," I breathlessly whisper. "How are you-- are you..." Why am I rambling? What kind of answer am I looking for? Obviously the prosthetic is about to come off and I just have to contain the desperate, whore-like rage within.

"Shut up, Vi," he chuckles over my nickname, grabbing onto my thighs and tugging me to the edge of the desk as he sits in his chair again. My fingertips press into the wooden surface while my heart threatens to pound its way through my ribcage. "Just let me taste you."

Cue internal screaming. I'm so going to faint-- and the addition of watching his pretty guitar-playing hands leave my skin to unbuckle his prosthetic is pushing me to astronomical heights. I don't even exist anymore. I'm just a wisp, a little phantom fairy watching her favorite sex movie play out in real time. It's called Faceless Fixation. She's the Fellatio Fairy. I don't even-- whoever is writing my life needs to give me a break.

I'm shivering like I have hypothermia by the time Sal carefully pulls the prosthetic off his face, making sure to not mess up his hair. And then he glances up at me. Bright eyes hesitant, sort of wide. Eyebrows risen just a bit and lips pressed together like he wants to say a thousand things but can't. He looks so nervous and it's a moment we can both share.

For reassurance (I think we both need it) I smile at him. Just a slight upward tilt of my lips as I press my thighs together. He's so beautiful. Every scar, every indentation, every feature, every little freckle. Just wow-- he's a sight to behold.

Sal's gaze flits to my lips, then down to my legs and he grabs onto them again, purposefully pulling them apart. His black polished nails dig into my skin as he gazes down at my underwear. I'm so used to watching his reactions and feelings portrayed only through his eyes, but watching the way his jaw tenses and the moment his lips part like he can't wait any longer makes me feel like I'll implode.

His fingers run up my legs to my hips, dipping into my panties and pulling them downward. I gulp over the sight, relishing in the deja vu. How kind of him to not rip these this time.

I lift myself up as he shimmies them down my legs, finally pulling them from around my ankles and holding them up for me to see. I blink, warmth rushing to my face at his boldness. And Sal, well-pleased, quirks a little seductive smile at them before switching his gaze to me.

"I haven't even touched you and you're soaked," is what he murmurs, eyes dancing over my half naked body with very little focus on my face. It's like he's glued to what hides behind my clenched thighs, eagerly awaiting what he'll find between them. "You're inflating my ego way too much," his voice is a bit louder this time-- darker, more sinister. The pronunciation of his words shows off charming, slightly crooked front teeth and sharp canines. I'll never know how I haven't ascended already.

I shiver, trying and failing to hide my reaction. But it doesn't really matter, seeing as Sal caught onto it anyway and his hooded eyes are on mine, a dangerous glint clashing with the hypnotizing azure shade of his irises.

His hands are on my legs again, fingers roughly squeezing my skin. He isn't putting off his plans again though. When he separates my legs and I try my best not to push him away out of fear, Sal leans forward and presses his lips to the inside of my left thigh.

I take a deep, shuddering breath as I bathe in the feeling of his soft, jagged lips moving along my sensitive skin. I commit the image to memory, absolutely astonished over the way his blue eyes are closed while he inches closer and closer to my pussy.

I'm unable to take a full breath at this point, my body is tense while I try to hold myself in an upright position, pathetically falling apart as his mouth dances along the inside of my thigh like he's studied and perfected each step he takes. His hands are molded into my skin, they've become a part of me. He's pressing my thigh up to his face, leaving the most inebriating kisses. I wish he would stop teasing me already.

At the same time, I'm obsessed with the way he's handling me. Delicately, carefully, but he's in full control and making me wait. Testing me. Seeing if I'll push him, hoping I'll give him a good reason to punish me.

Sal's eyes open again, glancing up to meet mine. I suck in a breath, watching as he opens that dirty mouth of his and bites into the sensitive skin at the top of my thigh.

I hiss, wincing at the slight pain but my eyes never leave his. They could never. And he loves that, takes it as a challenge because those sky blue eyes close and he bites down harder, sucking my skin into his mouth to leave his mark.

Some kind of satisfied, sickeningly delighted feeling swells in my chest at the knowledge of having a mark from him on my body. It's primal, it's a little weird, but I adore the idea and maybe he does too. After what he said to me about North on the flight to Nockfell, I'd guess he's more than happy to stake his claim even if it's invisible to the outside world.

Sal finally pulls his teeth from my leg, revealing a gnarly, dark purple mark in his wake. He places a quick, soothing kiss to the abused skin before trailing his way closer to my pussy. He masks his destination with more wet kisses and bites and I'm so worked up by now that a light sheen of sweat has formed on my forehead. I can't be doing this-- this is complete torture.

"Sal," I groan out, flinching at the sinful tone of my voice. It makes him pause his movements as well. "Please," I tack on, the word quiet and agonizingly pleading.

He hums against my skin, eyes zeroed in on mine. I hate being so direct, it's terrifying, but it's worth it if it'll end up with his tongue buried in me, right?

"Beg for it," he says lowly, a slight rasp to his voice. His tone makes me shiver, as well as his words and I would drop to my hands and knees if he told me to right now.

My lips part upon hearing him and I release a shaky breath, thighs drawing together until he stops them with his tight grip. My heart is running a marathon, my limbs are trembling and I'm wondering if maybe this is all just a really awesome dream.

"Please," I repeat, voice coming out as a whine. For once, I don't regret it because this is what he wants. "I'm desperate." I don't know how else to portray to him that I need this-- the wait is nearly excruciating. "I need to feel you."

Sal pulls away from my skin, tongue lapping at all of his bite marks before a sadistic smile pulls at his lips. "How much do you hate me?" And he's waiting, waiting for a wordy explanation of my distaste for him. But now, with the way things have changed between us-- even if it's slightly-- describing my loathing somehow feels harder.

So I snort, trying to coerce him into putting his mouth on me again regardless of the location. But all the shivers, waiting, and very slow building orgasm is slipping away into the distance. "A lot," I whisper shakily.

He gives me a look, eyes narrowed and lips pressed together as if I've disappointed him. "You can do better than that, Vi. Where's the fire?" He leans toward the thigh he hasn't captured with his mouth yet and skims his teeth along my skin. "Should I give you an example?"

I lick my lips, a sudden fluttering in my chest making me feel light headed. I hesitantly shake my head-- the longer he isn't paying attention to me, the farther I am from cumming. I can come up with something to say can't I? Of course I can. He's infuriating enough.

"Alright then," he mumbles monotonously, finally ditching my thighs. He yanks me a bit closer, eyes still rifling through my soul. "Then tell me. And if you stop," he warns as I swallow against the pounding in my chest due to his positioning, face mere inches from my sopping cunt. He's dragged this on long enough. "I stop. Keep that filthy mouth of yours moving."

He waits for me to launch into a monologue of detest. His mouth so close to my clit, breath tickling my skin and forcing a quiet little whimper from me.

"I fucking hate the constant foul mood you're always in," I force out, feeling my heart leap into my throat the second the words leave my mouth. Because Sal keeps his promise and with an inebriating grunt of approval, he finally attaches his lips to my clit, tongue running over it like he's desperate to soak up every inch of what I have to offer.

The feeling of his mouth on my pussy is incomparable to any other type of satisfaction in the world-- this is what I've waited for. And he happily makes up for the lost time, expertly flicking his tongue over the bundle of nerves and sucking it farther into his mouth. He moans against my cunt, hands dragging up my thighs to cup my ass and force me even closer to him. He squeezes my skin, a reminder to keep talking.

I dig up all the things I can't stand about him, slathering them across my brain so I can tell him about it. "You're a brick wall. No matter what I say, you refuse to listen. How come you're never open to hearing anyone out?" I whimper between words, squirming around on his desk and trying my damn hardest not to ruin any of his belongings.

Sal lifts my legs over his arms, pushing them onto his shoulders and I swear I'm about to combust. The way his tongue maps figure eights and circles around my clit does nothing to help, only sends me further toward falling apart.

I squeeze my eyes shut, fingers curling over the edge of his desk, heavy breaths and quiet moans falling past my lips no matter how badly I wish I could keep them inside. "You have some kind of God complex. You think you're right about everything, have to be in control of everything and I can't stand it. I can't stand you and your constant need to have everything you want."

His teeth graze over my clit and my mouth falls open, waves of pleasure rolling through my body like I've never experienced before. He moves downward, his tongue buried between my folds and licking up every bit of my arousal that he can get. Upon getting a better taste of me, he moans and I can feel the vibration of it everywhere, all the way up to my fingertips.

"I hate how easily you turn me on, how wet I get just from a simple touch," I admit, teeth clamping down onto my bottom lip as his tongue explores the inside of my pussy like he's been starved of me for far too long. His nails dig into my skin, the action eliciting a stinging sensation that only adds to the pleasure he's giving me. This is everything. "And you're so unfair. So pretty, so damn attractive with that horrible personality of yours. Why can't you be pretty through and through?"

I open my eyes again to watch him, drowning in the prospect of his face buried between my thighs, cheeks flushed and hair a mess. I watch as he drags his mouth up to my clit again, drawing patterns and shapes I don't care to know over the bundle of nerves. The rough, slick feeling of his tongue on such a sensitive place is addicting. So long as he's around to bring me to new heights like this, I don't need anything else. Maslow's hierarchy of needs has never been so wrong-- this is my sole need.

I can't help myself-- I reach a hand out, my fingers burying themselves into Sal's hair. It's soft. Just as soft as I knew it would be. And he doesn't seem to mind, only continues to suck on my clit and abuse it with his tongue. I close my hand into a fist, lightly tugging on his hair. I need something to hold onto.

"And your stupid fucking mouth," I groan out, sucking in a breath that never fully fills my lungs. His tongue dips into my pussy again, making another little groan follow my first. My thighs are clenched tightly at this point, quaking furiously. Sal never tries to stop me, doesn't calm me. It's clear how much he enjoys bringing me to ruin. "All the awful things you say, so many dirty words and you are so good with your tongue. I've never craved and loathed something so much in my life."

Sal smiles against my pussy-- I watch in pure amazement as the corners of his lips curl upward like what I said was everything he's always wanted to hear. It's so lewd, so perverted and I absolutely will never forget this moment.

One of his hands lets go of my ass, trailing down my thigh again but moving to the inside this time. As his teeth gently nip at my clit and his tongue laps at my pussy, the tips of his fingers press against my opening, a silent request for more of my profession of hatred. A profession I'm more than happy to give him.

"I can't imagine how much I'll hate the way you fuck me just because I know it'll be better than any sex I've had before," I tell him, watching his mouth move against my cunt with furrowed brows and my lips parted in intrigue. Oh, he's so good at what he does.

Sal's eyes meet mine again. Eye contact with him when he's in such an erotic position is incredibly intense. I feel like my entire body is going to crumple before he can finish me off and it all counts on if he's able to hold me up or not. But as soon as his cerulean gaze meets mine, two of his fingers sink into me. The action is slow, drawn out, and drags a nasty moan out of me in turn.

Sal whimpers against my pussy, taking care of me like he promised he would. When his fingers reach as far as they can go, he curls them, causing me to flinch at the sensuous feeling. There's so much going on to the point that every inch of my body feels impossibly overwhelmed.

My sensitive clit gets sucked into Sal's mouth again, but then he pulls away. His fingers make up for the absence of his tongue, pounding into me in the same salacious way he's done before.

"Is that all you've got?" he grumbles breathlessly, glazed eyes glaring into mine. This is the expression I'm used to with him-- anger and dominance.

I choke on the breath I try to take, my thighs pressing into his neck as his fingers slam in and out of my soaked cunt, digits only pausing their relentless pace to curl into me. I try to fight against my one working brain cell, try to form words for him, but-- "I can't." is all that I'm able to create, the two short words coming out as an imploring cry.

Sal stands, finger-fucking me into an alternate dimension. He hovers over me, his hair brushing my shoulders and neck. I watch him, an absolute mess beneath him but I can't look away-- even through the panting breaths that morph into whimpers and moans.

His eyes glance between mine, seemingly contemplating something in that meticulous mind of his.

"Yea, you can, gorgeous," he grinds out behind clenched teeth, using the hand that's gripping my ass to press me against his chest. Our even closer proximity somehow forces his fingers deeper into my pussy, his thumb rubbing my clit. "Tell me more." My mouth is dry, I'm going to cum soon, and hopefully I don't actually fall over before that.

Sal takes a page out of my book, leaning closer to me and nipping at the skin of my throat. A little gasp falls past my lips and I finally let go of his hair, dragging my hand down to his neck. Those fingers work me to the core, never ceasing their movements and pushing into me with so much perfectly applied force.

His mouth moves along the side of my neck, his lips still wet from my juices. I have no idea what gave him the confidence, but I'm not mad. Everything that couldn't be done with his prosthetic can be done now and he's taking advantage of it. "Speak," he snaps, tone not so gentle or comforting like it was when this first began. "Or else."

My mind is blank. "I'm about to cum," I begrudgingly whisper, completely overtaken by his fingers thrusting into me and his thumb focused on my oversensitive clit.

I shut my eyes, my free arm wrapping around his shoulders. Every inch of my body is tense, senses heightened and alert. I don't think I can possibly hold on any longer-- I doubt Sal needed my confirmation to tell that I'm close.

His digits curl into me again, repeating the action. I follow up with a loud whimper, my nails digging into the skin of his neck as he sucks on the skin behind my ear. I wish he'd have ditched the prosthetic sooner because I've really been missing out.

The hand still gripping onto my butt retreats to my stomach, fingers disappearing under my shirt and crawling across my ribs to my bra. He treats it as if it isn't even there, hand easily dipping beneath the fabric. His palm envelops my breast, squeezing gently and massaging the skin. It's such a considerate touch compared to the way he treats the rest of my body-- he knows exactly where the sweet spots are.

"Cum," he commands, lips brushing the shell of my ear and fingers pounding into my sore cunt, thumb running over my hardened nipple.

My head drops onto his shoulder and with one more curl of his fingers, I do as he says and fall apart in his arms. I burst almost instantly, doing anything to keep myself silent over the feeling of his fingers gently caressing the inside of my pussy, riding me through my orgasm just like he did the first time. My teeth sink into his shoulder, a muffled whimper following soon after. Sal tenses up in my arms, a pleasured breath falling from his mouth and fanning over the side of my neck.

"Good girl," he purrs into my ear, lips skimming over the warm skin at my throat. He leaves one more sloppy kiss to my neck then pulls away to look into my eyes again. I can hardly hear anything he says as my teeth are forced away from his shoulder, still reeling from the orgasm that slammed into me nearly unannounced. My limbs feel like jelly as chills run up my spine. "You listen to me so well," he continues. I can't even look into his eyes; I just watch the way his lips move. How his tongue presses into the back of his teeth to pronounce a syllable. His sharp canines that undoubtedly left their own bruises on my skin.

I gulp, unable to peel my eyes away from the mouth that masterfully brought me to climax. For the first time ever, I wonder what his mouth would feel like against mine. How soft his scarred lips would feel, not on my skin, but captured by my own. What his tongue would taste like. What his teeth would feel like nipping at my lips.

Sal doesn't move away from me-- keeps our close proximity with his nose nearly brushing my mask's. He slowly, delicately pulls his fingers out of me but only continues to gaze into my eyes.

This is dangerous territory. Very dangerous. Because the impossible is coursing through me right now and I... somehow can't find it in me to hate him in this exact moment.

But then he blinks. Stands to his full height, moving away from me. His azure gaze turns to the desk I'm sitting on and he grabs my panties, offering them to me. Not an ounce of emotion evident on his face. I'd always wondered what he'd look like simply because I was curious if his face gave away his emotions better than his eyes could. It's pretty impressive how he's able to keep a straight mug though, RBF and all. Especially when he lifts the hand he fingered me with to his mouth and licks my cum off. He doesn't even look at me as his tongue runs up the length of his digit, just turns away from me and walks to the other side of the room.

I'm floored, jaw dropped and pussy wet. Again. That's really fucking hot.

I watch him strut away, follow his movements as he drops to his haunches and opens up his suitcase with his clean hand. He grabs something then faces me again, beginning to walk back with a finger still in his mouth.

My chest tightens at the sight. He can't be doing this to me. Not when Larry is going to be home any minute-- he needs to keep both his hands at his sides.

Thankfully, Sal has some mercy on me and finally finishes cleaning his fingers, eyes darting up to mine again. He walks up to me, right where I'm still sitting on top of his desk and drops fabric onto my bare thighs.

My brows furrow and I look down, grabbing lace. I lift it up, unfolding it to see that it's a near replica of the lace underwear he'd ripped off of me in Vegas. Only it's a completely brand new pair. No rips, no issues. My heart swells a bit at the gesture-- he bought a new pair like I'd told him to. I wasn't even serious, but he did it anyway.

I puff out my cheeks, contemplating what to say. Thank you's are virtually nonexistent between us. My eyes flit up to meet his again and he stuffs his hands into his pockets, watching me.

"You taste good," he nonchalantly comments, causing an infuriating blush to heat my cheeks.

"Thanks," I murmur, holding up the lace panties to show that I'm thankful for them too. "You taste pretty good too." He does. I'll have to return the favor to him when I get the chance.

A barely audible snort comes from him and I almost smile.

"I'd fuck you, but Larry will be back any minute and Ash probably isn't far behind him," he says, turning on his heel and walking toward the door. "I suggest you put your clothes back on. Panties are clean, I washed them."

My eyebrows raise and I pinch my lips together. Huh. "How kind of you," I say half sarcastically. Only half because it's helpful that they are clean-- it's almost like he knew he'd place me in a predicament where I needed fresh underwear. "You trying to kick me out?" I add. Of course he is, I'm just trying to make my way out of here as awkward-less as possible.

"Hell yea," he says proudly, "I have shit to do."

"Are you calling me a distraction?" I ask, looking toward him as I shimmy my underwear and shorts up my legs then start working on the button.

Sal tilts his head, hand on the doorknob. "And a mild aggravation."

"Oh, wow," I gasp, feigning surprise. "Mild? I must be working my way onto your good side."

"Fuck me good enough and we'll see how far you get," he replies, eyes watching my every move but face still unreadable as I begin walking toward him.

I roll my eyes. Of course. I pinch my lips together and give him a disinterested look. This is my lesson to never try to have a casual conversation with him again. He clearly doesn't want it, which, fair. Our agreement is sex, not friendship. "Okay," I say dramatically when he opens the door for me. "Bye, Sal."

The man nods his head, acknowledging the shift in the room. His eyes stay glued to mine like they have been the entire time I've been here. Now that I'm not distracted by his mouth on my pussy, I realize that this is an odd thing for him to do. He looks at me every once in a while, but not in such a... scrutinizing way.

He purses his lips and says, "Bye, y/n."

Every nerve-ending in my body suddenly shuts off. Everything is still. I have no thoughts for a moment, no physical reaction. Just stillness. I don't breathe, I don't move. I just watch him.

There's no way— he has to have mixed up my names. It has to be that.

And then everything hits me. Sal Fisher just said my name. And not the fake one that I've been hiding behind. He said my actual name— the one that's on my birth certificate. And now my hands are shaking, my heart is racing, my breaths are uneven, and I feel like I'm going to throw up.

"What the fuck," I say shakily. I'm not ready for this. I'm going to completely switch his thought process around-- "did you just say?"

The look in his eyes changes, they light up a bit as if he's caught me. And still he decides to mess with me. "Huh?" he innocently asks.

Okay, I'd really like to wake up now.

My eyes narrow. So that's the game he wants to play? This isn't the time and I don't have the mental capacity to handle this. Not only am I recovering from a mind-blowing orgasm, but I was just getting over the overwhelming anxiety I suffered from yesterday.

"I'm not y/n, if that's what you're thinking," I rush to tell him, even adding in the fakest little smirk I've ever slapped onto my face. Anything to get him off my tail, whatever I can think of to save my ass. This really can't be happening to me.

He's still watching me speculatively and it's making my brain itch. "You know," he finally starts, voice disgustingly pleased. "I went out on a limb with that one." I watch in horror as a little smirk begins to grow on his face. I don't want to accept it yet, I really don't, but I think I'm fucked and not physically.

At the end of the day, he's still managed to fuck me in multiple ways. I cannot stand Sal Fisher.

"What are you even talking about?" I ask him, clearing my throat quietly while taking a safe step out of his door and into the living room. I try my best to keep my eyes on him while extinguishing the fear from my gaze. If I act horrified, he'll sniff me out instantly. That is, if he hasn't already.

Sal chuckles deeply— it's, shockingly, an amused and prideful one rather than something sick, dark, and twisted. He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. I try my best not to adore the way his scars stretch with his laugh and the sight of his pretty teeth. "Any other woman would have assumed I was sleeping with someone else if I called them by another name," he says lightheartedly, tilting his head down a bit. "But you didn't. And that can only mean that I'm right."

I open my mouth to decline, fear thrumming through me. He caught me red handed. I can't fucking believe this.

"And don't try to deny it, you won't change my mind. I've been very sure of who you are for months now."

My head slowly begins to shake of its own accord. He never fails to shock me. "How..."

Sal shrugs. "You couldn't have timed your introduction more horrendously. Think about it," he says, chewing on his bottom lip. "I bitch at y/n over a phone call, then the next day, a wild VioletViolence pops into my life and isn't too surprised by my shitty personality. The second you were added to the Discord server, I had my suspicions." He shrugs nonchalantly, like the confirmation doesn't bother him in the slightest. "I talked it over with Larry and Todd too. They're pretty sure of your identity as well. They were just nice enough to wait for you to tell us on your own." His eyes narrow, sly like a fox. "But I'm not nice and wanted to know for myself. Wanted to scare you a bit too."

I swallow over the bile rising in my throat. Scare me, he did. I have no idea what to do with myself. I must look like a deer in headlights nearing its death sentence. "It... it doesn't bother you?" I decide to ask in a small voice, unable to blink as I watch him closely.

That same smug little smile is still lighting up his marred face as he says, "Regardless, I still can't stand you and I'll still fuck you stupid."

-----------

A/N::::::: OMFFGGGGG I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS CHAPTER FOR AGESSSSSS PLEASE!!! more specifically the end of it! i've had this last scene written since like... 2022 o_O

i want to give a HUGE thanks to my very good friend, Phoebe, who inspired me to write the catalyst of the smut scene with this AMAZING piece of art that they drew :3 i am soooo so grateful for having the opportunity to see the art in general, but getting to write it too??? OMG so incredibly grateful <33

side note: this is my first time writing a smut scene like this one-- well, actually any time i write a different kind of sex it's new for me LMFAO i am exploring EVERYTHINGGGG and i also have no idea if this is any good. so like last chapter, if y'all could give me some tips or things you like and didn't like, i would GREATLY appreciate it :3

i'm going catch up on my neglected homework. as always, have a wonderful morning/day/evening/night. my heart belongs to all of you <3

#sal fisher #sally face #larry johnson #ash campbell #todd morrison #travis phelps #enemies to lovers #sally face fandom #sally face fanfiction #fanfic #smut

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thevestigeofvanillaan · 1 year

Note

OK SO CONSIDER

you mentioned that stan would want to make a sex tape?? think about him finding your only fans and going crazy bc he thinks it’s so hot but doesn’t know how to bring it up to you/ask to be in it

also i love ur account so much 🙏🙏

aw thank you honey🍯♥! i can imagine you and stan are colleagues at your office job that you mostly do for community service but you get money from it so.. i have two ideas for this but i think this one makes more sense so i hope you like it my lovely.

The two of you manage to get somewhat close for the amount of differences you share; you didn't have much in common.

One night when Stan was really horny and couldn't get off. He'd been masturbating for a good half hour so he decided to try watching porn. Deciding to go on to only fans he started to browse and noticed there was an account that was live and had someone who looked oddly familiar on the cover.

He clicks on it to see your face, your naked body, and your voice that's talking to these pervs. But he couldn't help but drool over you. Watching your face as you play with yourself using a vibrator; how wet you were late at night.

No one would've taken you to be a slut like that, at least not Stan.

He'd watch you and masturbate to your image, feeling closer and closer to his release because "Oh you're so hot, fuck.." .

Once he'd finished, he'd send you 100 dollars and go to sleep.

The next day you'd wonder to yourself why Stan was avoiding even looking at you.

"Stan?" You're in the door frame, knocking on it since his door was already open.

"Uh.. yeah?" Stan doesn't look at you, in face he looks at anything else but you.

"I have these papers for you.." You hand them to him and he takes them. "Are you okay? Did I do something to make you, I don't know, mad at me maybe?"

And it was then that he looked at you and immediately felt his cock twitch in his jeans, all the blood flowing to it.

"No." He nods up at you before standing up. "No, I'm not mad at you, sweetheart."

You smirk, "Then why wouldn't you look at me until now?" You take his hand into yours, "I'd hope I wouldn't have upset you and not made up for it, Stan.."

"Yeah? Well, you already did make up for the nothing you did in the first place." Stan shrugs and walks off with the papers towards the copy room.

"What do you mean?" You ask, following him there and watching as he rolls up his button up's sleeves to reveal his slightly hairy and tan forearms.

He looks at you to see you watching him and smirks, looking back down to what he was doing. "I mean.. you never did anything to make me mad at you, but you helped me last night."

"With what?" You try to think to when you were with Stan last night but you weren't.

Stan chuckles, "34 minutes.. took me two when I found your face on that dirty old site." He whispers in a hoarse, though attractive voice and your face instantly grows red.

You giggle and make eye contact with him, "Dis you like it?"

"Uhuh." Stan nods. "Gotta question for you though, sweetheart."

"Uhuh?"

"Mind if I join you sometime in your little shows?"

#vanillaan #stan marsh south park #stan marsh x reader #stan marsh smut #stan x reader #stan marsh #south park smut #south park x reader #south park

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zuureleena · 8 months

Text

i drew the mercs, miss pauling, admin, and my tf2 oc on the plane to uni 😭

i did all of these a week ago and completely forgot to post them HAJAHAH miss p, the admin, and a rlly simplified ver of my tf2 oc miss lynn!! (zoey lynn hehe + js rambles abt her) under the cut

IM ACTUALLY REWORKING HER DESIGN RNNNN bcs i made her on the sims 4 LMAO and realised how much better and concise she looked, but i really wanna try and make her look like someone you'd js see irl? sooOOo tryna make her also recognisable from silhouette alone and blahablahblah tho she isn't the kind of character that would rlly make too much of a difference in the tf2 universe

i js wanted to make a loveable character LMAO who'd have more of an impact on the relationships and kinda the story?

i liked the idea of miss p having an extroverted bestfriend who's also her wingwoman bcs miss pauling is obvs an awkward lesbian mess who needs help in the love department, and vice versa bcs zoey is into scout and miss pauling is js so glad to have him move on n realise that they r better as friends!! and that he needs to be with someone who isn't annoyed by him 24/7 (IM SORRY, LWNAKS MY SELF-INSERTEDNESS GOT IN THE WAY HAHAHAHA I CANT HELP IT) also, i haven't rlly thought of any orientation for zoey... i'm thinking of her js being a het woman or js whatever u wanna interpret her as!! cuz her sexuality isn't a core thing abt her

she's an absolute harbinger of chaos who'd do anyt for money and some company (this girl has been hella lonely n stressed out of her mind and i'll explain why in an oc post🤭🤭) and even tho she never outright admits it, she does enjoy the freedom of violence she gets to have as a mann co assistant 😭 (which will ALSO make sense when i explain her background to u guys later on)

and bcs of her long experience w shady bosses and asshole customers she's had to deal within all the jobs she's had, she catches onto the administrator's whole thing with the australium fairly early into the job, but she's in tooooo deep now and is like "damn. do i get myself out of this fucked up job (that i am fucked up enough to actually enjoy) or do i stay bcs i literally have everything i've ever wanted....shit." like,, she did say she'd do anyt for money but at the cost of what 😭 [also MAN i wish we got that final comic so i can js make zoey's suspicions make sense??!?@ but in a way it js works bcs it's js this massive mystery that we don't even know of ourselves???? so likeee, im js assuming its smth rlly dangerous or smth bcs helen literally goes to the most insane lengths to get australium and finish off her final... thingy.. that uh DEBT is it... i forgot what she called it BUT WHATEVER BUSINESS SHE HAD TO ATTEND TO B4 SHE DIED QOABJASH]

OH AND YEAH, zoey hates how bossy the admin is and is an ass abt it at times, and the admin wants zoey gone so badly bcs shes an annoying little shit (which she is and honestly, her and scout can be annoying shits tgt <3) but miss p always convinces her to keep zoey BAGAHAHA and they do get things done much faster w zoey there sooOoOOo 🌝🤭

i mean she does try to kill both miss p & l anyway but still, she can't deny that they r both good at what they do

BWOSBQJS BYE I DONT THINK ANYONE IS GONNA READ THIS AHAGAH BUT THANK YOU IF U DID 😭 I HAVE SM ABT ZOEY AND I RLLY WANT HER TO BE LOVEABLE AUGHWGS

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #team fortress 2 fanart #tf2 fanart #tf2 memes #tf2 mercs #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #tf2 engineer #tf2 medic #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #tf2 miss pauling #tf2 administrator #tf2 oc

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lowkeyrobin · 3 months

Note

Hello I was wondering if you’d be able to write a Ranboo x Gender neutral reader, and they both just got into a heated argument that left them both crying (only if you’re comfortable with writing something like this, I’d not I completely understand, also thank you for your concern, I really appreciate it) :)

honestly struggled to find smthn to make an argument out of but I think I got something! oneshots are a little difficult for me bc I get burned out and I think the actions but can't find the right words LMAOOOO ; but this is totally find to request dw!! and of course, if you ever need to talk my messages are always open 🫶🫶🫶 ; also istg I have other ranboo headers they're just in my drafts bc I've only been working on reqs lately LMFAO

RANBOO ; burnout

summary ; youre both burned out and stressed, and take it out on each other

warnings ; language, fighting, reader is described/talked about as a writer, angry mischaracterization (it makes sense in context trust me)

word count ; 1.4k

masterlist

Both you and Ranboo had been working your asses off recently.

They had themselves so tied down to content creation that it was becoming a personal prison cell. It was like everything he did was only to appease his fans, and he didn't know how to just calm down and slow things down for his well being. From the constant, long streams to the talks with merch and production teams, it never ended. Plus, the infinite cycle of scrolling online to see all the hate they received, it was becoming too much.

You, on the other hand, constantly kept working and working through the lack of motivation and burnout with no breaks. No matter how much people reassured you that you could take a break and you didn't have to stick to a schedule, it didn't do anything. You were determined to fill out each and every request even if you barely had any idea what you were doing, you'd stay up late trying to block out what to write and how to put it into words to appease your followers. Three times a day, seven days a week, every day of the month, about 2000 posts a year, if you kept that up.

You were dedicated to writing, you loved it, and you loved that you were able to turn something you loved into a job considering "real" jobs didn't work out for you. You had streaming, but you only did that if you were writing or needed ideas or help every once in a while and wanted to share any progress and whatnot. Your eyes tended to be bloodshot on the regular, being pulled down by saggy, dark eyebags.

You trudge into the kitchen, taking a cold bowl of mac and cheese and some water back to your office with you. Ranboo glares at you from the couch, holding his phone to his ear as he talks to some big guy with money, most likely. He doesn't say anything, but you notice the look on his face, his eyes glaring daggers into you as you walk away.

You sit back down at your chair, not even touching your food. You stare at the screen, your eyes slightly protected by the dark mode you'd reinforced on the website. Your mind was blank, empty, vacant, muddled. There were no thoughts behind your glazed eyes.

Your head pounded in pain, caused by all the blue light absorption you'd been taking in recently. God, Ran hated that. How you'd fucking complain of a headache and only do everything to worsen it. It pissed him off. It made him want to yell at you to just shut up about it, considering you didn't want to do anything to help yourself.

You type away at the keyboard once more, every button press causing a little click or clack to immerse from it. The keys light up a particular shade of white, a smooth wave like pattern glazing across it once more. You stop again, unable to finish the sentence once more.

You groan and lean back in your seat, feeling the utter disgust around you. You oh so desperately needed to sit in the shower and cry, considering your stress and pain, but you couldn't. You needed to make these people happy, you owed them. You owed them for giving you a stable job and a roof over your head, the least you could do was have their requests out within a few days.

You sit and ponder about your partner. You were sure there was no love left anymore. Both of you were too financially dependent on one another to up and leave, so it had to work for now.

Ranboo, now not on the phone, nearly slams the door of your office open, smelling the ice cold pasta you hadn't even touched a few feet away. He's quick to raise his voice with a stern tone, pissed off at you once again.

"Dude, I told you dinner was ready an hour ago, what the fuck? And then you just bring it in here and don't even touch it just to stare at the damn screen some more? Are you fucking kidding?"

You roll your eyes, not wanting to deal with this again. "Fuck's it matter? This is my job, Ranboo"

"Your job isn't to please everyone who acts nice to you. Your job is to write quality content and not complain about burning yourself out or headaches that you could easily solve by touching grass! Go outside, this isn't even a job. You don't do anything other than write some stupid fantasy all day and feed into people's delusions, Y/n!" He quickly rants, scoffing at the end.

"Holy shit, you're one to talk! Meh meh, meh, I'm so miserable, and I do all these long streams for my fans, and I treat my partner like shit because I never spend time with them and enable their unhealthy behaviors! I take out my anger on them because I'm a lonely asshole." You quickly spit back, standing up from your chair.

They scoff, stepping towards you a bit, "You're so pathetic, I never want to hear you come to me with your problems again. You're dependent on me. You barely get any money off of that, let alone any to pay rent or buy your own groceries. Get into the real world where talking to fancy businessmen and actually working for your money is all you do! Walk in my shoes for one day!"

You roll your eyes again and scoff, "You don't think this is an actual job? I could say the same to you! You play video games all fucking day and beg for Twitch subs! Just because you have a fancy merch line and have some stupid show you're working on doesn't make you all high and mighty and more important than anyone else!"

"It does, actually, you have no room to complain! If you need a break, you can go take it. My schedule is busy every hour of the day, I have no time to do shit! You're an overbearing, selfish asshole!"

Now that got the waterworks going, that's what got you beyond the point of just petty arguing to genuinely fighting. You have no room to complain, yet you spend all day just trying to make people happy and not hate you, to just pump content out and pretend like you're okay. You bottle up your emotions so he won't have to worry about you, yet you're overbearing and selfish.

"You are such a fucking asshole! Everything needs to be about you, doesn't it? Every single fucking thing in the world, huh? Fine, screw you" You turn to grab the bowl of food, and quickly, out of sheer anger, throw it at him, shattering the ceramic bowl. "I hope I never see you again, go fuck yourself. You don't deserve shit of what you have, your platform, your friends, your money, anything. I hope your whole online empire comes crumbling down and you're left with nothing"

You snatch up your phone, wallet, and keys, quickly stomping past him as tears drip down your cheeks. He stands there, appalled as tears well in his glassy eyes. He tries to chase you outside once he realizes you're serious, but you'd already slammed the door so hard it might as well have fallen off the hinges. He wipes his eyes, cheeks a light red due to the sheer amount of anger he felt in the moment. He was soaked in cold mac and cheese, ruining his white hoodie.

Once the adrenaline wasn't coursing through his veins anymore, he sits himself on the kitchen floor, the cold tile against his hands being used as a grounding technique. Some ceramic dust lays on his shoes, some liquid cheese being smeared against his hoodie as he tries to use a towel to wipe the access off.

Fuck, what did he just do?

He sits in silence, rethinking the situation as tears slowly stream down his face.

He could only hope that you were safe on that bus to nowhere. That bus you used to just go anywhere but home, just to escape the horrible life you lived inside that house. The house that bound you to its walls so you couldn't escape.

You couldn't escape the pain of your popular online presence or the pain of being trapped in that house any longer. Finally, it broke, the enchantment that kept you sealed inside.

Someone had to leave, and it looked like it was going to be you this time around.

#lowkeyrobin #mcyt x reader #mcyt preferences #mcyt oneshot #tommyinnit x reader #ranboo x reader #tubbo x reader #ranboo oneshot #ranboo imagine #gn reader #gender neutral reader #they/them reader

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its-time-to-write · 7 months

Text

this is 100% self indulgent. no one asked for this except me and I have zero excuse for how it turned out. i have no defense, no witty rebuttal, no nothing. i wrote this because i wanted to, and at the very least i hope this inspires someone to write their borderline-self-insert fic and post it publicly.

this fic is set after season 3. enjoy😂

(oh now might also be a good time to mention how much I love Man City. bc it’s a lot.)

can’t hear my thoughts (i cannot hear my thoughts)

Calling Lake Como beautiful is like saying space is big. It’s true for sure, but it feels like an understatement. It’s June and the weather is absolutely gorgeous, perfect for the wedding you’re attending. It’s for two good friends of yours, and it’s going to be a party full of football royalty. You’re mostly excited to see friends who are WAGs from other teams who you’ve connected with over the past year and a half.

Oh, and you suppose it will be a nice vacation with Jamie, too.

You’re staying at a beautiful hotel that’s been open since 1910, and you swear you’ll never stay somewhere as beautiful again.

“Getting ideas for the house?” Jamie teases, and it sends a thrill down your spine with the way he refers to his house as your collective home.

You grin as he spins you around the Suite Greta. Everything is golden, from the drapes to the pillows to the sun catching on his face.

“No,” you reply, “but maybe for a vacation home?”

Jamie laughs as he catches you up in his arms. “I could see us here in the next off-season. Not sure we’d get out much,” he muses and you wrap your arms around him as tight as they can go.

You’re here for a full week but Isaac’s wedding is only one day. You and Jamie have plans to see everyone who’s in town, as well as have some time to yourself.

“Sasha wants to go out for dinner tonight,” you tell Jamie as he unpacks his suitcase.

“Girls only, or will Jack be there?”

“Let’s see,” you hum as you scan the group chat. “Isabel said she and Erling will be there, so looks like it’s a couple’s thing. That’ll be fun, right?” you ask with just a hint of anxiety. Jamie and Jack are friends, they’ve run in the same circles for years, but you’re not sure how he’s going to feel about being outnumbered two to one, City to Richmond, at dinner.

“As long as Rodri ain’t there, I’m fucking chuffed,” he says as he lays out his suit on the bed.

“Chuffed? Is that a thing you say now?” you ask, flat on your back on the bed.

“Yep,” he replies. “I’m posh now, babe. Sorry you Americans can’t do it as well as we Brits.”

“I have it on good authority that we do it very well,” you smirk. “But I don’t think that’s something you’ll get to experience tonight. I haven’t seen Sash or Isa in ages, so we’ll probably talk for a long time and then I’ll be tired when we get back to the room.”

Jamie groans. “You’re sadistic, woman. The shit you put me through.”

You smile and remind him, “You’re the one who picked me, remember?”

—

Jamie is technically the one who picked you. You had just moved from America to London, got a temp job at a Richmond FC, and the rest is history. You don’t work at Richmond anymore, haven’t for a while, as you’ve been able to start your own thing in between attending matches and events and whatever else Jamie’s invited to. Being Jamie’s girlfriend is a full-time job on its own, and he definitely spoils you beyond what you’re used to. He’s the one who bought your dress for the wedding and it freaked you out just a little bit until you called Sasha (an angel, by the way) who laughed and talked you off the ledge.

“Comes with the territory, babe. They’re just boys with more money than they know what to do with. Jack’d buy me the moon if he could figure out how. Enjoy it. It’s been a while since anyone’s seen Tartt this happy.”

So you do. You had been living together for almost a year now so you’d think that a dress wouldn’t push you over the edge, but there you go. You’re trying to be calmer about it. It’s better ever since you met Sasha and Isabel.

You had been stuck in a room while Jamie talked to his old manager, and they had noticed your deer-in-the-headlights expression. You’re right in the middle of the two, age-wise, and from similar enough backgrounds.

“Here’s my number. Come over to my flat tomorrow for brunch. We’ll get you settled, babes,” Sasha had said. You went and it had been amazing to finally make real friends, even if they were technically on the opposing team.

You’re excited to see them, excited for Isaac to finally get married, and excited to spend a full seven days with Jamie by your side. It’s going to be the best.

—

You enter the venue arm-in-arm with Jamie, practically dancing across the grass. The sun’s shining and there are all sorts of people you know and love. It feels a little surreal to be here.

Earlier, back in the room, you had slipped into your dress carefully to avoid getting makeup stains on the front. The skirt fell just at your knees and puffed out ever so slightly, with thick straps instead of regular sleeves so you could fully enjoy the warm weather.

“Do a spin,” he had said, voice full of glee. You’d acquiesced, twirling around to let the blue tile print billow out before he caught you, kissing your shoulder so as not to ruin your makeup.

Now, you’re holding onto him and trying not to wrinkle his linen suit when you hear someone shout your name.

“Sasha!” you screech, running toward her as best you can with your shoes on the grass. You squeeze each other into a tight hug, uncaring about about the state of her hot pink dress.

“Hey man,” Jack says to Jamie, who grins and shakes his hand. “You’d think they haven’t seen each other in fucking ages.”

“It’s been twelve hours,” you say. “And before that it’s been like two months. Anyway, don’t you two have some football to discuss or something? Or headbands? Or-”

“Really short socks,” Sasha helpfully supplies.

Jamie shakes his head. “Fuck off, Attwood.”

“Fuck you, Tartt,” she replies.

“Oi, you two wouldn’t even be friends if it weren’t for me. You could be a little nicer,” Jamie says.

“Oh is that Hughes?” Jack asks before either Sasha or Jamie can escalate. Their entire friendship is based off sniping one another and neither you nor Jack are particularly in the mood for it today.

Jamie turns to look. “Oh mint, looks like things are starting. You saved us seats?”

“Yeah, with Haaland and Isabel,” Sasha returns, linking her arm through yours. “C’mon, did you get yourself a parasol?”

—

It’s the most beautiful wedding you’ve ever been to. Stella looks stunning in her gown, Isaac stoically sobs his eyes out while Colin surreptitiously hands him a tissue. Even Roy seems to be having a good time, but then again Keeley once told you that he “really fucking loves weddings.” You hadn’t believed her, but his lips are in a straight line instead of a frown so maybe she was right.

There’s a group of City and Richmond players together, and it’s a little strange to see how friendly they are off the pitch. Dani is explaining something with lots of hand gestures to Phil while the rest of the group jokes around.

Sasha sneaked you and Isabel away to get drinks for yourselves and you were about to get away unnoticed when Erling caught Isabel’s arm and asked for a drink too, so now you’re ordering for your boyfriends as well as yourselves.

You don’t really care, there’s a part of you that’s reveling in the sheer joy of being young and hot. Sue you.

“Cosmo, please,” you say while the girls order drinks of their own. Sasha raises an eyebrow so you shrug and say, “Jamie likes what he likes.”

She rolls her eyes and scoffs “Tartt,” but it’s with the affection of an older sister so you elbow her and ask, “What did Jack want?”

She makes a face. “Heineken. He also likes what he fuckin’ likes.”

You wheeze out a laugh as Isabel comes to join you. She smiles as she sips from something lavender colored in a martini glass. She cuts an elegant figure in her yellow, billowy dress. You smooth your dress and open your mouth to say something when a voice calls your name. You look to see your ex walking up, hand-in-hand with his wife. You know, the one he left you for.

“Jake,” you say in surprise. God, you need your brain to form coherent thoughts right now. “What are you doing here?”

He grins, far too wide and goofy to be real. Not like Jamie, you think.

“Oh, you know, Emma’s loosely related to the bride on her dad’s side. She asked for an invite, so here we are. Who are you here for? Bride or groom?”

“Both, actually,” you reply automatically. Jake’s words are grating, not so much in content as they are in tone. He always had a way of saying things condescendingly, like everyone else was a stupid little kid.

“Oh,” he says in what you think is supposed to be surprise, “that’s funny. I didn’t know you knew anyone out here. You’ve been living in England all alone, right?”

Emma just hovers by Jake’s shoulder. She’s not contributing anything to this conversation except a snooty little smirk.

“No,” you say. “I’m not alone. This is Isabel, by the way.” You look around for Sasha, but she’s disappeared. Smart girl.

Isa doesn’t extend her hand. “Nice to meet you,” she says and Jake takes her at her word. He puffs up his chest a little bit as he asks, “Where are you from? You don’t sound British.”

“We’re from Norway,” a voice behind her says. “I’m Erling.”

Sasha has reappeared with Jack, Erling, and Jamie in tow. You mentally congratulate her with a well done, Sash as you feel Jamie’s arm loop around your waist.

He feels like a solid wall against your back, a glimmer in an otherwise garbage moment.

Jake takes stock of the three men who are looking at him with less-than friendly stares. You’re not sure what Sasha told them, but you’re absolutely positive Jamie recognizes Jake. You can practically feel the hairs on his arm bristling.

Jake finishes his assessment and deems it appropriate to talk. “So, how do you all know each other?”

Jamie scoffs and looks away, while Jack stares at Jake like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

You wonder what it is with your affinity for J-names.

“We’re footballers,” Erling says before anyone can take more offense.

“Premier League footballers,” Jamie adds, as if it means anything to Jake.

Jake’s American, like you, and he’s never been much for sports anyway. He wouldn’t even recognize David Beckham if the man were standing under a poster of himself.

Jake says, “Right. Hey, weren’t you on one of those trashy dating shows?” and Jamie stiffens.

Sasha mutters, “Fuck’s sake,” under her breath as Erling and Isabel take pointed interest in something in the distance.

“No,” Jamie replies shortly. “The fuck were you talking to my girl?”

Jake looks to you in surprise. “Oh! You two are together? That’s… well, that’s… I guess I just didn’t expect her to be whoring around like that. But hey, move to another country and all morals go out the window, right?”

That’s the thing about Jake. He never speaks as if he’s actually trying to be offensive. He just says what’s on his mind. And you’re a little concerned that what’s on his mind is going to land Jamie (and quite possible Jack) in jail. Neither of them are especially known for backing down from a squabble. “Cut from the same cloth,” Pep was rumored to say.

“Fuck off, mate,” Jack interjects. “Just fuck off. Everyone here loves her, and you can’t talk about her like that.”

Your ex reevaluates the situation at hand and decides the best thing to do would be to take Emma’s hand and walk away.

“Strange that his wife does not speak,” Erling remarks.

You grimace. “You could’ve stopped at ‘strange.’ No idea what I ever saw in him.”

Jamie has a crushing grip on your waist so you wiggle a bit to get him to loosen up.

“Prick,” he mutters. “How the fuck did he even get here, anyway? He’s in fucking America.”

“His wife’s loosely related to Stella. They asked for an invite,” Isabel volunteers.

Jamie rolls his eyes. “Oi, if he tries to talk to you again, I’ll grab Roy and we’ll fucking kill him.”

“Yeah, ‘cause McAdoo’s never been above a little violence at a party,” Jack grins.

You return his smile and say, “Thanks, but I’m pretty sure his mother-in-law would kill you.”

Erling huffs out a laugh. “Never a dull moment in the Premier League, is there?”

Isabel grins and loops her arm through his. “I’m tired of all this,” she says. “Let’s go dancing. There’s a band and we don’t have to think about anything other than celebrating, yes?”

“God yes,” says Sasha.

Jamie still looks murderous, but you squeeze his hand once and whisper, “I’m fine, babe. It’s fine.”

He looks like he wants to argue, but he lets you pull him along to the dance floor with the group.

—

There are so many people that you don’t even catch a glimpse of Jake and Emma. You’re not sure what they’re up to, and fairly certain they don’t know anyone else here. You on the other hand, are living your best life as Jamie sings along to “Ain’t No Mountain.” He’s swinging your arms around as he sways in time to the music. You just let him lead you however he wants. The song ends and he presses his lips to your ear so you can hear him over the sheer volume of everyone talking. “D’you want a drink? I can go get you something.”

You nod and mouth my usual, please, so he salutes and begins weaving his way through the crowd. You watch him as long as you can before spinning back around with a smile.

A smile that quickly fades when you realize Emma is right in front of you.

She says, “Cute dress,” and for a moment, you believe she’s being sincere but then she follows it up with, “Did you borrow it from your grandma’s closet? I’ve seen people do that.”

Right, because grandmas are known for wearing dresses like this.

“What? No, Jamie got it for me,” you say.

“Oh cute, is it from Walmart? I think I saw something like it there last week.”

Emma is trying to draw blood. You suppose she’s taking her shot now as opposed to back then because she thinks there’s no one around to call her out. No one who knows her.

You say, “They don’t have Walmart here,” instead of “It’s Dolce & Gabbana,” because the second phrase would make you sound like a prick. There’s a part of you that wants to be a prick, though, wants to channel that part of Jamie that’s ruthless, vicious and cruel, messing with the opposition before he cuts them down.

The first time you saw it, it was hard to believe the Jamie on the pitch was the same Jamie who played with your hair while you cooked, or put a sticky note on his fridge titled “Babe,” detailing everything you’d ever said you liked.

Emma sees she’s not getting to you, so she changes tactics. “Must be hard being here without any friends,” she remarks. “All alone. And you’ve never been especially extraverted. Are those people the only ones here you know?”

God, Jamie, where are you?

You open your mouth to respond but are cut off by someone with a distinctly midwestern twang say, “I heard one of my favorite countrywomen was here.”

You turn to see Ted Lasso grinning at you in a black suit. It’s the same smile you remember, albeit his eyes are a little sharp. You’d bet anything he knows exactly what’s going on between you and Emma.

“Ted!” you smile as a rush of relief floods your system. You step into his arms for a hug as he says, “Hey, sweetheart. How’ve you been?”

“Oh, you know,” you say. “Kind of great, actually. I wondered if you were going to be here! Have you seen Jamie yet?”

Ted shakes his head. “Y’know, I haven’t. Why don’t we find him together?” He offers you an arm and you take it gratefully, choosing not to spare Emma a glance.

“She seems like a real bucket of laughs,” Ted remarks.

“You have no idea. That’s my ex’s wife.”

Whatever Ted thought you were going to say, he certainly wasn’t prepared for that. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before settling on a short, “Well I’ll be danged.”

You laugh and stand on tiptoes to try to see Jamie. You don’t see him, but you catch a glimpse of an especially tall, blond head.

“This way,” you tell Ted. You brush past Phil who smiles at you, past Colin and Michael, and past someone you’re pretty sure is a Beckham.

You make your way to Erling and Isabel as they dance to the music in their own corner.

You frown. “Have you seen Jamie?” you shout.

Isabel shakes her head. “He was looking for you,” she calls back.

“Oh,” you say, “Ted, this is Isabel and-”

“Erling Haaland,” Ted says, hand outstretched. “Pleasure to meet you, son. Big fan of the way you play the game.”

You miss Erling’s response, startled by a hand on your shoulder. You turn to see Sam standing behind you.

“Sam!” you exclaim with a grin, “You look so handsome!”

Sam returns your grin and strikes a pose. “I’ve been sent on a very important mission. I am to retrieve you and bring you to Jamie and I am under no circumstances allowed to let a small rat man named Jake speak to you.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Jamie’s words, not mine,” Sam clarifies. “Although I must admit, I have seen this rat man. I do not like him very much.”

“You and me both,” you agree. You wave to Isabel and pat Ted on the arm before following Sam.

He leads you away from the crowd of people to a stone path illuminated by small lights. This can’t be right, you think but Sam points down the path and says, “This is where I leave you.”

He turns to leave then changes his mind and spins back around. “It was lovely seeing you today, albeit for a short amount of time. I hope I will be seeing more of you while we are here. It is not often I meet someone who makes Jamie more tolerable.”

He speaks with a touch of humor and it’s just enough to dispel any apprehensions about what’s waiting for you in the dark.

You say, “Thanks Sam. Love ya,” which he returns before he disappears back to the main party.

You take a breath and head down the steps.

It’s dark, the light barely shining enough for each step, but as you get farther you see a shadowy figure sitting on a bench under a tree. You smile. You can tell exactly who it is by his silhouette.

Jamie stands as you get closer and pulls you into his arms.

“Thought we’d sneak away to make out a bit,” he says. “And maybe to you wouldn’t yell at me in front of all our friends.”

You groan. “What did you do? Please tell me it has nothing to do with Roy. Or Jack. Oh my god, did you two start convincing people you were separated at birth again? Because it’s really only funny one time.”

“Well…” Jamie hedges.

You pinch his back. It’s the only part of him you can reach at the moment. “Jamie Tartt, you’d better tell me what you did right now or so help me you are going to be sleeping on the couch for the rest of our lives.”

“Oi, don’t fucking do that!”

He reaches back to grab your hands and holds them flat on his chest. “We- Roy, Grealish, and me, might have gotten your prick ex kicked out.”

“You what?” you gasp.

Jamie starts speaking in a rush before you can say anything else. “Look, y’know how protective Grealish gets, especially because Sasha fucking loves you, and then Roy heard that your prick ex was here (not the twat ex) and he said it’s easier for him to get in and out of fights on account of him being a fucking manager but then Grealish said that it’s pretty much expected that fights happen so might as well and anyway, no one’s gonna fuckin’ snitch on any of us because (hate to break it to you babe), but you’re, like, everyone’s kid sister. They’d fucking kill for you so it’s possible that we channeled that into threatening to break all of his bones if he ever ended up in the same country as you again.”

You’re processing all of the things Jamie said plus the incredible speed at which he said them, so all you can manage is a single “Okay,” before he’s talking again.

“Ehm, it’s also slightly-fucking-possible that someone did break his foot.”

“What?” you all but shout.

“Coordinated effort between Isa and Haaland,” Jamie says. “Lad’s a fucking wall, don’t know if you’ve noticed.”

“Jesus, Jamie,” you groan. “I don’t know if I should kiss you or pinch you again.”

“You can do both,” he suggests.

You sigh. “I’m going to kiss you. Like, a lot. And I’m not going to worry about getting caught and after we’ve snogged like a pair of kids in high school- sorry, secondary school, then we’re going to eat a bunch more food and dance with our friends. And if you want to get sloshed, I promise I will only take funny videos for myself, and I will not send them to your mum this time.”

Jamie says, “Liar,” as he kisses the tip of your nose.

“Fine,” you concede, “I will most definitely send them to your mum. And Simon. We’re on a group chat.”

“Not even gonna fucking ask,” Jamie says as he threads a hand through your hair so he can get at a better angle to kiss you.

—

You wake up the next morning (ahem, afternoon) to Jamie’s foot in your face.

“Excuse me, sir,” you say.

He hiccups himself awake. “Yeah?” he rumbles. “What fucking time..?”

“Late, I assume,” you say.

He groans and flips himself around so your heads are on the same side of the bed. He wastes no time in tangling your limbs together.

“Oi, koala boy. Some of us have morning breath.”

“No y’don’t babe,” he mumbles.

You scratch his head and a shudder runs through his body. “I know,” you say, “my breath is perfect. I meant you. I just didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“Cruel woman,” he returns before lapsing into silence. The sun slips through the curtains, and you’re sure it’s going to be another gorgeous day

“Jamie,” you begin then stop.

He says, “Yeah, love?” while looking up at you with his gorgeous blue eyes and you take a moment to freeze this image in your head.

Jamie Tartt, in bed, hair tousled from sleep. Pillowy white duvet, golden freckled skin, warm body pressed to yours.

He kisses your shoulder, rousing you from your thoughts.

“Jamie,” you say again, “I wanted to say-”

“Don’t,” he interjects. “You’re not fucking allowed to say thank you for the bare fucking minimum.”

“But it’s not,” you reply, opting to skate over the fact that he apparently can read your mind. “Bare minimum is like, making sure I’m not alone with him, not getting your friends together to scare him off and break his foot.”

Jamie’s been kissing your skin wherever he can reach as you speak, so his words are interspersed with pecks. “Technically, the foot was an accident. Ask any one of our witnesses. And besides, they’re your friends too. You’re the one who got ‘em all to like ya despite the fact we’re mortal enemies on the pitch.”

“You’re the one who goes tanning with Jack,” you remind him.

“Lies told by the press,” Jamie grumbles. “This is my natural sexy glow.”

You say, “Okay little British boy,” as Jamie decides that his current position is not enough and he wants to lay on top of you.

He says something but his face is buried in the crook of your neck, so all you can feel is vibrations.

You ask, “Hm?” so he lifts his head.

“What if it were us next year?”

“Tanning or breaking feet?”

“Getting married.”

Jamie goes back to having his mouth on your neck as if the air weren’t just punched from your lungs.

You’re quiet long enough that he lifts his head again to ask, “Is that good quiet or bad quiet?”

“Good!” you hastily confirm. “Good, but, babe- you haven’t even asked me yet.”

He says, “I’m going to,” as if you should have known already.

“Okay,” you breathe, “can you give me like a little heads up or something so my nails are done?”

“Uh-huh,” he says, “At the end of the week. Been planning it. Ring’s in my bag, even asked Stella if she’d be pissed that it’s the same week she took on the most un-sexy last name in history. She said she don’t give a shit as long as it’s not at her actual wedding. So.”

“I love you,” you tell him. “Not just because of yesterday or right now. I just think you’re great.”

“I am great, babe,” he says like it’s obvious. “Picked you, didn’t I?”

You crack a smile. “Alright, that’s enough out of you. Do you want to get out of bed or go back to sleep?”

“Sleep,” he replies immediately.

“Thank God,” you groan, “I didn’t want to move. You’re like a weighted blanket.”

“It’s me sexy muscles,” Jamie says. You wiggle under him to get more comfortable.

“Uh huh,” you agree, but the words are hardly out of your mouth before you’re both back to sleep.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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